Symmetry

by T M Caruana

  I peered out of my bedroom to the hallway where the door to the left led to the outside world. To the right I could see a glimpse of the living room. It was late; no staff in sight. This was the perfect opportunity to escape. I had never even thought about escaping before. Well yes, I had dreamt of the outside, but never had I seriously planned it. Where would I start? What could I expect and what would I need out there?

  I pulled out the bottom drawer on the dresser and took out my small, black bag with its many compartments. The kitchen staff had given it to me as a Christmas present to keep biscuit cutters. That’s what the patch I had placed in the bag described, as I knew I would forget. I emptied the cutters into the drawer without thinking about the noise they made. Next, I quickly opened the drawer above to pack underwear, a top and a shirt. In the bathroom I grabbed the towel, but then hung it back on the hook. I assessed that I just needed the essentials.

  In the mirror over the washbasin tired eyes surrounded by greyish skin looked back at me, making me shiver and frown. My blonde hair was a mess, so I brushed it and quickly pulled it into a ponytail. Why make myself beautiful for what awaited me outside the clinic? I had never been interested in my appearance and it seemed like an act to try to show otherwise.

  After debating with myself, I brushed mascara over my eyelashes, which at least gave life to my blue-violet eyes. I brushed my teeth and quickly stuffed the three articles in the bag. No lipstick. I had never been much for it. My pale lips could show I wasn’t vain and besides I would lick it off within ten minutes. Where would I be in ten minutes? I would probably still be in the ward. Suddenly, something else occurred to me -where would I get money? I had never needed money before. I could always improvise on the way out, look through other people’s belongings. No, that didn’t feel right. Maybe it was best to stay in the ward? No! I couldn’t stay here forever. I had to escape tonight. The idea that I would forget that Vic had said farewell tonight and die of grief when he never came back was too daunting.

  Out in the kitchen I rooted through every drawer, opened every cupboard and every jar and eventually saw the white piggy bank where the staff put their snack money. It wouldn’t be much, but it was a start. The piggy bank opened from the bottom and the contents poured out into my hand. I put the money into the compartment on the front of the bag. Then I threw some biscuits into the slot on the side. Now I was ready for the world, yes…or almost. I hovered in the doorway to my room. The purple teddy bear that had always been my friend and comforter sat on the bed, looking straight at me. The fabric was old and its padding had begun to seep out through its left foot. To others he might not seem like anything special; two embroidered black eyes, a nose and a mouth. But I was an adult now. I couldn’t drag a soft toy with me on my quest. I tried to convince myself that he barely fitted in the bag.

  The deep sigh was ambiguous this time, as I really would miss my secure ward. The ward had given me a roof over my head although I didn’t consider it to be a home. My gaze wandered around the room one last time. Something wanted to pull me back - ‘stay in your safe bed’! But I had made up my mind and continued past my room and to the door that would lead to freedom. My finger pressed gently but firmly on the letter U followed by the numbers 235. A green light lit up on the panel and I heard a click. My frail hands pressed down on the handle, whilst I gave the door a shove with my hip, opening it until I could just peer round the gap. I felt my heart almost stop with the fright. I had crossed the forbidden line that would surely result in consequences.

  I looked to see if the coast was clear. No one was around. I gave a huge sigh of relief. I had held my breath since I had left my room. Holding my breath for a long time was something I have mastered well. Sometimes, it is almost as if I don’t have to breathe at all. I always wondered if something was wrong with me so I had never told Vic about it. Besides I was too modest to say something positive about myself and always tried to hate myself, preparing my useless life for a death that never came. But Vic had always been there to point out the opposite. No, I shouldn’t think of Vic now. It saddened me and I needed all my strength for my mission. I took another deep breath before sneaking across the floor as quietly as possible.

