The Aperture

Chapter 25

Visitors

It was around noon when Alyndia got the call from the head nurse that a visitor had arrived who was not Will MacGregor. She quickly touched up her make-up, something she had bartered from another patient for a couple of tablets of Valium that she’d managed to procure from one of the orderlies for a small favor.

Once she was ready, the orderly named Sam led her down a stairwell to the meeting room on the first floor that was put aside specifically for meetings between the patients in her ward and visitors from the outside. As they approached the room, her heart began racing. In reality, this would be the first time she’d ever met Connie’s sister, Felicity. She hoped she would be able to convince Felicity that she was her sister.

Once they got to the room, the orderly unlocked the door for Alyndia and let her pass through. “Have a nice visit,” he said.

“Thank you, Sam.”

That was when Connie first laid eyes on Connie’s second oldest sister, who was two years younger than Joy and four years younger than herself. She was a short woman with a pleasant face, green eyes, and long chestnut hair, which she allowed to flow freely over her shoulders. She looked very little like Connie, except for a passing resemblance in the eyes and the bridge of the nose.

“Felicity!” she said. Connie ran to her and embraced the woman, who embraced her in return. “I’m so glad to see you after so many years.”

“Hi, Connie. Wow! Joy was right. You look good!”

Both women sat down on one of the plush couches. They were the only two in the room except for three others sitting at a table at the far side of the room: a younger female patient whom Alyndia recognized from her ward and what appeared to be her parents. They spoke in hushed tones that could scarcely be heard from where they sat.

“Although I was glad to hear from you, I’m not so happy to hear they’ve got in a mental ward,” Connie’s sister began. “Joy said you had some sort of accident. You hit your head, or something.”

“Yes, there was an accident. But, to be perfectly honest, I was having a nervous breakdown even before that.”

“Why?”

“It was a lot of things: stress from my job, problems with my boss, problems with the guy I was living with. And basically, I was living an unhealthy lifestyle. Eventually, everything crashed down on me at once, and I couldn’t cope.”

Alyndia gave Connie’s sister a tale of woe made up from what she could recall about Connie’s personal life, embellishing it with the kind of sordid details she’d gleaned from the lives of some of the patients in her ward whom she’d gotten to know. The sister nodded thoughtfully as she listened.

“Sounds bad. How are you feeling now?”

“Much better, I think. I want to get out of here as soon as I can.”

“I can understand that. Nobody likes hospitals.”

“Least of all me.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe I can pull some strings to get you out of here.”

Alyndia sat up on hearing this. “Do you think you can?”

She smiled. “You probably didn’t know that I’m an addictions counselor now.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Seven years ago, I went back and got my bachelors in psychology at the University of Wisconsin in River Falls. I worked for the city for a while after I graduated. Now I work through the church and non-profits.”

Connie’s sister went on to describe some of her work history and the details of her job. Alyndia listened politely, nodding occasionally, even though she did not understand half of what she said.

“I’m not certified to practice in this state, but I definitely know my way around the broken mental healthcare system in our country,” she said. “By the way, when was the last time the board here reviewed your case?”

“I have no idea.”

“You don’t? I see. What’s your doctor’s name?”

“The main one—his last name is Gilbreth. I don’t recall his first name.”

“Okay. I’ll find out what I can for you.”

“Thank you, Felicity. By the way, how is Mom doing?”

“Not well, I’m afraid. She doesn’t have long.”

Connie’s sister described their mother’s medical condition. Again, Alyndia didn’t understand everything she told her, but what she did understand didn’t sound good. Alyndia recalled the deaths of her own parents, and it brought tears to her eyes. Connie’s sister seemed genuinely moved by the tears she witnessed.

“You’ve changed quite a bit,” she said.

“Let’s just say I’ve become wiser.”

“Do you still work for the government?”

“Well, I did. Maybe not now. Actually, it doesn’t matter to me. If I lose my job after being here, all I can say is good riddance.”

“I can’t believe I heard you say that. You really, really have changed, Connie.” She looked down at the scar on Connie’s wrist.

“What is that?”

“It was caused by a bracelet that I put on.” She covered the area self-consciously.

“A bracelet did that?”

“Yes. It was an allergic reaction to the metal that was used.”

“An allergic reaction? It looks like it burned you.”

“That’s my fault. I let it go for a while before getting medical treatment.”

Connie had long ago contrived and perfected her “allergic reaction” explanation for the scar due to the curious questions of the other patients in the ward, who almost invariably noticed it and asked her about its origin.

