Betrayal (40 page)

Winston looked only a couple years older than Gerald. Even though Gerald was a couple inches taller than Winston, the brothers resembled each other so much that they could possibly pass for twins. They both towered a few inches over six feet. But unlike his younger brother's honest eyes, his were bleak with no spark, and without depth. I remembered why Winston was dead. He had been a laudanum junkie, and after a couple of years of abusing the serum, he died tragically of an overdose.

“Cordelia.” Gerald’s voice was crisp yet boyish, sounding much softer than Winston’s. “I’m the only one here and I didn't hear anyone knock at the door.”

“Oh… ” I didn't know what to say as Gerald wondered how I was standing in his doorway with the door wide open. I eyed Winston who was stifling a wicked chuckle, obviously amused by his brother’s lack of understanding of the tricks of the dead. “I knocked a couple of times. When no one answered, I tried the doorknob, and found the door open.” I lied, as my voice quivered a bit from the icy air that Gerald didn’t seem to notice. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to intrude.” I added looking over at Winston, who lost it and threw his head back and laughed out load. I couldn’t help but stare at him.

Gerald followed my eyes to where his brother was standing, and saw nothing but the oaken door, and then looked back at me oddly.

“Strange.” Gerald mused, while he stood appraising me for a long moment. “How rude of me, please come in, Cordelia. May I take your parasol?” Gerald said, realizing that this was poor behavior for a host. Luckily, he seemed too distracted by my presence to care much about doors being left open.

“Yes, thank you.” I handed Gerald my parasol, and we locked eyes for a short, awkward, yet bizarrely familiar moment. Gerald and I stood about a foot apart and I could actually remember the smoothness of his cheek – the warmth of it. It was a tender feeling, and it was dear to my heart; a genuine memory. Gerald finally broke the stare.

“Although it is a rather warm day, Rutherford has driven my grandmother into town, therefore I’m home alone. You do recall how grandmother enjoys her trips into town, at least once a week, to watch the less fortunate mill around.” A nervous chortle escaped his lips. I nodded a ‘yes’ but didn’t remember Gerald’s grandmother at all.

“Please, shall we go into the parlor? There is tea waiting.” Gerald ushered me into the spacious room. It was a lovely room, full of pretty much the same Victorian style furnishing, and a variety of gilt framed paintings and photographs. I was as if the Bergnum’s and the Capius’ shared the same interior decorator – one with a flair for velvet, doilies, and ferns.

I stopped at a table which was displayed with numerous gilt framed photographs, which I guessed to be Gerald's family tree. I spotted a photo of him where he appeared to be close to the age he was now. The picture was of course in black and white but you could still see the warm color in his cheeks and the softness of his eyes. He was extremely handsome in a very boyish way. I also spotted a photo of Winston. In the photo he looked to be in his early teens. He wasn’t smiling, and his eyes seemed distracted, but he looked pleasant enough, handsome but rougher around the edges. It must have been the prelaudanum and prefloozy chasing years.

“You'll notice that not very much has changed.” Gerald said, motioning for me to take a seat on the large crimson, patterned, velvet sofa. I could hear Winston's feet shuffling behind us. I refused to look at him. I didn't want to be distracted. He was freaking me out at this point, and I couldn’t let Gerald think that something was wrong.

I sat down on one of the sofas while Gerald poured freshly brewed tea. Normally the idea of sipping steaming hot tea in this weather, with only the comfort of my fancy hand fan and no air conditioning, would have been insufferable, but it was the perfect choice with the frigid air that seemed to only exist in this house.

Finally, Gerald sat down on the sofa, just a few inches from where I was sitting. Winston stood tall and lean in a gray suit in front of the large bay windows as if he was spying on the house directly across the street – my house. I eagerly sipped the tasteless tea hoping that it would assist in calming my nerves. The tea scorched the tip of my tongue. I stifled the urge to swear, and tried to disguise my pain with a dab of my handkerchief to the corners of my mouth, all while Gerald observed me on the sly, blowing into his teacup. Ah, yes, the pain subsided, thankfully.

