Chap 24

Dr. Dyson and Erik stood unmoving for a short but uncomfortable moment in the office. Breaking the silence between them by clearing his throat, Dr. Dyson walked back to his desk chair.

"I'm sorry, Erik, I just heard some bad news about a friend." he said, briefly holding up the letter still in his hand. Erik nodded in understanding, the mood returning once again to that uncomfortable silence. Dr. Dyson rubbed his chin and forced a smile on his face; trying hard to act no differently towards Erik. He did not want him to see any change in his demeanor just because of the letter.

"I will come back at another time then," Erik said, turning to leave. Dr. Dyson forced his mind to function once again.

"No, Erik. Please, come, and sit down. I can always spare a moment for you." Erik paused at the door briefly, an expression of doubt on his face. "I want to hear whatever it is you have to say, it seems to be important," insisted Dr. Dyson, as he sat back down in his chair, leaning back with as much ease as he could manage at the moment.

Whatever the allegations, I cannot just avoid this man I have come to know so well. Although I would have liked a little more time to really digest this information, I should begin my own investigation.

Erik sighed heavily and closed the door with some trepidation. Dr. Dyson's eyes followed him as he sat down in the armchair before the desk. Dr. Dyson noted the look of indecision that flashed over his face. Erik's eyes rose to meet his.

"Dr. Dyson, I think it may be time for me to leave Capellen manor."

Dr. Dyson furrowed his brows. Hearing Erik talk about leaving actually bothered him, even after reading the letter. Erik was looking at him with an intensity Dr. Dyson thought strange.

"I see. You are free to go as you wish, of course, but, why now?" he queried.

"As you can see, my recovery is nearly complete. My injuries are fully healed. Dr. Dyson, you have been so gracious to me over the last two months, I feel that if I can fend for myself, I should go. I do not want to abuse the hospitality you shown me. I promise to repay you one day for your generosity, and that I will do so please, do not refuse."

"Nonsense, Erik. I stand firm on your not needing to repay me. And I do agree with you, most of your injuries seem to be healed. But what of your memories, Erik? Have they returned? Are they complete?" Dr. Dyson said, leaning forward.

"No, I am afraid not. I have not tried to remember any of my past for quite some time now, at your urging. Physically, I believe I am almost back to normal so my brain should be well healed by now, I imagine." It was Erik's turn to sit back in the chair. He tapped the chair of the arm, eyes downcast, his face becoming wistful. "I think that the time has come for me to find out who I was before I came here. I need to know my past before I can move forward." His eyes rose again to meet Dr. Dyson's gaze.

"I actually admire what you have become here, Erik," Dr. Dyson replied, masking an internal guffaw.

Especially given what the letter says you were in the past. Your past will be shocking, of that I am certain.

"But memories do not respond to orders to reveal themselves, as you know." Dr. Dyson said. Erik smirked and nodded.

"Yes. I know. I can only hope that with the proper triggers, they will return," he said. Dr. Dyson was impressed; Erik had obviously been reading about amnesia in the medical literature, and how physical impulses such as sights, sounds and scents could trigger the release of buried memories.

Dr. Dyson opened his desk drawer, looking for a paper he had just been reading on the topic. He shut it quickly, seeing something that could be one such trigger rolling around within: the ring that he had pulled off of Erik's broken finger that fateful night. Dr. Dyson looked up at Erik, sitting before him, straight and confident. Dr. Dyson was actually in awe of his recovery. He decided that it was not the right time to bring the ring into the light.

"From the first day that you regained consciousness, Erik, I told you that you were welcome here." Dr. Dyson rose abruptly from his chair. "Come, take a walk with me." Dr. Dyson grabbed a coat and walked out the door past Erik with a swift stride. Erik followed.

Dr. Dyson's brain began to spin as they walked together silently in the afternoon breeze. He made up his mind, that very moment. Whatever awaited them, whoever Erik turned out to be, devilish prankster or murderer, he would stand by him. They strolled towards the path that led through the busiest part of the manor. Dr. Dyson's gaze turned to the azure skies and cotton clouds.

My friend François, you are dead, at peace now. Here is the little boy you once wanted to rescue, now a man, walking next to me. He has been through so much. We have only seen the physical scars, the ones he was born with and the ones that have been inflicted on him. There are many more emotional scars left to be revealed. Ominous, frightful memories are waiting to surface, that I know.

I see it as fate that he came to me, beaten and near death. It is only right for me, your student and friend, to be the one to take up your cause, to save him, heal him now as an adult if I can. Whatever he was in his past, I am sure it was the product of many terrible experiences in this wretched, hateful world. A world that will not accept a boy, a man who looks as he does.

