Chapter 12
At the cottage, the clock chimed and the phone rang at the same time. William noticed the clock read 10 a.m. as he picked up the receiver.
"Hello . . . Yes sir, I understand, right away. Good-bye." Turning around to get his sunglasses, coat and cap the phone rang again.
"Hello . . . DAD! It's great to hear from you. Yes, everything is fine. No, I have been very careful. Yes, it still bothers me a little but I try to limit my time as much as possible. I know, dad, you tell me that every time we talk. I am very careful. Yes, I have them right here. Look, I do not mean to be rude but I just received a call from Mr. Collins to go pick up two fares and drive them to Collinwood for Sunday brunch. No, I have not met them yet but I recognize one name. . . . Barnabas Collins."
After a long silence, William got concerned. "Dad, are you still there? Ok, I understand, I have to go too. Talk to you later. Yeah, I love you too and tell mom hi and I love her. Ok, bye."
William looked at his watch, grabbed his sunglasses, coat and cap as he walked towards the door. Stopping short of opening the door, he put the items on before going out into the sun.
While driving to the Old House, William thought about Anita and her injury. He had seen those marks before, long ago and asked his dad about them. He remembered the conversation like it was yesterday, although he was only twelve years old at the time.
"Dad, what is that on your wrist?" asked young William.
"Nothin', it's just a scar, William," Willie replies. He held up his baseball mitt and said, "Ok, throw as hard as ya can, son."
"You always say that, dad," William said, ignoring the instructions to play ball. "It looks like a war wound or something," he remarked excitedly, hoping for some exhilarating story. "Tell me how you got it, please?"
"It's really nothin', son, honest."
William saw his dad's lip quiver slightly, and then acted nervous. "Dad, you ok?"
"Yea, of course I am. Let's drop these questions. I don't want to talk about it," and the conversation always ended the same. "If ya don't want to play catch anymore, I'm goin' in the house." Then William would stand there perplexed, as he watched his father go into the house, wondering what he said wrong.
At the Old House, Barnabas and Max were discussing how they planned to transport him during the day to Collinwood. Barnabas was having a difficult time concentrating with the splitting headache he had since last night. He tried to get answers from Maeve to no avail.
"Huh?" Barnabas held his head hearing only bits and pieces of the conversation.
"Barnabas! Haven't you heard anything I said?"
"Maeve, I trust you," Barnabas confessed, "anything you do will be ok with me." Just then, there was a knock at the front door. Surprised at having any visitors, Maeve walked to the door and opened it.
"Yes?" She faced a young man, wearing dark sunglasses, an overcoat and a cap.
"Yes, ma'am, I am here to drive you and Mr. Collins to Collinwood. Mr. David Collins requests your fellowship for Sunday brunch," the young man bowed.
"Please come in," Maeve stood aside as the young man entered. She watched him, thinking he seemed familiar and then followed him into the drawing room. The man walked up to Barnabas, who was sitting in front of the fireplace. Looking up, the man stared at the portrait and then looked at Barnabas. Removing his sunglasses and cap, the man came closer and introduced himself. Barnabas' mouth dropped open.
"Hello sir, you must be Mr. Barnabas Collins. I am William Loomis, the Collins' chauffeur." William walked up to Barnabas and extended his hand. Barnabas stood and held out his hand, staring at the young man that resembled Willie when he was younger. "Are you ok, sir?" William asked puzzled by Barnabas' stare.
"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, finally blinking. "Excuse me for a moment. I have to get my coat. I'll be right back." Barnabas walked past William and frowned at Maeve as he passed her.
Understanding Barnabas' expression, Maeve addressed the young man. "Mr. Loomis."
"Yes ma'am?" William stopped staring at the portrait and turned to face Maeve.
"Mr. Collins has a rare photosensitive disease that prevents him from being exposed to sunlight. It is imperative that we prevent any sunrays from touching any part of his body. Can you help us?"
"Yes, ma'am. I have heard of people with this condition. I know just what to do."
At Collinwood, the grandfather clock displayed eleven o'clock. Carolyn and Roger were strolling down the staircase just in time to see William Loomis dash through the front door into the foyer. Right after him rushed in a woman holding a figure covered head to toe with a silver canopy. As Carolyn and Roger reach the bottom landing, the woman removed the covering to reveal a man shaking his head and straightening his clothes. The woman handed the covering to William who retreated through the door under the stairs to the kitchen. The woman was busy scrutinizing the man's appearance but stopped when she saw Carolyn and Roger standing nearby.
"Barnabas!" chuckled Roger, "and Julia. It's so good to see you up and about. Is it raining?" Roger moved towards the man but Carolyn grabbed his shirt and held him back.
"I am so sorry for my uncle's confusion," Carolyn said looking at the man and woman. Carolyn looked at the man again and said, "But I can see why my uncle has confused you for our cousin, Barnabas."