Ch 33 - A Cruel Reality

Our mission in the Everglades was over, at last.

We had not achieved any fame or honor to our name, but

we had succeeded in preserving an endangered

population and it would now be in good hands. Of

course, the same thing could have happened without the

tragedy that accompanied it, but at that point...I'm afraid

that was an inevitable result of searching for cryptids —

we eventually found them, and like the wild animals that

they are, they don't bow to humanity. Sitting in my seat

at the window of a plane, I was now recapping what had

recently happened to us. Every phrase, every expression,

and every mystery...everything needed to be recalled in

minute detail so that I could put it down on paper as soon

as Lucy gave permission. I had to hurry, though; this

flight would not be long like others we had flown. It

would just take us home, where we would be waiting for

the next expedition. Home. My home was Lane's

laboratory, and only now was it coming to my mind what

had happened to it. Someone had stolen Dave Young's

truck and driven it into the walls, destroying everything

in its path. The thought alone made me blush in a

mixture of anger and pain, both contained and never

expressed, at least not in a place where crying might

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upset others. What was waiting for me in New Haven?

What would be left of my room? While the ground

several miles below our aircraft seemed to be covered

with houses and industries, my future was covered with

uncertainty and darkness. Certainly, I would have a

house again, but...would I have a home?

Sitting next to me at the window, Lucy seemed to

have no worries, neither past nor future; she was just

living in the moment. Smiling as she received some

coconut popcorn, her expression was nothing like that of

someone who less than 48 hours before had solved a

crime and faced a murderer. Behind me, Keene sat alone

and maintained a posture of perfect peace with the fact.

With his eyes closed, only his lips curved into a slightly

uneasy smile, like that of a cat, happy to be alone. In

front of me, Frost sat with a gentleman somewhat

younger than himself, 50 years old, I would say, with

quite short hair and accelerated speech. The dialogue

developed animatedly, as Frost recklessly described our

adventures, occasionally enlarging the part he had played

in solving the case. For his part, the man listed admirable

exploits of his own, and of course, they were admirable

only to himself.

Connecticut was near now, and it is always at

these moments that the pain of memories and the end of

the trip accumulate in a crushing weight over me.

Exhausted from all the thinking, I fell asleep. When I

awoke again, Lucy poked me in the ribs, first lightly and

then harder.

— I'm. Awake, — I muttered with a pause to

complain of pain.

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— Great; we're already at the Tweed's and I ate

all my popcorn. Let's find a good coffee shop at the

airport.

When I opened my eyes, I didn't see our fellow

passengers ahead of us, but I could still hear their voices,

along with those of other passengers exiting the plane. I

straightened my spine and turned around to make sure

that we were alone. Of course not. Jacob Keene raised

his left eyebrow at my disappointed look. Without saying

a word, I stood up and we both left our seats; Keene

following us closely, with light strides, as if he were

about to jump on a prey.

Getting off at New Haven felt like landing on a

distant planet, on an uninhabited and unknown place.

The feeling was that we had left decades ago and never

returned, even though only four months had passed in

these travels. Perhaps, a city is familiar to those who

identify it as their home. I could not possibly do so.

When I finished that thought, I looked around me. I was

still at the stairs top, blocking Keene's way. I wondered

why he hadn't complained yet, but noticed that his eyes

were still staring. A few meters ahead, heading towards

the airport, Frost and his traveling companion were

carrying on the same intense conversation as before,

gesticulating and talking loudly. Then I heard a

contemptuous grunt behind me and hurried down the

steps before the next one was my fault.

— Do you know that man? — I asked Keene

when he caught up with me.

— Another of Frederick's snobby friends,

probably.

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— The chances would be slim that the two would

meet on the plane.

— Not on that flight. Frost booked it.

— Oh, really? It's good to see that you let him do

it. He feels so useful. — But Keene didn't answer,

merely smiling cynically.

I still couldn't understand the reason, but I

wondered why he had acted this way. Before I could

develop my train of thought, my arm was pulled tightly

toward the airport. Lucy grabbed my sleeve, forcibly

leading me to the nearest coffee shop. Shielded from the

heat, Frost hid under the marquee, chatting with the

stranger. Noticing our movement, the dean turned to the

airport entrance where we were standing and called out

to us:

— We're coming, Lucy!

