The Last Christmas On Earth
By Andrea Lepri
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About this ebook
Humanity is in danger due to the increased activity of the Sun. Some scientists, flanked by Abel Parker, wake up the Gray, the last surviving alien who fell in Roswell. He is hibernated in a laboratory of Area 51, where Margareth Turner will ask him to help her decipher some disturbing mysteries.
Harry, son of Deputy Sheriff James Robinson, disappears for thirty hours and when he returns home he remembers nothing. His bike shines with mysterious bluish dust, the same one that covers two corpses found the next morning in the same area. In the following days, other mysterious events occur, Harry acquires paranormal abilities, James believes that someone is watching them aiming to kidnap his son again, but he doesn't know that someone very close to him is plotting in the shadows. The corpses begin to mummify, but, before the Coroner can perform a second autopsy, the bodies disappear and with them every proof of their existence. When everything seems to be back to normal, the long-awaited Lobster’s Festival begins, but a powerful virus hits the county and the much sought-after answers come to the surface one by one.
The Earth enters an apocalyptic phase, the first catastrophes send the entire Humanity into a panic.
The Grey explains to Margareth that an alien race ”the Pleiadians” wants to take over the planet, while Abel Parker claims that the Grey wants to conquer the Earth. The President of the United States gives an ultimatum for the Grey to cooperate, he is the only one able to open the Heavenly Door and save everyone with the Vimanas, the ancient alien spaceships hidden in Tibet. A lightning storm sends the systems of Area 51 into a tailspin, Margareth and the Grey take advantage of it to escape and head to Egypt.
A futuristic submarine descends into the Bermuda Triangle to reveal its mysteries. Neil Patterson, adventurer Bryan West, Aztec High Priest Pedro Ayala, and Cain Parker are part of the crew. The latter is in search of the Key that opens the Stargate, a heavenly portal that allows you to travel through time and space and that is hidden in El Giza. In the abysses, Atlantis is perfectly preserved, protected by a dome of energy.
The calamities increase, some alien flying disks, allies of the Grey, try to save the people gathered in mass but are repulsed by the terrestrial air forces.
Harry the child prodigy, the Grey and the Pleiadians are all in Egypt, fighting for the possession of the Stargate, while the planet and its inhabitants are dying. Who is gonna win? What's going to happen? What will be of humankind?
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The Last Christmas On Earth - Andrea Lepri
Andrea Lepri
The last Christmas on Earth
Translated by
Mickey Perkins
Original Title
L'ultimo Natale sulla terra
First Edition
0111 edizioni -- www.0111edizioni.it
English Edition october 2019
Publisher: Tektime -- www.traduzionelibri.it
This novel is a work of fantasy, any reference to existing people and real events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 - Andrea Lepri. All rights reserved
Index of the Episodes
EPISODE I Harry's awakening
EPISODE II The plastic model
EPISODE III In the Dead Sea
EPISODE IV Ufo Crash
EPISODE V James's frustration
EPISODE VI The Zen Garden
EPISODE VII Pedro's death
EPISODE VIII The Dome
EPISODE IX Nautilus
EPISODE X In the Great Pyramid
NOTES The Author and the Translator
Episode I
Harry's awakening
Harry looked around confused, struggling to keep his eyes opened. He had just been woken up by complete and deep silence, almost unnatural as if the very essence of life had suddenly left that corner of the world to escape from some kind of dire threat. The fresh and damp air barely moved, a single and unexpected gust shook blowing among the yellow-reddish leaves of the maple grove, otherwise still like in a postcard. Looking at the dark sky above him, speckled only by some remote star, Harry realized he could not tell if it was early morning or late evening.
At first, this fact appalled him, then, by increasing his focus on the clouds that were lying over the Penobscot Bay, he noticed that these had taken on the typical shades of twilight. He assumed the sun must have just set and once again he looked around perplexed, worried because he was late. He carelessly scratched the bite of an insect on his shin, his hand absently came up until an unpleasant sensation of stickiness forced him to look down; then he discovered that he had both knees flayed and that the sense of stickiness was due to a pink jelly, which was penetrating his wounds to heal them with a speed that he thought was impossible.
He watched amazed as his own flesh regenerated until the process was finished, then he touched fearfully where his blood had just gushed a few moments before and he was astonished that he was not hurt at all. He wondered how he could have gotten those injuries, he was sure he had not crashed down from the branch of some tree, because he was more than certain he had not climbed because of his crazy fear of spiders. Later he wondered if by chance he had fallen off his bicycle, but there was no way that was possible. He was a grown man now. How could he have forgotten? Annoyed by all these mysteries, he ran his hands through his smooth, black hair several times, leaning his lower lip forward in an attempt to collect his thoughts. In the end, he sighed resignedly, he could hardly believe it because it had never happened before and yet he must have fallen asleep.
But what happened to his knees? The noise of something struggling furiously in the water intrigued him, drawing him away from his worries. He got up and moved toward the bank of the stream to see what it was. He clung to a low and protruding branch, cautiously walking around a tree bristling on the bank to avoid sliding down and there he spotted his own fishing rod. It was exactly where he left it, between two rocks near the place in the stream by Megunticook Lake. A monstrously large trout was hopping out of the water, trying to break free from the hook. Harry could not remember if he was still awake at the time the fish had bitten and if so what had been his last thought before he fell asleep.