  This room was only a little bigger than mine. There was room for two desks, and in the middle of the room there was a workbench with drawings. It was strange that there were only two desks when there were three people. As I took another breath I could smell Vic’s aftershave and it unexpectedly made me halt. I never knew he was so close to me all the time. On the wall there were numerous buttons and dials in different colours that surrounded a glass window above the desks. When I looked through the window, I saw an almost empty room with just one chair in the centre. The chair was similar to a dentist’s chair and could be adjusted into sitting or lying positions. It was linked to various tubes and electrical wires, which increased my curiosity about what each button on the wall controlled.

  I sat down at the right-hand desk. This didn’t look dangerous at all, as my dad wanted it to seem. It upset me that I wasn’t involved in the research. Even though I was sick, I could be helpful by just pushing the buttons. ‘This isn’t a place for a little girl’, echoed in my head again. Shaking my head, I took a new breath and looked around amongst the objects on the desktop. It was clinical; not a pen was out of place and not a single family photo was displayed. The desk’s drawer was locked.

  “There must be a key near,” I whispered quietly to myself even though I was alone in the room.

  All I could see when I looked around were old books on a shelf. There were books on Isaac Newton, the Great Fire of London, a Bible, one on the Universe and other scientific books that were related to the work at the Institute.

  On the workbench were drawings and a notebook, also by Isaac Newton, which I discovered contained mostly calculations as I quickly flicked through it. Where had father got hold of it? It looked genuinely old, with the same handwriting as my father’s. With the same name and handwriting the scientist must have had a significant role in the family. Maybe if I read it, I would understand my father in a different way and maybe even get him to be proud of my newfound scientific knowledge. That would make a change from the disappointment I had always seen in his eyes when he came to visit me.

  The notebook was quite big so I tucked it into the large compartment in my bag. I would have to return it one day. Father would be furious if it disappeared and his temper was notorious.

  Where was I? I had lost my train of thought. Oh yes, the locked drawer under the desk. How could I open it? My thoughts turned to the key-like jewellery I had been given by Vic just hours earlier. It would be too simple if it were the key that belonged to that drawer, but would it really be so strange? He would never have guessed that I would find myself in the research room with access to the drawer. My fingers fumbled under my top to get it out and I had to hunch my body to reach the keyhole. Yes, of course it was the right key. The handle to the drawer was solid, made of copper, which made the almost empty drawer easy to pull out gently.

  I couldn’t have felt more baffled in the ensuing seconds. In the drawer there was only a silver pendant and a piece of paper with Vic’s poem. My eyes were drawn to the pendant that glistened in the corner. It was hard to break into and only opened when I pushed my nail into the groove between the two halves. There was a small picture inside that Vic had taken of us on a day we had baked a gingerbread house one Christmas years ago. It was strange that Vic wasn’t in the picture. I could have sworn that the picture was taken of the two of us. But with my poor memory I was quite pleased to remember the occasion at all. It had been a wonderful day; the sun had been shining after the frost had appeared on the ground during the night. All the workers and staff were on holiday and it had just been the two of us. When I closed my eyes I could remember the smell of gingerbread and how cleverly Vic had decorated the house. Again, a tear fell down my cheek, but this time I didn’t even try to prevent it, as I was sure it wouldn’t be the las
t one of the evening.

  Were these items the big secret that I wasn’t allowed to show to anyone? On reflection, there was probably nothing else I could have found that would have had more meaning to me. Perhaps money, but the poem was of great sentimental significance even though I knew it by heart. There were some additional scribbles written on the paper and something in pencil that seemed to have been added after the poem. It read: ‘Captain Lalo’, with the numbers ‘0360724,0052075’ written below. How odd. Vic had never mentioned any captain or that he specifically liked the sea or even boats in his stories. Or had he?

  I put the poem and charm in the bag next to the notebook. I closed and locked the drawer again so as to leave the room as I had found it. No trace of my whereabouts should be left behind. I wondered if the key unlocked the other drawer too. I tried but it wouldn’t open.