“Are you cold?” Gerald asked, eyeing me closely with his head cocked to one side, as I rubbed my upper arms with my hands. Gerald couldn't feel the arctic chill of his deceased brother's presence. Then it hit me. It made perfect sense. It had been him. It was the back of Winston’s pale blond head that I had glimpsed heading out of my sitting room and out onto my balcony, my first night at the Capius’ mansion. I remembered how the room’s temperature had plummeted while I read through my journals. The arctic blast was the same now.

“No. I'm fine.”

“Really? It is rather chilly in this room right now, but the chill seems to come and go in this drafty house. It hasn’t always been this way. We can move into another room if you like, but I’m afraid the draft moves along with me sometimes. I can’t seem to escape it at times.”

“No, I mean yes, I’m fine, and the chill doesn’t bother me that much.”

“My grandmother, who wasn’t always the superstitious type, actually believes it’s a ghost, my father or perhaps, my older brother.” Gerald chuckled. “I believe it’s her old age, and possibly the fear of dying.” Gerald should listen to his grandmother more, I thought. Her inkling was dead on, no pun intended.

“Gerald doesn't know where you’ve really been. Dare you tell him?” Winston challenged, while he still held his pose by the window. “He actually believes that you have been living in Paris. I pity my gullible baby brother, but, then again, how could he know?” I was shocked by Winston's interjection concerning my make believe trip to France. I was more so astounded by how much he knew about me. It’s startling to say the least. What else does he know? I turned around to face him, but his eyes were still fixed on my house.

“My brother doesn't know that you have absolutely no recollection of him, although he has not for one single moment, of every day since you have been away, stopped pining for you.” Winston sneered.

I turned my gaze back to Gerald. He stared at the spot where Winston stood. I almost thought for a second that he had heard his dead brother’s comments. But he hadn’t, thankfully.

“Since your house has been put up for sale, does this mean your parents don’t plan to return to Nickel City? Will you be staying with the Capius family permanently?” Gerald asked, as Winston grunted obscenely.

Sale? Why was my house up for sale?

Even though my parents were dead, I couldn’t imagine why my house had been put up for sale, if I was expected to return. It didn’t make any sense. I didn’t want to appear unaware of this new information, so I decided to answer his second question instead. At this point I didn't know what I’d find out about myself by visiting Gerald. It would take forever to find anything out with the conversation continuing down this route.

“My parents love France. They plan to visit as much as they can. Father has a lot of work there. I'm with the Capius' for now. They are my family. I like it there. I have my own room.” What the heck was that all about? Why was I rambling?

“I see.” Gerald said, looking uneasy. His face fell when I mentioned that I would be staying with the Capius’. He looked crushed. It was totally understandable. Evan was the competition, and I just announced that the competition and I were living under the same roof. This wasn’t going well.

Then Gerald decided to change the subject.

“Tell me about your stay in Paris? I had kind of hoped to hear from you… at some point or another,” he said, taking a sip from his teacup. I noticed that Gerald’s hands were trembling. His tan face was turning a reddish rose, and he wasn’t making any eye contact with me as he spoke. He wasn’t wasting any time with laying on the guilt trip.

“I enjoyed my time there, but it wasn’t anything special. I’m sorry that I didn’t keep in touch. I lost track of time, I guess. How were things here while I was away?” I asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation, and hoping he wouldn't require more details about my fake trip. I didn’t want to have to keep lying. But Gerald wasn’t going to be steered away that easily.

“I'm sorry to hear that your stay wasn’t special. I would have expected it to be worth your while being that you disappeared that night without as much as a goodbye. I would think that it was something quite special that took you there and kept you there without any correspondence or so much as a word for two entire years.” Gerald’s tone was somewhat icy, and chilled me to the core, more so than his brother’s morbid presence.

I couldn't think of anything to say. Everything wasn’t as it seemed. Gerald thought I hadn’t kept in touch on purpose. If I could only tell him the truth, that I was brainwashed, sent into the future to live for the last two years, and have returned now feeling like an amnesiac. If only I could explain, and then maybe he would understand and not hate me right now.

I wanted to tell Gerald where I’d really been, but how could I? He’s wasn’t an Ischero, and there were laws to follow, excluding mortals from knowing the real identities of the Ischero, and he would never understand something as bizarre as being a demigod with supernatural powers. I also couldn’t tell him anything because of the simple fact that I wasn’t certain what I’d been told was a certainty.

