Blunt XI

Catherine stared out the window watching the rain fall steadily through the dark night. Heavy droplets of water, reflected in car lights, bounced off the road like tiny rubber balls flying in all directions. November weather was unpredictable. It could snow or rain. She remembered its unpredictability from her childhood but missed more than twenty Novembers lying useless and unresponsive in a coma. Her senses recognized that climate had changed from the warmer California winters. She could hate the wetness and chill which seeped into her bones, but she didn't.

The incessant rain kept her husband below and away from her thoughts. She prayed for the safety and wellbeing of their family in the tunnels. The water emergency threatened everything they held dear. Vincent`s preoccupation with the crisis prevented him from accessing the turmoil of her thoughts. If he could spare a moment, it would be for the children who were already stressed by the abandonment of parents. Going below was out of the question for her. She would have been a distraction for Vincent. Her occasional physical unsteadiness posed a risk.

Catherine spent most of her time organizing some supplies through the helpers above. She arranged to move any children at risk from the tunnels. As she sat at the window seat in the living room, her thoughts passed from the situation below to the worrisome gap in her knowledge base. 'Twenty years gone, dissolved into nothingness!' She hated to think about the time as loss but could not put it in perspective. She tried to recall some event, some memory, any sound which would give her brain some context but there was nothing. She wondered why it was important but knew immediately that her healing journey was drawing to a close. As strength returned to her limbs, and the life force returned to her internal organs, she needed to reconcile the mental aspect of her being. Vincent's steadfast love allowed her to bridge the gap between then and now. She had long since accepted the baby son who was now a man. It would have been easy to pretend that the black hole of her life didn't matter, but the missing years and its attendant knowledge deficit did matter. Perhaps an in-depth study would reveal no memory at all but a stubborn part of her refused to accept that she had no sense of where she was all those years. She must have heard something.

Catherine's head turned sharply as the sound of her daughter-in-law's footsteps were heard coming down the hall.

'I'm in the front Cathy,' she called out.

'Mom , have you heard anything new?'

'No nothing. Vincent will send word if he is worried.'

'I haven't heard from Jacob either but I know now, that he can reassure me without actually saying anything.'

Catherine smiled at the lovely face of Cathy. She stretched out her arm to draw the young woman into an embrace. 'You two are perfect for each other.'

Cathy was silent for awhile before tackling an issue far removed from the moment. 'It's been so crazy with this emergency. We really didn't get a chance to chat after you saw Diana. Did you find out anything new?'

'Cathy, I have been so glad that Vincent has been away these past few days. I wanted to avoid telling him what she told me. I had no idea how involved she had been with Jacob's capture. My husband has been trying to protect me by limiting my knowledge.'

Cathy's silence spoke volumes. Clearly that was not an answer she was expecting.

'Did you know Cathy?'

'I had a pretty good idea. Jacob and I went to see her before he made the trip out west. She sent us to Joe to find out the truth but she had no knowledge of you still being alive.'

'I know that now. Did you know that there were videos?'

Cathy nodded.

'Have you seen them?'

Cathy pulled in her lower lip. She couldn't lie and yet the worry of sharing the information without backup worried her.

'Cathy?'

'Mom, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. Jacob didn't know how to use the video. He was so desperate for a sense of you that he needed to...you know...he wanted to see you.'

'What did he say?'

'My mother was beautiful and so brave.'

Catherine was silent, digesting the compliment. "Since my body and my memory have returned, a lot of time has been spent wondering if I did everything possible to save myself and my child. I thought myself a coward for giving up so easily. That feeling lay at the core of my depression.'

'Oh no, Mom! I think few women could have withstood the pressure you were under. It boggles my mind.' Cathy paused seeing an expectant look from Catherine. 'Mom, I don't want to look at them without Jacob and Vincent here.'

'I think I am content, for now, to know that they are here and available. I can wait. What oppresses me more is the huge gap in my memory. I long to have just one sense of reality from those twenty years.'

'Jacob can help you.'

'That's what Diana and Patrick said. Both of them!'

'Let him. He would be glad to do it.'

'Have you allowed him to help you find your family?'

'No...but Mom, I don't have a gap in my memory. I am looking into the past. Jacob has taught me how to access information through dreams. I am working on it. He doesn't have to tell you everything but he can help you find your way. He's done that for me.'

