Chapter 4

Soaked in the soft melody of Spring by Vivaldi playing through the speakers I kept in the corner of the room, I added another swift movement of the brush across the old canvas. The aged parchment was already yellowed and brittle, and adding another layer of oil-based paint would only make it more fragile than it already was.

But such was the price of forging an ancient artpiece. The sky I had painted on the canvas looked bleak, black and red mixing through yellowed paper. I stepped a careful step back, and made sure I hadn’t screwed up.

Every con on The Circle was good at something. Hayley Seyfried was good at gaining trust, most of the time unconditionally. Hayden Seyfried was good at hit-and-run incidents. Danaus Reinsfield, the youngest of us, was the most convincing person ever. Elliot Myriam was good at dealing with people’s inner desires. Orson Scott was great at organizing white collar crimes and running a large productions.

I was infamous for the number of connections I had everywhere, with power behind my contacts. On The Circle, I mastered myself in art crimes, and though I had many people willing to do my job in my stead, forging great art pieces remained the one interest that I would not let my contacts do –unless I was seriously tied up and pressed for time.

Stepping back, I focused on recreating the amazing painting of a man and woman, cuddling in each other’s embrace, naked while doused in the blood of a war ongoing in their background. The artist behind this piece was anonymous, but ever since it was propelled into the spotlight a few years ago at the amazing techniques displayed, the demand for this piece had skyrocketed through the roof.

Of course, when it did –it attracted the attention of many forgers and conmen.

So far, the best recreation of this piece was done by Jeremy Stiles –Hayley’s partner-in-crime. The man had exploded back to fame after going through treatment for his brain cancer with a wonderful replica of the piece that I had been motivated to test my own skills with the same piece. What kind of a member on The Circle would I be if I couldn’t even come up with a piece at least up to Jeremy’s standard?

A phone rang somewhere, the loud noise jerking through the soft music playing through the speakers with volume on low. Irritated, but unable to ignore the call –for it came from my personal phone –I rested my brush and palette at the side and went to pick up the call.

“Mr. Elxa!” I distantly heard a voice shouting above the sound of heavy club music, and it was easy to guess who it was. Ever since taking up the job, Ms. Hurst had shown determination in her movements, and even though I would wish her well, it seemed as if her journey was not going well –as was the 9 nannies before her. I would not say that the determination she displayed now was the strongest, and I would not say that she would stay the longest.

I would only sit back quietly and watch. And hope that one day, I would find a woman who could get through Jon’s prickly defenses.

“Ms. Hurst.” I greeted back impassively, wiping my hands on a cloth nearby. When Ms. Hurst called, there was only one reason.

“Um, we didn’t discuss this the other day, but what if Jon decides to get chummy and takes a woman to her place?” She asked, barely audible above the heavy beats of the background music. While I could not give her points for interrupting me in my activity, I could tell she was making an effort to be true to her job.

“Take down the address of where they go and come back. Jon usually stays over, wakes up hung-over in the morning and gets a cab back by himself.” I instructed, and was ready to shut the connection off, eager to get back to my half-completed artpiece. I couldn’t let the paint dry too quickly on the canvas, or the interruption in my artwork would seem obvious to all trained eyes.

“Wait!” She exclaimed with such urgency that I refrained from disconnecting the call immediately.

“What is it, Ms. Hurst?”

“Should I get him a condom? I don’t want him to get STDs or anything…” She asked, and I paused for the slightest moment. She definitely deserved some points for putting mind to her job. She was dedicated –I could say.

“Do what you will; I have no regards.”

This time, I disconnected the call before she could say anything more. In all honesty, I felt like a failure. I had entirely given up on Jon. My parents would be rolling in their graves, cursing me from six feet under if they knew. Jed would watch me with his judgmental eyes and tell me that I had failed him. May would give me her sad, tearful eyes and turn away crying.

But I was at my wits end. Even my parents wouldn’t know what to do with Jon. When Jon was young, he had been a pretty normal boy. He loved cars, loved any toy with wheels. He loved ice cream, and I often sneaked him out for treats. He often hugged me and told me he loved me.

But that had all been when Jon was young. Now, all Jon told me was that he hated me, and that he wished he never had to live with me, that he never grew up with me taking care of him. All Jon did now was destroy himself, digging himself a pit that only got deeper whenever I tried to put my hand in to pull him up. No, Jon only dug deeper whenever I tried, and he stayed in his depth when I left him alone.

