The Gift of Illusion

Chapter Fourteen





1





Isaac woke early with a throbbing headache. At first glance, the empty pot of coffee sitting on the bedside table was easy to blame. He had stayed up late, much later than he had wanted. The little black book was like a current that pushed him further and further away from reality with every page that passed, and even after he closed the book, as he laid in the silent darkness staring at the ceiling, the flood it brought continued to apply more and more pressure. The time of judgment drew near, no crafty amount of detective work could stop the inevitable, and the pain in his head was more than enough proof. No amount of pills would ease it.

Amy lay in bed thinking about the argument she’d had with her father the previous night; how he had curled up into a tight ball at just the mention of her mother’s death. He had hardly ever spoken of that night before and only when she had asked questions.

For many years, Amy felt as though something was missing in her life. In her early teens, she often blamed this emptiness on her mother. Why aren’t you here for me? It was an easy way to escape dealing with her problems. Many times, she would wake up in the middle of the night crying out for something that just wasn’t there. But last night, as her father opened up from his shell, she could feel the emptiness within him, and she no longer felt alone. She had shared his emptiness and now all the pain and tears made sense.

The guilt her father felt was no doubt unbearable, but how deep was the hole of emptiness and how long would it take for him to climb out? Even after the traumatic events of the other night, lying in bed reflecting on her life, Amy felt at peace with herself and with her mother. The feeling of emptiness was gone. Now she wished her father would find that peace as well. Everything happens for a reason and there doesn’t have to be someone to blame, however, often forgiveness can be easy to give others and difficult to give yourself.

Isaac scanned the refrigerator for any breakfast related food but only came up with one egg and a couple of dried out slices of bacon. He tossed the bacon out and removed the single egg from the foam carton, gently placing it on the kitchen counter so it wouldn’t roll off.

The egg didn’t look all that appetizing but with so little a selection, it was better than nothing. Maybe an egg and a few slices of toast could tide him over for a while, at least until Amy got up. Later, they could get groceries at the store just around the corner.

The egg was almost done frying before Isaac realized he would have to forget about the other half of the meal. A loaf of bread was just another item to add to the already lengthy grocery list compiling in his head. He removed the egg from the burner and turned the knob to off.

Amy entered the kitchen. “Did you feel bad for not letting me go to school today so you decided to cook me breakfast?”

Isaac shook his head and smiled. “Good luck getting breakfast, that right there is the last egg,” he said, pointing down at the stove. “And to answer your first question, no, I don’t feel bad.”

“I know, Dad,” said Amy. “I was just teasing you.”

Isaac flipped the egg from the pan to the plate. “Well, at least it’s good to see you’re not still mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“For snapping at you last night.”

“No, I wasn’t mad at you then and I’m not mad at you now. It’s just sometimes...I don't know."

“Sometimes I don’t give you enough space, right? I go out of my way to protect you.”

“I know you have your reasons.”

“No, you’re right. I am overprotective, and I do have my reasons. But that doesn’t make those reasons right.”

Even with sixteen years of experience, being a good father was still the toughest job.

“Why don’t we go out for breakfast? I’ll let you pay.”

Isaac smirked. “I bet you would.”

“Please,” Amy pleaded, grinning deviously up at her father. It was a look only a daughter could give and a father could not ignore. He had a sweet spot and she knew exactly where it was.

“Well,” said Isaac, turning to look down at the plate next to him on the counter. It was an easy decision to make; in fact, he had already made it, the thought of choking down a cold scrambled egg only made it easier. “Okay, get ready.”

“Sweet.”

Isaac pointed down at the plate of cold eggs. “You didn’t really think I was going to eat that, did you?” He snatched the plate from the counter and watched the eggs roll off into the trash.

Bye-bye.





2





Isaac had managed, with a little help from his daughter, to keep his mind off of the case and The Immortal for most of the morning. Breakfast was a good idea, it gave him a chance to relax and spend some quality time with Amy. Ever since her meeting with the deputy a few nights ago, he could sense that she needed it, and he needed it, too. A vacation still sounded nice, but for now it would have to wait. Amy had a junior year to finish, and Isaac still had a case to close, as best he could.

Nevertheless, afternoon came fast, and it seemed the harder Isaac tried to ignore the book, the more he wanted to pick it up. Finally, at a quarter past one, he gave in to the temptation and was again washed away by the current.





From The Immortal (pg. 76)





The twelve iron cells formed a U around the study, four per section. The steel locks on the doors were identical, so it would have only taken one person with a key to free all twelve prisoners. Unfortunately, Lucius was the only person, prior to his death, that knew of the chambers below the mansion. He had the only key.

