by Jason Wood
Augustus was sitting on the balcony of his house. His chair was rocking back and forth. The tall trees around his house were visible to him. He drew a breath as an old memory of a small girl got refreshed in his mind as it so often had, but he jerked it away. Focus on the present, Gus. He told himself.
He was so drowned in these musings of his when the phone rang. He attended it and the voice from the other side informed him about something. He got satisfied with what was being conveyed to him and hung up.
He walked the whole diameter of his balcony, continuously smiling at something. I will catch you, dear, he said aloud. He paced up and down, waiting for something impatiently. Then finally the phone rang again, he attended it and the caller just said a single word and hung the phone.
He smiled with satisfaction.
Italy, he finally said it, enjoying the word thoroughly in his mouth and laughed at a joke only known to himself.
Chapter 8
One last attempt!
She was not sure why she could not forget those blue eyes. The scene was repeated many times in her memory. How she was hanging from the window, fighting for dear life and the jerk of her shawls and his handsome features filled with shock and interest. Her eyes must have had the same expression too.
He was a man in mid-forties and about 6 feet tall with a masculine body. His ginger hair was disheveled and slightly curly. His face was broad from the head, gradually tapering towards the chin, like an inverted triangle. His mouth was half-open with shock and his thin lips were making an O. his nose had the scars of glasses although he was not wearing one now. All his features were attractive, but she just could not forget the eyes, they were so expressive and mysterious at the same time as if they were conveying something and hiding it simultaneously.
A sudden desire gripped her. It was totally insane, of course. Although she was officially retired, but she thought that she is still capable of freeing this world from the shackles of injustice, slavery, hypocrisy and brutality. What if I commit one more murder then he might come after me again she thought desperately. Her thoughts were running on the dangerous track and she realized it soon as the memory of mother returned to her.
Life is not a game and least of a game of gamble. Following your heart is important but the brain is not a useless organ either, her mother used to tell her.
But it is so easy to listen to the heart. It never misguides anyone, I am sure. It is so easy to let go. She would always reply back not understanding why her mom was so cautious. She was a young girl then and did not have the experience of her mother.
The things which are easy to do never leads to the truth, dear. Her mother would say.
Years later when she had agreed to the old man’s proposition, her mother returned to her. She was scared and used to cry a lot. The old man had found her in the streets where she had taken up begging so she could remain safe from Mr. Theodore and it was easy for her to look for daughter as a beggar.
She had consoled her mother for a month and gradually, she started to recover and heal from the past wounds. When her mother regained the ability to talk and understand, she informed her about her decision to join the old man’s army to kill the people who practice evil acts in the society and take the revenge of her father’s murder. Her mother immediately lost her temper and a fresh lecture of are you out of your mind, you will be killed, it is too dangerous, you are very young and this is immoral started which ended on emotional blackmailing but she had already made a pact with the old man and there was no backing away now.
Well, I have done my duty now and I should not exceed it further. I will get back to the mother but before that I must find the old man.
After everything was clear between them the old man had disappeared. He stopped visiting her and all the messages were conveyed either through letters or cell phones. Her training began and different people trained her for different kind of crisis and situations, but the old man never came in front of her anymore. She tried to reach him but failed to do so. He had clearly ordered his crew to not bother him with the petty issues anymore and that he is working on something bigger.
I must find him now. He has answers to so many of my queries as well as to his own mysteries. I want to know who he is and I have a right to know so too! She thought. One last quest before the return!
She immediately started using her connections to check on his location. Even after several tries and days of hard work she failed to trace his location. She decided to look for him at every place she could think of. Then she suddenly remembered that he had once said something about the loveliness of Venice. She decided to check Italy first.
She reminded herself to forget about the blue eyes for the thousandth time!
Chapter 9
The mausoleum of Augustus
15/10/2015
Dear diary,
I am here now, in Rome. I love this city and while every visitor could not stop talk about Venice and its natural and architectural beauty, I am happy with my Colosseum. It was the first city that I had ever visited and you can never forget your first love. I traveled so many cities after that, but this city had always been special for me.
I have decided to spend the rest of the year here. I have never remained at a single place for so long before as I get bored, but Rome has never tired me. I have decided to take a 2-month course about Arts and Architecture of Rome. I always wanted to know more about it.
My plan is to leave Italy at New Year eve for back home.
There is something interesting I want to share with you. Do you remember my crush from school, I had told you about? Well. Guess what? He is here; handsome as always. I saw him at the college where I had enrolled for the course. I wish he will be in my class. This sounds so childish and stupid, but I don’t know what has gotten into me.
Hope to meet him soon!
Love,
Samantha
Xoxo
I closed my journal and went to have a glass of juice in the kitchen. The phone rang after a while. It was an old friend of mine who has somehow received the news that I had come to visit her city. She wanted to meet up. We decided to go to the spot where we had first met; the mausoleum of Augustus. We were to reach there in about an hour.
