what is worse?

What is worse? Finding out that you were not attached as you thought you were, or finding out that the things which have tied you down to that place had no real meaning in your life in the first place? Well, you spent enough of your salary on all this stuff, Van!

                It was both freeing and heartbreaking as she sorted through her “stuff” and was the worst is that she was done sorting most of it before she left for work at 8:30 am. It took her all of 3 hours to categorize, classify and decide what, where and how she would dispose with most of it. When she got to work the thought hit her as she stood in the elevator waiting that she should probably give notice.

                She had the Beetle Bailey impression of the rake thwacking her in the face that this might be a little more complicated than what she had originally imagined.    

                Standing in her living room amid the packing boxes trying to decide what to do with the 4 IKEA lamps all the while wondering if shear madness had overcome her senses, it probably was. Where did she think she was going? Another country or another planet, whether was or wasn’t the lamps had to go along with some of the furniture. The car had proven the easiest to sell, especially since she had sold it at cost. She had ended up subletting the condo, since selling it outright had proven to involve more of a commitment in time than she felt she had left.

                Vanessa couldn’t shake the feeling that there was only a small window before the opportunity to go home would be removed and she would be stuck here on earth for a long time to come. It was a feeling like one got when the scientists and astrologers started talking about planets aligning. Were there signs seen and unseen unfolding around her? Probably not but the feeling of foreboding remained with her from the time she left her parents. She could no more shake it than she could the determination that she would be going wherever Quest would lead her no matter how crazy it sounded.

                She had not seen him since that day in her office. He had called her the morning after she came home from her parents and left a voicemail on her home phone. She had played it and replayed it over and over again. It took her a good  15 minutes before she had gotten all the references and even now more occurred to her as she stood in between the moving boxes.

                “Leavin’ on a airplane, don’t know when I will be back again. All your bags are packed and you are ready to go, I will be standing outside your door when you are ready to go. Woke you up to say goodbye, you may hate to go, but every place you go I will think of you, Every song I sing I will sing for you, was this cryptic? Yep it was but when you are ready to go I will be outside your door.”

                It had taken her three used record stores and twenty buck to get the clerk to record the LP onto cassette tape to get a playable copy of that damned song. Peter, Paul and Mary not John Denver informed her of their intentions to leave on a jet plane and throw the context of the message into complete disarray. She felt like screaming at him but when she tried to redial the number called in on she got a subway pay phone in Hong Kong. It was very creepy and what were the odds that the girl who answered the phone knew reasonable English?

like the good doctor said in that Shawshank movie

She woke in the sunlight of a new day. She sat up looking around at her possessions. Where did one start disassembling one’s life? Vanessa knew that she would have to approach this as if she were going to be leaving the country for an extended trip.

                As she sat at her kitchen table listening to George Harrison promise that the sun was coming up, she thought about what she would need to do to prepare. Maybe she should get a book- a guide- for heaven’s sake! A guide? Is this where William Shatner dives through the window to offer a travel guide for leaving everything you have ever known if only you use Priceline to book the airfare?

                Now how to go about it? She paused to finish her Aptiva yogurt, strawberry flavor, and looked around the condo’s main room. She stood up and walked around inspecting her furnishings, CD collection, the laughably small DVD collection, TV, VCR Combo DVD player which had a small amount of dust coating it from all the use it was getting. The books on various shelves strategically placed to cover flaws in the paint and her mistakes attempting to disguise the structural flaws behind them. She doubted that there would be much space left at her parents for storage. She really doubted that storage would be much of an option as she just could not envision that she would come back or have any use for them should she come back. Could she live with that? Not coming back. No answers came as she stood there in the center of her living room spoon in hand.

                Am I ready?

                No.

                Well I best be about it then.

chapter 3 or 4

Chapter 3

                Vanessa found herself back in front of the picture window looking out at the water of the bay. The drive home was better than she had expected, she had listened to Kenny Rogers on an old cassette that her father used to play when she was a girl. He would sing the songs from that tape over and over as he took her and her brothers back and forth to school. “Love will turn you around” played it guitar riffs and a soft peace settled on her as she drove.

                When would the ship come? Would it be the same boat that Uncle had folded up and put in his pocket? She smiled at the misty memory, hugging herself as she remembered the warmth of his embrace as he had carried her out of the boat and up the shore to the… standing stones? The memory flashed into her mind and suddenly she could feel the ocean breeze tickling the hair at the nape of her neck. She shivered at the thought as she reached up for his hand.

                Vanessa froze with her hand pressed against the window pane and the whistling wind was gone. She looked out into the night at the stars reflecting off the water. The stones faded away into the clouds crossing the sky and the reflection of her face looking back at her.  She blinked a few times and wondered if this was going to happen often. She pulled her arm down to her side, arched her back like a cat and yawned.

                She dressed for bed but then sat on the bed spread in the semi darkness wondering about what was going to happen next. How much time would she have before the ship would come to take her away? Did she have enough time to settle her affairs? Where would she store her stuff?

                Your stuff? Vanessa? Really, are you kidding me? She chided herself. She would need to sell it or give it away but to who? She shook herself not liking the thought of losing all she had gained for herself, the furniture, the pictures, the prints of Salvador and Elmore, her LCD TV…. She laughed. My stuff.

                Was Quest her Tyler Durden? Was she like the Fight Club guy, so attached to the things that had no meaning beyond the IKEA catalogs? Where she was going would there be any such need for a snap together couch or one of those nightmare book shelves of pressboard from Wal-Mart?

                If that was so, what could she expect to take with her? Would there be electricity? Oh god, would her cell phone get a signal? The giggle bubbled up from wherever the laugh had come from.

                Who am I kidding? Cell phone signal? Really, Vanessa get a grip! Am I so fickle? What do you want? Am I ready? Well what did she really want?

                I want to go home.

                She curled up in the sheets her mother had given her for Christmas in her bed from Rooms to go and tried to sleep in a condo that she now realized had never been her home. Sleep came finally but rest did not come for what seemed like an eternity.

then the memory came

She rode on his shoulder as he walked down the silent street. The trees grew in neat rows on either side of the lane, evenly spaced between the concrete driveways. The morning dew glistened as she attentively peered around at the strange buildings behind them.

“Where did the boat go Uncle?”                 She asked a small voice from where she clutched his jacket.

