Chapter 13: A Gist Into The Past

“It’s been in my possession for as long as I can remember,” he answered, “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“It certainly is,” she murmured. Stone had to inch a bit closer to catch her words.

He moved to stand beside her and peered at the painting. He stole a glance at his aunt, who stared at the painting with such intensity and smiled to himself.

She must be finding the beauty and mystery behind this painting fascinating He thought to himself.

“Did Elijah – I mean, did your father hand over this painting to you?”

“He did.” was his reply.

His eyes were still captivated by the rich beauty of the painting. “This painting is the only masterpiece out of dad’s numerous collections.”

His 6’2 frame spun around to face the 5’7 frame of his aunt when he got no response from her. He followed her gaze, crossed his arms behind his back and smiled. “Don’t you agree with me, Aunt Una?”

“Iristhel,” she uttered softly, her words floated alongside the tiny particles in the air.

“What? What is it you mentioned?” he asked, confusion coated his words.

“Iris--Iristhel,” she said instead. Her earnest brown eyes glistened with unshed tears as they met his bright green ones. She raised her hand and pointed at the painting with her index finger.

Unsure of how to respond, he followed the actions of her hand and his eyes settled on the painting once again. His eyebrows drew together as his gaze flittered over the painting. He felt a twinge of anger and hurt settle on his chest. He felt these emotions for two reasons: the first one being that the painting he had admired and cherished for so long was a painting of his undeserving mother, and the second reason was that he was mad at his father for gifting him this painting in the first place.

“It’s Iris, my sister. It is your mother.” Aunt Una voiced. Her voice sounded muffled.

He clenched his jaw. Fury roared through his mind but he kept it in check.

He averted his gaze from the painting on his wall and turned to look at her. He noticed that though her hands were covering her mouth, she was on the verge of shedding tears. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

He stepped away from her and walked over to his bedpost. Glaring at his pillows, he clenched and unclenched his fists. He was bathing in anger yet, he tried his best to subdue the feeling. He screamed on top of his lungs and that got his aunt’s attention, then he pulled the thick woollen blanket off his bed. His fury sprang to life.

Aunt Una brought her hand downs from her lips as she laid her eyes on the fallen blanket beside the laundry basket on the image-patterned marbled floor.

“Livingstone.”

“Don’t you come closer to me,” he warned, raising a finger at her when she started making her way to his side.

His chest kept heaving up and deflating.

“What is wrong with you?” she demanded, tears no longer shimmered in her eyes. “I just told you who the woman in the painting is, and instead of looking pleased, you are…you’re like this - fuming like a mad bull.”

“I don’t care who the woman in the painting is and most especially, I hope she’s dead,” he fumed.

Before both of them could register what happened next, a sound resonated in the room. Aunt Una pulled her hand back and stared at it as if she was laying her eyes on it for the first time. She couldn’t believe it--she had never imagined this day. She raised her eyes to see the palm marks she had imprinted on the right side of her nephew’s face and covered her mouth to prevent a gasp from escaping through her lips. Her hands itched to touch the right side of his face and soothe the pain but she stopped herself.

“Why did you make me do it?” her voice came out soft. “Why did you have to say such hurtful words about my sister? Why, Livingstone?”

“I hope you are satisfied now.”

He stepped away from her and walked toward the door. Fighting back her tears, she sighed then spoke. “It was twelve years ago… twelve years since your accident occurred, and it was in that same year that your mother disappeared without a trace.”

He halted in his tracks and his jaws twitched.

He trained his eyes on the door and felt a sudden urge to leave all the suffocating tension behind alongside his aunt’s presence yet, something compelled him to stay rooted to his spot. He blamed it on his eagerness to hear whatever she had to say. She walked to his side with low steps, faced him with glistened eyes and took his left hand in hers. She was a bit surprised when he let her hold his hand. He still possessed his mother’s heart--she knew it. The soft-hearted little boy that grew up before her eyes was still living him.

“You weren’t supposed to survive the accident, Livingstone…but you did. It was a miracle and God was your saviour. The authorities found your body in an uncompleted construction site after you went missing for a day. Till date, nobody knows why or how come you ended up there at such a young age. All of this took place when you were just six years old, and my little Novera was just twelve.” She let go of his hand and turned to face the painting, draping her arms around her.

He turned to look in her direction.

“The only conclusion we were given by the authorities was that you stumbled upon the site, manoeuvered your way into the site; tripped accidentally and fell of off the ongoing four-storey building site project. The next action we took after you were found was to rush you to one of the best medical institutes in the districts, and that was how we met Dr. Zhang Suzuki for the first time. He and his team took charge of your diagnosis, surgery and rehabilitation,” she paused, looked heavenward and glanced at the ceiling.

“What happened next?” Stone murmured.

“According to Dr. Zhang’s report, your spinal cord was fractured and that led to your body’s inability to regulate your blood pressure effectively. Your system lost control of its body temperature, and your body was unable to sweat below the level of injury and chronic pain. Eventually, you slipped into a coma. You were in the state of paralysis for almost a year after several operations. We couldn’t help but lose hope. Then, all of a sudden, our prayers were a miracle happened and our prayers were answered. Your eyes fluttered open, but guess what?” she said, turning around to face him as she stared into his eyes.

“What?” he mouthed.

“You called out to your mom, Livingstone. She was the first person you called out to when you woke up. Though you didn’t remember her name or what she looked like due to your memory loss, you kept uttering the word ‘mom’. Those were the words that kept leaving your mouth the entire time. Unfortunately, we couldn’t bring your mom to you because…she disappeared right after your accident. It was like she vanished from the surface of the earth.”

She stepped away from him and hugged herself.

“Elijah’s love for Iristhel was blinded by his anger after her disappearance. He felt betrayed by her in a time when he needed her the most. He began to fill your young mind head with absurd ideas about her. He wanted you to feel what he felt. Pain. Before, I had any idea of what was going on; it was already too late. Elijah had found a way to infiltrate your mind and heart with the wrong ideas about your mother.”

“If those ideas my father fed me were never true--then, where is she?”

“I-I don’t know…but one thing I do know is that Iristhel would never abandon you and your father just like that.”

“I guess my father was right then. People do change and my mother did.”

“Don’t allow yourself to think like your father, Livingstone.”

“And why not? Because you’re right and he’s wrong?” he averted his gaze to look at her. His eyes landed on her loose ponytail since her back faced him. “Answer me, aunt. Is it because you’re right and he’s wrong?”

He still got no response from her. A small indentation appeared between his eyebrows when he saw her touch the side of her head with her hand. She swayed in her steps as she tried to walk toward his bed.

“Aunt!” he rushed to her side and stabled her with his hand as he guided her to his bed. Upon contact, he realized that she was heating up. She laid her head on his chest as they both down on his bed.

“You’re heating Aunt.” was all he said when he touched her forehead. “I think I need to inform dad about this.”

“No,” her voice faltered. She looked sapped. “Elijah doesn’t need to know about this. I’m fine. I just need to take my medications and get some rest.”

“This is related to your illness, right? I think that it’s about time you come clean about it to everyone, including dad.”

“What is it that your Aunt isn’t telling everyone?” Elijah chimed in.

Dread grew inside Aunt Una like a tumour. Elijah stood by the open door with his arms crossed against his chest as he trained his eyes on them. The tone that coated his voice sliced through Livingstone’s carefully chosen words. Livingstone shared a look with his aunt and pushed down the lump that was forming in his throat. Her eyes were pleading with him as they peered into his. He clamped his lips together and averted his gaze to catch his dad watching them with a quirked eyebrow.

This doesn’t look so good He muttered under his breath.