Behind us, Keene kept a slow pace, always

following us. When we reached the cafeteria, Lucy and I

sat at the head of the table, knowing that soon it would

be full. As expected, before our order had even been

taken, Keene was already at the door, looking

disdainfully at the establishment; right behind him, Frost

arrived breathlessly, closely followed by the stranger.

— Kids, I would like you to meet Mr. Andri

Bergeron, my traveling companion since the Everglades,

— said Frost, completely ignoring Keene's presence.

The figure in front of us was slim, vaguely

dressed in a shirt with sleeves that reached beyond the

wrist, reinforced jeans, and a heavy felt jacket that gave

him twice the body diameter. His face had very fine

features, with his lips and nose being practically lines

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drawn across his face, and his eyes a thin light that

opened to the world.

— Nice to meet you, — he said in an accelerated

tone. Lucy and I merely nodded, which was more than

Keene tried to do.

— Do have a seat, — he went on to say, now to

his guest of honor. — You were saying that you intend to

go to Canada?

— That's right. I plan to go to the Yukon in the

next few weeks.

— You know, — Frost turned to us to generate

more impact, — Mr. Bergeron's reason for returning to

his homeland might be very interesting to our team, isn't

it?

— Indeed, — the man replied in a split second.

— My family lives on the outskirts of a mine, where we

raise caribou. Something strange has been happening

more recently, something we only heard about in stories,

but now it has come to us.

— Isn't this exciting? — Frost asked us,

wriggling in his chair like a child.

— Oh, yes, — Keene sneered, — a mystery;

something we've never seen before...

— Please, Jacob! — scolded Frederick, — Have

more respect for my guest! Please, continue.

— As I was saying, — continued the Canadian,

— This story has been repeated from generation to

generation for decades, but what could have been

concrete evidence, such as carcasses and other remains,

are always considered the work of another animal.

— But this is of extreme importance for our

catalog! — the dean said enthusiastically. — Say, how

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would you like to be taken into our care and leave with

us?

A knock on the table shook the silver and

crockery utensils. — What the hell? — Jacob Keene

hissed, his hands still flat on the table.

— Any problem, Doctor? — Frost challenged

him.

— Have we reached the point where you make

the decisions around here?

— Well, since I'm the one paying the fares, I

figured it wouldn't hurt to have some say in the

management of this team.

— Anthony was right. You have the rare ability

to be pathetic and authoritarian at the same time.

— What are you talking about? Anthony Lane

was loyal to me!

— Loyal to the man who threatened to destroy

his dream if he didn't bring back one more bone? I don't

think so, my dear. — Beside me, I felt Lucy's breathing

become faster and noticed that her face was blushing, but

she remained silent.

— Anthony had an old-fashioned vision,

incapable of realizing that taking a simple technological

object would be enough to solve our issues, — said

Frost. Unfortunately, when he allowed himself to be

convinced, and believe me, Lucy, I am very sorry to say

this, it was also his last chance.

— Well, feel free to give orders to whomever you

want, but not to me, — Keene concluded, getting up. —

Oh, and Lucy? As far as I know, your father left you in

charge, not this pathetic excuse of human being. When

you decide on our next step, you know where to find me.

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Lucy just nodded, giving the biomedical doctor

the confirmation he needed to leave the place noisily.

— Please excuse me, — the dean said to

Bergeron. — I'm afraid Jacob has some dissociative

issues with higher authorities, but going back to the

invitation, would you be so kind as to go with us?

— It would be an honor, — he replied at the

same pace.

Lucy and I looked at each other quietly, trying to

understand what had happened before us. It seemed too

banal why Keene had become so angry, but for the

moment, nothing else was apparent.

For the first time, Lucy seemed to have no

appetite when the strawberry mille-feuille was served.

Something in that discussion had tormented her deeply,

but it was neither the time nor the place to ask. Feeling

somewhat guilty that I was eating my own, I let my fork

fall onto the table. I waited until a gap appeared in the

elders' conversation and said:

— Mr. Frost, we would like to go to the campus

before you reopen it. We want to see the place...in

private.

— Why, of course...I can understand your

feelings, — he replied, becoming another in a long list of

people who repeated this phrase without even thinking

about its implications. Paka Norwayan had said the same

thing in the Ambungi archipelago, Frost was repeating it

now, and all my life people used it to feign empathy for

the fact that I didn't have a father.

