Chapter Four: "... I look into the mirror and see your face..."
Anne's POV
Part Two
It was our second day in Los Angeles and already I thought I was going to melt into nothingness.
Our attempts at contacting Kal were fruitless. We couldn't even make it to his secretary's personal assistant without being hung up on. All day long we would dial and dial, but no luck. We even tried to find an event Kal could be attending, but it was unsuccessful.
I was feeling disappointed.
By the fifth night, I was packing my things away, including any hope that I would find my past. Tyler tried to talk sense to me, but I wanted nothing to do with sense. I just wanted to go home, and continue living the oblivious life I had been surviving with so far.
At six minutes past eleven o'clock in the evening, our motel door swung open without so much as a knock and I got my first look at Kal Langley.
"I don't care how you found me but stop following me. Stop trying to contact my secretary. And stop pestering her personal assistant." Kal stared right at me, a foul odor rising from the cigar in his mouth. I was taken by surprise and lost my voice for a moment. He was an older man, but probably nothing past sixty. He had a fragrance of arrogance that seemed impossible to cleanse the air from.
Tyler, always being the sensible one, stuck out his hand. "Hello, my name is Tyler-"
"I don't give a shit what your name is, kid," he spat. He scowled at Tyler's outreached hand. I felt offended by his behaviour, but on another odd level, I was intrigued.
"I-I'm Anne," I stuttered. "Anne Pifner."
Kal let out a bark of cruel laughter. "Pifner, huh?" He shook his head. "Poor kid." His eyes traveled up and down my body, and suddenly I felt very cold in the southern California climate. "Man, that bitch really fucked with your life."
"Excuse me?" I blurted.
Kal was about to sit down on the bed, but taking one look at the shape of the motel was in, he thought better. Crossing his arms, he told me, "Look, I know who you are. I know what you're looking for. But get lost." He shook his head. "I'll tell you the same thing I told the King years ago. You're better off not knowing."
Kal began to walk out the door, but I grabbed his arm fiercely. "I want answers," I growled. "Who is this King? What am I better of not knowing?"
Giving my hand a hard glare, Kal said in a low voice, "If you know what's good for you, kid, you'll take your hand off me right now."
I dropped my hand, but I continued to hold my stare. Swallowing, I tried a different tactic.
"Look, I'm just trying to find my past. You can understand that right?" I pleaded with him. "I just want to know who I am. Where I come from. Why I am..." I shifted my eyes. "Why I am the way I am."
"Oh, shit," Kal swore. "You don't even know what you are, do you?" Shaking his head, he looked almost sorrowful for me. Almost.
"Kal, please, I don't know anything. Tell me something, anything." I fought back my rising emotions. "All I know is that I woke up without a mother one morning. A mother I know nothing about." I clenched my fists. "No one even told me her name."
"That's rough, kid," he responded. Yet with his original arrogance, he added, "That would make a good movie. Thanks for the idea."
Tyler piped up again, "If you can't tell us of any important, then at least give us a name of someone who can."
Kal grimaced the moment Tyler opened his mouth. Looking at me, he nodded over at Tyler. "Who is this kid?"
Ignoring his question, I repeated Tyler's demand. "Give me a name, Kal."
"Fine," Kal spit out. "But then you leave me alone. You never bother me again. You forget all about me."
"Deal," I responded.
Kal threw his cigar on the carpet and stomped it out. "Elizabeth Parker. That's who you want to find."
"Who is she?" I blurted out.
"The bitch who ruined your life. If you ever wonder why you don't know about your past, blame her." Kal began to walk out, but he stopped. "For being the nice guy that I am, you might want to find Maria Deluca too." Smirking, he added, "If I were you, I'd ditch the Pifner thing and go back to Guerin. Good luck, kid." He left without another word.
Tyler came behind me, and I fell back into his embrace. I had two more puzzle pieces than I thought I would achieve.
"Guerin, huh?" Tyler repeated in question. "Anne Guerin."
I stared at the spot where Ka Langley had stood only seconds ago. "Is that really my name?" I thought out loud.
