We are all travelers, moving through time and space, filling our lives with memories and experiences. I have learned a lot about travel and especially how to enjoy it. And I don’t mean enjoying it through fancy hotels, high priced meals, or exclusive experiences. Although those don’t hurt, what I have really learned is that the true joy of travel is learning about new places. That means not going to a Hard Rock for a cheese burger in London, but going to a pub in Edinburgh and ordering the Haggis. The true joy of travel – for me – is learning new things about the people, the culture, the history, and yes the food (or drinks) of the place. This does not mean that we don’t return to places we have been several times before, it just means we should try to find something new to experience. It is great to go to the places we are familiar with and relive those experiences, but it is also wonderful to try something new.
Case in point – on one of our trips to London we were looking for something to do. A quick search of “what’s happening in London” showed it was restaurant week. And that there was a small event with space available. It was a tour of a tea company, a short class on tea and tasting, as well as a tour of their small collection of “tea related items”. I can still recall the response of – sure why not? The tea was truly amazing and the class was fantastic, but it was the museum that stole the show. They had tea related artifacts going back hundreds of years as well as some of the most expensive tea services in the world. Oh… and our visit for the group was exclusive because they rarely let people into the museum itself. And amazingly we did not pay a fortune to go, we simply signed up for it. My point being that we should strive for adventure when we travel. And while it has taken me years to comfortable with venturing out on my own, now I cannot wait for my next adventure.
Recently I had the opportunity to return to Jerusalem for a visit with family. That was the primary purpose and so there was limited sight seeing. However, when my nephew asked if I wanted to get a bite to eat in the shuk (market) I said “sure why not”. The taxi took a little longer because there happened to be a peaceful protest going on in the area. But we managed to find each other in a crowded space teaming with people of all ages. We found a pizza shop – not much more than a stall – and then on the way back to the car a small bar serving their own IPA’s. Both were really good and mostly we just enjoyed walking through the shuk, talking, and enjoying each others’ company. On Sunday one of my other nephews drove me to Ha’ar Ha Zaisim – the Mount of Olives. It is a massive cemetery on the hillside overlooking Jerusalem and the Old City. We went so I could pay my respects to my Father (may he rest in peace) and say a few prayers.
He then dropped me off at the Kosel – Western Wall – in the Old City. Once again I said a few prayers as is the custom since this is the sight of the Temple Mount. This is considered to be one of the holiest places in the world by Jews, Christians, and Muslims. The wall is from the Second Temple which is more than 2000 years old and the city itself is even older than that. Walking down some of these streets are that old can be hard to remember at times. I spent some time taking in the serenity of the area and reflecting on… well… on life. Then I started to wander through the shuk. The same as the previous night except during the day all of the stores/stalls are now open to sell various items to the tourists and locals alike. Aside from teas, spices, and other fresh or dried fruits you can also buy jewelry, artwork, scarves or shawls, and all kinds of other household items. Some are made for the tourists – yes they sell t-shirts – but if you look you can truly find the diamond in the rough.
While speaking with my wife during the day I told her that I felt like a true “wanderer”. I had visited the Kosel and then I was doing just that – wandering. On the way back to my Mother’s house I got a little lost with the bus – it can be daunting if you don’t speak the language. And I ended up walking around for quite a bit before I was able to get some help and find my way home. This is not the first time I have spent time wandering aimlessly – Paris and Florence previously – and I look forward to doing it again. It is especially enjoyable when you get a chance to get lost and really see the city for what it is. Just a city with regular people going about their daily lives. Which brings me back to my original point. That the true joy of travel is to get out, to see the sights, but also to experience the place. To experience the people, the culture, food, and the history. Be prepared for your journey, for your adventure. But also be prepared to let yourself wander and hopefully have your eyes opened to what the rest of the world has to offer.
I walked into the apartment, dropped my keys in the bowl and paused at the bar before continuing on to the windows. I can’t tell you how many times I stood here, staring out over the city as the lights twinkled in the snow gray sky. These floor to ceiling windows are one of the main reasons I bought this apartment, for this view. And because of the address, which put me right across the street from the park. I watched as the snow started to fall again, putting another layer on the already fresh snow. The barren trees lining the walkway standing tall over the metal benches. The lights flickered as if they still held candles from centuries past. Those lampposts were as much a part of the city’s history as the park, the Liberty Bell, and the Independence Mall. But it wasn’t just the nice views that drew me to the windows, it always seemed to calm me no matter how screwed up the day was.
Today definitely topped the charts of screwed up. I had stopped at my usual coffee shop but as I was walking out some wall street type “didn’t see me” and walked into me. I was used to not being seen by men like him, men who were part of the boys club. Men who didn’t think a woman could do the job I had, the job I had earned. He spilled a full cup of hot coffee all over me and it didn’t just splash over my coat but also all over my blouse, skirt, and boots. I guess the curse I muttered at him pulled him from his phone long enough to mutter a useless apology. Already late I had to call my assistant and have my morning rearranged. When I finally got into the office someone else walked into me and when my purse hit the floor they tripped over it spilling the entire contents of my purse onto the lobby floor. I scrambled to push everything back into my purse and quickly made my way into the office. My assistant – Michelle – was awesome and had my day lined up as always. Every meeting had a folder so I could stay organized and prepared. It wasn’t until much later in the day that I realized my wallet was missing. I thought perhaps I had left it here in the apartment but by the end of the day I knew I hadn’t.
The purchases were starting to pile up quickly and the thief clearly knew what he was doing. By five in the afternoon Michelle had spent hours getting the purchases disputed, the cards turned off, and the bank and police been made aware of it. Of course the security cameras didn’t show anything more than a long coat and a hat pulled too low to even tell if it was a man or a woman that had bumped me. My meetings had all run late by five to ten minutes, and as usual it was not until well after 7pm before I was finally sitting down at my desk ready to start working through my emails. And that’s when the other shoe dropped. Usually Michelle categorized my emails for me so I could pick and choose what to read and respond to, and any emails I got after she left were either up to me to handle or ignore. But I didn’t get one email – I stared at the screen as hundreds of them flooded in. I picked up my phone but the head of the company’s technology team was already calling me. The company was being hacked and it seemed to have stemmed from my emails, and all were dated January 24th, 1822 – an odd date exactly two hundred years in the past.
As if that wasn’t enough, as I walked home from the office a taxi slid close to the curb and hitting a puddle drenched me. Again. So here I stood at the windows, looking out at the falling snow and the pristine white path through the park. The rainwater had mostly dried but I could still feel it stiffen in my hair. I took a deep breath and as I moved to the bedroom stripped off my second outfit of the day. I sat on the edge of the bed, pulled off my boots then put on jeans, my boots, and a flannel shirt. I made my way to the door, grabbed my keys and phone, then a coat and headed out the door. I reached the street and as I headed for the corner sucked in a deep breath of cold air. I had brushed the rain water out of my hair and now welcomed the soft snowflakes landing on my jacket and face. I stood at the corner, across from the park waiting for the few cars to pass. The snow seeming to cover more than just my hair and jacket, but also the anxiety and stress of the day.
I crossed the street and as I entered the park itself I looked back to see my own footsteps the only break in the virgin snow. I walked along the path, realizing that snow covered the street lamps so the light was just a dull yellow haze. I walked to the center of the park and looked in the four directions, surprised to see a set of relatively new footsteps coming from the other direction. I looked around rather quickly then more slowly trying to find the other person who had to be in the park. Oddly the footsteps had reached the center like my own, but then they stopped. It was as if the other person should be standing right beside me, but obviously I was alone. In the moments before I felt the thud of something heavy against the back of my head I heard the swish of a heavy cloth. Then everything went black.
When I woke I blinked several times thinking my eyes were closed, that is how dark it was. Slowly my eyes became accustomed to the darkness and I wondered where I was and why. I started to move my hand to feel the bump on the back of my head but it was stopped short after just an inch or two. I yanked and the pain brought a yelp. I moved the other hand and got the same result. It took a moment to realize my wrists were cuffed to a rope or chain. I shifted my focus to my ankles with the same result. The fear of what might really be happening took hold when I realized that I could feel the cool sheets against my bare back and legs. Even as the idea of being chained and completely naked entered my mind I felt the soft cotton of underwear. I clamped my eyes shut praying it was all a dream but a flicker of light brought them open again.
When I opened my eyes the second time I screamed and stared at the person before me, my mind struggling to understand what I was looking at. Then I was just as confused and screamed a second time. The woman stood in a spotlight and I knew it couldn’t be a mirror because I was laying down and tied up, but the woman before me was a mirror image. Before I could try saying anything again I heard a male voice coming from the distance.
“I know you have a lot of questions and some will be answered. You can scream if it helps you, but no one will hear you. Isn’t that why you got the penthouse? Because there is only one other apartment on this floor and the walls are extra thick.” He paused. “You will not be hurt if you keep your head. As you can see Ms. Smith is your twin so no one will miss you. And anyone who does see minor differences will write it off to the stress of the day. Even your girlfriend – yes, we know all about her – will not know the difference. Just like your co-workers and financial partners. And when we are done, you won’t know how to fix anything. Because you won’t know what we have done. So trust me – this is not just about cleaning out your bank accounts. Anyone can do that. And when we are done you will be free to go, that is all part of the plan. I know you will appreciate a good plan, and this is on par with any of the major acquisitions you have done. So – you could come out of this alive, even if it is not your old life.”
