Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Alex handed Luke the map, "I say we keep this quiet for now." He and James both nodded in agreement. Opening up the journal, she looked at her mother's notes. The coordinates that were hidden behind the painting seemed to fit into the code somehow. She would be busy on the trip to Norway.
He attention then went to the sealed letters. There were about a dozen of them, correspondences written by her mother to her father. For sixteen years they sat hidden, forgotten. Without saying a word, she shoved them into her bag. There was no time to think about them now.
Alex went to the bathroom and turned on the water and splashed water on the face. She would have a bruise where Sam Collins slapped her, and her lip was swollen, but the cut was not to terrible. A knock sounded on the door and the maid that Alex had met briefly on her first morning here entered. The woman was about 50 years old. She spoke to both Luke and James in a nervous and hushed tone. Glancing into the bedroom, she saw Luke pat her shoulder and nod. In the next instant, he was gone.
The maid quickly made her way into the bathroom. "You poor dear," were her first words.
"Who are you?" Alex asked.
"Victoria Winston," the woman answered, kindly wiping the blood from Alex's mouth. "And dare I say, you look just like your mother? Well except your eyes, those are you father's for certain."
"You knew my mother?" Alex questioned.
"But of course, child." Victoria continued, "Elizabeth and I were great friends. We worked together. She was one of the best." The older woman's face grew thoughtful and she added, "Alexandra, you must not believe the lies your are being told. Your mother was honorable. Too honorable for the vicious fabrication Edward Williamson has made of her life."
Alex wanted to ask more questions, but time did not allow. They were leaving in less then an hour. Alex mulled over the words Victoria told her as she dressed and thought over the events that had transpired in just a couple of days. Just one week ago she had been a normal college student. Well, as normal as one can be when they are taking courses essentially not allowed by their father. Part of her was relieved he now knew. Another part of her was troubled over the secrets her father had kept from her and the ones she kept from him. This was not the family she knew and loved.
A short time later, she found herself standing on a train platform. A private train would be taking them to Norway. A whole regime of Williamson's men stood ready and able, including Sam Williams. Alex completely ignored him. She refused to give him the satisfaction of looking at him. She was more then a little anxious when she thought out of the forty or so heavily armed men, only three were on the "good side." Three more cars pulled up, and her father, brother, and Marion each stepped out of a separate vehicle. The three were nudged forward with guns as they joined Alex on the platform.
Worry filled Indy's eyes as he noticed his daughter's bruised cheek and swollen lip. Angrily, he glanced over the troops lined up, guarding them. His stare met Sam Collins. Collins smirked, but felt uneasy when Indy did not flinch. He merely stared at the other man with powerful eyes and a squared jaw. Only when Collins looked away did Indy turn to his daughter, "Are you okay, Sweetheart?"
His voice almost broke all of her resolve. It was a voice that all of her life she compared to safety, love, and trust. Her voice cracked when she answered honestly, "I don't know. I feel confused."
"Sweetie," he began, but was interrupted when they were told to board the train. His heart ached as they were once again separated. He needed time with his children. All three of them. He knew he had a lot of explaining to do. Plus he had another son. One he never knew existed. A part of him felt guilty that he was not a part of James' life. But that was not his fault, was it? He never understood why Marion left that cold day in February 1937. He woke up one morning to find her side of the bed empty and cold, a note tacked to the pillow.
Jones,
We both know this is not going to work. Do yourself a favor, don't come looking for me.
M
To say he was hurt would have been an understatement, but his work kept him busy. That summer Indy left Marshall College and took an interim position at Barnett. He also helped a fellow professor locate the Golden Arms in Peru.
By the time 1938 rolled around, it was clear Marion was not coming back and undoubtedly did not want any contact with Indiana Jones. That year he learned his father was missing and quickly packed for Venice, Italy to rescue the older Jones from the Nazis and keep the Holly Grail out of Nazi hands.
He fell for Elsa Schneider probably because he was still not over Marion. Elsa was a dangerous women.
