Begin Where We Are

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Begin Where We Are Page 5

by Knightley, Diana


  “Oh, how’s he missing? Military?”

  “No, um… he went missing in Scotland,” I said like that explained it.

  “Well, I was just offering to buy you a drink." He joked, “Is he a big guy?”

  Michael said, “Huge. He could kick your ass in a second.”

  Hayley smacked Michael’s arm. “But he won’t because he’s nice. Michael, get Katie a Margarita too. And pay attention better. Be better at this.”

  “Better at what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just go get us the drinks.”

  She turned to me once they left. “Sorry about that, sweetie. I’m going to turn my back on him after this and you won’t have to say anything but to me.”

  “You were talking about Magnus in the present tense…”

  “Yeah, I guess I was. Not sure how to talk about him. He’s always been coming home before.”

  “Yeah, he’s always coming home. And also not coming home anymore.” I swallowed against the rise of tears and my trembling chin. “How did I let you talk me into this?”

  She gave me a sad smile. “Talk you into going out? I talked you into it precisely because you needed to be talked into it. It’s not good for you to spend all that time alone in the apartment.”

  “I see people.”

  “You see Zach, Emma, Ben and Quentin. And you only see them because they make you see them. You only see me because I make you see me. You know it's true. And you know you should try to see people.”

  A drink was placed in front of me and I took a swig and picked up the dinner menu. I joked, “Oh Hayley, you are so needy. Why do I have to do everything for you?”

  Magnus

  Meals were passed through a slot in the door. The voices near my ear guided me.

  My door opened the second day and I was told tae go down the elevator tae a ground floor training’ hall. My trainer was a light-cast, extra-large on the wall. His giant head told me what tae lift and when tae run and how fast.

  My arms were still sore from the cuts, but I was healin’.

  I was in a routine, nae thinkin’, just doin’.

  I trained and ate and tried tae sleep though twas broken by dreams. Night after night — Kaitlyn on the beach and she canna see me. Kaitlyn on the horse and she canna hear me. And a new one, Kaitlyn above me, on me, sitting astride, weighing me down, yet when I try tae hold her tae keep her there, she was light and shadow and nothingness. I tried tae hold her down, but she was only wind.

  I could feel her on me — heavy yet also gone.

  Twas the way it all was now.

  Heavy and gone.

  I watched the light-cast of her that night. I lay on the bed with it glowing on the wall watching her smile up at someone else. Over and over and over.

  The next day was more of the same.

  I knew the routine was goin’ tae kill me. Twould be the death of me tae nae do anythin’ but be alone. But I was too dark in my soul tae think of a way out of it.

  Short of killin’ Donnan.

  But I had tae make sure I could get away after the deed was done.

  I needed a vessel.

  I asked the voice beside my ear. “Where does Donnan keep the vessels?”

  A woman’s voice said, “I’m not sure what you mean?”

  “The vessels, the Tempus Omegas, for traveling through time?”

  I waited, but the voice went quiet.

  “Can ye tell me where they are kept?”

  “No.”

  Kaitlyn

  I pushed the door open to her small apartment. “Grandma?”

  “Who is that?”

  “It’s me, Kaitlyn Camp — I mean Sheffield, Katie Sheffield. Your granddaughter.” I dropped my keys in my purse and hung my bag over the rack near the front door. “I’m Paige and John’s daughter, you know, your son, John Sheffield?”

  I glanced around the room. It was dark, but usually was on Thursday mornings. I tried to get here before the staff so I could take her to breakfast.

  She was still in bed as usual. I turned on lights and opened the blinds letting the bright Florida late March sun stream in. “Good morning!” I said as cheerily as possible though cheery had been kind of a long distant memory. I pulled her bedcovers off while she still looked up at me confused.

  “Katie?”

  “Yep, Katie. I’m here for our breakfast date in the dining room. Twice a week whether you want it or not. Today’s Thursday so here I am.” I gave her my arm and helped hoist her from the bed.

  “Where’s Jack?”