Ignoring the questions his statement raised, we

simply walked away, heading for the door Keene had

passed through a few minutes before. Heading for the

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airport exit, we proceeded in silence to the boulevard,

where we would try to catch a cab at rush hour. Brilliant

idea, of course. Crowded as it was, the city was an

anthill, full of movement, full of selfish and ignorant

minds — a perfect scale model of what the world as a

whole looked like. Giving up on the cab, we started

walking to the University, which would at least

guarantee isolation from attentive ears that might pick up

our conversation.

— Thanks for getting me out of there, — she said

with a long sigh, as if a weight had left her heart.

— The mille-feuille was proof enough that you

weren't well.

— Kevin, don't ruin the moment, just accept the

thanks.

— Now, I don't...well, you're right. But what

happened, anyway?

— Keene.

— What about the doctor?

— You've known him since you got here, haven't

you?

— Yes. He was already the official assistant,

replacing Mr. Frost.

— So tell me, what was his personality like?

— Apathetic, cold, haughty.

— Violent?

— No, never. He always acted like a cat who

looks down on everything and everyone, but is not

capable of attacking fiercely.

— It doesn't match what we saw today, does it?

— Not much, but Frost has done enough to

irritate him, I believe.

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— Do you remember...when he started to become

violent?

— More recently, I would say. In the Everglades,

maybe?

— That's right. When we walked into the

Bosemans' kitchen, his eyes were flashing with anger,

the like of which had never been seen before.

— Well, you are the psychologist; what is the

diagnosis?

— The cause is pretty clear — his family. Jacob

was always suppressed and always hated money, exactly

what his family valued most. When dealing with greed

on a regular basis, it is easy to turn to beings incapable

of developing it.

— Animals?

— Precisely. We both know how easy it is to

come to love other species more than our own. That is

why you became a paleoartist — for the love of nature,

not people. I tried to force love by learning about how

their minds work, and look what I got. I only discovered

even more terrible things about humanity. Jacob is not so

different from you and me. His kind let him down, so he

became attached to other types of creatures.

Unfortunately, Jacob learned to be violent to defend his

love.

— Verbally, you mean? He has only expressed

his thoughts so far. With fury, it's true, but only in words.

— Lucy sighed again, saying next:

— Someday, I will tell you everything. — Before

I could question her again, she hurried her pace, drawing

my attention to the series of huge buildings in front of

us.

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— Look, we have arrived at the University! —

she exclaimed.

The gates remained open, even during the

vacation period; Nathan Allard had been assigned with

ensuring that nothing happened to the institution while

Frost was away. The huge wooden and glass doors, with

gothic arches framing the windows, were also always

unlocked and opened with a weak push from Lucy. Once

inside the central building, the air became cool and the

sounds of our footsteps echoed due to the emptiness that

occupied the place. Usually, the sheer amount of people

would absorb the sound, but everyone that could be there

was in the library now. Behind the building we were in

would be Lane's laboratory, if it was still standing. A

long corridor stretched out before us, leading directly to

the sight I dreaded witnessing.

The doors at the end of the hallway were the

same as the ones at the entrance, to the point of having

the same pattern in the frames — a glass arch that

allowed us to see across a huge expanse of grass and a

concrete wall in the distance. My stomach churned as I

realized that I had never seen the campus lawn through

those arches. There was always something blocking the

view; there was...the lab. Now I was breathing deeply,

preparing myself for what I never thought would hit me

— an emotional shock. Lucy must have noticed the

paleness of my face, because she held my hand and

began to slowly guide me to the double door. To the left

and right, corridors of rooms passed me by, as if running

away from what was after the door; in my nose, a strong

smell of the mahogany that lined every entrance,

staircase or plinth of the building, even forming the

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doors of every wing. Being Keene's favorite, the

universal presence of the wood reminded me of the

power he had over the decisions made there. When we

finally reached the exit doors, I felt my hands sweat as

they touched the mahogany of the door. With a single

move, I pushed it fully open, revealing all at once what

had happened there. A few meters away from us lay the

bare space of rock and metal — the foundation of the

laboratory, exposed by those who had removed its

destroyed walls. In the garden, a mark of devastation left

by tires cut across its entire width, crushing petunias,

four-o'clocks and hydrangeas in its path, leaving behind

only a trail of dead plant matter. On the rock surface,

shadows left by the laboratory partitions marked the spot

where my room had existed, a small partition of 9 square

meters in area. Walking over the rocks to that point, I

remembered my bed, my paintings, my home...and I felt

weak. Lucy caught me before I fell to the ground, crying.

Between my own wails of pain, I heard her say:

— Let's go find Dave Young.