Mind Made up Part 16

Day 16. Wednesday. Castillo.

Shimmers of sunlight streak through my window sill and tickle my nose -- I wake up gently. At first, I am lost. Then I remember coming into the home around eleven. The house was quiet. I took my things out of the car and made my way to my room to avoid disturbing its residents. I stripped, checked my messages (answered a few of them) and then proceeded straight into bed.

Now, as I wake, there's an emptiness around me. I linger in bed, wondering if someone is going to join me, but no one comes in. I rise gently, forgetting to dress myself again, and wander into the hall. All is quiet.

I shuffle to my sisters' room. The door is closed. I listen in. No sounds. Curious, I open the door to find the room empty. Now I'm confused. Where would Heather be at this time in the morning? We chatted on text a bit during the afternoon yesterday, but no news since then.

I close the door and wander to my mother's bedroom. Again, all quiet, but the door is slightly ajar. She's not in, but since her window is open, a voice reaches me from outside. I walk to the window and look out into the backyard.

There's Jane, gently tending to her garden, still wearing a nightgown. I look at her for a moment, then wander back to my room.

I guess I'll take a shower.

As I am standing inside under the water, I hear the door to the bathroom open. At first, I suspect it's Heather, but Jane's voice calls to me.

- Grant? Can I come in?

- Sure.

She does; I turn off the water since I was already practically clean. Since we've seen each other naked more than once, I have no qualms in pulling the curtain open and reaching for a towel, exposing myself to her. She is herself wrapped in a towel, apparently waiting her turn to get into the shower. We glance at each other as I start drying myself.

- Good morning. You came in late. I never heard you.

- I didn't want to wake you. Where's Heather?

Jane looks to her left, as if outside, and explains.

- She decided that she would travel to spend time with your sister while you were away.

- Oh. I see.

- She'll be back with Stacey on Thursday evening.

- Good then. It's nice that they spend time together. Though doesn't Stacey have to work?

I finish drying myself enough to step out of the shower.

- Apparently, Heather's gonna help Stacey with some odd jobs.

- Well, I guess they planned it.

I'm a little upset that they didn't tell me about it -- though in hindsight, I think it's a good thing for them to do things without me. I don't want them to become dependent.

It also leaves me alone with Jane for two days.

My mother removes her towel; I can't help but look. She seems to appreciate, pausing for a moment as she steps into the tub.

- Your mother's still got it? She asks.

- You do. You're gorgeous.

- Thank you, son.

She starts testing the waters, leaving the curtain open for the moment. I sit where she was a moment ago, still not bothering to cover myself.

- And how are you?

- I'm great. Spent yesterday at work. But I'm taking tomorrow and Friday off. I work today though.

I sit quietly, washing her run the water off her body. Again, she seems to enjoy my presence so I linger.

- Tomorrow, she says, Pauline and myself are going to the beach. We'd like you to come.

- Kids are still at camp?

- Yeah. And even if they weren't, Jeff's on kids' duty.

Is that how she's making him pay? It's not a bad consequence. Despite his failings, I never thought of Jeff was a bad father, and neither did Pauline.

- I'd love to come, I tell her.

- Great. It's a date. In the afternoon though. Do what you want with your morning.

- I will.

As I make no moves to leave, Jane turns to face me.

- Do you want to wash my back?

- If you want me to.

- Sure.

I get up, again unbothered by my nudity. She lathers a washcloth with soap and hands it to me. I press it against her back and rub the soap in.

- Mmm.... Strong hands.

- You like it?

- Get right in there, she tells me.

So I do just that -- I rub the washcloth across her whole back, to the top of her buttocks, down her sides. Even as I don't make it sexual, trying to keep a calm stance, I end up getting some unplanned reaction between my legs. And I may not be the only one -- Jane mumbles and moans gently, especially when the washcloth ends up rubbing the sides of her breasts.

- This feels really nice, Grant.

- It does.

- Thank you.

She turns around, interrupting my motion -- but I'm almost up in her face because I leaned into her to scrub correctly. We lock eyes.

- Such a handsome man, she tells me.

- Thank you. God, you're beautiful.

She looks down and smiles.

- You should probably go take care of that downstairs. Or get someone to take care of it for you.

Even as she says it, she blushes. I hand her back the washcloth.

