Plague of Coins (The Judas Chronicles #1) (27 page)

Alistair’s eyes grew misty, and so I looked away to avoid the same thing happening to me. I caught a glimpse of something glowing brightly inside the carry-on bag he had yet to unpack, resting beside the sofa.

“What’s this?” I stepped over to it. In truth, I already knew what I’d find there. “I should’ve known you’d be up to some shenanigans in the Garden of Eden!”

“Pops, before you overreact to this, I want you to consider two things,” said Alistair, as he sought to intercept me. Unfortunately for him, I made it to the small duffle bag before he did. “First, Amy and Jeremy took some crystals, too.”

“So that’s supposed to make it right, I take it?”

“No...but here’s the second thing: I’m continuing to feel better since I pocketed a handful of smaller shards Thursday,” he said.

He grinned sheepishly. This was probably in response to the playful scowl I wore.

“You mean, you’re feeling younger, right?”

“Yeah, that’s correct.”

“Well, just keep em’ to yourself and
don’t
take any of them with you to Georgetown for ‘show and tell’ this fall!”

“What?! And risk losing my ‘fountain of youth’ to some rich kid whose just beginning to figure out the trouble his wee-wee can get him into? You should know me a helluva lot better than that!”

“I do.” I reached inside the bag and picked up three of the pinky-sized shards. These were murkier than the ones I saw land near us in the cave. Alistair must’ve picked these up from somewhere else. Perhaps, while we were running for our lives out of the cave? “But you’ve got to be extremely careful with this stuff, since gems like these aren’t at all easy to hide. And it’s not as if you, me, or anyone else we know can go get some more if you lose what you’ve got here.”

If not for the detour around the security check points and Customs when we returned to the states the night before, Alistair’s incredibly precious gems would likely have been confiscated...forever.

“So, I take it that Jeremy never told you about another Tree of Life located deeper in the cave system?”

What in the hell?

“No, he didn’t,” I said, after my jaw dropped open. Yeah, I was pretty flabbergasted to hear this information. “When did he tell you that?”

“When you were in the churchyard looking for your precious silver coin, Pops!” he said, smugly. “Apparently the other Tree of Life is in the middle of a much bigger garden, with all kinds of amazing animals, birds, and plant life. He told Amy and me that it more closely resembles the biblical garden outlined in Genesis.”

I could only shake my head after hearing this. Actually, a second garden made a lot of sense to me, as I thought about the angel’s delay in getting back to the Tree of Life we visited when the Russians invaded the cave. At the time I thought Ophanim might’ve been napping on the job. Now, I pictured the angel traveling through a vast network of caverns from the other Garden of Eden to get back to where we were.

I guess that leaves us with more interestingly cool things to consider.

“Hey, Pops, I just happened to look at the clock...didn’t you say you wanted to visit Mom this afternoon?”

“Yes, I did.” I glanced at the clock on my cell phone, since I gave the wristwatch I’d been wearing for much of the past week back to Cedric just before we landed at Dulles. My preferred timepiece was in my townhouse, still tucked away in the top drawer of my bedroom dresser from where I left it before our trip. “Nurse Larisa told me your mom is retiring early these days when I spoke with her last night.”

“That’s true,” said Alistair. “But Mom looked a lot better when I visited her this morning.”

A hollow feeling touched my awareness for a brief instant until I pushed it away. I reminded myself that at least Beatrice was still with us...I still had more time to spend with her. Before our trip, I thought she might pass at any time. Alistair’s update gave me hope.

“You should go now, so you’ll have more time with her,” said Alistair. “We can get together tomorrow for lunch or dinner, if you’re up to it.”

I smiled again, enjoying the energy my boy seemed to have. Heck, just two weeks ago, Alistair canceled a dinner reservation with me due to feeling beat and exhausted. And that was a couple of weeks after the school year at Georgetown had ended.

“All right, son, we’ll do lunch tomorrow. I’ll call you tonight, after I finish my visit with your mom,” I said, and moved back down the hallway to the front door.

“Have a good time, Pops!” he called after me. “Lock the door as you leave, if you don’t mind!”

“Sure. I’ll talk to you later!”

Once outside, I headed for my Acura and climbed in. My car’s dashboard clock read 2:48 p.m., which would leave me about an hour to visit with my wife if I ripped through traffic. I drove like a maniac, though careful not to put anyone else in danger. It made me feel sort of like a teenager in love, and I had already started the day like this. I picked up a dozen red roses on the way to Alistair’s pad, and they were still fresh despite the summer’s heat. Wrapped and ready, with a love letter I fully expected Beatrice never to read herself. I hoped she could still hear me as I whispered the words to her after my arrival to her room.

“Well, you just made it in time, William!”

Larisa Jones stood by the nurse station, just down the hall from Beatrice’s room. She beamed when she saw the bouquet I carried and shook her head knowingly.

“Boy, if you’re bringing those for your grandmother, I can only imagine the kind of things you do for a girlfriend!”

“Grandma’s favorites and a get well card,” I said, sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders.

