Hardy Detective Agency

"Excuse me, thank you…" Elijah muttered irritably as he had to push his way through his fellow colleagues in the kitchen while balancing two trays of heaped with dirty dishes into the sink. All three dishwashers were out of order and somehow, most fortunately, he was charged with the honor of washing most of the dishes in the cluttered sink.

He had arrived to work a little late but generally, the ten minutes delay went unnoticed. Business in the Italian restaurant just two streets away from Isaiah’s apartment was fluid in the morning but maddeningly hectic during the peak lunch period. The mundane rush was good for him though- it kept his mind off the memories that flooded his mind in the morning- memories that almost incapacitated him to his bedroom had he not regain control over himself after a tiring mental struggle to not dwell into the dark channels his mind had swam in and recoiled from.

Furiously scrubbing the dishes clean while his six-foot frame had to hunch over the sink, Elijah jerked up when he felt someone pinched his behind.

"You’re not on nightshift; care to join me for a drink at my apartment? I’ll make it worth your while." Annabelle Parlin, the restaurant owner who never forayed into the kitchen unless she absolutely had to, whispered into Elijah’s ears as her arms snaked around his waist. Elijah tensed up with a rude retort. He suddenly had the suspicion that the dishwashers were sabotaged deliberately so Annabelle could stage up this scene.

"Get off me." He commanded her coldly.

"Oh come on… who knows… tomorrow, you may not even need to work here anymore… such a waste for someone like you to be washing dishes…"

Elijah threw the sponge onto the sink’s divider and roughly shoved her away with a jerk of his waist. As he walked away to collect a tray filled with table 65’s orders, he heard her laugh derisively from behind him.

"Elijah, Elijah. Don’t act all high and mighty. You’re lucky someone like me has taken an interest in you… if you ask me, I will say that I have offered you the better side of the bargain."

He turned around to check if any of his colleagues would help him out of this predicament but it seemed as if everyone was minding their own businesses. Fuming at their indifference, Elijah bit his lips and started to walk out of the kitchen with the tray when Annabelle blocked his way and raised a seductive eyebrow at him.

"Think about it, Elijah. You’re too good for this and it seemed like you’re no aspiring actor or singer. I have networks… I can help you land a better job even if you don’t have the necessary qualifications if it’s your nature to be… self-independent. In fact, I may even throw in… say a car and an apartment… for as long as you can… humor me." She played with his collar as he contemplated overturning the tray’s contents onto her raven-hair.

"It’s for you." Natalie slid a key into his hands as her head nodded to a brand new black Maserati Spyder parked in the reserved lot of the condominium’s car- park where she kept him in her penthouse. "Do you like it?"

He glowered inwardly, insulted by the gift which did not signify her affections- if anything, she was only emphasizing their business transaction. That was not what Elijah wanted. He wanted her to love him, as he loved her. He wanted their relationship to be one without money or expensive gifts thrown into the picture. He could give up everything for her- his thirst for revenge; his ambitions. Hell, he did not even mind being the obscured third party forever as long as she reciprocated his affections with love. He would be simple- he would smile, talk and laugh more often.

He would change for her into anything she wanted him to be.

Love. Why did it come so easily for others and not him? It was unfair! UNFAIR!

Still, even as emotions bubbled in him, even as her offering cheapened him further, his face showed none of the turmoil and self-disgust. Most importantly, he allowed none of his wretched yearning to grace his mien. Smiling mirthlessly, he turned slightly and kissed her pale cheek, taking in her sandalwood fragrance at the same time.

"Thank you. But I have no need for this. Public transport works fine for me."

She threw back her head and laughed in amusement. "I knew you’ll say something like that. It works for you but not for me. I don’t have much time to be sitting around waiting for you when I call for you. With this, you can be at my beck and call with even greater efficiency, Elijah Raily. Treat it as my investment to make my purchase more worthwhile. You can even keep it as separation compensation… after our contract is over."

He bristled and she felt it, was probably further entertained by it even. She had conquered him, had she not? And she delighted in her accomplishment. Soon, she would drop him like a hot potato for he was no longer ‘fun’ or ‘rewarding’. He knew, with dead certainty, he wasn’t the only man keeping her company.

And how often had he passed her daughter in the campus’ hallway? He was a stranger to Lydia but Lydia did not know just how well Elijah knew her mother.

Pushing down feelings of self-worthlessness down into the grave where he buried all his emotions- feelings which became number and number with each transaction; Elijah took the key and strode towards the car as he imagined Natalie smiling that half-smile- like a predator who knew it was only a matter of time before her prey fall in total submission to her power.

Soon, she would turn around and walk away, brushing her hands to rid it of all evidence that she had ever broken him in the worst manner. And it would be Elijah himself who made it all possible because he refused to leave her, or rather, he cannot leave her.