  I sighed. “Jack is in heaven now, you’ll see him someday.”

  I walked her to the bathroom and helped her use the toilet. She was distracted for a moment with all the activity. But then she said, “Jack would be worried about him. He really liked him.” I helped her get back on her feet and led her to the bathroom sink and squirted toothpaste on her brush. “Who Grandma?” I watched her brush her teeth and pulled a hairbrush from a drawer and ran it through her thin white hair.

  “Magnus, dear. He’s been gone for a long time.” She squinted her eyes as if she was considering new information. Then shook her head of it.

  I smiled, because if you want to feel better the first rule is: smile.

  I smiled like a maniac as I led my grandma to the dining room like I was the cheeriest fucker in the world.

  Hey guys, it’s me, Katie Sheffield. Except I’m married now. And my husband is missing. You may have heard — the whole island is talking about it. He’s rich and missing and now I live in an apartment and people whisper about me and I have to ignore it. My friends have to treat me like I’m a special case. They whisper about me too. Things like, what day is your day to check on her? And, did you check on her yesterday?

  Kind of like me checking on my grandmother every other day.

  Because you never knew what each new day would bring — what kind of mortal blow.

  Everyone knew us in the dining room. Grandma chatted with a few other residents and I bantered with our regular waiter.

  Then Grandma said, “You look like hell.”

  “Thanks Grandma.” I chuckled. “And who am I?”

  “You’re apparently John’s daughter, Katie, though she used to be a happy kid.” She stirred cream into her coffee.

  “Yeah, the world has kind of beaten down little ol’ Katie and turned her into the haggard depressed woman you see before you. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Why not?”

  “I have terrible dreams. About Magnus.”

  She said, “Magnus was like family to Jack and me.”

  “He is family, I married him.”

  “That’s right. I remember now. And he’s gone. That’s why he doesn’t come to see me anymore.” She stared off into space.

  I sighed. She was especially weird today, spacey yet thoughtful. Like her brain was remembering things but the strain of it was overloading her synapses. She was also frail almost like she was withering away. “I’ve been having this recurring dream, I’m somewhere, like the beach—”

  “Looking for shark teeth, you do love doing that.”

  “Exactly!” I beamed at her. She remembered something about me. “It’s true, I love it. In my dream I’m looking down, but I can hear him — Magnus. He’s yelling my name and I know he’s nearby but I can’t look. My head won’t turn. It’s like I’m purposefully ignoring him but I get frantic because I’m stuck, and—”

  Grandma was looking right at me now listening and focused. “Are there more, dear?”

  “Yes, in another one I’m looking up at this tree I saw once in Scotland. Magnus and I were arguing, but for some reason I noticed it. It was beautiful, two trunks entwined, and I’m looking up at the tree and I can hear Magnus calling me again. But I won’t look away from the tree.” The waitress poured more coffee in my cup and told us the food would be out in just a minute.

  I finished, “There are more, but that’s the crux, I hear him but I can’t notice him. I gu
ess it’s just that he’s missing… It’s making my mind believe I can hear him.”

  “Oh it’s much deeper than that, dear.” Our plates were delivered interrupting her thought. We were offered ketchup, Grandma needed salt. She asked for more coffee. By the time the food was fully served I was pretty sure she wouldn’t remember the conversation. But I was curious. I missed her helpful wisdoms so much.

  “What were you going to say? You said, ‘It’s much deeper than that,’ about my dreams — I’m sorry to press but ever since I lost the baby and then Magnus, I just need some advice.”

  She furrowed her brow for a moment then said out of nowhere, “Quantum entanglements, Jack is fascinated by them.”

  “I know the word, not sure I get…”

  “Some particles become so close they can’t be independent. Even when they’re separated by a large distance.”

  I continued to chew a piece of bacon trying to grasp where her Alzheimer’s-riddled mind was going with this.

  But she seemed pleased with herself like that explained what she meant.

  I asked, “What?”