The weeks following our return home, our entire time was spent researching. Who was Maria Deluca? Who was Elizabeth Parker? Was I Anne Guerin? And what exactly did all these names mean to me? It was no longer a desire to know – it was an addiction. I had to know, I just had to.
Our research was slow going, without any plausible results. It wasn't until one night while Tyler was searching on the internet for information that we hit the jackpot. I was sitting at the kitchen table, sorting through mail and attempting to balance my checkbook.
"Man, I can not take any more days off," I muttered to myself. "I'm so broke."
Tyler coughed, and looked over at me. "I would take that back if I were you. I think I found what we've been looking for."
Furrowing my eyebrows, I came to Tyler's side, reading over his shoulder. He pointed to a newspaper article he had come across from New Mexico.
"Look here," he said. "It says that in 2003, six high school students from West Roswell High went missing after a mysterious happening at their graduation." Reading, he quoted, "'After much investigation, names were revealed of these missing students. Maria Deluca, Elizabeth Parker, Maxwell Evans, Isabel Ramirez, Kyle Valenti, and Michael Guerin.' It goes on to talk about how Elizabeth Parker's parents owned some restaurant. And look, there are pictures of some of them."
Bending over for a better look, I nearly fell over glancing over the pictures.
"Tyler..." I whispered brokenly.
His eyes were glued to Maria Deluca's pictures, just like mine were. "You look just like her." Turning to face me, he grabbed my hands. "You have to go to Roswell, Anne. This could be it. This could be what you're looking for."
Shaking my head, I replied, "I found their names, yeah, but they left Roswell. And that was years ago, I doubt anyone would know who they were." Rereading the names, I asked Tyler, "Do you think Isabel Ramirez was the same as my Isabel? I don't see a picture of her."
"I would think so," he replied. "It's too coincidental, all these names. You have to go, Anne. You have to."
"Tyler, even if I wanted to, I can't afford it."
Standing up, he pulled out his wallet and handed me three credit cards. "Take your pick, Anne, because at this point, more debt is not going to make a difference. But you're going, even if I have to book your ticket for you."
"Tyler..."
"No, Anne, you have to do this." He smiled at me, and wrapped his arm around me. "We've worked so hard and for so long to find this. Please don't give this up."
Gazing into his milky eyes, I blinked. "Will you go with me?"
Tyler kissed my cheek. "Not this time. I think I've gone as far as I should go with this. It's time for you to discover your past." Intertwining our fingers together, he gave me the softest smile. "But you can bet on me being here when you get back – no matter who you are."
So I left that weekend with my future with Tyler ahead of me. I just needed to find out what was behind me, so I could move on. Roswell, New Mexico was calling my name and that's where I headed.
Luckily, I found the quaint restaurant called the Crashdown Café on my first afternoon.
I sat nervously in the booth. The restaurant was quiet and empty, and the alien paraphernalia was beginning to freak me out. I felt like I had been sucked into an entirely different universe, but I knew deep down that I had to do this.
If not for me, then I had to do it for Tyler, for everything he'd done for me to get to where I was.
"Good afternoon, Miss," a handsome man addressed me. He stood before me in a ridiculous outfit, an order book poised in his hand. He seemed slightly older than I, and I vaguely recognized a New York accent. "What can I get for you today?"
Feeling a case of extreme dry mouth, I squeaked out, "Water for now please." The waiter dropped his hands, and rolled his eyes. Without any other acknowledgement, he moved to get me a glass.
When he returned with my water, I cleared my throat and spoke up.
"Excuse me." The waiter raised an eyebrow. "Do you know anyone by the name of Elizabeth Parker?" The man gave a half smile, and nodded.
"Sure, I do. She's the whole mystery behind this restaurant." I gave him an odd look, not understanding. The waiter took off the peculiar headband he was wearing for his uniform and sat across from me. "For almost fifty years, Jeff and Nancy Parker owned this restaurant before the current owner took over. Elizabeth, or rather Liz for short, was their daughter." I nodded, soaking in the information.
"You see, she used to work here when she was teenager. The story goes that one day at work, there was a shooting and she got hit. But there was no bullet. And Liz was fine. They say that someone healed her, a young man. Legend is that they fell in love. Very Romeo and Juliet, if you know what I mean." He smirked.