I hung up the phone and raced to my room for getting ready. I was staying at a friend’s house as she had gone on a foreign visit and didn’t live there anymore. I went to my wardrobe but could not decide what to wear, then I saw this black dress that was gifted to me by a very dear friend. It was a long dress that covered my feet as well, the upper part had black and white stripes and the lower portion was plain black. It embraced my body, revealing my curves. I decided to wear it with my white coat and my black and white shoes. I left my hair open and applied mascara on my lashes and a little lipstick. I glanced at the mirror, the image was rather pleasing, someone wanting to enjoy a relaxed afternoon. I put my black hat on and wore my white shades and hurried to meet my friend.
Hey, Sam! You look beautiful as always. Elettra said as a form of greeting to her.
And you! Lettie, she replied back.
They hugged and pecked each other on the cheeks. Lettie wouldn’t let go of her and kept chatting non-stop. She had married since they had last met, twice! She had two beautiful daughters now. She looked so happy and kept smiling. She was a lean and tall woman in her early twenties with beautiful almond shaped eyes.
They both looked at their favorite spot. Augustus was a Roman Emperor in 28 BC. This tomb was the first building he had worked on as his rule started. From his mother’s side, he was related to the great Julius Ceaser. Not many tourists came to this place, but Samantha loved it a lot. It was not like the great buildings that everyone is attracted to, but it was an ancient ruin.
All the human praise for the huge mountains, lush greenery, vibrant flowers and the heavenly skies is, but artifice. The sincere approval comes only in honoring the ruins because they hold a mirror for us. Like human race, ruins are also ancient a
nd ruined but are still beautiful in an unconventional manner
How are you, Sam? What have you been up to and what are your plans for future? Did you marry someone? Have you even met someone? And suddenly her excitement grew and she said have you fell pregnant?
I could not stop laughing at her. No is the answers for all of your queries, Lettie. But she kept on pestering her with questions of such nature. You must have met someone, she asked desperately. Just to relax her I told her about my latest crush from the Art class. I was in the midst of explaining her about those mysterious blue eyes when suddenly I saw those same eyes looking at me with interest.
The man from the art class was standing right in front of me. I felt so embarrassed and pinched Lettie. He grinned at me and when I tried to run away from the spot, he came forward and said hello.
I ignored him and went away dragging a very confused Lettie with me. Why are we moving away? She said I have not seen the mausoleum in ages I want to hang in here, but I didn’t bother to listen to her stupidity
Augustus saw her going away and looked at the mausoleum of his namesake. She is the one I was looking for, I am pretty sure now! He thought and went away whistling his favorite tune.
Chapter 10
A number of coincidences
I went to the class, two days from the incident at the mausoleum. Although I knew that he would not be in my class yet I still feared that if he had enrolled in too, how embarrassing it would be. Yet, my heart wanted him to come and sit right beside me. The battle of heart and logic never ends.
The class started and nobody had come in to sit with me. I drew a sigh of relief when a voice startled me. Hello! He was sitting right beside me and was grinning from ear to ear. You were looking pretty yesterday, but I notice that unlike that day when you were wearing the dress of Mrs. Judy’s eye, you have switched it with the color of my eyes. I glanced at my blue dress and my cheeks started blushing.
You are looking pretty today as well
I ignored his remark.
The lights were turned off in the room as a documentary was to be played. The light from the projector touched the screen and the topic of the documentary flashed on it, “the mausoleum of Augustus” I felt like dying with embarrassment. He laughed beside me and everybody gave us an odd gaze. He sobered a little.
The whole documentary turned into a form of torture for me and I sighed with relief as it ended.
I tried to leave the class as soon as possible, but he caught up with me. can I walk you to your destination? He asked me
No
Why?
Because, because, because it makes me feel odd.
Actually I want to talk to you. It was nothing that happened yesterday and please you don’t have to feel so embarrassed. It makes me feel bad about myself actually.
I know, I admitted. I am sorry
Please don’t be sorry. We can be friends, you know. I would really like that!
Ok. We can give it a try, I guess. I replied as suddenly hosts of butterflies started fluttering inside my stomach.
So where are you from? He asked.
I am from somewhere in England, it is not important.
Ok, what are you doing here?
Oh! I am a traveler. I have lived my life as a nomad. I loved this way of life but not anymore.
Why? What has happened now?
Nothing! I miss my mother, a simple reason for a girl. I smiled. What are you doing here? You don’t look like you belong here.
I had a passion for law and justice but after pursuing it for a long time I have realized that art is my true calling. I am trying to study the architecture all around the world. This is my first practical venture.
