Revelations Ch. 04

"Mr. Brown, or may I call you James."

"James is fine."

"We studied your mother's videos thoroughly, and we've also carefully and I mean carefully discussed with her their content. Her remembrances of the events and the actual taped activities are quite different; later, not today, but at a future conference, after we've had more time with your mother, I'd like to go through her recollections of what happened, and the actual sequences in the videos. I think you'll find it's quite startling, but well in keeping with what actually was happening to her."

"They were that different?"

"Yes James, but it's not surprising. I'm sure you've read our preliminary report. At every occasion when she was with her employer, a Mr. Wolman I believe, or when she was with him and his counterparts she was heavily sedated. We're not sure what chemicals she was being given, but we're sure they had a potent impact on her judgment, her libido, and on her memory."

"That bad?"

"Worse. I'll show you when next we meet we'll go over what they did do and what they did with her. It's easy to tell, the video is quite good, we can look at her eyes and see she'd been drugged."

"Do you have any idea what she given?"

"We have our suspicions, but if you could find any of her coworkers you might be able to get a better picture. If you do, we'd like to hear what you found out."

"Certainly, she's our mother."

"Have you made any discoveries about your father?"

I had, but I wasn't ready yet to share what I found with the doctors. I wasn't sure how they would use what I knew, "I've found out some things, but nothing absolute."

Dr. Mengele cocked his head, "Is there anything?"

"I can say this much. I took the letter to some writing experts; a group who was paid to read these things and interpret what might be hidden between the lines."

The Dr. asked, "Have you come up with anything?"

Our experts are confident it wasn't a suicide note. Oh they can't say he didn't commit suicide, but their take on it was a quite the opposite. They said this was a letter written by an angry man; someone not very likely to kill himself unless he was already psychotic. We knew my dad wasn't psychotic."

"So?"

One of the experts almost chuckled. The one was of the opinion my father was not only alive, but he's probably well aware of everything that's happening right here in Houston. What one of the experts did was to literally pull a chair from the side of the room and place it beside where we were talking. He pointed to the chair and said, "That's your father. He's right here, right now, and he's watching everything we're doing."

"That's interesting; a voice from the grave that isn't a grave."

"Dr. Mengele I tell you I was stunned."

"So what's next James?"

"We're going to run ads in all the Houston and Dallas newspapers. I'm going to see his lawyer. I've hired detectives to try to track down as many of my dad's old friends as we can find. I have a hunch he's hiding out somewhere with an old friend. We find the friend, we find dad. And yes we're looking for my mom's old colleagues. Now it's even more important. If she was drugged, and you say she was. I want to know who did it, what they used, and then I'm going to find out if I can do anything to get at them. Dr. Mengele they may have ruined my mom and dad's lives. I'm like my dad. I'm organized, thorough, and I'm determined. They won't get away with if I have anything to do with it."

Dr. Mengele nodded, "That's your call. We're here to help your mom. I can tell you we're optimistic. I'll tell you about what we've been doing and what we suspect next time we get together. But I warn you; it's some pretty sick stuff."

The next day I ran my first ads in the Houston and Dallas papers. Each ad was half a page; the top half asked for information about anyone who worked with or remembered my dad. The bottom half ran an ad detailing his life and a good photograph of him. Yeah dad got rid of his and mom's photos, but me and Karen we had our share too. I included an appeal to our dad asking him, no begging him to come home. I told him we knew he wasn't dead. Karen and I weren't sure, but we agreed we had nothing to lose.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Back on Grand Cayman:

I got an email from Carson Frank, the lawyer who'd closed out all my affairs before I left Houston. He included an attachment of an advertisement my children had been running in all the newspapers. Carson warned me he wouldn't lie. If they asked him if I was still alive he wouldn't tell them I was dead. He said he'd tell them what they already knew, that Victor Brown was gone.

He also told me my wife was in New Horizons. She'd had a complete mental collapse. He wanted to know if that was what I wanted.

I didn't respond to his email, but now I've got a lot on my mind. I hate her. I can never forgive her, but we had some good years, and we raised two damn fine kids. Yes I hate her too. I'll always hate her.

I don't know what to do. I can't stand the thought of her, but she's still all I think about. I read somewhere, 'it's like I've grasped this hate to my chest. I'm masturbating and shooting off my wad, but my hand is full of sand while I'm doing it. Like, if it supposed to feel so great, then why does it feel so fucking awful?

I don't know; she won't let me move on. I can't rest in peace; it's like the calm before the storm. I feel like my stomach is being ripped apart.

Elizabeth left me. She told me she wanted to go home. She wanted to see her kids again. She said she lived in Chicago. She said she misses the snow and the wind in winter, and she wants to see her grand kids. I saw her off at the airport. She said she loved me. She hoped I'd find what I was looking for. I waved good bye. Well fuck her!

edited by Barney R

Thanks again to Barney R and to Alex__Love for their sustenance.

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