The Adam Enigma (25 page)

April 2, 2016
Taos, New Mexico

R
amsey stood less than three feet away from an overweight county sheriff's deputy. The man's face was ruddy from the unusually warm day and sweat trickled from beneath his white hat down his pudgy cheeks. He leaned against his cruiser with a bored expression on his face. Ramsey's immediate impulse was to tell him what just happened.

When the SUV arrived at the lodge, press and television were waiting for the man whose identity had been revealed to be Pieter Haas, CEO of the DeVere Mining Group. Word had spread quickly that the lost hunting party was a ruse. The rumor that spread through the region was that the missing hunting party had been on an expedition to lay claim to a new diamond discovery. The excitement over the possibility had caused such a stir that television crews as far away as Phoenix, Arizona had arrived on the scene. The county sheriff had dispatched four units to control the scene.

Before the media had gathered around the SUV, Haas handed Ramsey back his phone. “I put my private number in there, you're free to go. Do you need a ride?”

Taking the phone, Ramsey had replied, “No.”

He exited the car and walked off as if nothing had happened, stopping briefly at the crowd's edge to look at the mob scene around Haas.

The sheriff deputy looked at Ramsey with curiosity. Smiling, Ramsey shook off the urge to tell the deputy what just happened and walked away. Free of the crowd, he clicked on his phone's cab app. Victory Royal Express was the first listing in Taos.
I'm far from victory
, thought Ramsey, gingerly rubbing his chest where Haas tasered him.

Five minutes later he was on his way to the airport to catch a commuter to Albuquerque and then a late-night flight to Chicago. It would be expensive but a limousine would be waiting to drive him back to Grinnell. Ramsey needed desperately to ground himself in the mundane world of human geography that up until two weeks ago had been his entire life.

Once in the privacy of the cab, he opened up his text message threads on this phone. Haas had used it send to send a message in Ramsey's name to Myriam. “I collapsed from the heat and exhaustion. Haas took me to the emergency clinic in Taos. All okay now. Truck key under the seat.”

Myriam had replied, “Call me.”

Right now he was too tired to call Myriam. He needed to be home and settled.

April 3, 2016
Grinnell, Iowa

D
isoriented from having slept in his disheveled clothes from the previous day, Ramsey opened his eyes and saw slivers of bright light cutting across his bedroom wall. He reached for his phone. The time read 11:12am. Arriving around four in the morning, he had fallen into his bed. The trip home from Taos, New Mexico was exceptional by its uneventfulness: no visions, no coincidences, no mercurial women, and no one kidnapping him. It gave Ramsey time to think about what to do next. One train of thought told him to drop the whole Adam pursuit, forget about what happened the past week, return to life as it was before. He argued to himself that contrary to what Haas had said, there was nothing special about himself, nothing he could do to help find Adam—even if he wanted to. His job was done. The mystery of the shrine's healing power was resolved. Adam was a one-time anomaly whose power would vanish like the morning fog when he passed. On the other hand, the real mystery was the truth about his own role in the events of the past two weeks. This was totally unclear and he felt the strong need for answers.

As he walked to his bathroom he recalled that before he fell asleep he had decided to take one more step. Since he needed to retrieve his car at the Des Moines airport, he would try to get some answers from Malcolm Grossinger. But first he had some unfinished business. Cleaning out the pockets of his pants, he found the key to Myriam's truck.

Once Ramsey got some food and coffee he called her. She didn't pick up so he left a message saying Haas had sent the text about collapsing from heat and exhaustion and she should call him back as soon as possible. Within minutes a relieved Myriam responded.

“You're safe?”

“At home in Grinnell.”

“That's a relief. When I saw Haas putting you into his car, I thought for sure he was kidnapping you.”

“In a way he was. He wanted to talk to me about Adam. Wants me to help find him.”

“Will you?” she asked.

Ramsey heard the hint of desperation in her tone. But he couldn't be sure if it was for finding Adam or keeping the shrine's caretaker out of the clutches of the South Africans. He decided he could ease her fears either way. “I'm through with that. Adam's alive and I wish him an obscure life away from South Africans and anyone else trying to exploit his powers.”