Meanwhile, the grove was slowly recovering to breathe, a sudden and persistent pruning announced that it was the time when the squirrels leap from branch to branch and then go ashore searching for food. An otter, recalled by the noisy trout, peeked out from a bush a few meters upstream, spotted the easy prey and dived, raising splashes of water; when it emerged it aimed firmly towards the fish that seeing it began squirming even more furiously: he knew he had no escape.
Far away the bell chimes of the Rockport church announced that it was time to get ready for dinner. Thinking again he should return home, Harry ran quickly looking for his beloved mountain bike. He really cared about it because convincing his parents he was able to ride it had cost him an arm and a leg; that's why every time he went to the stream he would rest the bike on a tree after wrapping the fishing rod with a rag to avoid scratching it. Instead, he found the bicycle thrown to the ground carelessly; he rushed to pick it up and inspected it inch by inch, to make sure that it wasn't damaged.
Suddenly he felt like someone was spying on him, he looked around for the umpteenth time and the darkness that was cloaking everything intimidated him. A few days before, his father told him to apply a battery-powered light to the handlebars of the bike, but he objected saying that afterward, it would no longer be so beautiful; in that exact moment, he regretted his own decision, because right then a light would have been really useful. New and more intense noises revealed to him that the wood was becoming increasingly alive and faster and when he heard the first nocturnal birds sounds he was frightened so much that he hoped not to be in front of a bear.
He put on his glasses that were around his neck and placed the elastic that prevented him from losing them around his nape. He noticed that one lens was cracked and chipped and he wondered once more what the hell had happened to him; finally he stretched his right arm and then he bent it to bring the watch right under his nose. He wore it by habit because he was not able to tell the time, but knowing that it was late he still brought his hand to his forehead in a blatant gesture deciding that, even if reluctantly, he would leave the equipment there because he doesn't have enough time to pick it up; he told himself he would come back the next day.
He was disappointed he could not take the trout with him because it was perhaps the biggest fish he had ever caught, but he had stopped making noise and this meant that it was probably already gone in the belly of the otter. Harry imagined the otter satisfied while going back to her den to get some sleep because thanks to him the hunt was already over. He shrugged and told himself that at the moment he had far more serious things to think about, for example, the fact that surely his parents already were very angry. So, even though it was a little scary it was necessary to take the shortcut. Without thinking twice he picked up the backpack containing the snack and all its treasures from the ground and threw it over his shoulder, jumped clumsily into the saddle and began to push on the pedals struggling a little to keep the handlebars straight, as he felt stable he swooped down into the woods and crossed the bush in a flash.
He came out on an immense meadow and after walking a few hundred meters he turned left, then he followed a stretch of the mule-track that ran along the valley floor between Payson and Camden until, at the crossroads for the city, he sharply cut through a beet field, being careful to stay away from the scarecrows because he remembered rumors that at night they try to grab whoever passes nearby.
Finally, he climbed to the top of the Camden Hills where he stopped to take a breath. He took off his blue polo shirt, leaving just his white ribbed undershirt on, he used his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead and take a break to observe the sea, it was illuminated by the expanse of lights that ran along the winding coast. The evening ferry ride was accompanied by low flying seagulls: illuminated by a multitude of headlights it was crossing the Penobscot Bay bringing home the commuters from Deer Island, whose lights reflected a thousand glints against the dark surface. Harry moved his gaze to the valley floor in the direction of Rockport, his home was just four or five minutes away and by daylight he would have been perfectly able to recognize the dark slate roof. Instead, he saw confused flashes of red and blue light making their way through the ash trees tops and he kept his eyes wide open in astonishment, then he squinted them for better focus and realized that the lights came right from his garden.
Fearing that something might have happened to his parents, his heart skipped a beat, then he tied his polo shirt to the barrel of the bike and got up on the pedals flying down the steep descent, regardless of the pebbles and holes that might have led to a nasty fall.
James had been pacing back and forth in the garden for hours and was now close to exhaustion and hopelessness. Starting from the early morning he spent the day trying to think according to the habits of his son: every time that was approaching some important appointment for Harry, like the 2 pm tv series or the snack at 4 pm, or the Egyptology collection at 5 pm, he had hoped to see him coming back home. Instead still nothing! He stopped and checked the clock once again, it was past 8 pm and Scooby-Doo had just begun, but there was no shadow of Harry.
He shook his head discouraged and began to roam like a robot back to the large garden, chasing away mosquitoes, and due to the anxiety he had not even noticed that he was reducing his favorite flowerbed into mush, the one adorned with violets that in few days would have welcomed the big Christmas fir tree.
He felt a sense of physical discomfort and unhooked the first two buttons of his shirt as if that simple gesture could help him feel better.
Although they were in late December, that year the summer seemed not to want to end. Instead of snow and ice, the lawns were covered with fragrant flowers and the temperature continued to be around thirty degrees. For this James had taken the bad habit of chugging Budweisers one by one, cursing the heat and humidity; consequently, his stomach had definitely grown and his persimmon colored Deputy Sheriff's uniform had begun to be tight.