  “Dear, you were going to have his baby — did you know when you make a baby together, bits of the baby’s genetic material become a part of your body? And the baby was made up of both of you so you are carrying bits of your baby and your husband inside — wrapped, tied, knotted — it’s science.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and if you’re truly entangled, you would be tied even though you’re separated by time and space. Hence the dreams.”

  “So you think Magnus is communicating through my dreams? It's not just my mind but it’s really him I’m hearing?”

  “No, that would be crazy. Maybe it’s not crazy at all. Maybe what your dreams are telling you is don’t give up hope, but to listen. To open yourself to the possibility you might be entangled with him still even though he’s gone.”

  I looked down at my plate trying to think about all of that.

  “Most of the time when I bring up Jack, you remind me that Jack isn’t here anymore. And I know Jack isn’t here. I know it here,” she tapped on her temple, “most days. But here,” she patted her heart, “he’s still with me. I swear I can hear him sometimes. His shifts and movements, like he’s just behind me. That’s because I’ve got his genetic material tied to mine. It’s overriding my common sense. He’s present and he’s everywhere, because he’s in my particles.”

  “So I’m alive and it keeps Magnus alive?”

  “Exactly.”

  I shoved my chair back, circled the table, threw my arms around my grandma, and held on.

  Magnus

  A few weeks later I was in bed when the guards barged intae my room and wrestled me tae standin’. I was told, “Dress, you’ll be fighting this morning.”

  I yanked my arms from their grasp, got dressed, and fell intae line within their ranks down the long passage to the ground floor.

  I was left in the stagin’ room again staring at the door. My mind was full of fury. I dinna ken who was on the other side of the door, but I wanted tae kill him. Fast.

  I had also done some thinkin’ on the matter. My life was worth next tae nothin, but if the crowds liked me, I might gain a bit of power. Enough tae bargain with.

  I asked, “Who am I fightin’?”

  The voice in my ear said, “A brother, three, two, one, and go.” The doors flung open on the projected crowds, their deafening cheers, a cloud-covered grey sky, and my opponent.

  The man at the other end of the floor was big. Dark. He looked verra much like he wanted tae kill me. Twas nae a bit of charm in him, like facin’ a bull, he pawed at the ground. I backed tae the wall for the large axe leanin’ there. Not my favorite weapon — too top heavy, not weighted well, and for fightin’ there wasna much forgiveness in it.

  I grasped it while keeping my eyes on the man at the opposite end of the floor. “Hullo!” I called, “Are you my brother then?”

  The man tossed his axe from hand tae hand and glared.

  I tossed my axe and almost dropped it. I was watchin’ my adversary and had forgotten tae consider the heft of it. The audience laughed.

  “My apologies, Brother, I almost dropped m’axe. Would have made for a short fight I suspect.” I had tae project my voice because he was such a great distance away.

  “What’s your name, Brother?” I spun the axe handle getting a feel for it in my palm, findin’ the perfect balance.

  The man across the arena grunted.

  “I am Magnus Archibald—” The crowd chanted my name in unison and finished without my needin’ tae. “…Archibald Caehlin Campbell!”

  I chuckled, “I am the son of Donnan and next in line for the throne.”

  The man yelled and charged toward me with frightening speed. A few steps away he raised the axe over his shoulder and brought it down in a wide swing. I ducked and shuffled a few steps away. He narrowly missed, but I had risked it tae see his swing.

  I tossed the axe tae my left hand and while he recovered from his swing, I swung. My axe arced up and caught his chest. Then I tossed the axe to my right hand and swung around hitting his left arm. My axe clipped his forearm causing a burst of blood.

  My brother stepped back holding his cut and breathin’ heavy. Hatred burned in his eyes.

  “I want tae make ye an offer, Brother. The same offer I gave my uncle, Tanrick, just before I killed him a few weeks ago. If ye will lay down your weapon, we can come tae a place of peace.” I was walkin’ around him in a circle, lookin’ for his weakness — his swing was comin’ from the right after a short step for balance. I had injured him, but his swing would remain strong. It was at the downward turn where I would have him.