Catherine smiled at the eagerness in her daughter in law. The urgency to seek out the past reduced somewhat. With Cathy's entreaty on behalf of Jacob, she knew that in time she could find her way. 'I'll consider taking it step by step. When this crisis is over, we'll look at the videos together. In the meantime, I was so caught up with my needs I forgot to ask Diana anything much about Susana. I will say that I enjoyed Diana's professional company. She is a great investigator.'

Cathy nodded. She felt that Catherine's looming personal crisis had passed without incident. Her own intuition told her that it was temporary. Like her own need to find answers, Cathy sensed, in her mother in law, that same pressure to connect all the dots of her life. The two women shared some more desultory conversation before Cathy headed back upstairs.


Catherine's restlessness did communicate itself to Cathy. She was worried about Jacob who had gone below to help his father sort out the excess water flooding the tunnels and threatening the community. As soon as he left work in the day, he made his way there before coming home tired and worried. They were very close to having to evacuate the entire community. For the past three nights the women had been alone. Cathy had work to do for Holly and quickly completed her assignments before sharing time with her mother-in-law. This was the first time they were able to discuss the visit to Diana.

Back in her apartment, Cathy sat in the den staring at the computer screen, unable to find even one topic to 'Google'. She spun the desk chair around giggling like a school girl when nausea overtook her nonsensical behaviour. The chair stopped at an odd angle to the computer but in her direct line of vision was the gold and black box which Edgar Raeburn had given her before his death. She had glanced inside of it once before placing it on the shelf. Cathy had no real interest in her father's family. They had treated her and Lena with disdain. Frederick was indeed her biological father. Unknown to Cathy and her mother, Edgar had checked to see if the DNA matched. He kept that knowledge to himself all those years because he hated the lifestyle of his son. 'How silly to punish the child for the sins of the father,' she thought.

Cathy stood up and took the box off the shelf, untying the ribbon and opening it carefully. Inside was the book which she had glanced at briefly and a few trinkets which probably had value but Cathy had no interest in determining their worth. She turned the pages over quickly, by-passing the numerous family trees which traced the Raeburn dynasty.

The last few pages were the only ones of importance at that moment. She turned to the section which contained information about the man who dominated her mother's life. Scripted in a beautiful hand was the name Frederick, his birthdate, a copy of an astrological chart and other data which had no meaning to Cathy's untutored eyes. She turned over the first page. Pictures of the child at various stages brought a frown to the forehead. 'His eyes always looked so sad'. There was not one picture of Frederick's mother. An old photo posed with his brother, Brian's father Edgar Jr. gave no clue as to the relationship between the boys. 'At least he had a brother. I had no one.'

Cathy continued to turn the pages, remembering the story of Vincent's mother, who had spent time caring for the youngsters. 'I can't believe how interconnected this family is. Are we meant to find each other and be together? For what purpose? She looked at a list of Frederick's accomplishments. He had been a pretty good student, held two degrees. Cathy knew that Frederick cared about the Music Theatre Arts but she was discovering that his initial interest was in architecture. 'How did he move from one to the other?'

Despite hating him for so many years, Cathy immersed herself in the information which the book provided. She had short changed her father for years, seeing in him a lazy dilettante who did little except live off Lena's earnings while sharing his body with unclean men. She suspended that judgement in the face of this new image of a man who obviously found beauty in buildings, new or old. Clearly those structures which housed theatrical arts attracted his interest. Cathy wondered if the buildings shown in the book were ones which he had designed or just things which he admired.

One building seemed to hold a place of honour. Clearly it was one which Frederick loved more than any other. The exterior had an odd Egyptian motif. It wasn't strange that there would be a connection to Frederick. Edgar Raeburn Sr. and his cronies had all been followers of Aleister Crowley, a magician and philosopher who spent years in Egypt bringing back to Europe, England and the US, his version of the mysteries. Surely Edgar's grandchildren would follow in the footsteps outlined by their grandfather.

Cathy didn't know much about buildings but the photo seemed to indicate that it would have been built well before Frederick would have been capable of any design. What was it about the structure which he loved? Cathy herself felt drawn to the photo. She looked up at the screen saver on the computer. Without a touch, the home page came on, as if inviting her to Google the history of the remarkable structure. She looked at the keyboard and quickly typed in The Empress Theatre, unsure what she would find.


California

Hélène stared at the microphone in front of her face. Not one shred of nervousness permeated her body. Philippe had asked her to provide an interpretation of the song written by his protégé. His intention was to record a version for the young lady and hope that she would take it to heart. From his booth, he smiled broadly and gave the thumbs up. The music played in her ears and she sang lightly, giving an upbeat but soulful rendition of the music, something apparently impossible for the young lady.