My voice cracked “why are you doing this?”
He laughed and there was something so real in that response that it was chilling. “If you are hungry or thirsty I can arrange for you to sit up.” I heard movement and the light went out that had been spotlighting the woman. Moments later I heard a door open and close, then the click of a deadbolt. I sighed and felt the tears slide down my cheeks but thinking about his words both calmed and frightened me. If they wanted to kill me they would have, so maybe I could come out of this alive. If they knew about Melody then they really did know everything about me, and that added even more to the fear. I don’t know how much time passed before I felt hands on my ankles. Moments later the hands helped me sit up and placed pillows behind me. “Food” was the one word I heard and a moment later I felt a spoon against my mouth. It was hot so I blew on it then swallowed the hot soup. I had to admit it was delicious – with meat, veggies, and good spices.
The person feeding me finished and after they pulled the pillows away so I could lay down they reattached my ankles. Over the next few days I slept most of the time and got fed more of the soup. They added another meal of eggs, toast, and orange juice. They kept the room very dark the entire time and only while I was eating did they add a small sliver of light. I began to realize they were drugging me when I slept through one of the meals, not to mention the constant state of fog my mind was stumbling through. I didn’t see the woman again, and didn’t hear the man’s voice – of course since the feeder did not speak I didn’t know if they were the same person. And now that I thought about it, with no light in the room I also assumed it was a man who was feeding me. It was during one feeding that I became completely aware of how real the situation and under their control I was. I suddenly feared that if I didn’t do something soon they might actually kill me after all. After the soup the person feeding me pulled the bed linens back and I felt their hands on my thighs. My first thought was that they were going to sexually abuse me and I immediately considered fighting back, then I realized that all they were doing was changing a diaper I wore.
When the person left I cried for quite awhile. It was the first time I felt truly helpless since this had started. And when I finished crying it was also the first time I knew I had to find a way out. But between the cuffs, shackles, and sleeping meds I had no idea how that would ever happen. I started by eating less of the food they gave me and tried making small talk with the person feeding. Of course they completely ignored me, which was fine because I didn’t really want to talk but rather to slur my words. The chance finally came when I was being fed my dinner. Their phone buzzed, then again and again. They finally stood up, and as they did I lashed out with my foot – which was always free during feedings – and caught them with my heel against their jaw. As I heard the grunt I said a quick prayer and in answer they fell across the bed and me. With some shifting I managed to get them up over my face and somehow managed to find a ring of keys. I pushed the person off me and heard a gratifying crack when they hit the floor.
I don’t know how long it took before I managed to get the first of the cuffs unlocked. I made quick work of the remaining cuffs and when I shifted to get off the bed – and picked myself off the floor when my legs buckled – I heard the person on the floor groan. I paused, then hit them again with my heel against their jaw knocking them out again. I grinned wondering what my personal trainer would think. I rifled through their pockets, but they were empty so with a little searching I found the their phone on the floor. I raced to the door and slowly opened it squinting and groaning at the pain of the bright light from the hallway. Once I blinked enough to be able to see I realized this was my own apartment. I listened carefully for any sounds and heard nothing. I bolted the door behind me then made my way towards the guest bedroom, but as I reached the door I heard the flush of a toilet and dashed into a nearby coat closet. I listened to the sounds of footsteps move past the closet and then a door open and close.
Okay, first thing I needed was clothing and quietly searched through the closet finding a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. I quickly dressed and carrying the boots made my way to the front door. I was halfway there when I saw the doorknob start to turn and once again dashed back to the closet. I heard the male voice from earlier call for someone named George and after a moment heard the deadbolt of the bedroom turn. I heard two people rush inside the bedroom and leaving the closet ran for the front door. I made it out and raced for the stairs, pausing at the closest set and then ran down the hallway to the other set of stairs. I was two flights down before I finally stopped. I listened carefully for any sounds and quietly pulled on the boots then continued down the stairs. I lived on the twenty-fifth floor and it took me forever to reach the bottom. I reached the lobby door and was about to step through when I realized I had no idea what the bad guy looked like and barely remembered his voice.
I went out through the loading dock and slipped on the slick pavement. I felt a hand on my back and another on my arm. They steadied me and for a brief moment held me close enough to get a whiff of the person’s cologne. The scent seemed to be a mix of woods and oddly the ocean as well. And then everything went black. When I came awake I bolted upright, amazed that I could move my arms and legs. I rubbed my eyes and slowly opened them, my mouth dropping open as I realized I was back in my own apartment. I looked down and saw that I was still wearing the flannel shirt, jeans, and boots from the closet. I stared at the man and woman facing me, the uniformed police officer leaning against a wall held a pad and pencil in his hand. They were all watching me carefully as if I had the answer to world peace.
The man spoke first. “There now Ma’am. Take a deep breath and if you can, please tell us your name and what happened?”
“My name is Allison McDough, this is my apartment.” I looked around to make sure. “It had been a rather bad day at work and I stood watching the snow fall in the park. So I decided to take a walk because it always helps with the stress. I made it to the center of the park, saw a set of footprints in the snow that stopped in the middle of nowhere and that was it.”
The man and woman looked at each other and it was the woman who spoke this time. “Ms. McDough, my name is Detective Edwards. And just to make sure we have this right… you said it was snowing. I’m guessing by the footprints it was a couple of inches at least? Is that right?”
“Yes.” I looked back and forth between them. “Why?”
Detective Edwards leaned forward and spoke slowly. “Well, Ma’am. You see… it’s July.”
My eyes wide, my fingers wrapping around the edges of the flannel shirt making fists tight enough that my knuckles turned white. “July? Ju… July what?”
“July 24.”
I practically screamed at them “WHAT YEAR?”
“Today is July 24, 2017.”
And that’s when everything went black. The last thought that went through my mind was the scariest of all. Somehow I had gone back in time. By four years. Before Melody, before I became CEO, before a lot of things. Four years…
Dammit! I was lost. Again! I slowed the car and then pulled to the side, although on this road there wasn’t really a side. I picked up my phone and jumped to the map app waiting as the circle of death went round and round. It figures there would be no cell service out here since the town I had just driven through looked like it was stuck in the 1950’s. Langiva was a small rural town that truly lives up to the description of a “one light town”. The diner I stopped at had closed at dusk according to the sign in the window. I looked through the window and could see dirty dishes in the sink, and a half full pot of coffee on the counter. Oddly I had noticed the same sign in the general store also. Yes, there was a general store. From what I had read about Langiva the Main Street is about two blocks long and also includes a bank and a mayor/deputy office, as well as a doctor’s office or clinic. I looked out the windshield at the bare trees, the brown grass, and remnants of a recent snowfall, my eyes drawn to the full moon rising in the very dark sky. I noticed that other than the moon there were no stars in the sky. Perhaps it was just too early for them to be as bright as I would expect. One thing about being out in rural areas like this – the stars were usually bright and filled the sky.
I sighed then suddenly felt a shiver run along my arms, shoulders, and down my back. I reached out to turn the heater up when suddenly there was a flash outside of the car. I looked up in the sky for the lightening, my finger poised over the temperature button but all I saw was darkness around me. Then there was darkness inside the car as it shut down. Completely! What the hell?? I reached for the starter button only to see another flash outside of the car. It was weird as it seemed like even the lightening couldn’t quite penetrate the darkness. I was confused by how the darkness and flashes seemed to blend together so effortlessly. I jabbed the starter button several times with no result. The sudden silence that filled the car seemed as palpable as if it was closing in around me. I reached for the door to put the window down and remembered it was electric. Just like everything else. I was about to open the door to step outside when there was another huge flash of lightening. Outside the car it went from being as bright as the sunniest of days of summer and then even darker than it seemed before.
In the thick darkness that surrounded the car I started to notice things outside the car. I squinted into the distance not sure what I was seeing. At first they almost looked like fireflies, but then they started to turn red. The red dots seemed to float in the air aimlessly until I realized that they were actually moving closer to the car. I stared out the window still not sure what I was seeing. It was as if the fog was moving away from the red dots making it more obvious that they were in fact pairs of eyes. I turned quickly in my seat in all directions, now seeing clearly that I was surrounded by a pack of wolves. Despite how thick the darkness was the wolves seemed to penetrate it almost as if it was moving away from them. I felt my back stiffen when I heard the first low growl followed by a cacophony of howls. It may have started low but quickly all of the wolves were doing it and their howls and growls seemed to filter through the glass windows as if they were wide open. I stared out of the windshield at the wolf staring back at me, his sharp teeth clearly visible as he growled deeply at me. Just as I felt the fear fill my body and tears start to roll down my cheeks I heard the screech of a hawk. The screeching was behind me and my body was so frozen in place I couldn’t turn to look for it.
