Twin Speex: Time Traitors Book II
Page 2
This time Ava did draw back in disbelief. “There is no evidence that Odette was ever married.”
Odell gestured to her laptop. “Give it a go.”
She pursed her lips, irritated at his presumption, but curiosity got the better of her. She turned to her laptop and typed, “Gabriel Wright,” “eighteenth century,” “barrister.”
Several entries popped up, and she clicked on his Wikipedia page. There was a pen and ink drawing of a particularly handsome middle-aged man. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail. Like a poet, a loose scarf was tied rather romantically about his neck. He wasn’t smiling, but there was something light and casual in his pose and expression, almost as if he had been drawn by a friend at a small, intimate gathering.
Ava read down the page. Gabriel Wright was described as the son of an innkeeper. He had distinguished himself at the bar as an advocate for the poor and disenfranchised. Outside of his work against slavery, he was most famous for gaining the bastard son of a duke’s daughter the right to visit his mother’s gravesite.
He wrote several pamphlets for the abolitionist cause, and she even recognized a quote attributed to him: “When we treat people like cattle to be bought and sold, we cheapen humanity to the point of self-destruction.”
She remembered a researcher who had used that very phrase as an eighteenth-century example of percipient thinking, foretelling the devastation slavery would wreak on a young nation through war and social injustice.
Gabriel Wright had immigrated to the colonies in 1775 with his wife…
“Odette…,” she whispered and glanced momentarily up at Odell.
She looked back down at the page and continued reading aloud, “ ‘Odette Wright, of which little is known, was considered to be very influential in her husband’s work. She was rarely seen in society, but was noted by court reports to be in attendance at some of her husband’s more important cases.’ ”
Ava looked again at Odell, who said, “Sound familiar? You know of her beliefs through private letters, her feminist and abolitionist work. It is not a stretch to imagine her married to a like-minded man.”
She shook her head, confused. “She kept her maiden name in all her subsequent writings and correspondence. How did you know? Why Gabriel Wright? And where did you get this portrait?”
“It was bequeathed to me through a family trust,” he answered vaguely.
“Your family? How are you connected? According to this, her married name was Wright.”
“That is correct, but Swanpoole was an alias.”
“An alias for what?”
“Speex. Her name was Odette Speex.”
Two
ODELL SAW HER sitting at the corner table next to the window. It had been “their table” since when they were very young. The old Lebanese couple who owned the place had served as surrogate grandparents, plying them with hummus and pita bread while they did their homework.
The small café was situated across the street from their old fifth-floor walkup. It had served as home base for the twins while their mother was busy challenging the “Balanchine Patriarchy,” as she had dubbed the ballet scene in New York City. They had seen even less of her when she decided to ditch it all and start her own company.
The White Swan Dance Theater had proved very successful, and a few years later their mother moved them to a spacious brownstone in a more sedate part of the city. Still, the twins gravitated to the old neighborhood. The Lebanese couple had long since retired, but their son, Jamil, ran the place with the same homey warmth that Odell felt as a physical embrace whenever he entered.
Ettie had been looking at her phone only seconds before and was now staring moodily out the window.
“Not coming, is he?” Odell pulled out a chair and sat down.
“No,” she replied, still looking out the window and abruptly changing the subject, “Do you see that little girl over there? The one with the knit pom-pom hat?” She nodded in the direction of a rather shabby-looking apartment building. “I think she lives in our old place. I wonder if she has my room.”
“Our room,” he reminded her with a smile.
She looked at him now and nodded sadly. “Yeah, I guess the one good thing about moving into a ‘proper brownstone,’ ” she said this with an exaggerated upper-class accent, “is that we got our own rooms.”
Odell leaned back in his chair and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Are you really nostalgic for our old apartment, or is Charlie’s latest no-show finally getting to you?”
He was speaking of Ettie’s most recent “boyfriend,” or whatever he was. Odell never really knew how to refer to the many men who vied for her affections. When it came to her amorous entanglements, he had learned early on to just stay out of the way. Ettie’s casual approach to relationships was several degrees removed from his own more sober and exclusive romantic habits. It didn’t help that their mother viewed Ettie’s behavior very unfavorably and often commented on the reversed stereotype of the twins’ sexual tendencies.
“Really, if you were a man, Ettie, I could understand these shenanigans better,” she often admonished.
Not that she in any way approved of Odell’s relative restraint. “When was the last time you went out?” was not an uncommon refrain. Often followed by, “Are you still pining for Emily?” Or Sophia, or Laura, or whatever other name Ivy could pull out of the blur of his past relationships.
He shook his head ruefully. There had been no one of late, too much work and too little opportunity.
But Ettie… well, this new guy was really doing a number on her. She wouldn’t admit it, of course. Ettie breezily dismissed Odell’s concerns. Charlie had twice before canceled a scheduled meet up with him, but Odell didn’t have to actually meet the guy to know he disliked him. A wealthy club owner—gees, he thought with disgust, could it get any sleazier than that?
