By the time I was working on my final dissertation a few years later, Tristan has gained company. There was Merry whom I picked up in a fastfood parking lot, Dawn who got her name because she started following me one morning while I was jogging, and Tony. Tony was not really mine, my roommate got him a few weeks after I brought Tristan, and the two dogs immediately became friends. My roommate's family owned a farm. He was used to animals and did not really mind having a lot of dogs.
The title of my dissertation was too long for me to actually remember, but its main focus is on art as an element of crime. My contact with Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham never went past the generic greeting cards I sent them myself on holidays. Though they always wrote to me on holidays and my birthdays, I always refrained from responding. I did this because I believed communication with them was unnecessary. Anyway, I have lived without their presence ever since I can remember. This time, I have made it so that I cannot keep avoiding them anymore. I chose that topic for my dissertation to drive myself into setting up reunions that were long due.
The first person I had to interview for my dissertation was Hannibal Lecter. It was extremely difficult for me to gain permission from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane to conduct a personal interview with him. I was merely a student anyway, and even the most garlanded of scholars have been refused this opportunity. I was denied at least thrice before I decided to schedule an appointment with Dr. Alana Bloom who was still administrator of the hospital.
I walked into her office to find Dr. Bloom examining a document. It was only when I stopped to stand in front of her table that she raised her eyes to look at me, and when she did, the look was of utter disbelief.
"Will?" She asked, her wide eyes examining me.
I ran a hand through my hair. My godmother had me get a haircut the day before to make me look more 'presentable'. It seemed 'presentable' meant 'Will Graham'.
"I'm Abiel Urbonas, Ma'am." I said, "I'm here to interview you for my college dissertation."
Dr. Bloom gathered herself and managed to smile at me curtly. "I'm sorry, you reminded me of a colleague." She said. "Have a seat."
I smiled back. "Do you mind if I record the interview?" I asked.
"No. Go on." Dr. Bloom replied.
I set the recorder and proceeded with the interview.
Once the interview was done and I had stopped the recording, Dr. Bloom leaned forward as if to examine me better. "How old are you, Mr. Urbonas?"
"I turn 23 next month, Ma'am." I replied.
"You have a foreign accent." She pointed out.
"I was born here in the United States, but I grew up in Lithuania." I said as I looked her squarely in the eye. "You see, Dr. Bloom, I cannot even recall seeing my father. Over the past few weeks, I have been asking permission to visit him, but I have been constantly denied."
"Really?" She asked, raising a brow. "Why? Where is your father?"
I drew a deep breath and looked around the room. "He's here." I said. "His name is Hannibal Lecter."
Dr. Bloom stared at me as how she did when she first saw me a while ago. She did not say anything for a few moments as her eyes remained fixed on my face. "You..." she said, barely above a whisper.
I smiled at Dr. Bloom. "I am Abiel Graham-Lecter, Ma'am. Would you allow me to see my father?"
She smirked. "Why don't you say hello to him before you leave?"
The cold that has crept over me when I held the first greeting card from Hannibal Lecter came back the moment Dr. Bloom said that. I felt my heart beat a million times faster and my forehead break into a cold sweat. My hands balled up to fists on my lap without my knowledge. That question has taken me off guard and yet, unconsciously, I nodded.
As Dr. Bloom led me to where my father was detained, I assured myself with the thought that this is something I should have done three years ago.
Author's Note:
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