Of course, all I could do was to leave him alone and watch him destroy himself further with booze and women. At least he wasn’t taking drugs yet.

Thoughts of Jon was bad in accompaniment to the lively music that was gently flowing from the speakers, and I cleared my mind quickly, putting the phone down and picking up my brush again. My life had been ruined since fifteen years ago, and Jon hadn’t made it better. In a long-drawn, impassive, painful and silent life like mine, I could only take the enjoyment where I got them.

I set my hands to the canvas, and let myself go.

____________________________________________________________________________________

I am unsure if I am surprised or simply accepting to find Jon barging in through my study door in the middle of the night, half-drunk and entirely pissed off. Behind him, in the doorway rushing in worriedly like a mother-hen, was Ms. Hurst.

Ms. Hurst, in her few days of stay since I hired her, was someone who dressed simply. She often dressed in simple, one-colored tee-shirts, accompanied with waist-hugging jeans. Her choice of footwear was often either flats or sneakers, and the latter was the obvious favored choice.

“For fuck’s sake!” Jon slurred, lumbering over to the desk and slamming both fists on it, making the table rattle while I looked up impassively. Against the light of my desk lamp, shadows danced on Jon’s face, behind his eyes. He hurt –hurt so much. But yet, there was nothing at all I could do, except sit there and wait for him to lash out his pain at me. “Get your dog off me, Elxa!”

My eyes flickered quickly over to Ms. Hurst, who had totally ignored the comment of her being my ‘dog’, and was trying to get Jon to calm down. Jon, for his case, pushed the woman away, only to have her coming back and desperately trying to trap his arms, as if not trusting his drunken arms to not hurt him somehow.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” I replied evenly, closing the file in front of me calmly so that no attention would be drawn to the question as to why a trading businessman had an FBI file in front of him.

“You fucking damn-well know!” He yelled, and I could easily smell the alcohol on him as he swayed from side-to-side, still struggling with Ms. Hurst’s motherly interference. “Your woman here! This bitch’s been following me around like a dog! I know you hired her to keep track of my movements!”

I silently added points to Ms. Hurst for not taking a single offense at Jon’s slurred insults. Speaking gently, as if speaking to a confused young child, she was relentless in trying to trap Jon’s hands, telling him softly to calm down and leave me alone. I held eye contact with Jon’s clouded gray ones, watching as it focused and unfocused on me.

“I hired her to take care of you, and she has been doing a great job so far. You don’t like her being around you, Jon? Deal with it. You threw away your freedom when you refused to listen to me. Now you don’t deserve your freedom.” I shuffled another piece of paper on top of the FBI file so that none of them would be drawn to the logo of the Bureau, as I stood up slowly, finding –surprisingly –that Jon had actually grown almost as high as I now stood.

It felt like centuries ago that Jon was only at the height of my waist, looking up at me with innocent, awed eyes.

“I don’t need to listen to you, motherfucker. I don’t need anyone taking care of me; I can take care of myself! So leave me alone, Elxa! YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER!” He screamed, pushing away Ms. Hurst with all his strength. Even though Ms. Hurst was older, it changed no fact that Jon was still a man and still stronger, as she lost her balance and fell roughly to the floor.

The impact of skin-to-skin contact rang out in the silent air of the night, and I blinked in blank surprise to see my hand upraised. The palm of my upraised hand tingled, and I blinked again, my mind racing to catch up with my actions while the cold, unnatural words came to my lips, tumbling out in the icy night.

“It’s been 15 years, Jon, since May died. No matter what you say, the fact stays that I am your father now. I am your father and your mother, your guardian –everything. May trusted me to take care of you, and I will. You say you have grown up, but all I see now is a 19 year old baby who needs babysitting. I cannot trust you, even for a single day, to survive by yourself. Sure; go drink and make a mess of yourself. Even if you end up in jail, know that you are only there, making Jed and May cry. Know that you getting yourself in trouble isn’t going to hurt me anymore, Jon.”

The shock seeped through the alcohol haze in his eyes, and Jon looked back at me, cradling the side of the face that I now found that I had slapped. Gray eyes narrowed on me so sharply that for a moment, I saw Jed’s anger.

“You say you don’t hurt.” He said, his voice low. “But the fact you slapped me still means you hurt at everything I do. I’m going to make you hurt more, Elxa. It’s all because of you I don’t have a father and a mother. It’s all because of you!”