Myriam said, “I understand. I'm just glad you're all right. I feel so responsible.”

“No worries,” Ramsey said in a comforting tone. “Like me, you appear to have been a pawn in some grand scheme by Haas and his Brothers of the Lord buddies to find Adam. In many ways my part in the whole business, my whole involvement in the way it went down, doesn't make much sense to me.”

There was a pause and then Myriam said, “At the time it all seemed simple and clear what I had to do, but I see what you mean. I have to tell you something. I suspect you noticed the tremor in my leg.”

“I could see you were trying to hide it. Parkinson's?”

“Yes. Yesterday something remarkable occurred at the shrine when a young woman told me you were in trouble. I suddenly found I had regained my balance and strength and was able to run down the hill to the parking lot. Unfortunately not in time to help you, but the Parkinson's is gone. In fact, yesterday afternoon at the shrine was like before Adam disappeared. Many healings and realizations were reported.”

“Interesting. I'm very happy for you,” Ramsey said.

“Those healings and my own healing raise interesting questions, don't they?

“Perhaps. Is it still happening today?”

“I don't know. I haven't been there yet.”

“So what's your next step?”

“Hiram's on his way here. We'll see. By the way, I have another key. Keep the one you have just in case you come back.”

“You need to work it out with Hiram,” Ramsey said.

“I know.”

“I have to run. Take care.” Ramsey wondered for a moment what the return yesterday of the Milagro Shrine's healing power meant. He thought about calling Myriam back and asking her to check. Was it just another anomaly in a world full of anomalies? He shook his head.
Remember, you're letting all that go old buddy, after you speak with Grossinger
.

Next Ramsey called Pete, deciding not to tell about his abduction. They arranged for Pete to send Ramsey's stuff he left in the cabin back to Grinnell.

Then Ramsey made the most important call of all. He wasn't surprised when Grossinger agreed to meet him on such short notice. Once again they decided to meet at Adam's old apartment.

Ramsey arranged for one of his new employees to drive him to the Des Moines airport. The drive turned out to be highly productive. The young man was able to bring Ramsey up to speed on the company projects—particularly the upcoming visit to Blue Island, Illinois, on behalf of one of the company's urban clients. Ramsey also took care of a number of calls and emails.

Normality felt good.

April 3, 2016
Seattle, Washington

I
n many ways, Alex Moore was the spitting image of his uncle. Like Adam, he was tall, large-boned, and muscular—but instead of red hair he had long, jet-black, dreadlock extensions.

He gently closed the massive door of the isolation chamber. It was designed for PSI experiments by one of the world's leading paranormal investigators, Patrick Rhodes. Its two-foot-thick lead walls were impervious to all known electromagnetic radiation, sound, and bioenergetic fields.

To an outside observer Alex could be described as possessing the sort of presence that would draw the attention of every person in a crowd. He briefly scanned the empty room that acted as a gateway to the chamber, and then opened the second door.

Looking out the window with his feet up on the desk was a bespectacled young man dressed in a t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and sneakers. A mop of brown hair stuck out in all directions. He had a two-day growth of beard that covered his narrow face in dark brown patches.

Alex said, “Not long now.”

Rhodes looked away from the window and the rain clouds enveloping Seattle's downtown landscape. He pushed horn-rimmed glasses up his long nose. “Can I go in the chamber?” He asked with reverence in his voice.

“Of course.” Alex smiled. “I'm going for some coffee.”

April 3, 2016
Rio Chama, New Mexico

M
yriam once again sat on her favorite bench that allowed visitors to gaze upon the shrine's venerable cottonwood tree. The catkins had dried up and the majestic old tree's spray of new green leaves glistened in the sun. She took a deep breath and let it out, but it did not release the anxiety that held her body tense against the chill spring wind. As she began to shiver, Myriam thought to herself,
Shivering but not trembling. What a relief.

Then she saw him. He thrust his hand in the air signaling he saw her. He stopped, waiting. The anxiety disappeared and Myriam vigorously waved back. With that Beecher strode quickly up the rest of the slight rise toward her.

