by Bri Clark
“You think a broken leg or a concussion is better than asking me for help?” I struggled to lower my voice. Not being able to contain my angst with myself or with her, I stood up. Yet again, I could have caused her harm. Marie’s fragility and my cursed strength were a real problem. I was in the middle of pacing when her voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Imagine being completely alone...” she began then stopped. “Imagine not having anyone understand what you’re going through.” She ended there and all my anger melted away.
I hadn’t known she was awake for that conversation. Nevertheless, she not only heard it, she understood, and best of all, she remembered. The blossoms of hope that maybe she could completely recover bloomed. Cradling her in one arm, I moved her IV cart with the other. When I carried her back her body sagged against my chest. Tucking her in, I found my friend, the stool, at her bedside.
“I’m sorry, Henry, for calling you Captain.”
“Peace, Marie, think nothing of it.” I pulled her blankets up.
“You should rest.” I suggested.
“I’m fine,” she argued then yawned.
Grinning, I thought she was like a defiant child.
“When you wake up, I promise I’ll answer all your questions. However, I need you to rest first,” I assured her, attempting to bargain. Dark shadows under her eyes looked worse against the white of her skin.
“Why does it matter?” she challenged.
Crossing my arms and sighing, I tried to rein in my frustration. “Is it too much just to go to sleep? I mean, I know you’re tired. Why all the fight?”
“I’m scared.” Brushing her hair behind her ear, I ran my thumb across her cheek to catch the lone tear. Her admission and emotion broke my heart.
“Why?”
“I’m scared that if I go to sleep, I won’t wake up. I’m scared that if I wake up again, I’ll forget what little I do know. I’m scared I’ll wake up, worst of all, without any memory and completely alone.”
“I’ll be here when you wake up, Marie. I promise.”
Examining my eyes, she finally snuggled into her pillow. “Henry?” she called, right before she dozed off.
“Yes, Marie?”
“You need to shave,” she instructed.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. She was sleeping soundly when I went to the cabinet to get my shaving kit.
Chapter Four
Marie
In the infirmary
Awakened by the signature bass of Henry’s voice and the tenor of the soft-spoken doctor, I was overcome with relief. Not only had I awakened, but I recognized who they were. Remembering the promise Henry had made and realizing he kept it provided an unexpected leap in my heart rate.
“She’s doing well, Henry,” Dr. Sampson whispered. “She has remarkable reflexes. Her heart is strong and her vitals are even stronger. The only traces of her ever being ill are her weight and memory loss.” The doctor’s last words teased my curiosity and the sensations came back strong as ever. On reflex, I started a controlled breathing willing the weight to past.
“Marie!” Henry gasped.
The desire to see Henry pulled my eyes toward him, and I was rewarded with the most magnificent show. The deep blue of his eyes transformed before me. It was as if a fog seemed to flow into and around his irises illuminating the remarkable crystalline texture and turning the appearance to that of a white gem. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the sensation subsided and the weight upon my chest disappeared.
“Better?” he inquired.
My breath caught and I simply stared.
“Marie, are you okay?” he asked again, while his hands grasped my shoulders and shook me slightly.
“How did you do that?” I insisted.
“Do what?” he asked as he propped me up on the pillows and handed me a glass of water. Irritated because we were back to the evasion maneuvers, I crossed my arms, scowled, and refused the cup.
“Aren’t you thirsty?” He extended the glass further.
“Yes, quite parched.” I answered as I turned my head away.
He frowned. “Then why not drink?”
“I asked you a question. I’ve asked you many questions, and yet you won’t answer them like you promised you would. Therefore, I refuse to eat or drink anything until you give me some answers.” Even though it was immature, I didn’t care. I needed answers more than water right now.
Dr. Sampson chuckled. He sat my file down on a counter and shook his head. Then he walked up to Henry, lightly patting him on the shoulder. “You, young man, have met your match. I would suggest that you tell her everything you are allowed to.” He walked over to the other side of my bed.
“Marie, my dear, it has been a most wonderful pleasure caring for you. I must take my leave now.” He then leaned down and gently cupped one hand to my face and whispered into my opposite ear, “If I can ever be at your service, my allegiance is already yours.” He kissed my forehead, and I continued to watch the door long after he was gone.
Sadness threatened to overwhelm me. It wasn’t until Henry pointed it out that I realized I was crying. Henry offered me a tissue.
“Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know.” I said. Looking away from the door to answer him, I found his eyes again. They brought back my original question. I arched my brow in expectation. He moved his stool closer to my bed so we were face to face.
“I’ll tell you why you were crying and answer all your questions, but I have a condition.”
He waved a plate of rich smelling bread in front of my face, and I scowled. How unfair! Hunger cramps assaulted me like a boat tossed at sea, and my stomach growled like the wind.
