Chapter 26

Charles slowly followed his companion up the stairs, leading her towards his room, hesitating for a brief moment before turning on the lights, as though the darkness might conceal his history, at least for the time being. But to his disappointment, her patience had come to a standstill and with the silent flick of a switch the room was flooded with artificial lighting.

"Well?" she prodded, seating herself on the bed, crossing her legs and clasping her hands around her knee firmly.

He loitered in the doorway, his eyes closed, making one last attempt to create some sort of distraction that would lead her away from her upcoming discovery. "Maybe we could have a drink first-"

"No. Now," she insisted.

His eyes widened, he made one last gesture of frustration before crossing to the vanity, where he located a small wooden box. "Here's your truth," he said miserably, carelessly tossing the box onto the bed next to her.

She glanced up at him, puzzled. Placing the box on her lap, she carefully lifted the cover and reached into it, pulling out a large stack of papers. She stared up at him, furrowing an eyebrow. "This?" she asked, lifting the papers. "This is your secret?"

"Well, read through it, dear!" he demanded impatiently, shuffling through his suitcase.

She promptly did as she was directed, only partially paying attention at first (for his constant movement as he rifled through his suitcase proved to be a rather irritating distraction), but she was soon engrossed in her reading material. After what seemed to be the longest half-hour of Charles Oakley's (or rather, Charles Osborne's) life, she lifted her eyes from the papers and gazed at him in amazement, unable to find the words she yearned to speak.

"How long…" she began in a hoarse whisper. "How long have you known about…" Her words trailed off as she gently pointed towards the papers on her lap.

"Several weeks maybe," he murmured, now emptying the suitcase's contents onto the floor.

"Why on earth wouldn't you tell me about this?" she asked, still staring at him with astonishment.

"I hardly thought that you would wish to know," he stated. "After all that happened…"

"Well, don't you see?" she began excitedly. He glanced up at her, surprised to see a sweet smile on her soft features. "This doesn't make it worse. It makes it better. Don't you understand? Now it all makes sense. There's nothing wrong with us at all!"

"I wouldn't say that, dear," he said with a dry smile.

"All right. Perhaps that's not completely accurate. But at least we know why we feel- that is…" She took a deep breath, hoping that perhaps he hadn't heard her. Unfortunately, his eyes quickly turned to her, obviously startled.

"Feel what, Charlie?" he asked, no longer caring if she heard the intensity in his voice.

"No. I didn't mean that." Charlie was willing to admit to being a rather horrendous liar. "Well, it explains why we didn't have any scruples against… well… you know. That is, when we weren't… quite ourselves."

"Charlie, I'm very tired, to say the least. Don't speak in a code. Just tell me once and for all… You know, I wouldn't have allowed you to see any of this if it weren't for…" His heart racing, he lifted himself from his knees and moved towards her. "Charlie, do you care about me or not?"

She stared up at him almost frightened to hear what words might leave her lips. "Well… Of course I care for you."

"How so?"

She desperately wished that he wouldn't ask her such blunt questions. "I… don't know what you-"

"Am I your dear Uncle Charlie or am I… something more? Something entirely different. That's all I want to know."

"Oh…" She lifted herself from the bed, allowing the papers to scatter across the floor, and crossed to him slowly. "I think you know the answer to that question. But think about it. I'm just now finally getting to know you! We've always had this deep bond, you and I. Clearly it's not because of genetics. It's something else. But how can I really answer these types of questions until I learn about you?"

"And how are you planning on learning about me?" he asked, grinning warmly.

"Well…" Her eyes drifted towards the box on the bed. She smiled brightly, hardly even aware that he had discreetly wrapped his arms around her waist. "Well this is how, of course!" To his disappointment, she quickly pulled away and crossed to the box, lifting it excitedly. "There's plenty of information about you in this. Have you read any of it yet?"

"No I haven't. I only read what was on the top of the stack."

"Oh," she mumbled disapprovingly. "Well, it's your history, after all. I'd think you would want to know about it."

"You know, you're taking this news much more calmly than I did," he observed, returning his attention to the suitcase.

"Well, it's just that…" She immediately lost her train of thought as she watched him persistently shuffling through the suitcase. "What are you looking for?" she asked, finally becoming annoyed.

He briefly glanced up. "I'm led to believe that your devilish little sister stole my flask."

"Your flask?" she repeated, slowly dropping to her knees in order to assist him in his search. "Why would she do a thing like that?"

"You're questioning the motives of that sadistic little creature? I wouldn't delve into anything quite so warped and hideous if I were you, Charlie. My guess is that she did it because she knew it would agitate me. That seems to be her common motive for acting."