Even though science was still far from finding a plausible explanation for this incomprehensible phenomenon, experts from all over the world were in agreement that the climate had by now definitively gone mad and things would hardly get back to normal. To support their theory, which initially many had judged absurd, in many places of our planet, deserts had begun to seem like prairies and vice versa.
Entire ecosystems had packed their bags and quickly moved in search of better living conditions, leaving many scientists speechless. James stopped and looked up at the starry sky, then covered his ears trying to feel far, at least for a moment, from the noise that surrounded him. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, breathed deeply hoping that once opened again he would be in his bed, finally awake, thanking God because it was only a bad nightmare. Optionally, in order to hold his son immediately, he would even have agreed to be the victim of some joke orchestrated by an author of tacky Reality Shows. Instead, when he opened his eyes and uncovered his ears, he was still in the middle of the same chaotic shouting, the same traffic of frosty fluorescent bodices, the same colored flashes cutting through the darkness and of the same confused barking of tired dogs. There were those who gave orders and those who distributed tea and hot coffee, someone with block and pencil asked questions everywhere taking notes, a guy placed in front of a field radio marked portions of a topographic map using a marker pen from the gigantic tip.
James got back to his wanderings and his wife Eve took his arm, accompanying him in his furious gait and pulling back trying to restrain him. Another woman would have been dragged away by his volume and his firm step, but she was a bit taller than him, thin and muscular, the classic Northern European woman with long ash-blond hair and blue eyes so clear that at first sight they might even have looked albino. Tired of being pulled like a trailer, she gave him a yank forcing him to stop, then he looked in her eyes.
What?
he said annoyed.
Really? You should look your face in the mirror, then you wouldn't ask me what
Eve replied. James snorted.
Why don't you let Dr. Parker give you a sedative?
She urged him immediately, using a tone James thought was too thoughtful.
Do you still insist on this? Do you want to tell me why I should take a sedative?
He replied nervously. Before Eve could even answer, Dr. Adam Parker interfered.
He had a fine mustache and round intellectual glasses combined with a fancy butterfly, he looked like a mannequin escaped from an antique shop.
Mr. James, please listen to me! You have not been sleeping for much longer than a day, your eyes are completely bloodshot and the veins on your neck and temples are extremely dilated. I am telling this for your own health, you should rest because going on like this you may collapse within a few minutes. I'm sure that if you would allow me to check your blood pressure, it would be off the charts
he explained to him seriously, staring at him with his tiny clear eyes.
Until I won't see my son again I am not willing to rest, understood? Indeed, if waiting here means collapsing, that's fine!
James argued with a raspy voice looking over at the doctor: he was trying to identify who was sharing out some coffee outside in the crowd.
How I feel is not your business, and if...
he was saying till Hellen arrived. Excuse me,
she said placing a hand on James's forearm trying to get his attention. Eve noticed the gesture and glared at her jealously or perhaps simply claiming her ownership; Helen defiantly stared at her while placing the Sheriff's star pinned to her chest and then again to James.
I must return to base, I have to plan tomorrow workday,
she told him tightening the grip on his arm as a sign of solidarity, then Eve gave her again a piercing glance.
Sure, I see
he nodded nibbling his upper lip.
Good. If you have any news, call me please
Yes Sir, I will keep you updated. Thank you for doing this
he replied sadly because he feared that instead, for that evening, there would have been no news.
Don't give up, I'm sure that anytime now you'll see Harry riding his bike up there, at the top of the driveway,
she said trying to encourage him.
I really hope you're right... but I just can't understand why he did it. Lately, we hadn't even scolded him, we didn't give him one reason to run away from home...
he concluded shaking his head slowly.
I don't think he ran away from home, otherwise he would at least leave you a note so you could feel guilty
Helen objected after thinking for a while. Anyway try to hold on, you'll see that everything will work out. See you Tomorrow
she concluded, then she walked away towards the patrol car, deliberately ignoring Eve. Before getting on the Jeep she stopped to give instructions to agents and volunteers so that the next day at dawn, unless news, everyone would already have known what to do without wasting precious time. Eve focused on James.
Love... I would rather prefer not to insist, but why don't you drink herbal tea? Maybe something that won't let you sleep but help you at least to relax
.
So I wasn't clear enough
he snapped so loudly that everyone was looking at them, I am not going to relax! If you didn't notice yet, I'm in this condition because despite all the efforts we made so far we can't find our son! There is no sign of him or his mountain bike within five miles, and if you really want to know what I don't understand is how can you stay so calm, and above all why we haven't decided yet to call someone expert! By now it is clear that Harry has been kidnapped and despite all their goodwill these people will certainly not be able to help us find him again!
Oh really? Then if that's what you think, why aren't you looking for your child on your own?
The Beagle breeder, who gathered the canine units, told him bothered. His partner answered with a blank stare, shrugging his shoulders.
A kidnapping? We are a very normal family that lives in a remote village of peasants and fishermen, who should have kidnapped our son? And what for?
Eve said, shocked.
I don't know, what I know is that we have to call experts, I told you! What? Do you hope our Harry will be found thanks to them?
James vented his frustration, pointing to the muddled rescue teams set up by the people of the town; they were all returning to the base camp because it was dark and finding Harry would have been impossible. Men and women were emerging in small groups from the bush, exhausted and distressed, and deliberately avoiding to look at Eve or James. Most of them put torches and backpacks to the ground wearily, depressed, discouraged; one guy called loudly for the dog that had plunged back into the bush in pursuit of a hare, another one slipped into the Headquarters, prepared inside a camping tent.