A moment later I looked up at the moon as I saw the hawk swooping down towards the car screeching louder as it approached. As it got closer I could see it was the biggest damn hawk I had ever seen. The howling of the wolves slowly died as the hawk got closer, and still not believing what I was seeing, the hawk landed on the ground behind the wolves. The hawk stretched out its wings and it was so large that they spread out wider than the car itself. The dark fog swirled in between the hawk and the wolves and when it blew aside a moment later there was a man standing there. The wolves seemed to gather near him growling ferociously but none moved closer. The man stood there as resolute as a brick wall, completely unfazed by the wolves even as the pack gathered closer to him. I watched as the man stared at one of the wolves slowly raising his hand, palm facing towards the wolf and I was shocked to see that the wolf started to back away slowly. After a moment the rest of the wolves backed away as well even as they continued growling at him. I couldn’t be sure but it looked like the wolves looked from the lead wolf to the man before starting to move away.
I finally found the strength to breath and move, looking out the side window and watching as the wolves ran off, regrouping as a pack with the lead wolf always in front. I suddenly remembered the man and jerking my eyes back to the windshield saw him standing right in front of the car. He was staring at me and I almost felt like he could see right through me. I tore my eyes away from his to look down at my phone distracted by the flicker of the screen before it went black again. In the moments it took me too look down and back the man had placed both hands on the hood of the car. I yelped and jumped when the car engine came back to life and my phone screen flickered back to life. I stared at the man before me, then he tapped the hood of the car and a moment later he was gone. I didn’t know how or where he went, he was just gone. I looked down at my phone and saw the map app was forefront on the screen and had directions to my hotel. I threw the car in drive and as I raced down the dark road, taking curves way too fast, I could see flashes on either side from the woods. It was as if the red eyes of the wolf pack were back. Then as I hit a straight stretch and picked up speed the eyes drifted away as the moon started to come back out. The tires screeched as I took a corner way too fast and I felt the back end of the car start to slide. The headlights flashed across what looked like a man as I skidded past him. I fought the skid and steering wheel and then, just as I saw a tree coming way too fast it felt like the car was pushed back onto the road. But instead of skidding the other way it straightened out. I glanced at the map on the phone and saw I had another five miles to the highway. It was the longest five miles of my life, my very long life.
I parked the car as close to the hotel as I could. There were plenty of lights in the parking lot but I did not want to be outside a moment longer than needed. My heart was still pounding in my chest and my breathing felt like the air was as thick as soup. I grabbed my purse from the front seat and paused a moment before turning off the engine. I jumped out of the car, grabbed my bag from the trunk and practically ran inside the main entrance. The bright lights of the hotel made me blink several times and I leaned against a wall to catch my breath. I felt a pair of eyes on me and opening my eyes saw this woman staring at me. I gave her my best smile and walked to the counter.
Before I could say anything the woman spoke in a smoker’s hoarse voice. “Ello luv. What is it dearie? Ya look like ya seen a ghost or sumfin?”
I sighed. “Hello. It’s just been a long day and got lost a few times. I have a room. The name is Terrowin.”
“Ay lass. You’re quite late. Don’t worry, we’ve got a nice room fer ya.” As she tapped at the keyboard before her I thought the mix of her accent and word usage seemed a bit odd. Just one more thing for the evening. “Well good news fer ya lass. Your room has been upgraded. We have a suite fit for a queen that you are going to love.”
“You don’t have to do that. I am sure the regular room is just fine.” She shook her head and I watched as her fingers flew across the keyboard and moved the mouse. I heard a whir as she asked if I was still leaving on Friday. “Yes, my meetings will be completed on Thursday so I will leave first thing.”
“Well if you can, you should stay for the extra night. There is always a lot of fun here on Friday nights. We have a live band and lots of people come from the town.”
“The town? You mean Langiva? I need to get home for the weekend. Unfortunately.”
She gave me an odd look, tilting her head to the side. “Langiva? Why would you think that? That town is deserted and no one lives anywhere near it. There hasn’t been anyone living there since the manufacturing plant closed down and that was twenty years ago.” My eyes were wide and staring at her by the time she finished talking. “Well… ‘ere’s your key love. The elevator is down that hallway and you are of course on the top floor.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” I didn’t know what else to say, and truthfully I didn’t know what to think. I don’t even know if the words registered when I said them. I took the plastic key card and made my way down the hallway. There were offices and storage rooms along the way before I approached a small elevator. I didn’t see a button, just a slot and slid my key in. The lights glowed green and the doors opened. I stepped inside and saw no buttons, but the doors closed and the elevator rose to the top floor before re-opening. I stepped out and was surprised to see that at the far end of the hallway was a wall. I could also see that there were three sets of double doors along the hallway and looking at the number on the card approached the furthest room. Outside the room I inserted the key card in a slot and when the lights glowed green I heard the lock click open. I pushed open the door, stepped inside and stared at the space around me. This was a mid-level budget hotel and this room looked like I had just stepped into a Las Vegas suite.
I heard the click of the door close behind me and could feel the deep pile carpet even through my shoes. The room I was standing in was a living space with a couch and several over-sized comfortable looking chairs, an incredibly large TV, several tables, and at the far end floor to ceiling windows. To my right was a round table with four chairs around it, a small fridge and bar against one wall, more floor to ceiling windows, and another large TV. On the left side I could see a powder room and through a second door was the bedroom. I shook my head and walked into the bedroom, once again stopping and staring. The bed was the biggest I had ever seen, and across from it was another large TV. There was another wall of windows with two comfortable looking chairs in front of it. I had passed a closet that looked big enough to be a small apartment, and after putting down my suitcase walked into a door at the far end of the room. By now of course I didn’t think I could be more surprised, but the bathroom was as incredible as everything else. The floor looked like marble and against one wall was a huge walk-in shower, across from that was a large jacuzzi bathtub and against the far wall was a long counter with double sinks. There were two large fluffy bathrobes and a stack of towels that looked thicker and softer than the ones I had at home.
This room was almost as big as my own apartment and this was a better room than some of the top hotels I had stayed in around the world. I walked back into the bedroom and as I got undressed thought about getting something to eat. I knew the hotel didn’t have a restaurant but wondered if there was anything still open. I slipped on one of the soft robes and walked back out into the living room. I was looking around for some menus from local places when there was a knock at the door. I checked the peep-hole and saw a young man standing there in a hotel uniform. I opened the door a bit and saw him holding a bag from a Dunkin’ Donuts. I tilted my head as he smiled broadly.
“Good evening Ma’am. I apologize for bodderin’ you. Ms. Willis – from the front desk – thought you might be hungry. They ain’t much open so I went me to Dunkin’ and without knowing nuttin’ I got ya a bagel sammich, and a couple of donuts. They’s coffee and tea in ya room and I kin show you how if yiz needin’ Ma’am.”
I read his badge “Tommy… thank you this is incredibly sweet. How much do I owe you?” I turned and moved back into the room finding my purse. When I glanced back I saw he was still standing in the hallway, holding the door open. I found a twenty and walked back over handing it to him as I took the bag from him. I watched as he bowed slightly and then backed away from the door. “Good night Tommy.”
“Good night Miss.”
I was exhausted but still managed to eat the bagel and both donuts while sitting on the couch watching the news. Nothing special except for the weather which was supposed to be unseasonably warm for the next few days. I thought back to the woods – a shiver running through me again – and the signs of snow on the ground. Now that I really thought about it that seemed exceptionally odd since it was only the third week of October. But then again, everything about last night now seemed exceptionally odd. I finally dragged myself to bed and snuggled under the heavy blanket and soft sheets. I tossed and turned for quite a bit, the memories of the woods flashing through my mind like Polaroid snapshots. The flashes seemed to move rather quickly from one to the next but then slowed down as the man stood before the car. There was something triggering a distant bell that I couldn’t put my finger on. I finally dozed off and woke to the bright sunshine pouring through the windows. I had forgotten to close the curtains and now that I was awake got up for some coffee.
I slipped on my robe and looking out the window saw that the view I had was over a small grove of trees with a lake beyond. And on the other side of the lake I could see more trees and then what looked like an old warehouse. Even from this distance I could see the windows were broken in most places and completely missing in others. Quite a bit of the large doors also looked swollen and rusted as if they hadn’t been touched in years. I looked to the left of the building, past the two tall chimney stacks sitting against a two story building, and saw what looked like the small town of Langiva. Even from here the town looked completely deserted and run down. My eyes shifted to the right side of the old warehouse and I could just make out what looked like a castle. Which didn’t make any sense at all. Who would build a castle out here? It must have been an old town hall or something like that. This area of the country had some very old towns and also some very untouched areas. We weren’t that far from areas of New York State that were full of revolution and “scary” stories – like Sleepy Hollow.
I must have lost track of time because I had to get dressed quickly and then leave without having my coffee. I was here to meet with a new prospective client today and if all went well this could be an incredibly lucrative deal for the firm. I was one of the partners in the firm – a relatively new and young partner – and had been surprised when they specifically asked for me. Apparently the prospective client was looking at growing the family business and wanted to look at quite a few mergers or acquisitions. As usual I had several analysts that I worked with and that had done the research and put together a package for me. Or at least as much as we could find out about the company since it was privately held. But what I did know was that the company had been around for almost a hundred years. They seemed to have owned or invested in a variety of small businesses, all of which did really well. The one thing I noticed about their businesses is that they were generally pretty small and doing okay or struggling. Until the company bought them and then they turned around quickly and dramatically.