“Hey, Odell, are you listening to me?”
Odell shook himself and looked at her with an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Work stuff, you know.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Really?” she said skeptically. “If that’s the case, I kind of agree with mom. You’re becoming entirely too monkish.”
“What were you saying?” he asked, ignoring her comment.
“It’s Ivy,” she replied.
Odell deliberately kept his expression bland, but he began to feel some serious trepidation. Ettie only ever used their mother’s given name when she was truly upset or disturbed by something she had done.
They often joked about Ivy’s ambitions, both social and professional. She was probably the oddest person Odell had ever encountered. Busy and driven, Ivy had spared little time for her children. However, the time she had given them was not without fun or affection. Never a physically demonstrative person, she was awkward with her feelings and laughed too loudly at jokes. But she did try to be a good mother—just not very hard.
Odell believed her social ineptitude, some of which he had inherited, would have made her persona non grata with all her wealthy benefactors had she not also been a virtuoso dancer and brilliant artistic director. It was his personal experience that genius was forgiven much.
He blew out his pent-up breath. “What’s up with mom then?”
She looked at him, and instead of the anger or resentment he was expecting to see in her eyes, they reflected only concern and some alarm.
“Something is very wrong, Odell. And I don’t mean her usual weirdness.” Ettie rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Baxter called to tell me she hasn’t been to the studio in several days.”
“Baxter?”
“Gees, Odell,” she replied angrily, “he’s her choreographer. You’ve probably met him half a dozen times.”
“Right, right, I remember. He danced with the Royal Ballet. Okay. So, she’s been out—”
“You’re the one who still lives at home,” she berated him, her anger mounting precipitously. “Don’t you even notice what she’s up to?” Just as abruptly, she relented. �
�Listen, I know you’re gone a lot, but it’s not just her missing some work. It’s where she has been and with whom.”
“Okay…” He raised his eyebrows, prompting her.
“After Baxter’s call, I went to the house. This was last Sunday,” she explained. “Before I could cross the street, I saw Ivy come out. Something about her posture… I don’t know… furtive-like, stopped me from calling to her.” Ettie had been staring off into space, but now focused her gaze upon him. “So I followed her.”
He laughed a little. “Don’t tell me, you jumped into a cab and yelled ‘follow that car!’ ”
She looked at him smugly. “Here’s the thing, Odell, she didn’t take the town car.” Ettie leaned in closer as if imparting a shocking piece of news. “She just waved to her driver and walked past.”
He opened his eyes wide in surprise. “She walked?”
“Not only did she walk, she took the subway,” Ettie declared dramatically and was pleased to see him sit back in surprise.
“I don’t believe it,” he replied flatly. “She never takes the subway. Not since we were kids.”
“Well, she did. And I followed her. She got off the train at Astor Place.”
“Bowery?”
“Yeah. And it gets even weirder.” Ettie turned to him, her eyes intense and serious. “I thought she was headed to the Bowery Hotel, but she turned onto Second Street and then into this little alleyway. I was afraid she would see me for sure, but she never once looked back.”
Odell could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he had a general sense of foreboding.
“There was a gate in a high brick wall, and she just walked in. I waited a minute before poking my head around. It was a walled garden or park or something—”
“A cemetery,” Odell informed her, “The oldest nondenominational public cemetery in the city.”
“There weren’t any tombstones, just some monuments,” Ettie protested.
“They are gravesites. But mostly there are underground vaults marked by plaques.”
“How do you even know this?”
He shook his head. “Don’t ask.” Then he quickly redirected her back to the story, “What happened next?”
“I really hate your mysterious crap,” she huffed before continuing, “Well, she met a man there. I mean, a really strange man. He was tall and dark with all this long, black hair. He looked… impassive—like he was carved from stone.”
“You didn’t recognize him?”
“No, I’ve never seen him before in my life.” Ettie met his eyes with that intensely concentrated look she typically reserved only for her dancing. “Odell, he wasn’t just strange, he was…,” she struggled for words, “…almost alien.”
“Ettie…” He reached for her hand.
“I know it sounds hysterical, but something is not right. I couldn’t get close enough without being seen, so I didn’t hear what they were saying. But, Odell, the look on her face—love… adoration. I’ve never seen her look like that before.”
Odell let go of her hand and drew a little back. “How long was she there? Where did she go afterwards?”
“She was with him five, maybe ten minutes. I hid between the wall and the building when she left.” Ettie shook her head. “But I didn’t follow her. I wanted to see where he was going, so I waited.”
Odell looked at her expectantly.
“He never left, Odell,” she said, her eyes intense with meaning. “I waited and when he didn’t come out, I went in.”
He tensed imperceptibly at her recklessness. Ettie never reacted well to his brotherly efforts to protect her. He schooled his features into a noncommittal expression and asked, “Did you find him?”
