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Chapter Six

-October 20th, 2006-
891 Riverside Drive
2:10 am


The house was silent and even the distant sound of the pipes can no longer be heard. Constance flipped through her diary, lingering over memories she only too vividly remember. The lacey nightgown felt like a tent on her body. Constance reached down and touched her belly tenderly. She was still soft, but she was healing with unnatural speed. The scare from the C-section, already fully closed, was only a raw line. The muscles around her belly tighten back almost where they had been for a century.

For the first time in a long time Constance felt the passage of time and how little it had meant to her before. She rolled onto her side, stretching her arm over the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold and smooth. It smelt of her perfume and nothing else. There was none of the subtle smells she had come to know so well; black Russian tea, with the sour undertone of masculine perspiration.

She could almost feel his arms around her as they would kiss. The touch of his lips hungrily sealed over hers; the taste of him, as he swept his tongue into her mouth; bitter, sweet, and completely unique. Her thoughts drove Constance from her bed. She was restless and she had to go for a walk.

The tunnels and tiny pathways are still exactly the same as she remembers. She wandered to the library and entered her old world. The world she treasured before Diogenes taught her to wake up. Constance slowly ran her fingers across the spines of the ancient volumes she had clung to. Suddenly she felt the need of human companionship, or simply just to see another human being.

Stepping behind another passage, Constance made her way into a passage she has not used in years. She still remembers going down the tunnel as a child, so long ago. But it was no longer Father’s bedroom, it now belongs to Aloysius.

The ornate column slid noiselessly aside. Constance walked into the bedroom without sound. Her breathing was even and her eyes fell upon Aloysius' sleeping form. His hands were folded across his bare chest; his breathing so shallow that he almost seemed dead. The pale light that came from open sliver of the en suite bathroom reflected his marble like paleness in perfect detail.

Constance stood there rooted to the ground, admiring him and comparing him. They were indeed so much alike. Aloysius was just as sculpted as his brother, only his frame was smaller. There was almost perfect definition in the muscles of his shoulders and arms; barely any fat on the crisscrossing bands on his abdomen. Dark covers shielded his low half from view.

A curious and protectiveness sneaked into Constance as she studied the many scares that marred the milk like complexion. She wanted to touch them, she wondered if they still hurt. Although she knew most of their origin, she couldn’t help herself from wondering. She wondered if Aloysius had other injuries that she knew nothing about, and where they are located. Her arms suddenly felt achingly empty, but in her heart she only saw Diogenes, and the thought of holding anyone but him became painful.



-October 21st, 2006-
Savannah Georgia
Dobbins Mansion Garden


The rectangular pond in the center of the backyard was brimming with life. Red and gold Koi swam among the freshly planted water lilies. Light purple blooms with a speckled yellow center blossomed in the dawning sunlight. Birds chirped in the background and the morning dew slowly evaporated from the vegetation.

The air was warm against his skin as light illuminated the colorless landscape. Diogenes meticulously moved through his forms and held still in an extremely difficult position. His lean form extended to the maximum length and posed for a perfect stillness.

As his shadow moved with the rising sun Diogenes silently tracked the time. He folded back into himself before standing again. Long legs made for even longer strides as he entered the mansion dew onto the marble floor with his bare feet.

Breakfast was still warm sitting in a wicker basket just outside the front door. Neat little trays of delicately prepared food appeared out onto the counters. A small box of Russian black tea joined the trays from the cabinets, along with an assortment of honey sticks.

An hour later Diogenes, dressed in his brother’s form, sat in the conservatory with Viola and Great Aunt Cornelia, having breakfast. Viola smiled vapidly toward Diogenes, copying his mannerism and delicate eating habits. Aunt Cornelia furrowed her bow as she inhaled the deep aroma of the black tea.

“Aloysius, I am pleasantly surprised you choose this tea. It is superb. I always remembered you had favored Green Tea. The oriental stuff your little friend introduced to you.” She looked at him between tiny bites of the strawberry tart.

“Oh but I knew you would prefer this. I wanted to make sure your home coming was as comfortable as possible.” He smiled at her innocently, and then turned to Viola, patting her leg.

