Hadrian's Wall (22 page)

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Authors: Felicia Jensen

Tags: #vampires, #orphan, #insanity, #celtic, #hallucinations, #panthers

BOOK: Hadrian's Wall
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“Pardon me?”

“It’s complicated.” I was really nervous
because my claim sounded absurd, even to my own ears. “I had an
accident and lost my memory. There is no record of my time at the
place where I believed I was until very recently. I need to make
sure that my memory, what’s left of it anyway, is not playing
tricks on me. I need to know if the facts are consistent with the
souvenirs I have. Could you please check my file?”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot give such
information over the phone. Why not come here and talk to me in
person?” Her voice was friendly and persuasive.

I noticed that there was a hiss in the
background, which I hadn’t noticed before.

“I cannot. I’m far from the orphanage now,”
I tried to explain.

There was a pause and I swear I could hear
the sound of someone breathing, harsh and impatient.

“And where are you, darling? Maybe I can
help you.”

Something had changed in
that conversation. I couldn’t discern if it was her tone, her
concern, or the alarm bells sounding in my head. I slammed the
phone down without answering her question. My heart felt like it
was about to leap out of my mouth.
What is
happening?

I clicked again on the
search site and found a list of addresses and phone numbers online
classified for cities and states.
Now
what?
I typed in the name “Jones” but I
couldn’t remember Mr. Jones’ first name, so I tried “Linda Jones”
first, but there was no listing. Her husband’s name was “Bill”—the
nickname of “William.” I typed in his full name, but there was no
listing in Berlin, NH.
Well, that doesn’t
mean that the Joneses did not exist
,
only that their names were not listed.
Still, I could only know if I returned to
Berlin.

Suddenly, something
occurred to me—a disturbing comment made by Dr. Talbott. He said
that my name was on the register of the Polish Man Springs
Resort.
Mmmm
...I
found the address and phone number on the Internet. It wasn’t
difficult since the place had its own website.

Adrian was not exaggerating when he said the
mountain was a deluxe tourist resort. I was momentarily distracted
by the beautiful pictures of the rapids and tracks—such a beautiful
place. It was hard to believe it could be haunted.

Well, I didn’t have time to
read about the place now. I picked up the phone and dialed again,
but instead of accessing an outside line, the phone went dead for a
few seconds, before an intermittent sound began. Before I could
figure out what was happening, a voice asked, “Yes?” It was the
operator.
What a fright!

“I...uh...I’m trying to make a call.”

“Our direct line is temporarily disconnected
due to technical problems. If you want to call out, just give me
the number and I will complete your call for you.”

Oh…Okay!

I sighed, exasperated. There was nothing I
could do about it. I gave her the number and waited. It didn’t take
even five seconds and I was with the receptionist of hostel on the
line.

“Polish Man Springs Resort...good
afternoon.”

“Hi, my name is Melissa Baker. I would like
to confirm the record of my stay at the inn about a fortnight
ago.”

Silence. Two voices began to whisper near
the phone.

“We do not give this information by phone,”
she finally said. “You will have to come here, with your documents,
so we can open the guest book.”

“Right...thank you.”

“Sorry I can’t help you. The rules, you
know?” The girl tried to be nice. “What if you were a serial killer
choosing your next victim?” The girl laughed at her own joke, but I
didn’t. I remembered a similar comment made by someone who,
according to the neurologist, existed only in my head.

Oh, if only I could locate the company that
Bob works for...but I didn’t know the name. I didn’t pay attention
to the damn logo on the side of the truck. Just my luck...I pay
attention to everything, yet I missed it. No, I have a
condition...really. To uncover the truth, I would have return to
South Portland, but was that what I really wanted—’to leave
Hadrian’s Wall?’ Dr. Barringer’s words came back to me.

“Well, I can’t deny that Adrian Cahill had
become essential to my happiness. Getting away from him now would,
no doubt, make me suffer. I don’t know him very well, but it seems
like I have known him for a lifetime. Adrian Cahill was an enigma,
but also my safe haven.

Don’t dream so high, girl!
He’s beyond your means
...

 

 

 

8

 

MIGHTY IN BATTLE

 

By my reckoning, less than
two months had passed since I’d last drawn something, but now I had
a lot to inspire me. Hadrian’s Wall was a beautiful town. From the
window of my room, I could see all of the surrounding landscape
between the hospital and the lake, which I’m sure was a small
sample of the exotic scenery of the region. I was suddenly excited
about the idea of portraying some of that beauty in my own
artwork.

Sitting at the window, I
felt compelled to draw and soon found myself sketching a caricature
of a certain resident doctor, a very
handsome
man with his photochromic
glasses. While sketching his features, I wanted to make him less
unattainable in my head. He was so handsome, so perfect, and I
couldn’t deal with that
assault
of virility on my hormones barely out of
adolescence.

When I finished, the image
I’d produced was comically raising his eyebrows and tilting his
head toward me like he used to do.

I heard a knock on the
door, but the person entering didn’t wait for an
invitation.

“Hi, Mel!” said Charity Cahill.

So she’d decided to come
back. Why?

“Hi, Charity.” I’d just
started to retouch the drawing. Finish drawing art is always the
most annoying task.

“Remember what I told you
Mel... that my friends call me ‘CC’?”

Friends.
My eyebrow was subconsciously raising, just like
the caricature that I was highlighting with the pencil. I refrained
from making any comment.

Charity walked quickly across the room to
where I was sitting. She seemed excited... perhaps too excited.

“I heard you’ve been
discharged. How about a tour of the town? You haven’t seen all of
our beautiful sights yet.”

“Do you read minds or
something? That’s exactly what I was thinking!”