- Probably not a bad idea, I tell her.

I'm tempted to grab her but I resist the urge; just like she seems tempted to do something. But nothing more happens. Except.

- I love you, Grant.

- I love you, Jane.

She pulls up to my lips and plants a kiss there. I allow myself to enjoy the moment. She then pulls away, back into the shower. I step back. She pulls the curtain closed. I pick up the towel and throw it in the hamper, then return to my room, leaving the door open. I retrieve my phone, snap a picture of my erection, and send it to my sister Heather, with a caption: "This could have been yours this morning."

As much as I want to masturbate, I choose not to. Chances are I'll have my fill of sexual encounters later in the day, though I quickly realize that I have no real plans. But I do have work to do.

I'm dressed and ready to do some graphic design when my phone rings. It's Heather. I answer.

- Hello sis.

- Grant. Lovely dick, as always.

- And you're not here to enjoy it. Shame.

She giggles on the other end of the line.

- You're not mad? She asks.

- Of course not. I'm glad you're with Stacey. How is she?

- Busy. But we had a good last night, so that was fun.

She doesn't go into detail and I don't ask.

- What's this call about? I ask her.

- It's about mom.

- Sure.

- How is she?

- Rather good, I reply. Talked to her in the shower. She's planning stuff, getting work done.

- That's great to hear.

I get nervous suddenly.

- Did you and her have a chat yesterday?

- We did. But nothing compromising, don't worry. We talked a lot about her young life, how wild she was, even before dad. She told me how she threw all of that away when she got married -- when she got us.

- A shame.

- Yeah. Anyway, we talked about sex a lot too. I showed her my collection of toys, so she showed me hers!

I'm all smiles again.

- It was really interesting, she continues. Anyway, my point is that I found her to be open-minded about everything. Like, I did ask her how she felt about us kissing you. And she said she kisses you the same.

- She does. She did, I confirm. Well, maybe not exactly the same, but I feel the love.

- So I think it's going good. Which is also why I left, Heather concludes.

I nod as I speak.

- You wanted me to spend some time alone with her too.

- Yeah. Tomorrow, at the beach? She talked of her plans with me.

- Pauline's gonna be there too.

- I think you can manage around that.

I probably can, I tell myself.

- Anyway, wanted to let you know about all these things -- we miss you and we love you. And we can't wait to until Thursday to get our hands on you again!

- I'll keep that spot empty for you two. And love you both.

We part ways, hanging up. I get an image back; a picture of her exposed breasts, her shirt pulled down. I save it with the rest.

It's the middle of the morning when I get a new text. It's from Mary. She's sent me a link to a file; I transfer it to the laptop and open it. The accompanying text says: "You may want to look into this." The file contains two items: the first one is a picture of a fountain with a sculpture in the middle -- two characters, a topless mermaid being wrangled by an equally topless male character (maybe a sailor of some kind). Mary has emphasized something on the male character's finger -- a ring. It's not green or anything but it features prominently. The rest is a text that explains the item.

This fountain was erected in 1873, upon request by then mayor Pullington of Castillo. It is meant to represent the legendary tale of the city's founder, the pirate Hammond who ventured into the wild seas to capture all sorts of mystical creatures, including the elusive siren which he tamed, and whom he turned into his wife.

I immediately call Mary. She answers.

- Well? She starts.

- Where is this fountain?

- It's right here in town. But in storage. It was vandalized about thirty years ago. They removed it from the Beach Park and never returned it. Was supposed to be under repair.

- Mary, you're amazing.

- Have I earned a reward?

I laugh out loud in the phone.

- Absolutely. Tonight, you and me, whatever you want to do.

- I'll think about it.

- Just let me know a bit in advance if I need to plan anything. Can you send me the address for the storage place?

- On its way.

We say goodbye; I receive the address. This, I want to investigate right now. The rest of my work can wait.

IT TAKES ME THIRTY MINUTES to get to my destination. There's a city storage space right next to the beach. I make my way to the door and ring -- a minute later, a caretaker opens up, a man in his fifties.

- Yep?

- Hi. I need to get inside.

- Of course.

And he lets me in, unbothered by my request or lack of introduction. I correct myself once I'm inside.

- My name's Grant.

- Phil. What do you need?

- You have a statue in storage. A fountain, mermaid?

