Steve Cash - The Remembering

I never saw the face of Caine’s father, Jisil al-Sadi. He was already dead and facedown in the sand when I found him. But judging from Caine’s face, Jisil must have been an extraordinarily handsome desert warlord. Caine stood in the doorway holding two large suitcases in his hands, another under his right arm, and a smaller one under his left. He smiled when he saw me and took a quick step forward, tripping and tumbling into the kitchen along with all the suitcases. He fell into me, knocking me back into Antoinette, and the three of us rolled together under the kitchen table in a heap of arms and legs.

I ended up on top of Antoinette with Caine sprawled across my feet. He raised his head a few inches and looked at me. “Sorry, Z. I suppose I tripped.”

I laughed and said, “I suppose you did.” Underneath me, Antoinette groaned and tried to wriggle free. I turned over and as I backed out from under the table, I saw Caine and Antoinette exchange a glance. It only lasted a moment, but it was an electric spark. No one else saw it. I smiled to myself because even though there was no way to know where it would end, there was no doubt something had begun.

The winter of 1946 passed quickly. In February, Mitch and Mercy purchased a house near the corner of Olive and Boyle. Carolina insisted on helping them furnish it, and a big house-warming party was held the next week.

Star and Willie had planned on staying at Carolina’s a month or two, but decided in March to leave it open-ended. Willie said there was nothing to worry about concerning Caitlin’s Ruby. Koldo and Arrosa ran the farm well and were completely accepted by the locals, which was not always the case in Cornwall, as Caitlin Fadle herself discovered four hundred years earlier. Star said Arrosa and Koldo now had twin boys, born during the war and named Kepa and Yaldi, after Koldo’s grandfather and my papa. I felt honored and realized he still believed in the unique and ancient bond between our families. I promised myself I would visit our homeland in the Pyrenees, and I would do it with Koldo as my guide.

Caine had intended on returning to England in a few weeks, but to no one’s surprise, by April he had changed his mind. He applied to Washington University as a professor in linguistics and by May he had been hired for the fall semester. It was not a shock he was accepted so rapidly. Caine possessed an advanced degree from Cambridge and his work in deciphering early Aegean languages and scripts was well known in academic circles. In a way, Caine and I shared the same “ability.”

Carolina still had her box seats at Sportsman’s Park and the two of us saw the majority of the Cardinals’ home games. A young player named Stan Musial impressed me all season with his natural baseball instincts, and he was a terrific hitter. He batted.365 with 228 hits and was picked Most Valuable Player of the year in the National League. The Cardinals won the pennant and played the Boston Red Sox in the World Series. On October 13, just after the Cardinals had won game six, Carolina and I returned home to find Jack and another man sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. It was an unannounced and unexpected visit, and Carolina scolded him for it, then gave him a long, warm embrace. Jack winked at me and said, “Cards won — I know — we were listening.”

I turned to look at the other man and he smiled at me. He was about sixty years old with a shock of white hair and a very distinctive face that I recognized immediately. For a moment I thought Sak had come back to life and aged twenty years. But it wasn’t Sak, it was his oldest brother, Dr. Bikki Hiramura — Cardinal.

“I am Zianno Zezen.”

“Yes,” the man replied. “I have known your name for decades.” He extended his arm and we shook hands. “It is a pleasure to finally meet.”

“Should I call you Doctor or Bikki?”

He laughed. “Bikki, please. And you, do you prefer Zianno or Z?”

“Call me Z.” I let a moment or two pass. He had dark brown eyes, just like Sak. “Your brother was a fine man … a brave man … and an excellent potter.”

“Thank you. Those are kind words. We had different destinies, but our beginnings were the same. I regret never having known him as a man.”

Just then a thought occurred to me. He had known about me for decades. We could have met many times, anytime he wished, but we did not. This visit was no coincidence. Quietly I said, “You have come to tell me something. Should I hear it now or later?”

Bikki dropped his smile and glanced at Carolina and the others. “Later,” he said.

Over dinner, Carolina reminisced about the World’s Fair of 1904, the last time she had seen Bikki Hiramura or any of the Ainu that Solomon had befriended before the Fair. After dinner and helping Antoinette clear the table, Bikki, Jack, and I walked outside to the “Honeycircle” and began our talk. Bikki stood next to Baju’s sundial facing me. “First,” he said, “I must ask if you have noticed anyone following you, anyone at all, man or woman?”

I didn’t have to think about it. The Meq are instinctively cognizant of all Giza and their attention to us. It is a part of our basic nature and necessary for survival. “No,” I answered.

“Good. That is good. I feared they might find you before you were aware of it.”

“They? Who are ‘they’?”

Jack answered my question. “We aren’t sure, Z. We only know there is a new unit attached to the Army and they are running a covert program that might have something to do with the Meq.”

“What sort of ‘program’?”

Bikki looked once at Jack, then turned back to me. “It is still a mystery,” he said. “I am working on it. There is someone I suspect is involved—”

Jack interrupted. “We think Blaine Harrington may be in on it.”

“Nevertheless,” Bikki continued, “I would recommend you pass this information on to the others, wherever they may be, until we get to the truth.”

“Easier said than done, Bikki.”

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind,” I said. “I will keep an eye out for anything suspicious and report it to Jack immediately. And I … we … appreciate your vigilance on our behalf. Solomon would be quite proud of his investment .”

Cardinal looked up at the night sky wheeling above the “Honeycircle” and laughed. I remembered Sak laughing the same way in the trough of a twenty-foot wave in the middle of the Bering Sea.

Jack and Bikki stayed long enough to see the Cardinals beat the Red Sox in game seven and win the World Series. In Carolina’s kitchen, at Antoinette’s request, we celebrated with champagne and hot dogs. The next day Jack kissed Carolina on the cheek and was in the middle of promising to come home for Christmas when she put a finger to his lips and said, “No promises, Jack. Just make it back if you can.”

I took Bikki’s warning to heart for the next two months. On every walk, especially in Forest Park, I used my hyper-hearing and kept my other senses at full alert. Nothing happened and I saw no one following me. Jack never made it back for Christmas, but he sent chocolates to Carolina from Switzerland. By that time I had relaxed my guard somewhat and by the spring of 1947, I rarely thought about it. What I did think about constantly was Opari. I longed for her presence, her voice … her touch. It didn’t help to watch Caine and Antoinette falling deeper and deeper in love, although I couldn’t have been happier for them. Still, every time I saw Caine whispering something to Antoinette and making her smile, I wanted to do the same to Opari.

Later that year, Willie Croft rediscovered his love of flying and bought a single-engine Cessna 170, which he kept at Lambert Field. Not long afterward, he sold the Cessna and bought a rare de Havilland twin-engine Mosquito, a British aircraft that had become famous during WWII for its versatility. The plane was light and fast, and Willie and Star would often fly to air races throughout the Midwest. Willie was an excellent pilot and always looked forward to flying, but in the spring of 1949 he had to fly for a purpose other than pleasure. Carolina received word that Ciela had passed away at Finca Maria due to complications from diabetes. Carolina was heartbroken at the news and wanted to be there for the funeral. Willie said he would charter a plane and take her to Cuba himself. I remained in St. Louis with Antoinette, but Carolina, Star, Caine, and Willie took off from Lambert Field the next day, circling once, then disappearing over the southeastern horizon.