Her sister shook her head. “I’ve heard of allergic reactions to metal, but to me that’s next level.”

Alyndia tried to steer the focus of the conversation away from her scar. “Listen. I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life. The more I think about them, the more I regret them. And one of those things I regret is neglecting you and everyone else in our family. Love and family are the most important things in the world. Sometimes you only realize that when you’ve been without them for so long.”

Connie’s sister winced on hearing that.

“Did I say something wrong?” Alyndia asked.

“No. I just can’t believe you’re the same person I knew so many years ago.”

“Felicity, I would do anything to love and be loved. It’s the truth.” An image of Gerald came into her mind. She desperately wanted to see him and hear his voice.

“You’re certainly not the Connie I used to know,” she said. “I don’t know if it was because of your accident or your treatment here, but you’ve definitely improved in my book.”

Alyndia smiled. “Thanks.” She took her Connie’s sister by the hand. “I’m so glad you could come to see me.”

“Once we found out you were here, we tried contacting you several times, but they wouldn’t put us through.”

“They don’t allow us to talk on the phone.”

“Not even with family?”

“No. It’s their rules. We’re not allowed phone contact with anyone from the outside while we’re here, although apparently we can accept visitors.”

The sister sighed. “I guess we just need to get you out of here.

“I would like that.”

“How are they treating you, though?”

“All right, I guess. They’re nice to me as long as I follow the rules and do what I’m told.”

“What about this Dr. Gilbreth?”

“He’s a psychiatrist. I think he mentioned once that he specialized in neurological diseases, neuropathy, or something like that. Frankly, I don’t trust him. He’s really sly, always trying to trick me and catch me off guard. But don’t tell him I said so.”

“I won’t say a word. What about that doctor who called us—Dr. Kasabian?”

“Yes. He works here in the hospital, but not in this ward. He’s all right. You can pass messages to me through him.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Sam the orderly appeared at the door. Both women looked up when he did.

“Connie, it’s lunchtime now,” he said. “Would you like me to bring your lunch in here, or will you go to the dining room?”

Alyndia turned to her visitor. “Would you like to join me for lunch? We can catch up on things.”

“There will be time for that later. First, I’d like to talk to Alexander.”

“To whom?”

“Kasabian.”

“Oh!” Alyndia laughed. “I didn’t even know his first name. Yes. Talk to him if you want. Thank you, thank you! By the way, he’s from Armenia. Have you ever been there?”

“No, I can’t say I could even find it on a map.”

Both women walked arm-in-arm to the door of the meeting lounge where the orderly waited.

“Thank you again for coming, Felicity. I’m so happy to see you again. And I’m really looking forward to seeing Mom.”

She smiled. “The whole will be happy to see you again, too, Connie. Oh, and by the way—” She drew close to Connie and whispered in her ear so that the orderly could not hear. “I’m not Felicity—I’m Faith.”

Alyndia drew back from Faith, her eyes wide in horror at the grave mistake. At once, she wanted to cry.

“She couldn’t make the trip, so I came instead,” she added before Alyndia could respond.

Alyndia gasped. “Oh, Faith! Forgive me!”

Faith laughed. “Honestly, Connie, I don’t know how you could mix us up. Felicity and I look so different from each other. But I’ll chalk it up to the number of years that have passed since we last saw each other.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. It must be all those medications they’re giving me in this place. And ever since the accident, I sometimes have memory lapses when I—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it! Like I said, you really do seem like a different person, and I think it’s a positive change.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

Faith squeezed Alyndia’s hands to reassure her. “It’s all right. We’re sisters, after all, and haven’t seen each other in a very long time. In any case, I’m happy you’ve changed for the better, and Mom will be, too.”

* * *

Professor Layton was sound asleep on the couch in the middle of the day when the doorbell rang.

“What the hell,” he said aloud to himself. He shifted his position on the couch and tried to fall back asleep.

The doorbell rang again, and then again. As he lay there on the couch, still feeling the effects of his solitary Bacchanalia of the night before, he wondered who it could be. Jehovah’s Witnesses? A vacuum cleaner salesman? Someone who wanted to sell him a new roof? Didn’t they see the NO SOLICITORS sigh in the driveway?

He pressed the throw pillow over his head. The doorbell rang again. Who could it be? he wondered. Who could it be so insistent at 1:04 p.m. when he was sleeping peacefully in his living room, trying to escape his hangover? Why did the world always seek to intrude on his misery? The doorbell rang again. He raised himself from the couch, intending to give the unlucky caller a piece of his mind.

