by G. K. Lund
Outside Olivia pushed through the crowd to find her car. She didn’t work at the Fortress and didn’t see the need to be standing around. She fished her keys out of her pocket, and stopped, three feet from her car. She might not need to stand around there, but the employees did. She turned around and saw the crowd of people filling the curb and nearest parking spaces. Olivia allowed herself a little smile. Ms. Bishop might not want her inside, but with her whole staff outside, most of them on public property even, well, she couldn’t keep Olivia away from that.
She made a round, asking questions and showing photos. People were impatient and bored and therefore willing to take a look simply to get the time to pass. At least it was sunny, and no one was cold. The smell of sweat and perfumes made itself known though as she moved through the crowd. It turned out to be worth it as she struck gold when she found the receptionist who had escorted her upstairs earlier. At the same time, the alarm was turned off. The buzz of the crowd immediately washed over her.
“Yeah, that’s Alwin,” the receptionist whose name was Marcus said.
“You guys know each other?”
Marcus gave a shrug and turned to one of his colleagues, a blond woman in her mid-twenties. “We all do, don’t we?” She nodded. “I mean we all work on the same floor, in the same room really.”
“Do you know if he was working here a week ago?” She could ask Cooper of course, but he’d lawyered up, and she needed witnesses if she could find them. It was always better when these things were corroborated.
Marcus thought about it for a few seconds. “Well, I don’t remember what I had for dinner a week ago, but…”
“Alwin’s been working the late shift for days now,” the woman chimed in. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had.”
“What’s your name?”
“Georgette Wilde.”
“Okay, Georgette—”
“Just George, please.”
“Okay… George. The late shift… how late?”
“They’re always here after we leave.”
“Yeah,” Marcus agreed. “I think there’s a new shift around two a.m. or something.”
Olivia smiled. They had been far more helpful than their boss. “I’ll let you get to it,” she said and was about to close her folder as she noticed Reed’s photo. She pulled it out just in case. “Ever seen him?”
Marcus shook his head, but George did nothing. Her whole demeanor said she’d seen the man before. “George?” Olivia prompted.
“Well… he’s a friend of a friend.”
“Who’s your friend?”
George looked at Olivia with obvious uncertainty. She even bit her lower lip as she looked at her colleague for help.
“He won’t be in any trouble, George.”
“My friend’s name is Peter… Klein.” Olivia nodded. No need to write this down. “And they were here a couple of days ago.”
“Here? At the Fortress?”
“Mm-hmm… looking for something. Someone, I guess.”
Olivia smiled wider now, though she made sure not to scare George. “Please tell me about it.”
Chapter 23
The eyes opened and closed a few times before I realized I was waking up. When had I fallen asleep? I remembered sitting down on the couch for a few moments to wait out the shaking, and now I was slumped over, halfway sitting, halfway lying. Noises nearby broke into this confused state, and at least got me curious enough to sit up properly, shaking off the worst of the drowsiness. Why did the body keep doing this? I had not wanted to sleep. And why was I still shaking? I felt weak, a little hungry, even a little wired despite being drowsy.
“Hey,” I heard Rose’s voice from the kitchen before her head popped out past the partition-wall that separated it from the living room. “I let you sleep. Figured you were tired.” She must have come in while I was sleeping, which meant I had to have been in a deep sleep. I rubbed the hands through the hair and got up, feeling immediately dizzy. I was a little hungry. Was that the problem? I headed into the kitchen to find Rose busy at work making something that smelled wonderful.
“What’s that?” I nodded toward the oven which I had no idea how worked.
“Lasagna,” she said moving containers, ladles and a frying pan over to the sink.
“Smells good,” I said as I found a coffee cup in the cupboard. I was already eying the coffeemaker, walking toward it when a dizzy spell hit me again. The cup slid out of the hand as I gripped the counter. I only heard the crash on the floor as the eyes squinted shut. When I opened them, the floor was full of small shards.
“Are you alright?” Rose spun around toward me. “Don’t move,” she added as she left the kitchen and came back quick with a vacuum cleaner. I saw her point as I stood there in socks, while she was wearing shoes. She picked up the biggest pieces and removed the rest with the vacuum. As she turned the noisy vacuum cleaner off, I realized I was still clinging to the counter.
“You look awful,” she said as she came closer. “Here, have a seat.” She led me toward the nearest counter-stool by the narrow and high kitchen table. “What the hell is going on, Ben?”
I slowly placed the elbows on the table for support, not entirely sure I wouldn’t fall off if I didn’t. I noticed she’d taken one of the other counter-stools, across from me. “I don’t know,” I said. It was the truth after all.
“Have you seen yourself?”
“I don’t think that’s very nice.”
Rose puffed up her cheeks with air before blowing it out. “You look like you’ve been on a three-day bender. Have you?”
“How can I when you’re all babysitting me all the time?” I was in no mood to be polite if she wasn’t going to extend me the same courtesy. It sure didn’t help. I was as pale as a dead body, drawn and a little gaunt. I needed a shave too I realized as I listened to her while scratching the stubble. I was so tired of this meaty container that was in constant need of upkeep and care.