Without waiting a word more, he ran off –surprisingly able to make his way out of the study in a straight line. A moment later, the sound of a large bang shook the building on its foundations, and angry shouting and crashing noises started from Jon’s room. The boy was still destroying himself, and I was getting nowhere better with him.

No, my moment of lapse in self-control had only made it worst. I had shown Jon that I still cared, and to make me hurt even more, he was only going to dig deeper.

I fell back to my seat, propping my elbow on the desk, and my forehead on my hands. What had I done? I had never hit Jon before; this was the first time.

“Mr. Elxa?” The unsure voice pierced through the silence of my study after a long moment, but I had lost strength to entertain curious questions. I wasn’t even up to ask why Jon had ended up coming home instead of staying outside in the sweet embrace of a woman.

“Check on Jon, Ms. Hurst. Make sure he hasn’t slashed himself or done anything to threaten his own life.” I instructed, not bothering to look up. It was times like these that I truly wondered why I was living at all. Dealing with a boy like Jon in my life, dealing with the con world at the other end of the spectrum, I felt as if was often torn into two. In both worlds, personal and business, I had never been able to let myself go. Never had I been allowed to show my true self, the true Elxa hiding forever beneath.

Now, I wasn’t even sure if the true Elxa was there anymore, or just sucked away in a black hole.

“I don’t understand, Mr. Elxa. What exactly do you want from this? You don’t want him to die, but you’ve given up on him. You’ve let go, but still you put rules and pull him back. You’ve lost hope on him, but you still make sure he stays well physically and alive. Are you out to break him mentally and hope he ends up in a mental hospital?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ms. Hurst, and I am not up to it at the moment. Go and check on Jon and make sure he is fine.” I replied, a little irritated but still mostly simply just exhausted.

“No, Mr. Elxa, you should understand where I come in. I view this as an outsider, and both you and Jon have problems in this relationship. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and I don’t know why Jon keeps on saying you’re not his father, but I know something bad happened. But Jon is a teenager going through a phase, Mr. Elxa. He is struggling with himself, and he is hurting inside. He tries to drown it all by drinking and partying. You should be trying to reach out to him, and not pushing him away.” Ms. Hurst insisted, and I felt a force of indignant anger rise. How could she assume that I have done nothing? How could she assume that I have been totally unfazed by Jon’s rebellious actions? How could she assume that I had been indifferent to Jon’s path of self-destruction?

And then I realized; I must really seem like the sort. With my impassive tone to her, to Jon, to everyone, I must seem like I don’t care.

“I have tried, Ms. Hurst. Jon wants nothing more than to hurt me, and he knows that destroying himself will hurt me the most. I see the hurt in his eyes, Ms. Hurst. And if hating me, and shouting at me, and rebelling is going to let him release a little of that hurt and anger, I can take it. I want him to let go of his pain, but I can’t help him. I can only ask you to watch over him while he hates me to the core.”

A particularly loud crash came from Jon’s room, then an enraged cry erupted into the night. A moment later, the sound of someone crying faded into the night’s silence.

A warm hand that clutches over mine jolts me, but I refused to look up, only at the hands that now cradled mine like it was a piece of fragile glass.

“You hurt too, Mr. Elxa. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but it has ended up with the two of you hurting. I’m sorry that I thought you never tried to reach out to him. I’ll take care of him for you, I promise. I’ll do my best to make Jon let go of his pain. But when he does, please be ready to accept him back. Jon’s just like me when you found me. He has no direction. He needs you to give him a direction.”

Then, before I could say more, the warm hands removed themselves, and the door to my study closed quietly with a soft click.

Hours afterwards, I still sat at my desk, staring at my hands. Distantly, I absently withdrew the rings I had been keeping safely in my drawer, placing them in my palm as I inspected them. The rings were made from the same material, probably cast at the same time. The carvings upon them were made with the same skilled hands.

One of them had ‘Kristen’ inscribed inside –Hayden’s ring. The other had ‘Hayden’ inscribed on the inside. There was no asking who it belonged to.

I closed my fingers over the rings, feeling as the metal bands pressed into my skin, almost forming an imprint. The soft pain was almost a welcome for me as I clenched tightly. Even though neither Hayden nor Kristen could hear me at the moment, I asked them a question silently, in my mind.

How could I ever make this wrong a right?

How could I ever make Jon happy again?

_____________________________________________________________________________________

The hallways were filled with heavy, somber and respectful silence, and every step I took only reverberated with painful echoes. I hated walking with sound, but I was reduced as such now.