The company name was MacQuoid and despite the research the team did they couldn’t find any more information about the family itself. There was one note towards the end of the report that said the name MacQuoid was medieval in nature and there seemed to be a Scottish reference that meant “Sons of fire”. It didn’t make much sense to me, but then nothing about this trip did. I followed the directions on my phone through winding roads with trees full of the muted fall colors. I had thought we were meeting in an office building but as I drove and didn’t see anything more than the woods or fields I began to wonder where we were actually meeting. I glanced over at the binder the team had put together and focused on the opportunities. But of course I needed to listen to the client to understand what they wanted. I didn’t actually know much about the person I was meeting either. George Henry was his name and that was about all I knew. He was Chief Operating Officer and all we really found was that he had graduated from a small university in Nebraska and started working for the company right after he graduated.
I turned the last corner and the app told me I was about a block from the destination. And that’s when I hit the brakes. This was not possible. I took my foot off the brake and started the car moving towards the wall before me. There were two gigantic wooden gates ahead of me that looked to be ten feet tall, and leading out from the gates were walls of stone that were even taller than the gates. The stone walls weren’t made of bricks or concrete, they were made of stones some of which looked like a small person. As I approached the gates I was surprised to see them start to swing inwards so I kept rolling. Once through I looked from side to side unable to see where the walls ended and since there were woods on each side about two-hundred feet out I couldn’t tell. The dirt road wound toward the castle I could just make out ahead of me. There was no other way to describe it because that is what it was. It looked like a castle out of Downton Abby and as I approached the front doors one of them swung open and a man stood in the open space. I quickly got out of the car and as I approached saw that he was a middle aged man wearing a formal tuxedo with tails.
“Ms. Terrowin I presume. Welcome to Castle MacQuoid. Mr Henry will be meeting you in the study if you will follow me.”
I followed him into an entry way that was a massive room with a flight of stairs on each side of the room curving to meet at the second floor. The room we stood in was two or three stories high and there was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The man turned towards the right and opened a pair of heavy wooden doors leading into the study. Which, of course, was a formal study. Against the far wall were floor to ceiling shelves that were packed with books that looked like the type of old books you would find in special book store. The wall to the right had two very large windows with heavy satin curtains that seemed to hang from the ceilings. In front of the windows was a tall bar laden with several bottles of whiskey and water on one side with various glasses on the other side. In the corner to the right was a small table with a large silver coffee pot, a second pot next to it and cups, saucers, sugar, and a small pitcher of what I assumed was cream. The wall to the left was taken up by a large leather sofa, a coffee table in front of it, and two large leather high backed chairs facing the couch. On my left side was a table with a glass ashtray and next to it what I assumed was a large cigar humidor. Around the walls were a variety of portraits that seemed to go back hundreds of years.
I was startled from my thoughts when the man offered coffee. He poured a cup and added the cream I had asked for. “Mr. Henry will be in shortly, please make yourself at home. Should you need anything please ring the bell next to the door.” He turned to leave, pausing as he turned the doorknob. “My name is Macmillan should you need anything. Please do not venture out, just ring the bell.”
I nodded and moved to the bookshelves. I was about to run my fingers across the spines when I noticed the dates at the bottom of one series. The spine was so worn that it was hard to read the titles or authors, but the gold numbers that said 1769 were easy to make out. I was started by the voice behind me. “Ms. Terrowin. Welcome. My name is George Henry and we are quite pleased you have come all this way to see us.”
I turned to see the man standing in front of the closed doors. George Henry stood tall and straight, wearing a nice three piece suit, dress shirt and shoes, but no tie. His brown hair was perfectly groomed, his eyes seemed locked onto mine, but he had a nice smile. “Thank you for calling us. I am thrilled for the opportunity to work with you. I thought that today we could focus on what you are looking to do with the company, budgets, etc. and then we can talk about some ideas. I am hoping we can also get to meet with the leadership team – get their insight on the company. Different views will help our efforts – especially as we will likely need to engage with them as we move forward.”
He got himself a cup of coffee then sat down in one of the large leather chairs and pointed to the other one. As I sat down I pulled out a large pad and pen from my purse. The pen was a gift from my father and all I knew was that it had been in the family for years. We talked for a while then took a break to get more coffee and it was so easy to talk to George – he insisted on first names – that I didn’t really need to take notes. I was sitting with my back to the door so the first I knew something was up was seeing the look on George’s face change and noticed his back stiffening. He quickly rose so I stood up as well turning towards the door as I did. I stared at the man before me as something about him seemed to strike a chord. But I couldn’t have met him before, there was no way you could forget this man. If I thought George was tall this man seemed to tower over us both. He had thick black hair that was brushed back from his face. He had… a man’s face. Strong, squared jaw, dark eyes, a trim five o’clock shadow, his mouth not much more than a thin gash. He was dressed in jeans, black cowboy boots, a French cuff striped shirt, and a leather vest. George guided my elbow to step closer and as he stuck out his hand the cuff slid back revealing a tattoo on his wrist. The hands that took one of mine was both strong and soft to the touch, his fingers easily engulfing my own.
“Good morning Ms. Terrowin. I do apologize for dropping in. My name is Alexander and I hope you found your way here without trouble. I also hope your room was satisfactory? My wife Jacqueline insisted on giving you one of our suites.” He smiled a thin smile and even as he said we should sit he still held my hand. “Please sit, I don’t want to interrupt. I am sure George has been helpful so far.”
George and I sat back down, continuing to talk about some of the ideas they had and Alexander joined in on the discussion as well. The entire time we were talking he sat with his legs crossed, hands on his knees, and watching me. He spoke quietly and succinctly and I thought I noticed a slight accent. A few times, I saw a look pass between the two men but their facial expressions stayed pretty flat. As the meeting and discussion continued I wanted to ask questions about the castle and the family. As part of our decision to move forward with a new client we not only wanted to know about the company, but also the individuals. When Alexander suggested we have some lunch I was excited to use that as an opportunity to learn more. I was shocked when the study doors opened by Macmillan almost as if he could hear us. As we stood up I turned towards the book shelves and almost immediately found Alexander standing beside me.
“This is quite a collection you have. I see a few that have dates from a hundred years ago or more.”
“Thank you. My mother loved to read so I started to collect them for her. Now how about some lunch?” I turned from the wall and saw both George and Macmillan waiting for us. Macmillan seemed to be perturbed for having to wait for us. Alexander leaned over and whispered “don’t let his scowl scare you, he gives me the same look all the time.”
We stepped out into the entry room and walked down a hallway. As we did I glanced into the rooms on each side, seeing a very formal dining room to the left and a formal living room on the right. As we made our way towards the back of the house the smells of a wonderful lunch were just starting to hit us. We passed what looked like an office and was completely different. All of the rooms so far were a little darker with heavy woods, stone walls, and leather furniture. But this room was lighter with white washed walls, colorful rugs and sun shining through what looked like a wall of windows. They walked through the kitchen to a patio where there was a lavish table laid out with a bottle of Rose’, a cheese platter, basket of breads, and a drink cart several juices and iced tea. As we sat down I glanced up at the back of the castle and its many windows. I thought I saw one of the curtains shifting back into place and a moment later another quick glance confirmed someone was watching us.
We talked all through lunch which was served by a wait staff that were dressed as formally as Macmillan was. A couple of times I could see them glancing – nervously? – at Alexander as they served us. The food and the service was excellent, not to mention the view across the wide open fields. After lunch we stayed outside talking about the business and as much as I learned about George and his family I learned very little about Alexander’s. If it wasn’t related to the business I didn’t get any more of a glimpse as to his personal life. George had to take a business call so we decided to take a break for the day and pick it up the next day. I had planned on taking a few days to lock them in as a client so this was fine with me. Plus once back in the hotel I could catch up on some of my other work. Alexander walked me out to my car and as we approached it I noticed something in his demeanor changing. There was nothing special about my car – other than being an Alfa Romeo – but he seemed very intent on it. As we stood at the front of the car he placed his hand on the hood while I was walking to the driver’s door. I was startled when I turned and looked back. Seeing Alexander standing there like that brought a vivid snapshot of last night to the forefront of my mind.
And with my mind in a tailspin I swore I saw the clouds moving in around us. I closed my eyes to blink away the visions swirling behind my eyes as I reached for the door handle. When I woke I found myself laying on a couch looking up into a pair of pale blue eyes. The fuzziness starting to clear from the sides of my vision and I could see a pale white face looking back at me. “Well… you gave us quite a scare young lady. Are you okay?”
I started to sit up and immediately fell back onto the pillows behind me. When I sat up the second time I took it slowly and the woman before me held a glass of water to my lips. I took a slow sip and felt the cool water coat my throat. “What… what happened?”
I heard Alexander’s voice from the other side of the room. “You reached for the door and just… passed out.”
The woman standing before me looked over at him before smiling back at me, but there was something in her eyes. “Alexander dear, why don’t you give us a minute then if she feels up to it you can take Ms. Terrowin back to the hotel.” She turned back to me “unless you would like a doctor to check you out.”
I glanced over as he paused then turned and left the room. I sipped the water slowly and took a longer look at the woman before me. She was beautiful in a classic way, her long red hair hanging down her chest in a tight French braid. Her pale blue eyes were open wide and I felt like I could see something deep inside them. Her lips were a natural pale pink and her skin was the smoothest I had ever seen. When she took my hand in hers I could feel the chill of her fingers then slowly the heat between us growing. She wore a long dark blue dress with a high collar and as she shifted her legs I saw it had a high slit up the side revealing toned legs. The dress had long sleeves to her wrists, but as she reached out for the glass I could see several odd tattoos on the underside along with a thin scar. Seeing my eyes moving to her wrist she pulled back and I watched as her eyes seemed to soften.