- Yeah. Back there.

- I need to see it.

He shrugs and leads me into the building, past crates and other stuff from the city's belongings, into a side room where the item lies, hidden under a tarp.

- Can you remove the tarp?

- I'm not supposed to, but sure.

As I watch him carry out the order, I remind myself of the power of my words. My excitement got me to be quite direct with him. I have to be mindful of that, even in this context.

- Thank you. I'm sorry for the trouble, I ask.

- Don't be. My job's pretty boring.

He exposes the item in question, and I understand why it was removed. Those who vandalized it carved penises on the mermaid's face and breasts. Tasteless and senseless. If it had been paint, it would have been a wash. But carving it is mean -- defacing the fountain itself. I'm guessing the city decided the repairs weren't worth the cost.

Maybe I can buy it from them and fix it.

The statue itself looks nice beyond its damage. I stare at the main character, supposedly Hammond. It doesn't match any of the other drawings that I've seen of him through my research. But I notice the protruding hand, the nice visible ring piece; from this hand, he holds a net in which the mermaid is trapped.

This is a lot less romantic than the story I read yesterday.

- You ok?

- Oh. Yes. Sorry.

I must have seemed sad.

- Shame about the vandalism, he tells me.

- Yeah. Did they ever catch those who did it?

- I don't know. Been a while.

I walk around it, trying to spot details that might give me an insight into the fountain. I read the plaque with the dedication and the name of the artist -- long dead.

- What's your interest? He asks me.

- Well, I'm told that my ancestor is the city's founder.

- No kidding? Hammond?

- Yeah.

I'm not sure what my interlocutor makes of this, not that it matters. There are no remarkable elements to the statue that speak to my gift or anything useful in the moment. Still, I keep looking.

- Popular thing, this thing, Phil mentions.

- How so?

- Well, you're the second person to be interested in it recently.

I nod accordingly.

- My girlfriend, Mary. She's the one that found it.

- Nope. Not her.

- Not Mary?

- Nope. But a girl. Jessie.

I freeze in my tracks.

- Jessie Landers?

- Dunno. Pretty, brown hair, with a red streak on top.

She was here.

- When was that? I ask excitedly.

- Monday, last week.

While I was out-of-town, visiting her mother.

- She's... I'm trying to find her. Did she leave a card? A number?

- Nope. Sorry.

His voice is apologetic but it doesn't help. Why would Jessie be looking for the statue? Why would she be investigating Hammond? My mind races at putting the pieces together.

- Did she tell you what she wanted?

- No more than you. Wait. She did say that it was about her inheritance. Or something like that.

Did my father leave her one as well? Something that was done separately, out of his executor's hands? It is entirely possible. If my father knew he was dying, or even if he didn't, he may have planned for Jessie to be contacted at his death.

The timing is off, because he only died three weeks ago, and she left home last January, but there has to be a connection somehow. Irina did say she vanished after starting to look into her father.

A thought stretches into my mind that might explain why she's being so hard to track. What if she has the gift? It would allow her to tell people not to speak about her. And if that is the case, this caretaker might know more than he can tell me.

- Phil.

- Yep?

- Tell me if Jessie told you not to speak of herself or her intentions to you.

There's literally no hesitation in his voice as he replies.

- She did no such thing. Like I said, she wanted to see it so I showed it to her.

So maybe she doesn't have the power -- or she didn't use it on him because she didn't feel it necessary.

- Thank you. Sorry.

- No worries.

I stay a few more minutes but find nothing more, so I exit the building, leaving the caretaker to his work. I walk several meters towards the beach.

- Fuck.

She was here. She also had that room in town which I found last Friday with my police officer friends (where we also had sex!) But Jessie's a ghost. No current address, no registered car. I might as well just walk around and ask if people have seen her. There's no clear path to finding her.

Knowing that she's also inherited in Hammond and his legacy in Castillo is concerning. What does she know? Could she have found out something? Did she actually meet my father? Maybe that's what triggered everything. His cause of death was heart failure -- coroner deemed it normal despite his age. Enlarged heart and terrible blood pressure. Two conditions which, thankfully, I have not inherited -- but I am also younger than he was. He also wasn't the picture of health, from what I have gathered. So I'm not thinking she had a hand in his death, but maybe the emotions of finally meeting his daughter were too much. Irina did say he chose to stay out of her life. She may have confronted him. He may have suffered the heart failure there -- with her.