Only yesterday had the recurring pain in my leg returned to me, reminding me of the painful scars of my past. Ever since the accident fifteen years ago that killed Jed and May, the damage in my shin had never truly recovered fully. Instead, while it was largely, mainly still normal, the intense pain would come back between the years. I would see the doctors for painkillers, and wait for the pain to fade back into nothingness, walking around painfully with a cane in the meantime.

The same could never be said for the scar upon my heart and soul.

I turned directions, as I had one for so many years. The sharp strike of the tip of my cane echoed on the marble floor, and I winced at another stab of pain that bloomed from my shin. It was something to do with my bone not growing back properly, with an ivory splinter forever pressing onto a nerve running along my shin. It was all medical talk to me, but it changed no fact that when it hurt, inconvenience came around.

Still, I grit my teeth and persevered.

Rows and rows of names –small boxes lined in the walls –followed one another. I passed a silent couple, staring sadly at one of the names, the tears in their eyes. Not wanting to interrupt in their lives, as well nose in the life of their recently-departed acquaintance, I kept my eyes down as I walked.

Respectful silence for the dead hung in every corner, save the sharp strike of my cane on the floor.

I stopped after a few more turns in the corridor, coming to a stop in a small circular room. Largely empty, a display of a pair of urns stood behind bulletproof glass. This was the best I could get for Jed and May’s rest fifteen years ago –to give them a room by themselves. Thudding painfully slowly to the final resting place of Jon’s parents, I stopped before the familiar urns and stared painfully.

I’m sorry. I prayed silently. I’m sorry I’ve failed you. Jon is really out of control. I am out of control.

Of course, I never expected a reply from them. Many times; I wondered what would happen if they didn’t die. What would happen if I knew that Tyler Yule had tampered with the car’s brakes and gas pedal before we got on the car? What would have happened if I was the one dead instead of the two of them? Jon would definitely be in a much better place than he was now. They would still be a happy family.

This is all I can do now. Please watch over your son from the heavens and guide him along.

I would never expect either of them to ever come to me and tell me I’ve done a good job so far. They were dead, and could no longer see the painful turnout of what their son had become –what I had made their son to be. Sometimes, I wonder why I even pray to them, and wish for them to look after their flesh and blood. It was wishful thinking, but nevertheless, still a hope. No man could survive without hope.

I am sorry for what happened fifteen years ago.

Of course, there was no way they could hear me. There was no way they would forgive me even if they heard me. It was because of me that they could no longer see their son grow up. And if that wasn’t it, I had brought up their beloved flesh and blood up –to see him destroy himself. In times as such, I was so much grateful that they couldn’t see.

“Paying your respects to Jed and May?” A soft voice, subdued in a respectable tone came from behind, and I opened my eyes to find my hand rested on the bulletproof glass protecting the urns.

I turned around to find her walking in with an easy stride. The years had not been any harsher on Hayley Seyfried at all. Yes, while the tendons of age were now becoming slightly more obvious, she, at a ripe age of 46, was still beautiful. At her side was her partner, expression as somber as the couple outside had been.

They viewed this as a tragedy. Indirectly, it had been Hayley’s fault that Jed and May died. Yet, what was the point going all around pointing the finger at everyone involved? We were guilty all the same.

“Fifteen years have passed, but life has not been any easier.” I conceded to say, removing my hand from the glass cover. They had caught me in a brief moment’s worth of weakness, but it was all I was going to allow Hayley and Jeremy.

They stepped into the small room, and Jeremy placed a bouquet of flowers respectfully in the vase left at the side. Hayley’s hand found itself on the glass cover, as mine had done, and a moment’s worth of silence passed as both Jeremy and Hayley gave their respects to the dead.

“I will never stop feeling apologetic to you, Elxa. But we are past that. The only thing I can do is watch over you on The Circle. Jed deserves at least someone looking out for you.” Hayley offered after a short while, her free hand coming up to take my limp one, as if trying to get through to me. How funny; it seemed almost as if I were the rebellious teenager now.

I shook her hand away, letting it hang suspended in the air. A brief look of hurt flashed past her face, but it cleared quickly.

“Look out for Danaus instead. He lost his closest kin, and Tyler left him with no family. Danaus is still young.” I replied impassively. After the madman’s explosion of hatred, Tyler’s destruction had left both my family and Danaus’s in ruins. Yet, the other man was much more scarred than I was –much more in pain than Jon and I would ever be.