Erik has a heart capable of love, compassion, and generosity as far as I can tell. That is plain enough to see. He is a brilliant, creative human being. He is living freely now, without the shackles of his tortured past, but that will change eventually, probably soon. I have made my decision. I will show him the mercy I believe he deserves. Too many people have given up on him before. First his mother, then god knows who else.

Dr. Dyson saw Erik's demeanor change as they walked wordlessly. His shoulders relaxed, and his stride became effortless. He could sense the peace and resolve work its way into Erik's mind. Dr. Dyson eventually stopped, holding out his hand, talking with pride about his land.

"Capellen manor seems to have a strange effect on people. They would come to visit family or friends, experience the comfort and good natured atmosphere, and the next thing I know, I would be asked if they could stay. I am quite used to it, actually. All I demand is that each one who wants to stay pulls their own weight." He walked a few more steps and pointed to a small house that was currently being constructed. "As you see, there is always a new house being built, so much so that the area surrounding the manor house is beginning to look like a town." He smiled, his blue eyes scanning over the fields.

"We produce almost all of our own food. The grain and vegetable fields grow abundantly. Our livestock is healthy and thriving, our orchards and berry bushes are laden with the most delicious fruit. We are told, it is the best tasting produce sold in the nearby markets. Our vineyards produce several varietals, some of which we sell in town. We have an almost unlimited supply of wood from the forests of the manor lands and fresh water from a tributary of the Eisch River. The people who live here are content. Elaine and I treat everyone like family. In return, we are blessed, really. It is a like an oasis, my Capellen."

"You have much to be proud of, Dr. Dyson. You have created a little bit of heaven right here on earth," said Erik. "And I have been blessed by its angels." Dr Dyson turned to him.

"As far as I am concerned, Erik, the length of your stay is indefinite. Some things may change after your memory returns; however, my offer will still stand." Dr. Dyson reached out his hand to Erik. "I trust you will find a way to pull your weight, Erik. Your intellect and talents will be an asset to us here." Erik was rendered speechless. Erik took his outstretched hand shook it, in a gentleman's agreement. As they walked back to the house, Erik found his voice again.

"Dr. Dyson, the problem is that I don't think I will regain my memories here. I have made so many good, new memories here, they overshadow the old. I need to go and visit other places, old places. That may help bring back old memories."

"So…you have a good idea of where you should go? The world is a big place," Dr. Dyson asked, gazing over at Erik. "It is not exactly easy for you to travel, I would imagine." Erik looked towards the physician with a confused expression. Realization swept over his countenance. Dr. Dyson was referring to his scarred face, now partially hidden by his hair.

"I guess you are right. I cannot just ride around town in broad daylight. It will take some planning. I suspect I will not head out for several weeks. In any case, I was thinking about heading to Paris. The place always floats into my thoughts." Erik looked down to ground and kicked at a rock, hands in his pockets. "To tell you the truth, I am worried about what I may find there." Eric gazed over the fields, his mind far away. "I am not sure I want to face my past, Dr. Dyson, but I think I must."

"Do what you feel you should, Erik. If you need anything, all you need do is ask. I am sure Nate could go with you." Dr. Dyson walked up the path to the manor house behind Erik. "Funny enough, I was thinking of taking a trip to Paris myself," said Dr. Dyson. Erik stopped short, turning around to him, face serious.

"I am sure this is one trip I should definitely make alone. But I am deeply grateful that Capellen is here for me to return to." Dr. Dyson nodded, and walked past Erik through the front door of the manor house.

"By the way, your music floating around the manor house has made me want to play the piano again. But I am afraid that I am sorely out of practice and may be in need of a few lessons, to help me find my hands again. Do you know anyone who may be able to help?" he said, turning to Erik with a smile as sly as a fox.

"I would be honored," said Erik, returning the smile. The two men entered into the foyer, meeting Elaine. Her eyes lit up upon seeing them.

"Elaine, over for dinner?" Said Dr. Dyson, walking up to her, giving her hug.

"I could not stay away from your cooks if I wanted to, Father. Roland is already here. Good afternoon, Erik." Elaine smiled shyly at Erik as she warmly greeted her father. Erik gave her a quiet nod, and after an intense look, walked towards the kitchen. Elaine followed him as if drawn by a magnet. Dr. Dyson soon realized the light in her eyes was not on his account.

Dr. Dyson walked back into the office, reflecting upon the interactions he had witnessed between Erik and Elaine with great curiosity. Angelique was right. When they were in a room with others, it was if the other people were not there. They always stood closely together and talked with each other in soft, gentle tones. Elaine was very intuitive about this man, Erik. It was as if she felt his pain and discomfort like her own. Recently, she was saying that Erik was 'feeling the need for some privacy.' Dr. Dyson had agreed with her assessment; Erik did seem as if he was becoming irritated, frustrated with the constantly busy nature of the manor house. Dr. Dyson surmised that in his past life, Erik must have been somewhat of a loner, if not entirely by choice. Habits are difficult to change.

