Forgotten (24 page)

In the top photo, Simon’s eyes adored me
just as they had in real life. Sharp, swift pain stabbed my chest
and I struggled for breath.

“Claudia….” Saul reached out to me, but I
gently nudged his hand away. I scanned the pile and found what I
was after. I then gathered the remaining photos and returned them
to where they belonged, deep in the box and even deeper into my
mind.

As I pulled myself together, I slipped seven
photos into Saul’s hand. Six of them were photographs of me at
varying ages from birth to seven years old. But it was the seventh
one that was the most intriguing. It was identical to the one I had
already shown Saul before.

The one of the house with me sitting at the
foot of the lion.

Saul alternated his gaze between the photo
and me. “If Alice was the only one who had photos of you during
your first seven years, where did these come from?”

Precisely
what I’d thought. “These photos were a part of a surprise wedding
gift from Simon,” I explained. “He was putting together an album of
our life journey together. From what I can gather, he had gotten
many of the photos from my family. When I discovered these
particular ones….” I pointed to the early photos of me in Saul’s
hand. “Well, after Simon was….” I balked. My heartbeat balked with
me but I pressed on. “Well, afterwards, I was as surprised as you
were. I knew my family didn’t have any. So where did Simon get
these? Especially the one of the house.”

“What are you thinking?”

“
I’m not
sure, but what if someone in my family did have photos after all,
and in light of what we now know about the birthday cards, it
could’ve only been someone who, for whatever reasons, kept contact
with Alice.”

Saul fell silent, rubbing the side of his
forehead. “Makes sense. But then one has to wonder how Simon found
out about this person.”

Of course. And that’s where my slapdash
theory smacked bang into the proverbial brick wall. “I don’t know
if any of this is even significant, but I get to thinking why did
Alice choose, after all these years, to finally come out into the
open? After all this cloak and dagger stuff, what was so important?
And the house? I’m beginning to remember it. Those lions, for
example, I remember playing around them, playing hide and seek, I
think. And that fountain, I remember the jets of water spouting
really high. I also get a strong sense that this is where I
lived.”

Saul studied the photo in silence.

“You think this could be the place in my
dream?”

“Very likely.”

I fell back
against the bed and took a long, deep breath. Saul had begun
fingering the photographs on the floor. He selected a few, spending
a short time absorbed by them. He appeared detached, contemplative.
When he turned to me, I spotted the clear discomfort on his
face.

I tapped him
on the shoulder and said half-heartedly, “Whatever it is, it can’t
be that bad and if it is, I’ll be okay. That was our agreement,
remember?”

“It’s not pleasant,” he warned.

What was these days?

He collected
one of the photos and placed it in my hand.
“That man there is Danny Souza.” The change in his voice
bothered me. It was lower, more solemn. “I could ask if the name is
familiar to you but I seriously doubt it.”

He was
right. I had never heard of him. Saul placed another photo on top
of the previous one. It included two men; grins stretched wide,
arms wrapped loosely around each other’s shoulder. “The one on the
right is Johnny Hercolani, the other Ricky Taccone.”

Again, I
hadn’t heard of them.

Saul
repeated the same procedure with another photo. “That man there is
none other than our Senator Macey, except his name then was
Macanetti. He shortened it when he joined politics.”

Macey? Macanetti? What the….

“This one,” Saul said, tapping on yet
another figure, “is Iacovelli.”

All Italian names.

My muscles tensed. My breathing became
shallow.

“There were six altogether,” Saul
muttered.

Six? Was this the supposed gun club?

Saul paused.

Why the
pause?
That was only five.

I searched
for the elusive sixth individual amongst the remainder of the
photographs, but they failed to produce any such person. I began to
rummage through them with more ferocity, desperately struggling
against the sickening idea now taking shape in my
head. “The sixth one…,” I whispered.

“
Claudia….”
I heard it in Saul’s voice. No doubt, I’d see it in his face if I
had the gumption to look.

He
knew who it was. And unfortunately, now, so did
I.

Friend of a friend,
he had said
when explaining Alice Polinski.

My father.

Shit.

I shot up and began pacing. So many thoughts
swarmed my brain. It was difficult to focus on any one thing. Saul
was beside me, silent, but there. I tried to process.

But process what exactly?

That my
father had lied to me yet again? That he not only knew Iacovelli,
but also was involved with some overzealous gun buffs? None of it
seemed real, as did a larger, more startling prospect.

Unless it’s someone who doesn’t want her
hurt, someone who wants to protect her.

I stopped
pacing and swung around to Saul. “Please, tell me my father didn’t
kill Alice and Iacovelli.”

Saul looked into my eyes, strong and
unblinking. “I can’t tell you that Claudia, because I don’t know
for certain.”

I groaned
and promptly made my way to the bed. I eyed off the stack of
pillows blaring unconditional comfort. It was so tempting to crawl
beneath them, to lie there for an eternity. I slumped myself on the
edge of the bed, and threw my head in my hands. I
was
going
to deal with this. I had said so.

Eventually
Saul joined me. He wriggled something in my face. When I focused, I
realized it was a pink musk stick. I laughed, fragile sounding as
it was. I took the stick and nibbled. It was perfect as always.
“Don’t know how you put up with me the way you do.”

“What?”

“
Most of the
time, I’m nothing more than an emotional rollercoaster, leaving
bits of me wherever I land.”

Saul laughed and sidled up nearer, almost
shoulder-to-shoulder. The mere closeness of him, that damn earthy
scent of his and his chocolate-coated voice caused something warmly
pleasant to take light in me.

“Don’t be so tough on yourself,” he said.
“Look at the way you handled yesterday with your father and then
today with Weatherly.”