“Okay then,” Rose finally said after listing all the faults in me that she could see. Such a nice way to spend the day. “If you’re not drunk or high or hungover or sick, then what?”
“I don’t know. I keep shaking. It’s annoying.”
“What?”
“Shaking,” I repeated showing her the right hand which demonstrated what I meant.
Rose straightened up and considered this. “Well, we know you’re not sick, you were just in the hospital.”
A ping on Old Ben’s phone made me check it despite the look I was given for this. It was from Peter. He was on his way, and about time. I had been waiting for days now.
“Ben.”
I put the phone and looked at her.
“Are you eating?”
I shrugged. “All the time.”
“What exactly?”
I actually had to think about this for a moment. “Coffee,” I concluded.
“And?”
“A blueberry muffin with coffee?”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon?”
“Water?”
I shook the head. “Not thirsty.”
“Anything other than pastry you find in a coffee shop?”
“An apple the other day.”
“Oh God,” Rose moaned and bent to rest her forehead on the table. “I see the problem, though how your memory loss works seriously confounds me.”
“How so?”
“You used to be healthy you know… well, maybe except for the coffee, but it wasn’t like this.”
Of course it hadn’t been like this. I was not him. And I didn’t understand what she was on about, though she was more than willing to explain. Apparently, it was odd how I could function in everyday life in some aspects though not in others. She was right. I had to admit that to myself. In some respects, I was like a child. Machinery of most kinds confused me. I did have the ability to learn though, and it seemed to work best when I observed what other people did. I also understood the need for sustenance. Food w
as even one of the few things I enjoyed about being in this frail body, but as I listened to Rose lecture me on the various needs for nutrition it began to dawn on me that knowing you need to eat, was not the same as knowing what you needed to eat.
“You’re shaking because of the caffeine.”
“I am?”
“You’re on a caffeine bender, Ben. How are you even sleeping in the middle of the day?”
“I honestly do not know,” I answered with emphasis. This was a puzzle that had me confused as well.
“Must be the lack of proper food.” She slapped her hands flat on the table and stood up. “We can fix this.”
“How?”
“We start with the lasagna. I’ll teach you a few things.” She sighed and looked at me like the brain connected to me was damaged. “But you need to cut back on the coffee.”
“No, but I—”
“And you should start up with running again.”
“I should?”
Her curt nod told me there was no discussing this. See? I understood quite a few things despite being new at everything. I did, however, stare at the coffeemaker with longing several times as Rose went through the basics of nutrition. When I finally heard Peter hailing us from the living room, I was relieved.
“Hey, Rose,” he added when he came into the kitchen. He put the satchel next to the table and stared longingly at the lasagna as he sat down. The food was almost ready by now, the smell dominating the kitchen. At this point, I had all but forgotten about coffee. Apparently, the body wanted solid food.
“Did you find anything?” I asked him before he could say another word.
“Sure did.”
“About that guy you’ve been looking for?” Rose sat down again, plates and cutlery forgotten.
“What was it?”
“Well, I got my friend Randall to help me, and—”
“Wait, you went about this legally, right?”
Peter looked at his sister and didn’t answer. His smile made me wonder if it was only to tease though.
“What did you find out?” I pressed.
“So, the guy’s name is Param Young. He’s thirty-seven. His mother is from India and his father is American. Apparently, he’s some sort of army brat. Lots of traveling. Some education. No job.” Peter smiled wide, absolutely pleased with himself. “See how much easier it is when you know who you’re looking for?”
“But why are you looking for him?” Rose’s eyes glanced between us. “And wasn’t it some other name you remembered?”
I noticed Peter looking apologetically at me. He’d been telling his sister everything. Of course he had. They were talking about me, weren’t they? Worried and concerned. I gave a mental sigh.
“The other name is connected to this guy it seems,” Peter continued, a slight look of disbelief on his face.
Rose left the table to take the lasagna out of the oven. The smell wafted up around us in full force now. The stomach actually growled. Not an unpleasant feeling, but odd certainly. “I don’t understand this,” she commented as she gave a slight wave at the plates on the table. I began putting them out for us. I was getting good at the little facial cues. “You don’t remember anyone you know, how to feed yourself properly or how to use a computer… but you remember the name of a stranger?”
The glances between the siblings told me they were not as set on this as I was. The problem with that was that I needed Peter. Yes, I needed to find a stranger to find out what had happened to me. That was the only thing I was certain of. I didn’t need these people to get in my way. I couldn’t give them what they needed, and they could stop searching for it when I was finally able to leave. Still, giving them something might persuade them to be encouraging instead of hindrances for me.
“I remember other things,” I volunteered. Rose turned away from the lasagna, leaving it to set I supposed after her long lecture earlier.
“Really? That’s wonderful.” She smiled broadly. “What?”
