“If what you told me is true, Bernie, I can see why. I upset the status quo. I’d exist outside the rules.”
“No, son. You’d make the rules!” Bernie got up and walked over to place his hands on Stephen’s shoulders. “Listen, I can see this is upsetting you a bit. I know it’s different from what Waltz might have said. I’m not saying he lied. We just saw things differently.” He looked around. “Hey! You have a nice place here and are doing well for yourself. I’m proud of you. I know he would be too. You did a great job.”
“Thanks.” Stephen lost his excitement. “Look, I need to tidy up a bit before Patty comes over. And you’ve given me a lot to think about. How about we talk more when I get back from the weekend?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Love ya, kid.”
“Love you too, Uncle Bernie.”
Stephen walked Bernie to the door and stood at the top of the steps until Bernie disappeared. Afterward, he went back inside and did just what he said—tidied up by putting away a few tools that were still out and cleaning the place again. All the while, Bernie’s words played over and over in his mind. Like a broken record, it was funny at first, the thought of how powerful he could be, but it quickly became irritating to think that Waltz might not have told him everything. Then again, Waltz had been clear about that, saying there was more Stephen would find out. Waltz had also cautioned being careful in trusting others. But Bernie made sense.
What didn’t make sense to Stephen was why Bernie had seemed to disagree with Waltz so much but kept Bernard’s heritage a secret too, like Waltz did with him. It seemed that there was more to Waltz and Bernie’s relationship than either had let on. Yet, they remained Stephen’s family through the years.
Stephen pondered all this while waiting for Patty to show up to see the apartment. When she arrived, she acted excited with what Stephen had done. He had succeeded in impressing her. However, she did offer some suggestions, which Stephen listened to—and even liked, mostly. His only major objection was expanding the kitchen area, stating that he didn’t need more kitchen space.
“Where’s your mind at?” Patty asked
“Huh?” Stephen turned from the window to face Patty.
“I’ve been talking about how excited I am to finally get to go spend some quality time with my niece, and you’re just not here.”
“Oh, sorry. Bernie was here earlier. He laid some stuff on me. Not a big deal really.”
“Well, it seems like a big deal.” Patty stepped closer. “You’ve been a little distant lately. I know Waltz’s passing has been hard on you. But you’ve kind of distanced yourself some.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been working on this place and trying to figure out what I’m doing with the company.”
“Yeah, I know. It’s just that I want to help. And I don’t want distance. I want to get closer. I love you, Stephen. I’m here for you. And I can help.”
“I just need a little more time to get me settled. I promise. Let me do that, and I’ll let you help. Some of what I’m dealing with, you can’t help. I don’t even know how to help myself. It’s one day at a time. Besides, I hope getting away with Vincent will be a good de-stresser.”
“I have noticed you two spending more time together lately.” Patty grinned slyly. “Should I be worried?”
“Ew! No!” Stephen laughed. “Waltz trusted him.”
“I know. He’s been helping you get grounded with the business. I see all the paperwork and notes from your meetings, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Well, I better get going. You need to pack for the trip before it gets too late.” Patty grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter, then looked around the room and stopped at the bed. “Perhaps we could go shopping for furniture when you get back.”
“Sure, sounds good.”
Stephen walked Patty to the door and kissed her goodbye. He lingered at the door as she headed down the steps.
“Have fun, babe!”
“I’m sure I will,” he replied.
****
Stephen stood surrounded by darkness. As much as he tried, he couldn’t see anything else in the room with him. But, he knew someone was there, lurking in the dark. He could feel a presence. His powers had given him a confidence and boldness that most would never experience. Searching the room, trying to see the only way he could, with his mind, he sought out the other’s identity.
Who are you? Why are you hiding from me?
He waited. Nothing. He tried again.
I know you’re there. You can’t hide from me forever. If you really knew who I am, you’d answer me!
Slowly, ominous laughter began to echo, softly at first. It continued growing louder and louder, until Stephen’s head began to hurt with the noise.
Stop it. It continued. I said, stop it!
The laughter stopped. Stephen knew he had hurt whoever was lurking nearby.
A voice rang through the darkness. I know who you are! We’ll continue this later.
For the first time, the person had spoken to him, but Stephen was unable to tell who it was. He couldn’t even be certain it was male or female. Instead, it was more like he just knew what the voice wanted to say.
He woke with a jolt in the passenger seat of Vincent’s luxury sedan.
“Are you okay?” Vincent asked.
Stephen looked around. The sunset shone as brightly as ever from behind them. Tall trees passed by on either side as the car clung to the twists and turns in the road.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Through a break in the trees, he could tell they were on a ridge with only more trees, farmland, and scattered houses. “How long was I asleep?”
“Long enough.”
Stephen sat up from his slouched position. “So, are we close?”
“Yes, we’re nearly there.” Vincent kept his eyes on the road ahead. “Who were you talking to?”
“Huh? Oh, in my dream? I’m not sure.” Stephen changed the subject. “Why did you invite me to your mom’s?”
“I noticed that you have been staying away from the shelter. I guessed it has something to do with Waltz, but I did not want you to be alone. Besides, it will give us an opportunity to get to know each other better.” Vincent grinned.