I thought of
Weatherly. I tried not to think of my father. “It’s only because of
you,” I reminded him.

“No, I may have kick started it, but you
took over and did the rest. You always had the ability. You just
needed a little shove in the right direction.”

I looked at him. “Is this what you do? Shove
people in the right direction?”

He tilted his head. “I help people solve
their problems.”

“
No, it’s
more than that, isn’t it.” It was all becoming clearer now. The
reason for Saul’s bid to find the answers together. It was how he
helped people to combat their own weaknesses. It was what he was
doing with me. “So you think I need to stand up for myself
more.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“Don’t give me the whole answering a
question with a question thing. I want to know what you think.”

He waited a
while before replying. “With some people, yes.”

I sat quiet.

“
Look,
Claudia, you’re smart, and I’m sure you’re aware of much of this
already. You also must know you have the capabilities to make your
own decisions, to look after yourself quite competently. You just
need the confidence and the opportunities to do so...
and to lose the
guilt
.”

Easier said
and
all that jazz.

His eye
caught something on my bedside table. It was a rag doll. It had
long hair and large eyes the same color as mine and it wore the
cutest green and white dress.

“Interesting,” he said.

I gazed at the doll and then back at Saul.
“What is?”

“The fact that you’ve singled it out.”

I had?

“
By putting
it there. You haven’
t done that with
anything else.”

“
I don’t
know. I guess there’s something special about it.”

“Can’t remember what?”

I shook my head. The whole memory thing was,
at times, very annoying. “I only know its name is Dolly.” I then
changed the subject. “You really meant what you said before. About
me being able to do all that.”

His smile was my answer. Watching the way
his lips curled at the corners, I wondered what it’d feel like to
touch them, just for a moment. The thought made my heart race. Then
a part of me felt horribly ashamed, even deceitful, that I was even
thinking such thoughts. Wasn’t Simon still a part of me?

Fortunately, my mobile signaled a message,
hauling me back to reality. I flicked open my phone and felt
immediately relieved. “It’s Milo. He wants to meet with me.”

“Where?”

“My place.”

“
Not a good
choice. Can’t he meet you someplace else, even here?”

I texted the suggestion to Milo. I certainly
wasn’t in any hurry to return home. Seconds later, a reply bleated.
I curved my shoulders. “No, he seems adamant. He says it’s really
important.” I sighed. “He’s always so difficult. I have to go. I
keep getting this feeling.”

“You’re not going alone.” Saul hastily
grabbed the photo of the house with the lions. “Just let me send
this off to a few people first and we’ll go together.”

1989

“
ARE WE READY
?” one of
the men questioned,
as he
returned his shiny handgun to its velvet-lined case. His voice was
especially gruff, his manner obnoxiously officious.

Others surrounded him, clutching similar
boxes, housing similar possessions. Each man expressed his
readiness either verbally or with a slight nod of his head.

“
Then let’s get moving,” the gruff man
ordered. He carefully secured his box into a khaki rucksack and
heaved the entire bag onto his broad back.

The afternoon sun, hidden behind a screen of
darkening clouds, did little to pacify the winter chill. Perched on
top of a nearby concrete fence, various children watched the
detailed preparations.

“
Do you think it will rain?” asked the taller
man.

The gruff man’s laugh was full and hardy.
“So what if it does? A little water isn’t going to kill us, is
it?”

The taller man appeared hesitant. “Might
reduce the visibility, that’s all.”

“
What, you getting chicken in your old
age?” scoffed one of the others.

The taller man narrowed his eyes, sent
unfriendly shots in the other’s direction.

“
Papa,” the little girl said, running to
the tall man. “Where are you going?”

The tall man knelt on one knee and caught
her. Then he held both of her blue-gloved hands in his large ones.
“I am just going into the forest for a few days, Carino.”

Her voice quivered, her mouth curled
downwards. “Why do you always go there?”

Her father hung his head low. To relive our
own private hell, he thought.

“
To do what we do best,” crooned one of
the others. Loud, animated exclamations followed.

The girl frowned. That wasn’t what Alice had told her.
“This is something your Papa needs to do, little one,” Alice had
explained, “to help him get better.” But the girl still didn’t
understand.

“
Can I come too?”

“
Where we go is not a place for
children,” he whispered in sad but kind tones. Their journey, he
well knew, included more than simply the physical.

“
But, Papa, I want to be with you. I
promise I’ll be very grown up.”

Laughter erupted from behind him. “Yes, so
grown up,” mocked one. “Maybe you should teach your ‘grown up’
daughter about the realities of what we do.”

“
Yeah… maybe you should teach her how to use one of these
little babies,” voiced another, tapping the inside of his own
rucksack. “That would be
very
grown
up.”

A different man with thick, fair hair spoke
for the first time. “Leave him alone.”

The girl’s face lit up with fresh hope.
“Yes, Papa, please teach me. I can learn anything. I’m so smart. My
teacher, Sister Paul says so. And then I could go with you.”

Such innocence, such unconditional faith in
her Papa. The father lowered his eyes. Shame spread through him,
fast and thick.

“
You should,” the gruff man sniggered.
“I’m already teaching my young ones.”

The father swung to him, feeling a sudden
repugnance burn his insides. “You have what?”

The gruff man’s smile was wicked, sarcastic.
“If it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for them. Besides,
what can it hurt? It may even save their lives one day.”

“
They are innocent children. Why would
you bring them into a life like ours?”

The fair-haired man agreed with the father,
objecting just as strongly. The other three remained silent.

The gruff man swore, and then swung sharply in the
direction of the gates. “You can all stay and discuss the merits of
this boring subject, but I’m off to do what I’m here for.” He began
to march off. One by one, the others streamed after him.