Do you think your colleagues and your boss have done better so far? Maybe the sheriff?
Eve retorted, pointing to Helen as she was giving the latest guidelines. James was going to reply, but the doctor placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention.
Mr. James, I would not seem... don't be offended if I get involved, but I don't think your son may have been kidnapped by someone. You know very well that Harry is not a boy like everyone else, any banality that would leave another child completely indifferent, like a fall from a bicycle, could have caused him emotional trauma. Harry may have lost his sense of direction, or could ...
Save your breath!
James shouted, shaking his hand sharply.
Helen was already seated in the driver's seat of her Cherokee and was about to start the engine. When she heard him screaming, she opened the door and poked her head out to see what was happening: James was approaching his nose a few inches far from the doctor's face and he was going to explode, and knowing how much he disliked him, she feared he might do something foolish. Some of the volunteers were heading towards the two contenders aiming to calm down their souls. Helen was wondering it was not the case to intervene in person.
Look, my son is not an idiot, he only has Down syndrome! Harry has gone fishing alone at Payson Corner several times, he knows how to ride his bike perfectly and can't get lost for five damn miles. Is it clear, Doctor?
James was shouting when a sudden movement behind the doorbell attracted Helen's attention, who would have been able to recognize that silhouette even a hundred miles away.
Helen's heart started beating wildly. Just as she had predicted to James a few minutes before, the boy had materialized beyond the hedge that bordered the east side of the property. Harry used his last energy to quickly walk the steep path that led to the entrance of the garden, and there he stopped to look at the scene panting. He did not understand the reason for all this shouting, but he got close to them, watching fascinated as if it was a movie; most importantly he was relieved because his parents were both there and at first sight, it seemed they were both fine.
Thank God
Helen murmured, bringing her hands to her mouth, jumping off the road and running towards Harry, who had meanwhile walked a few more yards and stopped not far from James. He was approaching interested and amazed for the circus before him. He got off his bike and got down on his knees as if the forces had abandoned him all at once.
Harry!
shouted Helen as she saw him fall. Everyone turned to look and then immediately exploded in a roar of joy followed by euphoric liberating applause. James was the first to reach his boy and literally tore him from Helen's arms.
Dad, you're not angry, are you? I know I was late, but it's not my fault. I must have fallen asleep
.
You fell asleep?
Echoed James. You have been missing home since yesterday at 2 pm. It's eight in the evening! You've been out for thirty hours, where the hell have you been?
He shouted grabbing him by his curved shoulders.
I... How can it be possible, since yesterday?
Harry said confused trying to figure an excuse out, but not finding one he looked at his father with a guilty face. His eyes were moistened and his lips began to tremble, he was going to cry because he thought no one would ever believe him.
Enough! Can't you see he is not feeling well? Let him go!
yelled Eve pushing James away. Then she held his hand helping him to stand up. Don't worry honey it's all right! Come on, let's go inside
she whispered hugging him protectively.
Nodding she invited the doctor to follow them and James, still confused, watched them go towards the house. He wanted to go with them, but he could not move a single nerve: the discharge of stress showed as a sudden wave of fatigue whose backwash had carried him off any remaining energy.
Harry's dog suddenly came out of the reed that bordered the green at the back of the house and ran to him wagging his tail.
Toby!
Harry exclaimed reaching out to pet him, but unexpectedly the dog stopped a few inches from him and immediately backed away to avoid the contact. He raised his snout and sniffed the air, lowered his ears and arched his back, lowering his tail back between his hind limbs. He sniffed again and walked away from the boy again, then straightened the hair on his back and began to growl at him, showing his teeth. Finally, he positioned, ready to attack.
Toby...
Harry murmured disappointed as he moved towards him. James guessed what was going to happen and ran trying to avoid the worst thing. Toby, what...
he said just in time, a moment later the dog pounced on Harry, knocking him over and biting his forearm, which he had instinctively lifted up to protect himself. After that, he placed his nose an inch from his face and again he growled threateningly. James belted the dog and lifted him from the ground aiming to make him harmless, but he felt that he was struggling so hard that he would have escaped immediately. The sensation of dripping blood showed him that the claws of the powerful Collier's hind limbs had caused him a cut in the thigh of his right leg.
Hurry, take him inside, I can't hold Toby anymore
he shouted to Eve. She helped Harry to get up and dragged him home by running, the doctor picked up the leather bag and hurried after them. James let the dog go who barked and gave paws to the door already closed and immediately ran to hide in his wooden kennel, where he continued to yelp and howl for a while. James wanted to punish him but he gave up just after one step because his leg was giving him too much pain. All we need is the crazy dog ...
he whispered stunned scratching his head. That swing of emotions had destroyed him.
It was late and the volunteers were very tired, but Helen continued giving orders to dismantle the Base Camp anyway because the equipment could have been useful if a new emergency had occurred somewhere else. At the end she thanked those who had participated in the rescue and dismissed everyone except the ambulance driver, Dr. Parker would have noticed what to do once he had determined that the boy was fine. Since James was still dazed, Helen was concerned about taking the mountain bike into the shed, she knew how much Harry cared for it and how angry he would have been if the next morning it was still there, thrown out in the meadow.