When he opened the door, we took a step back. Standing on the porch was Agent William MacGregor. The agent looked a bit more haggard and tired since the last time he’d seen him at the police station the day of his interview with Alyndia, but he was still the same man.

“Professor Layton,” the MacGregor said simply.

“What are you doing here?” the professor asked him.

“I’ve come here to talk.”

“I see. Why didn’t you break down my door like last time if you wanted to talk?”

“It’s not official business.”

“Oh, so you only break down front doors when you’re on official business?”

“Professor, please.”

“You’ve already interrogated me how many times now?”

“I’m not here to talk about your case.”

The despondence in MacGregor’s voice, coupled with his appearance, evoked pity in the professor. “What do you want?”

“I told you. I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About a woman we both love.”

Professor Layton gazed into his eyes. The agent seemed sincere in his intent. The professor peered through the crack in the doorway out to the driveway and the street beyond. No black SWAT vans were parked there this time. Just a silver late-model sports car.

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah.”

“All right. Come in.”

The professor opened the door, and MacGregor entered. Just inside, the agent canvassed the living room, noticing the empty bottles of various alcoholic spirits lying about, some on the table, some on the floor.

“You have a party in here?” MacGregor asked.

“Yeah. A party for one,” the professor replied.

The men moved into the living room. “Take a seat, Agent MacGregor. Sit anywhere.”

MacGregor sat on the couch where the professor had been sleeping moments before. Professor Layton sat in an armchair on the other side of the cocktail table, facing MacGregor.

“What can I do for you, Agent?”

“I want to talk to you about Connie—or Alyndia or whatever we should call her.”

“Where is she?” the professor asked.

“I’m not at liberty to tell you.”

“Is she all right?”

“I think she is. Actually, I have talked to her in a few weeks, not since the day she interrogated you, at least.”

“How could you not? She said you two lived together.”

“We do, but—well, it’s complicated. She’s not living with me at the moment.”

“I’m a bit confused, Agent MacGregor. Do you think you could elaborate for me a little on this?”

“The truth in the matter is that she won’t talk to me. She won’t even see me.”

“That’s because she’s not Connie anymore. She’s Alyndia.”

MacGregor rubbed his face with his big hands. “You know, professor. Ever since she woke up from the coma, she hasn’t been the same. I’ve been trying to get my head around what you told me. I’ll be honest with you. It sounds nutty, but from what I saw, I can’t think of a better explanation for what’s happened to her.”

“Are you telling me you now believe she’s who I said she is?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what to believe anymore. I just know she’s not the same person she was when she woke up from that coma.”

The professor studied MacGregor. The man appeared to not have slept in days.

“I just don’t know what to do at this point,” he said, his voice tinged with emotion. I'm losing my mind over this. I’m even missing days of work because of it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah? Remember that so-called interrogation she did at the station? I saw everything. And let me tell you—she never, ever acted with me the way I saw her act with you.”

“And?”

“I’ve known that woman for years, but when I saw her with you, I thought I was watching a completely different woman. Even her body language was different. It was all so clear to me.” He looked up at the professor. “Did you somehow hypnotize her or something?”

“I assure you—I did no such thing.”

“And then afterward, maybe more out of jealousy than anything else, I did something I shouldn’t have. And now she hates me for it. She won’t even give me the time of day.”

Agent MacGregor wiped his eyes. Something about seeing this kind of emotion in such a big, imposing man incited pity in the professor.

“You look like you could use a beer,” the professor said.

“You have one?”

“I’ve got lots. What do you want? Dark? Light? I’ll get one for both of us.”

“I don’t care. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

The professor got up and went into the kitchen and got two dark beers from the refrigerator. After opening them, he looked for some clean glasses to pour them into, but the cupboards were bare, and every sort of dishware and glass in the house now sat in a heap in the sink unwashed. Feeling too hungover to look for a clean glass or rinse out whichever one he found, he brought both bottles back to the living room. On reentering it, he saw MacGregor looking at one of his gold-framed pictures sitting on the mantel above the fireplace.

“Here you go,” he said to MacGregor.

Both men took a sip from their beers.

“Is this your wife in the photo?” MacGregor asked.

“Yes. That one was taken while we were on vacation in Orlando some years ago.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She was more than that. She was an angel.”

“And this is your son?” Mac Gregor asked, picking up another photo.