Her voice dropped to a soft whisper. “Ms. Terrowin… Olivia. You should go as soon as you can. It’s not safe for you here. And not just in this house.” I looked confused as if I didn’t understand her. “You didn’t just pass out, there was a bright flash as you and Alexander both touched the car. Then you fell back. Alexander also dropped to the ground on one knee and I have never seen him weakened. That can’t happen.”
I blinked several times then my eyes went wide as she leaned in and kissed me on the mouth. She then moved her mouth to my neck and kissed it several times across a particular spot. I could feel her soft lips caress my skin as the pulse in my neck seemed to increase right below her touch. She finally pulled back and her lips seemed to have shifted to a slightly darker red. “Who… who… are you?”
“I am Jacqueline, his wife. So trust me… I know you are smart. But… just go. He always gets what he wants.”
As she hugged me I could see a tear sliding down her cheek and then I could feel the dampness against my own cheek. I hugged her back and spoke without even thinking. “Why don’t you drive me back to the hotel. They can follow to take you back. But we can stay in my room and talk.”
She took my face in hers and kissed me again. “He will not allow it.” Then she rose and as she stepped back and smiled softly. “Go… far. Ask yourself, why did he ask for you specifically.”
Then before I could react she turned and quickly left the room. I sat blinking and thinking about everything she had said. And done. I raised my fingers to my neck, feeling the soft space she had kissed and could feel my pulse pounding through the artery that was there. My head hurt from all of the questions and confusion. I rose from the couch and as I approached the doorway Macmillan stepped into view. I felt… fine. No… better than fine. I felt stronger than ever before, like I could do anything. I told him to tell Mr. MacQuoid that I was leaving and then headed out the front door. I was halfway to my car when I heard footsteps behind me. I kept walking and then slowed as I heard his footsteps quickly approaching me. I saw my bag sitting on the ground next to my car and turned just as he reached me.
“Ms. Terrowin. Are you sure you feel up to driving? I can have Macmillan follow if you would like me to drive you?” I gave him my best smile and noticed that he faltered and then stepped back as I reached the car. “I just… want you to be careful.”
“Thank you Mr. MacQuoid. I am fine and will be careful.”
I leaned down, picked up my bag and hesitated as I reached for the door handle. I glanced over and saw Alexander take a half step back. The car beeped as I unlocked it and internally made me jump. I slid into the front seat and pressed the starter grinning as the engine growled to life. I glanced through the window then lowered it as I pulled it closed behind me. There was something in the air between us and I realized that Alexander had not stepped any closer to the car. There was something in his eyes and where they had been open and soft earlier they looked harder and darker now. I slipped the car into drive, waved and pulled away from the castle. When I looked into the rear view mirror I saw Alexander standing there and rubbing his right hand as if it had been injured. I drove through the open gates and followed the directions on the app which took me quickly back to the hotel.
I quickly made my way up to the room and glanced at my laptop sitting open on the desk. Instead I decided to take a long hot shower and turned to go into the bedroom. I stripped off my clothes and walked into the bathroom. I stopped and laughed staring at the oversized shower, the jacuzzi tub, and the large fluffy robes. Hearing my own laughter felt really good and soon I was just laughing at nothing. I finally moved to the tub starting the water as I checked out the liquid soaps finding one that was bath oils. I poured some in, closing my eyes and letting the scent of roses fill my mind and the space around me. Just as I was about to slip in I heard the chirp of my phone as a new message came in. I sighed and got it from the bedroom carrying it back into the bath tub with me. The text was from Jacqueline checking up on me so I texted to say I was fine.
And as I slumped back into the tub I truly felt like I could be fine. I opened the Calm app on my phone and started to play some soft wave sounds that always soothed me. It wasn’t long before the photographs of my memory started playing in random order behind my eyes. I mentally found myself putting them in order hoping that would help wrap my mind around things. It all seemed to have started with the wolves, then the man at the car – was he a protector? Then getting this room – seemed okay coming from Jacqueline but was she part of everything else? Today was something else entirely. Everything had seemed completely normal – well except for the castle and all of the dark, heavy, overly masculine furniture. And then there was the “accident”. My mind decided to put the memory of Alexander alongside the memory of the man the night before and although I couldn’t be sure they certainly looked to be of the same build and with the same hair color and style. And what happened when I touched the car – was it coincidence? Or did it have something to do with the fact that Alexander was touching it at the same time? After all, the man from last night had gotten my car and phone to re-start or was that just a strange coincidence? Another strange coincidence.
My thoughts were broken when I heard the chirp of my phone. I glanced at the text and frowned. Then a second text and I frowned again. The third message was short and would ultimately change my life. History is so important. The messages were from Jacqueline and I once again wondered if she was just a part of it all – whatever “it all” was. I sighed and stepped out of the tub. After getting dried I slipped on one of the oversized robes and went out to living space. I glanced at my laptop again and decided I really did need to check in. While it started up I poured myself some water and broke open a package of nuts. I sat down at the desk, answering emails and typing up my notes from the meeting this morning. I forced my mind to focus on the work aspect and put aside all of the other questions still running through my mind. I remembered the messages from Jacqueline and after finishing up the last handful of emails I decided to check the links.
The first of the links was a website that had the MacQuoid family tree and history. I was shocked to see just how far back their history went. And peppered throughout the tree were other Alexander MacQuoids, not to mention his Father – who according to the tree was named Malcom – and I could see just as many Malcoms as I did Alexanders. I could see that there was also a link to some of the family history. The reference was in the middle of some other information about William Wallace, the Scottish Knight who was one of the leaders during the Scottish War of Independence. I was starting to think it must have been someone different since the family tree had only gone back to the 1600’s. But as I read more the reference described the Laird of the MacQuoid Clan as a tall formidable force of a man with jet black and deep dark eyes. It also specifically named him as Alexander a man who had taken the reins after his father Malcom was murdered. According to the website the clan leader Malcom was known to be a staunch supporter of Wallace but also believed they needed to find a peaceful solution. The only information they had about Malcom’s murder was that he was found in his bed with his own knife-like weapon called a sgian dubh hilt-deep in his chest.
I was starting to think this sounded like a movie plot more than anything. And also wondered if all of this could really be the same family. I went back to the main page and as I was reading a little more about the family I found another reference that talked about the family always being involved in many different businesses. It was usually children or family members that worked in those businesses but as the history got more current – even in the late 1800 and 1900’s the family was known to own several different businesses in their areas. Then it talked about the family moving from Scotland to the United States before the revolution, but there was no mention of the family playing any role in the war itself. I was about to look at the second link wondering what else I could possibly learn about the family when I saw another reference to the death of the Clan Laird from the 1300’s. This new link implied that there was a lot more to the murder than just his death. The link talked about references to a mistress that the Laird had with a woman from England. There was not much known about the woman except that they had met on a trip the Laird had taken to visit with the king. But it was not known how she came to be at the castle or if they were still involved. I jumped up from the table, the chair I sat falling backwards and landing with a crash behind me.
I stared at the screen the words before me pulsating as if daring me to click the new link. It was just two words and they seemed to grow bigger as I stared at them. I gulped and felt like my mouth was filling with cotton as it dried up. The name of the mistress was Olivia Terrowin! I sat back down and started to read with a fury, gulping down the water beside me.The mistress was thought to be an assassin that used her beauty to get close to powerful men and women. She was capable of anything and killed without any concern or remorse. The King had always been known to use women as spies because they were often ignored or could get close to his enemies through their wives. There was a distinct reference to this particular woman because she seemed to be better than any of them. There was even a suggestion that this assassin had found a way to poison the King after he slapped her. And because of that rumor she had to escape to France and live under an assumed name. The assassin’s French name had been DeHaven and it was believed that she married and had a daughter as an only child. Despite marriages through the family tree the name DeHaven kept coming back up.
The website went on to say that the DeHaven family came to the United States during the 1700’s. And while the information from that time was scarce there were references to a woman who took up residence in Philadelphia. That woman’s name was Olivia Terrowin DeHaven. I could feel the sweat starting to bead on my forehead and with trembling fingers I clicked the link to the immigration information. I stared at the screen as it started to fill-in, the formal immigration papers yellowed and the writing barely visible. I leaned in to read the name and origin as they confirmed the information. I was so focused that I barely noticed the photograph forming below. Despite the yellowed and faded photograph I had no trouble making out the long ponytail, the big eyes, and soft smile. And despite being black and white I was sure that the hair was copper red and the eyes would have been an emerald green. Just as sure that I would recognize that smile anywhere. I should, it was the one I saw in the mirror every morning.
I slowly rose from the desk my eyes locked on those looking back at me. I practically screamed when there was a knock at the door. I turned and walked to the door, looking through the peephole and taking a step back. I stepped forward and placed my hand against the door feeling a surge of strength pushing through my arms. I grabbed at the handle and felt a second surge race through my arms then taking a deep breath pulled the door open. I stared into the dark eyes facing me, the mouth set in a tight thin line. “Alexander…” I paused as I saw his eyes dip to my chest where the robe had fallen open. I spoke without even thinking. “What a pleasure to see you again. I know we said we would meet tomorrow afternoon but I am very glad you decided to come tonight. Why don’t you come in?”