“You must eat while I explain,” he insisted. Taking the plate and glass, I ate the food with the aggression of a hyena after a three-day hunt.
“You were feeling sad because Dr. Sampson was upset about leaving. He wanted to stay with you. However, Abram has business for him elsewhere.” I opened my mouth, determined to ask my questions.
He raised a hand and shook his head no, insisting on my silence. “I’ll continue, but you must save all questions, comments, or even curses until I’m done.”
Taking a drink of water, I resigned myself to silence.
He smiled and continued. “You have a power within you, Marie. It’s called Glazier.” He stopped and studied me.
I let the bread drop and set the water to the side. I suddenly didn’t know if I wanted him to continue.
“I possess Glazier as well. As far as anyone knows, we’re the only ones. It’s hard to explain. It’s so much easier just to show you.” As he spoke, it was as if I could feel the emotion behind his words. When he mentioned showing me, I noted his heart rate increase and the thin film of sweat on his brow.
“Why are you excited?” I asked, sitting up in the bed alert now. It was a little exhilarating to feel what he felt.
He stood up and seemed uncomfortable, embarrassed even. I swung my legs over the side of the bed toward him.
“Wait, now you’re embarrassed.” I exclaimed. “Why?”
He came and sat back down in front of me, placing each of his muscle bound arms beside me. I felt small in his near-embrace.
“I’m not used to people knowing what I feel. It’s a little disconcerting, especially for a man.” He explained while his eyes dazzled me again.
“Are my eyes like yours? Are they from Glazier?”
“Yes, yours are like mine. But Dr. Sampson says yours are beautiful and mine are just wrong.” He pushed away and handed me a piece of folded material. “You should get dressed.”
“Am I going home?” I asked, but then I felt his sudden sadness. “Why are you sad? Aren’t you taking me?” His face appeared amused, but he felt the opposite. This must be what he was speaking of when he mentioned being a man and I didn’t say anything else about his feelings.
“Well about that, Marie….” He paused, scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth aga
in, then stopped. While he continued to scratch his jaw, the silence became so heavy I thought I would burst.
“Spit it out, Henry.” It wasn’t pleasant to feel him struggle with the words to say, especially when I was so far in the dark.
“Marie, this is home now. I’m to train and mentor you.”
“What am I training for? Why do I need a mentor? And why is this home? Aren’t you guys even going to try and find out who I am?” The questions were like a volcano spewing forth. I felt so many things at once, my emotions, his emotions, and the sensations threatened to overwhelm me. Suddenly I felt trapped, scared and confined. An overwhelming need to escape caused me to look for the door. I didn't think any further than just leaving.
However, moving was different. It was like one minute I was on the bed, the next I was outside the door, then against the wall, and then in Henry’s arms.
“Have you gone mad, woman?” Henry's arms held me close as he whispered against my cheek. Despite his outward calmness, he fumed as he carried me back to the bed. I didn’t attempt to answer him, forcing myself to breathe instead. “Good Marie, in and out,” he encouraged. When I felt somewhat stable, I tried to explain.
“I don’t know how that happened? There was so much in my mind…and I just wanted to escape. I saw the door…and…well. You saw me.”
“It’s all right. I understand.” He unfolded the brown material revealing a large shirt. Like a gentleman holding a coat for a lady, he held it out for me to put on over my gown. The shirt was entirely too large so he folded the sleeves up revealing my hidden hands. I simply stood there as he took care of me. “I didn’t think you wanted to go about with your knickers showing.” He winked, and I wondered if he had already seen them. At his knowing smile, I look away.
“Where will I be staying? Where am I anyway? And why is this shirt so large?”
Henry shook his head and chuckled low. Placing one of my arms around his neck then wrapping his wrestler’s forearm around my waist, he hauled me up. Concern overtook me. Understanding the feeling wasn’t my own, I sought out answers from Henry.
“What?’ I asked as we headed out of the prison that I'd been confined to.
“You’re entirely too small,” he answered, shaking his head.
Before I could pursue his remark, he addressed some of my previous questions. “You’ll be sharing quarters with me. And before you protest, I’ve been ordered to always be with you.”
Unsure of exactly what the comment about my size meant, I decided silence was my best option. "We’re on a secret base, and the shirt is mine. Sampson keeps them there for convenience.”
What would I be training for and did Henry frequent the infirmary much?
We walked along several narrow corridors dotted with black metal doors. The base was gray and dreary. The absence of anyone else was prominent in the echoing of the hallway. Henry answered my unspoken question. “We’re isolated from other people. It’s for protection.”
Protection from what? I wanted to ask but we stopped outside one of the black doors. Henry typed in a code on a hidden panel signaling the electronic door to open. As we entered what was to be our quarters, I did a quick inspection. Gray carpet with gray walls made up the décor. More of the dreary. What a lovely place to call home.