Elijah blinked away the flashback- like those in the morning, it left him disturbed and disorientated. A sense of self-loathing, intense and soul-ripping surged through him and caused him to drop the tray as his right hand fell down to his side. Annabelle scowled and hollered for someone else to clean up the mess.

"What’s the matter, Elijah? Too innocent for this? This offer stands for until tonight. If you don’t show, you don’t have to come back tomorrow. With the economy as it is now and… your total lack of skills… I doubt it will be easy for you to find something else." Her temptress’ tone turned hostile and jolted him back to reality. Smiling icily back at her, Elijah took off his name tag and threw it at her bosom.

"Maybe this can keep you company tonight. I quit." He pushed her aside and walked out of the restaurant with nonchalant strides.

How noble of you. For who? For Anne? That’s not such a bad deal… until you find something better. You can always find something better.

Love… it’s nothing. You know that. You learned that. Nothing but a pack of lies dressed up as the purest entity in the Universe- the lies. You know the lies.

You told so many yourself, chucking away those you claim to love once you get what you wanted from them.

The abused or the abuser?

He stopped in the middle of a traffic junction, mindless of the honks and rude words shouting him to get off the street. His right hand flew to cover his mouth immediately for he realized he had been mumbling to himself those callous, sarcastic words.

Who am I? What are those … things... that I remembered? My life?

No… no…

No wonder ‘Saiah’ isn’t very forthcoming. He has every right to be repulsed…but like I care. Saiah… he doesn’t care. A PI to tail me? To take pictures of me so he can be assured that I am alive?

Easing his damn guilt!

He left with mom and stayed in her safe arms- arms that would comfort him when nightmares plague him.

He had the better deal all along.

Elijah’s heart pounded as his head throbbed. Something, some malevolent force, was splitting him into two, making him confused and nauseated. Willing his churning guts to not give up on him then, he raced to Anne’s apartment block, hoping to seek solace in comforting, loving arms.

Hoping to hear her say that she loved him, that he was not a bad person.

That he was Elijah- all good, all lovable.

***

"Lynn… where’s Isaiah? He’s been gone for so long… what if Lijah starts to remember? I cannot, in good conscience, just… I don’t know… not try and help him… his past is his life! He has the right to remember…" Anne’s voice traveled past his room’s door into his ears. Elijah woke up from his nap immediately- a nap he ran home to take when he could not find Anne in her home- a nap to dull his mind into oblivion so memories would not come assault him suddenly and yet, incoherently.

Not to mention, disgustingly. He felt like his soul was raped with each flashback, tainting him beyond redemption. Joy surged through him when Anne’s voice drew him out of his restless sleep but her words threw him into a quandary.

She and Lynn must have not known that he was back since he was home early and he always kept his shoes in the cabinet. Knowing that they were talking about him, Elijah crept stealthily to the door and placed his right ear against the wooden structure just in time to hear Lynn sigh.

"I don’t know… he’s a little weird this morning… came out of his room hurriedly, slamming the door shut. He didn’t even stop to grab a bite, just waltzed right out of the apartment after he used the toilet. He could be late but I can tell… he’s troubled by something… which is why I called you over… I thought maybe the both of you have some relationship problems…"

"No… we are fine… just that sometimes he gets frustrated for not remembering quickly enough so he could get a better job with his law qualifications. He had not idea how he could accelerated so fast in college and obtain his Masters at such a young age… he had no idea what he was before- his life… everything. Seeing him helpless sometimes just trying to remember makes me wonder if… if Isaiah is doing the right thing…"

There were some movements and Elijah heard something being placed on the table. "I’m not sure about my husband sometimes. See this file where I make him keep all household bills? I found a receipt for six months worth of rent at Mrs. Greenfields apartment. When I called her, she told me all Isaiah did was place a carton inside…"

"Lijah’s stuff!" Anne exclaimed excitedly. "So that’s where he kept those things. A carton only? I’m sure Elijah would have more things…"

Lynn laughed bitterly. "If you have known, Elijah, you won’t be surprised. He must be the perfect example for the minimalist way of life. Even his speech is shortened to monosyllabic sounds sometimes. You can hardly blame Saiah for…" Elijah heard another heartfelt sigh from Lynn. "For what he did. He called me last night to tell me he’ll most probably be back tomorrow and that he will finally take the responsibility to be a real brother who can face up to the past and help Lijah along… until then, let’s not do anything to jeopardize matters… as for Lijah’s past… I think it is up to him to tell you… if he remembers finally. That moment is between the both of you."

"I know… I’m not afraid of what he’s been through before… I’m just afraid of how it will affect him when he remembers… if I know his experiences beforehand… I… never mind… It must feel really crazy to lose one’s memories just like that."