"All this funny stuff started happening around town for the next three years. She started hanging out with some shady characters, and by the time she graduated from high school, her and a couple of friends bolted, including that guy who healed her." He shrugged. "No one heard from them since."
Gulping, I nodded. "Do you know anyone who would know where she is?"
The waiter laughed. "Are you kidding me? Kid, she's just a fairy tale. Something to keep those hopeless romantics alive."
"What about the Parkers?" I asked desperately.
"Dead." The waiter stretched his arms. "The only guy who could give you more information would be my neighbour, Kyle Evans. He supposedly dated Liz once." He laughed to himself, and then checked the watch on his wrist. "He's usually out in the park around this time." He shook his head. "He's very nice, but be careful what you say to him. He's real fragile. He won't talk to just anyone."
Standing up, I gave the first genuine smile in years. Sticking out my hand, I told him, "Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name. I'm Anne."
Smiling, the man shook my hand and nodded. "It's Xan." Raising his eyebrow, he continued, "If you don't mind my asking, why are you looking for Liz Parker anyway?"
I paused, and took a deep breath. "I'm adopted, and she may be the only key to my past."
Nodding, Xan said to me, "Say no more. I'm adopted too. Good luck, Anne."
I waved to him as I ran out the door. Without thinking about it, I began running east as if I knew I was heading in the right direction. Before I could rethink my plan, I saw the bright colours of a play park looming before me. Pumping my legs harder, I ran to the park with all the energy I had left.
Stepping onto the play sand, I looked around for Kyle Evans. I felt foolish suddenly. It was ridiculous! I had no idea who this man was. I was beginning to realize I had many flaws in my plan.
"Anne Guerin," an elderly voice echoed behind me. Turning, I saw an older man sitting on a bench with a bag of breadcrumbs in his hand. His hair was wispy and silver, and the buttons on his shirt bulged slightly where his stomach rested.
"Please, Anne, sit down," he told me in a soft, grandfatherly voice.
Having a difficult time holding my tears, I asked him if he was Kyle Evans. He nodded his head, and reached out for my hand. Without hesitation, I put my hand in his and sat down beside him.
"You look just like Maria," he whispered. It sounded as if it was difficult for him to speak, but I was too desperate for what he had to tell me to care. He lifted my chin with his finger, and gave a smile. "You're a very pretty girl. You have her chin, and Michael's eyes. So fiery, so passionate – you most definitely have Michael's eyes."
"Michael?" I repeated shakily.
"Your father," he replied. Stunned, I sat with trails of tears on my cheeks.
"You know my father?" I cried. Kyle bowed his head, and squeezed my hand gently.
"I knew your father." The impact hit me between the shoulders, and I literally fell back against the bench. I had always thought it was possible... but now it was for real.
"How did you know my parents? Who is Liz Parker? Where is she?" I demanded, suddenly angry. Why did this man have all the answers and all I was left with was... Michael's eyes? Who and where was this woman that Kal had told me was so awful, so despicable? Why was she the key to everything?
Kyle gave a loud, rustling cough, and I immediately regretted being so forceful. He was giving me answers to everything I've ever wanted to know. He had no reason to do so, and I should have treated him with respect.
"I read everything they said about Liz in the papers," Kyle told me. He patted my knee. "She wasn't the cruel person people thought she was. She was just misguided. Broken." He gave me a sad look. "She had a very tough life."
My feelings for this Liz character began to mix around inside, and I became unsure of what she was to me. With the last of my dignity, I uttered, "She was all I had and she left me."
Kyle shook his head. "She was never with you, Anne. Liz loved you, but she was broken in here." He pointed to his chest. "And she had no room for anything else. But she did love you. We all did."
"You act like she's..." I trailed off, not wanting to make it vocal.
"She is," Kyle confirmed. "But Liz is in a much better place now."
I looked deep into Kyle's eyes, trying to find something that could make me walk away from all this. But I found nothing. So I took his hands in mine, and gave him the only smile I could.
"Please, Kyle, tell me everything. From the beginning. I need to know."
He nodded, and gave my hands a squeeze.