“We’re looking out for him too.” Jeremy spoke up, the same sad tone of voice as his partner’s. “But we are worried about you.”

“You have no needs to be, but I thank you for your concerns.” I shut them up quickly, not wanting to dwell on how they –two skilled cons –were trying to convince me that they cared sincerely, honestly with their hearts for me. I knew better than trust that.

Shifting my cane from one hand to the other, I reached in my pocket for the pair of rings, withdrawing them for both Hayley and Jeremy to see. I wasn’t about to ask why Jeremy was here –for I knew the man to be as protective over Hayden as his wife was. Hayley took one from my palm, Jeremy took the other and both of them studied it with sharp eyes, exchanging the rings quickly.

“This is Hayden’s.” Jeremy commented, looking up. “I recognize the imprint of Kristen’s name. This is the real thing.”

I nodded once.

“He gave it to me to find Kristen. I found the other one very much coincidentally. I lifted that off a bag from a robber just a week ago.” I informed passively, while Hayley studied the ring belonging to Kristen carefully, as if trying to find some sort of clue.

“Then she is still alive?” She asked, a light coming to her eyes. The only reason I had asked to meet them before I passed the information on to Hayden was because I had given Hayley the promise that she could decide the circumstance in which the results were made to him –in return for a favor. I would still have to tell him the results, but she could decide how and when.

“I have no more leads on that. I have narrowed it down that Kristen moved down to Florida for the majority of the years, but that is a large area to cover. Assuming she retains her surname ‘Hurst’, I have fifty names to go through. Half of them belong to dead people.”

“So we have 50% of finding Hayden’s long-lost lover?” Jeremy chanced, but I shook my head.

“She could have changed a surname. She, with background knowledge of being a con, could have doctored with the official records. I’m currently looking out for a woman with the surname Hurst who moved into the area with a one-week old daughter.”

“That is a needle in a haystack.” Hayley commented, returning the rings back to my waiting palm. The light of delight had faded away quickly, clouded by the harshness of reality.

“My contacts have closed their range on a few women by that description. I have ten women who fit that description vaguely. Three of them are of Kristen’s exact age when they moved in. Two of them are dead. One of them married.” I informed. The facts seemed bleak, but it remained a fact that we were still going very much on assumptions.

“You still have a long way to go, Elxa. We are assuming that she moved to Florida immediately after leaving Hayden.” Hayley was thinking along the same lines as me, frowning.

“I’ve had some contacts within her family. They said Kristen never approached them after she told them she was pregnant with Hayden’s child. If she did go anywhere else after leaving Hayden, she did not stay with her family. She is a con –she knows where to hide, especially from Hayden.”

Jeremy nodded in agreement, and I spied a quick look passed to his wife. They definitely had their own problems in their relationship, but nothing was said as Hayley shot a quick glare back to her husband, then turned back to me as if nothing had happened. I offered no comment.

“If only Hayden asked for your help earlier, Elxa.” Hayley sighed, and I nodded impassively.

“It would have made the search much easier.”

“Still, we thank you for your help. What you’re doing; you’re saving Hayden from a dark place. Even if Kristen and their daughter are gone, it’ll give him closure to know.”

“How would you let him know of this knowledge?” I inquired, for it had been the purpose behind this meeting, after all. Getting Hayley and Jeremy down to Miami from New York hadn’t been easy, but having them know it was about their baby brother Hayden was the secret weapon in making them rush down.

“Just tell him as it is, Elxa. He trusts you and your abilities. He trusts you not to lie to him, so don’t lose his faith in you. I don’t know what my Hayden and I can ever do to thank you, even after all that has happened.” Hayley expressed sincerely, and for a short, surprising moment –I found that she meant every word.

Still, it was the word of a conwoman, and nothing the sort of a prelude to my placing of trust in her. No, even if she was sincere, she could change her heart and sing a second tune in a second. I have seen the cold ruthlessness of the only woman on The Circle, the readiness to weigh her options and give up all she had to get what she wanted. This was a woman unafraid to gamble, unafraid to lose, unafraid to show.

“I will contact Hayden soon.” I replied flatly, and, with one last look longingly at the urns hidden behind its protective cover, I turned away and began to walk slowly.

The clicks of my cane on the marble floor came back, sharper than ever. Hayley and Jeremy offered no words at the obvious injury, watching me leave.

Hayley was right. I was saving Hayden from a dark place. It felt good.

But who would ever be there to save me from my dark place?