  Suddenly I heard the voices of two men from behind another door next to the one I had just come through. They were familiar; they belonged to my father and uncle. I couldn’t even imagine how angry father would be if he saw me here - my adventure would be over. ‘I have to return to my room’, I thought in panic, imagining the pain in my arm due to father’s steady grip that would give me more bruises. I had to collect myself. ‘Think quickly, where can I hide?’ My knees scraped the floor when I crawled under the workbench, where the overhanging papers, with all their scientific calculations, would help to conceal me.

  The door opened and two pairs of legs stepped into the room. I bit my teeth hard, locking my jaw, as I always did when I felt nervous. My heart was pounding so hard. I was terrified that father would hear it. I couldn’t go back; although my heart was pounding, it was still stubborn and filled with a desire for adventure.

  4

  THE SUMMONING

  Samuel didn’t waste time on unnecessary words and disappeared from sight to re-appear with his right arm around the younger man’s neck. He gripped him tightly to stop the blood from circulating and the air from entering his lungs. The man grabbed hold of Samuel’s arm and quickly bent forward to throw Samuel’s lightweight body across the floor in a heap on top of the older man’s still unconscious form.

  Samuel was quickly up on his feet again in a rocking Taido posture with knees bent, right hand at his waist and the left straightened in an attack-ready position in front of his face. He threw his body down towards the floor and with support from his right hand he kicked the young man’s knees, making him fall on his back. Samuel may be a Taido expert, but he was equally aware of his weight disadvantage. He only fought battles he could win easily so as not to lose the power reserves needed to get out alive. He back-flipped towards the revolver that had fallen against one of the house’s wooden pillars, tucked it in his belt and vanished once more. He was gone again, a deadly wandering ghost.

  The man breathed nervously. He gazed around trying to prepare against any new attacks, randomly punching his hands in the air whilst pleading for his life. Samuel wanted to kill him to rid himself of the threat and to put an end to having to flee all the time. He considered his options. He wasn’t violent by nature and didn’t like having to harm others. In this case, the ‘other’ though was an evil villain who would deserve it, but he decided to spare him this time.

  Time was limited and Samuel rushed up the stairs to the bathroom where he had his medicine cabinet. He took two painkillers and sat down on the toilet lid to plan. He didn’t have much time; the young man could come upstairs any second.

  He had to decide what to pack and then escape. In the bedroom, next to the bathroom, he got his suitcase out of a cupboard. It was new, but Samuel didn’t care about fashion, architecture was his passion - in buildings he could see beauty.

  The case had four wheels at the bottom so that it could be pulled along easily. Samuel quickly packed clothing, a wash kit and jewels that he had inherited from his father. ‘The map!’ he thought. He couldn’t forget the map. He ran downstairs and was happy the attackers hadn’t made their way up from the basement. In the office he located the lever-arch file from the chaos on the floor, which the two men had created in their savage search for the map.

  He flipped to the page containing the map between the two glued papers. The page was old and yellower than the rest and he shook his head, thinking about how much misery this piece of paper had caused. With steady hands he carefully unstuck the paper from the page, went back to the bedroom and tucked it into the front pocket of his suitcase. He decided not to take his jacket; it had always been used to blend in with the people of this world. Samuel’s icy blood was used to much colder climes. He thought of his home, and sighed with homesickness and exhaustion.

  He refocused on his mission. Now he just had to take a taxi to Heathrow airport. ‘No’, he thought, ‘not a taxi’. He didn’t want anyone to pick him up, jeopardising his mission by giving his description if someone asked. An Asian appearance wasn’t common in this neighbourhood and it would be easy to remember if anyone asked about him. Walking into the city and then going by train to the airport was safer - he was less likely to be recognised that way. Best also to use cash as much as possible so that no one could trace his journey.

  He decided to withdraw cash one last time in the city, and then he would disappear. He considered purchasing a false passport. How long would that take? Would it be worthwhile so that he could be more confident that he wouldn’t be found again? Samuel made a few calls and got lucky at once. An old friend, who owed him a favour, knew someone who could do it in under an hour. It would take about forty minutes to walk to the city so that was perfect timing. Samuel had walked that path many times and he even knew a less frequented detour that he could take. On the plus side it was also beautiful and passed a small duck pond. He zipped his bag shut and rushed out.