I turned my back on him and moved back to the desk quickly locking the laptop to dim the screen. I heard the door close behind me and thought about what I had read. I could feel Alexander approaching me and smiling turned to face him. “I came to bring you something that belongs to you. I have been waiting a very long time to return it.”
As he brought his hand forward holding a long thin wooden inlaid box I gave him my brightest smile. I was surprised by some of the thoughts rushing through my mind. He held the box towards me and deftly flipped open the lid. I stared into the box at the beautifully carved handle, the double edged blade of the knife reflecting the light of the sun from the windows behind me. Before I could reach for the sgian dubh Alexander dropped the box and held the knife towards me. I was shocked by this move and as I backed away from him found myself looking around the room for a weapon. But then I remembered what I had read about the assassin and how she had used her beauty and charm to distract her potential victims. I smiled at him as seductively as I could and slowly pulled at the sash of the robe letting it slide open just a bit.
Before I could say anything else he practically spat at the words. “Your evil won’t work on me woman! You made a mistake when you killed my father! Not only did you leave behind this weapon, but I am sure if we did a DNA test we would know for sure it was yours. But more importantly – when I removed the sgian dubh from his chest there was just enough life left in his heart to shift his energy to me. That was your big mistake! You should have pulled it out to take it with you. Someone with your talents should have known that the person who removed the blade would get his power. That mistake has kept me alive ever since and it has taken me this long to find you and I will make you pay for his death. I almost caught up to you in Philadelphia before the revolution but it seems even then you had…”
He stopped talking and stared at the long blade that had appeared through his chest. The blood started to stain through his dark shirt and spill out onto the floor. His eyes went wide as he dropped the sgian dubh, the sound filling the silence as it clattered against the floor. I stepped forward, picked up the weapon from the floor and closed my eyes. In that brief moment everything I read flashed before me – not as words but as memories. I smiled into his dimming eyes and thrust it through his chest and into his heart. You could almost hear the two blades as the hit each other. As I held the weapon the life before this moment became more that just a memory, but a life I have lived. I glanced to my right as Jacqueline stepped around his back and grinning broadly moved beside me. She kissed my cheek softly and then raised a hand to Alexander’s cheek. “Oh my poor dear. You should have looked closer to home for a Terrowin heir. You missed the biggest lesson from your father – it is the mistress you should fear more than anyone.”
I smiled and kissed her cheek. “Alexander… there is a reason why you still live even as your life’s blood is emptying across the floor.” I grabbed the hilt of the sgian dubh and pulled it free of his chest, the impact causing him to collapse to his knees.
Jacqueline spoke softly. “I have known for years who Olivia was but it took patience to set this up. To let you find her with my help even though you never recognized that I was behind it. As soon as I saw her today I knew I had been right. I knew you could not resist coming here, thinking you had outsmarted the greatest assassin in the world.”
I reached down and tilted his chin up, the dark eyes growing dimmer as his breathing became more labored. “There is something else you should know. I did pull the weapon from your father’s chest. But I heard you coming down the hall and had to replace it hoping you would leave it in place so I could continue my quest. Since you thwarted that plan I had to find a second person to complete the transfer.” I licked the blood from the long sharp blade and smiled into his saucer large eyes. “Your sister loved me more than your father and since she was a woman you had no idea she held the same power. She was more than happy to give it to me along with her life.”
Jacqueline knelt beside him and whispered “I have put up with your crap for all too many years my love. I was thrilled when I found your research into Olivia because it confirmed that I had always felt I was more than another of your women.”
I moved behind Alexander and paused as he started to straighten his back. I knew that his power was doing everything it could to fight the physical death. “Now to end this.” I grabbed the handle of the sword and yanked it free then swung it like a baseball bat. I hit his neck perfectly and the sharp blade sliced through his skin, cut the arteries, and severed his spinal chord easily. We could almost hear his final breath escape as the head rolled from his shoulders to the floor. I could feel the power from within his body surge through mine as the memories of the last nine hundred years rushed through my being. This final phase filled my soul with the power of his evil which was then turned to good by my more stronger aura and power. Jacqueline was smiling up at me and then walked to the door and opened it letting Macmillan in to the room.
He nodded and seeing me dropped to a knee before coming closer. He whispered “M’lady I am yours to command.” He dipped his head so as not to look at me any longer than needed.
I closed the robe and tied the sash as I moved towards the bedroom. “Clean this mess up Macmillan. I need another bath. All of this has made me tired.” I paused “Jacqueline, have you brought my things?” I paused at the door and grinning turned to face them more fully. “Men… when will they ever learn.”
It may be taking me quite awhile to get these posts down on paper, but that should be a sign as to how much this trip meant to me. The memories are dimming a bit, but the photos will always be with me. And then I just have to see one word, one picture or something simple and they all come rushing back. On Monday we were still in Florence, but quite a bit of the museums are closed for the day so we took the opportunity to take the train to Pisa. The weather was supposed to be cloudy with a good chance of rain, but we didn’t travel this far to be stuck inside due to weather.
On the train ride to Pisa it did in fact rain, but by the time we got there it had stopped. And as we walked through town to get to the Tower and Duomo the day cleared and became quite beautiful. It took us about twenty minutes to get to the tower and it was through what seemed like just any other town. We made our way down the pedestrian only streets, passing shops of all kinds and kept moving since this was on Christine’s “bucket list”. Its kind of cool for me to help her hit some of those bucket items, especially considering just how much traveling she has done.
We were still trying to figure out how to get there – since we had a vague map from a local hotel – when out of nowhere we looked up and in the distance could see the tower itself. My first thought sounds rather obvious – “wow the tower really is leaning”. But you don’t quite realize just how much until you see it in person. And as we drew closer you can really see just how much of an angle there is. Even standing right there, it is still conceivable to think “okay so its a bit of an angle”. But then you climb the 254 stairs to the top and really start to feel the angle. Not only do the stairs narrow to a little more than shoulder width at times, but they angle to the extreme and its hard not to lean against the walls.
The views were once again incredible and despite the earlier rain, the clouds had cleared and we could see for miles. There is a cathedral – Duomo – there as well and it is just as beautiful as the other cathedrals I have see on this trip. The cathedral was a massive room with stone columns, balconies and an amazing altar. In addition there were several smaller altars along the sides dedicated to specific saints. When we finished touring through the Tower and the various other sites there we headed back to the train. Along the way we stopped for an incredible pizza lunch and then strolled through many of the shops before getting back to the train and then back to Florence.
There was one part of this day, and the day before that will not only stay with me but touches me. And it reminds me why I have learned to love traveling. You truly never know where the day will take you. When I was in Florence and had climbed the top of the Duomo there I had been taking pictures, videos, and selfies when this young girl – maybe 12 or 13 – comes up and asks if I speak Spanish. I say no, but she motions to take a picture and I nod. To my surprise there about a dozen other girls and a couple of ladies with them. I take several pictures with her phone of the group and as much of Florence as I can get. When we are finished she motions for my phone and takes about a dozen photos of me as well. On the way back down we get caught in a traffic jam and while waiting the group of girls starts singing. It was a fun time and made me smile thinking of how much they must be having on their trip.
While Christine and I had been riding the train to Pisa I told her the story and she thought it was very nice. While we were walking around Pisa – and it was rather crowded – I passed a couple of girls and to my surprise realized one was the girl from Florence. I stopped, smiled and waved but I could tell she didn’t quite remember me. Then I made the motion of taking a picture and held up my phone. Suddenly her eyes went wide and with almost no warning she vaulted the few feet into my arms and gave me a big hug. After several minutes she realized that Christine was watching us. I managed to introduce them and only then did I learn the young girl’s name – Kristen. I guess you have to travel six thousand miles sometimes before a Christine and a Kristen can meet each other over a photo opportunity. Of which she insisted on taking our pictures at the base of the tower.
Tuesday 12/3/2019 – Florence
On Tuesday morning we got up early and made our way to the Galleria di Academia where the statue of David is kept. This was our last day in Florence and I was a little sad to say goodbye, but thrilled at what Rome had in store for us. We had an appointment to see David at 815 and since we were not sure how far it was we were up and out of the hotel by 730. It turned out to be incredibly close so we stepped into a local cafe and had a bite then back in line we went. We were the first in line and it worked out quite well. After security we went straight to the statue and since the people behind us got hung up we had about five minutes all to ourselves.
The definition and attention to detail of the statue doesn’t quite come through in photos, but when you have the time to take it all it is incredible. And walking around it several times I realized that David is actually holding the rock in his hand, the slingshot running over his shoulder and down his back. The museum held quite a few well known statues, but also had a room of samples. These are cut out of alabaster or other stone for the future “owner” to decide if the artist should go ahead or make any changes. One of the other statues is called The Rape of Sabine, which is more about a young man overcoming an older man more than it is about anything else. Both David and this statue are also in one of the squares that I had wandered through earlier in the week.
We took a long walk back to the train, passing by the Duomo and eventually ending up on the Ponte Vecchio. Which was kind of a thrill for me because now I could experience it with Christine. The past few days were wonderful and I took away some great gifts – Christmas for Christine – and even more better memories. The food, the culture, and the people these past few days have been a real treat and I wish I could share more pictures with you so that hopefully you too will see what all the fuss is about.
