The Royal Stones of Eden (Royal Secrecies Book 1) (12 page)

“Get out!” Peter screamed. He was face-to-face with Dred.

“Honestly, Peter! Is this anyway—at all—to treat your brother?”—Dred said it while he frowned in disappointment.

Chapter 8

Mattie Remembers

Mattie's toes curled and dug into the gritty sand as she sat on a rock near Lover's Point. The air was restless as the breeze from the bay scuttled through her glistening red hair. As a squirrel scampered over a nearby patch of sand and shells, Mattie folded her arms around her body in an attempt to warm herself.

David moved closer to her while he carefully balanced his steps and navigated over each jagged stone that glimmered in the new morning light. The waves threatened only slightly as rippling water seeped through the places between the rocks in an attempt to rise from the shallow depth. Once close to Mattie, he sat down on the rock ledge behind her, wrapped his virile arms around her, and straddled her hips with his legs. He asked her if she was cold as he tightened his embrace.

"That feels good, honey," Mattie purred. "I wrote down some thoughts, and I want to talk to you about what I remember."

She began to tell her edited and selective tale of mystery.

"My very first memory of the tragedy is a building on fire. I was there. I know it. The details of my memory are sketchy. I remember walking up and down streets, and I remember a building on fire—maybe there were many," she added. Mattie stared at the blue waters as the ripples dashed near them.

"You used to have nightmares when we first met," David interjected. "You even walked in your sleep and kept talking about getting the bread out of the oven."

"I did? Yes! I was looking for bread to bake."—Mattie thought it was odd that David still remembered her earlier sleepwalking days. "You stayed with me even though I occasionally walked in my sleep."

"You only did it for a week or so."—David rested his chin on her shoulder, touched his cheek to hers, and asked her to continue.

"I must have been looking for a store to buy bread."—Mattie responded to David's touch on her face by reaching her left hand back to his firm neck and resumed.

"I remember walking away from the building. I remember that I had two children. I did not know where they were. All I could think of was escaping the fire and finding my children. David, it was another time and place. It was a long time ago and near the ocean. I feel like I must have lost two children. Yes, I had two children that died in that other time."—Mattie had remembered something else, but she stopped herself as she decided not to reveal quite all that she remembered.

David asked her if she was talking about reincarnation or a past-life memory. But Mattie told him that she did not believe in reincarnation, although she could not prove it to be true or false.

"I was there, David—somehow and someway—I was there!” she insisted as she brushed his arms off and stood up against the wind as if to make a stand.

"How do you forget a horrible memory like that?"—Mattie hid her puzzled look as she covered her face with her hands and faced a bright sun.

While Mattie and David talked on the shore, the nearby Lover's Point Coffee Shop opened their doors to their familiar customers. It was an old and favorite shop of surfers, tourists, and drifters. It was also home to numerous sea lions that waded through the wooden beams that held up the coffee house below. The shop provided both outside and inside seating, and the menu was full of various choices of sandwiches, teas, and coffees. It opened its doors mid-morning because it catered first to the late risers.

A Cadillac pulled into the coffee shop's parking lot, and a large man exited. The African-American man carried a cane and wore dark sunglasses. His attempt to wear a Hawaiian shirt and blend in failed miserably. The shirt was a tight fit, and he perspired profusely through it. The man had evidently purchased the shirt recently—the attached purchase tag waved in the blustering wind near the belt level.

The man ordered his coffee with cream and sugar and headed toward the sundeck in the rear of the shop. He walked and shifted his weight back and forth between his leg and his cane. His alternate limp caused the floor to creak as he made his way to a table and took out his cell phone. After a moment, he reached his party on the other end while perspiration started to pool on his eyelids and drop on his shirt.

"Where is he? I thought you said he was on the beach!"—the man disconnected the call after he heard a productive response. Then he reached into his pocket, withdrew a pack of cigarettes, and extracted one. Colored at one end with a grey and reddish orange tip, it was visibly distinguishable from the others in the pack. He twisted it at one end, and the cigarette extended. Then he pulled on the extended end, and it elongated even more to a length of almost five inches. This action seemed to light up the colored end, and it simulated a burning cigarette. He held it up in a natural position, between his two first fingers of his right hand, and he viewed the beach with his mini scope. An image transmitted to only the inner part of his dark sunglasses. He spotted Mattie and David, although the image was not clear. He could see them but could not hear their conversation.

"I woke up in a hospital with those memories and with little others. I did not even know how to drive a car. I could not remember the names of family or friends, and I did not even know who my boyfriend was when I returned from the hospital."—Mattie's face grew cold and stiff from the brisk wind.

"The doctors never knew what I was experiencing. I was in the hospital with a bladder infection for three days. The doctors never knew I had lost my memory. I never told anyone, except for Sylvia Reeves, a friend of mine. I mean—she claimed to be my friend—I didn’t remember
her
either. For all the doctors or anyone else knew, I was just another hysterical female that didn’t know her own mind.

"Sylvia Reeves took me in for a few weeks while I recovered mentally. I left my boyfriend and moved in with Sylvia and her children. Sylvia had recently lost her husband. She said that she felt that she had a common bond with me, and she offered me support, with no strings attached. She explained to me that she was a good friend of mine, so I trusted this stranger to guide me back into the land of the living, so to speak. I learned how to drive, and I obtained a job at a hospital doing laundry. I went back to school or college. That was about four or five years before we met in San Francisco.

"Sylvia told me that I had just lost my former spouse in an apparent suicide two months before my memory loss. She said there had been a nasty divorce two years before that. I was a woman of mystery even to myself.