She laughed, tossing her locks platinum
blonde hair behind her shoulders.

“Come on, girl! Today I’ll
be your chauffeur.”

I was so excited that I
dropped the drawing on the table, without thinking twice.
Seeing the town

Finally, I was able to
leave the hospital. I was overcome with excitement. Looking around
me and seeing Charity’s elegant appearance, her fashionable glasses
with their mirror lenses perched lightly upon her head, I realized
that I was at a disadvantage. She looked like a goddess to me and I
looked like, well...the opposite, so I decided to tie a scarf
around my head to hide my clunky hair and shield me from the
sun.

Charity was frowning as she
watched me tie on thin, faded bandanna. “One of the lotions I
brought you was a sunscreen. Put some on so you won’t get
sunburned.

Mmm, it seems to me that
the Cahills vocation is giving orders
. I
let it pass, since I owed them so much, which is precisely what
kills me—being in debt to others!

She watched me as I stood in front of the
bathroom mirror and squeezed sunscreen from the tube into the palm
of my hand.

“I’ll take you to visit
the main attractions and then we’ll visit my favorite
refuges
.”

“Refuges?”

“Shops and beauty salon...and not
necessarily in that order.”

I scowled at her in the
mirror.
More gifts
. She looked back with a grimace, as if challenging me to
reject her invitation. For one brief moment, I thought she really
wanted me to reject her offer. From the beginning, I’ve had the
impression that Charity doesn’t feel comfortable with me.
She definitely doesn’t want to be my
nanny
.

Charity walked to the door, avoiding my
eyes. Perhaps she realized that her expression was quite revealing.
When she finally turned around, I gave a quick hand signal for her
to wait another minute.

She sighed impatiently,
but I
ignored her.
I didn’t ask her to drive me anywhere, so if she really
wanted to play the role of nanny, she’d have to bear the
consequences.

I’m a proud person, but I
know two things: First, I couldn’t miss the chance to explore the
town; and second, we wouldn’t have a pleasant time together if I
was contrary with her, so I decided to try a diplomatic
resolution.

I went to the closet to
change my shoes, but hesitated in front of the “shoe store” that
Charity had given to me. It was with regret that I pulled my old
suitcase from the back of the closet and selected my old, flat
ballet shoes. If I don’t walk too much, maybe they won’t hurt my
feet...b
ut I’d better make
sure
. I folded two pieces of paper to use
for lining and inserted one into each shoe.

When I returned, to my
living room, I saw Charity holding the drawing that I’d
done.

“Don’t say anything to
him,” I said.

“Why not?” She put the drawing back on the
table. “You draw so well. This caricature is great.”

I shrugged.

“C’mon,” she said as she
moved towards the door.

I took a deep breath before following
her.

* * *

I’d gotten used to roaming
the halls, but it never ceased to amaze me what a pleasant
environment it was here, so different from the negative impression
that I’d had about hospitals since childhood. The Caledonia was so
different—warm...peaceful...safe. I didn’t feel threatened. Quite
the contrary, I felt threatened
by the
thought of leaving here,
which would
happen very soon.

Where will I go after I’m
discharged? I had no idea.

Finally, I could see the external façade of
the building. It was all white, as hospitals tend to be, but the
walls were made of stone and the windows gave it a European flair,
a little medieval, perhaps to match the style of other buildings
around it.

Charity’s car was parked
in a small parking lot, surrounded by neatly trimmed shrubs. At
first, I didn’t pay much attention to vehicles, but soon I began to
notice that there were some...
uh
...
very
fancy
things on wheels
.

VIP wing for VIP
cars!
I thought wryly. Although some
apparently were older than others, most of the cars seemed like
they’d come straight off of a movie set. I couldn’t imagine so many
art objects in the form of costly luxury cars, with their
aerodynamic lines. It could only be for one reason:
very important people
who rule the roost. As someone said in
Ocean’s Thirteen,
I belonged to the
group of VUP—
very unimportant
people.
I was distracted from these
caustic
thoughts by a
very tall, elegant-looking guy. He was dressed all in black. His
face was partially hidden by mirrored sunglasses. He was talking on
the phone, while opening the door of a shiny black pickup, model
F-150 with tinted windows.
That is so
VIP!
I thought, with a hint of
cynicism.

I looked around and noticed that Charity was
waiting for me next to a...

“Wow!” I exclaimed.

She stroked the blue hood of her
convertible. Her fondness for the vehicle was evident in her
gesture.

“Wow, no...” she said,
faintly amused. “It’s a Porsche, but not just
any
Porsche...”

No, absolutely not! I also
wouldn’t be satisfied with just any Porsche.

“This is a Speedster 356 of 1957,” she was
saying.

Charity was an enthusiast for old cars. Who
would have known?

I approached it slowly,
examining every detail of the car. I noticed that it was a small
model, just like what I’d seen in an old movie, so I understood
that that Porsche was a relic to collectors with a bold design for
an old model. It must have been the epitome of modernity at the
time of its conception. It matched perfectly with the
owner.

She entered the Speedster.
I waited for her to open passenger door for me. I was so afraid of
damaging something, there was no way I was going to take the
initiative. I assumed that even the door handle would cost more
than the salary that I was supposed to have received while working
in the department store in South Portland.
If I was there...sometime
...

I had no time to put on my
seat belt. Charity quickly put the car in motion and off we headed
down the lane. When we crossed the avenue, I had a better view of
the place where the hospital was located. It wasn’t exactly in the
center of town, instead it was situated at a higher elevation. The
area was mountainous, with small hills and valleys, and a
spectacular cliff above the lakefront.
Above us I could see the tops of hills behind high stone walls
partially hidden among big trees.

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