The nephilem, p.27
The Nephilem, page 27
As if reading Sarah’s mind, Kate said, “You know, I’d ask him to explain this away, but somehow, I get the impression he would button up.”
“These are adoption papers,” said Sarah. “Whatever Nathaniel was involved in, surely he can’t have done it himself. He would have only been a kid.”
“And he couldn’t tell you the whole truth?” asked Kate. “When men like that promise a confession and only tell you the half-truth, that means the whole truth will consist of some pretty shady shit.”
“Excuse me?”
Both Sarah and Kate whipped around, feeling a desire to keep their secret hidden. The librarian was stood at the bottom of the stairs. Even though she maintained a polite posture, at a careful glance, Sarah could tell that the woman was shaking slightly.
“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation” began the woman.
“And here I was thinking we were surrounded by thick walls,” said Kate.
“The adoption records...” And now the librarian was struggling to keep the shakes out of her voice. “...they were taken from here about a week ago.”
“Taken?” asked Sarah. “What do you mean, ‘taken?’”
“Someone wanted to know where they were, told me that it was a matter of life or death.”
“And you just gave them to him?” asked Sarah disbelievingly.
The librarian looked down at her shoes, being unable to face not just the two women, but the lapse in her judgment. “He didn’t seem like the kind of man one says ‘no’ to.”
“Do you have any idea where we might be able to find this man?” asked Sarah.
“I couldn’t say” stammered the librarian.
“Look” said Kate. “Why don’t you and I have a little girl-talk in private? See if we can get to the bottom of this?”
She wrapped her arm around the librarian and led her away. Sarah began to follow. “Shouldn’t I be listening in to this?”
“Yes, we could really do with you coming down on the poor girl like a ton of bricks.” Softening, Kate said, “Trust me, Sarah, I have a way with people.”
And Sarah was left to ponder what that way might look like as Kate and the librarian ascended the stairway.
She returned to the pile of papers on the desk, trying to restore order as best as she could.
As Sarah sat down, she felt a jolt in her stomach and her hand instantly went to her belly.
She wondered if this was where it started. She had heard that the pains always start off quite minimal before they progress with each month of pregnancy. She did not feel particularly enamoured at the idea of having this thing inside her eating away at her physically, taking away all of her strength and wreaking havoc on her body. She remembered as a child glimpsing the stretch marks on her mother who had apparently been quite the beauty before childbirth had taken its toll on her.
She knew that it was unfair, and it was not the fault of the child. It was not right that a child should be held accountable for the mistakes its parents made.
But Sarah wasn’t even sure of the child’s parents.
One reason she had been torn between the worlds of Solomon and Nathaniel would be because she had no idea who would be the father of her child. Solomon had already made his decision on the matter quite clear, and she imagined he would have a tough time changing his mind.
With Nathaniel, she had seen the way he had looked at her, a love that was unconditional, unbreakable, there was nothing superficial. Sarah didn’t doubt that he would care for their child no matter the circumstances. But what kind of life would their child have? To have the child would mean coming clean with Solomon. And she knew that he was not a man to be wronged. His word carried a lot of sway with Formentera, and he could easily paint her as a ruined woman.
When she felt for her stomach, she didn’t just feel a little life growing beneath her skin, she felt a ticking clock. If she planned to carry this pregnancy to term, it would only be so long before her belly started swelling and termination would not be an option.
She tried for what felt like the hundredth time to resolve the issue of the child’s paternity. She remembered making love to Nathaniel shortly after their eventful car journey. She should have used protection, but she was swept away in the emotion brought on by Nathaniel’s confession...
...and shortly before that, Solomon had come to her that one night, begging for companionship, but silently holding out for more, the way men do when they feel entitled to something and don’t want to have to ask. Sarah herself had had quite a lot to drink that night. They had melted away into each other’s arms.
There was a four-day difference, making it nigh-impossible for anyone short of a witch doctor being able to tell the difference. She had heard that there were tests that could be done to determine the baby’s paternity, but from what she had heard, they were quite intrusive procedures, and there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t damage the baby’s health.
Even discounting the medical risk, she would not be able to have that kind of check-up without alerting any of the locals. Chances are, someone down there would pass her details back to Solomon.
Like every other tragedy in Sarah’s life, she tried to tackle it with the same mindset; consider it a problem for another day.
She was snapped out of her dilemma by the sound of approaching footsteps as Kate and the librarian both descended the stairs together, Kate holding the librarian by the arm as though supporting her. The librarian looked as though she had gone a different shade of white.
“What did you do to her?” asked Sarah, half-joking.
“I told you,” said Kate simply. “I have a way with people. And now, we have a new destination, thanks to this lovely creature here.” She pressed her hand into the librarian’s shoulder, who visibly recoiled from the touch, but tried to keep the discomfort off her face with questionable success.
THEY CLEARED OUT OF the library quite quickly. Neither of them had bothered to take any of the doctored adoption papers, Kate having reasoned that there would be no use for any of them.
They piled back into the rented car and continued driving to their destination.
