Todd Revisited: Discovery (Chapter 14)

Time had passed without him realizing it, when lost in the memory of his Ireland experiences, and it was getting late.  McBain had protested about attending the Black Tie Affair that Todd had volunteered him for in the phone call with Tomas Delgado.  Of course, he left his tux in the room and went off, telling Todd to "channel surf."  That was getting old, but what else was there?  He'd read enough about The Impostor online and was afraid he would be tempted to do more of the same if he got near the computer, besides the fact that McBain had cautioned him against using it, since it was police-business related.


He turned on the television with a great amount of disinterest, once again.  Cooking shows.  "Who needs a cooking show?"  He thought about it.  People who know how to cook care about cooking, but don't need the show.  People who can't cook, like McBain, don't want the show, or obviously, they would learn to cook.  He heard his own voice, "TV sucks these days."


He did channel surf, being a "good boy" like McBain had warned him.  Of course, this made him drowsy and detached, and wanting to think more.  For some reason, even though it was not a good time in his life, the easiest thing to think about was the time he was in Statesville.  All of that flowed back simply, like water, and it was clear, never muddled or hazy.  In fact, that period of his life, all the way through to when Jack was born was like Lucite; he could see through it perfectly with no distortion.  It was after Jack's birth and return to Blair that he began to face troubles remembering.  Some things stood out, like the day Blair sang to him on Valentine's Day, or when Jack got sick from aplastic anemia.  Even when he went to That Damn Desert Island, as he had referred to it to this day, was pretty clear for him.  But following that, things he would remember, or try to, either had a hazy film over them or brought him immense, intolerable anxiety and pain.


Of course, he still could not explain why his mind, whatever was left of it after 8 years of torture, went back repeatedly to Ireland.  And here it was again, looming ahead in its verdant mystery, calling him to explore.  He sat back on the couch, and let the mute button bring silence, as he went into his head.


A few hours later, silence came over the cabin and sleep finally came.  Aman and Lilly were out doing whatever it was they did and he rested.  In his mind, he was dreaming.  Again he found himself standing at the edge of the glen.  And there was the woman, her face so beautiful, but not quite recognizable to him.  And again, she drifted  across the mist, smooth like a spirit.  He wanted to cry out to her in warning, but did not know how to get her attention without being able to speak.  His throat was dry, he could not talk.  And like before, he knew, from the other dreams, that soon the shots would ring out and he would see her drop the child and fall.  Except this time, he knew where the shots were coming from.  They were from his own life when he had been shot in the back.  Suddenly, unexpected, he ran across the glen as fast as he could, and halfway across, he stopped short, unable to move.  His legs, were paralyzed.  Looking down, he saw them as two tree branches, ragged and lifeless.  He panicked, and looked up to see her facing him head on.  One her face was recognition and love.  He looked away because it hurt to see her, and when he looked back, she was gone.  In her place stood the man.

"You wanna try your luck, boy?" the man sneered, and his hand went to his pocket, leaving Todd knowing what was next.  And out it came.  The lighter.  It was silver, rectangular and seemed to have its own evil.  "Let's see how you fare today."

This time, the man started approaching him.  Of course, he could not move, his tree-trunk legs were idle, as they always would be.  His heart raced and met with a fever pitch that pounded in his chest painfully.

Back in his mind, he image of the man loomed closer.  The lighter was flicked open and the flame was high, light yellow with a piercing blue base.  The pounding of his heart was so fierce in his ears it was louder than any sound he had ever heard.  The man reached out and grabbed his arm to bring his hand up over the flame when he shrieked and woke up, breathing as if he were just avoiding drowning.

"There, there lad!"  Lilly had a slight panic in her voice.  "It's all right.  You're with us now, it's all right.  No more shaking."  She ran her hand over his head repeatedly, with a gentle firmness, to calm him.  "Start tryin' to breathe slower now.  Try."

Try as he might, he realized just then that he was in hyperventilation.  Lilly realized it too, and gave him an old sack to breathe into for a few moments.  "See?  It's all right.  You just gotta slow down, Son."

Later, Lilly told him what had happened.  She had come in the door to see his head moving back and forth a bit in his sleep.  He also was mumbling.  Thinking it might help them learn something about his identity, she sat by his bed quietly as not to interrupt.  And then, she had heard him mumbling various protests, and announcing "I won't cry" with certainty.  All this she had relayed to him before the most important part.  He also had said, "I won't cry, Dad."


Things being revealed little by little, one piece at a time, and memories flooding back in droves, alternating with bits and slices and flashes.  But if his mind continued to move back to Ireland, wasn't there something there that he needed to know, or to remember, or to experience, to make him whole today? 


Just then, he realized the emotion and power behind what he had just remembered had left him overwhelmed.  TV would do the trick; the mindless, empty chatter of talk-show hosts, the sounds of supposed stars dancing in competition, and the occasional interesting prime-time drama.  Clicking the mute button again, the sound came back, and he surfed.  He stopped when he saw Dorian and David Vickers on the screen. "Vickers," he said, laughing a little to himself. "Dorian, you're looking elegant." Sarcasm.


What transposed following this was hard for him to track when he thought back on it later. Various Llanview biggies and smallies came across the red carpet for the premier. It was when he saw the Impostor that he began to take some interest. "Delgado, what happened to that big brain of yours?" He said aloud. She always was a thinker.


Then came Blair, stunning in white, Jack, Starr, and ... Tomas Delgado, who was pawing his daughter like there was no tomorrow.  He felt a surge of rage come in his chest and pushed it down, continuing to watch.  "Get your hands off my daughter."