“I folded it up and put in my pocket.” Her uncle said.

She, the child looked into his gray eyes, saw the truth in there and nodded accepting the explanation while her small hands gripping the collar tightly.

“Where are we going Uncle?” she asked as he slowed his pace and looked back over his shoulder as the street faded into the morning mists.

“We are going to your new home, love.” Uncle said.

“Will mother be there?”

“No, my love, your mother will not be there.”

She began to weep.

“Momma… Momma…”

He let her cry.

A song tugged at the corners of her mind but would not come.

She looked across the den at her adoptive parents. She knew now that the man she had called Uncle had given her to these people to raise as their own child. Uncle had trusted them to do this. She found that she only felt love for them, knowing that even now that they would not remember him. That he had given them memories that would fit into their concept of the world and how they would see it. It no longer mattered that they were not her real parents- birth parents.

“I knew him then only as Uncle, but he calls himself Quest. When I was four he placed me for adoption after my mother had died.” Even as she said it she knew it was true.

Together, her adoptive parents- no her mother and father sat in complete silence. She smiled at them as things became clearer for her, a weight lifted.

“I am not angry, well not any longer, the memories of before must have been blocked, I guess I was angry that I could not remember the time before you adopted me. You both have been very good to me, I have felt loved all the days of my life with you- I will always love you as my mom and dad.”

“What does this mean, Vanessa?” her mother asked, an edge of fear creeping into her voice. “What does he want of you?”

Vanessa sat back to ask herself the same question. What did it mean?  Are you ready?

That was the question that he had asked from the street. Am I ready for what? The answer was then obvious to her and filled her with a sweet sorrow and anticipation of what would be coming next. Quest had wanted what she had always wanted, even when she did not know or rather remember what she had always wanted. She wanted to go home.

                “I will be leaving soon.” She said, looking at her hands before glancing up to look at them.

                “Leaving.” Her father said, shaking his head, knowing it was the truth but refusing to accept it.

                “Yes.”

                “Why do you say that- how do you know that is what you must do?”

                “I just do, Dad, it is something that I have always wanted even when I did not remember why.”

                “How can you know that? You just said that you did not remember this man, Quest- what kind of name is that anyway?”

                “It is his name. I cannot explain how I know but I do.”

                “So you are going to turn your back on all that you have known and go- god only knows where based on the word of a man you barely know with a strange name.”

                “I know that I am going, that I must go, that I have to try or I will regret it for the rest of my life.”

                “You are coming back?” her mother asked “I mean you aren’t leaving permanently are you?”

                “I think that where I must go is farther away than a phone call can even reach.”

                Her father whistled.  Her mother nodded as if she understood but looked like she was going to began to cry again.

                “Mom. I am not leaving yet. I will be here for a while longer. This is something that will eventually happen, not this week or this month even but eventually- okay?”

                Her mother nodded, then sniffled then came over and hugged her for a long time. After that, there was not much else to say, so Vanessa took her leave of her mother. Her father walked her to the front door, he reminded her then of Hayden Fox when he acted in the old TV series, Coach. She smiled up at him and hugged him hard. He returned the embrace for a long time.

                “You may not be my flesh and blood, Vanessa, but you have always been my daughter. No matter what happens next, whatever comes next, you always will be.”

                “Dad, I wish I knew what to say.”

                “Are you sure about this leaving thing?”

                “No. Yes, no- I don’t know, sometimes it all seems so clear that I can put my finger on it.” She said leaning against the door jamb, “Then it is like a song I am sure that I know until I am singing along with it only to realize that while I know the tune I have forgotten the right words.”

                He nodded as this made sense to him too. Neither of them could remember the words to songs, when her father had taken her places, he would play a cassette or listen to the radio, when a song they both knew came on the radio, he would start singing along with it, only he would sing it to her. It took a few years before she realized that the words he sang, the words she would later sing were not the actual lyrics to that song. Her father had gotten very good at making up his own lyrics when he could not remember the original ones.

“I guess I am going to have to make up the words like my father taught me too.”

“Oh Van.” Her father said the smile coming onto her face for the first time in a long time. “Just make sure that you remember us where ever you end up.”

“I will dad. I know that I will be going back with Uncle when he goes, I think that it will be a long time before I can come back if ever.”

“How can there be someplace on this earth that you can go where a phone call cannot be made to let us know you are alright…or a postcard?”

“I don’t know but my heart says that this much is true.”

“Well if your heart says this much is true, then it must be.”

“Goodnight, Dad, I love you.”

“Goodnight, girl, don’t you leave without saying goodbye first.”

“Oh Dad.”

Vanessa takes a breath

Vanessa took a deep breath. 

“It’s just I found I had a question- an important question and-“she trailed off as she tried to find the words to ask it one more time. She held up a hand to forestall another interruption.  “I realized that asking the question over the phone was not appropriate or the right thing to do, but the feeling had gotten out of hand and I got mad at myself and well, you know the rest. I am so sorry about hanging up on you but I was trying not to lose my cool and failing miserably so I knew I had to do it in person… I am sorry that I upset you Mom…Dad.”

“Apology accepted.” Her mother said looking relieved. The moment had passed and she was calm almost serene. “Now, what was the question?”

“Well.” Vanessa started then stopped not sure how to proceed. “Was I a-“the word would not come out right, it sounded to foreign, almost obscene?

“Yes?”

Why couldn’t she just ask? Why did she feel like she was somehow betraying all she had known? The same frustration threatened to engulf her as she sat there twisting her bangs. Yes, she had reached up and was nervously twisting her bangs like a teenager!

“Were you what, dear?” Her mother leaned forward as if to stand.

“This man came to my office today.” She pulled her hands down to her lap with sheer force of will. “This man came to my office today and he told me…. (dammit all over again) I was- am I adopted?”

There, now, was that so hard she chided herself. Vanessa nodded in satisfaction that she had managed to ask finally. She straightened the towel then realized she wasn’t looking at her parents, she had only asked the question by looking down at the floor, fervently hoping the answer would be no. She made herself look at them, her mother and father. When she did, she was struck by the mortality that she saw in them. She realized then she had never thought of them as mortal and fragile beings but now she could see that the question was a hard one. Her father’s eyes were wide in his face, she could see wrinkle lines on the edges of his face, his widow’s peak was more pronounced and the gray hair seemed to be announcing itself to the world.

