The Awakening (2 page)

Chapter 3

     As time passed Ryan was going a bit crazy with all Adele’s complaining. It bothered him so much he decided to look for part-time work outside his workshop. Frances and young Jan weren’t complaining, but Adele never let up.

      One day in town, Ryan overheard Birdie, the owner of the one and only restaurant, tell a customer how badly in need Bentley Quad was. Seemed as though Birdie knew a lot about everybody’s business and felt the need to share what she knew to anyone who took the time to listen to her. And she was often correct in her speculations.

      Ryan decided to pay the old man a visit and see for himself exactly what was what. Perhaps he’d find an extra income there. If not, what harm was there in asking? Extra money in pocket would mean he could afford a bit more for Frances and the girls.

     That weekend he headed off to town with the intent on meeting Mr. Quad.

      Bentley’s place was a mansion, just as Adele had claimed. Ryan couldn’t help wonder how the old man managed to survive the long, cold winters living alone. The path leading to the front door was knee deep in snow and looked as if it hadn’t been shoveled in weeks. Ryan knocked on the door and waited. Minutes later the door opened a crack, and an older gentleman, with a pleasant smile greeted him.

    “Good afternoon,” Bentley said. “What can I do for you?”

      “I’m a neighbour. Name’s Ryan Martin.” He glanced around the immediate area. “I heard from someone in town that you need help.”

      “A neighbour?” The old man grinned.

      “Yes. Hope I’ve come to the right place.” Ryan was uncomfortable.
      “You sure have.”  Bentley smiled. “C’mon in.” He motioned to Ryan to come inside. “Old Birdie tell you?”

      “How did you know?” Ryan asked stepping inside the front door.

      Bentley winked. “She’s the only gossiper that I know. No big deal, everybody knows about my arthritis. Been acting up something awful lately.”

     Bentley led him into the living room, over to the fireplace where he had a fire burning in an effort to take the chill off the house. The room was opulent, spacious, and Ryan had only imagined homes like this existed. All the furniture was solid oak-wood, and expensive pictures adorned the walls.

     “Quite the place you have here ─” Ryan skimmed the room. “How do you manage with this cold weather?”

     “I don’t. Really feel the cold this year. Darn arthritis. And my short term memory seems to have flown out the window along with the soot and ashes.”

     “Sorry to hear that.”

     “Me too. Sure could use some help with the wood ─ can’t split it anymore.” Bentley nudged Ryan’s arm. “Iffin you’d like the job, I sure would be grateful.”

     “That it? Just the wood?”

     “No. I need help with the groceries, too. Embarrassed to admit it, but I can’t seem to carry those things like I used to. My sister Eva has gone to help a friend and she won’t be back for a month. And my nephew won’t be here for another month as well. Jefferson’s a good lad. I’m kind of in a bind with all this snow.”
    “I thought you lived alone. Guess Birdie doesn’t know everything.”
     Bentley chuckled. “Just thinks she does.”
     Ryan looked at Bentley’s hands and noticed him rubbing them together as if he was in great pain.

     “I’d be more than happy to help you out,” Ryan said. “I have plenty of things to do at home, but there never seems to be enough money to go around. I have a teenager, if you know what I mean.”

      Bentley gave him a pat on the back. He stooped forward, shook Ryan’s hand and hired him on the spot.
     “Thanks for stopping by. And don’t worry—I’ll make it worth your while.”

     “Thank you,” Ryan said. “So when do I start?”
     “The sooner, the better.”

      Bentley smiled again and thanked Ryan repeatedly for dropping by. After that, the two sat chatting for another hour or so about the farm, the economy, and politics.  

       Bentley rubbed his chin. “Don’t suppose you would do me a favour now, would you?”

      “Sure. What is it?”

