When shit happens you tend to think about what went down leading up to it and you wonder what you could have done to prevent that. Well, I do anyway. When really big shit happens, like your wife leaves you, you review your entire life.
When Michael's wife disappeared, he did just that. The event was so sudden and unexpected that Michael tried to think of clues that might lead to some explanation.
First, was an otherwise totally innocuous conversation he had with her a couple of weeks before hand. Out of the blue she started a conversation about the Himba tribe of Namibia. This was a totally random topic but apparently, she had just been reading about them. "The Himba women," she said, "generally have more than one husband in their lives and often concurrently. "But" she said, "their husbands can loan them out. Like, husband has a visitor and offers her to sleep with the visitor for the night. The husband goes and sleeps somewhere else. That's amazing, isn't it?"
Michael, rather puzzled by this comment coming out of the blue replied, "You sound enthusiastic about the idea. Are you suddenly into polygamy or have you decided to become anti-Feminist?"
"Oh no nothing like that, women still have control. Himba women have a choice in having sex with the visitor, they can just spend the night. Anyway, a huge proportion of children born are not the husbands, but they are totally OK with that. What do you think about having a marriage like that?"
"Oh yeah, great, that has a lot of possibilities. So, while you are working you could seal the deal with a client in our bed while I slept on the couch."
It was Dorothea's reaction to this that puzzled him, he had meant it as an amusing remark, she took it differently. She gasped, burst into tears, got up and hastily retired to the bedroom slamming the door. She never told him why. Michael just put it down to the mysteries of women. Something that he, a mere male could never hope to understand.
The other event was when he was seeing her off on a business trip. She was flying to New Zealand, and he was seeing her off at the airport having driven her there. He also was flying out to Tasmania for a photo shoot the following day. She would get back before him and the plan was that she would pick him up when he returned.
As they were milling around on the concourse Michael notice two men standing nearby. One of them was staring intently at them both. Michael would not normally have made anything of it, but it was his wife's reaction which interested him. She was clearly uncomfortable. She turned red and had her head down. "Do you know that guy over there?"
"No of course not," his wife replied a little too quickly.
"Well, I think he knows you by the way he is looking."
"Don't be ridiculous." She began to get angry.
"What is he to you, because both of you are reacting strangely?"
The man in question could see they were discussing him and turned to his companion. Meanwhile Michael's wife strode off toward the check-in kiosk. Michael followed which took him close to the two men. As he passed neither looked back at him but continued talking. It sounded to Michael that they were either Canadian or American. Catching her, she refused to talk about it further and Michael let it lie.
As she was about to leave, his wife gave him a hug. She clutched him closely with a passion that Michael had never noticed before. Michael looked into her blue grey eyes and there seemed to him a sadness in the smile. This was something he fancied he often saw, this sorrow in her eyes. Despite her vivaciousness and her apparent joie de vivre he often detected a certain seriousness however considering what little he knew of her past there was more than enough to haunt her.
As Dorothea was leaving to go into the departure lounge the two men in question fell right in behind her. This alarmed Michael and he experienced a pang of irrational jealousy as after all those men did seem to have some relationship with her. She had never been secretive before. It was his very first feeling of jealousy in his marriage, but it quickly passed. For today the memory of it became irrelevant, that is until his wife disappeared.
In moving on with the story I should perhaps tell you something about Michael's wife.
Her name was Dorothea.
Dorothea Alexandrina De Crespeny to be precise.
An unusual name for a kiwi girl but then there was nothing usual about Dorothea.
For a start, Dorothea (Never call her Dot) was a full card-carrying Albino and one of twins. The other, Estelle had died tragically a few years earlier. She was stunningly beautiful in that unusual way that albinos can be. She was slim and tall and long limbed. She and her sister grew up with ballet. Although a little tall to continue, it gave Dorothea a certain grace and elegance in her movements. She kept her skin flawless from top to toe, not even succumbing to tattoos like so many girls of her generation. When she was in her teens, she and her sister were highly sought-after models and could have made it on the world stage. They must have been quite a sensation in their day when both were in tandem on the catwalk. Michael understood that the loss of her sister would have been devastating on so many levels.
Modelling, however, was not Dorothea. She was highly intelligent and not to be underestimated. She had her own aspirations and had become, with degrees in law and accountancy, a forensic accountant. All that remained from her modelling days were her looks, her hair, and her dress sense which was always immaculate. To those who did not know her these attributes seemed at odds with their perception of what a forensic accountant might be. Woe to someone who mistook her for the receptionist.
Another very unusual Dorothea factor was she was a living paradox in many ways. On one hand she was bright bubbly and charming. She could potentially charm the pants off a Hannibal Lecter and twist him around her fingers. In romantic love she gave her all, she could be affectionate and appealing. Her looks and grace often caused people to remark that she was an angel. This she hated and often replied that she is no way an angel. She would say Estelle was the angel of the family. Indeed, there was a darkness within her those others did not see.
