Vision

by Beth Elisa Harris

  My eyes narrowed when I addressed her. “I have one request. I want to take meals in my room. I refuse to break bread with these lunatics. And since I haven’t eaten anything in two days, is there something I can take up now?”

  Beatrice remained unchanged by my tirade, her stoic expression unmoved. She did, however, compile a plate of eggs, sausage, biscuits, butter, coffee, cream and sugar on a tray and said, “You may eat wherever you wish, Ms. Stone.”

  I gave a single nod. “Good.” That had been easy. “Thanks, Beatrice.” I took the tray, turned and met the consternate face of Jasper who peered at me with contempt. He probably wished he didn’t need my talents, so he seemed to merely tolerate my presence.

  “Tsk, tsk, such hyperbole. Yes “Ms. Stone,” he used air quotes to repeat my name the way Beatrice had, “Please by all means eat wherever you like.” He smirked. “I’ll be out of town for a bit. Beatrice, please ensure Ms. Stone is locked securely in her room at night. We may not be able to stop you from using your mental skills to contact others, but know we are in the process of arranging a permanent nomadic relocation program for you, especially considering StoneWall knows this location and tries to follow us all the damn time.” He examined his fingernails. “We will keep you very busy Layla – so busy finding you from one day to the next will be impossible. Good day.” His voice trailed off as he finished the last sentence walking away.

  I so hated him.

  After the long journey back to my room, I forced some food down and was relieved my stomach felt better, despite the constant pain of the situation. Without my phones, the only way to talk was telepathically, which still felt uneasy, although Jasper had mentioned they couldn’t stop me. Also, I wasn’t sure if I was being watched but decided to search the room later for bugs when everyone was sleeping and Jasper was gone. If there were none, I would feel more at ease using the psychic airwaves.

  I curled up on my bed for the remainder of the day until someone knocked. I opened my eyes to complete darkness and didn’t move, pleased with my curled up, catatonic state. I had no desire to speak to anyone.

  The knocking persisted, and I had no choice but to shuffle, albeit slowly, to the door. Andre stood on the other side wearing a dumb-ass grin, holding a dinner tray.

  “What?” I grunted, snatching the tray from his hands.

  My reaction took him off guard, though I don’t know what he ever expected. “You never responded to the lunch and dinner knocks, so the trays were taken away. Are you hungry? Beatrice asked me to ask you – if you needed anything before locking up.”

  “Freedom,” I responded dryly, turning to walk back to the bed.

  He stepped one stride inside. “No can do but how about company?” He actually had the nerve to sound sincere.

  I turned to him in disbelief, releasing exasperated air in the process. “Andre, you can’t be serious. Get out and lock the door or whatever.” He continued standing a few feet in from the entrance. “Go pester someone else. How about your mom?” He looked down at the mention of his mother. “Oh, no mommy? I can’t imagine any woman turning down this life. Your dad is such a catch.”

  He stepped a few paces closer, as if I had extended an invite to chat, which I had not. “Mum’s in – oh, the Bahamas. I had to remember which season has her where. She steers away from the family business.” His face was defiant but calm.

  “Must be nice, to be in the Bahamas this time of year.” I wanted to slap him so bad. “Now please leave. Great. Thanks.”

  “Layla…” He was still in the room.

  “Leave now, Andre!” Maybe I wouldn’t have yelled, but he missed a free pass to apologize earlier and didn’t.

  The door shut quietly then clicked to confirm my continued detainment while Bane planned to decimate the world with my help. In two days Belfast, after that, my fate was unknown. I would likely never know where I was being moved to, or when.

  I was screwed.

  And I had screwed myself.

  I missed the window to tell Stuart and Mom about Jasper’s visit, about his threats and demands because I let fear consume me. I chose martyrdom over common sense. People around me were smart. I was surrounded by trained professionals and naturally gifted people who cared about me, and I blew off their talents.

  The poor, pathetic sacrificial lamb.