I had to come to terms with the simple fact that I didn’t have a single friend. I was alone in this world, and I’ve never felt so deserted. I wasn’t sure of anything, so I said the only thing that I could think of to say under the circumstances.

“I’m sorry.” I said, and carefully lowered my tea cup to the table, and sat it back on its saucer. Gerald was quiet. I took a quick glance at him. Gerald just stared at the sparkling marble floor.

“One day, soon, you’ll have to tell him the truth. One day, you’ll have to decide what it is that you really want.” Winston said, with a significant edge in his voice. I shivered from the last burst of cold air that filled the room as Winston disappeared through the wall. The room’s temperature instantly rose with Winston’s absence.

“Maybe I should leave.” I said, slowly rising from the sofa. It was obvious that Gerald was hurting, and wanted me to rectify his pain. I didn’t know Gerald, and I didn’t know how to do that, but I did know that he was once a good friend, and an important part of my life. My being here right now seemed to be causing him more pain. I no longer believed that he would be helpful in jolting my memory; to no fault of his own. I had snuck out of the house again, breaking Thaddeus’ strict rules again, so that I could meet up with Gerald. I believed that now to be a big mistake. Tears began to well up in my eyes, and I felt an immediate need to escape Gerald’s house. I got up, and walked passed him, and headed for the foyer. I wanted to use my inaccessible powers to disappear right now. How perfect it would be to disappear this very second, so that Gerald wouldn't see my tears of frustration and hopelessness. But disappearing would be revealing something he couldn’t handle.

“Cordelia, don't go. I'm truly sorry. I was harsh. I apologize for my rude behavior. I’m sure that your leaving to go to France wasn’t up to you. I know that it was out of your control.” Gerald pleaded.

His words halted me at the draped archway. Taking my shoulders in his hands, he turned me around to face him. His doe like bark hued eyes were transparent to the depths of his soul. There was no doubt that Gerald was in love with me. I could somehow here his heart racing, or was that my own?

He lowered his head to kiss me, but my instincts took over and I pulled away. His expression was doleful. He had looked this way before. All of a sudden I felt a wave of heat, and then I saw a vision of myself in Gerald's arms. We were in a barn, lying on the coarse hay.

“I love you for more reasons than I can express.” Gerald said, boring his eyes, and soul into mine. I didn't answer, and instead kissed him in a devouring way.

“Do you love me, Cordelia? If you do then we can leave Nickel City, make a life for ourselves, where no one can interfere. Tell me that you love me.”

Gerald pleaded pulling me in closer, practically mashing himself into me.

I stroked his face gently at first, and then stopped abruptly.

“We can't.” I said, pushing him off of me, and struggling to get up from the pillow of hay. A horse whinnied somewhere in the back of the barn.

Gerald's face looked miserable. I ran out of the barn before he could grab a hold of me. The last thing I saw and felt was the hot sun on my face and the shock of pain in my eyes from being exposed to the searing light of the sun, as I tried to shield my eyes as I left the dark barn. Now I was back in Gerald’s house, in his parlor again, lying on the sofa, feeling fairly dazed. I must have passed out. Why else would I be sprawled out on the sofa like this?

I sat up and felt a tad light headed. The vision had knocked the wind out of me. To my chagrin, Gerald was by my side, peering at me peculiarly. He offered me a glass of water which he instructed me to drink. My mouth was surprisingly dry, so the tepid water was actually refreshing. I thought about the vision for a moment, how I felt for him and it was clear. I was never in love with Gerald. He had been my temporary escape from my complicated life as an Ischero, and an unfortunate mistake. I felt terrible for using him that way. I had been heartless.

“Do you feel alright?”

“Yes.” I answered.

Gerald tried to make some sense of what had just happened. “One second you were heading out the door, and the next second, you fainted. What happened?”

“I… I’m not sure… what happened,” I answered. “It must be the heat,” I lied.

He nodded, and asked, “Will you excuse me for a moment?”

“Uh... yes, of course.” I answered nervously. The frigid blast was back, and I wasn't sure I wanted to be left alone in the room.