She bent over the bike and spotted the boy's clock on the grass. She thought the boy must have lost it when he dropped to his knees so she slipped it into his pocket willing to return it to James as soon as possible. She grabbed the handlebars and noticed that it was covered with a very fine light blue-colored luminescent powder; mechanically she tried to scratch it off with the nail of her little finger, but a tiny cut on her fingertip provoked such a pain that she immediately gave up cursing, then she shrugged and started pushing the bike towards the shelter. James recovered and joined her when she was already at the door of the tin shed.
What did I tell you?
she told him with a big smile on her face.
As always you hit the mark again
he admitted it has been scaring. And then the dog ... did you see what he did? Until yesterday he would never have dreamed of behaving that way
.
Dogs are special, probably Harry had a smell he didn't like. Now don't bother your brain anymore, the most important thing is that your boy is at home again and above all that he is safe and sound
.
You're right ... but I really want to know where he was all that time ... do you have any idea how long those thirty hours have been?
Helen didn't tell him, but she knew it at least as well as he did because she had always felt an inexplicable bond with the boy. Don't worry, sooner or later he will tell you everything. But you know him, don't try to force him or he will raise an impenetrable barrier and he will shut himself off ... be patient and let him decide when to tell you everything
she advised him shaking his hand to cheer him up and, as it happened other times their bodies touched, that contact gave both of them a sensation similar to a slight electric shock... Embarrassed, James pulled his hand away, then nodded unconvinced because he was dying of curiosity and wanted to ask his son about what he had been doing all that time.
Now I really have to go, it's very late. Take a few days off, you look wasted
Helen said to close the conversation.
I don't know, I'll think about it
.
What do you mean?
You know, if I stay more than a day locked up in the house, I end up going crazy. And then even Harry will be better distracted, whatever happened to him. I am sure that as soon as he returns to the Scout Camp and his habits than better it will be, for him and us all
.
So what?
I think I'll get back to work the day after tomorrow
James pointed out. She scolded him with her face, but she knew she couldn't force him to stay away from work.
It's your decision, but stay close to him
she replied, and he nodded again.
Will Eve go to work tomorrow?
Knowing her, I think so, and I don't get it. Sometimes it seems like she doesn't care about the two of us
.
Don't say that, you know everyone shows his feelings in many different ways. Still, until everything is back to normal, don't show up, otherwise I'll send you home
Helen concluded, laying down the bike, then pulled the garage door over and left.
On the way home, James saw the doctor going out and ran after him. Dr. Parker ... Adam...
he called, and he slowed down.
Don't worry, James, it's all right. I carefully examined Harry and, except for what the dog did to him, there is not a single scratch on him. I applied a light bandage to his arm, but Toby is healthy and vaccinated and the bite will have no effects
he informed him, continuing to walk towards his Guzzi.
Indeed about the dog, do you know why he acted like that?
James asked him, accompanying him.
I have no idea, I'm not a vet,
Parker said rapidly. Anyway, I gave the boy a sedative, you should go soon or he will be asleep
he added, stopping in front of the bike.
Has he told you something?
James insisted.
He's a little confused, he doesn't remember anything. Now I really have to go, I just received a call from the Roses
he concluded by showing him the flashing led on the pager.
Thank you for everything, doctor. Goodbye
.
The man answered with a vague smile and James walked away, but after just two steps stopped. Dr. Parker?
he called him, and he sighed annoyed because it seemed that James was not really going to let him go.
Look, I ... I know it's worthless, but ... I'm sorry for...
It's okay, it's okay. Now go to your son
the doctor ended the conversation, and James obeyed.
The doctor nodded to the ambulance driver like to say you can go home, then dropped the tool bag into the sidecar of his 1937 Guzzi Sport. He took a buckskin from the glove compartment and removed the layer of moisture from the saddle, an instant later he was booming away.
When the alarming situation ceased, James was experiencing tiredness he'd never had before. Looking down the stairs he was overcome with dizziness and had to hold onto the handrail to keep him from falling. He took a lifetime to reach the upstairs and once he reached the doorway of the bedroom he timidly looked out the door. Harry was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, Eve was sitting beside him and drawing some invisible circles on his forehead with his forefinger to help him relax. James looked at the life-size copy of Pharaoh Tutankhamun's golden mask hanging on the wall opposite the door, then glanced along a line of hieroglyphics until he came across a photo of the Giza Plain taken from the satellite and next to it the three-dimensional poster that reproduced the Sphinx. Later he saw the model of an ancient Egyptian Solar Ship resting on a shelf. He continued by the path of the Nile reproduced on the wall until he got right to his wife's face.
If you're not hungry, at least try to get some sleep, the doctor said you should rest
she was saying to his son. James came in and she looked at him resentfully because a few minutes before he had attacked Harry, then she moved sideways to let him stay and he sat down cautiously beside her.
He took Harry's bandaged arm and lifted it gently, he opened his eyes in surprise and looked at him uncertainly because he feared his father would start to grumble again.
How are you, Professor? Is it hurting you so much?
James asked affectionately instead. Harry was relieved cause when his father was angry he didn't call him by that nickname. So you are not upset with me?
