Finding Parker (25 page)

“No, I’ll leave the car in the extended parking,” he responded.

“Please, let me take you. There’s no need…”

Downes interrupted before I finished speaking, “No, I’ll drive myself. I have no idea of when I’ll return.”

“Very well,” I lowered my head and stared down at the stone drive.

“Please, take some time for you and Victoria while we’re away. Kenton insisted,” he placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“I didn’t even see you come down,” I grinned as I looked up.

I thought about what he said. Victoria and I could kill some time while they were away, and possibly have fun somewhere nice. We had yet to take a honeymoon, and had spent all of our time moving her into my condo.

“Maybe so. We’ll see. I’ll let her know when I get home that you’re gone and see what she says. So you need any help?” I asked.

As he knelt beside me, his hand still resting on my shoulder, he responded, “No. Go be with your bride. I’ll load the bags. Just…”

As I stood from the step, he opened his arms and hugged me, “Just take care of her, Parker.”

Parker, he called me Parker.

“Now and always,” I smiled.

As my car rounded the fountain and headed for the gate, I felt empty and somewhat scared. As I waited for the gate to open, allowing me to exit, I looked in the rearview mirror. The estate looked back at me in the form of a reflection.

And it appeared extremely small.

PARKER.
Victoria and I had been on the road for almost three weeks. Although we had received an occasional email from either Downes or Kenton, it was almost as if it really didn’t matter – at least not now. Our time spent on vacation had been filled with events and sights which consumed us. Neither of us had previously spent much time outside of California. Personally, my feet had only been planted in two states, Ohio and California. Victoria’s in California alone.

Until now.

After a drive along the Pacific Coastal Highway and through northern California, we ventured to Las Vegas. After a week of sightseeing and shopping and we were exhausted of the lights, noise, repeated buzzing, bells, and screaming from the gamblers. A short drive from Las Vegas, and we arrived at the Grand Canyon; where we found comfort, relaxation, and a sense of well-being neither of us had ever known.

“We’ve been here for a week,” Victoria grinned from her perch above the south rim of the canyon, standing on a large stone.

“I could stay for another,” I sighed.

“It’s just…”

She turned to face me, “It’s just so breathtaking – every part of it. And like I told you the other day, it makes everything else in life seem so insignificant and small.”

“I agree. Some people ask for proof of God’s existence. One look at this,” I motioned out over the canyon, “and they’ll need nothing else.”

“Precisely,” Victoria agreed.

Her blonde hair blew in the light breeze as she stood and stared into the canyon. Today, for whatever reason, her eyes seemed a little greener and much less brown. Although her appearance was always one of beauty, she seemed much more beautiful today – standing in the sun – than she ever had previously. Slowly, I walked toward her as she absorbed the magic the canyon offered. As I reached to brush her hair behind her ear and expose her face, she tilted her head to the side, allowing it to fall.

I wrapped my hand softly around the base of her neck and leaned into her, kissing her deeply. As we continued to kiss, as with every time in the past, I filled with a sense of contentment – a sense of knowing. Knowing Victoria and I would remain together until, as Kenton had previously stated, the bitter end.

As our lips parted, she grinned, “I love kissing you, Parker.”

“I love,” I hesitated, released her neck, and smiled, “you.”

She smiled and stepped down from the stone which she was standing on and scanned the horizon. As she placed her hands on her hips, she inhaled a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled. As she opened her eyes, her lips parted slightly and took another shallow breath.

“I want to come back. Often,” she said as she gazed toward the canyon.

I nodded my head as I stared into the canyon, “I agree.”

“It’s easy to become just a little more spiritually in tune with things here. It’s,” she paused and raised her hand to her mouth.

“Therapeutic,” she smiled.

While she continued to stare out into the canyon, I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. Surprised and somewhat apprehensive, I removed my phone and cleared the screen. To my pleasure, I had received a text message from Downes. Grateful to have received a text and not another email, I grinned. This would mean they were in the United States or at least close to it. Anxiously, I opened the message.

Parker,

I need you to come to the mansion immediately. Please, at least for now, I request you    keep this to yourself and come alone.

Downes

I blinked my eyes and stared at the screen, attempting to develop an understanding of what might be going on. I glanced toward Victoria, who was kneeling and drawing with a stick in the sand, unaware of my having received the message. Carefully, I slid the phone into my pocket and began to walk her direction.

“There’s been a break in at the mansion. Downes has asked that I check for what may be missing. We need to go,” I fibbed.

She dropped her stick into the sand and stood, “Did he call the police?”

“Kenton doesn’t like involving the police unless absolutely necessary. They’ve asked that I check for them. They’re on the way home,” I said nervously.

She raised her hand to her mouth, “It could be dangerous.”

“Not now. Whoever it was will be long gone. It’ll take us ten hours to get home. No worries, baby. Just a quick home inspection,” I held my hand to my side.

As she gripped her hand in mine, we turned and began walking toward the car. As I opened the car door for Victoria and watched her get in, I attempted to convince myself I wasn’t
lying
to her. Ultimately, I was
protecting
her. Protecting her from whatever it was Downes didn’t want her to see.

And I didn’t want to know.

PARKER.
Our ability to accept life’s difficult offerings is a testament of our relationship with God.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I ran up the steps.

Downes was dressed in exercise pants and a tee shirt. He stood, his face grave, and held the door open. As he raised his head and attempted to speak, I realized he looked much different. It was as if he hadn’t slept or eaten in days.

“He…” Downes paused.