It was possible, however, that Maria could have found out about her husband's secret underworld and kept her knowledge unknown to him, even though she was never allowed to be a witness to any of his shows. It was also equally possible that at some point Lucius could have pulled this knowledge from her, or simply seen it in her, making her unexplainable death much easier to explain. These are just theories though, as to this day Maria’s death still remains a mystery.

There were four oil lamps hung per hall, serving as the only light outside of the study. The study was believed to be a room Lucius specifically built to gain secret entrance into the cellar, and because of its unique position in the chamber, it allowed Lucius an easy view of any one of the prisoners at any given time.

The cells were made up of three walls, a set of iron bars, and a cement floor. There were no beds, sinks, toilets, or any other necessity of a modern prison. If a prisoner had to use the bathroom, they would have no choice but to use the floor, then have no choice later but to sleep on it. No doubt, the stench in the chamber could become sickening, and it’s unlikely that Lucius would clean up after the slaves. Lucius liked to keep his prisoners as weak as possible, which also meant very little food, anything to better further his studies.

It wouldn’t be hard to imagine that for the men and women who did time in the prison, death would come as an answered prayer, an escape from the hell they had become buried in. Of course, each of their deaths is what Lucius ultimately wanted too, but he wanted their death to be of his will. So, he watched each of them very carefully and made sure to give the gift just before God could step in his way. More often than not, Lucius was the perfect timekeeper, but every now and then God would reach down from above and manage to snatch one from the illusionist’s arms.

The large room in the center of the first floor, often referred to as the sanctuary, was where Lucius would give the gift to the prisoners when they were ready. The sanctuary was a large room, resembling many a church, with a ceiling that slanted upward from the large double doors at the entrance to the stage at the rear. There were many rows of seats, aligned much like pews, with a red-carpeted aisle running down the center. A couple of small steps at the foot of the first row marked the beginning of the stage. There were no doors at the left and right of the stage, only an entrance from the back shielded by a long red curtain. Lucius would always enter and leave the stage from the rear, and it was in this backstage area that he would secretly bring the prisoners up, chained together at their necks, only to drag their decaying bodies across the hardwood floor for the shows finale.

The finale was made up of one part torture, one part ritualistic burning. Many have suggested that Lucius would call upon volunteers from the audience to assist in torturing the prisoners, then immediately following the show, these willing participants would end up occupying the cell of one of the victims they’d helped torture. It could have been likely that the person you sat by one week could be the same person you punished the next—a cycle that saw no end.

If this is the case then it wouldn’t be hard to deny sympathy for any one of the prisoners, indeed, you reap what you sow. Yet, Lucius earned his fame off the blood of his followers. Many were so blinded by his words and so enthralled by his presence, they failed to see what was happening right in front of them. The thin gray bodies chained together on stage weren’t real, just like the many other unexplainable things they had witnessed throughout the show, to them these bodies were just another illusion.





3





By six o’clock, the sun had dipped down below the horizon. The sky wasn’t dark yet, no gloomy overcast hung above, but Isaac could feel it coming. The day was too quiet, especially considering the chaos of the week. The storm was on its way, slowly positioning itself for an attack, preparing to end the silence. Isaac knew this, he would have bet his life on it. He couldn’t explain how or why he knew, he just knew. The storm was in him—a part of him, and it would always be around with its eye peering down from above.

Always.

Isaac had sent Amy out for groceries a half an hour earlier. Together they had devised a list of food long enough to hopefully last them through the better part of the month. In many ways, he felt nervous sending her out alone.

It was her idea.

He paced the house wondering if she was all right, playing the part of the overprotective father perfectly. Why wasn’t she home yet? He wondered. What’s taking so long? Every time he heard a car go by outside, he would peer through the window hoping to see her Civic pulling into the driveway. He had called her cell, twice, but she didn't answer. Deep inside Isaac knew he was overreacting, but it was a feeling he could not control, or even begin to understand. The feeling came on its own and it would leave on its own, whether he approved or not.

Not long after Isaac built up the courage to pry himself from the window to the couch, the doorbell rang. He was pleasantly surprised by the person standing on the other side.

“Hey,” said Ms. Maples. “I thought I would stop by and see how you're holding up.”

“Okay.” said Isaac, raising his eyebrows. “Come on in.” He stepped out of the way and offered her entrance.

Virginia took a seat on the couch.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“What do you have?” She looked up at Isaac hovering over her like a two hundred pound puppy.

“Water, I think.”

Virginia smiled. “Bottled water?”