  Things could have been different, and I would still be lying in my favorite place nestled against Stuart. Instead I underestimated everyone around me, choosing to acquiesce to inescapable madness.

  My school life was over. I would not return. Lost opportunities I had kicked ass for my entire life – gone, baby gone. Forget college – high school wouldn’t even be completed, here or in the States.

  Yep, I had royally, completely and totally screwed everything up, and I would punish myself through eternity for my shortcomings.

  Hot tears drained into my ears. There was no hope, so I decided to be nothing. Doing and being nothing required less pain and energy. I thought about how people became addicted to painkillers to achieve apathetic nirvana. I was a master within minutes, and still drug-free.

  If my Clear abilities would be used for evil, at least I would control the rest of my mind.

  Are you alone?

  Fairchild? This had to be a dream.

  Are you alone? He sent.

  Yes.

  Are you all right?

  No.

  You’re slipping away, I can sense it. Don’t give up, love.

  There’s no hope. Forget about me. They have this all planned and will be moving me…

  You’re still maddening, even in captivity. We can’t use psychic airwaves for a philosophical debate, Layla.

  Sorry. Does everyone know?

  Of course, and there are plans underway.

  What plans?

  I take it you don’t have your phone? He asked.

  No, they took it right away. I’m going to Belfast in two days to overthrow the government.

  Do you know where you are leaving from?

  No idea. I’m locked in a room with no information.

  Bloody hell. Are they feeding you?

  Yes, three squares, but I can’t eat much.

  You have to try. I’ve seen you with low blood sugar and we need your head clear.

  Trying…

  Don’t worry past this minute.

  I miss you. (pause) Fairchild?

  I…I’m going insane, love. I failed…like Jon…

  No. I messed up. I knew for 3 days before leaving. He threatened to kill everyone if I didn’t cooperate.

  Still…

  I was afraid for you, Mom, Colin, everyone.

  We could have…

  I know.

  So they’re using you? That’s what Liz said.

  Yes. To read the minds of world leaders for Bane advancement. I’ve switched sides apparently.

  Please believe me. We will get you out.

  You only have a two-day window Fairchild.

  Layla? Mom joined.

  Mom?

  Are you okay? She asked.

  Yes. What is this, a telepathic conference call? I joked.

  Oh, I didn’t realize you were talking to Stuart.

  Layla, are you there? Stuart asked, only able to hear my head.

  Yes Stuart, but Mom has reached me. Sorry, Mom. Hold on, Stuart. I’m fine, Mom. I’m locked in my room. Jasper is out of town until Belfast in two days.

  Arthur McDowell.

  Yes! They mentioned him.

  Ireland’s Prime Minister. We’ve been tracking Bane activity and…

  What, Mom?

  It’s bad, Layla. Really bad. We must get you out.

  What is going on? Are you in England? I asked.

  Yes. Working at London headquarters with Colin. What’s going on is the Irish government is in dire straits. The Bane have a plan to overthrow the country. If that happens, with your help, it will be disastrous.

  Layla? It’s like listening in on a phone call from one
end. Stuart sent.

  Hold on, Stuart. Go ahead, Mom.

  Layla, listen. They don’t want you dead; at least now so don’t fear for your life. Understand?

  Yes, but what do they need me to do that they can’t do?

  Read security secrets McDowell would never reveal to anyone. They want you to decipher their weaknesses, to give Bane advantage.

  Mom, I’m scared.

  Don’t be scared, love. Stuart sent.

  Don’t be scared, Layla. Mom echoed. We have two days. We’ll get you out. Keep your head straight. I’ll contact you later. Goodnight.

  Goodnight, Mom.

  Layla?

  Hi, Stuart. Mom’s gone.

  So she’s Mum, now? He jested.

  The only one I have. What the hell. I may never…

  Stop. Don’t go there.

  Sorry. Favor?

  Anything.