Oh daddy, I am so sorry, she wanted to say and have him pick her up and toss her into the air as if she were five again. She didn’t, but she made herself look at her mother. Her mother had not changed so much as her father, but her mouth working up and down was less like sputtering as much as it was like an old cow chewing cud- no sound came from it so the bovine metaphor stuck and grew eerie as she waited for them to say something, anything.

“What man?” her father managed to say after a lifetime had passed and his eyes had narrowed again.

“I am not sure who he was, but I felt-like, like I might have known him once or rather like I should have known him a long time ago before. Before I came here.”

“Where is this coming from Van? Her mother interrupted

“Is it true?” She heard a small girl ask softly.

“Van.” Her mother said, dripping with practicality and correction, “some strange man comes in out of the blue and strolls into your office and suddenly you have doubts about who you are – what you are?”

“Is it true?” she asked again, but she already knew the answer, there had been no mistake, she felt a sudden pressure in her chest, but she had to hear them say it.

“Does it matter?” her father spoke into the silence “After all this time, does it matter?”

“Yes. She almost whispered. “It matters.”

“Well, you can hardly expect us to-“her mother began again.

But Vanessa knew as well as if they both had broadcasted it over the TV. She knew the truth of it even as the tears began to slide down her cheeks. This woman who sat across from her filled with indignation and outrage was not her mother. Even though she had comforted her and held her when her brothers- not the boys who she had thought-believed to be her brothers had hurt her feelings.  This woman was suddenly as strange as the man, Quest had seemed.

“Is it true!” She said and thought she had screamed it because her mother stopped mid sentence and gaped at her.

“Yes.” Her father, not the man she had thought was her father said. The look in his eyes told her that it had cost him his entire parenthood to say it. She wondered if she had just sacrificed the only father she had ever known for the answer.

“Now.” He said with finality. “Who was this man?”

“I don’t know.” She began but something tickled the base of her memory “he said he had known me- well rather that I had known him when I was four.”

“Four?” Her mother- Margaret repeated.

Then the memory came.

Mom speaks

The tee shirt was one she hadn’t worn in years, it was to her chagrin a little tight as she pulled it over her head, and she had abandoned her shirt and bra at the stairs, her father busying himself with shutting down the sprinkler system. She walked to the den door and paused to collect her thoughts, remind herself of the interminable patience required when dealing with her mother when she was upset and had to smile that while she had mastered it, mostly, Anne had always failed miserably. She inwardly winced at this since Anne lived across the street and this may explain why her mother was marginally crazy after years of dealing with Anne’s melodrama.

Her mother had taken up the habit of retreating into the sunken den whenever she became upset; this was initially caused by her children’s problems after most of them had grown up. Even her father did not intrude without prior notice given or something really pressing.  Over the last few years the den had become not only her mother’s sanctuary when life got too much for her but also her audience chamber where the penitent (her children) went to seek her wisdom and forgiveness.

Vanessa paused at the door then cautiously peeked in to find her mother in her usual spot- the couch. She stepped inside but waited by the door silently until her mother would notice her and permit entry. Her mother sat in the center of a baize couch that face the door, a coffee table sat in front of her strewn with the remains of used tissues from what Vanessa gathered were in fact only a small part her own offenses. This must have been a bad week for children where her mother was concerned.

Nervously, Vanessa cleared her throat. Her mother gave a small start and looked up at her, misery painted on her small face. Vanessa felt the pangs of guilt race into her gut as she surveyed the streaks in her mother’s makeup and swollen puffy eyes.  Vanessa opened her mouth to begin her litany but then stopped at her mother’s look of puzzlement.

“Mom?”

“Why are you wet?” her mother’s answer cut her off, “it’s not supposed to rain. Is it raining?”

“Dad turned on the sprinklers…”

“What does your father…” but she trailed off as if the realization of what her husband had just done finally dawned on her. “-have to do with- oh, okay…I see.”

“Mom.” Vanessa said as she carefully laid the towel down on the couch- where she would eventually sit. “I am sorry about upsetting you but;”

“Well you should be!” her mother interrupted again, here we go again, Vanessa thought resignedly.  “Never in all my years have you ever…EVER… talked to me in such an insolent fashion! Your own mother!”

“Mom.”

“I think after all I have done for you. Sacrificed for you.” Her mother bit off each phrase with expertly timed outrage. In short, Vanessa knew that her mother intended to pick up right where she had left off during the last infraction they had had three years ago. It was funny how one person could store up resentment over the smallest thing and run on it for years.

“Mom.”

“What have I done wrong, so wrong that you would hang up on me, not once but twice in the same day?”

“Nothing, it’s just that;”

“That’s right, nothing, I have done nothing of the kind and, and, and…” her mother wrung her hands as she tried to catch up with her point. “But be caring, compassionate, attentive, supportive, friendly, forgiving, loving, open-minded.”

“Perfect.”

“Perfect, gracious, thoughtful, polite-“her mother was holding up fingers to count her virtues.

“Overbearing.”

“Overbear-“She finally stopped, maybe because she had run out of things to list or that she had realized that her daughter was interjecting words.

“Mom.”

“I am not finished!” She held out one commanding finger then sat back to take a breath and perhaps began again at the beginning of her rant.

“Margaret.”

Her mother froze her mouth open but no words came out.

“Margaret.” It was her father.

“What?”  Her mother asked, but she did not lower her hands

“Why don’t you give Van a chance to explain herself?” her father said from behind her.

Her Mother opened and closed her mouth a few more times, then closed it, nodded and sat back on her couch. Her father touched Vanessa on her shoulder softly as he walked past. He crossed the room and sat down next to her mother. Vanessa cleared her throat.

“Mom, first let me say I am sorry about the swearing;”

“Cussing. It was cussing.” Her mother interjected.

“Margaret, please.” Her father said as he mother was about to continue, he took both of her hands in his own lowering them to her lap as he looked into her eyes for a time.

“Cussing.” Vanessa conceded.

“It wasn’t at you or about you, it was just- well it was just the whole situation.”

Okay, Van, stop avoiding reality and get going – to face certain execution from your parents for cussing and hanging up on both of them. She made it halfway across the lawn before the sprinklers came on all around her. She yelped then sprinted through the deluge to the front door. She was soaked through with her shirt clinging to her skin by the time she made the top step. Her father stood at the door with a satisfied look on his face.