Two closed doors were parallel to each other on the west side of the room. A small couch, a desk, and a chair along one wall made up the furniture arrangement. Two beds sat symmetrically against each side of the room.
Henry placed me on a bed and moved so fast that he was done by the time I blinked. In his arms a pile of clothes that had been scattered were spilling out of his hold.
“So how do you do that? You just think and it happens?”
“Sort of like that. I’ll show you tomorrow.” He put his clothes outside the door. Pointing to one door then the other he explained one was a bathroom and the other the closet.
Inspecting the closet first, I was surprised to see several rows of clothing for a woman, color coded and hung neatly above a drawer system with labels. Grabbing cotton pants and a shirt, a hot shower and some alone time was in order.
“I’m going to get us some dinner.” Henry said. I wondered if he somehow read my thoughts the way I could read his. Too scared to know, I retreated to the bathroom.
Shutting the door behind me, a long, deep breath escaped my lips. As the water sluiced over me, I inspected my body, discovering Henry to be correct. Having no memory of what I looked like before, there wasn’t an honest comparison. But being able to count your ribs didn’t seem too fit.
Dressing was intentionally slow going. Clearing the steam from the mirror, I saw myself for the first time.
My skin was pale but similar to Henry’s. My eyes were like his as well, but upon further inspection, they had a slight difference in them though it was nothing I could describe. The features of my face were long and protruded against my skin. I attributed it to my apparent weight loss.
After towel-drying my long red hair, I folded the towel in half and hung it over the bar with the ends parallel to each other. I considered the fact that I had just hung a towel up without any thought but in a very precise way.
Henry did a silent inspection as I walked into the room, starting at my bare feet and ending when he met my scowl.
“Look, I’d eat if you’d quit gawking at me. I know I’m too skinny.”
He cleared his throat and pulled out the chair at the desk. “I thought soup would be a wise choice to start with.”
I thanked him and we ate in civil silence. When we were done, Henry gathered the dishes and sat them on a tray outside the door.
“So, what will we do tomorrow?” I asked.
“We’ll begin your training.”
“What exactly are you training me for?”
His body was loose but his emotions were tightly controlled.
Crossing his arms against his massive chest and staring into some far-off place, he explained, “I’m a spy, Marie, a special kind of spy. Glazier enables you to go places and do things that humans can’t.” He sat down on a bed, but didn’t make eye contact. "I’m to train you to do the things only we can do. Our specialty is being ghosts. We go in, get the info, and get out without leaving a trace. Abram is my boss, and he wants me to train you to be my partner.”
It was impossible to digest what he did for a living. Still, nursing my mental and physical health was top priority right now. The reason behind Henry's apprehension about all my questions was clear now.
The fact of the matter was, at this moment, this was my lot in life. I couldn’t do anything about it, and instead of asking all the questions churning around in my brain, I opted for sleep. What was inside me? What would I do with it? Was I dangerous? What have I forgotten? What if I’ve done something terrible? Do I want to know? Too many questions assaulted me and I desperately craved the relief my blackouts provided.
“Good night, Marie. I hope you rest well,” Henry called.
A familiar blackness silenced my thoughts and with a contented smile, I passed out.
Chapter Five
Henry
In their quarters at the base in Norway
Marie slept, and I watched her, mesmerized. As I lay against my standard issue bedding, my thoughts drifted back to before I met Marie.
****
Watching the fog wrap around the base of Big Ben, I ran my fingers over my recently buzzed head. After finishing the mission early, I got a shave and a haircut from the same man who had cut my hair as a youth, before joining the Queen’s army, an elite military group that had recruited me just after basic.
The barber hadn’t seen me in years but knew me just the same. Said he’d never forget hair like mine. “Thick as syrup but light as a feather,” he had said.
A low, feminine moan sounded from behind me, pulling my attention from London’s fog banks. Lying in the bed was a russet, voluptuous woman who didn’t speak a word of English. Although I was fluent in her native t
ongue, it was easier to pretend not to be. However, when she had approached me in the hotel bar and made her intentions quite clear with body language, I had expected to have a pleasant evening.
Only it didn’t happen that way. Not at all. The motivation to enjoy her company simply wasn’t there. Thoughts of the fact that this woman was someone’s daughter or sister plagued my mind. Then thoughts of my own mother invaded. That was something that hadn’t happened since my childhood.
So, instead of becoming more acquainted with her, I got her well beyond tipsy and tucked her into bed. She rolled over and a shapely tanned calve attached to a small foot with long, painted pink toes peaked out from the blanket. I smiled at the sight though still unmotivated. I still appreciated her beauty even though I didn't want her.
Grabbing my coat, I left as quiet as a breeze and rode the elevator down to the lobby. Seeing Peter at the desk, my smile returned. Peter knew the way things were and had been paid well to see to my sometimes-odd requests when I was in town. Perhaps he had come in after I checked in. It seemed to always work out that way.