He still asked to have absolute certainty.
Of course not,
said James hinting a smile. Harry smiled at him and his eyes lighted up.
I wasn't even angry before, it's just that you made us...
he started to add, but Eve pinched his leg looking at him badly and he winced because she had caught him just where the dog had hurt him before.
... It is that we have been so anxious...
he mended, lowering his head.
Dad and I were so scared for you, so we were so nervous
Eve explained.
Yes, Mom is right
agreed James, we have been very worried for you
.
I didn't want to make you ... it's just that...
the boy began to say, but immediately he fell silent because a lump in his throat prevented him from continuing, then he hit against the edge of the mattress to release his frustration.
You don't have to worry, now it's okay. Let's not talk about it anymore, okay?
James suggested, winking at him. Harry smiled again and looked at the Constellation of Orion painted on the ceiling, made of a special fluorescent yellow paint that made it shine all night. We will go to Egypt anyway?
He asked them, taking courage. James tried to imagine what would have happened if his son had lost himself in a Casbah or in the middle of one of those neighborhood markets crowded with tourists, and thinking that they probably would have never seen him again he overshadowed. While looking at the brochures stuck between two volumes in the library his heart shrank, then not knowing what to answer he turned to Eve. Of course we'll go, if I am not wrong we decided that it will be your Christmas present
she confirmed.
It's fantastic,
the boy said enthusiastically. Thanks
he added, hugging them both with his short, stubby arms.
But you will have to be very careful and listen to everything we tell you!
Eve pointed out, and Harry nodded.
You have to promise it
James pointed out.
I swear on Amon Ra
Harry confirmed solemnly.
Well. Now we go to sleep because we are destroyed and you will do the same. Do we agree?
Proposed his mother, getting up, James did the same.
All right,
said Harry.
Goodnight, Professor,
James told him, bending down to kiss his forehead.
Goodnight daddy
. Then when James was near the doorway he called him back. James stopped and turned to look at him, Eve passed by and left the room, but stopped in the hall to listen.
Dad, I haven't told you a lie. I don't remember it, what happened. I woke up suddenly, and...
It's okay, I told you don't worry. What matters now is that we are all together again
he assured him. Sweet dreams kid
he repeated, taking a step forward, but the boy called him once more, forcing him to stop again.
Dad?
Yes?
Dad, what does it mean I have the Down Syndrome?
Harry asked out of blue; James felt his stomach twisting and he cursed the moment he had used that word in his presence, even if unknowingly. He blamed himself for breaking the only taboo of his life and his mind ran back almost sixteen years before, it was a beautiful sunny morning like any other day. Dr. Parker had chosen that sunny morning to tell him that his son had genetic problems and that anomaly, that extra chromosome, would have caused him a different
life.
He had reported it to him in the clinic, without preparing him at all for the news and without humanity, coldly explaining the fact to him as if he were teaching a normal lesson in a university classroom. At that very moment, James discovered the meaning of the word hate
, because he had hated the doctor for his eternally insensitive manners. He had thought that if someone had pointed out to him that he had just sat on a bomb ready to explode, he would have made that usual unbearable gesture with his hand and replied, Well, we will see what we can do about it.
He remembered how in an instant all the projects he had done on his child had collapsed, at that precise moment he realized that from that moment on their lives would be changed forever.
Since then they would have had to think mainly of blocking the blows because Harry would never have reached full self-sufficiency and probably would have been bullied even starting from the kindergarten. Often James asked God why it had happened to him, almost as for personal offense or spite, he had repeatedly wondered if this was a punishment for something he had done and, if so, for what. But when he picked up Harry for the first time all his doubts and bitterness suddenly vanished and over time he learned that his son was something incredible. Something different, indeed not worse, and so he had made peace with God.
While he was looking for the most suitable words to answer James swallowed a couple of times, he had the impression time was flying. Harry kept staring at him, waiting for an answer, his eyes half-closed and his tongue resting on his lower lip, just a little bit protruding, and he couldn't tell if the question had been asked three seconds or three hours before.
It means...it means...
he stuttered, unable to finish the sentence.
It simply means that you are special ... but you already knew that!
Said Eve, returning into the bedroom to help James.
Now sleep, or this time I'll be the one to get angry!
she added a little bit impatient, tucking him in, then turned off the lamp on the dresser and took James by the arm to drag him out.
James was still under the sheets with his arms folded under his head and peering at the ceiling, he was too tired to sleep and couldn't stop thinking about those nightmarish hours. He heard the television downstairs turning off and his wife slowly coming up the stairs. Eve entered the room, took the clip out of her hair and placed it on the dresser, took up her brush and the nightgown and went to the bathroom without looking at him once. He followed her with his eyes until the bathroom door was closed, only then he slapped with anger the pillow next to him. Eve had stopped changing in front of him for so long, over the years they had almost completely lost their intimacy and confidence and had sex seldom; James could not even remember when it had been the last time. Moreover, she always wanted to have it in the dark, as if she had something to be ashamed of, and James had never liked that. In the end, as in a silent truce, he had stopped looking for her and she had begun to deny herself, without trauma, and James had thought resignedly that it was probably because of their own hormones that they no longer fit.