“Feel better?” She spluttered as she stood there glaring at her father.

“Immensely.”

“Look Dad, I-“

“It’s your mother you should be apologizing to.” He held out a towel. “She’s been in tears since you hung up on her.”

“Oh.”  And she stood there towel hanging loosely as her eyes fell to the patio floor as shame crept across her gooseflesh, pole axed.

“This isn’t like you, Van.” Her father reached out and touched his daughter, gently pushing on her chin until she raised her head. She looked at him; suddenly the 8 year old girl lost and bruised who had stood on that same porch all those years ago after losing a water gun fight with her brothers. Her father had dried her off and wiped away her tears.

“I Know.” She used the towel to wipe her own tears away and dry her face. At least her hair had escaped the sprinkler, she thought adjust the ball cap.

“I would expect something like this out of Anne>” Who had a long history of hanging up the phone on her mother and most of the rest of her family to boot.

“I know that Dad.”

“Or Tom or Kevin.” He continued.

“Kevin?” Kevin- The favorite son. He who could do no wrong.

“Last Christmas.” He shrugged, looking exasperated.

“Oh? What happened?” She asked as she began trying to towel off.

“Well! He went on a tear-“her father stopped and shook his head, then shook his finger at her.

“You should know- you were there. No you do know- you were standing next to him when he blew.”

“I know Dad, but-“

“You just tried to distract me, deflection 101- get one past the old man.” At least he was smiling.

“I was taught by the best.” She grinned up at him.

“Uh-huh, well since you are not going to get one by your old Dad, I would suggest you wander by the stairs and grab a fresh shirt and make your way into the den,” he gestured through the open doorway. “You mother awaits your apology in there.”

“What about you?”

“I will be in shortly.”

reminiscing

A project with her 2 brothers that had been successful in providing the 2 boys with some practical skills that pretty much had determined their career choices since following graduation both of them had gone into the construction business.  Tom, the older had become a general contractor before going to school to become an architect while Kevin had never done much more than work in one construction job after the other. 

Only Vanessa and Anne had gone to the University, of the siblings and only Vanessa had received a degree that would get her a job in the city at the prestigious ad agency of Locke Communications. Anne had gone to university to acquire a husband, well her first husband.  Bill had dreams of becoming an engineer until Anne had announced that they were getting married and moving in with his parents.

Bill’s parents were pleasantly horrified and announced at the wedding reception that while they were pleased that Bill had found himself a wife, that the two of them had decided to become missionaries in Tahiti and their house would be up for sale at the end of the week; all this while the guests were being serenaded by a wedding singer singing “She’s always a woman to me” by Billy Joel. Bill  had folded after a year of apartment living and Anne’s insistence that all they really needed was some money and three to four kids in order to achieve the perfect life. Bill ran off with a young convert from Tahiti that her parents brought home and went back to school in Jamaica to be on the safe side from Anne.

Anne had shrugged off the disaster with Bill and went back to State U and snagged herself a doctor whose family had given the couple a house as a wedding present. Of course, the house had been across the street from her own parents but Anne soldiered on despite this hint at where she belonged. These days, one could find Anne with a baby on one hip instructing Dad on how to install the newest washing machine that her overworked husband offered up whenever he got to come home from County General. Vanessa gave an involuntary glance over her shoulder at that thought and was immediately relieved and guilty since there were no lights on across the street.

The car ride was a blur of traffic, frustration and worry. Vanessa remembered little of it save for this same song that seemed to be playing on all the radio stations no matter how often she changed the station.

                “It’s the end of the world as we know it.”

Damn R.E.M. damn them she thought. She changed the station.

                “Here is an oldie that we all remember from the nineties…. That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds and snakes, an aero plane –“

She changed the station.

“Wire in a fire, represent the seven games in a government for hire and a combat site. Left her, wasn't coming in a hurry with the furies breathing down your neck”.

She changed the station.

                “Save yourself, serve yourself. World serves it own needs, listen to your heart bleed. Tell me with the rapture and the reverent in the right – right!”

She cussed and then changed the station.

                “It’s the end of the world as we Know it-“

She changed the station.

                “and I feel fine…”

She put a Rascal Flatts CD in

                “Prayin' for daylight waiting for that morning sun So I can act like my whole life ain't going wrong;”

She changed tracks.

                “There ain't no load that I can't hold  The road's so rough this I know-“

She briefly considered flinging the disc out the window; instead she ejected it and tossed it into the back seat. The radio returned to more of “It’s the end of the world as we know nit.”

She turned the radio off and pulled to the curb in front of her parent’s house.

A car passed as she was getting out and;

                “It’s the end of the world as we know it!

She cringed.

                “And I feel fine!”

The song faded away as the car pulled away on down the street.  Vanessa said three particularly choice swear words and felt like stamping her feet but didn’t.  She squared her shoulders took a deep breath and turned towards her parent’s house. The house she had grown up in most of her life.  The house had not changed much since they had moved in 20 some odd years before. It was a 4 bedroom rancher with a central lounge, moderately sized kitchen and sunken den that her father had put in about 5 years after moving in.  

6:46 phone call.

6:46 phone call.

Vanessa cringed.

“Hel-hello?”

“Vanessa Evangeline Schumpert.”

“Hello Dad.” She said weakly. wearily.

“Would you like to explain why I would hear that you were cussing at your mother and then have the gall to hang up on her without apologizing?”

“Well…yes, you see...”

“I am waiting, young lady.”

And there you had that too. Vanessa thought, her father the doctor but apparently always wanted to be the policeman. Of course her brothers probably had made him that way.

“I can, I will, explain, but I will have to do it in person!”

She waited a beat then, “I am coming over.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Should be there in half an hour.”

“I will see you then, but Vanessa;”

She had hung up, too soon. Dammit it to all that was holy and unholy, she had just hung up on her Dad as well. What on earth was going on? She had never, never hung up on her father.