“Yes. But you should know that.”

“He looks a lot younger here than in the file photos we have of him.”

“That was taken just before he went into the Peace Corps. That’s when he fell in love with that Muslim woman in Africa and changed his religion.”

“I know all about that.”

“Of course you do.”

“How is your wife doing?”

“Don’t you know? My Elise passed away a few weeks ago.”

MacGregor looked at him, surprised. “She did?”

“Yes. I thought you would have known that. The CIA knows everything, I thought.”

“No, I didn’t know anything about it. I’m sorry to hear that, Professor.”

“Well, it happened. She’d been in a coma for a long time. Maybe it was overdue.”

The professor returned to the armchair. MacGregor sat back on the couch where he had before.

“Since you don’t know that Elise died, you probably also don’t know that I lost my job at the university.”

“Are you blaming me for that?”

“No, I’m not. You nailed me on the pilferage of university supplies. I have no one to blame but myself for that. They offered me a deal, saying that if I turned in my resignation, they would not press charges.”

“You’re not going to prison. Sounds like you got a good deal.”

The professor shrugged. The men drank their beers in silence for a while, the only sound being the occasional car passing on the street in front of the house.

“So what was she like, your Alyndia?” MacGregor asked after taking a sip of his beer.

“Very nice. Kind of shy. Fun to talk to. But hey, you’ve spent more time than I have at this moment. You probably know more about her than I do.”

Both of the men laughed, which dissipated some of the tension between them.

“Well, your Alyndia—she isn’t anything like my Connie, except that she’s very stubborn. You see, she was headstrong. She had a mind of her own. She wasn’t into kids, marriage, family, and all that stuff, but she was as loyal as hell and had a heart of gold.”

“She had me fooled. I didn’t get that impression at all when I met her.”

“It was an interrogation. What do you expect? She always comes off that way at interrogations. She gets a kick of being tough like that when the occasion presents itself.”

“And how about Alyndia?

“They had some similarities. But you knew Alyndia first. What’s your impression?”

The professor drank from his beer before speaking. “I never had the impression that she was stubborn at all. If anything, she had kind of a melancholic personality. I had trouble reading her from time to time. We talked quite a bit, but I always got the impression that there were parts of herself that she wouldn’t open up to me. I always sensed that she was deeply unhappy on some level.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Mostly differences between our worlds—the culture, the magic use instead of technology, the history.”

“I remember you saying they breathe chlorine there and drink hydrochloric acid. That’s some nasty shit. How they do that?”

“It’s normal for them.”

“Isn’t there any oxygen?”

“Maybe a few percent. Not like here, tough. The atmosphere is also denser there than it is here.”

“But chlorine? Really?”

“Yes. And here’s something funny. Before Alyndia would visit me, I would prepare the chamber by filling it with chlorine. When she arrived, she always commented that the chlorine on earth was better than what she had in her world, and it made her high just to inhale it. Of course, here she was breathing pure chlorine, whereas in her world it's mixed with other gases.”

“I would never have guessed…” MacGregor began, his voice trailing off.

The professor drank more of his beer. “I’ve done some research on this. I have found that, theoretically, biological systems can respire chlorine if the planetary conditions are just right. I’ll show you my findings if you’d like. You might find it interesting.”

“I think I’ll pass on that. I didn’t do too well in biology and chemistry in college. But I’m curious about something. If Alyndia is here, where do you think Connie is?”

“I’m going to guess that she’s now in Cerinya.”

“You’re saying that Connie is now where Alyndia used to live?”

“Yes. She’s likely inhabiting Alyndia’s body now. That would be the most logical thing. After all, just like here, she wouldn’t be able to exist there without a body.”

MacGregor shook his head. “If she’s really there, I wonder how she likes it.”

“I’ve never seen it myself. I just know of it what Alyndia’s told me.”

“If Connie’s stuck in that other world, is it possible to contact her? You know, like to let her know we’re looking for her?”

“No,” Professor Layton said.

“You can’t open up an aperture, or whatever you called it, to talk to Connie the same way you talked to Alyndia?”

“It’s not possible unless Connie herself learns to cast the spells that Alyndia used to cast. But then, of course, your people destroyed my lab when you confiscated everything that wasn’t nailed down.”

“We were only doing our jobs, professor. Don’t take it personal.”

“I don’t anymore.”

The professor finished off his beer. On doing so, he looked at MacGregor’s bottle. “How are you doing on your beer?”