      “I’m getting low on food,” Bentley said, “would you mind?”
      “Not at all.”
       Bentley smiled, then pulled out a pen and paper from his pocket and scribbled down a list. He snagged a coat from the hall closet. “Follow me. I’ll show you where I keep my Pontiac. It’s a standard— hope that’s all right?”
       “Been driving a standard for years. Transmission blew a while back, and with the farm, I haven’t had time to get it fixed.”
       Ryan followed him outside.
       “Here’s the keys,” Bentley said handing them to Ryan, “and you’ll need this.” He slipped him a crisp, new, fifty dollar bill. “Be careful now, the roads are slippery.”
      “All right,” Ryan said revving the engine. It felt good to be behind another vehicle. Real good.
        The sky was turning dark, and the day growing exceptionally cold. Unfortunately, Ryan never made it to the store.

      He’d been motoring along at a good clip, enjoying the countryside, not breaking the law by all means when suddenly the engine revved, the started to smoke. The next thing he knew about a mile down the road, the throttle stuck and the engine roared.
    “Whoa!” Ryan shouted just before the car zigzagged all over the road. And then the steering locked and Ryan was left to the mercy of its speed. Without any way to control the car, his fears became a reality as it flipped over, plunged down a steep embankment, and rested in a gully about fifty feet below. When it hit a tree, Ryan’s head hurtled face first into the dash. The impact knocked the wind out of him.

    A few minutes later, Ryan managed to pull himself from the rubble. He wiped his brow, blood smearing the back of his hand.

     Bentley was in the living room warming himself by the fire when he looked out the window and saw flames in the sky a mile high. He yanked on his winter coat and went to investigate.
     He climbed into his new Mustang and with teeth chattering drove like the wind, fearful someone had died in a fire.
     When he arrived to the scene all he could see was a cloud of thick black smoke. Then amidst the fire he saw a man.

      He hollered, “You all right?”

     Ryan shook his head.

     “Think so,” he muttered as he made his way through the deep snow and up to the road.
     “Saw the flames a mile away. I came as fast as I could. Want me to call an ambulance?” Bentley asked.
     “No, I’m fine,” Ryan said as he staggered over to Bentley.

      “Told you to be careful, Ryan. These roads are treacherous.”
       Ryan frowned. “Ryan? Who’s Ryan? Haven’t a clue who you are talking about.”

       Bentley squinted. “You remember me, don’t you? Bentley. Our deal. All the stuff we talked about?”
       “um...no. Where am I?” Ryan looked around trying to get his bearings.
    “About a mile from Hollowtown, Ryan.”
    “Ryan?”
    “Isn’t that your name?”
    “No.”

      Bentley looked below but the car was up in flames and he wasn’t able to tell if it was even his. He looked at Ryan strangely and couldn’t recall the colour of winter coat. Short term memory loss, he guessed. “Well if you’re not Ryan, you have a twin because I just hired a fellow who looked a lot like you. So what’s your name?”
      Ryan realized he didn’t know, but to save face he said the first name that came to mind. “Gabriel. Gabriel Hollingsworth.”
      “Well then Gabriel, better come with me before you freeze to death.”
       Ryan nodded and followed Bentley. When he reached the car, Ryan slumped inside, and passed out.

       Ryan didn’t know that he had amnesia.
       And neither did Bentley.                                 

     When Bentley arrived home, much to his surprize, his sister Eva had returned from her trip and when she saw them she came barrelling out of the house. She took one look at Ryan and immediately came to help.
   “Good Lord what happened?”
     “He had an accident.”
    “He sure did. He’s lucky to be alive by the looks of him.”

    “Found him on the side of the road, his car up in flames about a mile away. “Think he needs to see a doctor.”
    Eva frowned. “Are you okay, Bentley?”
   “I’m fine. Can you help me get him into the house?”
    Eva stepped closer. “Of course. What’s his name?” She helped steady Ryan, then slowly walked up the steps, his one harm around Eva’s neck, the other around Bentley. “What a day this has been.”