"It all started when a young man loved a young girl..."
Anne's POV
Part Two
It was our second day in Los Angeles and already I thought I was going to melt into nothingness.
Our attempts at contacting Kal were fruitless. We couldn't even make it to his secretary's personal assistant without being hung up on. All day long we would dial and dial, but no luck. We even tried to find an event Kal could be attending, but it was unsuccessful.
I was feeling disappointed.
By the fifth night, I was packing my things away, including any hope that I would find my past. Tyler tried to talk sense to me, but I wanted nothing to do with sense. I just wanted to go home, and continue living the oblivious life I had been surviving with so far.
At six minutes past eleven o'clock in the evening, our motel door swung open without so much as a knock and I got my first look at Kal Langley.
"I don't care how you found me but stop following me. Stop trying to contact my secretary. And stop pestering her personal assistant." Kal stared right at me, a foul odor rising from the cigar in his mouth. I was taken by surprise and lost my voice for a moment. He was an older man, but probably nothing past sixty. He had a fragrance of arrogance that seemed impossible to cleanse the air from.
Tyler, always being the sensible one, stuck out his hand. "Hello, my name is Tyler-"
"I don't give a shit what your name is, kid," he spat. He scowled at Tyler's outreached hand. I felt offended by his behaviour, but on another odd level, I was intrigued.
"I-I'm Anne," I stuttered. "Anne Pifner."
Kal let out a bark of cruel laughter. "Pifner, huh?" He shook his head. "Poor kid." His eyes traveled up and down my body, and suddenly I felt very cold in the southern California climate. "Man, that bitch really fucked with your life."
"Excuse me?" I blurted.
Kal was about to sit down on the bed, but taking one look at the shape of the motel was in, he thought better. Crossing his arms, he told me, "Look, I know who you are. I know what you're looking for. But get lost." He shook his head. "I'll tell you the same thing I told the King years ago. You're better off not knowing."
Kal began to walk out the door, but I grabbed his arm fiercely. "I want answers," I growled. "Who is this King? What am I better of not knowing?"
Giving my hand a hard glare, Kal said in a low voice, "If you know what's good for you, kid, you'll take your hand off me right now."
I dropped my hand, but I continued to hold my stare. Swallowing, I tried a different tactic.
"Look, I'm just trying to find my past. You can understand that right?" I pleaded with him. "I just want to know who I am. Where I come from. Why I am..." I shifted my eyes. "Why I am the way I am."
"Oh, shit," Kal swore. "You don't even know what you are, do you?" Shaking his head, he looked almost sorrowful for me. Almost.
"Kal, please, I don't know anything. Tell me something, anything." I fought back my rising emotions. "All I know is that I woke up without a mother one morning. A mother I know nothing about." I clenched my fists. "No one even told me her name."
"That's rough, kid," he responded. Yet with his original arrogance, he added, "That would make a good movie. Thanks for the idea."
Tyler piped up again, "If you can't tell us of any important, then at least give us a name of someone who can."
Kal grimaced the moment Tyler opened his mouth. Looking at me, he nodded over at Tyler. "Who is this kid?"
Ignoring his question, I repeated Tyler's demand. "Give me a name, Kal."
"Fine," Kal spit out. "But then you leave me alone. You never bother me again. You forget all about me."
"Deal," I responded.
Kal threw his cigar on the carpet and stomped it out. "Elizabeth Parker. That's who you want to find."
"Who is she?" I blurted out.
"The bitch who ruined your life. If you ever wonder why you don't know about your past, blame her." Kal began to walk out, but he stopped. "For being the nice guy that I am, you might want to find Maria Deluca too." Smirking, he added, "If I were you, I'd ditch the Pifner thing and go back to Guerin. Good luck, kid." He left without another word.
Tyler came behind me, and I fell back into his embrace. I had two more puzzle pieces than I thought I would achieve.
"Guerin, huh?" Tyler repeated in question. "Anne Guerin."
I stared at the spot where Ka Langley had stood only seconds ago. "Is that really my name?" I thought out loud.
