Todd Revisited: Doubletake (Chapter 21)

He was not sure he had ever had a more mind-boggling day, at least not one he could remember without severe head-pain.  John McBain, announcing to everyone that both of them had DNA that matched Marty's rape kit.  He remembered the feeling of being utterly stunned and insecure at the same time.  All of them, in the same room, at the same time.  He could have reached out and touched any of them; Starr, with her golden, long hair much like she had when he'd left her; Jack, with his adolescent angst and staunch support of The Impostor; Dani, her beautiful face full of doubt; Blair who, he knew, believed but couldn't let herself.  He'd examined, as he sat in the passenger seat of Vicki's Lexus, the reasons Blair would try to not believe him.  


Knowing her, as he did, she'd be trying to convince herself out of believing he was Todd than into the idea.  First, she would not want to, simply for the reason that if she believed he was real, and he wasn't in the end, she would lose him again.  Knowing her, she wouldn't be able to cope with that thought, never mind the event itself.  Next, if he were Todd, she would have to accept that her last 8 years were a total lie; that she invested in something unreal and subjected her children to it and to him.  And last, she would think how wrong she was for not saving him, not searching for him, and accepting he was back, instead of rescuing him from the torture he endured.  With all the guilt and the way she pushed down her own instincts at times, she would be suffering.  He was trying, with all he had, not to be angry with her for the whole thing and put his suffering ahead of that fact.  After all, she had accused the guy of being someone called Walker, in front of everyone, and if it weren't for the DNA results, she would have shot him in the back a couple of times, or at the very least, throttled him.  


In her confusion, she had also "tattled" that he and Marty . . . he stopped.  Water stung his eyes with the repeat realization that no one, not ONE PERSON, thought it strange that "Todd Manning" would make love to Marty Saybrooke, and take advantage of a person who does not have her memory.  And, the history that they had with each other, he himself and Marty; what it must have done to her to later discover the lie, finally recovering the memory that all the while he was really who he said he was - her rapist.


Finally, the car rounded a familiar turn.  He knew he was approaching Vicki's home.  Why she had taken him in, he still was not certain, but he was thankful that she had.  In reality, he had nowhere to belong.  


He had been fortunate in the past, as well, the rely on the kindness of strangers, and it had saved his life once.  "Back when we were with Lilly and Aman," Tom said, excitedly.    


"Quiet down, buddy, not now.  I can't do this, not right this minute.  I need some time.  Can you back off?"


"Sure Todd.  See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya."


He repeated the words aloud.  "See ya, wouldn't wanna be ya."


"What's that?"  Vicki asked, turning slightly toward him, then back, as not to lose sight of the road.  Such a perfectionist.  He loved her so much.


"Nothing, just having a conversation with myself,"  and he wasn't lying.  


"Ah, yes, nothing new.  I mean, we all do that sometimes."


And they were there. 


Inside Llanfair, things seemed so familiar he almost felt sick from emotion; he put together the fact of his exhaustion, dehydration and hunger, and watched her flit about the room.  


"Thank you."  He found his voice.


"For what?"


"Well, you must be kind of tired of having Llanfair being used as a refugee camp."


She laughed, nervously.  "I enjoy sharing my home.  But then you would know that, wouldn't you?"


He watched her walk to the desk, holding a thick, old volume of a book.  "What if I don't really know who I am?  What if I am some kind of crazy stranger?"


"No you're not crazy," she said.  "and you're most definitely not a stranger."  Her eyes smiled when she said it.  She had opened the book and was leafing through it.


"Then how can there be two of me?"


"I....I don't know.  And the only person qualified to answer that question is the woman who gave birth to Todd Manning."


He looked at a photo in the book.  "Irene Manning."


"Yeah.  She was my college roommate for 4 years.  And she was my very, very best friend.  Unfortunately, she has been dead for at least 30 years.  He looked back at the photo.  There were two smiling young women, in black and white, on the page.  He wondered if the truth would ever come out.  To avoid going to deeply into his head again, he stood and waited to hear what else his sister had to say.