Philippe listened with pride, never wavering in his admiration for the voice. Even Den, who usually managed the 'stiff upper lip' of his countryman almost all the time, fell prey to the seductiveness of her voice.

'Did you ever record before?' he had asked.

'Backup, a little, but not like a professional. I am a teacher.'

The three of them listened to the playback and sighed collectively. They hoped that the aspiring writer/singer would hear a symphony rather than the raucous rap she chose to make her musical vehicle. The trio declared themselves satisfied and ended the session.

'Are we going now?' Hélène asked, getting more nervous about meeting Philippe's other family.

Philippe nodded. His mind was preoccupied and focused on his partner. Vladimir had spent the day organizing and planning the evening dinner party. Every hour the number of invitees increased. He had phoned the studio the previous day to say that Sandy was coming to town and hoped to visit with Terry and Jason. Naturally she had to be included in the invitation. Sandy always seemed to pick the wrong time to insert herself in the family. Vladimir would never encroach on her life in New Mexico but she found ways to remain a part of his life. Philippe turned to bestow a smile on Hélène, recognizing her sudden anxiety.

'Don't worry. It will be fine,' he said as they sped their way home.

'I know these people don't have to like me but I don't want them to judge me either. I made so many mistakes with our daughter.'

'Only Jason and Terry will know our full connection, unless you choose to share. They would never judge you. Are you worried about singing?'

Hélène laughed. 'Have I ever?'

The pair discussed the evening ahead. Vladimir, who had heard Hélène sing, asked if she would entertain the guests. They often had a musical evening at home but it would be a wonderful change of pace. 'You could sing anything,' he urged Hélène 'and either me or Philippe would accompany you. Would you take requests?'

Hélène laughed. 'I will sing ten songs from the artists of my home. I will take two requests.'

Philippe could have predicted that response. She had always said the same thing from their earliest days singing in clubs around Montreal.

Later that evening, the two men received their guests while the Canadian woman sat and smiled hoping that she could hold her own with what she perceived as a very sophisticated California crowd. As soon as Terry, Jason and Sandy arrived, the atmosphere changed. Terry's warm hug was reassuring but Sandy exuded an air of ownership, as if she was married to both men. Jason tried to run interference and keep her away from Vladimir but she was relentless in trying to learn more about the woman from Philippe's past.

Hélène, who was no stranger to controversy, put Jason out of his misery and made her way over to his controlling mother. Surprisingly, they seemed to get along well discussing children and family. 'We are almost from the same place,' declared Sandy who had no idea of the vast cultural difference between her and the French Canadian. Everyone winced at the comment but Sandy carried on unaware of how her behaviour affected everyone.

Dinner was served early. Sandy seemed to simmer down a little but picked at her food. It was clear that she had, at some point in her life, suffered from an eating disorder. Hélène knew that her nervous energy hid a very insecure personality. Empathy made her kinder to Sandy than she needed to be. She tried to spend a fair amount of time with everyone getting to know them. Of all the people present, Terry's father held her interest longer than anyone else. He was seated next to her at dinner. He was gracious, elegant and soft spoken. He treated her with the same courtesy as Philippe. His old world charm and manners drew her like a magnet. Before long their shared grief over the loss of a child drew them into an intimate conversation. Glances between Philippe and Terry included raised eyebrows and soft winks. Philippe hated Guy and legitimately despised his behaviour towards Helene. He wasn't sure what to make of Alejandro.

Marian arrived after dinner. She almost declined due to a previous engagement. She said little. Her mind was preoccupied with an urgent business matter. She cornered Terry for quite a while before introducing herself to Hélène. She also noted Alejandro's interest which left her nose slightly out of joint. The sun was setting when everyone moved to a patio area where another piano had been set up and a few other instruments were laid out. Philippe introduced Hélène as a petite singer with an extraordinary voice.

'We are lucky to have her with us. She has promised to sing a few songs and will take a couple of requests. All of you know Vladimir and I will be doing accompaniment but for those who are musically inclined, please choose your weapon and join in.'

The musicians in the group laughed but many of them felt honoured to add their talent to the surprisingly beautiful voice. The songs were decidedly Canadian, from Dion, Lang, Murray and Adams but most had been international hits. Everyone was asked to hold applause but it was impossible to listen without being moved by the voice. At the end of the ten songs, Hélène took a bow, thanked her fellow participants heartily and faced the audience to ask for two requests only. A small disagreement ensued between two of the guests but was soon settled when the guest of honour knew only one, well enough to sing. It was a surprising ballad from Kenny Loggins, For The first Time. When she was done Hélène looked directly at Alejandro, knowing that she wanted to sing for him.