The phone rang again, but she took the coward’s way out. She was sure voicemail would get it and it would be a howler of a message. Instead she ran into her bedroom shedding her dress, grabbing her denim jeans, sweat shirt and sports bra. She dragged the clothing on as she stopped to consider whether she should take flats over sneakers but decided that her father might end up running her like he had with her brothers so she grabbed a pair of Sketcher sneakers and headed for the door. Now wallet over purse, car keys over taxi and lip gloss over lip stick. She pulled back her hair and knotted it with a scrunchie.

chapter 2 or three

Vanessa found herself standing on her small balcony overlooking the City’s Bay Area as the locals referred to it. Her apartment sat atop one of the many small hills that sheltered the bay. She stood there a long time hardly aware of the slight chill that came wafting in on the ocean breeze.  As she looked out at the waters of the bay, she wondered if somewhere across its vast expanse her mother could still be waiting for her. She suspected that the distant shore was further than simply crossing the pacific to Asia.

                Silly girl, she chided herself, you have a mother and a father and siblings here, in the flesh. Some homeless man wonders into your life and spins a wild tale and you are ready to abandon wall you know and have known and believe him? What was wrong with her? This wasn’t who she was or rather who she had thought she was. But then she had thought she was someone else, not some child who had to be adopted by the couple who took pity on her. Why couldn’t her mother just have continued to withhold that information from her? She really didn’t need to know the truth, what was more she probably could have lived the rest of her life without ever knowing the ugly truth.

                Am I ready?

                That’s what this man called Quest had asked hadn’t he? No, he hadn’t actually said that where she could hear him. Had she simply imagined seeing him on the street minutes before he had walked into her office and turned her perfect life upside down? Why is this such a problem? She was a rational, intelligent being- there was no proof other than this thing he had called a memory was anything than some kind of hallucinogenic hypnotism that that charlatan managed to carry off- Who was she kidding? Even her rationalizing what happened today at the office was not working on convincing her that it had not happened. It seemed no matter how she wanted to remember it or rationalize it or explain it away; her mind would not accept it. What was more, her heart knew the truth and it still ached with the knowledge.

                There was no way she should believe this man but there was no way she could deny what she had felt. How cooed she reconcile this? She would turn to the two people who she had always turned to- they had always had the answers she had sought. Yes, she would ask her parents, if anyone could explain this her parents could, they had to know what had really happened-right? That’s what she would do.

                6:30 pm, phone call.

“Hello?”

“Mom?”

“Vanessa?”

“Yes, Mom, it’s me.”

Her mouth clicked her tongue. “It is I dear…I don’t know why we sent you to school sometimes.”

A kind of exasperation that could only be described as the majority of her relationship with her mother.

“It is I, Mom.”

“Yes, dear, I can tell it IS you.”

See, Vanessa thought, this is why she was prone to be an emotional mess.

“It’s nice of you to call dear.”

“I am sorry about earlier today, it’s just that I was- well it’s just that;”

“It’s all right dear, I figured it was another of those dropped calls that Verizon is always going on about on TV.”

And there it was, the way her mother dealt with all stress- blame it on the rain or dropped cell phone calls.

“Mom.” It was a simple statement, but loaded with subtext. Her mother did not miss it either.

“What is it dear? Are you okay?”

She wanted to say:  well I just broke down and cried like a lost child this afternoon for the first time in her life- that she could remember. But she didn’t, no, instead she plowed on ahead.

“I’m fine, but-“

“You don’t sound fine.”

Vanessa had an image of herself screaming in silent frustration and hurling the phone out of a college dorm window where it landed on the associate dean’s car and cracked the windshield. That had been awkward, though the Dean had been very understanding after Vanessa told him about the phone call, in fact she had laughed and asked her politely to have Vanessa’s father write him a check.

“Mom-“

“You aren’t coming done with something are you? That would be inconvenient with the party tomorrow night and all.”

“Mom.”

“Maybe we should get your father on the line- he is the doctor here, he should be able to tell what it is if you tell him all your symptoms.”

Could she afford another phone? She looked at the handset in her palm considering the distinct satisfaction of seeing it shatter against the wall of her condo. No with her luck she would miss the wall and it would fly out the window and wipe out the neighbor or a small Mexican population down in 4G.

“Mom!”

“There’s no need to yell, Vanessa.”

Had she yelled? Apparently she had.

“Sorry, I;”

“Well you should know better.”

“Mom.”

“What is it? What is so important that you have to interrupt?”

“I need to ask you an important question about-“

“Oh? What about?”

Why could her mother hear herself- here she had interrupted Vanessa for the umpteenth time! Take a deep breathe Van and try again she told herself. She even counted to three.

“I need- I mean, Am I-“

“Are you what?”

She screamed in her own mind in frustration.

“Dammit Mom!”

“There’s no need to swear, Vanessa.”

Dammit, dammit, dammit to all ends of Hell. This was harder than she had ever guessed and her mother was not helping the matter with all this nervous chatter.

“Vanessa, you ought to be ashamed, I have never heard you swear that much in all your days-“

Apparently she had not just thought that all that.

“Crap. Why can’t I?” She hung up by slamming the phone down on its cradle. For a moment she considered stomping around the room before the ludicrousness caught up with her and she sat down on the floor and hung her head. Crap! Crap, crap, crap and double crap! What is wrong with me? I can’t ask her this over the phone. Years had shown or rather should have shown Vanessa that her mother was lousy handling anything over the phone. Her mother was not allowed to take telemarketers calls because of this.

Oh shit! I just hung up on Mom!

A sound came from far away. Vanessa had the sense of falling down a deep hole.  It was as if she could now look on into her office, not from outside but rather from a corner of it. She looked down on a woman who was kneeling on the floor clutching her sides like she was in pain as she sobbed something to herself. The phone hung from her desk limp and forgotten as rain from a now gray sky streaked down the windows. The sound was coming from the woman. It was a sad mournful keening noise that resonated from deep inside her.

                The keening grew in intensity until it became a cry. Vanessa wanted to reach out to the woman whose face looked a lot like her own until she realized that she was the woman on the floor and that she could not stop as the sorrow flooded out of her. The cry grew into a howl as the pain and loss folded itself around her like a cold blanket. She heard herself say Alisandra over and over again between gasps for air.

                The door burst open as Sue rushed in to find her boss huddled on the floor sobbing and mulling for all her worth like a baby at full tilt. Instantly she knelt and drew Vanessa into her embrace that was at once motherly and sisterly. Sue had respected this woman, liked her even and even feared her a bit, but this was not her boss- this was a stranger to her, she had not known or even thought it possible that her boss could even or would even cry. Yet her they were, herself holding her boss all the while rocking back and forth murmuring sounds that she hoped were comforting.