Really, I hate the imagery that pops in my head when Nurse Jones looks at me as she did right then. It makes me feel like some juvenile pervert preying on the elderly. If she only knew the truth.

It’s one of those moments when I try to flash my focus to fifty years from now, when in all likelihood the Nursing Home and the people working there will be long gone. Of course, that likely meant all of those closest to me would have long disappeared, as well. Keep in mind that I also like this lady named Larisa. She always makes me smile.

“Beatrice is going to love the flowers when she sees them, but she’s probably still resting, William,” said Larisa. “She’s had a good day, though, and seemed a little more coherent for a little while after your dad visited her this morning.”

“He told me that she seems a little better,” I said. “I hope she continues to get better....”

I couldn’t finish my words, as the thought of her imminent passing seized my heart and soul like nothing else—other than my boy’s near-death encounters when we were in Iran.

“You better get on in there, William.” She glanced at her wristwatch and then at the clock across from the nurse station. “I’ll go ahead and allow you to stay in there for forty-five minutes or so, since I know you like to read to her.”

She walked down the corridor with me to my wife’s room and then gently opened the door. I told her ‘thank you’, and slid into the room. I thought Larisa might close the door behind me right away, but she snuck into the room and quietly pulled out a vase and filled it with water from a water pitcher on the nightstand closest to my wife. Afterward, she tiptoed out, offering me a shy but warm smile as she closed the door behind her.

I held the card that contained my latest love letter to my wife as I watched her breathe. So frail...though not as near death’s door as she had been when I last saw her, a little over a week before. Her breathing was more rhythmic than I remembered—which is always a key thing in determining how close the elderly are to moving on from this world and into the next.

That’s good…. I may have a few more weeks...maybe even a couple of months with her....

“Hello, my love.... I have returned to you as I promised,” I whispered sweetly.

I brought the chair I favor over to her bedside, and pulled it up as close to her as possible. Then I read the contents of my letter to her, telling her again how much I regretted ever leaving her so long ago, and how I also regretted not revealing myself to her when she was still of sound mind and body. I finished my discourse with a promise always to love her, as the only woman who ever touched my soul, and that I would always protect and care for Alistair, our beloved son.

Of course, she said nothing, although her breathing deepened a few times during my reading of the last love letter I ever intended to write to her. My closure and maybe the very thing her soul needed to cross over to the other side—to finally break the heaviest tie to those on earth. Alistair had made his peace months before, so it was really just me hanging on to the fantasy that Beatrice might somehow recover and stay with us a few more years.

Since I still had about twenty minutes left, I picked up
Pride and Prejudice
and began reading where I last left off. It’s a novel I never tire of, and I’ve come to believe that’s the case because it has always been one of
her
favorites. When it was time to leave, I set the book down on her dresser and placed the card holding my letter on the side of the nightstand closest to her head. Honestly, I didn’t care if anyone read it and discovered that the young man visiting her was her husband—or, at least
believed
he is her husband.

Sometimes a change of scenery brings a fresh perspective to problems at home. I guess this was my way of letting her go. I fully expected a deluge of tears to engulf me all the way back home to my townhouse. And then I’d deal with my grief for as many weeks, months, and years as it would take.

“I will always love you, Beatrice,” I whispered after bending down close to her ear. “You will always be the
one....
”

Unlike the last time I did this, I didn’t detect movement behind her eyelids. She seemed to be sleeping soundly. A moment between dreams, perhaps? I would’ve liked to think she was resting in the Lord’s bosom, the thing so many theologians and clergy talk about. At least if she did pass this way, she’d be at her best. The sunken darkness around her eyes had lifted.

As a parting gesture, I reached for her left hand. I noticed her fingers were wrapped around something small and glass-like. Something that glowed.

I gasped.

I couldn’t help myself, and though alarmed at first, the realization and myriad possibilities of what this could mean flooded my awareness. Even the army of liver spots on her hand had faded since Alistair placed the crystal in it that morning.

“Hello, William,” said Beatrice.

Her voice was still weak...but not shaky. Was she even awake—at least
fully
awake? Hard to say for sure, especially since less than a minute after she spoke she snored softly. But when she said my name, it came with a sense of knowing. It reminded me of how it used to be when we were in Scotland, and she had something dear to her heart to discuss...or had a bone to pick with me.

I reclaimed my chair and brought it up to her bedside. I don’t know what I’ll tell Nurse Larisa when she returns to kick me out of here. In the meantime, I intend to stay put and wait for my wife—the love of my life—to fully awaken.

Will she deliver a long-overdue tongue lashing for faking my death and leaving her and Alistair to fend for themselves so many decades ago? Or, will this be a reconciliation that is equally suffered for?

Maddening questions, both of them.

Just like me, everyone will have to wait for what’s next.

The End

Available now:

Reign of Coins

The Judas Chronicles, Book Two

(Please read on for a sample)

As I’m sure that most of you can imagine, I enjoyed a restless night, with almost no sleep. Not that the lack of sleep is normally an issue for me, as often I can go days on end without an extended rest period. But, whenever alcohol is involved, I actually do get tired enough to close my eyes for a ‘power nap’. Often, I get some great inspiration that way.