The weeks following our return home, our entire time was spent researching. Who was Maria Deluca? Who was Elizabeth Parker? Was I Anne Guerin? And what exactly did all these names mean to me? It was no longer a desire to know – it was an addiction. I had to know, I just had to.
Our research was slow going, without any plausible results. It wasn't until one night while Tyler was searching on the internet for information that we hit the jackpot. I was sitting at the kitchen table, sorting through mail and attempting to balance my checkbook.
"Man, I can not take any more days off," I muttered to myself. "I'm so broke."
Tyler coughed, and looked over at me. "I would take that back if I were you. I think I found what we've been looking for."
Furrowing my eyebrows, I came to Tyler's side, reading over his shoulder. He pointed to a newspaper article he had come across from New Mexico.
"Look here," he said. "It says that in 2003, six high school students from West Roswell High went missing after a mysterious happening at their graduation." Reading, he quoted, "'After much investigation, names were revealed of these missing students. Maria Deluca, Elizabeth Parker, Maxwell Evans, Isabel Ramirez, Kyle Valenti, and Michael Guerin.' It goes on to talk about how Elizabeth Parker's parents owned some restaurant. And look, there are pictures of some of them."
Bending over for a better look, I nearly fell over glancing over the pictures.
"Tyler..." I whispered brokenly.
His eyes were glued to Maria Deluca's pictures, just like mine were. "You look just like her." Turning to face me, he grabbed my hands. "You have to go to Roswell, Anne. This could be it. This could be what you're looking for."
Shaking my head, I replied, "I found their names, yeah, but they left Roswell. And that was years ago, I doubt anyone would know who they were." Rereading the names, I asked Tyler, "Do you think Isabel Ramirez was the same as my Isabel? I don't see a picture of her."
"I would think so," he replied. "It's too coincidental, all these names. You have to go, Anne. You have to."
"Tyler, even if I wanted to, I can't afford it."
Standing up, he pulled out his wallet and handed me three credit cards. "Take your pick, Anne, because at this point, more debt is not going to make a difference. But you're going, even if I have to book your ticket for you."
"Tyler..."
"No, Anne, you have to do this." He smiled at me, and wrapped his arm around me. "We've worked so hard and for so long to find this. Please don't give this up."
Gazing into his milky eyes, I blinked. "Will you go with me?"
Tyler kissed my cheek. "Not this time. I think I've gone as far as I should go with this. It's time for you to discover your past." Intertwining our fingers together, he gave me the softest smile. "But you can bet on me being here when you get back – no matter who you are."
So I left that weekend with my future with Tyler ahead of me. I just needed to find out what was behind me, so I could move on. Roswell, New Mexico was calling my name and that's where I headed.
Luckily, I found the quaint restaurant called the Crashdown Café on my first afternoon.
I sat nervously in the booth. The restaurant was quiet and empty, and the alien paraphernalia was beginning to freak me out. I felt like I had been sucked into an entirely different universe, but I knew deep down that I had to do this.
If not for me, then I had to do it for Tyler, for everything he'd done for me to get to where I was.
"Good afternoon, Miss," a handsome man addressed me. He stood before me in a ridiculous outfit, an order book poised in his hand. He seemed slightly older than I, and I vaguely recognized a New York accent. "What can I get for you today?"
Feeling a case of extreme dry mouth, I squeaked out, "Water for now please." The waiter dropped his hands, and rolled his eyes. Without any other acknowledgement, he moved to get me a glass.
When he returned with my water, I cleared my throat and spoke up.
"Excuse me." The waiter raised an eyebrow. "Do you know anyone by the name of Elizabeth Parker?" The man gave a half smile, and nodded.
"Sure, I do. She's the whole mystery behind this restaurant." I gave him an odd look, not understanding. The waiter took off the peculiar headband he was wearing for his uniform and sat across from me. "For almost fifty years, Jeff and Nancy Parker owned this restaurant before the current owner took over. Elizabeth, or rather Liz for short, was their daughter." I nodded, soaking in the information.
"You see, she used to work here when she was teenager. The story goes that one day at work, there was a shooting and she got hit. But there was no bullet. And Liz was fine. They say that someone healed her, a young man. Legend is that they fell in love. Very Romeo and Juliet, if you know what I mean." He smirked.