'She is not Canadian but do you know the work of Edith Piaf?' he asked tentatively.

'She is French and lived for a time in my hometown. Of course I know her. Which of her songs appeals to you, Alejandro?'

They spoke in French, much to the chagrin of everyone except Philippe and Terry.

'Hymne a l'amour.'

The song was one of the most well known and loved from the 'little bird'. 'I hope I can do justice to her memory.'

Since she had been singing the songs of Piaf since childhood, Hélène had no problem performing her own beautiful haunting rendition. She avoided the vibrato which characterized Piaf's work but sounded lovely. More than a few tears were shed. Sandy, listened intently and knew that somewhere inside of her she felt a hollow, not by the specific words which were unknown but by the sound of a voice, whose pain could be felt in every note. A sob escaped her lips before she rose gracefully and sought a place of safety from uncharacteristic tears. Jason joined his mother, surprised to see her crying.

'What is it Mom? This is not like you at all.'

'Her sadness is so palpable. I can feel it. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose a child forever but for the first time, I regret taking you away from your father. How painful that must have been for you and for him. I was so selfish Jason. Can you ever forgive me?'

'Dad always told me that you did it because you loved me and you were scared. If he was understanding, I felt that I could be too. I tried.'

'He's a good man, son. I was angry because I had loved him so much.'

'I know and so does he. Maybe that's what connects you to Hélène. She loved Philippe too and kept the knowledge of his child from him until a few weeks ago.'

'My God! And, now that child is dead. How sad.'

'Jason, Sandy...is everything alright?'

Sandy turned at the sound of her name from Vladimir's lips. She went to him immediately, taking both his hands in hers and looking straight into his eyes. 'Can you ever forgive me Vlad? I was so foolish.'

'No, you were angry and had a right to be. I just didn't know which way to go but I couldn't continue.'

For the first time since he was a child, Jason saw his parents embrace as friends. He felt a little tearful himself. He left them alone and went back to the patio to reassure the others that all was well.

Everyone continued talking about Hélène's voice. Gradually the party moved in and out, separating and joining together until many of the guests felt tired. Only Jason, Terry, Sandy and Alejandro remained. They talked and talked until the conversation came around to the child, whose memory brought Hélène to California.

'Can you share more of her story with us?' asked Terry gently.

'I can...a little bit.' She talked about the delightful child who had grown into a teenager with the promise of a future, unfulfilled. So that there would be no false reassurances, she also spoke briefly about the runaway child, avoiding the reason for her leaving home. She added information about where Madeleine had gone and her place of death.

'My God!' exclaimed Sandy. 'Was that in 1984-85?'

At the confirmation head tilt from Hélène, Sandy shook her head.

'What do you know Sandy?' Hélène asked anxiously.

'My older brother was a trooper. He was there at that time. You know I am from upper New York State. He wrote me about that horrific event. He himself had a teenage son and felt so sorry for the grieving parents. Many of the children could not be identified although there were some who were able to get out during the first explosion, many were left behind. I am so sorry Hélène. It is a sadness none of us would ever want.'

'No. My only regret is that Philippe could not share her life. I cannot make up the loss to him now, but he will know her a little more through my memories, I hope.'

Philippe gave an approving nod. He didn't want Hélène to hold herself responsible. For the first time he commented on the tragedy. 'Hélène was good enough to keep many souvenirs from her life. I feel such a wonderful vibration of loving energy when I touch her things, especially a necklace I had given to her mother, which was passed on to her. If she is sending me a message, it is one of love.'

The evening ended on a happier note. Philippe talked about his plan to utilize Hélène's services with his latest protégé. 'Good luck!' everyone chimed in but after the musical performance they hoped Hélène would be able to effect some compromise between the young lady and her destiny.

At the door, Terry pulled Philippe aside. 'You know Phil, if you want to know what happened to your daughter in her final days, Jacob, Catherine's son will be able to help you. I sensed some unfinished business between the two of you which haunts your soul.'


Later that night, after everyone was asleep, Philippe rose from his bed. Restlessness drove him to the box which held his daughter's memories. He withdrew the necklace, went to the window overlooking the ocean and held it in his hand. The metal tingled where it rested along the lines of his fingers. 'Know that I would have loved you forever Madeleine,' he whispered into the night sky.

'Oui, je sais, Papa.'