“Tap. Although I might be able to dig up some stale coffee.” Isaac sat down next to her on the couch. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We’ve been surviving on twigs for the last week. I’ve been so busy lately. I sent Amy out a while ago to get groceries.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s no problem.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I wasn’t even thirsty.” She glanced down at The Immortal sitting on the coffee table. “So, have you started reading the book?”

“Yeah, actually I’m almost done.”

“Really? What do you think?

“I must say it's very interesting,” said Isaac. “And disturbing. It looks like I have my hands full.”

“We have our hands full," Virginia corrected. "I’m willing to help you all the way."

"I appreciate that."

“Have you heard anything since last night?”

“No, not a word. It couldn’t have just stopped. I know it. Sadly, all we can do is wait."

“Waiting can be one of the hardest things to do.”

“Especially when you know exactly what you’re waiting for.”

Suddenly, Isaac felt the need to check the window again.

Virginia stood up. “What’s wrong?” He didn’t respond, or even move. “Isaac, is everything all right?”

After a moment, Isaac dropped the curtain and turned back around toward Virginia. “Yeah,” he said. “Everything is fine. Just wondering where Amy is, that’s all.” He headed into the kitchen.

Virginia followed behind him. “Was she supposed to be home by now?” She watched Isaac grab a glass from the top cupboard and fill it with water from the sink.

“No, not really.”

Virginia sat down at the kitchen table. “You’re just worried, huh?”

Isaac sat down across from Virginia at the table. He took a small sip from the glass then smiled and held it out in front of him. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“Yeah,” Virginia chuckled. “I’m sure.”

“Okay. Your loss.”

“You know it’s okay to be worried.”

“Is that right?”

“It just means that you’re a good father. There isn’t many left in the world today.”

“I guess we’re an endangered species.”

“You could say that. I wish I had a father like you growing up. I wish my father worried about me for once.”

“When did I say I was worried?”

“You didn’t have to,” said Virginia. “I can tell.”

Isaac sighed. “It’s that clear, huh?” He quickly finished off the glass of water. “Well, I guess I can’t hide anything from you.”

Less than five minutes later the front door swung open.

Isaac and Virginia both looked over as Amy sauntered into the house carrying a few plastic bags in each hand. She dropped them on the tile floor next to the door and peered into the kitchen at her father. Then she noticed the woman sitting at the other side of the table. “I’m home.”

Isaac and Virginia both got up from the table and walked into the living room.

“Hi,” Amy said to her father’s mysterious lady friend.

“We haven’t met. Amy, right? My names Virginia.”

“Nice to meet you,” Amy said, still stunned to have come home and found her father with a female visitor. All her life she had never seen him alone with anyone of the opposite sex that wasn’t either an officer or a relative. He had never even gone out on a date. “There’s more in the car.”

“I’ll get them,” said Isaac.

Virginia rushed out the door. “Let me help you.”

Amy brought the bags into the kitchen and began putting the groceries away. Isaac and Virginia came back in a minute later with the rest of the bags. After, Virginia headed into the living room while Isaac and his daughter put away the remainder of the food.

“What’s the deal, Dad?” Amy whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on. I’m not stupid. Who’s the woman?”

“She’s a friend.”

“When did you meet her?”

“I met her yesterday,” he said. “Remember, I told you I was going to be having a visitor? Well, she was the visitor.”

“So what is she doing here now?”

"She's helping with the case."

Amy laughed, balled up the empty plastic bags, and threw them on to the pantry floor.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me.”

Amy walked over and looked up at her father. She added a curious look in her eyes to go with the smile on her face. “You like her,” she whispered. “Don’t you?”

Isaac squinted his eyes down in disgust. “What?”

“It’s okay, Dad,” said Amy. “She’s really pretty. You’ve got my permission.”

“I’ve got your permission. Permission to do what?”

“Really, I’m happy for you.”

“Would you please fill me in on what the hell you are talking about,” Isaac said, in a low, angry tone.

Amy put her hand up on her father's shoulder. “The woman sitting in the living room. Your so called visitor from last night. You like her.”

“What gives you that idea?”

“I don’t know,” Amy said. “Just a hunch. Why don’t you take her out for dinner? I can fend for myself here. We have food now.”

“I’m not taking anyone out on a date,” Isaac said. The idea of a date sounded childish to him. He was too old for dating; those years had passed long ago. “Do you understand?”

“Why not?” Amy asked. “I think it would be good for you.”

“I don’t care,” Isaac groaned. Why did he ever ask why she was laughing? “Have you forgotten about your mother?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten about mom,” Amy said. “But she has nothing to do with this. It's not like I’m looking for a mom. I just think one harmless date would be good for you. I’m tired of you moping around the house.”

