The Mystery of Hector Forrest
Chapter Four

November 22nd, 1975

The sound of his voice and the selection of his words, seemed to spark something inside of my brain. There was a familiar air around Hector Forrest, as if I had known him all my life.

"I'm Rosie," I muttered, eyes scanning his every move.

The muscles just below his shirt, flexing as he moved them absentmindedly. Upon noticing the prominent veins in his arms, I vaguely wondered if he was dehydrated or pumped full of too much liquid.

I needed to know why I felt safe in his presence.

The blonde strands in his hair stuck to his forehead from his sleep and the sweat that had formed. His eyes were curious and full of amusement.

He was amused by my scan of him.

"Nice to meet you, Rosie," Hector smirked, shaking his head slightly.

It was almost as if he was scanning me too by the twinkle in his eyes.

"Not from around here, are ya?"

"Nope, is it that obvious?"

It wasn't long before he was laughing,

It then struck me by the pure sound of his laugh, that I knew exactly where this guy was from. I remembered a black and white tape of my mother, my uncle Leon and some strange friend of theirs.

Lounging on the couches in the old, two story house on the west side of Maple Park. It had an evergreen tree that grew in the front lawn which blossomed all year round.

The twin's heights over the years were etched in the tree's trunk, proving Leon to be the tallest twin to date.

The front door had a chip on the bottom of it due to Leon kicking it barely a week ago in a fit of anger.

Two seventeen year olds lounged on the couch in their basement. Leon was rocking the guitar while Lilian sang beautifully.

They were practicing for that year's talent contest for the town's annual festival.

Behind the camera, stood a boy, that's laugh was imprinted into the video, he had been shooting, for many years to come.

I never knew his name but my uncle said that it didn't matter. It was just one of their high school friends. 

Maybe he was related to the guy on the tape.

"It shows by your sheer amazement at the idea of a well functioning infirmary and the rebellious acts of getting drunk on school grounds," clipped back Hector, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I was only admiring the eighteenth century themed hospital."

"I'm sorry the what?"

"I love that Maple Park has kept its original design of this building, without changing anything. It would probably be considered a heritage building now."

Hector's eyes widened a little, scaring me just a tiny bit. He seemed surprised and then the emotion left as soon as I had seen it. His eyes became hard to read and I struggled for a moment before giving up.

"It wasn't built that long ago," he replied, slowly, as if trying to decipher my comment all together.

"So you guys have been without a hospital for how many years?" I wondered, aloud, feeling dread swarm around in my stomach.

I was getting sicker the more we talked.

Something was wrong.

Hector sat up, staring at me intently.

"Did you hit your head when you collapsed? I think you might have a concussion."

I blinked rapidly before shaking my head with a small, hollow laugh.

"I'm sure I'm fine, Hector, really. There's no need to fuss over me," came my uncertain mumble.

The moment he smiled, showing his pearly whites, I remembered something else as if a light bulb had been switched on in my brain.

My uncle had photos hidden up in the attic of their high school days. There were photos nestled among the tape I had loved so much of my mother.

I remember seeing one photo of three people smiling and facing the camera.

It was the only photo with a blonde, of Caucasian descent, posing with my mother and uncle. He had big, forest-green eyes. He looked blissfully happy.

I had envied him back in the days.

Whenever I asked my uncle Leon who the guy was, he always got uncomfortable and refused to answer the question properly. He was avoiding it, as if answering it would open up its own can of worms.

He was a secret, at least that's how my uncle made it out to be.

I was so fascinated by the picture because I knew, despite my uncle telling me he was just an old friend of theirs and nobody important, I knew better.

I had known better - and today, only proves it so.

Hector Forrest was the boy in the picture.

Clear as day.