                Security finally showed up, late as usual. Earnest and Young froze at the door unsure what to do. Their indecision written on their faces as Vanessa continued to sob uncontrollably. Sally became aware of the other women from the office peering over and around them. She glared at them until many of them blushed and disappeared from view. Earnest and Young being men, did not get it as expected.

                “Get out.” She declared as forcefully as she could muster. “AND close the door.” The two men had the nerve to look offended but complied with her command probably before they knew themselves were doing it.

                Time passed, Sue held on to her boss until Vanessa’s sobs subsided down into a whimper.  Sue released Vanessa who sat back against her desk, exhausted and spent. The two women sat side by side against the warm desk in the office, rain on the window pane looking out into the gloomy day. Vanessa breathed, taking in deep breaths sucking in as much oxygen as her lungs could hold. The pain in her chest had subsided down until it was a dull ache like a distant memory. Sally wiped her own tears from her face that she had not even been aware she had cried. Vanessa gave her a weak wane smile.

                “Thank you.” She managed to whisper.

                “Sure, boss.” Sue whispered back.

                Some time passed as the two women stared out the window in silence. Vanessa climbed to her feet then turned and helped Sue up. Each of them straightened their own attire. Sue handed Vanessa her compact, Vanessa frowned looking at the disaster her makeup had become then looked back at the other woman.

                “Weird day.” Sue said matter-of-factly.

                “You don’t know the half of it.”

                “Try me.” Sue replied as she took a chair.

                “My Mother, Mrs. What’s her name Schumpert,” Vanessa shook her head. “My parents- the people who raised me… it turns out they adopted me when I was four.”

                “Wow. They sure took their time on telling you.”

                “Yes they did, I wonder why I didn’t remember it?” Vanessa shook her head again.

                “That is heavy. I wonder why if they were ever going to tell you.”

                “I don’t know; it seems obvious to me now that we are not that alike. I guess I must have blocked out the memory.”

                Sue gave her a look.

                “What?” Vanessa asked.

                “The boss I have worked for- for years would have never broken down and made a sound that heart-wrenching over that kind of news- she might have yelled or thrown something, but that.” Sue gestured at the floor as if there was tear stains on the carpet. “That was some epic crying there, Boss.”

                “I know.” Vanessa sighed not sure she could believe what had just happened either. “Finding out you were adopted is bad especially if the people that you have accepted and always believed were your parents turned out to be withholding the truth from you, but you’re right- it’s not that epic.”

                “Then what?” Sue said fear creeping into her voice.

                Vanessa took a deep breath, feeling a new coldness slip slide over her skin.

                “I think that my birth mother is dead. A fresh tear slid down Vanessa’s face. “I think she was killed by someone or something.”

                “Wow.”

                “Suddenly I could remember her calling my name and holding me and it was all too much and I lost it.”

                Sue nodded. She turned to the desk and retrieved a wad of tissues then handed most of them to Vanessa but kept a few for herself. The two women busied themselves with wiping their faces clean of the tears and ruined makeup. They settled on the desk, backs to the window. Vanessa retrieved her purse and together they fixed their faces with Vanessa’s makeup and Sue’s compact.

                “What was her name?” Sue asked “your real mother’s, I mean.”

                Vanessa looked up at her friend, then smiled sadly and said.

                “Alisandra Mograine.”

                It sounded like a prayer.

Chapter 2

Vanessa spent the rest of the day in her office. She did not go out for lunch. The food that Sally brought in went largely untouched and finally she shoved it into the waste basket next to her desk. She rarely answered the phone, begging off answering because of a headache letting her voicemail pick it up instead. Pandora sat forgotten on her PC, its “Are you still listening” message ignored. A notepad sat on her desk with scribbling mixed with various spellings of her name and the name that Quest had told her was her mother’s.

                Her mother- Alisondre or was it Alisandra? Morgane or was it Morgraine? She had googled it and only got mixed results. The results varied from one where there was an Allisondre in a series of books by some guy named Robert Jordan, but she was a minor character albeit a queen.  The others fell into Facebook pages all the way to variations on the name with Google insisting that she meant Allison Drive for some reason.

                Morgrane or Morgraine came up with better results… well somewhat better results. Apparently there was a World of Warcraft hero named Mograine and the hero’s mother was named Alexandra Mograine which was interesting. That is until she learned that World of Warcraft was this online video game anyway. Another interesting search result was that there was a woman supposedly of King Arthur’s time if he really had existed out of more than a fairy tale anyway. This woman was purportedly supposed to have been half Fae- that is Fairy- though different somehow. It was all confusing. Morgraine was supposedly the woman or Fae that killed Merlin the Wizard or some such nonsense.

                Frustrated with Google and Computers in general, she had returned to her layouts only to find her mind turning over the strange meeting with the man who called himself Quest. She felt like she had known him but had no clear memory of him other than the one he had shown her. She racked her brain for some reference that anyone in her family had made about him or her real mother. She came up empty; she had brothers and parents who had raised her. None of their names were anything like Alisandra Morgraine.

                Sue stuck her head in the door, blonde curls bouncing.                                                                                 

                “Your Mom is on line 3.”

                Vanessa must have jumped as if she had been goosed. From Sue’s reaction to her own expression she guessed she must have really jumped high.

                “I’m sorry, what did you say Sue?”

                Sue sighed and clicked her tongue.

                “Your Mom- you know- the one who bore you?”

                “No- she can’t have- she’s…”

                Sue crinkled her brow. “Earth to boss? What are you saying? That the woman on the line is not Mrs. What’s her name-Mother Schumpert?”

                Vanessa gave herself a visible shake and blinked a couple of times.

                “Sorry, was somewhere else.”

                “That’s obvious, are you okay?”

                “Yes, it was just this meeting I had today- that guy, he really threw me.”

                “What guy?”

                Vanessa was about to say Quest when it dawned on her that Sue had not said anything about his surprise visit and appointment. Instead of answering directly, Vanessa stood and smoothed her skirt. For a moment she thought it was damp and suddenly she had a sense of salty laced wind. Then it cleared and she looked over at Sally.

                “What did you say?”

                Sue walked over and before Vanessa could react, placed her hand on her temple. Frowning she looked into her bosses eyes as if to confirm something.