Suddenly he compared his wife to a Praying Mantis: just as the insect kills his companion after the relationship that serves only to procreate, in the same way, she had killed their relationship after having had Harry. Annoyed by his own thoughts, he snorted and turned on his side in trying to sleep. Eve entered the room continuing to smooth her hair with her fingers untangling a knot. She put the brush on the dresser, mirrored herself one last time and slipped under the sheets. Goodnight,
she said, turning off the light and then turned her back.
Goodnight?
James said, turning the light back on, Eve gave him a nervous glance. Why, now what? I'm destroyed and I want to sleep!
"How can you be so calm? Our son was away for a day and a half, he came back with torn clothes and broken glasses but no a single scratch on him. Furthermore, he does not remember where he was nor what he did for all that time; we have been searching for him by sea and by mountains and there was no single sign of him. Then suddenly, as he had disappeared, he reappeared magically, even so, everything is fine now? As if nothing ever happened? And all you can say is goodnight
?"
Why? What do you think we should do now? Do you want to call the FBI to find out what happened? My son has come home and that's enough for me, and let it be enough for you too!
I can't!
James murmured, shaking his head. She sighed dejectedly.
He got probably lost, perhaps he found slept in a barn or a cabin for hunting and spent the night there. And maybe he doesn't want to tell us the truth because he fears our reaction
she strived to say it stretching her arm toward the light switch.
When he told us he didn't remember anything he wasn't lying!
James insisted.
How can you be sure of that?
You also know that Harry doesn't tell lies! And in any case, this fact changes everything, we will have to review the margin of trust and freedom that we can grant him! This is a big step backward
he concluded dismayed.
How can you say so? I think you're exaggerating
.
Do you think I'm exaggerating? Think if it happens again, maybe next time we might not be lucky enough to see him again! Do you know how many people disappear every day without leaving a trace?
It won't happen again, don't worry!
she cut him off with her firm expression. Shocked by the excess of security in the tone of his voice, James oddly looked at her.
I mean, my guess is it was just a prank, I don't think he will do it again... and how can you even presume to know how I feel about it? I'm exhausted, I stayed awake all night the same just like you! Now I'm begging you, please turn the light off, I really need to get some sleep!
James thought about them, when in the middle of the night together they were wandering in the woods searching for Harry, shouting his name as loud as they could, and concluded that perhaps he had judged her too harshly. Eve had not stopped searching for a moment, even when he had returned to base camp to take stock.
You're right ... I'm sorry, that was mean of me
he admitted, and she looked at him seriously. You're forgiven,
she told him after a moment.
Are you serious?
Yes, as long as you let me sleep now ... please, I need it so much
Eve said, then turned on her side and curled up. James turned off the light and turned to her, made his chest stick to her back and pushed his knees into the crook of her bent legs, then gently laid his hand on her hip and moved a little closer. He had naively dared to hope that episode could have helped them to be closer, to reopen a speech that had by then been closed, but in response, she took off his hand and let it fall a little further. I said goodnight
she pointed out, pushing toward the edge of the bed to get away from that contact.
Goodnight
James replied, annoyed and disappointed, then turned away.
After continuing to change position and turning over for at least half an hour James had succumbed to fatigue, the digital alarm display showed it was seven minutes past three in the morning and he had been snoring loudly for over four hours. Eve put her hand on his shoulder and shook him vigorously, he mumbled something in protest and curled up pulling the sheet towards him. She began to count mentally and before she could even arrive at ten James was snoring again, stronger than before, so she turned on the lamp and studied him to make sure he was really sleeping soundly. When she was sure nothing would have wakened him up, neither firing a cannon shot, she turned off the lamp and took a flashlight from the drawer of the dresser, slipped silently out of bed and after putting on her robe she climbed the stairs leading to the attic.
In the attic, she started looking for a faulty wooden skirting board element, once she found it, pushed the table away and slipped her hand into the slot to pull out an old leather bag. She opened the zipper and spilled the contents onto a dusty carpet, chose what she needed and repeated the stairs. She went back into the master bedroom, holding a small bottle to which she had already removed the cap, then she went around the bed to join James, stopped in front of him and after a brief hesitation she placed the bottle just under his nose for a couple of seconds. He jumped suddenly and opened his eyes, opened his mouth as if to say something but unable to speak, because he instantly fell into an even deeper sleep. Immediately afterward, Eve went to the bedroom and repeated the same treatment to Harry, who had the same reaction as James, then took an object similar to a metal clamp from a pocket of her robe; an object that ended with a magnetic hemisphere placed on top of a telescopic stem. She pulled the boy's head abruptly, grabbed the pliers and stretched the stem towards his face while wondering how she could not be sorry for what she was doing to him. She looked at him again for a few seconds, her arms firm, still being completely indifferent, then she summarily slipped the device into his nose because she was in a hurry to go back to sleep.
The Rockland Sheriff's Office controlled the entire Knox County coastline and much of the hilly area behind it. It had been placed inside an old neoclassical building set in open countryside, near the Provincial road that connected South Hope to Rockville and even to the vastness of the area it was perfectly equipped. Helen hardly up to the steps until the entrance, framed by the stubby white columns that supported the pediment, she mumbled a greeting to the agent Dower who was working in the gatehouse and slipped furtively into the hallway reluctantly. The woman had never been happier to work in such a quiet town, she knew that probably that morning would run off without trouble and she would have enough time to recover. She needed to sit and stay as long as possible with her eyes closed because she felt like she was falling apart; in fact, she spent the whole night trying to delete the image of that frightened boy clinging to the handlebars of his bicycle.