“Well, thank you.” Stephen looked back out the window. “We are sleeping in separate beds, right?”
Vincent rolled his eyes. Stephen had seen how uncomfortable Vincent was with jovial banter but figured he’d keep working on him.
Through the woods a large lake began to appear as they continued down a gravel road. It reminded Stephen of his travels while he’d been away. He often stayed at a campground to get away from the noise of other people’s thoughts and emotions.
“How long is this road?”
“Well, this driveway is pretty long. Fortunately, we are here.”
As they rounded a row of spruce trees, a large Victorian home appeared. Primarily stone, it seemed more like a castle to Stephen than a house. The landscaping wasn’t pristine but only slightly overgrown. Parts of the house had ivy growing up the lower walls but didn’t extend to the second or third floors.
They continued around back, where a woman with long, unkempt black and wearing a yellow nightgown came down the steps to greet them as they parked. She wore no makeup and didn’t seem overly concerned about her appearance. She didn’t have on shoes.
“Stephen, I forgot to tell you something about my mother. She is a little crazy. She nearly lost her mind several years back and has been on the mend ever since.”
Stephen only nodded. He couldn’t help but feel compassion for her, having seen for himself inside the minds of some that had gone crazy. He had even caused it a time or two. It was never pretty. Thoughts ran rampant amid emotions that overwhelmed. But Stephen understood. It was similar to how he felt when he’d first returned to Waltz, before he’d learned to control the memories and emotions, to sift through and sort out the ones that didn’t belong.
As the two approached
Vincent’s mother, she seemed familiar to Stephen, somehow. Perhaps it was simply that he had come so close to being like her, or that the guilt he felt for driving others insane weighed deeply. Regardless, he was empathetic and felt compassion for her. He remembered very little of his own mom, and only imagined what it must be like for Vincent to see her suffer.
“Mother, how are you?” Vincent set his bag down and gave his mother a big hug. It was the first gesture of grand emotion Stephen had witnessed of Vincent.
“Good, good. How’s my boy?” She seemed fully of energy.
“Fine, Mother.” Vincent motioned to Stephen. “This is my friend I told you about—Stephen.”
Vincent’s mother turned to greet Stephen and froze for a moment. He noticed a look of confusion on her face. Just as quickly, the expression left.
“Stephen, very nice to meet you.” Stephen reached forward to shake her hand. “No, No. Give us a hug.” She threw her arms around Stephen. Overwhelmed with compassion, he returned the hug, sensing something terribly wrong inside her.
“Stephen, my mother, Marie,” Vincent said.
Marie started up the stairs back toward the house. “Well, come now. Don’t be slow. Bring your things.”
The two grabbed their bags and followed behind her.
Stephen followed Vincent into a larger living area. A grand open fireplace sat positioned in the middle, with a living room to one side and an activity room to the other.
“This is a beautiful home.” Stephen ran his hand along the stone accents on the wall. “Just gorgeous. You grew up here?” he asked Vincent.
“I did. I had the finest tutors but seldom left the grounds. I remember going out when I was much younger. After Dad left, we didn’t go out much anymore—not until I became an adult.”
“If you didn’t go out much, how did you get what you needed—groceries, packages, clothes, and stuff?”
“Vincent! It is very good to see you home, sir!”
Stephen turned to see a butler standing in the doorway they had just come through. “Ah, help. Of course! How silly of me.”
Vincent grinned sheepishly. “Phillip, it is very good to see you too. This is my friend Stephen. He will be staying with us for the weekend. Will you please have his things taken to his room?”
“Gladly, sir. Which room will Stephen be staying in?”
Vincent looked at Stephen for a moment. “Put him in the ‘Big Blue’ room. He will be comfortable there.”
“Right away, sir.” Phillip disappeared back through the door through which he had just entered.
“Where’d your mom go?”
“She went straight toward the kitchen, probably to see how Anna is coming along with dinner.”
“Anna?”
“Yes, Anna, the chef.”
“Oh, of course, the chef,” Stephen kidded.
Stephen continued walking around, looking on in amazement. Through the grand archway he saw a lovely wooden staircase located just inside the front entrance. “Do you mind if I have a look?” Stephen motioned toward the staircase.
“Not at all.”
As Stephen entered the foyer, he noticed a large crystal chandelier hanging above him from a ceiling that opened up to the second floor. The staircase ended in a balcony that encircled the chandelier.
Just beside the staircase stood a table with a few picture frames displayed on it. Stephen walked over and picked up one of the photos. “Look at this. It’s little Vincent Abbott.”
“Yes, I was a bit chubby then.”
“Nah. Most every kid has a little baby fat that lingers.” He picked up the next frame. “Your mom?”
“Yes, several years ago before she had her meltdown.”
“She’s gorgeous!”
Stephen held the frame closer. He knew he had recognized her. His eyes widened, taking in the gravity of his present situation, as he fumbled with the frame.
“Uh, Stephen. You are staring a little too long at Mom.”
“I-I know her. Or, rather, I met her.”
“What?”
“It was years ago. I . . . uh . . . before, when . . . when she was like this.” Stephen handed the picture to Vincent.