  Don’t let anyone I love, die.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  The next morning, someone left a breakfast tray when I was in the shower. Feeling more energetic after the mental intervention the night before, I ate more food than usual before searching the room for bugs and cameras. It’s not that I knew where to look, or how to identify instruments of espionage hidden in brick-a-brac, but I would try to use mental powers to ‘feel’ them out – or just look for weird stuff that seemed out of place.

  Just when I started the search someone knocked.

  Without thinking I responded. “Go away, Andre!”

  “Ms. Stone.”

  Beatrice.

  I opened the door to the stoic faced woman wearing what appeared to be the same black uniform she wore daily, blond hair neatly secured.

  Her face remained still. “Your tray?”

  “Oh, sure.” I walked to the desk used for dining and delivered the tray back to Beatrice.

  “You can walk around if you like. I’ll leave the door unlocked for a while. You should move around.”

  I smiled. “I’m good but thanks.”

  “I’ll leave it open in case you change your mind.” As she turned to walk away, she looked back over her shoulder and without moving her mouth said, “The room is clean” before clipping down the long hall.

  The room is clean? Okay, stating the obvious since they had an entire house staff.

  But that’s not what she meant.

  Beatrice didn’t actually speak. I was certain her mouth had not moved.

  She was telling me the room wasn’t wired using her mind.

  And how the hell did she know I was checking?

  And who the hell was Beatrice?

  The thunderstorm brought sheets of rain that draped the windows like curtains. I went to stand by one of the glass panes and looked down at the deceptively green, lush courtyard. I managed to start a fire in the fireplace, something to stare at while hours passed unnoticed. Breakfast and lunch had come and gone. The kitchen staff delivered lunch instead of Beatrice or Andre.

  Beatrice was likely laying low and maybe Andre was finally taking me seriously about staying away although I still wondered how he spent his days, and how creepy it must be to have Jasper as a father.

  But mostly I longed for Stuart. The weight of his hand balancing mine, the teasing playful kisses leading me to the edge and back when we just held each other...it was all too perfect and this was my punishment. All my life spent in isolation, feeling like a freak of nature, and then finding him only for a brief moment – a cosmic joke, and so unfair.

  An occasional glance at the desk clock reminded me how much time meant nothing. There would be nowhere to go until I was ordered. The rest was simply passage.

  At some point I drifted to sleep...again.

  It wasn’t just her voice this time. She was in front of me. We stood toe to toe, facing each other.

  Layla.

  Hi, Mom.

  I like that you call me Mom now. You look well.

  Well sure, it’s a dream.

  Hhmm. Sort of.

  Are you really here?

  I’m…yes. I have the gift Sarah had – to infiltrate dreams. Clear to Clear, of course.

  And you said I was powerful. Where are you now?

  Lying down, eyes closed but not asleep. You are sad, don’t be.

  I miss…everyone.

  We miss you. He can do this too, visit you like this. I’ll show him.

  Thank you, Mom.

  (smiling) Layla, we…

  Mom. Hold me. Can you hold me?

  Yes. Yes, of course.

  We closed the inches between us, carefully reaching out to the other until we were hugging. After a few moments, we gently released our embrace.

  Mom?

  Yes.

  Do you love me?

  With every fiber of my being. I’m sorry I failed to be a good mother…nose to the grindstone to try to help the greater cause and all.

  Mom?

  Yes.

  I’m...

  Sshh. Some things are clear without words.

  When my eyes opened it was twilight and still pouring. There was another knock on the door – too early for dinner at four in the afternoon. No one was there but a tea service sat on a tray still hot with steam. I glanced both ways but not a soul walked the endless hallways. Strange…I had no clue who resided near me in this ‘wing’ of the manor. The plush imported rugs lining the hardwood floors always muted footsteps.

  I tiptoed out a couple of steps in my thick socks and sweats, trying not to be conspicuous to no one in particular. Expensive paintings and sculptures lined the walls, and solid marble tables and plants were dispersed evenly in succinct uniformity. All this luxury unnoticed and isolated, like me – inanimate objects in a distant wing of a cold castle.