Like all of us we think we know our friends and partners, but do we really? In Michael's mind Dorothea was a delicate flower and everything he thought about her he interpreted to her all-pervading innocence. What he did not know was that Dorothea's outside persona was one she carefully constructed. She understood other people very well and to that extent was empathic but what she could not feel was others' emotions. In that way she was a dark empath. She could understand your pain, not feel your pain.
The shadows that Michael saw in their relationship, Michael interpreted as mild depression. The way she could snap out of the darkness, seemingly at will, led Michael to think at one time that she was mildly bipolar. But in the end, it seemed just part of her personality.
When she was in love with you, she expected your total devotion in return, but she did not feel she had the remotest responsibility for your own feelings. In her mind she did not need to be truthful or faithful and to her sex had nothing whatsoever to do with romantic love. Her empathic side did understand that all this was expected in a successful relationship, and she did aspire to it, promising herself she would become the perfect mother and wife, she resolved that this will eventually be her greatest mission in her life. In reality what Michael experienced in his relationship with Dorothea was a construction, a contrived loving relationship. Meanwhile....
Michael was aware of none of this. Her skill in deception had led him to believe he was having a normal life and they were both soon to start a family.
Although both Kiwis they lived in Brunswick, a suburb of Melbourne, Australia. They shared a small recently renovated period Victorian house on a quiet street. The front still retained its old style with a veranda fringed in cast iron lacework. Michael was a photographer who cooperatively shared a studio with a woman photographer in an old-converted joinery in a laneway a couple of streets away.
Dorothea and Michael met in Melbourne rekindling an earlier brief affair. After six months, Michael felt he was in love with that special one. Dorothea reciprocated. For the first time in her life, she felt she was with an equal and most importantly for the first time in her life she found a man she could depend on and made her feel safe. Marriage was a no brainer. They had a small white wedding. Dorothea's Mother flew in from New Zealand. She had suffered the first of her strokes and was walking with a cane. She immediately liked Michael and was overjoyed that Dorothea had found someone like him. Dorothea's parents had split. Her father lived in Brisbane and for reasons unknown to Michael did not come to the wedding.
In Michael's mind their marriage was bliss. They went through all those little milestones newlyweds do. Getting the house and rationalizing their lives. The biggest change for Michael was the need to adjust his career. He was in love, saw a rosy future with family and was more than happy to end a single man's aspirations for new a new family orientated career.
The only tension was that he had aspired to be a wildlife photographer which took him away a great deal. It was something Dorothea could not share. Being albino, sun was not her friend let alone all those bity stinging things that existed in the Australian bush. Dorothea was an inside person and came into her own when the sun was down. As a result, Michael's sacrifice to their relationship was in transition, shifting his business back to commercial photography where he began.
Michael did not mind too much; he was focused on their future together. After two and a half years he was still hopelessly in love, trapped in Dorothea's blue grey eyes, made more appealing when she wore her kooky glasses, their lenses magnifying her eyes to cartoon proportions like some Disney loveable pet.
Although he was aware of her in her earlier modelling days they did not actually meet until a photographic conference in Queenstown, New Zealand. At that time Michael had already moved to Melbourne and his business firmly established.
Dorothea had yet to move to Australia. She was still a student and would not normally attend such a conference but her looks made her in demand in photography circles and occasionally she accepted lucrative commissions. In addition, a location in a resort town like Queenstown during the ski season was added bait. However little skiing was done outside her duties for which she was commissioned. All her spare time was spent in bed, dancing, drinking and eating with Michael. They hit it off immediately, but both understood this was simply a 'ships in the night' type deal. At the end of the conference, they parted never expecting to cross paths again.
But they did.
By chance she was enlisted as part of a fantasy photoshoot in Melbourne. This did require an outdoor shoot, but it was done at night in a large expansive garden. Dorothea fancied being a medieval princess and that was the sole reason she accepted.
She had just recently moved from Sydney where she had escaped a failed marriage in New Zealand. However, this did not stop her being a little apprehensive about the shoot. She worried about snakes and large spiders, but guess who her knight in shining armor was, no lesser man, but the photographer, who was of course, Michael. To cut a long story short they were married nine months later.
Which brings us up to an event that would have a profound effect on their lives, some two and a half years into married life.
Michael arrived back from Tasmania, but Dorothea was not at the airport. He had rung before departing on the flight, but the call had gone to voicemail. They hated being apart, suffering the anxiety of separation that newlyweds do. Meeting after a trip there was normally a passionate greeting and night to match.
As well as his frustration he was doubly annoyed at her non-appearance as he had quite a lot of gear. He rang her again and still no luck. Still, he decided not to be overly perturbed as he was sure that there was a good explanation. Dorothea always seemed to look forward to his return and was normally very reliable.
The taxi dropped him off at their house. After manhandling the gear inside it was clear to Michael that Dorothea was not there as well. She should have been back from her assignment three days previously. Her carry on and some of her personal effects she would be travelling with were not there. The last time he had spoken to her was just as she was leaving New Zealand to return but it appeared she had travelled somewhere else. She often travelled to Sydney so that was a probability.