                “No temperature, you must really be distracted, look, your mother is on the phone and waiting.” Gently she led Vanessa over to the desk, and handed Vanessa her phone. She shook her head twice before walking out of the office.

                Truth be told, Sally seemed to remember some man coming into the office, but she was not sure it hadn’t been Frank, the managing partner of the Agency. Though she could not remember what Frank had said nor done other than some fragment of him talking about the state of the economy or some such nonsense. If Vanessa hadn’t said anything she would have forgotten that anyone had come in today at all. The thought nagged at the edge of her memory, but by the time she had returned to her desk, she had forgotten what had seemed so important.

                Vanessa watched the confusion spread over Sue’s face, then melt away as her secretary turned and walk away. She wondered at the lack of quip or comment that failed to issue from her secretary. It was unnerving since this would be the first time that Sally had not quipped or commented at her about something she had failed to do or was about to do, since she had come to work for Vanessa. She held the handset up and pressed the line 3 button.

                “Hello? Mom.” She croaked out the last word. Mom sounded suddenly strange and inappropriate for some reason.

                “Hello Sweetness.” Her mother chirped then paused to take a breath. A long moment passed.

                “Vanessa? Is something wrong Honey?”

                Vanessa shook herself out of what ever had taken hold of her, cleared her throat.

                “Sorry, just a little distracted today, nothing is wr-“

                “Well, Honey.” Her mother interrupted. “As you may have forgotten, tomorrow night we are meeting your father at TGI-Fridays for your brother’s birthday party and I need you to pick up some things for the party.”

                Crap, the party! Of course, why else would her mother call her at work? She had completely forgotten about the party. Guiltily she looked down at the dress she had squeezed into this morning- the one she intended to wear to this party.

                “Anyway, dear, I need you to stop a Lederman’s Deli and-“

                “Mom?”

                “Yes Vanessa?” her mother sounded annoyed at being interrupted.

                “Are you… Are you my real mother?” that sounded so wrong, so unnatural. What was she doing? She needed to apologize and shut up, leave it alone. “I meant, I mean are you my biological – birth mother?”

                The sudden silence on the line spoke volumes on the line as Vanessa sat in terror of what could be said, what would be said, what might be said, her heart beginning to break.

                “Well…” her mother began to say then stopped. The voice sounded strained and unsure, so unlike her mother had been all the time she had known her. The thought struck her sharply; all the time she had known this woman who had raised her? Not all her life but a given period of time. 

                “Where is this coming from?” Her mother asked instead.

                “Is it true?” Vanessa persisted; the tears began to roll down her cheeks again. They were hot and burned as the fell.

                “Yes, Honey it is true.” Her mother suddenly sounded defeated. “We adopted you when you were about four years old from an orphanage outside Chicago. St. Anne’s I think…”

                “Why-“Vanessa’s voice broke; she had to swallow back the bile and urge to vomit as panic and despair threatened to overtake her. “Why didn’t you tell me>”

                “I, I,-“Her mother stammered as she tried to regain her footing. “You were so happy, so sure- that I, We decided that it could- no would wait…”

                “No….” Vanessa’s vision blurred. It was a whisper a prayer, hot tears pushed out from her eyes to slide down her suddenly cold clammy cheeks. “Momma….”

                “Besides you never asked.” Her mother said quickly as if to reestablish that she was the parent here. “Now what is this all about, Vanessa?”

end chapter one

No, she knew that she had been in the office the whole time, her mind trying to rationalize the memory away like a planted hypnotic suggestion. The office seemed to spin as she fought to cope with what had just happened – or not just happened. Yes, that was it; this man had hypnotized her and planted this fantasy in her mind. Well she would show him that she was no fool. After the office stabilized in her vision, she calmly reached out a plucked a tissue from the ornate box on the corner of her desk, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.  She looked over at the man seated across from her and opened her mouth to read him the riot act and nothing came out.

                She sat there in stunned silence as her mind turned over the memory and then filed it away in the story of her life all the while her rationality was screaming at it that it did not belong. Only it did, she knew that it was her memory and what was worse she knew there were more than that one. She closed her mouth with a snap and gazed at this man in mild surprise, her eyebrows went up and then she frowned as she remembered the man in the boat, the same man who was on the beach with her mother, the same man who sat across from her.

                She took a deep breath, then another and another. After breathing a bit, collecting her scattered thoughts which included a desperate attempt to remember the man’s name; she put her hands together on her desk, mostly to keep them from shaking, and opened her mouth again. This time the words flowed out smoothly.

                “Now what?”

                “Now I leave as you requested.” He stood and turned to leave.

                “Wait.”

                She felt a desperation bubble up in her breast as she spoke.

                “Yes, Vanessa?” He had stopped at her door; he looked back at her, his hand on the door knob. 

                “That’s all you’re going to do? Walk in here and wave your hands and do some hocus pocus?”

                “Hocus pocus?” Then he laughed, it was a good laugh- deep and full of life.

                “Not my finest choice of words… It’s just that…Hell I don’t know it just seems abrupt.”

                He stopped laughing but she could read it in his eyes.

                “True. I did come in here with more in mind then that but we made a deal and I will honor it.”

                “But- Oh, I see.” She felt disappointed. Disappointed! She frowned down at her desk searching for some way to say what she felt. How did she feel? Desperate is what she felt, but desperate for what?  She turned it over and over trying to put a finger on the emotion and define it.

                “Tell you what, I will do some more hocus pocus- to remind you that I was here and not some midday summer fantasy like the ones you have been having about the hunk across the street- who pretty much has the same about the secretarial pool every time they go out to lunch at the bar down the street across Main.”

                That comment made her look up at him in shock and surprise.

                “Huh?”

                Yep, that was it her razor sharp mind managed to articulate a full and refined “huh” like a distracted teenager. She was at the top of her game today. Idly she wondered where that confidant woman who had looked back at her from her mirror had gone.

                “I will wave my hands and leave you something to remember me by.” He crossed to her desk, placed a hand on its oak and mahogany finish. “Remember who you were.”

                The desk thrummed like a woodwind instrument in an orchestra with the opening notes to some symphony that Vanessa felt like she should know but could not place at that moment. The vibration was such that her papers shifted and her pens rolled around as if a tiny earthquake had just been unleashed on her desk.