A new city and a new cafe. Well this time it is more of a pizzeria, but I am sure the food will be just as good. I sit here at a large square, across from our hotel – the Grand Minerva. The hotel seems quite nice even if I have only spent about an hour there so far. I have five things on my list for Florence, including the Duomo which was the only thing that was preplanned. After spending four hours to take a twenty minute walk I can say without a doubt – I am glad to have the extra day here in Florence. What a city. The walk from the train station and the hustle and bustle took five minutes, and then I was in this beautiful square. It is surrounded by narrow, winding streets full of high-end as well as local, small stores and cafe after cafe. One minute you are on a small street full of people shopping or just walking past and the next you are surrounded by Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci, Tiffany, Burberry, and too many more to mention.
As I said I have five things on my list. I was out for four hours and only got to three of them. And honestly one of them was by accident. One wrong turn being distracted by the beauty and history of the city and I found myself at the Ponte Vecchio. I also got sidetracked in one of the many Piazzas by a march/display of people dressed as they would have centuries ago. A slow walk back – after some delightful gelato of course – and I made my way to Santa Croce. It amazes me that such a plain looking church could actually be so amazing. It is the burial place of so many including Galileo and Michelangelo. There is also the world renowned Florence Leather School. This is the kind of city it is with a seemingly odd combination of churches and businesses which also seem to go together quite easily. The mix of old – ancient really – and new is evident everywhere and just makes you stop and stare. There is just no way to ignore the beauty and wonder of this city.
Sunday, 12/1 – Florence, Duomo
I will start this off with some “simple” stats about the Duomo and the Bell Tower. They are both incredibly high. The Duomo is 463 steps to the top, and the Bell Tower is 414 steps. All in a total of 877 steps with views that cannot be found anywhere else in the city. These are not new steps, so they are well worn, uneven, and incredibly narrow. So close that at different times you have to really squish yourself against the wall just so others can get by. The tower is square so the stairs were also, but still just as uneven and narrow. The tower did have a couple of stops along the way – with each stop being a full wide open level offering its own views of the city. And of course an option to go back down. But then I didn’t travel this far just to go back down.
I was early for my timed walk up the Duomo, and accidentally ended up starting up the steps to the bell tower. I honestly didn’t know that’s where I was until I got to the first level. And as breathtaking as it was from the first level, I knew I had to keep going. As I climbed it and looked out over the city I was amazed at the idea that this building was built in the 14th century and was a design so spectacular and innovative that several other cathedrals followed the design. But I also considered that while we often focus on the design of places like this, actually building it must have taken as much of a feat. Building this must have taken on a life of its own, and you couldn’t just say that the builders were just that. They had to be artists as much as the designers, putting all of their craft and love to work in this building.
After climbing the tower I waited in line for the Duomo only to find out that I had been in the wrong line and ended up in the chapel itself. I found the gift shop and the woman behind the counter didn’t speak English well, but she used a toy model to show me where I needed to go. Since I had a timed entrance, the guard allowed me to skip the line – or he felt bad for the lost American. The club to the top of the Duomo was long, curved, and narrow. And as I approached the top there were a lot of stops as we had to wait for people going back down to pass. The top of the Duomo was no less incredible than the bell tower and I had to take several turns around the top to make sure I didn’t miss anything. As I headed back down though we got caught in one of the narrow – but flat – passageways for about fifteen to twenty minutes while we waited for people coming up. Who knew there would be more traffic in the Duomo than outside of it.
After the Bell Tower, the Duomo, and the Bapistry (no steps) I made my way to the museum. My heart and mind wanted to see and learn more, but unfortunately my legs weren’t in it. As I walked back to the hotel I thought about my day. Yesterday I had walked around Florence seeing some of the beauty it has to offer from the ground. Today I saw it from way above ground level, but it was just as beautiful if not more so. The red roof tops, the mountains, the clouds drifting in and out carrying a threat of rain that would eventually come, but for now it was just breathtaking.
Christine and I finally, after talking about it for fourteen years, took a wonderful vacation to Italy. We were supposed to go to Venice while we were there, but there was bad rain storms and flooding. So with a week to go before the trip we decided to put it off and go to Venice on the next trip, because one thing for sure – we would be going back. The best way I could sum up this trip is to say that it was incredible. Everywhere we went there was a chunk of history, and not just history from the “recent” past but from centuries ago. There was beauty in the history, the buildings, the people, the food, and the culture. But it was also the people that made the country come alive. It didn’t seem to matter whether they spoke English or not, because they always found a way to communicate. The following are some of the notes I wrote while I was having dinner or just sitting and admiring the country.
Friday, 11/29 645pm – Rome
Sitting at a cafe, outside in the cool, comfortable air. The rain from earlier still fresh on the cobblestone street leaving random puddles along the Via Del Corso. This is a shopping street that only allows for one car to pass once in a while. The Pinot Grigio blending nicely with the fried Calamari and then the fresh pasta which came next. When in Rome do as the Romans – and surely must dine on pasta. I didn’t know it at the time but the best part of the evening was having dessert – what would become a staple for me – Tiramisu and a double espresso.
The small cobblestone street is just a block from the hotel. No cars here, just people going to and from wherever. The world wanders or streams by, carrying shopping bags as plentiful as the motorbike or vespa helmets. After walking past this cafe for the past couple of days I had to stop by, and I am glad I did. The Cacie e Pepe was served with home made Tommarelli pasta. It is a thick, rope like pasta/spaghetti and served with a very light cheese, butter and better sauce. And as I said, it only seemed appropriate to end the night with a plate of Tiramisu, double espresso and a shot of Limoncello.
Our first couple of days here in Italy were full of some of the “typical” touristy efforts. We saw the Spanish steps and the Trevi Fountain, both of which were just incredible. Its amazing to think that at one point they were just a flight of steps to get from one place to the next. Or just a fountain. But once you get there you realize they represent so much history, and are as much a part of the city as anything else. The steps may still be a way to get from one place to another, but for a lot of people they mean a lot more. I saw both during the day with Christine then later I went back at night. That is when the fountain looks really spectacular, with the lights turning the water from a light blue to a deep green. We also found a Piazza nearby that was more than just a square (since it was round) but it too had stairs that led to beautiful gardens. And an amazing Da Vinci museum that illustrated just how much of a genius and ahead of his time – by centuries he was.
This is how you sit, relax and let time go by. Enjoying a good meal, good service and manage to meet a family traveling from America. Christine went to Paris to spend time with some friends, so the only reason for me to know the time is to know when she lands. As I sit thinking about the past day or so I can only imagine what the rest of the trip will be like. If this is what Rome is like – and I have only seen a very small portion – then I can only imagine what Florence will be like. Or the rest of Rome when we return next week. This is truly the gift of travel. Being able to put aside the worries and stress of work and instead focus on life. To sit at a cafe and enjoy a good meal with no rush, no hassle, and no fuss. Thinking – it will be there tomorrow. The gift is to learn, to taste, to see and smell a new culture. To just relax.
Here it is – the first week of the new year and the new decade. If you ask most people they are starting to take stock in their lives and coming up with resolutions, or contemplating life-changing decisions. For some people this means standing in front of a mirror and asking themselves what it is about themselves they need to change. Some will look back on 2019 and consider what they didn’t accomplish or perhaps what went wrong. I won’t lie – in some ways I have been doing the same for the past few days. Looking back on 2019 and thinking – wow, that did not go as I had planned it. And boy are their things that I need to change – or worse – fix in myself. As I sit here watching one of the NFL playoff games I have to smile because in some ways the football teams playing will be doing the same. If they didn’t there is a good chance they wouldn’t make it past the first round.
But that is not the same with our lives. In football if you lose a playoff game you get a few months off and then get to start over. I sometimes think it would be nice to get to start over on January 1st. To forget about what happened in the past year and start over with a whole new you. I don’t want to forget about what happened last year – in fact, I have learned some very important things about my life and myself. Last year was not a good year for me, but it was part of my life and it is now a part of what makes me – well, me. Not only that but I don’t really want a whole new me. Saying I need to change means I don’t like who I am, and that is never a good way to start off a new year. Instead I want to improve different parts of me, making me a better version of me. And considering it is 2020 – saying a “Me 2.0” seems to fit rather nicely. There are so many cliches when you cross years like – its 366 blank pages to write your story. I like to think I have a pretty good story going, so again – not going to write my whole story in one year, instead I will work on a new chapter.
As I said, when I think back on 2019 and look forward to 2020 I have decided to improve on some things. And to do so I have to look at 2019 and consider what happened. I had a couple of serious health issues and one that is literally a pain in the back. I also lost my Father and my Mother is getting a little more fragile. What does all of this mean to 2020 and improving myself – it means I have to focus on my health more. It means that I have to continue to find things that can help and listen to others – like adding yoga to my life. It means that I have to eat healthier and continue to go see the doctor when I need to. And it means starting off the year with a 5k power-walk or taking the long way to and from the train for work. For the rest, I am going to focus on me and my family and that means figuring out a better work-life balance. And go back to the things that make me happy – like reading and writing (hence the first blog in quite awhile).