Dr. Dyson recalled seeing Erik alone on most occasions, writing in the journal he took with him everywhere. He had taken to spending most of his time wandering the manor lands, and climbing the trees, of all things. That is, when he was not laughing quietly with Elaine. He went to stand by the window, suddenly becoming worried about how close his daughter was becoming to Erik, in the context of what he read in the letter. How close have they really become?

In his heart he knew Erik would never hurt Elaine if he could help it. They obviously cared very much for each other. Dr. Dyson shook his head, wondering how he could have missed the signs before. His gaze rested upon the River Cabin and his mind wandered.

A little less than half a mile away was the one bedroom cottage he had lovingly built for his wife, a place for relaxation and solace to ease her heartache from her many miscarriages. A part of him died when his darling Tina, as he called her, was taken from them by puerperal fever. All his learning, all his powerful medicine could not save her life just days after she had given birth. He found the strength to go on because his beautiful little daughter needed him. She had her mother's soft hazel eyes and had grown up to be such a lovely, intelligent woman. She would have made her mother proud.He put on his coat and took a stroll down to the cottage for the first time in years, lost in his thoughts along the way.

Conrad and Clemencia were and example of love at first sight, married within months of their meeting. The daughter of the former Duke, she was an avid musician who played the violin, flute, and piano, among other instruments. He had met her at a Royal function when he returned to Luxembourg after studying at the Clinical School in Paris. That night, when they danced together, everyone else ceased to exist. He would have proposed on the spot, but he thought it was a crazy idea. Later on, she confessed to him that she would have accepted, as crazy as it sounded. The fact that he just happened to be royalty made their short engagement easier to tolerate for the Duke. They were the perfect couple with the perfect life, except for the fact that she could not bear a child to term.

It was not a big problem for him, but Clemencia grew depressed and withdrawn, scaring Conrad with her crying spells and hopelessness. Conrad had insisted that they could adopt, but Clemencia desperately wanted a child from their union, blood of their blood. The River Cabin was a place where they both could get away from the hustle and bustle of the busy manor house, and where she could be alone to immerse herself in her other love, music. That is where Elaine was conceived, he was certain. He reached the front porch, sad to see how it was littered with twigs and leaves. There used to be flower baskets hanging from the rafters, and white rockers facing the river.

He walked into the cabin, and was pleasantly surprised to see it so well kept. He knew that the maids at the manor house came over with Marjorie to fix up the cabin and clean it several times a year, almost as homage to Clemencia, their beloved Countess. His eyes grew full as he walked past the table neatly set for two near the large picture window, and looked at the music cases against the wall.

There were her instruments; a cello, a flute, and a clarinet. Against the eastern wall stood an upright piano, lovingly polished but appearing lonely. The instruments were waiting for their mistress to return and touch them again. She would never return. He had let Elaine give Erik a precious, priceless gift: her mother's violin. Erik adored that gift and put to good use. The stringed instrument sang often, the beautiful melodies making everyone stop what they were doing in the manor house to listen when he played in the evenings.

Dr. Dyson walked over to her picture hanging over the piano; he touched the gorgeous face and a tear left his eye. It had been over twenty five years since he last felt the warmth of Clemencia's embrace. The door opened behind him and he spun around in surprise. Marjorie nearly jumped out of her skin, not expecting him to be there.

"Oh, you scared me half to death, Dr. Conrad!" she said, patting her chest and breathing hard with surprise.

Marjorie was a prim and proper French lady. She had an air of stern aloofness, but it was just a mask to protect a soft, shy personality. She had worked for the Dysons for most of her life, starting when she had barely turned 18, right before Clemencia died. She was hired as a nanny for Elaine, but she ended up having to be more like a mother. 'Dr. Conrad' was as close as he could get Marjorie to being less formal with him. She had said she just did not feel it proper to call him by his first name publicly, even though he had insisted on it for years.

"I did not expect you either." He laughed, trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes without her noticing. She noticed. She noticed everything about him.

"I am sorry to have intruded upon a private moment, I will return later." She said, lowering her eyes, turning to leave.

"It is no problem at all, Marjorie. Please stay. What were you going to do here, anyway?"

"Just a bit of cleaning, Doctor. It is too lovely a place to just let it go. I just finished dusting and polishing, and now I will change the linens, and clean off the porch." She carried a laundry basket over to the bed that graced the bedroom in the far corner of the cabin. The four posted bed was hung with fine curtains like mist. She knocked on the pot belly stove that served to warm the cabin on chilly days. "It gets dusty here with disuse."