                Vanessa was so shocked by the action that it took her a few full seconds before she realized that those last words were not spoken to her. Who was he speaking to? Her eyes wanted to check around her but her mind forced them to stay focused on the man. What was he doing?

                “Get out.” She heard someone whisper. Had it been her?

                “As you wish.” He crossed to the door and opened it.

                “Wait.” It was her voice again. What was wrong with her – why did she keep stopping him? She had become a blubbering idiot. Shut up, she told herself, shut up and he will leave! He will leave you alone and things can go back to the way they were.

                “What was her name?”

                The man who called himself Quest smiled at her.

                “Your mother’s name was Alisandra Morgraine.”

                Then he was gone.

The funny thing about memories is that they are timeless. Afterward, Vanessa could not have told anyone whether it took a second or an hour for the memory to fill her mind, for her to relive it before it faded back into her past where it must have belonged all this time. 

                She stood with her mother on a craggy coastal shore. The cold wind blew across her neck, wisping tendrils of hair brushing her shoulders. The pebbles were smooth beneath her leather sandals. She held her mother’s hand. A red backed crab skittered by crossing an open space between boulders off to her right unnoticed or unheeded by the big people surrounding her. Her mother’s hand was warm, wet and sticky.

                The big people were speaking but she wanted to chase that red backed crab.  She looked up at her mother; impulsively her mother’s hand tightened its grip around her own. Her mother was crying- tears slid down the parts of her mother’s face that were visible to her down there at her knee. The tears streaked the mud on her mother’s cheeks. She wondered why her mother was so sad and why she did not wash her face like she had told Van to each morning of her life.

                “What will it be like?” Her mother asked suddenly, interrupting the other who was speaking at that moment.

                A familiar voice answered her.

                “Think of it as a ship going out to sea for a long voyage. You will wish her good passage; say your farewells knowing that one day she will return to these shores.”

                “And- and what of me?”

                “It is as you will, my lady, as it always has been.”

                “I will fight until my dying breath.” The big people stirred around her, there was a sound of steel sliding free of scabbards. Then many of the big people surrounding her and her mother knelt. Each of them held up a sword in front of them, by the blades. They held the swords towards her, her mother as if to hand them to her. Her mother’s hand shook but she held on to it. The other speaker stood some feet in front of them, he looked so familiar but her young mind could not place him.

                “The guardians will Sheppard your soul should it come to that.” The familiar voice spoke.

                “What will it cost her?”

                “Cost? There was never any cost, milady.”

                “Thank you.”

                 Her mother turned then and she looked up into her mother’s tear-streaked face.  Her mother’s eyes were a deep sky blue. Her mother let go of her hand and knelt so that they were almost nose to nose. Her mother swallowed and started to cry again but choked it back. She cleared her throat then laid either of her hands on Vanessa’s shoulders.

                Listen to me now, you must go with this man, my heart, my love. This man will protect you until you can return to us, to me- the Father willing.”

                “Yes.” She heard a small voice say. “Yes momma.” She began to cry and her mother gathered her into her arms in a warm tight embrace.

                “Good bye, my heart, - my child, may the guardians keep you safe until we can meet again.”

               

Her mother picked her up and carried her forward to place her in the arms of the familiar man. Vanessa threw her arms around the man’s neck. She looked back at her mother from the man arms. Her mother’s armor and tunic were stained with dark colors. She seemed to stagger slightly under her daughter’s gaze.

                “You need healing, my Queen.” The man said.

                “Will it hurt?” Her mother asked as she readied herself for what was to come.

                “Healing hurts.” The man answered matter of fact like. He took a deep breath and spoke a word.

The world around her shimmered like a pebble dropped into a deep dark well. The pain left her mother’s face as she shivered at the shock of what happened to her body and she cried out.  Then the world came back together and her mother smiled. Then with a nod at the man she waved to her daughter.

                She was not certain that the man had moved but suddenly her mother was out of reach and receding as she waved to her daughter. As the gap grew between them, she saw the other people still kneeling, still holding out their swords to her mother surrounding her like a wagon wheel with her mother as its axle. Her last sight of her mother was so beautiful that words escaped her comprehension. So she turned to look over the man’s shoulder at the sea surrounding the boat in which he stood as it rowed out into the morning mists.

She glared at the man some more, what did he want from her? Well there was only one way to find out.

                “What do you want?”

                “I came here to give you a memory.”

                “A memory?”

                “A memory.” He said then added “Your memory- it belonged to you once.”

                “Right.” She crossed her arms again. “All this for a memory.”

                He held his arms wide. “All this for a memory.”

                “Me?”

                “Yes, you. You are more than you remember that you are.”

At that she cocked an eyebrow, then in a gutsy move she swiveled her chair away from him and looked out the window.

                “I don’t believe you.” She said silently hoping that he would just go away.

                “I need you to remember- as far as you believing… that will come later.”

Damn this man and his calmness. Damn him for coming into her office with this silly demand. Then she had the impression that like a foolish girl she had turned her back on a parent.  Angered warred with resentment as she turned back around to face him, only to find him standing right in front of her desk.

She jerked back in surprise, reflexively. He waited. She breathed slowly trying to slow her heart.

                “What if I don’t want the memory?” She asked pensively, damn it- could she stop sounding like a teenager.

                “You can’t always get what you want.” He said.

                “That’s a song.”

                “Does it make it any less true?”

                “So I guess this means that I need it.”

                “Yes.”

                “You think?”

                “I know.”

                “How?”

                “I can see right now that you are missing something in your life- something unanswered, I am surprised that you do not.”

                “Suppose I ‘take’ this memory, will you go away?”

                “Yes.”

                “And not come back?”

                “If you wish.”

                “Oh I wish.”

                “I thought that you would.”

She scowled at him for a moment, and then frowned before nodding.

                “Okay, let’s hear this memory of yours.”

                “Memories are to be relived not just heard. It is your memory not mine.”

                “I see.”

                “This won’t be like a movie.”

                “Oh?”

                “No, it is your memory thus you will be in it.” He said lifting his left hand towards her. “Close your eyes, Vanessa, it will make it easier.”

                “Easier? You think this is easy? Letting some weirdo touch me-“

                “Close your eyes, Vanessa.  Close your eyes child.” And she did.

Then she felt his touch, cool and soft on her forehead. He spoke something, a word, a nameless word and everything around her thrummed like a woodwind instrument. In the vibration, Vanessa remembered.