I can only imagine how she must feel, if that is what happened, and why she would want to hide.

But that doesn't explain her interest in Hammond and this fountain -- or where she learned it from.

I contact Mary to look into that.

- Hi. I'm just of the storage facility, I tell her.

- And?

- Well, the fountain is there but it's not useful for my research.

- Shame.

I cut to the chase.

- How did you find this, by the way?

- News archives. The vandalism was public so there was an article. But I needed to look at the picture to associate it with the ring.

Because I have been asking her to find information on the ring -- not on Hammond. That's what I asked the genealogist, who hasn't yet gotten back to me. Maybe there's not much to find out there.

- Can you know if anyone else accessed the archive? I ask Mary.

- Can't tell. It's public access.

- Ok. Thanks anyway.

There's a slight pause, like I almost hear concern in the silence.

- Don't worry, Mary. We're still on for tonight.

- Good. Let me know if I can be of further assistance.

- I will.

Electronic kisses are sent, then I head out. Time to talk to the genealogist again. There maybe no updates but I'm suspecting that his path might have crossed Jessie's too, especially if she's showing interest in Hammond-related inquiries.

I knock and enter his office as I get there. He looks up from his research desk.

- Hello? Ah! Grant, is it?

- Yes.

I don't remember his name but garnered it at the door.

- Mr. Haynes.

He rises to greet me; we shake hands.

- I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd check in.

- Of course. I have started a compilation of facts but am nowhere near done.

- That's all right.

He reaches for his desk, pulling out a folder containing a few items, but he doesn't do anything with them.

- Were you here for something specific? He asks.

I suppose I can be direct.

- Did a young woman, brown hair, red streak in it, come by and ask questions?

- Come to think of it, yes.

Bingo!

- What was her name?

- Jessie Hammond. Oh! Like you.

- My half-sister, I explain.

Except that Jessie always went by her mother's last name -- Landers. For her to use the name Hammond holds multiple implications, all of which require her to have an awareness of her father's details -- some of them anyways.

- Did she leave a number?

- No, she did not. When I asked, she said she was between places and would return.

I need to know more, but I hate to pry into the situation. I decide knowledge is worth the discomfort.

- Please tell me what she wanted to know?

- Oh. About the same as you. But more precisely, about the many wives of Hammond.

- The many wives?

- Yes. Well, you know Hammond was an infamous polygamist?

I want to tell him that I'm not sure about the 'infamous' part but I choose to keep silent on that point.

- She was curious about who were his wives. The official one, and the others he kept in secret.

- And were you able to give her that information?

- Some of it. But I told her I'd look for more.

- And she said she would return?

- She did.

This is my best -- no, my only lead to finding her.

- Mr. Haynes, I need you to do something for me.

- Of course. Anything.

- The next time she comes in, you call me. Anytime. You just ring my number -- you don't need to speak. And then, you keep her busy here until I arrive.

- Keep her busy. Alright.

I'm tempted to go overboard.

- Not against her will, of course. But you insist she stays. And if she eventually figures out -- asks why -- you tell her it's about her mother. That her mother is worried about her and that she just wants to know she's fine.

I'm good with this because it's the truth. I hate lies and if I'm going to encounter my half-sister, I need to meet her on the fairest and most honest terms.

- Alright, I'll do that.

- Thank you.

Relief in my heart -- finally. This should work -- unless Jessie has the same power as me, but that's just speculation. I can't work under that assumption.

- Could you give me a copy of what you gave her?

- Of course.

Going in his backstore, the genealogist retrieves a pile of loose paper, which he hands me.

- This is everything we have on Hammond's wives that's well-documented. I'm still sorting through materials. This is quite exciting.

- Please don't tell anyone else about all of this.

- Of course. Secrecy, and all that.

I thank him profusely -- I'm almost tempted to kiss him from the sheer emotion of the moment, but I refrain, sensing that he wouldn't be open to it.

For the first time since I have started looking for Jessie, I have a hope of finding her. I'm ecstatic with potential success. I want to celebrate!

But as I pick up my phone to call someone, I am immediately stumped. I see my contact list and my mind somewhat goes blank. I check each name and my mind wanders to a reflection of her.