  <><><>

  Samuel no longer flew first class since it reminded him too much of his wife. She had always been worth the best, just like she had always done her best to help others. Economy wasn’t as painful as the memories even though he ended up between two brothers who seemed to be on the brink of killing each other. There was also a small child seated directly behind him who would no doubt kick him in the back the entire journey. He had wanted to swap seats with one of the brothers in order to sit at one end, but their mother from the seat in front, objected and said it was probably best that he sat in the middle so they wouldn’t kill each other.

  “The journey isn’t that long. I am sure they won’t be any trouble as soon as the plane takes off,” the mother commented, without expecting a response.

  “It’s perfectly all right, I collect painful memories so I’m ecstatic now,” Samuel replied with a bitter sarcasm that made her turn around abruptly.

  ‘Great!’ Samuel thought, a mother who doesn’t want to sit in the middle and would let an elderly gentleman suffer a heart attack rather than take responsibility for her own children. Apparently, she was on ‘vacation’.

  He picked up a stack of flyers and a magazine from the seat pocket and began to flip through them to see if there were any good deals. His nerves began to play on him and he studied the emergency booklet. He had memorised it before, but was sure that he would still forget it if a real emergency occurred. He didn’t like to be trapped in the air. Luckily, the two brothers fell asleep after forty minutes and Samuel could relax.

  An hour later, Samuel was woken up by a pretty flight attendant, who asked him to fold away his tray and raise the chair back into the upright position. The aircraft was about to land. Samuel wished he hadn’t been woken up; the landing was the worst part of the whole trip.

  The old part of Malaga airport looked the same as it had seven years ago; the last time he was summoned to a reunion of the Honorary Knight Order. This time it was Samuel who had initiated the reunion to gather the members since he had found the map. Normally the meetings occurred once every decade and were unpleasant events as most of the members couldn’t agree over anything and never got along. The gathering comprised of six participants fro
m completely diverse backgrounds.

  Michael was a skinny, humorous, doctor with solutions that could confuse anyone. His long hair made him look more goofy than serious. He liked to appear tough, but would run like a hare in a hunt if confronted on his attempted heroic deeds. Despite this, he had a kind heart and Samuel knew he could trust him implicitly. For the most part, Samuel chose to spend his time with him, as he didn’t see eye to eye with Tarus who was like a nasty wolf on a dark night. Renowned for his desirability to women, Tarus had what might be called an ideal appearance. His skin was smooth, even under a microscope, with a golden tone and he had bronze brown hair. These colour characteristics would make one guess that his eyes were brown, but they had an unmistakable emerald colour. He didn’t speak much and remained quiet throughout the summons except for occasional comments where he always managed to sound remarkable as he spoke. Samuel couldn’t remember if he had heard his voice more than a few times. He didn’t understand why he was in the Honorary Knight Order, but the Chameleon must have had a use for Tarus, otherwise he wouldn’t be a member.

  Hunter was the only one who had contact with the Chameleon via phone. He was also the informal group leader and kept everyone under some form of organised control. He was the obvious choice since he had an authoritative voice and in addition, he held all the information provided by the Chameleon. He was strong, incredibly talented with weapons and there was no one who could outrun him. Leo, however, was the one who always came up with the wisest remarks. He was the most protective and also the most understanding of the group’s various characters. Even though he was an exceptionally skilled magician, he used his spells with care and only in emergencies, as if he wanted nothing to do with what could be considered his dark side. This self-imposed restriction of the use of magic wasn’t only a policy for this world, where all of his powers were fading, but also for his home world where his powers would be unlimited. At first encounter one could immediately realise that he repressed many secrets that lay like a blanket of guilt and grief over his shoulders. They had an iron grip over him, suffocating his life’s passions.