   “No kidding. Glad you’re home,” Bentley said closing the front door. “Not sure what his name is.” Bentley grunted, then sat down.
    “I’ll call Doctor Brown.”
    “Don’t need no doctor,” Ryan huffed.
     Bentley stared at Ryan as he sat on the sofa rubbing his forehead, looking dazed. Bentley didn’t know him at all, seemed very different from the Ryan fellow he’d meet earlier on in the day.
         “What’s the matter?” Ryan grunted, “ain’t you ever seen an accident before? Hell, I’ve been in plenty of accidents and I can tell ya…I don’t need no doctor.” He rose and walked a perfectly straight line over to the living room window and gazed outside. “I’ll be going now,” he said adamantly.
      Bentley didn’t know what to make of things. He observed him closely and took note of the fact his fifty dollars was gone, and, well, his car was missing too. Gabriel didn’t sound like Ryan, didn’t act like him either. So where was Ryan? It was the strangest thing.
    “Where you going in this weather? I mean, you’re without a car, and that jacket you’re wearing doesn’t look very warm. Why not stay here for a while? Least till the cold weather lets up.”
     Bentley glanced over at Eva who had hung her coat on a hook in the dining room. “We’re about to have lunch. Why not stay for a warm, home-cooked meal?”
    “Guess I could,” Ryan agreed.
    And so Ryan stayed. He ate lunch and ended up living with Bentley Quad.

Chapter 4

     Isaac Cooper, a mental patient, couldn’t think of a single time in his life when a day promised to be more awkward. Today, as he ran like the wind, he happened to stumble across a farmhouse.
     Years back, he’d been speeding and, inebriated collided into a couple, killing them instantly. He was sentenced and placed in a mental institution. After five years, somehow, he’d managed to wander out of the hospital. He’d been hiding, half frozen to death, when to his delight he discovered the farm. Hurrying across the snow in nothing but street clothes and sneakers, he raced inside the barn in order to get warm.

     Once inside, his eyes widened at the sight of fruit. Starving, it didn’t matter that he had no right. Nothing mattered, except Isaac.
    For a moment he assumed he was merely having another one of his episodes of delusion. He was used to them.

     From a ways away, he heard the melodious sounds of a woman calling out, “Ryan.”

    He saw a pair of trousers lying on a bench, and hurriedly wiggled out his hospital outfit, flinging his clothes behind a pile of woodchips.

   “Luck, luck, luck” he whispered, twisting the pants around. Last thing he needed was to look like a lunatic.

    As the woman’s voice grew louder, he scurried out of the barn.
     Meanwhile, the sight of a beautiful woman hurrying to greet him was the strangest thing. But he figured he was having another day of hallucinations and wasn’t overly bothered by them.

     “Beautiful sight,” Isaac whispered, and then gulped, as he watched as Frances rushed towards him.

    She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the lips.
     “Okay,” she said, “What’s the big secret? And when did you change clothes?”   

     Isaac shivered. He couldn’t remember a woman ever kissing him.

     He had no idea who she was, and wasn’t aware that he was actually a look alike to Ryan. For now, the winter day was gorgeous, with its sun shining strong against his skin. And standing in front of him, was a magnificent-looking woman. He watched her closely, and studied her every carefully.

     She was wearing a black winter coat, and her hair as golden as the sun. Isaac gazed at her in bewilderment.

    “So, you think I changed clothes? What else do you think?” Isaac reached to caress her pretty face, and hoped she was real.

   “Ryan Martin, you never cease to amaze me.”

   “Is that right?” He grinned.

    “Yes,” she continued, “I knew as soon as you left for town you’d get sidetracked talking to those chatty men.”

    “You jealous?” he teased.

    “Maybe. So what are you doing out here?”

    Isaac smirked. He hadn’t been anywhere near a woman in a long time and the idea of this charming woman liking him was appealing.

    “Nothing much.” Isaac shook his head.