"Maybe… right now, all we can do is to lend him our support. I feel a caffeine urge coming. Want to join me at Starbucks?"

Anne must have answered Lynn silently for Elijah’s sharp ears picked up two sets of footfalls making their way out of the apartment soon after. When he was certain that nobody else was at home, he slowly opened his room’s door and made his way to the coffee table. On it laid the file Lynn was speaking about. Elijah opened it and after flipping through some papers, he saw the rental receipt Lynn was talking about.

Grabbing a paper and pen, Elijah hurriedly copied down the address and then returned the file to its original state. After washing up quickly, he checked his wallet to see if he had enough cash for a cab.

He had questions that he needed answers to fast.

***

"Lijah, have you eaten?" Lynn yelled from the kitchen. He heard her washing dishes. Washing dishes. Natalie returned to haunt him in the form of Annabelle Parlin as he was washing dishes.

"Can I help you?" The kindly woman like a robust grandmother answered his polite knockings and he smiled at her, turning on all his charms.

"I’m Isaiah’s brother, Elijah. He’s off at some business convention but left something of great importance for the convention with you… I’ve come to pick it up for him." Elijah lied smoothly. "He told me it’s in the carton in the room he rented from you."

"He did? Silly child. He can be quite forgetful when he’s in one of his brooding moods. Once, he had Lynn waiting in my café for ages because he forgotten about their date. But I can hardly blame him- one of his friends passed away suddenly. He told me about you but he said you were in New Haven. So glad to see you finally. Come in…" She unlocked her door and waved him in. For all the city’s crime rates and general common sense about safety, Mrs. Greenfields seemed to be oblivious to them. She was lucky he was not a robber or some psychopathic murderer.

"Yup… I heard about that too." Elijah nodded his head. "That’s my brother. Always distracted…" He pointed to a locked door. "Is that his room?"

"Yes… you may go in and take what you need. I’ll be in the living room, knitting if you need me." She chimed and tarried off to whatever she was doing. Elijah turned the knob to find it locked. He could not ask her for the key, could he? She might grow suspicious, finally.

Elijah hung his coat up on the rack and his lips twisted slightly. "No, I’m not hungry, sis. I’ll be in my room."

"All right. The kitchen’s a little greasy so I’ll be cleaning it up… don’t step inside unless absolutely necessary."

"Right…" Elijah drawled and caught himself. His breath fell a little out of rhythm and he endeavored, with great effort, to walk over to the kitchen, popped his head in and smile. "Need help?"

"Nay…" Lynn turned to him from the sink and grinned happily. "Saiah’s back tomorrow morning. I’ll be fetching him. Want to come along?"

He shook his head with some disappointment. "I can’t. I have work. But I’ll be at home in the late evening."

"Good! Because I won’t be… need to run some errands. You two brothers can keep each other company then."

He looked around, a little anxious. The answer was so close and he was barred from it. Mrs. Greenfields was engrossed in her knitting and paid no attention to him- he wondered if he could hammer down the door- she might not even notice.

Might not. His eyes fell onto a paper clip lying on a stack of papers on her dining table. He was lucky. Without much thought or even bafflement at how he could remember the way to pick a simple lock, he softly walked over, took the paper clip and unbend it into a long, thin wire.

Setting to work on the knob, he glanced over at Mrs. Greenfields to make sure she was not suspecting anything. Seconds later, he felt something in the lock give and heard an almost inaudible click. Turning the knob, he threw open the door to find a carton in the middle of the room.

Elijah nodded and blinked twice. "You know something? I can hardly wait. He’s gone for quite some time… I wonder what business he has in Connecticut and Detroit."

Lynn coughed suddenly and pressed a palm to her chest. Had Elijah less control over himself, he would have smirked at her guilt.

"Sorry… I think he’s there to pick up things… why don’t you ask him when he gets back? He misses you too… told me he had a lot to tell you."

"Really? Still mad at him for forgetting Valentine’s Day?"

She let out a soft chuckle. "We are married, Lijah. I can’t stay angry at him for something so silly or we’ll be heading straight for an annulment in no time…" Her tone softened and she left the dishes alone. Walking over to him, a look of concern set in her pretty face.

"I don’t know if you can remember but Saiah can let emotions run his actions sometimes but… but he would always arrive at the right decision. Sometimes he do things that may seemed cruel but he had nothing but good intentions in his heart. Saiah loved his kid brother, that’s you, more than anything… hell, maybe even more than he loves his wife. Remember that, Lijah. He really believes that whatever he was doing before was for your best interest and there’s nothing he wishes more than to see you happy."

What has he done for me that’s not in my best interest, sis?

