Chapter 131: Reading Remedy
"When I am attacked by gloomy thoughts, nothing helps me so much as running to my books. They quickly absorb me and banish the clouds from my mind." – Michel de Montaigne
"I took a speed-reading course and read War and Peace in twenty minutes. It involves Russia." – Woody Allen
"The last thing I have to say is that ice is the past tense of water. I've always wanted to write that sentence and now I have." – Rita Mae Brown
"If something anticipated arrives too late it finds us numb, wrung out from waiting, and we feel - nothing at all. The best things arrive on time." – Dorothy Gilman
Amélie sat in the chair adjacent to the bed and Sydney sat next to Vaughn as usual. Sydney shooed Donovan off the bed while they ate and he pouted on the floor.
Vaughn smiled, "What's with the one plate? I mean I think it's cool…but you've both done it now…"
Sydney and Amélie shared a smiled, "Well…we usually eat off of one anyway, we both just thought the same thing…we can just share it…"
He smiled, "Cool," he said as he grabbed a nugget and dunked it liberally in the ranch.
Sydney and Amélie both smiled as they watched him, looking like a little boy again.
"I think it's the food," Sydney said after they all had eaten a few bites.
"What?" Vaughn asked.
"The food…" she looked to Amélie, "I think the food brings out the little boy…"
Amélie smiled, "I would agree…although when I look at him, all I see is that little boy…"
Vaughn smiled, "Ok…more little Michael…" he shrugged and happily took another nugget, "That's ok…I'm good…"
They all chuckled while they finished lunch. Sydney and Amélie both took out the dishes after lunch and then came back to Vaughn.
"Do you want me to read to you now Michael?" Amélie asked on her return.
Vaughn smiled, "Yeah…I'd like that…"
"Should we start from where we left off last time?" Amélie asked.
Vaughn chuckled, "Yeah, we're only on page two I think…"
Amélie smiled, "I'll get the book."
Sydney smiled at Vaughn and sat down again with him, "Do you want me to go? Spend some time just with your mom?"
"No, I want you to stay," he said as he grabbed her hand, "I'm sure I'll be asleep in no time anyway…"
She smiled, "You should get some rest before…"
"I could use a nap," he said honestly, and then looked at her, flashing a naughty smile, "You wore me out…"
Sydney smiled, "You complaining?"
"Nope," he said smiling and kissing her.
His mom walked back in a few seconds later and sat down in the chair again.
"Ok…we were just past the first introduction," Amélie began to flip through the pages, "Alright, here we go…"
Vaughn nestled into Sydney's shoulder as he waited for his mother to begin.
Amélie started, "And, indeed, bad as his clothes were, and coarsely as he spoke, he had none of the appearance of a man who sailed before the mast, but seemed like a mate or skipper, accustomed to be obeyed or to strike. The man who came with the barrow told us the mail had set him down the morning before at the Royal George; that he had inquired what inns there were along the coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and described as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place of residence. And that was all we could learn of our guest.
He was a very silent man by custom. All day he hung round the cove, or upon the cliffs, with a brass telescope; all evening he sat in a corner of the parlor next the fire, and drank rum and water very strong. Mostly he would not speak when spoken to; only look up sudden and fierce, and blow through his nose like a fog-horn; and we and the people who came about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day, when he came back from his stroll, he would ask if any seafaring men had gone by along the road. At first we thought it was the want of company of his own kind that made him ask this question; but at last we began to see he was desirous to avoid them. When a seaman put up at the Admiral Benbow (as now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol) he would look in at him through the curtained door before he entered the parlor; and he was always sure to be as silent as a mouse when any such was present. For me, at least, there was no secret about the matter; for I was, in a way, a sharer in his alarms.
He had taken me aside one day, and promised me a silver fourpenny on the first of every month if I would only keep my weather-eye open for a seafaring man with one leg,' and let him know the moment he appeared. Often enough, when the first of the month came round, and I applied to him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at me, and stare me down; but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it, bring me my fourpenny piece, and repeat his orders to look out for the seafaring man with one leg.'
How that personage haunted my dreams, I need scarcely tell you. On stormy nights, when the wind shook the four corners of the house, and the surf roared along the cove and up the cliffs, I would see him in a thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical expressions. Now the leg would be cut off at the knee, now at the hip; now he was a monstrous kind of a creature who had never had but the one leg, and that in the middle of his body. To see him leap and run and pursue me over hedge and ditch was the worst of nightmares. And altogether I paid pretty dear for my monthly fourpenny piece, in the shape of these abominable fancies."
Amélie stopped and looked at the couple on the bed.
"I'm not asleep yet," Vaughn said with a yawn, "But soon…so keep reading."
Amélie smiled and shared a warm glance with Sydney who was playing with Vaughn's hair.
She went back to her reading, "But though I was so terrified by the idea of the seafaring man with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than anybody else who knew him. There were nights when he took a deal more rum and water than his head would carry; and then he would sometimes sit and sing his wicked, old, wild sea-songs, minding nobody; but sometimes he would call for glasses round, and force all the trembling company to listen to his stories or bear a chorus to his singing. Often I have heard the house shaking with Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum;' all the neighbors joining in for dear life, with the fear of death upon them, and each singing louder than the other, to avoid remark. For in these fits he was the most overriding companion ever known; he would slap his hand on the table for silence all round; he would fly up in a passion of anger at a question, or sometimes because none was put, and so he judged the company was not following his story. Nor would he allow anyone to leave the inn till he had drunk himself sleepy and reeled off to bed.