  Continuing my venture down the endless hallway, I finally reached one staircase leading down I hadn’t seen before. Buckets of rain made the outside world shrouded in a gray cloak as I longingly gazed out the large window where I stood at the end of the corridor. Like Alice, I had fallen down the rabbit hole, sensing invisible eyes lurking, unseen and unfriendly creatures melted into every corner.

  “Hey.”

  I jumped a foot high when out of nowhere Andre stood behind me. No wonder I thought I was being watched.

  I turned back toward the room. “I was just going back.” My pace picked up as I headed toward the door I left open, waving general gestures of acknowledgements at the walls. “Nice art.”

  “Layla, wait!” He had reached out to grab my arm then thought better. “I just want to talk.”

  I stopped and swiveled to face him. “No.” I said defiantly.

  His eyes were pleading. “Please? One minute, that’s it.”

  I made no effort to conceal a giant eye roll when my arms folded in front of me after I stopped walking. “One minute.”

  Andre stood before me cloaked in honest misery – a puppy asking forgiveness I was unwilling to give. “Layla…I’m…sorry.”

  I leaned toward him slightly, feeling suddenly in control. “Say that again?”

  This time he didn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry for what happened…for everything.”

  I shrugged my shoulders and headed back to my...quarters. “Okay,” I said while walking.

  He worked to keep up. “Okay? That’s it?”

  “Andre, you are in no position to emotionally bargain with me. You apologized now let that be enough.” I slowed my pace slightly.

  “Do you forgive me?” He leaned in almost imperceptibly as if to test the space between us, a kiss on his mind and so not happening.

  “Andre, really? You are Bane for Christ’s sake. You and your mad hatter of a father kidnapped me. I’m a prisoner in your house. Forgiveness? Don’t push it, but thanks for the effort.”

  I picked up the tea tray and closed the door with my foot, smiling to myself.

  Maybe Andre hadn’t totally converted to Banehood yet. He was still young. Maybe there was a ray of hope he wouldn’t become Jasper.

  And then
I remembered how he attacked me, pushing and grunting, a reminder of Wilbur MacDonald and Sarah, and how his obsession with her led to murder. Keeping a safe emotional and physical distance would always be a good rule with Andre.

  The lack of activity and too much sleep made me restless with loads of pent up energy. I tried doing the basic yoga postures I learned from Sienna. I ran in place only to become over heated quickly with the crackling fire keeping the room warm. There was a massive bookshelf in the room with old, original looking volumes of classics, but focusing on reading was impossible, and then dinner came which I barely touched opting instead for a bubble bath.

  Life without television sucked, but apparently Jasper wanted me totally extricated from the outside world. Either that or this room was never used enough to warrant an entertainment system.

  There was little left to do except lie on the bed. The two days of waiting would end soon, and I would be leaving Branson manor for Ireland and beyond. With no knowledge of the big plan I couldn’t inform anyone about the next move.

  The fear of being a sitting duck rushed back. I sank further into the oversized downy mattress. I must have drifted because the knock startled me. The clock across the room read 7:12 PM. “Yes?”

  No answer. I padded to the door and opened enough to peek at Beatrice’s stone face staring through the crack. “The trip is delayed indefinitely.”

  “What? Why?” Not that I was in a rush to stage a government coup, but the thought of movement toward escape was my sole hope. Beatrice was mid-pivot, ready to walk away.

  Mr. Branson didn’t say. At least a week. She sent.

  “Uh, okay. Thanks for stopping by.”

  Great. Now the future was really vague – wait. “Beatrice!”

  She turned around but said nothing.

  “Beatrice…your…you didn’t ‘speak’ that last comment or the one the other day. Don’t bullshit me – I’m a Clear.”

  It was then she smiled to reveal a somewhat attractive face – pretty, even. No. I did not.

  Before I could pepper her with questions, she ducked down a side hallway almost running in her practical pumps. Something told me to wait – I’m not sure what, but I didn’t follow her as she left the impression our conversation wasn’t over.