Another important thing for 2020 is to focus on the good things that life has to offer. I don’t want 2019 to seem like it was all bad, because it wasn’t. I still got to travel – including going to Italy for the first time in my life. And spend two and half days by myself – Christine took a weekend in Paris to meet up with some friends – wandering around both Rome and Florence by myself. That reinforced to me just how much I have come to love travel, to learn about different people, different cultures and enjoy different foods. The food – please don’t get me started on just how good the food was. In fact, that might end up being a whole other blog. I guess at the end of the day (or blog) what I am simply saying is that a new year doesn’t mean you have to change, it doesn’t mean you should forget about the past year. Instead consider the past year and ways that you can continue to improve yourself, and take both the good and bad from the past year and use them to build your own “Me 2.0”.
If you have read my blog before you know how much I love to travel. This is all thanks to my wife, because even before we were married she showed me how enjoyable it can be to travel. Part of the joy that I have in traveling is meeting new people, learning new customs, experiencing new things, and trying new foods. Part of the reason I enjoy going to Europe is for the history and how similar, and yet different these countries are from America.
A perfect example is the game of football. While they carry the same name, football refers to two different games between the United States and Europe. In Europe “football” refers to the game we (Americans) call soccer. In Europe there is no game like American football. While the two games are very different, there is one common factor between them. The passion that the fans have about their teams. And this comes through whether watching the game in your local pub or bar, or sitting at the game watching it in person.
This past week I was lucky enough to experience American football in London when the Philadelphia Eagles played the Jacksonville Jaguars. The Eagles have been struggling this year, like a lot of teams after winning the Super Bowl the year before. This game was no different, but at the end of the game they were the winners with a final score of 24-18. It was an incredibly exciting game, and our seats were good enough that we were sitting quite close. The pictures below were taken with my iPhone and I did zoom in, but hopefully this gives you an idea.
Truthfully, as incredible as the game was, the really special part were the people that we got to meet. I sat next to a Minnesota Vikings’ fan, and there were also fans of the Denver Broncos, Baltimore Ravens, Seattle Seahawks, Greenbay Packers, New England Patriots, and other teams. Everyone was incredibly friendly – no matter which of the two teams playing they were rooting for. This was a Jaguars’ home game, and they had a lot of fans there, but everyone really got along quite well. And the fact that this game had a record attendance of more than 85,000 people didn’t dampen anyone’s enthusiasm.
Before the game, Christine and I had a chance to talk to a some British fans who were there as much to enjoy the game as they were to root on either of the teams. This also gave me a chance to see some of the foods they eat at a game – like a two foot long sausage with pulled pork and macaroni and cheese. Throughout the day before and for a couple of days after we ran into Eagles’ fans who never shied away from a chance to give the Eagles’ chant. Even at a showing of Hamilton (the musical) we went to see on Monday night.
I took the opportunity this trip to get a haircut and cut-throat razor shave at Ruffians. And we also took a tour of Parliament, the Banqueting House, the Queen’s gallery at Westminster Abbey, the British museum, and after a tasting at Newby Teas a tour of the Chitra Collection. This was a special showing of a private collection of tea pots, cups, and full services. The collection was amazing and a special opportunity being able to visit it. And then we capped off the visit by celebrating our Anniversary with a formal, afternoon tea at one of our favorite hotels – the Savoy.
London and the UK are one of our favorite places to visit. But, it is traveling in general that Christine has shared her passion for. It is the opportunity to learn about new things, new people, foods, and seeing new things. As long as we have been drinking tea, I learned new things about the differences in teas – like the exclusive white teas or green teas. I also learned about the shadow cabinet positions that the Opposition party holds.
I don’t know where our next adventure will take us, but I am looking forward to it. Our vacations may not always be relaxing, which is just fine since it means we are experiencing new things. I don’t know if I would have ever had the chance to experience some of these things, but I will be forever grateful that Christine chose me to share it with. You may never thing you have the time, or the money to travel, but I will always recommend it. Every time a vacation ends I am happy to be home, but I am even more happy to review the photos and be reminded of the experiences of that trip. I hope you can find the opportunity to create your own adventures.
As Father’s day approaches I find myself thinking about “it”. About being both a Father and being a child – or in my case, a son. My Father isn’t a young man anymore, and he isn’t as healthy as he used to be. I was reminded of this even more when I recently visited him. He is older than I remembered and frailer than he used to be. But that is what happens when we get old.
My Father hasn’t always had an easy life, but he has had a good life. He hasn’t always had money, but he has always shared what he has. He always made sure that his family was cared for, and not just his four children, but his growing family. His twenty-plus grandchildren and at least as many great-grandchildren. It is still a growing family, and it is an extended family. My mother always “adopts” new family members, because they might be away from their own family. Or just because they need a hug. My Father wasn’t really one to give hugs when I was young. That was my mother’s job, but I always knew he loved me.
My Father taught us about the important things in life. To love the people close to you. And appreciate the blessings of having those people in your lives. He taught us to work hard, and to care about the job we do, to be proud of it. No matter what it is we do, make sure we do it the best we can. Ultimately, that is what is important – people will always listen to what we say, but our actions are much more important.
When I meet strangers and I tell them who my parents are, their faces tend to get a little brighter and their smiles a little broader. Then they proceed to tell me how my parents helped them, by opening their home to these “strangers”. To inviting them in and making them a part of their family. There was also an extra seat at the table, and extra bite of food, and even an extra spot to lay their heads.
The other night before dozing off my Father reminded me of some of his experiences as a child growing up in small town America. And it reminded me of going back to see the house I grew up in. As with most kids – we think our house and the trees around it are huge. It also reminded me of going back to visit it as an adult and seeing the house wasn’t as big I thought. I smile when I think of how our memories are different as children and as adults.
My Father is struggling with his failing memory, and sometimes I can see the confusion in his eyes. But when he smiles I can still see the life in his eyes. I don’t see an older man looking back at me with tired eyes. I see the Father I love, and I hope I can be as good a person as he is. I hope my Father is proud of the man I have become, as I am of the man that he has always been.
During my last visit, my Father’s physical therapist visited. He comes three times a week and they work on being able to stand up. It was maybe fifteen or twenty seconds each time, and despite the obvious pain my Father didn’t give up. Later, my Father commented that he would “keep on, keeping on.”
When I left to come home it was very late at night. I looked in on him, and saw him resting peacefully. I was about to go in and kiss him goodbye but I was afraid I would wake him up. So instead I gave my mother an extra kiss for him. I will call when I get home, because my mother asked me to. But, also so I can tell him again how much I love him.
As a Father I hope my kids are happy, and I hope they know how much I love them and how proud I am of them. They are two young, amazing people with their whole lives ahead of them. They can do anything they want, and I only want one thing for them. The same thing I have always wanted – for them to be happy. And when someone asked me about them recently I summed up who they are as ‘good people’. I love spending time with them, and maybe soon I will start telling them about my life growing up in small town America.
As they begin their adult lives, I want to tell them about the mistakes I have made. About the lessons I have learned. And if I do, I hope they will listen. But ultimately they have their own lessons to learn. And while I may be their Father, and as much as I want them to learn from my mistakes and experiences, I know they can’t. We are all our own selves, our own individuals.
Maybe that is the lesson my Father wanted me to learn all these years. That we are all individuals, and we all have our own lessons to learn. And no matter how much the lessons might hurt, or get us down, we have to “keep on, keeping on”. That we can’t ever give up on this life – its the only one we have. Because at the end of the day, we have a lot of blessings in our life. And I know that I don’t need a Father’s day to celebrate it, because I am blessed with a wonderful family and that makes every day a Father’s Day!
As Christmas has passed and I await the New Year I find myself reflecting on the past year. Like so many others we consider what went well, what didn’t, and what we want to “fix” for next year. I don’t know why people always think we have to fix things in our lives. I don’t consider my life broken. I look back at the year and instead think of ways to improve.
Sure there are the obvious choices of places to improve. The cliches that come with New Year Resolutions. Let’s be healthier, happier, more positive, and enjoy work more. Who couldn’t use a little healthy eating, or working out in their lives. Fortunately, I have a good support partner who is just as determined as me to improve. So, we will start off the year right by doing the right things – eating healthier and working out more. Skip meats, use the elliptical unit for something more than a conversation piece.
I’m pretty happy with my life, so don’t feel the need to “fix” it. But, there are always way to improve things. I’m generally a pretty positive person, always looking for ways to see the positive side. Unless I’m driving, then I am positive no one else on the road can drive but me. That leaves me with work. Some days it’s a job, not a career and I don’t really feel like going in. But it’s a good job and I take pride in my work – both in the outcome as well as the effort. I like to think that I am improving things and making it better and easier for the people I support, but I know there is always room for improvement.
If you are reading this, thank you. It’s been awhile since I posted to my blog and this is one of my resolutions. To do more of it – more writing in general, more positivity, and more blog writing. I’ve had an amazing year of travel, seeing and experiencing new things. And I look forward to the 2018 adventures that we will have. This isn’t just a new year, its a new opportunity to write a new chapter in our personal books.
I hope that as you look back on the past year you see the many good things and use those to carry you in to 2018. Enjoy this New Year in any way you can. And don’t forgo the list of resolutions. Let’s all stick with them. Together. I hope you have a good year full of joy, happiness, love, and success.
David E Gordon Author 