Elijah shrugged and reached over to give her a brief hug. "I know, sis. You and Anne are scaring me lately with all your cryptic messages… I’m half-expecting Saiah to say something like, ‘I’m not your brother… I’m just someone who took pity on you’ or something like that…"

Lynn pulled away and gazed into his eyes, worried. "He’s your brother. We are your family. I know you can’t remember much now but… you will soon. He really loves you a lot."

"I know, Lynn. I know." Elijah muttered before turning around to walk to his room, closing the door slowly behind him. He leaned against the door and suddenly remembered something very important. Patting his baggy jeans’ roomy leg pocket, he heaved a sigh of relief. It was still there. He had sacrificed much for it but soon, he would be able to return her everything once his long delayed plans were set in motion. Isaiah had not been thorough in his investigations- no. He did not obtain all of Elijah’s personal belongings.

He could not read Elijah’s sleeping mind despite his psychic powers. Elijah almost laughed as the image of Isaiah, bending over a crystal bowl, peering intently into it, came to his mind.

Elijah staggered with great trepidation towards the carton after locking the door behind him. Answers- the box held all his answers but would he released those flying monsters Pandora did?

What’s the matter now? Scared? How did I ever become so wimpy? Crying for Anne at the first sign of confusion? Disgustingly needing her? Needing anyone?

He clamped his lips shut, knowing he was mumbling again as a familiar iciness clothed him protectively. Shaking away the fear, he sat down in front of the carton and opened it up. Meticulously, he took out everything but stopped when he saw a tattered sketchbook and a mini tape-recorder. Images flitted in his mind- the smell of blood wafted through his nose.

A whip lashed his back. He jerked at the phantom pain as his left hand flew to caress the affected area. Hyperventilating again, he willed for his heart to still and his stomach to stop churning.

He willed for emotions to leave him.

The headiness soon dispelled. Slowly he picked up the recorder and saw a tape inside. He rewound it before pressing play.

"August the third. The leaves are still brown. Winter will come and so will judgment. She refused to see me or pick up my call. But she will one day return to me..."

That’s Natalie. She acted all noble, as if our illicit affair had been all my fault- that I have been the male whore who tempted her.

Sitting down on his bed, Elijah gazed at his own reflection in the mirror. There he was, in its depths, staying still somewhere inside it but never reaching its bottom. The mirror… it had no base and told no secrets except for those it reflected back. But its own mysteries were never reflected out- they were kept safe.

His eyes. Deep blue mirrors.

He had to pry. He had to crack it to see the moldy wall it hid. Connecticut. Detroit.

To keep me safe. For my good? Intentions. Good intentions.

Elijah watched his pale face carefully for any trace of smile lines. He thought of Anne and buried her along with Natalie.

They are all the same. I should have known- my mind… I honed you. I sharpened you and I made you into what you are.

You are me. How dare you betray me by leaving- even if only for a while?

He reached into his pocket and gripped the hilt tightly. Annabelle would be expecting him tonight after she loan him that atrocious sum. He had better prepare.

Once he made contact with the organization, he would have the money and he would pay her back.

He would owe her nothing after that.

***

The man at the threshold to near insanity flung the recorder across the floor and picked up the sketchbook, hoping it would tell him that his mind was lying to him- that it was all messed up.

That the truth was not what was barraging his consciousness. Happy images. Yes. He would see pictures of happy images.

"You lousy no good son-of-a-bitch! You ain’t even worth the welfare money! What are you good for? Tell me?" The portly man slapped him around as his wife yelled for him to make less din.

Elijah stood still, refusing to yield or defend himself. Each slap came down harder. All he did was broke his leg and it was not even his fault. Being skinny and too pale invited bullies.

He knew that now. He would save hard for a set of dumb bells.

"Do you know how much the hospital trip costs me? Huh? How are you going to repay me back? I’ll send you back tomorrow, you filthy bastard. Fancy being infected with gonorrhea as well at such a young age! You’re going to hell, kid! Who knows what you could have passed to my children?!"

Instead, Elijah saw pictures of blackened angels, flowers and violins. He saw the small hand that drew them with tears plopping on the knuckles as it did.

He saw his father. He saw Daniel Raily.

And in Daniel Raily, he saw himself. He saw the serrated knife that his father meant to injure him with - he saw it pushed into his father’s beating heart.

His father. Not Isaiah’s father. His father. His. He saw himself holding on to the knife as his father’s blood spilled over his wounded hands, mingling with his- tainting him even as he drew his breath.

Elijah tore up the sketches, wondering why he did not do so in the first place. Standing up, he unlocked the door and walked out. Patting Mrs. Greenfields on her shoulders, he shocked her and caused her to drop her knitting onto the floor.

"Oh my… how clumsy of me. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No. It’s not there. Thanks for everything." Elijah bade her farewell and strode out of the door. It was time to strike a deal with Annabelle Parlin.