“She gave me an address for the person who likely has information on these adoption papers. With any luck, he should still be in the area and should be able to provide us with some answers.”
Sarah looked at Kate, who was driving the car with a steely command. “You seem very sure of yourself, you know that?”
“Well, we need that kind of certainty if we’re going to get anywhere.”
“Remind me again why we couldn’t just bribe that librarian?” asked Sarah.
“Thought you were trying to avoid leaving a paper trail,” said Kate. “Besides, judging by the look of her, I doubt she’d even know what a credit card looks like. The poor thing might as well have lived her life trapped in that attic. It was a calculated risk getting her to talk and point us in the right direction.”
“And what do we do if the source isn’t where she says he is?” asked Sarah, certain that there was a flaw in the plan she wasn’t seeing.
“I’ve thought about that” said Kate briskly.
“And?”
“And we’ll be back at square one. You, see? I’ve thought about it?” Kate took her eyes off the road just briefly to take in Sarah’s perplexed face. “You worry too much, Sarah. You always act as though your life is one disaster away from imploding. You need to take things as they come, let them wash over you.”
“When I’m in the mindset for poetry, I’ll pencil it in” quipped Sarah.
WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT the location, Sarah almost understood why the librarian had been reluctant to open up.
The buildings were in varying stages of decay, deplorables coming in and out. Sarah could see a group of people stood close together watching them. To them, the car must be some kind of rare jewel, thought Sarah. She tried to imagine that at night, the streets came alive with a vibrant carnage, people dancing in the moonlight basking in euphoria under cover of darkness. But in the daylight, that effect hadn’t carried over, the buildings on either side of the road looking like oversized slabs as the car drove past, as though they were entering a gargantuan graveyard. Sarah would never be caught dead in a place like this.
The car pulled up outside what looked like a tavern, given the similar features of all the buildings, it was hard to tell. “You sure we shouldn’t hide the car” asked Sarah, looking around at the people in the street who were eyeballing her. “I have a feeling that it won’t be here when we come back.”
“Why?” asked Kate. “You got any bushes for me to hide it behind?”
Kate watched a group of small children at least ten years old playing in the streets with a football. One of the boys kicked the boy, narrowly missing the car. “Sorry” he called out, expecting a reprieve.
But instead, Kate smiled. “Tell you what; how would you kids like to make a little extra pocket money?”
“What do you need?” asked the boy.
Kate pulled out a wad of notes, which prompted the attention of the other children to come running over. Neither of them had ever seen so much money in their life.
Kate took a note and passed one around to each of the children. “You can keep an eye on this car for at least an hour, there’ll be another helping at the end of it, you got it?”
The boys all nodded, eagerly accepting the money.
“Really, Kate?” asked Sarah. “Anyone would have thought you were a charity.”
“You were the one who was worked up about the car. Either we cough up a bit of dough to keep it safe, or we make it around Barcelona on foot. I’m guessing you have a preference?”
They walked into the tavern, looking around at the people inside. Sarah tried to keep her jewellery hidden in the event anyone tried to pounce on her. Kate rolled her eyes at the materialistic display. “For God’s sake, woman, don’t get so worked up over your jewellery.”
“Easy for you to say” retorted Sarah. “Last time I checked; you weren’t one lugging anything fashionable on your fingers.” She surveyed the crowd once again, who seemed to be keeping to themselves, not that this did much to alleviate Sarah’s anxiety. “I swear to you, one of these freaks is going to take my jewellery and then straight up kill me.”
“That’s impossible,” said Kate. “Very unlikely to happen.”
“Why?”
“Because this lot won’t waste any time struggling with you; they’ll just kill you, then take the jewellery.”
Sarah looked pointedly at Kate. “Tell me, Kate, at any point in your past life were you a motivational speaker?”
“I had my moments” admitted Kate.
“I take it you lovely ladies are waiting for me?”
The voice came in between them, and Sarah almost jumped out of her skin. Kate seemed non-plussed, taking in the figure who was standing before then in the doorway. There was nothing to indicate he had walked in through the doorway, or that he had gotten up and walked towards them through the crowd.
It was as if he had just materialised behind them.
“You know how to make an entrance” said Kate, who seemed completely unsurprised by the intrusion.
“It helps for a man to be able to slip in and out of the world whenever he feels like it” said the man, stepping back. Now Sarah could see he was wearing a long black trench coat. “I am the Stream.”
“Is that what your friends call you?” asked Sarah, unimpressed by the grandeur.
“Indeed, petit ocell,” said the Stream. “You might even get to call me that if you live long enough.” He turned to Kate and made a slight bow. “My apologies for the goose chase, bruixa. Wouldn’t have been my first choice, but when it comes to valuable information, there is very little stopping it from falling into the wrong hands.”
“Well, thank God you’re here to intervene,” said Sarah.
The Stream was now studying Sarah, as though only just seeing her for the first time. “You know... I find myself struggling to comprehend what he sees in you. It’s certainly not your intellectual prowess.”