As he got closer, Myriam could see the openhearted smile of her lover. It was all she needed. She raced to the man she held so dear for so long and fell gently into his embracing arms.

At first nothing was said, each content to savor the touch of the other as they walked towards the small Christ Chapel. The breeze died and the morning sun felt like a blanket engulfing them in radiant, loving warmth.

Finally Beecher spoke. “Your Parkinson's, it's gone?”

Myriam was surprised. “I didn't think you knew.”

“I could see what was happening and I researched the symptoms.”

“I didn't want to tell you. I thought you would turn away.”

Beecher looked her in the eyes. “I wouldn't have. And I won't now if you'll let me stay.”

“Hiram,” she said as tears filled her eyes. They walked on.

Finally Myriam said, “It went away! The only way I can explain it is that I was healed by the shrine two days ago. I'm fine. Miraculously, everything is normal now.”

When they reached the Christ Chapel, Myriam told Hiram the whole story of Ramsey's abduction by Haas, Father Michael's complicity, and Ramsey's safe return to Grinnell. She ended the story by saying, “Jonathan's done with the whole matter. He's really pissed that everybody played him. He had no idea why Haas was so convinced he could find Adam. But none of that matters.” She twined her fingers in Beecher's. “Are we together?”

“We are,” Beecher replied lovingly.

Myriam's mood changed and she asked anxiously, “Are you worried about Haas and Brother Paul?”

Beecher shook his head and took her in his strong arms. “I was a pawn too. They don't need me anymore, so they'll leave us alone.”

Myriam hugged him fiercely, glad they were safe. “So what should we do?”

Beecher looked down at his feet. Shame threatened to overwhelm him. But he knew he had to tell Myriam everything. He took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something. It may change how you feel about me.”

Myriam hid her anxiety and desperately hoped what he was about to confess wouldn't change their lives or her commitment to the man she loved. It was strange feeling this way when only two days earlier, she had been so angry she contemplated leaving him.

“I had a strange experience when I met Conklin in Austin in December last year,” Beecher began. For the next ten minutes he laid out his encounter at Oilcan Harry's with the transvestite. He finished and waited for Myriam to say something.

Myriam rocked back on her heels. The story was hard to believe yet there was something in his contrite expression that indicated he was telling the truth. It was as though he had been transformed or some heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Hiram, why didn't you tell me earlier?” she said softly.

“He shook his head. “Fear, maybe. . . . No, it wasn't only that. I was also ashamed of my life in the Brothers of the Lord. I saw that I had acted in a non-Christian manner, I suppose, but more so, I had acted without love for a fellow human being.”

He looked at her with tears in his eyes. “I guess I'm asking for forgiveness for many sins.”

Myriam felt the knot in her stomach slowly release. She saw in front of her a changed man but a man who could still be her friend and lover. “Truly you can only forgive yourself, love,” she heard herself say, but she also knew she had to forgive him herself or their relationship might not survive his confession. “I understand,” she said with compassion.

He closed his eyes and she saw the worry drain out of him. “Thank you,” he answered. But there was one more thing Beecher knew he had to tell Myriam. “There's something else, but it's more of a question than divulging a sin. When I confronted Conklin yesterday, asking him one more time which side he was on . . . why he was doing what he did, he told me he was in love with me. Said he had felt it since the first day he set eyes on me.”

All the while Beecher had been telling his story about Oilcan Harry's, Myriam had listened intently holding back any judgment. She took a deep breath and said as matter-of-factly as she could, “Hiram, what did you say to him?”

“I told him that nothing like he wanted was possible between us.”

“And how did Conklin take it?”

Beecher shrugged. “Said he understood.”

She saw he was still holding something back and gently prodded him to tell her everything. “And?”

“I wanted to say we could still be friends, but the words never came out of my mouth. I'm wondering if I did the right thing?”

Myriam stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. “There's plenty of time to answer that question, love.”

“How did I get to deserve such a beautiful wonderful woman as you?” Beecher asked cradling her lovingly in his arms. “Let's go home.”

Myriam smiled. “Let's go home.”