I looked at their hopeful faces and decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. “A flash of the Cathedral, and the area of Winterland.” Best not to mention that these memories had been from what looked like another time. If they thought I was insane, they would absolutely not help.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Rose’s face, confusion Peter’s. Then Rose settled for determination. “Good. That’s really good, Ben. It’s a start.” Then she looked down at the table and her brows furrowed in confusion. I had managed to give Peter two knives, myself two forks, and Rose’s knife and fork lay crossed above her plate. Not like this had ever been necessary for me to know. I knew that much. Her face told me I had made a mistake in something that was apparently simple and common knowledge. The two knives versus the forks hinted at where I’d made the mistake.
“Hey,” I said in my own defense, because… someone really had to. “At least everyone got a plate.”
Chapter 24
“I mean… it’s two thirty p.m. A little early, don’t you think?” Peter took in the entrance of the bar with a dubious look.
“Is it?” I had no idea.
“For most people, yeah.”
“Huh.” Well I couldn’t argue. All the coffee hadn’t done me any favors in the long run so far. Alcohol was not any better in excessive amounts. I felt better after lunch though. Some proper food and a shower had made me more alert and less shaky. Actually, Peter had refused to go with me unless I took one. We’d been done with the meal when he’d seen Param Young digitally check into this place, whatever that meant. I had to trust Peter on that. His “Jeez, dude, take a shower first or I’m gonna pretend not to know you among people,” had spun me into action. Turned out it had been worth it. Taking care of the body, made it feel slightly less suffocating.
“You’re sure he’s here?”
“According to his GPS. Most people forget it’s on.”
I glanced up at the sign. “Benny’s Pit Stop.”
“Classy.”
Further up on the wall was a neon sign with the same logo that would light up come darkness. I supposed it didn’t need to be classy if all one wanted was the liquids in there. That reminded me that I hadn’t actually tried anything stronger than beer so far. I had liked it, and supposed that Old Ben must have as well.
We entered a darkened room, browner than the coffee shops, and less crowded. A couple of people at the tables, only one at the bar. The man we were looking for. Perhaps Peter was right. With this few customers, it was early.
“That’s him.” Peter nudged me and pointed.
“Yeah.”
“Think he’ll recognize you?”
“Only one way to find out,” I said and headed over to the bar as the bartender handed Param a glass with a brown liquid in it. As Peter and I approached him, he didn’t notice us. From what I could see studying him in profile, he looked older than his age. And tired. Not healthy at all. A bit like me I realized, though still worse. I had been neglecting the body’s needs for a few days only, this man looked to have been doing it a while. Years probably. His black hair and beard were neatly trimmed and cut, so he cared enough to deal with that. I glanced at the drink in his hand. Maybe Peter was on to something.
“Mr. Young?” Peter began as he stopped by Param’s right side. I stopped by his left, though unnoticed at the moment.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve been looking for you,” Peter continued. “We’re hoping you can help us with—”
“Who’s we?” Param’s words were slurred as he glanced up to see Peter properly. Then he turned to have a look at me. A look that sent his eyebrows skyward. I took this as a sign he did recognize me, and was about to introduce myself, as his eyes grew wide. Obvious recognition at least. Unfortunately, that’s when he cried out in shock and surprise, and tried to move away from me. Seated on a barstool, that wasn’t easy. His legs betrayed him as they couldn’t move through the metal, and he fell backward and crashed to the floor. His drink spilled onto
him and the floor, and for some miraculous reason the glass didn’t break as he held on to it. Still, his eyes did not leave me, wide and with a warm brown color. Terrified. That’s how I would describe the look. As Peter and I stood, rooted to the bar in surprise at this spectacle, Param scrambled to his feet. Peter managed to get his manners together enough to try and help the man, but Param pushed him off, glanced at me again, and ran.
“What the hell?” Peter shouted. Everyone in the bar was staring at us. “What was his problem?”
“Come on,” I said as I got the head working again. The man had recognized me. He knew me. That was more than I did. I couldn’t let him get away.
I heard Peter following me, but as we got outside again, the streets were void of drunk and terrified men running around.
Damn.
“What the hell was that?” Peter stopped on the curb and looked around in bewilderment.
I could only shake the head. I had been right. The memory, the message I had received when at Sophie’s confusing reading. It all made sense. There was one person in this city who knew something about it. Peter stopped searching the street with his eyes, and turned back toward me.
“Fucking hell, Ben. You really scared him off. He even took his glass with him.”
Chapter 25
“Shouldn’t we just leave him alone?”
I ignored Peter and headed up the short stairs to the entrance of the house in front of us. We had now managed to go to one of the suburbs north of Curtain Fields and I was beginning to get used to traveling everywhere in the city. I was also beginning to wish for a car. Unlike the coffeemaker, I suspected the technicalities of operating such machinery might be slightly more difficult.
Peter had found out Param’s address along with the other information. His house was situated in a quiet area, houses like it on either side and across the street. Actually, the whole street was lined with them. Medium sized, two-story buildings. Most of them were white, as was Param’s, and everyone sported a small garden at the front. I stopped at the front door and rang the doorbell. At the same time, I heard Peter’s hesitant steps following.