“He wants you, Parker.” He swallowed heavily and patted me on the shoulder.

“Where is he? Tell me what’s going on. Is he okay?” I walked through the door nervously, and in no way prepared for a response.

“He’s at the end of the hall, in the guest bedroom,” Downes responded.

“Follow me,” he said.

As I walked into the room and looked up, I immediately wished I hadn’t.

Kenton lie in bed in the center of the room, an I.V. attached to his arm, and a good thirty pounds lighter than when I saw him last. Beside where he lay, a chair sat facing the bed with the stand which held the bag attached to the I.V. beside it. As my mind realized it was in fact Kenton, I groaned.

“Kenton,” I fell to my knees on the floor beside the bed.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, “Sit, son. I have…”

His eyes closed and breathing sounded very labored and wet. As he attempted to speak again, he began to cough deeply.

“So much to…tell you,” he coughed.

I turned to face Downes. Quietly, he nodded his head, turned, and closed the door behind himself as he exited the room. Reluctantly, I faced Kenton again. As I did, I began to blurt out questions, hoping for answers which would support a quick recovery.

“What happened? Did you ingest something in Chile? Are you going to be okay?” I wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

Before Kenton was able to respond, the bedroom door opened. Downes walked in holding a rather large syringe and quickly made his way to the opposite edge of the bed. As he knelt beside Kenton and pulled the blanket away, exposing Kenton’s frail arm, I raised my eyebrows in wonder.

“It’ll allow him to talk to you for a while without much difficulty or pain,” he responded.

“Morphine?” I asked.

“Not exactly,” Downes shook his head.

“It acts like a steroid – a very
strong
steroid. This should give him an hour before he passes out again. Please, pay attention,” he stood and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Again, I turned to face Kenton. This entire event seemed so surreal. Just a matter of weeks ago, Kenton was fine, or at least he seemed like it. I covered my face with my hands and began to quietly cry.

And pray.

“I need to come clean, son,” Kenton’s voice was deep and rumbled from his lungs.

“What happened?” I asked as I wiped my face.

Slowly, Kenton raised his hand and extended his index finger, “Shhh. Let me talk. I have so much to say.”

I nodded.

“Parker, I haven’t been totally truthful,” he said slowly.

I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

“I learned of you years ago,” he said as he pointed to a glass of water sitting on a night stand beside the bed.

I reached for the water glass and sat in the chair beside the bed. As I handed Kenton the cup, I realized he was incapable of holding it. His hand was unable to grasp the cup and hold it firmly. I tilted the cup to his lips and poured a small amount of water into his mouth. As he blinked his eyes, I removed the cup and held it in my shaking hand.

“Learned of me?” I asked, confused.

Again, he held his finger in the air.

“I haven’t got much time,” he breathed, “let me talk.”

I nodded.

“Tallert. He was a professor at your college. He’s Downes father,” he took a shallow breath.

“He told us of you one night about two years ago. When your grandmother died,” he raised his hands and wiped his lips.

I knew I recognized that name from somewhere.

He explained how you were a phenomenon, an anomaly…he said you were a four point zero student in high school, and the same in college. He explained of your gentlemanly behavior. And he explained although,” he took another shallow breath.

“Although he didn’t learn from you directly, he learned from another professor, one you were friends with, that you were a virgin. He spoke of your moral values, and the fact that he wished all modern men were a little more like you.”

“Zenner?” I asked, “Professor Zenner?”

Kenton nodded.

Professor Zenner and I had become close during my time at college. I had confided in him on many occasions after my grandmother passed, and an equal amount before. He seemed quite impressed with my grades, and my ability to understand everything which was taught to me. I was fascinated with his family history, and their involvement in World War II. I stayed many a day after school and shared thoughts with him.

“I did a background study on you and found out about your parents. Your grandfather and your grandmother. And I waited…” he paused.

“For you to graduate. You see, son. I
needed
you.”

I shook my head in wonder.

He raised his finger again and lightly shook his head.

“The story I told you. The woman in the restaurant. Downes and I. In 2005?” he raised his eyebrows slightly.

I nodded my head, recalling the story of the woman with a daughter and no husband. The spiritual awakening which caused Kenton to become the fine man he is today.

“It wasn’t exactly true. That’s when,” he paused and began to cry.

He raised his hand to his face and attempted to wipe the tears from his eyes. As I reached for his face, he shook his head, “I need…this.”

“That’s when I found out I had a daughter. One I never knew of. After obtaining a strand of her hair through a Private Investigator, I confirmed what I had been told. She was my daughter. One I had never known existed,” he tilted his head to the side.

“I can find her. Downes and I can find her,” I sat up in my seat.

“I can bring her here. Where is she?’ I asked frantically.

“It’s…” he paused and raised his hand, pointing toward the south wall.

“It’s Victoria.”

PARKER.
In light shock, and rather confused, I stood from my seat.

“Sit,” Kenton said as he pointed to the chair.

“But. I don’t…”

He raised his index finger, motioning for me to listen.

“Twenty-three years ago, I met her mother in a bar. She was one of many. A bar fly, and what I later learned was a virgin the night I met her. I never knew,” he shook his head and began to cry again.

“We had a one-night stand. And Victoria is the result. I didn’t know until I found out through a friend of a friend who had prescribed her mother’s painkillers. There aren’t many doctors who make house visits these days, and he was one of them. He had diagnosed her chronic pain from a fall at work, and was describing the condition of her hip to me. Although she was young,” he paused and pointed to the cup of water.