She walked through the hallway with his head down, pointing straight to her office, responding with nods and grunts to the greetings of the agents she met along the way.
Helen
the receptionist tried to stop her with her shrill voice, but Helen as responding raised an arm, to say whatever it is, it can wait
, and went straight on her way. Cindy looked at her walking away shocked because she didn't expect such an answer, then shrugged, thought worse for you!
For a moment Helen felt guilty for being so rude to her, and soon she was seized by the suspicion that probably, judging by the anxiety she had caught in her voice, that morning would not have been as quiet as she had hoped. Opening the door of her office she closed her eyes and began a loud yawn that ended when the door was closed.
Bless you!
Exclaimed an unexpected male voice, making her jump. Despite her numb senses and the blurred vision due to two massive tears, Helen found that figure and voice vaguely familiar. She repeatedly rubbed his eyes, and when her eyes started working well again, she looked frustrated at the man who was sprawled on her chair. Dr. Stevenson was the last person she ever wanted to have to deal with that morning.
You took it easy this morning!
He said, checking the clock, then reached for his red-orange juice, but she forced him to retract his arm with a sharp glance. While she was trying to find the words to answer in the most appropriate way, she violently scratched the little finger of his right hand, which continued to annoy her uncomfortably from the previous night. What a nice surprise
she mumbled, I come to work after two consecutive nights without sleeping and I find you blissful seated on my chair, with your feet crossed on my desk. And as if that was not enough you have just eaten my breakfast, and you are not just someone but a coroner. And if there is a coroner in my office, then there is a dead body coming! Am I right?
Stevenson pointed to the corridor in the direction of the morgue, to specify that the corpse was already on the couch, then raised his hand to show his fingers open to V
to emphasize that, indeed, the corpses were two. At first, Helen hoped that the doctor was there for a quick visit and as usual he had stopped only for one of his usual jokes, perhaps even for have his breakfast, but looking at him again she realized that on his face there was not even a shadow of a smile.
Gosh! What a great way to start the day
she murmured, despaired. He spread his arms as if to clear his name and then pointed to the dust-covered treadmill set in a corner of the office. Do you still keep yourself fit?
He asked. She turned absently to the roller, but just a moment later she remembered that this was one of his usual tricks, her head snapped back and surprised him with his open hand reaching back for her juice. Helen put her hands on her hips and looked at him annoyed, then he faked to sweep away some crumbs from the desk and then tidied up his shirt.
I haven't lighted it for a while...
Helen said turning around the table while he got up to let her seat, she sat down and scratched her little finger again, yawning again.
What happened to your finger? It seems to be pretty bad
.
What do you mean?
She asked, looking down to take a look until then she had not considered that annoyance and it appeared alarming.
I don't know, from the color of the skin it would seem the beginning of necrosis ... if I were you I would immediately jump to a dermatologist to get a check
Stevenson advised her, grabbing her wrist to look at it better, but she abruptly pulled her hand back. Forget my finger and tell me who's there!
She said, then grabbed the glass and took a couple of sips of juice because she began to feel her throat dry.
I don't know, they didn't have documents and their car doesn't have a license plate
the doctor informed her, and she threw her eyes to the sky, cursing it because that was the worst way to start an investigation. Where were they found?
Apparently two nights ago they were in the mood for effusions and they hooked up in the woods behind Camden Hill, near the Megunticook Lake. What happened afterward is unknown, they were found this morning at dawn thanks to an anonymous phone call
.
Did you say two nights ago?
Helen asked, surprised.
Yes I did
he confirmed.
And how do you know they were there for two days?
You know how long I've been in this business, haven't you?
She nodded as she wondered how two bodies might have been found right there. In the previous two days they had searched that area far and wide with every mean looking for Harry; how could they not have noticed a car with two bodies inside?
What's the matter?
Asked the doctor, noting his perplexity.
Nothing, I was wondering about something else
she lied. What happened to them?
I don't know yet, for now, I just looked shortly, but the visual analysis showed no trauma whatsoever. When you feel ready we will proceed to the autopsy
.
...We?
Of course, I said we
.
And what makes you think I'm going to assist you during the autopsy?
She said, puzzled.
My assistant is sick and you know better than me that the necrological exam cannot be done alone. You will only have to pass me the surgical instruments, it won't be the first time, isn't it?
Unfortunately not, it won't be
she replied disgusted, moving the still half-full glass of reddish liquid away, and I can guarantee you that this is not the kind of experience I love to do
.
I get it,
the doctor commented gravely. Can I?
He added afterward with a raspy voice pointing at the juice; if he had waited another minute without drinking he would have fallen, choked by Helen's sandwich. She nodded, thinking that from his hunger he seemed to have just returned from jogging rather than about to do an autopsy. Then she wondered, tall and thin as he was, how could he eat all that food. He chugged the juice in one gulp, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up.
Are you ready?
He urged her with a burlesque smile.
I'm ready, but I don't understand what's so funny about this,
Helen said, annoyed by his attitude.
"Nothing,