  He shook his body getting the strength back tae his limbs.

  “I have nae quarrel with you, Brother. I have been imprisoned the same as ye. Donnan is the one we should quarrel with.”

  He charged me and brought the axe down hard. At the bottom he took the extra step, momentarily off balance. He wasna as surefooted as before. I swung, hooked the end of my axe against his, yanked it from his grip, and flung it away across the floor. He recovered his feet and lunged at my chest too fast for me tae swing before the full weight of him was on me.

  I was forced tae the ground. My axe flew from my hands. The audience gasped and grew silent.

  He was on top of me raining down blows. I blocked, left, right, twistin’ tae keep them from hittin’ their mark. Then I used a move I had been taught in my trainin’ in Florida. I wrapped my leg around his, grabbed him in a back hold, pulled him close tae my chest, and exploded up and over so I was on top of him.

  Before he knew what was happening I was beatin’ his face. Verra soon he was weak, bleedin’, and barely fightin’ back. I shoved off him and stood over him. “You had enough, Brother? Are ye ready tae submit tae me?”

  He growled low and fierce and lumbered tae his feet. He charged me but instead veered and dove for his axe. I picked mine up. He was winded and slow. We eyed each other. I was regrettin’ that I dinna finish him.

  I wouldna make the mistake again.

  He charged me, his axe raised, ready tae swing it down. I stepped back allowing it tae swing past me. Then when he was at the bottom of the arc, I leapt forward and swung across his middle, cutting a clean slice near through.

  His axe fell and he slumped to the ground at my feet.

  I stared down at him while the chantin’ started. “Magnus, Magnus, Magnus!”

  The voice in my ear said, “Your name is Magnus Archibald Caehlin Campbell…”

  “My name is Magnus Archibald Caehlin Campbell.”

  “And you are heir to the throne of Donnan.”

  “I am heir tae the throne of Donnan.”

  “Louder.”

  “I am heir tae the throne of Donnan!”

  The chantin’ of my name was so loud I had tae clamp the heel of my hands over my ears.

  But then the images of the crowd faded. The sou
nd faded away until there was nothing but the grey sky above and yet another dead man at my feet.

  The doors swung open at the end of the arena so I left.

  I wasna invited tae see Donnan this time, and I dinna need the infirmary, so I was led by guards tae my room and left inside the door.

  * * *

  Kaitlyn was driving the Mustang. The roof was down. She was speeding. The music was loud and she was singin’ and I was right there beside her — close enough tae hold her hand. But I was unable tae move, stuck, watchin’ her sing and drive. I tried tae move tae touch her, tae see if she was real but I couldna move tae get close tae her…

  Kaitlyn

  Quentin texted: Hayley is on the way up.

  There was a knock on my door.

  “Go away, I don’t want to see anyone.”

  Hayley’s voice carried through the door. “We already established that I’m an asshole who doesn’t care what you want. You have to see me anyway, it’s in the ‘New Rules.’”

  I was on my couch, shades drawn, ac full blast, watching Grey’s Anatomy and eating from a box of chocolate chip cookies. I glanced up at the piece of paper Hayley had stuck with a magnet to my fridge. It was headlined, ‘New Rules.’ Number one was ‘No one cares what you want, you have to see us anyway.’

  Number two was, ‘You have to see someone every day. Or we break a window.’

  Number three was, ‘Go see your grandmother at least every other day.’

  Number four was, ‘Zach gets to cook for you every day or he’ll stop cashing his paychecks and Ben will starve.’

  And so on for at least fifteen rules.

  I called, “But today is an anniversary so the rules don’t apply.”

  “No,” came Hayley’s voice, “that’s not true. The rules on anniversary days are not voided they are doubled. You have to see me, let me in.”

  I said, “Fine,” in the most irritated voice I could muster and went and yanked the lock. Then I slammed the door open, up against the wall, huffed at her, and returned to the couch. “What do you want?” I stared at the Grey’s Anatomy episode again.

 

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