It is indeed the right place. I love the buildings here in Rome. The architecture is so versatile and I particularly adore the colosseum.
By the way, my name is Augustus if you don’t know that already.
I knew it. What other interests do you have, Augustus? I asked him
I love to read, mostly novels and plays.
Really? Who are your favorite writers? I am a reader as well.
There are a lot of them actually. I love the classic prose, the likes of Jane Austen, Thomas Hardy, Agatha Christie and of course he Bronte sisters. If I must name a book as my favorite then it would be wuthering heights.
Don’t tell me! I love it too and I adore Oscar Wilde
Really? You know I have tickets for a play of his, the importance of being earnest. The theater has tried to improvise it or something so I was not sure that I should go. I believe some things are too beautiful and there is no need for them to be beautified anymore. He said the last sentence boring his blue eyes into me and I could not help but feel myself soaring in the sky and my face blushed unconsciously.
But, he resumed his normal tone, if you would care to join me, even the modified version will be worth watching.
I nodded.
Chapter 11
The general journal
The next day they were to go and watch the play at the theater. I borrowed a dress of my friend that I had admired for a long time. It was a knee length pink dress decorated with black silk belt. I matched black shoes with it and made my hair into a bun. I wore the large earrings in which a black stone was fixed. I accentuated my eyes with black mascara and eyeliner and added a little blush to my cheeks. I applied a light shade of pink lipstick. As the doorbell rang I was ready and my heart starting beating very fast. I went to the door and there he was looking even more handsome than usual. He was wearing an off-white suit and a light pink shirt. There was no tie and the upper buttons of his shirt were open. Not very English, I thought and not very conventional either I admitted admiringly. I put my diary in my purse as I leave the house to accompany him on the porch.
I found him looking at me with a mixture of appreciation and approval, but he looked very thoughtful as if immersed in some deep calculations. I want to know what he is he thinking about but did not ask for the fear of sounding too meddlesome.
He told me anyway, he was thinking about me and he thought that I was very mysterious and it was not easy to guess who and what I was. I felt rather startled at this discovery because nobody has tried to analyze me so deeply before.
The play was great. In the interval, I opened my diary to write in it and he asked me about it and I told him that it was my journal. He did not ask me to show it to him. He must be thinking what I had thought before of being too nosy so I showed bits of it to him myself. I left him at it as I needed to go to the ladies room. I returned and the play was complete.
He asked me to have dinner and we went to a restaurant that he had discovered and about which I knew nothing. The food was delicious, but it was not a normal 5-star hotel but a small house in which the women cooked food and served the customers. They also lived there. I enjoyed myself a lot but above all of it was his company. It was like he knew me so well. I asked him about school days and he said that he could not remember me which made me upset for a little but then it was alright.
I told him about my wanderlust and what places I have been to and what cultures I have seen. He seemed to be extremely interested in all my experiences. I asked him about what he had done all his life. I told him that I would like to see him more and he said that he will talk about himself some other day.
I think I like him. I mean really, really like him. I think he is what I have always wanted in a man, looks, knowledge, great taste in literature, love for arts and a streak for unconventionality.
Am I falling in love? He makes me wonder. Is that not the sign of love?
Suddenly I remembered those blue eyes, telling me that one sign of falling in love is that the person makes you wonder. He had made me wonder too.
I opened my purse to retrieve the diary, but it was not there. I looked for it everywhere, but it was nowhere to be found.
*-----------*--------------*------------------*-------------*
Augustus could not understand anything now.
He had hid the diary at the theatre, thinking that he would find some clue to her identity so he could prove her to be the killer but there was nothing in this diary that could suggest that Samantha Hurlock was a killer. It was a story of an innocent girl, trying to find inner peace in her love of traveling, her emotions and insecurities.
Besides, he had actually started liking her. She admired her innocent openness, her sincere admiration for him and failed attempts to flirt with him. She is so pure and beautiful. He loved her notions and admired her deep thoughts. She had experienced life very closely and her desire to be a part of nature was praiseworthy. Moreover, she made him wonder. Was not that a sign of love?
Am I mixing work and emotions?
She used to make him wonder too. He remembered. For the first time, he let her memory come to him and soothe him. She was a young girl, too young for him, but he realized his obsession with her and had to leave her apparently but in reality he had never left her and neither would he ever do. No matter how much far away she had tried to wander he had caught her always; a glimpse of her is enough for him to live.
He was busy with these thoughts when somebody knocked at his door at the hotel. Could it be her? He thought. She did not know his address and they had already decided to meet this night. I will return her diary and will apologize for my being nosy and then I will confess to her about my feelings for her and for her as well.
He went to open the door but instead of her it was an officer from back home, Mr. Nightshade. Nobody knew his real name, but he was called nightshade because he was great at catching the culprits at night and his victims always died of poison.