“That’s not possible.”
“It is. She was in Saint Louis.”
“I remember she used to go to Saint Louis when I was younger. She stopped when Father left us. However, she did come see me there about five years ago, not long after I began practicing law on my own.” Vincent placed his hand on Stephen’s shoulder. “She was starting to get out more, trying to enjoy life again.”
Stephen looked at Vincent, trying to hide the pain he felt.
“How did you meet?” Vincent paused. His expression changed as he appeared in thought for a moment. “She started losing her mind right after her visit. Did you see her then? Did something happen?”
“It’s more complicated than that, much more complicated. I bumped into her, literally. Besides, it’s in the past now.”
“There you are, boys. Vincent, I do hope you’ve been a hospitable guest.” Marie walked over to them and looked down at the picture in Vincent’s hand. “How gorgeous. What a lovely young lady. Vincent, are you seeing this young lady? You must bring her over.”
“No, Mother. This is you when you were younger.”
“Oh, right. I certainly was lovely.” She continued walking toward the next room. “Dinner will be ready soon. Please see Stephen to his room so he may freshen up.” She disappeared again.
Vincent continued, “I apologize, Stephen. My mom can be a handful at times. Are you certain you are still okay staying with us?”
“I’m certain.” The two started up the stairs. “Vincent, there is more to the story, much more. Waltz told me to trust you above everyone else. I’m willing to do that. But I think your mom is right. Let me relax a moment, freshen up, and we’ll talk.”
“Agreed. It was a long drive. You must be exhausted from all that sleeping.” Vincent grinned. Stephen followed him to the room he would be staying in, meeting Phillip on the way.
“I was just coming for you, sir.”
“I’ll show him the way, Phillip.”
“Yes, sir.” Phillip continued on.
In a moment, they arrived at a door. “Here you go.”
“Big Blue?” asked Stephen.
Vincent nodded.
Stephen opened the door. As he walked in, he looked around, laughing. The second before he had been so tense, worried about how to explain everything to Vincent, including the full truth of what had happened between him and Marie. Now, he laughed uncontrollably. Perhaps the stress was getting to him. Still, he felt better for a moment.
“Patty told you about the pajamas.” He could barely get the words out. He took a deep breath to calm himself as he walked further into the room. On one wall hung a large quilt displaying Superman flying through the air with the American flag as the backdrop and the words, “He wages a never-ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way.” Stephen read it aloud. The comforter set, curtains, lampshades—all of it portrayed Superman. The walls had been painted blue. The furniture was blue and red with gold accents.
Vincent laughed. Stephen turned with a start. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you truly laugh.” It was a very loud, easily distinguishable laugh. After a moment, Stephen asked, “What is the deal with this room? It’s great!”
“It was mine when I was younger. I loved it so much that when I got older, I asked for another room and kept this just as it was.”
“It’s incredible.”
“It is. And, we have something in common.” Vincent motioned to Stephen’s things on the bed. “I will leave you to freshen up. We can talk in a while.” With that, Vincent left.
The relief brought by the Superman-themed room was short-lived, as Stephen’s thoughts shifted back to Marie and the torment she’d lived in ever since their encounter five years ago.
How do I explain that her situation is my fault?
Stephen listened for thoughts in the house, trying to take his mind away from the conversation that would soon take place. He could hear all but Vincent and Marie. Her mind appeared guarded but not in the same way as Vincent’s. His remained locked behind an impenetrable wall. Hers, however, appeared to be just beyond reach, as though his power extended only so far before failing to find her.
Stephen lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, his eyes trained on the propeller-powered Superman circling overhead. Slowly, he drifted off.
Chapter 14
Stephen stood alone and surrounded by black once again.
Hello? I know you’re there. I can feel you. What do you want?
No response, nothing. There was something there that Stephen didn’t want to accept; something familiar, yet foreign—fear. He had felt the fear of others time and time again, but not his own fear. There wasn’t much Stephen feared. Why was he feeling it now?
“Stephen?” Vincent’s voice rang through the darkness.
Stephen sat up and looked around, half-expecting to find a foe.
“Sorry I startled you. Dinner is ready.” Vincent stood in the doorway.
“I-I must have dozed off for a moment. I’ll be right down.”
“You must have.” Vincent looked at Stephen’s bag, still packed. “You must have been tired.”
Stephen looked at the bag. “Yeah, I don’t even remember lying down.”
“We will be waiting. At the bottom of the stairs, take a right. You will see us.” Vincent closed the door as he walked out.
Stephen leaned forward, placing his face in his hands and massaging his temples with his fingers for a moment. “Well, let’s get this over with.”
Stephen found the dining room with no trouble. The places had been set. The table was grand. Only one end of the table was set for Marie, Vincent, and Stephen. He looked around. “What about the others?”
“Stephen, so glad you could join us. My boy, Vincent, just got home. Have you met Vincent?”
“Uh, yes, ma’am.” Stephen looked at Vincent, not sure what else to say.
“Please, come sit. The food has just been served.” Vincent motioned to the empty seat across the table. “The staff eat elsewhere.”
Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet Page 16
