Chapter VI

All things considered, I probably should have thought my decision through a little more before signing those papers. Still, it was hard to pass up such an opportunity. And I think it's what my parents would have wanted.

I had to admit that while I was still constantly worried about being found, I was happier than I had been in a long time. Crane – no, Jonathan – treated me very well, like a person rather than an experiment. He understood me better than anyone else, probably because his research had helped to shape my existence. I still wondered from time to time whether he was doing this for me to make amends, but I found that I didn't care anymore. I had a family again.

To anyone who needed to know, I was Jonathan's sister's daughter whom he had adopted after she and her husband died in a tragic automobile accident. I called him "Uncle Johnny" in my mind until one day it accidentally slipped out. While Jonathan was surprised, he smiled at the name and I addressed him as such more often, though he seemed too young to be an uncle at only twenty-seven (though in all fairness, I met a girl once who was fifteen and had a twenty-nine-year-old niece). Jonathan treated me like his own daughter, buying me nice clothes and jewelry to wear, covering the surfaces in my bedroom with knickknacks and things, and filling my shelves with books. I could never get enough books. Often when Jonathan returned from the asylum he'd find me curled up in an armchair in the library surrounded by books. Sometimes, when he had time to spare, he'd sit with me and one of us would read aloud from one of his or my books. I discovered a book of Tennyson poems that I often read from. "The Lady of Shalott" was always one of my favourites. My mother had used to read it to me. I liked to think that she would be happy for me now.

I must say that I quickly became used to being spoiled a bit. Anything I needed, or that Jonathan thought I wanted, I would have without delay. It almost seemed like Jonathan was compensating for something. He did seem very secretive, and was spending more and more late nights at the asylum without any explanation. I was confused, as he was usually so open with me, but I decided not to press the subject, feeling that he would have his own reasons for acting in this manner.

Actually, that may have led to all those later problems…

Something that endeared him to me forever, though, was that he called the motel where I had stayed the night of my escape and asked to know if anyone had gone into Room 13, the room where I had slept. It turned out that the maid had somehow missed the "Do Not Disturb" sign and gone in while I was sleeping. She was the one who had moved me and taken off my sneakers. Maternal instinct, she called it. I should have known, really. If They had found me, They wouldn't have left me alone there. I would have woken up back in the lab where I had been born and experimented on. Still, I felt safer knowing for sure that They hadn't found me quite yet. I was still safe for now, and so was Jonathan. Looking back now, I suppose that I should have known better than to get comfortable. But I just couldn't help it. I wanted to pretend that I could finally stop worrying. I wanted to believe that I could relax and let my guard down at last. The façade I lived under for so long was wearing me out, and I just wanted to drop it. Still, it was nice while it lasted.

"Another late night?"

This was the third week of my living with Jonathan as his daughter, and he was going out to Arkham again without an explanation.

"I'm very sorry Sirena, but I have a lot of work to do that I can only do at the asylum," said Jonathan heavily. "I wish that I didn't have all of this to do, but that's what comes from being the head of the asylum. I promise that this won't last, though. Soon I'll have more time for you. Maybe we can go to New York and see a musical. "Phantom of the Opera", perhaps? I know that's your favourite. Would you like that?"

"Of course I'd like that," I answered, "but not if you're trying to buy me off. Everything you've given me, everything you've done for me…I don't want it if it's only a payoff of some kind."

"God no!" said Jonathan in surprise. "What would give you an idea like that?"

"Every time you have one of these late nights you buy me something or offer me something," I said. "I'm just starting to wonder why."

"Because I care about you," replied Jonathan. He hesitated for a moment before saying something I couldn't catch under his breath.

"I can't hear you," I said. "What did you say?"

"I said, I love you," he said, his ears turning quite red, unable to look into my eyes. I was startled. This I had not expected. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I just didn't know how it would sound. When I was at your parents' wedding, your mother told me that if she was to have children and then something should happen to her and Adrik, they wanted me to care for those children. You are their child. You are exactly how I would have imagined my own daughter to be if ever I were to have one. I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I never expected the project to be put into action. If I had known, I would never have condoned the experiment. I know that your parents felt the same way. It was written into their wills that I should care for their children, but somehow I believe their wills were conveniently lost after their tragic deaths."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. All this time, all I had wanted was someone to love me again. I never believed that they would. I remembered my parents often talking about a friend of theirs, Jonathan, but I never knew his last name. They must have been talking about Dr. Crane. How many times had Mom said, "Oh sweetie, Johnny would have loved you"? She had been right. And I realized that I loved him too. He had been there for me when I needed him most, comforted and cared for me when I had no one else. A lump rose in my throat. How could I ever have cared about him staying late at the asylum? He still came home to me at the end of the day, even if he did have to go back out again later. He always came home to see me first. I couldn't speak, but I smiled at Jonathan, hoping he'd understand. He smiled back and kissed the side of my head.

"You look so much like your mother," he told me.

"They talked about you a lot," I said softly. "I didn't know it was you then, but now I do. Mom used to say I was a lot like you."

"I think I may have added some of myself into your…ah, programming when I worked on the project," Jonathan admitted. I laughed.

"Well, I'm glad of it," I said. "And I don't care how late you stay at the asylum as long as you come home to me. Whatever you have to do, I'll understand. I won't keep you here."

"I wish you would," said Jonathan. "Just once in a while. I'd rather stay here with you than spend my nights listening to the crazies in my asylum."

"Listening to them was the only thing that was comforting to me while I was there," I replied. At Jonathan's startled expression, I explained, "At least then I knew that someone was suffering more than I." Jonathan nodded, understanding.

"I'd just like to know," he said, "why you chose Renfield's Syndrome?"

"Because I like "Dracula"," I replied. "That, and I know more about Renfield's Syndrome than any other mental illness. I knew I'd be able to convincingly act like I had it until I was committed."

"I see," said Jonathan musingly. "So horror stories don't frighten you?"

"Not at all," I answered. "One person's nightmare is another person's dream, and that other person is me."

"So what does scare you?" asked Jonathan.

"I don't know." I was quiet for a moment, pondering. What did scare me? I was never afraid of the dark, or monsters under my bed or in my closet. The only monsters that ever scared me were flesh and blood and as real as Jonathan standing before me. They were the monsters who had pumped me full of experimental drugs and chemicals and filled my days with agony until a knife showed me the way to be free. I wasn't afraid of them anymore. I wasn't afraid to kill. So what was I afraid of? I decided I was better off not knowing. "You should probably get going. You don't want to waste any more of the night here that you could be using at the asylum working on your experiments."

"Yes, you're right," said Jonathan, picking up his briefcase. "The sooner I finish with this, the sooner we'll have more time together. I'll see about that trip to New York, I promise." I smiled, and then got an idea.

"Wait." I rose, setting aside my book, and approached him. I hesitated for a moment, then embraced him lovingly. I could feel his surprise, but he smiled and put his arms around me.

"I love you, Sirena," he said gently.

"I love you too, Uncle Johnny," I replied. We pulled apart and I smiled. "I'll see you later tonight, then." He smiled back and I walked him to the door and watched him leave. I wished I could at least go with him, maybe help him with these experiments of his so he could finish faster. Well, I suppose childish innocence is something I could have done without in my programming…