Tom Dolby - The Trust

“We have no idea, though, if he was in his right mind.”

“Let’s think about this,” Phoebe said. “The one thing we’ve noticed is that the Pollock is missing. We don’t know if your grandfather moved it, but it’s all we’ve got to go on. So can we assume that this search has something to do with art?”

Nick furrowed his brow. “Maybe.” He stood up and looked at the space above the fireplace where the Pollock had been. He examined the panel, slightly darker, where the painting had been hung. Nothing appeared unusual or out of place. He pushed the panel, to see if anything would happen. Nothing.

Then Nick noticed something strange as his eyes ran over the photographs sitting on the mantel: while there had always been family photographs below the painting, they had now been switched out for specific ones. Every single picture of the Bell family was taken down in Palm Beach, where his grandfather lived during most of the year.

“I feel so stupid,” Nick said, looking at the photographs.

“Why?”

“Remember, he said ‘both beaches.’”

“Yeah, so what does that mean?”

“We’re at the wrong beach.”

It was a snap decision, but he and Phoebe knew that it was the right one. They had to find out what Palmer’s babblings were about. Nick wanted to include the entire group of five, as he felt everyone should be involved. Besides, Palm Beach would be a welcome break from the chilly New York January, as well as from all the Society madness. Making good on his request for them to keep their Saturday clear, Nick called everyone early that morning and told them to meet Phoebe and him at La Guardia Airport for a shuttle flight down to Florida. As far as getting permission, half the group had parents who didn’t care, and the other half would say they were staying over at each other’s houses. Half an hour after Nick invited him, Patch called back: he wanted to bring Lia, as they had made tentative plans and Patch didn’t want to cancel. Nick hadn’t met Lia, but at school the previous day Patch had been going on and on about her to Lauren and Phoebe and him. Nick knew that she worked part-time in a record store in the East Village and went to Stuyvesant High School, but most importantly, Patch was really excited about her. Nick supposed he should have been worried about the secrecy of their mission, but part of him was exhausted from all the hiding. If Lia lived downtown and she wasn’t in the Society, it wouldn’t matter if she knew what was going on. After all, who would she tell?

Before booking six tickets on an inexpensive flight, Nick placed a call to Horatio, his grandfather’s caretaker and butler, who watched over the Palm Beach property and made sure everything was in top condition.

“I’ll need to check with your grandfather, of course,” Horatio had said. “I believe I can reach him at the hospital.”

Horatio called Nick back in ten minutes and announced that his grandfather had said that whatever Nick wanted to do was fine. “I was quite surprised, actually, if you don’t mind my being frank. Mr. Bell said, ‘Whatever my grandson wants, you give him.’ We haven’t had this many houseguests since, well, since…”

“I know,” Nick said. “Since my grandmother died.”

“You will all stay in the east wing. I’ll make sure that the bedrooms are ready. Three rooms, you said?”

“That should be fine.” Nick figured that he and Phoebe could sleep together, Patch and Lia could share a room, and Lauren and Thad could share another. “Horatio, can you do me a favor?” Nick asked.

“Certainly.”

“If my father happens to call, please don’t mention this visit to him.”

Florida!” Lia said. “Are you crazy?”

She and Patch were already in a cab going across town, in the direction of the Midtown Tunnel. Patch had simply told her that he had a surprise, and that she should pack a change of clothing. It was only their second official date, so it was more than a bit unexpected, but Patch appreciated that Lia understood the value of spontaneity. The trip was like a present that had been dropped in their laps, the chance to escape from Manhattan.

“I thought maybe we were going to, I don’t know, the Hamptons or something,” she said. “But Palm Beach? What are we, like, eighty years old? Will it be warm there? I thought it would be freezing where we were going!”

“It’s really nice there,” Patch said as they entered the Midtown Tunnel. “Nick’s grandfather has a pool and everything. It has these stone dolphins that shoot water. It’s kind of fun, in that old rich person sort of way, you know?”

“Well, I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” Lia said. “What are you going to do about that?” She frowned, pushing her black bangs away from her forehead.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Lauren packed five. Besides, it’s casual. The girls will lend you some clothes.”

She shrugged hesitantly. “Okay, so, what, is this like some kind of preppy ritual or something? Heading south in the winter?”

“Oh, come on,” Patch said. “I’m not that preppy.” He gave her a playful poke in the stomach.

“Whatever, preppy boy. You’re right out of a Brooks Brothers catalog.”

“Hey, no fair!” It actually did surprise Patch-he had thought that with his new haircut and new body, he was shedding the preppy image he had grown up with. Apparently not. “I don’t actually feel like I’m that preppy,” he continued. “I’ve always felt sort of-well, sort of different.”

“How so?”

Patch wasn’t sure he should get into his family history. He glanced at the cabbie in the rearview mirror. It seemed like a strange place to be sharing such intimacies.

“I don’t really have the most traditional family structure,” he said. He explained about growing up with his grandmother, his father’s death, and his mother’s hospitalization.

Lia’s face softened as he told the story of his mother being put away. “And you still don’t know exactly why she was sent there?” she asked.

“She has borderline personality disorder, but it can be quite severe at times. She just doesn’t see the world the way that you or I do. Everything is a danger to her. I’ve never fully understood why she is the way she is.” He didn’t want to explain about seeing the Society’s ankh branded on the back of his mother’s neck last November, or about the picture of her that he had seen the previous night at the display of clippings about the last Dendur Ball. He didn’t want to talk about how he now was questioning her entire history, everything that had happened to her. It was part of what was making the Society thing so confusing, and what made it different for him from the others. The rest of them wanted to get out of the group, whereas Patch had an additional goal: to understand what his mother’s involvement with the group had been. He had tried talking to Genie about it over the past few weeks, but she wouldn’t tell him anything. He knew that the obvious thing would be to go visit his mother at the hospital in Ossining. He had mentioned this to Genie, but she had discouraged the idea. It was so painful for Patch to see his mother in that condition. He hated visiting her, and it was not likely that Esme would tell him anything. Her memories were so fragmented, like shards of glass.

He had a multitude of reasons for putting it off.

However he went about it, though, he knew that it would be his journey alone.

The cab pulled up at La Guardia, and Patch leaned forward to pay the driver.

Lia took a deep breath. “This should be interesting.”

“Relax,” Patch said. “You’ll like my friends.”

When they got to La Guardia, Phoebe, Lauren, and Thad were waiting by the ticket desk. “Nick is checking on a few things,” Phoebe said.