“Just about finished it?”

“I’m going to get another. You want one?”

“Sure, why not?”

Professor Layton and William MacGregor drank beer for an hour or so before moving down into the basement, where they played a few rounds of pool on the table that Professor Layton had there. When they weren’t focused on shooting balls into the pockets, they gave anecdotes about their women. They’d already played several games when Professor Layton broached the topic again of where Connie/Alyndia was located.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I can’t tell you where she is,” MacGregor replied, racking up the balls using the triangular rack made especially for the purpose.

“Is she in the city?”

“Maybe.”

“You want her back, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“Maybe you still doubt that she’s really Alyndia. Maybe deep inside you think she’s still your Connie after all. And any day now she might snap out of her delusion and become that woman you loved once again.”

MacGregor was now facing the professor, clutching the pool stick in both hands. “I don’t get it. What’s your point?”

“Suppose we do a test to find out who she really is once and for all—a test that would settle all doubt in your mind as to whose spirit now inhabits Connie’s body.”

“How would we do that?”

The professor described a scheme in which the both of them would write questions for Connie that the other would ask. These questions would consist of personal information that either Connie or Alyndia would know, but not both. If Connie or Alyndia could answer only one list of questions correctly, then they would know her true identity.

“Sounds logical, Professor. But, as I already told you, she refuses to see me.”

“Suppose I came along with you? You saw that she now loves me. Do you think she would meet with both of us if she knew I was going to be there too?”

MacGregor narrowed his eyes at Professor Layton. “That would require me telling you where she is.”

“Yes. But we would go together, and you would get to see her, too. We could then give her the test.”

“What would that achieve?”

“That’s easy. If she answers your questions correctly, she’s your Connie. In that case, I’ll recant my entire story and disappear from her life. I’ll never talk to her again.”

“What if she answers your questions correctly?”

“Then, Agent MacGregor, you will be able to move on with your life, knowing that your Connie is probably gone forever. You will be free to live and love again.”

Agent MacGregor rubbed his eyes as he thought.

“Well? Don’t you want to know the truth?” the professor asked him. “You’re not afraid to know the truth, are you?”

At last, MacGregor looked up at him. “All right. Let’s do it.”

MacGregor did the driving. On Professor Layton’s lap, in plain view of MacGregor for the entire trip, were the two sealed, plain white envelopes containing a single sheet of paper on which one had written a set of five questions that either Connie or Alyndia would know. Both men had written their questions in private without revealing to the other what the questions were. The sun had already set by the time the two men arrived at the hospital.

“So this is where she’s been staying all this time, huh?” Professor Layton said as they walked from the car across the cold parking lot to the well-lit lobby.

“Yeah. When I brought her here, I honestly didn’t think they’d keep her as long as they have. That was my mistake.”

“Why do you say it was a mistake?”

“She really didn’t want to come here. After your interrogation, she wanted us to go back to our place to work on our relationship again.”

“Are you sure she said that?”

“Yeah. In fact, she was adamant about it.”

The two men passed into the lobby. They walked up the desk. The nurse working there recognized MacGregor.

“Hi, there. Back again?”

“Yeah. We’re to see Connie Bain. I hope we’re not too late for visiting hours. This time, I have a guest with me. This is Professor Gerald Layton. L-A-Y-T-O-N. He’s a colleague of mine.” He cleared his throat. “Tell her that he’s here with me. She’ll want to see him.”

“Just a sec.”

The nurse typed something into a computer terminal. The information on the screen was not visible to the two men. They waited patiently. At once, the nurse knitted her brow at something she saw on the screen.

“Is something wrong?” MacGregor asked the nurse, noticing her expression.

“Just a moment.”

The nurse picked up the phone on her desk and punched in three numbers and waited. The two men looked at each other. Professor Layton raised his eyebrows at MacGregor. The agent shrugged.

The nurse began speaking while gazing at something on her computer monitor. “Hi, Geri, this is Sue downstairs. I calling for Constance Bain. That’s B-A-I-N—That’s right—Yes—She did?—When?—I see—No, no. There are two gentlemen down here in the lobby who are here to see her—Yes. I know that—All right. I’ll tell them—Thank you, Geri. Bye.” The nurse put down the handset.

“Well?” MacGregor asked her.

“Ms. Bain checked out.”

The two men looked at each other.

“She did? When?”

“Early this morning.”

MacGregor began to perspire in the tepid lobby. “Where did she go?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have that information.”