Smart, beautiful and the first since Marion left him. His judgment was clouded, how else would it explain the fact that she was a Nazi and he was clueless. It was the only time in his life when his instincts truly failed him. That relationship ended quickly, and badly. He thought to himself and smiled.
Soon after that adventure, he was in London. He remembered his lecture like it was yesterday. He also remembered the beautiful graduate student who sat in front of him. Elizabeth Talbot. Once the lecture was over, the floor was opened to questions. Her hand rose, and Indy more or less swooned when he heard her English lilt. Her question also made it obvious she was not the typical female student he was used to. She clearly had a brilliant mind.
Later on tea was served. Indy stood in a small group of men holding an interesting conversation when the same young women approached them. One of the men smiled, "Elizabeth, Darling, please meet Dr. Indiana Jones," Indy put out his hand to take hers, and felt a little disappointed with the fact it appeared she was married, but he smiled just a little to broadly when the gentleman said, "Dr. Jones, my daughter, Elizabeth."
The courtship was a whirlwind, but an amusing one. He had never met anyone like her before in his life. They made each other laugh, they each made the other's heart skip a beat. They had fun together. It felt…right He would not want to say it was better then what he had with Marion, because he had loved her too. It was difficult to explain, but what he had with Elizabeth could not be described as better, just different.
They married October 8,1938. While people were surprised, they were happy for the couple. Especially Henry Jones Sr., who felt relief that "Junior" was finally going to settle down. He could not have picked a better wife for his son. Alex was born exactly 9 months later, on July 8, 1939. They left London shortly before war was declared on Germany and September found them back in New York, Indy teaching again at Barnett.
His daydreaming stopped when he was shoved roughly into a private, comfortable compartment. Marion was shoved in after him. Both had their hands tied behind their back unceremoniously by two nameless thugs. Once they were satisfied the ropes would hold, the left the compartment sliding the door shut and locking it.
Indiana Jones and Marion Ravenwood Whitfield sat facing one another in unnerving silence. It had been over twenty years since they had last seen one another. Finally it was Indy who broke the silence.
"Why, Marion?"
She closed her eyes, "I'm sorry, Jones."
"I had a right to know."
"You did." Was all Marion could say.
"They why didn't you tell me?"
"To be honest, I was not sure if you were ready to be a father," she looked at the man across from her and saw the wounded look in his eyes, "Of if I was ready to be a mother."
There. She said it. For years she hid that detail in the crevices of her mind. She was not proud of it.
Indy was taken aback by her blunt honesty. He expected her to blame him, but she was blaming herself. He sighed, "Where did you go?"
"Well, I had a bit of money left, so I went west to San Francisco, CA. I found a small room in a boarding house and told everyone I was a widow. Six months later I gave birth to Henry James Jones." Marion saw his reaction to her son's name and added, "I know, I know, he thinks his name is James Henry, and he does not even now about the Jones part. I have really made a mess of things."
Indy felt sorry for her, "No, you didn't. You did a great job with him."
Her heart swelled with pride, "Thank you. Do you have any idea how much he is really like you?" She smiled, "I used to think it was karma. God getting even with me for leaving you by making my son, I mean our son, just like you."
He laughed, thankful they were not fighting, "Don't feel bad, you should spend some time with my daughter. How I survived her teenage years, I'll never know."
Marion turned thoughtful again, "By the time I let go of my foolish pride, James was almost a year old, and I learned from Marcus you were married and expecting a child with your new wife."
"Marcus knew?"
"No, not about James. I didn't tell him. I couldn't just show up on your doorstep with our love child and disrupt your entire life. It would not have been fair to anyone involved. Especially not fair to Elizabeth, who I understand was a wonderful person."
A sad smile swept over Indy's face, "She was. She really was."
"You had moved on with your life, I had to move on with mine. My money was depleting, but I still had enough for a two year nursing course. By 1940 I was a registered nurse. Nurses were in high demand then, with World War 2 and all."
"That is where you met your husband?"
It was her turn to look sad, "Richard. He was a good man, Indy. He was the only person who ever knew the truth about who James' father was. He loved James like his own, but the two were complete opposites. He died James' freshmen year in high school."
"So here we are."