Part 32 (1/2)
”Just promise me something?” Victor asked me suddenly.
”Anything.”
”Should your memories reoccur, let us know immediately. Let me be the first person you call. Don't wait for our readers to pick up on your thoughts. Surely, by then it will have been too late.”
”Of course,” I breathed. ”I'll call you first, before anyone. You have my word.”
Victor smiled. ”Good,” he said. ”But let's hope that doesn't ever have to happen. For everyone's sake.”
THIRTY-NINE.
The quiet hum of the background noise in Henri Coanda Airport was like a balm for my previously chaotic senses. It wasn't busy today- an added bonus. Very few travelers roamed the otherwise empty hallways. Most people walked with ease, nothing rus.h.i.+ng them. I suppose Wednesday afternoons didn't bring in much traffic.
The weather was also in alignment with the aura of the airport. It was dreary and rainy, almost gloomy-like. But although the dismal scene seemed bleak, there was some nameless energy in Terminal C which enchanted me. I felt excited, giddy. Like the world seemed full of great possibilities once again. Or, I don't know, maybe my reaction had simply been born from the feeling of going somewhere.
Christo leaned down to kiss the top of my head. The gesture seemed very fatherly. It stuck out to me, but in a nice way. Christo had never been one to be ”fatherly.”
”Are you sure this is really what you want?”
”Yes.” I nodded to reaffirm my statement. ”It feels right.”
He shook his head for the hundredth time in disbelief. ”Clearwater, eh? I figured if you ever did stick around in one place for a while, it would be somewhere exciting. The gulf coast doesn't even bring in good waves.”
I smiled, amused by his shock over my decision.
”This isn't about the Constantin, is it?” He nodded his head in Gabe's direction. I turned to view Gabe a couple of rows away from me. He was leaned back in his chair with his hat pulled down over his eyes, sleeping.
I turned back to my father. ”No, it's not about Gabe,” I answered, sighing. ”I wish it could be so simple.”
”Then what is it about?” he asked.
I shrugged. ”It just feels right, I guess.”
He shook his head, confused, slightly dismayed, but ultimately accepting it for what it was.
”I'll never fully understand you, Lo. No matter how long I've known you, you always manage to dumbfound me.”
”Is that a bad thing?”
”Nope. I guess it's why I love you. I think I'm supposed to learn something from you. Maybe that's why we've been eternally linked.”
I smiled. ”I love you, Dad.”
”I love you too, kiddo.”
He hugged me once more and then he left, disappearing down the white-washed hallways. My mood turned a little morose after he walked out of my line of vision. My father was gone for good. I wondered when I would ever see him again.
Gabe, Cam and I proceeded to check-in through security a while later. Soon, we were all on board our plane. Gabe gave me the window seat and Cam took the aisle. I suppose it was good that I was beside Gabe. There were things I needed to say. I only hoped I could figure out a way to verbalize them.
Cam almost immediately fell asleep after takeoff. Gabe mentioned plane rides always knocked him out. It was a perfect opportunity to say the things that needed to be said. But for some reason, we kept dodging the important issues. Instead we only spoke about random topics.
”Where are your parents?”
I think my question surprised Gabe, or maybe caught him off-guard. But he answered me without questioning the source of my curiosity.
”My father died when I was young. I don't remember much about him. My mother is alive and well. She visits every now and then. Or we'll sometimes visit her.”
”Where is she?”
”She lives amongst one of the troupes. She won't give up that life. It's too hard for her to stay in one place.” Gabe paused because the plane flew through some turbulence.
I looked up to see the fasten seat belt sign had been turned on and I waited for the trembles to come to an end.
I suddenly felt Gabe's hand grasp mine. I looked down, noticing I'd been clenching the arms of the seat.
”Nervous?” he asked me.
”No,” I promptly replied, but I didn't pull my hand away from his. The turbulence eventually came to end, thankfully, and I relaxed against my seat.
He seemed amused, for whatever reason, and this annoyed me.
”I know what you're thinking and I'm not afraid of flying,” I informed him.
”I wasn't thinking that at all.”
”Well. . .good.”
A few moments pa.s.sed quietly before either of us said anything again.
”She adored you, you know.”
”Your mother?” I asked.
He nodded. ”I've known her for several lifetimes. She isn't always my mother, but she is always closely related somehow. A sister, an aunt. . .she's always been there. And anyway, the two of you got along famously.”
I smiled now. I had often wondered if things would have been different had my mother lived into an old age, and what it would have been like having her around. I wondered if Christo would have been at all different.
”Is she the same mother whom the Royals murdered?” The question surprised both of us because it was clear I'd remembered that information from another lifetime. Gabe hadn't mentioned it to me in this one.
”Yes,” he said solemnly. ”She died at their hands, which is why she keeps her ident.i.ty a secret to this day.”
”I vaguely remember you telling me that she was powerful.”
”It's true. She has a very strong instinct. In fact, I've never seen anyone who compares, not even your Aunt Zetta. I think my mother even knew she would be murdered long before the actual crime was committed.”