DISCLAIMER: All characters are the property of Angela Robinson and SONY.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Sins of the Father
I've heard all about love. About how it hits you unexpectedly and the old cliché of 'looking for love in all the wrong places' and finding it in the very last place you looked. Which makes complete sense when you think about it; I mean, why on earth would you continue to look if you've already found it?
I've also heard a saying that goes, 'every bread has its cheese'. Hopefully, neither of which would be smelly and mouldy.
I turn down the volume on my iPod and look around. Is there no one without white strings hanging from their ears? I can feel my mouth curve into a slight smirk as I flip the sound reduction switch on my "not-white" headphones and gaze out the window. I've always loved travelling by train, especially at night. No trees blurrily whizzing by or streaking countryside to distract me from my thoughts. And, unlike air travel, my sinuses aren't turned to parchment by the end of my trip. Add to that the fact that airplanes are just too fast.
Everything's way too fast these days. I suppose I could have driven, but, I hate traffic. Any traffic. And in this storm which, by the way, is agitating my view with its rumbling and flashing. Oh, and don't let me get started on snow. Driving in snow is just an exercise in
Hang on. How do I do that?
I've totally distracted myself from my line of thought. There are times I get so carried away thinking about something that I forget what I was thinking about in the first place. Maybe I have ADD. I never had it as a child. Father always said that he'd never seen a child that could be so focused.
Love. That's the topic, right? Turning my iPod back up, I wonder if I've ever been this reckless in my life. Diamond thief, badass master criminal. Reckless? No, not a word to describe me. Ever. So, can anyone tell me what I'm doing on a train to London? Lisa from Interpol would have a stroke if she knew I was en route to her stomping grounds. There was a time I'd be thrilled to give her one. Ah, happy days.
I ignore the glare of the dozing man in the aisle seat across from me. What? Have you never seen a grown woman laugh out loud at no apparent joke? Must be an Aussie. Never liked their attitude.
I must admit that my attitude to this whole affair has been surprising to everyone. Not least of all, myself. I've given up everything I own, everything I've known to be where I am now. On a train, on the way to meet my
The darkness blinks as a bolt of lightening cracks through it.
What no who am I going to meet? My girlfriend? What the hell am I doing? Oops. Did I say that out loud? Out of the corner of my eye I see Crocodile Dundee staring at me again. Looks like he needs some help getting to sleep.
I lean back comfortably in my seat once again. Always knew those mini tranquiliser darts would come in handy. Good thing I decided to keep this watch with me. Pretty too. I've always believed that beauty and function should go hand in hand. Nothing like a carbon fibre grappling line shooting forth from a brass, hand crafted belt buckle. Or diamond studs that double as communicators. Another lesson well learned from my father.
I think I've raised mental circumlocution to an art form.
So, I'm on my way to meet my girlfriend. My lover. The reason behind all that I am now. The person who occupies my every thought, whose voice haunts me in my sleep, whose eyes I am reminded of every time I see a clear, blue sky. What do you call the person who causes your gut to twist and your heart clench in apprehension when you think of her?
I reach for a hurried gulp of my water and its surface ripples violently from the deep, angry rumble that chases another bolt across the black sky.
I am afraid. Yes, I am afraid. The unknown has always been a factor in my life and I am not afraid of it. Actually, the unknown excites me, thrills me. I've never been careless. All of my plans are carefully made and laid out. Still, the element of the unknown makes my blood race. Anything could happen and that excites me.
What scares me most is the 'known'. I know that I do not deserve her. No argument there. How could a heart as pure as hers love a heart like mine? One day her eyes will open and she will see me as I truly am. Just as my father was, so will I be.
And then it will be all over. This I know, and it scares me.
There is no way I am or will ever be worthy of her love.
I can see my own reflection in the window and I look past it, into myself. I'm not sure how long I've remained peering into darkness. It must have been a while. We've stumbled past the edge of the storm and are left with occasional shocks of white that expose everything. It's a jolt to the senses to see where you really are.
My gaze shifts to the bag pressed against my side. She gave me her most prized possession. "Keep this for me," she said as she pressed her sketchbook into my hands. "Keep it until we meet again."
I wanted to give her something to prove myself to her. She just smiled and shook her head, placing her hand over my heart.
That's all she said to me. I know. She knows. How could she know and still want me? She knows all about my past life. The life my father made for me. I am my father's daughter. I am who I am.
Soft yellow and white lights are starting to flash across my dark. I'm almost there. Not much longer until I see her again. Not long until she sees me. Damn. Next time I'll have to bring something stronger than water.
Next time? God, I hope not. The train slows and as scared as I am, I breeze past Sleeping Boy and am the first at the door when it finally stops. I don't even have to look for her in the crowd. Her eyes shine at me like a beacon in the gloom. Instantly, the light of her love burns away all my fears like mists in the rays of the sun.
The storm whimpers petulantly in the distance as it fades away to nothing. The air is moist and warm and soothing.
Finally, I stand before her and reach for my bag to return her sketchbook to her. Déja-vu strikes as she shakes her head and places her hand over my heart.
It's strange, but, suddenly, I do too. This woman my woman, loves me just as I love her. And love her I do, with all my heart. I can't hide from her and I don't need to. I am who I am. I am my father's daughter, but I am also who I want to be. I am the woman who gave up a life of unending darkness to live with the light. And as much as I enjoyed that life, this is where I want to be.
She smiles as I grin at her. Slipping her arms over my shoulders to caress my neck she gazes at me lovingly.
"How was your trip, babe?"
I draw her close and feel the warm, soft curves of her body meld into mine as our lips meet. Her scent fills my nostrils as her taste flows over my tongue. My lungs fill with her breath as if breathing for the first time and my scalp tingles as her fingers wind their way into my hair.
Finally, I draw back to look at eyes as deep and as true as the ocean. Smiling, I rest my forehead against hers and I answer her.
"I should have flown."
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