Claire's walls began to crumble as she poured herself into her art. Her talents were amazing. She took some of her pieces to local galleries and the response was encouraging. As she ventured back into the world more and more Alexander became concerned. She wasn't going to slip away again. Todd Doogle was brought in under the pretense of body guard but in reality was a mole. Alexander wanted to know where Claire was and with whom at all times. As far as Alexander was concerned she still belonged to him. Possession was everything and meant control, power and authority - these things nourished his dark soul.
I was thrilled to see the Claire I had always loved return, strong and resilient. To overcome such extreme abuse and still find beauty in the world was admirable. She had so much to offer. Her artistic spirit began to radiate with every sale. Her natural talents must have come from her father because no one else in our family possessed a lick of it, I was capable of some rudimentary architectural sketches but was unable to capture any of the passion Claire possessed. I always knew she would find her inner greatness. Part of her growing success could be credited to Claire's ability to absorb emotion like a sponge then transform it into art on canvas.
Michael and Lyn each had unique gifts to offer the world as well. I would have preferred any one of their talents; they, at least, offered something to the world. It may surprise or shock you to know Michael was an accomplished pianist. Delicate fingers on ivory seem like such a stark contrast to what he became. His innate talent emerged early in life and Katherine made sure this gift was not squandered. Lyn's contributions were far more ethereal. Every gesture Lyn made was from love and it broke her heart each time it was not accepted with the purity offered. I speak from experience when I say… It's tragic when a gesture made from the heart is so profoundly misunderstood. Love given with such intensity takes immense fortitude which Lyn possessed in spades. She also harbored a deeply spiritual side, which stunned me. There was no religion discussed or exhibited in the Cambias household. None of our staff were allowed to display any symbols of faith. The only thing a Cambias was to have faith in was the all mighty dollar and the power that ensued.
By contrast to the others I offered nothing to the world but was defined by Alexander's expectations. He saw me as calculating and conniving, just like him, a description I loathed, but for many years I had myself convinced of their legitimacy. Destined to build wealth, bred to hurt and destroy and ordained to grow the Cambias Empire; my life was not mine to lead. I was to chase his dreams and pursue his passions. Where was the satisfaction in that? Where was the sense of accomplishment? How was I to sleep nights knowing my bank account grew at the expense of other unsuspecting souls?
I had dreams, dreams of being a ball player or a pilot, dreams of seeing the world my own way not through the fanatical eyes of an evil man. But in my house, dreams were delusional; a threat to the master plan, and any journey towards self-discovery was just a wasted trip. You eat, breathe, and sleep Cambias. That was my father's obsession and therefore, by default, mine.
There was never any doubt who Alexander's favorite was. He made no attempts at subterfuge. It was drummed into my head from birth and it didn't take Michael or Lyn long to grasp the reality. Lyn was indifferent. Superficial things did very little to impress her. She was too concerned with the inner workings of a person's soul to care about irrelevant things like favoritism. She looked beyond the surface, inside was what mattered, motives what counted. Young children are trusting and loving by nature but Lyn took it a step further. At the age of six she had the remarkable ability to love and find the goodness in people. I think however, Alexander presented an exception to her rule. There always is one - an exception that is. Warm laughter, a loving touch, attentive listening these were the things that mattered to Lyn. She was constantly defending the underdog. I lost count of the number of times she tried to champion Michael to our father or their classmates. This always seemed to make matters worse and angered Alexander in the process. He found it intolerable that a man or boy, in this case, would allow a girl to act as his shield.
Michael's reaction to my position was quite different. Jealousy colored his actions on occasion but true to form he immediately regretted anything he said or did to me out of that resentment. Deep down all he wanted out of life was our father's acknowledgment but all he got was disparaging comments and comparisons to me.
"Why can't you think on your feet like your brother? You are a sniveling sissy. Where is your backbone letting your sister fight your battles? Alex would never allow such a thing." These words, shot repeatedly from Alexander's mouth, wounded Michael.
As a lad Michael stuttered and was constantly being picked on for it. Many a day he would come home from school in tears, clothes tattered from being pushed. His impetuous nature would get the better of him and out would fly the first awkward swing followed immediately by his ass kissing the dust or face in the dirt. Lyn would always step in, never a proponent of violence, and start reciting the golden rule. As expected this did not reflect well on Michael. It annoyed Alexander and he was always quick to point out my solid left hook and reasoned approach to dealing with a situation. Michael's attempts to explain himself were always met by a raised hand telling him to stop.
"I have n…n…no p…p…patience for your baby talk! Grow up and the sooner the better." Was the standard Alexander retort.
How Michael ever outgrew his stammer I will never understand.
I recall a day when the twins were six. We had been in the garden playing hide and seek when Lyn found a small bird out of its nest. They begged to care for it and release it when it could fly. We found a box and with the help of the gardener were able to nurture the tiny creature. Michael and Lyn took great pride in helping that bird grow. It was on their minds and in their hearts constantly. The first thing they thought of every morning and the last thing they thought of each night. We had not been taught by example about acts of kindness with no expectation of reward. We felt like heroes. After several weeks of care the bird was ready to enter the world. Father had just returned from an extended business trip and the twins were so proud of their success they rushed to show him.
"Now would you please explain to me what you did here?" He asked carefully lifting the tiny creature from its box.
"W--we f-f-found it and it c-c-c-couldn't fly." Stammered Michael "We helped it." Lyn said beaming.Michael just grinned from ear to ear, eager as always to please, swollen with pride at their accomplishment.
"I see no reason for doing this. The bird was weak. We are Cambias. Providing assistance is not what we do. We take advantage of the weak!" He boomed.
And with that he snapped the bird's neck.
Michael burst into tears and ran to father and tried to kick him in the shins. While holding the dead bird in one hand he grabbed Michael and twisted his arm just enough to cause Michael to loose his balance and tumble to the ground.
Lyn stood her ground and stared at him in
complete disbelief.
"You killed one of god's creatures. You
are evil and you will go to hell! She preached. Tears filled her
eyes but were quickly wiped away.
"Evil is just a point of view my dear." responded Alexander with a chuckle.
By now Michael had righted himself and ran toward the stables.
I stood glaring at father. Hate filled my heart. I cannot say I was surprised by his actions but until then I held out hope I would be wrong.
"Here, get rid of it." He said with disdain as he passed me the dead bird.
"Don't waste your time on such trivial matters in the future. You are Cambias."
Lyn and I found Michael by the stables and together we buried the tiny body. Lyn laid stones over the grave and prayed. Michael cried for hours. The rest of the afternoon was spent trying to comfort them the best I could. Alexander's actions were difficult to explain.
The only thing I was sure of from that very moment was I never wanted to be like my father.