“I should have known you’d be so thoughtful. I had always said you needed a nice quite girl.” Aunt Cornelia spoke, nodding towards Viola.

“I’m glad you like my new brid, Aunt. I’m just sorry I can’t stay longer. Certain things at work are not going well and I must attend.” Diogenes bowed his head apologetically.

“Oh its quite alright, Aloysius. I’m just happy to be of help to you. It’s so thrilling to be working again after so many years. But how long will you be gone this time? ”

“I would say no more then a week. I’m tracking down a witness that has eluded me for a while.” A slightly crooked smirk pulled up a corner of his mouth.



-October 21st, 2006-
Mid afternoon
New Orleans Botanical Garden


The large glass panels of the historical conservatory were still being replaced and cleaned. Dried leaves stuck in the metal frame work crunched under foot as they formed into piles on the path below. A blue Jeep Cherokee pulled carefully to the back side of the building filled with potted Gardenias. The driver stepped out, pushing her bangs away from her eyes.

The slightly mousy features were tanned by the sun and her curly ginger red hair glistened somewhat unnaturally bright. Margo squinted at the bright noon sun, damning the heat silently in her mind. The warm fall annoyed Margo, reminding her of the tranquil crispness of autumn in New York. She was having a tough time sticking to her new life. It was almost a relief that her mother was now living in Paris so far away.

So many things had brought her down to a new beginning and she was not sure how to start again sometimes. Aloysius had set her up with a new life after her slow recovery. He set her up with the restoration job in New Orleans after the hurricane. It is not a bad like but she missed the intricacy of her work at the museum.

The ground was soft from the rain that morning making it even easier for the jeans to pick up. By the time her new sponsor arrived all the Gardenias were planted. Unfortunately dirt from the flower bed made Margo’s outfit less then spotless.

Her new sponsor was supposed to be an English man who also donated to the famous Eden project near London. She was expecting a properly conservative that would had aged far more inside then out. But she was force to greet a surprisingly handsome man with oddly familiar features and more fashion sense then her. She felt suddenly awkward in her mud splattered ensemble.

Edward Armstrong appeared to be a young man in his late 30s with an even tan and shoulder length dark brown hair. His eyes were a deep sea blue set intensely in a frame of thick lashes. His lengthy lean frame was clearly visible under a fitted blue dress shirt open at the collar. Neatly creased stonewashed jeans complete with a brow belt by Hugo Boss finished the outfit.

Diogenes looked at Margo with amusement. She looked different from how he remembered her. The surprise in her expression told him she does not recognize him and his disguise had a pleasing effect.

“Mr. Armstrong, I’m so glad you came.” Margo smiled broadly, extracting her hand from a glove offering it in a handshake.

“A pleasure to have come, it is a very pleasant surprise to find you working.” He took her hand, giving it a gentle shake. His voice spoke in a deep silky English accent.

Margo involuntarily flinched from the sound of his voice. She had a sudden sensation that could not be explained. It was neither good nor bad, simply odd. Like something had struck a chord in her, but no memory was attached. The silken voice spoke again and Margo couldn’t help herself as she stared, gawking rudely, at its owner.

“I was simply trying to say that most people who lead a project like this do not spend much time in the dirty where the real work is.” An almost shy smile appeared before he looked away.

Catching herself, Margo forced a response. “I’m only trying to direct all the money where it’s needed most. The surrounding area contained many rare plants that need to be carefully cultivated. Besides a little time in the dirt is good for everyone.”

“So glad we both see so much value of bring back all the natural plant life. Environmentally they will be the most important part of the local eco system.” Reaching into his pocket Diogenes produced a small packet of seed bulbs. “I brought these for you. They were originally grown in the gazing pool in front. My research showed that they used to belong to the bayou around but were killed off by water pollution.”

Margo took the seed packed, looking at the odd seed bulbs. They were smaller then the most of the other Nymphea specimens she’s see in the past. A distinct sweetness emanated from the bulbs, filling her nostrils. The smell was pleasant and had a strange relaxing effect, smoothing out her sharpened senses.

“I brought these for you from my personal collection.”

The velvety resonance of his voice tickled her ear drums. Margo was surprised to find him standing behind her looking over her shoulder. His mouth inches away from her ear.

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