His stories were what frightened people worst of all. Dreadful stories they were; about hanging, and walking the plank, and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds and places on the Spanish Main. By his own account he must have lived his life among some of the wickedest men that God ever allowed upon the sea; and the language in which he told these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much as the crimes that he described. My father was always saying the inn would be ruined, for people would soon cease coming there to be tyrannized over and put down, and sent shivering to their beds; but I really believe his presence did us good. People were frightened at the time, but on looking back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life; and there was even a party of the younger me who pretended to admire him, calling him a true sea-dog,' and a real old salt,' and suchlike names, and saying there was the sort of man that made England terrible at sea."
Amélie glanced over at the couple again. Sydney smiled, "I think he's out," she said quietly.
Amélie smiled and closed the book. She got up and moved towards the couple. She held onto Vaughn as Sydney wormed her way out from beneath him. Sydney then positioned him on the bed. He didn't move a muscle.
"Sydney…what did you do to him? He's beyond relaxed – I think he is in a coma! Look! He's just…out! I guess you took care of him, totally wore him out…" Amélie concluded with a wink.
"How do you know it wasn't your reading?" Sydney asked with a smile as they looked down at the man on the bed for a few moments.
Amélie grinned, "I don't think he'd fall asleep that quickly without…exercise…"
Sydney smiled again, "You're probably right…let's let him sleep…"
Amélie nodded and followed her out.
They sat down on the couch in the living room.
Amélie smiled and looked over at Sydney, "Tell me how you and Michael met…"
Sydney smiled, "THAT is a very long and elaborate story…"
"We have some time," Amélie said.
Sydney took a deep breath, "Ok, I'll start at the beginning. I was a freshman in college when I was approached by a man who said he worked in US intelligence and they were interested in interviewing me. I wasn't particularly happy, I didn't love the classes I was taking and my father and I hadn't spoken in years. I thought my mother was dead, and so I agreed to it. I was led to believe that they were CIA, and eventually learned that I was working for SD-6, which they told me was a division that was funded by the CIA's black budget; operations that are highly classified, even hidden from congressional oversight. They led me to believe that SD-6 was one of these divisions and that that was why they didn't operate through Langley. I became a double agent for the CIA after the man I worked for, the man that took Vaughn, Arvin Sloane, killed my fiancé."
Amélie let out a short gasp.
"Yes, Danny and I had dated for two years, and when he proposed I felt that I had to tell him…I told him what I thought was the truth, that I worked for a black-ops division of the CIA, and I was a spy…SD-6 had surveillance everywhere, and while I was in Taipei on an operation, SD-6 had him killed. After Danny, I refused to return to SD-6, they came after me because they saw it as an act of betrayal, and it was that night that I learned that my father was also an officer with SD-6. And I learned what SD-6 really was: they stole weapons, military secrets, industrial intel, medical tech, computer advances, political agendas, anything that the other guy wanted – anyone that would pay the price – governments, corporations, wealthy citizens, families. It was basically black market organized crime. After they killed Danny and tried to eliminate me, I wanted to destroy SD-6. I won back their confidence and stole an artifact that Sloane wanted. Then I went to the real CIA, where Vaughn was assigned as my handler. And until we finally brought down SD-6, I would have a mission and a counter-mission, and would meet with Vaughn regularly to go over missions and everything. He became the only person I could trust…the only one I could talk to, the only one that really knew what was going on." Sydney stopped and looked at Amélie.
"Did you meet in the fall?" Amélie asked.
Sydney smiled, "Yes…we met October 1st, 2001…"
Amélie smiled at her, "Michael was different at Thanksgiving that year…"
Sydney seemed shocked, "He was?"
"Yes," Amélie assured her.
"How?" Sydney asked, interested.
"Well…there was just something different with him, all he talked about was work…he didn't even mention what's her name that he'd been dating, and I found out later they broke up," Amélie thought a moment, "What was her name, that mousy one…the blonde…"
Sydney cringed, but smiled at the way Amélie described her, "Alice…"
"Yes, that was her…yeah – we were talking and his phone rang, and he always turned it off before he came over…he literally ran out of the room. When I confronted him about it, he just smiled, but I knew something was going on."
Sydney smiled, "You're very perceptive…"
Amélie smiled back, "I was surprised when he started to date her again, he seemed…unhappy, until I managed to wrangle out of him that he was smitten with a woman at work, that woman was you in case you haven't guessed."
Sydney blushed, "Well…let's just say it was a mutual attraction…"
"What are we going to do while Michael has his session?" Amélie asked, changing the subject.
"I don't know…something to get our minds off of it…although that will be impossible…we could shop," Sydney suggested.
Amélie smiled, "I'd like that…"
"Then shop we will," Sydney said with a smile.
They both stopped, hearing Vaughn call Sydney's name. They got up and walked into the room, "What's up honey?" Sydney asked as she sat down on the bed.
"We've only got a few minutes…can you just…sit with me?"
Sydney smiled and moved back to sit on the bed more. Amélie sat in the chair. They all sat in silence, waiting for the moment that they all knew would come, but none of them looked forward to.