"All this funny stuff started happening around town for the next three years. She started hanging out with some shady characters, and by the time she graduated from high school, her and a couple of friends bolted, including that guy who healed her." He shrugged. "No one heard from them since."
Gulping, I nodded. "Do you know anyone who would know where she is?"
The waiter laughed. "Are you kidding me? Kid, she's just a fairy tale. Something to keep those hopeless romantics alive."
"What about the Parkers?" I asked desperately.
"Dead." The waiter stretched his arms. "The only guy who could give you more information would be my neighbour, Kyle Evans. He supposedly dated Liz once." He laughed to himself, and then checked the watch on his wrist. "He's usually out in the park around this time." He shook his head. "He's very nice, but be careful what you say to him. He's real fragile. He won't talk to just anyone."
Standing up, I gave the first genuine smile in years. Sticking out my hand, I told him, "Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name. I'm Anne."
Smiling, the man shook my hand and nodded. "It's Xan." Raising his eyebrow, he continued, "If you don't mind my asking, why are you looking for Liz Parker anyway?"
I paused, and took a deep breath. "I'm adopted, and she may be the only key to my past."
Nodding, Xan said to me, "Say no more. I'm adopted too. Good luck, Anne."
I waved to him as I ran out the door. Without thinking about it, I began running east as if I knew I was heading in the right direction. Before I could rethink my plan, I saw the bright colours of a play park looming before me. Pumping my legs harder, I ran to the park with all the energy I had left.
Stepping onto the play sand, I looked around for Kyle Evans. I felt foolish suddenly. It was ridiculous! I had no idea who this man was. I was beginning to realize I had many flaws in my plan.
"Anne Guerin," an elderly voice echoed behind me. Turning, I saw an older man sitting on a bench with a bag of breadcrumbs in his hand. His hair was wispy and silver, and the buttons on his shirt bulged slightly where his stomach rested.
"Please, Anne, sit down," he told me in a soft, grandfatherly voice.
Having a difficult time holding my tears, I asked him if he was Kyle Evans. He nodded his head, and reached out for my hand. Without hesitation, I put my hand in his and sat down beside him.
"You look just like Maria," he whispered. It sounded as if it was difficult for him to speak, but I was too desperate for what he had to tell me to care. He lifted my chin with his finger, and gave a smile. "You're a very pretty girl. You have her chin, and Michael's eyes. So fiery, so passionate – you most definitely have Michael's eyes."
"Michael?" I repeated shakily.
"Your father," he replied. Stunned, I sat with trails of tears on my cheeks.
"You know my father?" I cried. Kyle bowed his head, and squeezed my hand gently.
"I knew your father." The impact hit me between the shoulders, and I literally fell back against the bench. I had always thought it was possible... but now it was for real.
"How did you know my parents? Who is Liz Parker? Where is she?" I demanded, suddenly angry. Why did this man have all the answers and all I was left with was... Michael's eyes? Who and where was this woman that Kal had told me was so awful, so despicable? Why was she the key to everything?
Kyle gave a loud, rustling cough, and I immediately regretted being so forceful. He was giving me answers to everything I've ever wanted to know. He had no reason to do so, and I should have treated him with respect.
"I read everything they said about Liz in the papers," Kyle told me. He patted my knee. "She wasn't the cruel person people thought she was. She was just misguided. Broken." He gave me a sad look. "She had a very tough life."
My feelings for this Liz character began to mix around inside, and I became unsure of what she was to me. With the last of my dignity, I uttered, "She was all I had and she left me."
Kyle shook his head. "She was never with you, Anne. Liz loved you, but she was broken in here." He pointed to his chest. "And she had no room for anything else. But she did love you. We all did."
"You act like she's..." I trailed off, not wanting to make it vocal.
"She is," Kyle confirmed. "But Liz is in a much better place now."
I looked deep into Kyle's eyes, trying to find something that could make me walk away from all this. But I found nothing. So I took his hands in mine, and gave him the only smile I could.
"Please, Kyle, tell me everything. From the beginning. I need to know."
He nodded, and gave my hands a squeeze.
"It all started when a young man loved a young girl..."