"You spend so much time and energy here. Why?"

"I am not really sure. It is more like a habit at this point. I have always loved this cabin; so private and peaceful." She turned to him with one of her signature stern looks. "May I speak plainly, sir?"

"But of course, Marjorie," he replied, approaching her.

"I feel that this place wants to be more alive than it is. It is a shame to me that it has become nothing more than a lovely shrine." She looked at him seriously.

"Then why don't you stay here? I know how nice it can be to be by yourself sometimes. I would not mind it one bit, Marjorie."

"No thank you, Dr. Conrad. I love the people and the energy of the manor house too much. I would just feel alone here. This place is meant to be a place of peace and healing; to be used by one who likes to spend time alone to read, to draw, to play music. It is a great, quiet place to create." She hoped he would read into what she was saying. "It would be good for someone to breathe some life into this beautiful little place." He looked at her with wonder.

"Are you thinking of Erik?"

"Yes! I see how you have grown to favor him. He is a remarkable man, I can see that too. The manor house confuses him. I think he feels ashamed to be there, like a burden. I think these private accommodations would be more to his liking."

He walked around the cabin slowly. It had all the amenities necessary to function as a flat. It would be perfect; close enough, but far enough away.

"It would be a good place for him to get some much needed privacy." he thought aloud.

"I think he would see it like that. But why don't you run your idea by Elaine, she seems to have a good idea of his likes and dislikes." She smiled internally.

"Yes, that she does. I will think about it. And I will not take the credit for this one, Marjorie." He said, turning around and smirking at her. She beamed. Seconds later, his expression grew serious. He knew if there was anyone he could talk to about what he had just learned, it would be her.

"May I discuss something important with you, Marjorie? I feel you are someone I can turn to."

"Of course you can," she said, growing curious.

"It is just that I have heard some disturbing things about Erik. About his past. I trust you will keep our conversation from here on confidential, even from Elaine."

"Yes of course. Did he tell you these things?" Marjorie said, sitting down in the window seat. Dr. Dyson followed and sat next to her.

"No, but I have gotten my information from a reliable source. It seems that he may have been in some kind of trouble before, severe trouble. I do not think his actions have all been admirable. I believe he may have done some terrible things."

"I had assumed that, Dr. Dyson. Most people do not ride alone on dark roads at night like he did. And we really do not know why he got attacked or by whom. It could have been someone repaying him for some wickedness, we do not know." She paused for a second. "Do you think he can be dangerous? Given what I have seen, I find that hard to believe."

"I agree with you. He does not seem like a terrible man, but I have seen physical scars of horrible abuse. What that can do to the heart of a human being is devastating. Never mind the emotional pain he must have experienced growing up in this vain world." Marjorie nodded.

"I cannot even imagine; it must have been awful. But one can recover from such pain. Look at Nathaniel; he ran from England at a young age, away from a brutal father that used to beat him daily. It took him years to even tell us about it. He is one of the sweetest people I know." Dr. Dyson sighed heavily.

"My heart tells me to support him, Marjorie, come hell or high water, but I am just not sure. I have already told him he could stay here, at Capellen as long as he wishes. I do not know if that was wise thing to do. I do not want to endanger us in any way. Blast it, I am just uncertain of what to do, to think." She reached out and held his hand.

"Conrad, please don't doubt your judgment. Go with your gut instinct. You can always trust that. I think you will make the right decision; even though following through with it may not be the easiest thing to do. If what you say is true, when his memory returns he will be anything but easy."

"Thank you, Marjorie. For everything." He said, squeezing her hand.

"Anytime." She said, getting up to continue her chores. He glanced at her for a few moments as she flitted about the cabin. She was so full of energy. He walked up to Marjorie as she picked up the broom to go outside. He took it from her hands.

"I can take care of that task, Marjorie," he said.

"No, Doctor…" she resisted. He held her hand gently, and on impulse, put a gentle kiss on her fingers. Marjorie actually blushed, looking up at him with wide eyes, surprised at the familiar contact.

"I would like us to ride back home together. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go." he said, convincingly. "And I do not know the first thing about fixing a bed. This, I can handle." He walked outside and started his chore, leaving her speechless.

"I would like that," she whispered to herself as she looked at him on the porch, suddenly feeling twenty years younger.

Just before leaving the river cabin, their chores done, Conrad walked over to look at Clemecia's picture once again.

"I miss you, my dear. I feel your presence in my heart even now. Everyone who comes here can feel it." He said, smiling at the warm eyes. "You felt my loneliness, and called us here, didn't you, darling?" He sighed. " I hope your loving spirit can help Erik find some peace."