    Hands on hips, Frances scowled at him. “Are you going to make love to me, or not?”

      Isaac was speechless. Probably for the first time in his life.

      He’d wanted out of that mental hospital, and didn’t much care what he had to do to get out.

     Now that he’d been successful, Isaac wasn’t so sure if seeing Frances was a dream, or maybe the pretty lady was just another one of his delusions.   

     Because the afternoon was unreasonably warm, he decided to take her up on the invitation and with ease, scooped her up and carried her into the house.

      The room felt dark and cramped. The ceiling was low, but the house had a nice size front porch and was wide enough for chairs against the walls.  Isaac walked through the bedroom door and realized he wasn’t hallucinating. Frances was as real as the air he was breathing.

      His eyes skimmed the room, taking note of things he’d never seen before. Nervous that he’d screw up he worried that he wouldn’t be able to pull off pretending to be her husband. Who was he? What was he supposed to act like? A million questions flashed before his mind. It was obvious though, this lady thought he was her husband.
     But how was that possible? And how come she couldn’t see that he wasn’t her husband?  

     He glanced down at the pretty lady, smiled, and assumed she had a mental problem, too. Fine by him.
     “Tell me what you’d like?”

     Frances laughed. “For you to make love to me.”
    “Certainly.”

     And so, he pretended to be Ryan. Isaac decided then, he’d become Ryan forever. End of story.

     Of course, nothing would ever be the same. And without medication there were times his new life seemed to be too much. A bottle of whiskey would help remedy that. Maybe two.

     And so in the course one day, Isaac became a father, husband, cabinet maker and farmer. A remarkable role change for someone who’d known nothing of kindness, and had no experience with a normal life, whatever the hell that was. He wasn’t sure.

     Occasionally, he wasn’t so confident he could swing it. Apparently, Ryan was going to be a hard act to follow. He was to live a quiet, uncomplicated life. However, without his medication eventually he’d falter, and his true personality would surface.

     Isaac never cared for children, had no patience with them and wasn’t prepared for Adele, or Jan. Two demanding daughters.
Terrible luck
, he thought.

     Isaac figured that the only way he’d be successful in pretending to be Ryan was to listen to as much of the women’s conversation as he could and try to remember it all.

     Having a low opinion of women, he figured it wouldn’t be too difficult. And so, life continued like before, with only Isaac the wiser. The women need never know they were living with a lunatic.

     For now, Isaac rose at the crack of dawn, just as Ryan had. He’d take off to his workshop and spend the day building furniture.
     He had no use for children. But Frances was quite another story.
    He was crazier than a bedbug, and knew it. And it was quite some time before his real personality began to surface. He couldn’t fake forever who he really was. Not without his medication.

     Isaac opened his sleepy eyes, and noted the clock beside his bed read 5 am. The sun peeked in the bedroom and allowed him to see Frances. He rolled over and stared at her, puzzled as to why she didn’t suspect anything was wrong.

     Frances’ long, thick hair falling from her shoulders, sprawled out heavenly over her pillow made her one beautiful woman to look at. Naïve, but beautiful. He had to wonder why her husband hadn’t come home. Maybe off with another woman? Somehow he doubted that. In any event, he was relieved that he hadn’t shown up. If he did, Isaac would kill him. No one seemed to miss him anyway.

      He was getting use to waking up to his new bedroom. Frances was the best part of his new world.
     The children though, were hell on earth and he knew he’d have to keep his distance.

     Soon, he understood fully what was expected of him. He’d learned everything there was to know about Ryan, all the special things that Frances liked. A lot of nonsense, he thought.

     Frances opened her sleepy eyes, hearing the alarm buzzing. She smiled at Isaac the moment she saw him and pulled back the covers. Isaac reached for her arm, and drew her back.
     “Oh no you’re not.” Frances stopped and allowed him to envelope her in his arms.

     “If you say so.” She slipped back under the covers loving the attention.