After several minutes of searching, Charlie struggled to her feet. "Never mind about the flask. Why do you need it so badly? You've no reason to be nervous. Not about this, anyway. I'm glad you've told me the truth. I feel as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. And don't you see what this means?" She took hold of his arm and gently pulled him from the suitcase onto his feet. "This means that we can finally understand who you are… why you feel the way you do…"

"Oh Charlie!" he exclaimed with a cynical scoff. "You really think that a full analysis and explanation of why I am the man that I am today could be found in a little box your sister found in the attic?"

"Well, maybe not. But it certainly might answer a few questions. Wait…" She fixed her gaze on him, suddenly taken aback. "My sister? You mean… Ann found this? Why would Ann be-"

"She found it by accident. Apparently Emmy had it all this time. It's hard to believe that Emmy was able to keep a secret like this… She'd still be keeping it if it weren't for Ann…" He gazed ahead of him, hardly even aware of Charlie's presence as he spoke.

"As far as she knows, she is still keeping it."

His attention quickly returned to her. He grinned in his familiar, charming way, gently pulling her towards him. "Now it's our secret, dear."

"One that I'll always keep, if you'd like." She slowly clasped her hands behind his neck.

"Charlie…" He hesitated, not entirely certain if he should continue with his inquiry. "If events had been different… If I had never… revealed myself as a… that is, if you had never discovered the truth about me…"

"I assume you're referring to the events of two years ago."

"Yes… Imagine if we had just met… If the Oakleys had never adopted me. Do you think that we would have ever been able to…"

"I understand what you're asking me. And… Yes, we would have been able to… you know. After all, we've never had a typical relationship, have we? I've called you my uncle, but the truth is… You're closer to me than any uncle I could ever hope for. I never really understood why we were so close… And now I think I might be able to."

"Remember… the answer to our problems can't be found in a wooden box."

"Maybe not… But isn't it worth our time to at least look?" She couldn't tell if he was actually listening to her. He ran his fingers through her hair and leaned in towards her. "Come on! Let's at least start reading," she said promptly, rapidly pulling from his embrace and returning her attention to the box. She emptied the papers onto the floor and once again dropped to her knees. "Well, come on!" she prompted, gesturing towards the floor next to her. Reluctantly he situated himself on the floor and began to flip through several papers that she had placed before him.

It took Charlie several hours before she had finished meticulously reading through each page of her stack. When she had finished, she smiled with delight. "Unc- I mean… Charles… Listen to this. It's very interesting. Though I suppose you might not find it to be very thrilling. After all, they were your parents. But it turns out your father had abandoned your mother shortly after she informed him that she was going to have a baby. Apparently she was emotionally fragile to begin with… but when he abandoned her, it sent her off the edge. She wasn't married to him and… I suppose the pressure was just too much for her. Anyway, she ended up in a mental institution for temporary treatment and after you were born, she was sent to a sanitarium for an indefinite amount of time. They never could find your father. But you were quickly moved to an orphanage in California. When you were three years of age, the Oakleys adopted you. That was in… 1908. I found all of this in the report attached to several adoption papers. And listen to this… It's from Grandmother's old diary… At that point in time, she already had healthy children, but she couldn't have any more. That's why she insisted on adopting you. It says here that, though you were a dear child, within a matter of weeks, she began to realize that perhaps there was something… peculiar about you. And after your bicycle accident… Well, don't you see? And you told me I wouldn't find anything in this box. It's practically filled with valuable information. And it explains so much about why you behave… the way that you do. It might be genetic. After all, your mother was declared insane. Maybe now that you know this, it will help you understand why it is that you feel certain ways about… Well, you know. Anyway, you have to admit, I was right. Isn't it just fascinating, Uncl- I mean, Charles?" After a brief silent moment, Charlie glanced up, surprised. "Charles?" She fixed her eyes on him, only now realizing that he had drifted into what appeared to be a very deep sleep. It was the most peaceful she had seen him since he arrived… Truthfully, it was the most peaceful she had ever seen him. Though she couldn't help but feel a little frustrated that he was showing so little interest in his own past, she didn't blame him for sleeping. If he could suddenly sleep now, after two years of being plagued with insomnia, something must have changed for him. And as she stared down at his hand, with was gently encompassing her own, she was suddenly aware of what might have caused this fortunate change.

All of a sudden, she became aware of her own fatigue. Not feeling motivated to stand and move to Ann's room, she quietly slouched from her stiff position and leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyelids becoming heavier with every passing second. She did not reopen her eyes until she was accosted with bright rays of morning sunlight streaming in from her window.