“No, he wasn’t there. It’s a small place. I could see the entire pa—cemetery.” She gazed out the window and drew in a deep breath. “There must be another exit, but I didn’t want to go in too far. No one was around, and I was a bit nervous about running into him alone.”
Odell gave silent thanks for this small concession to caution, and they sat without speaking for several minutes.
“What’s going on, Odell?” she finally asked without looking at him.
“How should I know?” he countered, “Ivy is as much a mystery to me as you.”
She looked at him now, her eyes so full of worry he almost couldn’t breathe. “It’s not just Ivy. When I was waiting for you, I saw you cross the street, but…” Her voice trembled slightly, and she bit her lip. “But it really wasn’t you, and the street scene…,” her voice trailed off.
He pushed down his panic and prompted, “Yes?”
She took a deep breath and said in a stronger voice, “You were dressed very strangely—like some kind of futuristic, Edwardian count or something. And the street was full of carriages, but no horses. When I looked down at my hands, the phone was there, but it was different, circular and heavy with dials and knobs—” she broke off, swallowed convulsively and continued, “At that second, it all seemed normal, but right afterward… I… I thought I was going crazy.”
He put his arm around her and drew her close. “You are not crazy,” he told her firmly. “You have just experienced a time shift.” He turned her to face him and put his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t—”
She opened her mouth to protest knowing he was going to evade an explanation, but, squeezing her shoulders, he stopped her.
“I swear to you, Ettie, I’m not being mysterious. Even a few days ago, I wouldn’t have had the words to explain this phenomenon to you. Let me get everything together in my own mind and then, I promise, I’ll explain it all.”
She breathed deeply to calm herself and asked, “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to talk to mom.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Until speaking with you, I really had no idea what to do next. But the fact that our mother is acting strangely, or more strangely than usual,” he amended, “is starting to make perfect sense to me.
“The last time something like this happened, it turned out to be very personal. I have no idea why it is happening again or why our family is in the middle of it, but I’m going to find out.”
Ettie sat back and ran her hands through her hair, a gesture mirrored by her twin brother.
“I guess I’ve got to meet dad anyway,” she said, referring to her regular Tuesday night dinners with their father.
Their parents had never married, but remained cordial even after their relationship had ended when the twins were still just babies. Only Ettie maintained an active relationship with him. Odell had never felt anything but slightly uneasy in his father’s presence. Only now, for the first time in his life, did Odell understand the emotional distance he maintained from him.
He had explained it to Ava as similar to growing an entirely new skin. It wasn’t the blinding revelation one might see in a movie, where the protagonist staggers around clutching at his head.
He had opened the letter, the journal, and breathed it in. It filled him from the inside out. The memories lodged in the nooks and crannies of his brain. They settled in between his present reality and two other lives, two other worlds. Everything clicked into place, the jigsaw puzzle completed, and a new life emerged from beneath his dermis to settle atop and fuse with his old skin.
He was the same man, but a new man. Odell wasn’t surprised to see the crystal key when he had opened the safe. He knew it would be there, just as he knew the Temporatus was parked in some inter-dimensional garage.
Odell admired Ava’s composure. She had sat there listening, the journal, letter, and portrait with their attendant letters of authentication spread out before her. He had taken a chance in trusting her.
He looked now at Ettie and knew his trust had not been misplaced. Ava hadn’t entirely believed him. He couldn’t blame her. It sounded crazy to his own ears. But she had promised to keep it to herself until he’d had time to sort it all out.
He nodded to Ettie and smiled. “Yeah, dad will be counting on you.”
Her usual sharp and confident personality reasserted itself. “I wish he could count on you too.”
Odell smiled at her and shook his head. “He doesn’t care much about me. It’s you he really loves.”
She threw him an annoyed look. This was an old argument. “You’re wrong, but I don’t have time to fight with you. And,” she continued, her expression softening, “I need my big brother right now.”
“Yes, that two hour head start gives me quite the advantage in experience and stature.” He laughed, and then stood with her, hugging her tightly. “Everything will be all right. I promise.”
She smiled at him a little sadly and, gathering up her bag and phone, left. At the café door she turned, and he waved goodbye.
Odell saw her, hair elaborately piled on top of her head. Her dress was tightly corseted, and the skirt brushed just below the ankles of her boots. A white glove with a little pearl button covered the hand that waved in return.
He managed to smile reassuringly before she exited the café and was gone.
Three
AVA HAD BEEN trying to reach Ettie all afternoon. She was almost frantic. Only loyalty to her friend had kept her from going straight to her department head with the story. That, and the fact that she was unlikely to be believed.
Odell had left her the portrait for specialists of her own choosing to examine, but he had taken the letter and journal. They had certainly looked authentic, and he had the experts to back them up. But the story within them was preposterous! Nevertheless, without them, she had no hard evidence of what had passed between her and Odell only this morning.
She dialed Ettie again, the call going immediately to voicemail. Ava put her phone down on the desk and stood up in frustration. She paced the small office and stopped to stare blindly out the window.