“What are you talking about? You’re the one always moping around the house.”

“Yeah, but you won’t let me date,” said Amy. “If you did then I wouldn’t mope around the house as much.”

Isaac wiped away the sweat from his forehead. “This is ridiculous.”

“Just take her out for dinner,” Amy pleaded. “If you’re not going to do it for yourself then do it for me.”

“Do it for you?”

“Do it because I want you to.”

Isaac stood still for a moment and gazed across the kitchen at his daughter. Her passion was admirable. Her mother had that kind of unrelenting passion. The whole idea of a date, even a dinner date, sounded beyond silly to him, however, Amy was right about one thing, Ms. Maples was very attractive.

“How do you know she would even want to go out to dinner with me?”

“Well, you’re just going to have to ask her. Don’t be shy.”

“No, not happening,” said Isaac. “This is all a bad idea.”

“Okay, it was just a thought.”

Isaac bowed his head for a second then: “Fine, I’ll ask her.” A big smile lit up his daughters face. Isaac took a deep breath and walked out of the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Virginia asked.

Isaac strolled into the living room. “This may sound funny,” he said. “But would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” He looked back at Amy still smiling at him from the kitchen. “Just the two of us.”

“A date?”

He could hear Amy trying not to laugh in the kitchen. “No, not a date. Definitely not a date.”

Virginia sat up and leaned closer. “Am I paying for myself then?”

“If you want,” Isaac said. “But not a date.”

“Okay.” Virginia laughed. “Not a date. And I would love to.”

“Okay, great. But there is just one more thing.” He hurried back into the kitchen and stood before his daughter. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me so easy.”

“What do you mean?” Amy asked.

Isaac grabbed the empty glass from the table and placed it into the sink. “I’m going to ask Randy if he could keep you company while I’m gone,” he said. Virginia slowly stepped into the kitchen. “If he says okay, then we’ll go.”

“Randy? What did I do to deserve this?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Randy. But I’m not leaving you here alone. I shouldn’t have even let you go to the store by yourself.”

“Why?”

Isaac could tell that Virginia was uncomfortable standing in the corner watching them bicker, he felt more uncomfortable being a part of it. “Listen. There is a lot to explain honey. I promise I will make it up to you. After the other night, I'm not taking any chances."

“I don’t understand.”

Isaac put his arm around his daughter and lightly kissed the top of her forehead. “I know you don’t. I don’t expect you to,” he said. “But you have to trust me, sweetheart.”

“Okay, fine,” said Amy. “I guess I can deal with Randy for a little while.”

Isaac smiled. “Good.”

Randy and Lizzy must have both had the day off, Isaac thought, skipping across the yard. He had noticed earlier that neither of their cars had moved an inch all day. Randy had never called him back from the message he left the other night either. Not that it was important. The beautiful woman back in the house had just about answered every question, but Isaac was glad to have a friend like Randy in times like these.

It only took two knocks at the door for Randy to answer. Isaac could hear his friend fumbling with the chain lock from inside, and then the door creaked open.

“Hey, Randy,” said Isaac. “How’s it going?”

“Better now.”

“Listen, are you busy?” Isaac asked. “I was wondering if you could come over and watch Amy while I go out to dinner. It would only be for maybe an hour.”

“You’re leaving and you want me to watch your daughter?”

Isn’t that what I just asked? Isaac thought. “Yeah, if that’s cool with you.”

Randy looked to be fashioning an answer in his head.

In one way, Isaac wanted Randy to say no, that perhaps he was busy, so Isaac could stay home where he could keep his mind at ease. In another way, however, he prayed that Randy would say yes. He longed for the chance to sit across from Ms. Maples and gaze into her eyes while they enjoyed a nice dinner. It had been a very long time since he had experienced anything even remotely similar to a date, and for some reason, tonight, he realized how much he wanted it.

“Well,” said Isaac. “Can you?”

"No problem."

“Thanks.” Isaac hurried away. “I’ll make it up to you. We’ll be leaving in a bit.”

“Don’t worry,” Randy whispered, as he watched the stiff detective jog across the yard like a tired old dog. “I’ll take real good care of her.”

There was no better feeling than being asked to do something you love. He had given the detective every opportunity to let him be, but the old dog was too stubborn to bury the bone. Sometimes people have to learn the hard way. Sometimes it can be much easier to punish someone than to reason with them. This stubborn soul would realize his faults, he would learn his lesson, and in the end, there would be no excuses, no one but himself to point the finger at. He dug the hole, and now if he wishes to be buried in it, so be it!