"Everyone that knew me before my hospital stay said that I had changed and that I was different in so many ways. I had no memories of my current life before the hospital, except for the burning building scene that I tried to tell you about."—Mattie sat down again and allowed another comforting embrace from David.

"So you woke up in a hospital and could not remember your former life?” David probed. “What happened before the hospital? Do you remember anything else? What triggered the memory loss?" David spoke softly in her ear with a non-evasive tone.

Not far away, at the coffee shop, the man put away his scope, finished his coffee, and hobbled back to his car. He did not realize that
he
was being watched and monitored.

On a nearby hill, a BMW was parked with its left window rolled down. The man was in a sports jacket, and his black hair flapped in the intrusive wind. He held binoculars and an audio antenna, and he pointed them in the direction of the man that walked toward his Cadillac. He then pointed the equipment to David and Mattie on the beach. He had heard their entire conversation and was still listening. He pushed a button on the dash of the BMW and connected to a Bluetooth phone call. He talked with confidence while he observed Mattie and David.

"Reporting in, sir. You were right about him. He didn't drive to Los Angeles like he said. He came to see David, in Monterey! What do you want me to do?" the man asked.

The voice on the other end of the call said, "As to David and the girl, keep watching them and report back anything you find out. As to the man in the Cadillac, don't let him get to David. I don't tolerate disloyal employees." He paused. "Let him leave the area. Follow him. Then kill him!"

On the beach, David and Mattie finished their conversation.

"I am going to be honest, David. I do remember more details—much more. But the memories are too painful for me today!"—Mattie leaned into David's chest. She could not tell him everything now. She needed time.

"It's ok, babe!"—David held her tightly, warming against her body. "I am sure with such trauma of a divorce and memories of losing children, regardless of when it happened, or where..."—David's watch beeped slightly and flashed. David saw the words on the watch screen that indicated that it was Thomas. It was a reminder that brunch would be ready soon and that David had a call from a friend. "We have to get back Mattie. We got food waiting for us."

Mattie felt that there was one detail that David needed to know. She thought that it would break the ice later when she would tell him her entire story.

"David, I do remember another detail,” she said. “I remember holding two stones. This mysterious man gave them to me and..."—Mattie was interrupted.

"What did you say?"—hooked on every word, David turned and looked into her eyes as she resumed her story.

"I held on to two stones while I was at the burning building. I remember one was blue, and one was white," Mattie told him.

"Let's get back to the house. It's getting colder.”—David was interested but changed the subject. There was a pressing matter elsewhere. “Besides, I have a few tales of my own to share with you."—David stood and offered his hand to help her up. He dusted off the sand that invaded his pant's crevices and stuck to the moisture-drenched denim.

"David, you don't understand! I
have
those stones. I woke up in the hospital after I had come to myself. I was holding onto those stones with my hands!"

"What!"—David looked around suddenly and acted paranoid as if no one else should hear that information. "Where are they, Mattie? The stones—where are they?”—David looked around the beach from his viewpoint at Lover's Point and quickly combed the area with his glance.

"I gave them to Sylvia, just before leaving North Carolina for California,” Mattie answered. “Why? What's the rush anyway?"—Mattie stretched her thin bare arms toward the clear blue skies and yawned.

"Mattie, I am going to break Haj out of jail!" David declared.

Meanwhile, the man at the BMW, on the nearby hill, put away his scope and listening device. He said with some degree of satisfaction while he smiled, "That's what
you
think David! That's what
you
think!"

Chapter 9

Peter and Dred

Just Before Egypt

The idea of having a brother intrigued Peter. So he decided to stay an extra night at his hotel in Carmarthen because Dred wanted to drink and dine downtown—the funeral would have to wait one more day. Peter thought it was odd that Dred had no place to stay and felt some superficial degree of pity on him. He took a taxi back to his hotel with Dred, who gave him a hard luck story about being out of work. Then, after a quick trip to his hotel room, they both made a day of it in Carmarthen. Dred pretended to be interested in Peter, and Peter pretended to care about Dred, each of them seeking information about the other. After a day of insincerity, they ended their night at a popular local pub.

Dred wondered why Peter had mentioned the name Cai earlier. Had Peter believed his lies and suggestions that he had placed in his mind? And, if so, would he believe his truths as well?

Dred’s disdain was partially due to jealousy and partially from a low tolerance of ignorance or failure.

Does Peter actually expect me to sit in a pub and bond with him emotionally or spiritually?

They were at the King's Pub in Carmarthen when Peter began to open up to Dred—first with a question.

"Why didn't mum ever speak about you?"—Peter suspiciously leaned over the table—as if he was prepared to hear a secret.

This question made Dred think a moment.

Should I say that his mother was a whore? This is going to be fun! Perhaps the truth or at least part of it might prove amusing to us both.

"Our mother had several affairs, Peter!"—Dred could not resist.

"Jenny had…I mean, our mother…she was extremely dissatisfied with her marriage to her lord and master...her king!” Dred almost choked on his words.

Peter clarified, “Her king?”

Dred knew this was not going to be easy at all, and he wondered if he could explain to Peter that both his father and mother were once members of a royal family. Did Peter know his true history?

“Your mother regarded her husband as nobility, in a way.”—Dred compromised the truth to avoid a discussion.

Dred became uncomfortable talking about Peter’s family. This conversation and relationship builder intruded on his true purpose, but Dred was quite surprised to find out that Arthur had alluded to his royal status, just before his death.