“Who?” asked Sarah, agitate.
“All right, cut it out, riddle-man” snapped Kate, impatiently. “Save that cryptic bullshit for the tourists.”
The Stream looked at Kate, as though seeing her for the first time. “Very well” he said, speaking in a tone that was supposed to be natural, but instead came out stilted and he was clearly trying to contain himself.
“Why don’t we take a seat?” suggested Kate, trying to prevent an altercation from breaking out.
The Stream led them over to a deserted table and ordered a drink. “Why do we have to meet here?” asked Sarah, glimpsing around at the patrons. “Among these... people?”
The Stream frowned. “These ‘people’ are lost souls. Whatever life they had beforehand has crumbled around them. What they have around here, it’s not much, admittedly, but it’s home. I apologize for failing to live up to your standards, petit ocell, but you see, not everyone has a castle to retreat to like you.” He turned to Kate. “So” he said briskly, clearly wanting to hurry things along. “What has put you in my direction?” He downed his drink at that point.
“We’re looking for information on an adoption.”
The Stream smiled again, but this time, it didn’t seem like a smile, more like a grimace. “I’d think long and hard before you go looking under that rock.”
“It’s important that we find this information as soon as possible” instructed Kate.
The Stream leaned into Kate and Sarah could see he was inhaling deeply. “You are not one to be trifled with” he said plainly. He leaned back, impressed and to Sarah’s surprise, a little subdued. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, until the Stream finally said, “In Zaragoza, there is a nun. I believe she goes by the name Sister Veronica. To the best of my knowledge, she should still be alive. I suggest you pay her a visit. She will tell you all you need to know.”
“Is she going to tell us about Nathaniel?” asked Sarah impatiently.
The Stream looked at Sarah with interest. “Ah, I’m guessing he’s not been entirely honest with you.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Sarah, trying not to freak out.
“He was worried that you’d run a mile if he told you the truth. Not that I blame him, I imagine that if I had that kind of background, I’d be keeping a tight lip.” He then added in a sotto voice; “And that’s not actually too far off from the truth.
“But I must insist, petit ocell, for your own sake, go home, forget about what you are looking for.”
“What?” exclaimed both Sarah and Kate, Kate in particular looking at the Stream with fiery eyes.
“I don’t think you fully comprehend what you are looking for” said the Stream, taking on a more serious expression and trying to visibly ward off Kate’s angry gaze. “You must know that no good can come from any of this, don’t you? It will wreck a lot of lives; probably Nathaniel’s, certainly yours. It’s not the kind of damage you can contain.
“Now, this man clearly loves you, loves you enough to try and keep you out of Hell, even if it means condemning himself in the process. That kind of love is incredibly hard to come by and in my experience, it always comes with many catches. Go back to your old life. This isn’t your life; it isn’t even your world. You should forget about all of this. Even now, it’s not too late to turn back.”
“I can’t” said Sarah numbly. The words that came tumbling out, they hadn’t been there a moment ago. But the feelings, the feelings had been there for a long time, and it was only now that she was able to put words to them. “I love Nathaniel, I’ve spent a good portion of my life pining after him. If there are going to be any challenges, I want to be able to face them with him. And...” She looked down at her belly. “...I think we’re having a baby. Whatever happens to this child, I don’t want it to go through the same hardships as its father.”
The Stream appeared sincerely moved by this and for a moment, seemed lost for words.
“Well, I must say, I admire your commitment. If you’re absolutely sure, then I will give you what you need, and I will be on my way.”
“I’m sure” said Sarah, like a gambler who was placing a bet she was certain would pay off.
But Sarah would not have been quite so confident if she had known what she was gambling.
After the Stream had conveyed the information, Sarah got up and made her way to the entrance, determined to find this nun. But Kate hung back briefly to glare at the Stream. “What do you think you are playing at?”
“I had to give her the choice,” said the Stream. “Now it’s out of my hands and in yours. So do with it what you will.”
THE DRIVE TO ZARAGOZA was a difficult one for Sarah. Everything that she thought she had known about Nathaniel was now being called into question. At first, she had been angry that that heartfelt confession had been partially engineered. But when she thought about all that she had learned about his brother, the life that he had led – the life that he had been forced to lead – she felt a pang of sympathy. It would take a lot for a man living in darkness to force himself into the light with the constant risk of it weighing him down.
As they drove, Sarah looked over to Kate, who didn’t seem fazed by anything she had learned that day. In some ways, Sarah admired that unbreakable demeanour. It was like looking at a woman who would willing swim with the sharks without fear or trepidation.
As they drove, Sarah noticed a road sign pointing them in the direction of the small town of Burjaraloz. As she glanced at the sign, something shifted in the back of Sarah’s head, an idea that had been planted there by the Stream.
“Let’s go down that route” said Sarah to Kate, who was sat behind the steering wheel as though petrified.
“You sure?” asked Kate.
“Trust me, this is the road we need to take” said Sarah, unable to explain the hunch she had. Then again, today was a day where explanations could not be attached to current events.
