Lord, Grant Me The Freedom…
Part 10
"Liberty is
slow fruit. It is never cheap; it is made difficult because freedom is the
accomplishment and perfectness of man."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
34 weeks to
go.
Jarod
couldn't help wondering, as the days slipped slowly past, if anyone was missing
him, anyone at all. He was keeping busy and there was no doubt that it was
helping the days to slip by. The first few weeks had seemed to drag, until the
movements of the clock were barely perceptible. Now, with each hour having a
designated activity, Jarod had less time to dwell on his situation. That all
changed at night.
The nights,
often times when Jarod had been awake and searching for answers to certain
situations, now stretched ahead as empty voids, to be filled with the memories
of people and places he had once enjoyed. The memories played in his mind like
a tune, one following another and always in the same sequence. He consciously
excluded from this pattern several people - his mother and father, Emily,
Sydney and Miss Parker.
He was still
unable to rid himself of the dread that they might learn what he had been doing
and reject him, despite his innocence, forever. The thought of being without
any of them was more than he felt he could bear. As the faces trailed through
his mind, one suddenly sprang to the fore, one he had not thought of before.
Kyle.
Suddenly his
brother's words came back with astonishing clarity. Don't tell them what I became. Now, for the first time, Jarod
understood the hidden meaning in that sentence. His brother's fear then had
been the same as Jarod's now - the terror of abandonment and the anxiety of
being completely and undeniably alone. The sense of understanding, underpinned
by that longing for companionship, brought tears to Jarod's eyes; tears which
he brushed away with an impatient hand. Suddenly the knowledge of one important
fact seemed to shine through into the sudden despair. This imprisonment would,
one day, reach an end. Unlike the time trapped within the Centre, the period
away from freedom would, eventually, reach a climax and he would be able to
walk in the world again.
Miss Parker
struggled to fight against the tears that flowed as the scene came to life
before her eyes. She told herself that it was natural she should cry and that
no one would be ashamed of tears as they watched their father mown down. But
still she struggled to maintain composure in front of the others who watched
with her. It was the first time in months that she and Sydney had sat in a room
together and, even now, there were no words spoken.
In the weeks
before the massacre in Washington, she had realized he blamed her for Jarod's
lack of contact and, considering their final conversation; she had blamed
herself as well. It had been difficult for her to realize how much Sydney was
hurting from the disappearance, being too caught up in herself to see it, but
every so often an expression came out that revealed his pain, showing it to be
even deeper than hers. She had to admit that it was fair enough - the two had
always been close and, even as a child, she had seen it. There could have been
no other reason for Jarod to stay in contact with the Centre, jeopardizing his
own freedom, unless there was a powerful emotional connection.
Raines
watched the concealed emotion with a smirk. The death of the chairman seemed to
be causing some reaction, which made a change from the state in which the woman
had been for the past few weeks. He had had hopes that the circumstance, over
which he had expressed his regret, would prompt the woman to some response and
it appeared that his belief was now justified. He sat back in the chair and
felt it creak slightly beneath him. It couldn't be denied that this chair was
certainly more comfortable than his old one. In fact the whole office was
preferable and he wondered, as he watched the scene progress on the screen in
front of him, why he had let his fellow Centre operative have it for so long.
He looked
over to the figure in the corner, who had also been watching the scene on
another monitor, and, after carefully taking a deep breath, spoke.
"This
has been very successful."
The other
figure, seated half in shadow, laughed softly. His blue eyes glowed and his
white teeth reflected the sparse light. Linking his hands, he stretched his
fingers and groaned slightly as he felt muscles stretch across his shoulders
before resettling the glove on his left hand.
"Indeed
it has. Within a week or two, we should have no trouble convincing her to
abandon the search for Jarod in exchange for more - beneficial
activities."
He noted the
wrinkle of concern that appeared on Raines' face the mention of the Pretender.
"Don't worry. I'll find him. Without Miss Parker's concerns and Sydney's
hesitations, this will move a lot faster."
"You'll
need to find him, otherwise you're future here might be limited."
The figure
stood up and, despite the fact that his face remained in the shadow, his eyes
gleamed strongly. "Are you threatening me, Raines?
Because I
have plenty of support, and yours appears to be mysteriously dying off. This is
an arrangement of convenience, you know it as well as I do. But, once this is
over, only one of us will have a future here."