Chapter 3.7

”No!” I shouted at Mom. “I won’t!”

“Rosie! Yes, you will. You have to.”

“Why?!” I asked, still unable to lower my voice.

Mom gave me a half-smile. “Sweetheart, we don’t know if I can be overpowered by Amos or not.”

“So you want me to lock you up, just in case? I can’t do that, Mom!”

“Rose, if I became violent, what could happen to all these people?”

“What if you give false information?”

“There is that too, but that doesn’t necessitate my being locked up.”

“You can be restrained.”

“And possibly hurt, or worse yet, change the person who is trying to restrain me. No. I need to be locked in a room where I can’t do that.”

I thought about it, and I knew she was right. It was horrible to make that decision, and worse yet, do it. I figured that house arrest would be sufficient, and Daddy said he would sleep in his lab for the time being. Anything to get this over with as quickly as possible.

I couldn't order Paula to lock Mom away. I had to do it myself. Once it was done, I hurried to my home and contacted her. "Are you sensing anything, Mom?"

"Very faintly, Rosie. I don't think I'm fully equipped with all the bots I need yet."

"I'll let you out, Mom."

"No!" It was John at the door to my office. He came over and sat down beside me. "Rose, I know you don't like your Mom locked up. Shit! I don't like it either. Your family was always a second one to me." He paused for a moment, and I saw something that no one, besides me, was ever allowed to see -- raw emotion on his face. Sure, he allowed people to see him laugh, but sorrow and hurt were reserved for me alone. This time, he let Mom see it, and I think she was stunned. He turned to her, and the pain was evident in his voice. "Mom, we're going to end this, and you will be released, I swear."

"I know it. I'm not worried about that." She smiled, but I knew it was forced. She knew she was in a precarious position.

It was late the next day that she told me she was starting to see his memories. It was still only fragments, but it was definitely there. Pearl and I waited for it to be clear enough for her to describe what she was seeing. It took another day, and then she cried out. "I'm in!"

Pearl grabbed my hand, and I was happy that she was there. I couldn't take this alone.

"This doesn't make sense! He's not worried about us having his crystals. It seems that he wants us to have them. He wants us to discover... Oh, my God!"

"What?! Mom!" She was quiet.

"Grandma!"

"Mom!"

Slowly, she focused on me. "Amos told you lots of lies, Sweetie. Yes, he found you attractive, but that's not why he hated John so much."

I wasn't upset about that. I couldn't believe he thought John had brainwashed Perl and me. That just didn't make sense. "Why did he hate him then?"

Mom shook her head, and for a moment, I thought she wasn't going to tell me. "Pearl, would you let me talk to your mother privately for a moment?"

I nodded to Pearl, and she stood uncertainly. I was uncertain too, but I thought this might be important.

As soon as the door shut, Mom asked me, "Rosie, do you know what super-fecundation twins are?"

I shook my head. What did this have to do with anything?

"Melody Carlson had a set of twins. But she was cheating on George. Super-fecundation twins have different fathers. George was one of the fathers, and Ron Goodwin was the other father."

"You're saying that Amos and John are brothers?!"

"Half brothers, Rosie. Yes." I didn't say anything as it was plain she wanted to say more.

She didn't speak for several minutes, and I couldn't take it anymore. "What aren't you telling me, Mom?"

"Amos did some genealogical work when he was younger. He traced his genes. There was no way Ron Goodwin could be his father. Amos felt, and rightly so that his 'parents' didn't like him very much. I dove through those memories. Even from my perspective as an adult, there was no love shown to him."

"He felt he got the short end of the stick by not going with his father. And he was probably right, although right now, I'm not impressed with George and Melody Carlson."

"Did they know?"

Mom nodded. "He confronted them before he killed them. They knew. The Goodwins didn't."

"Why?" I was having a hard time keeping my voice under control.

"Amos was an albino. They thought he was sickly and didn't want him."

"That can't be right! John wasn't raised that way, Mom! He's not like that!"

"I know he's not, Rosie. Remember that time John got to our house early, and you had to rush up and change?"

I nodded. Of course, I did. You didn't forget things with the crystals.

"While you were upstairs, he told me that you liked Amos, and so did he, but his parents said Amos wasn't a good boy, and not worth a friendship. He said he didn't like his parents saying that, and he would be friends with who he wanted to be. I didn't think much of it. In fact, you were both so young that I pretty much ignored it."

"So you're telling me that Amos was justified? That's what Carla told me! Or rather Amos as Carla!". Suddenly I was glad Mom had me lock her up.

"No, Rosie. I'm not saying that at all."

I eyed her suspiciously. "Then what are you saying?"

"He feels John had the life he would have had. Should have had. You are essential to Amos because he can hurt John by hurting you. You and John both need to keep your distance. Let the others do the work: delegate, Sweetie."

I stood up. I simply had no idea how to deal with this. I needed to talk to someone. I didn't dare speak to John. Not yet. How could I tell my beloved husband that he wasn't the person he thought he was? I didn't consider for a moment that he knew. That didn't fit his character, and he would have told me by now.

I felt horrible. I didn't feel I had anyone to talk to. Finally, I thought of one person I thought I could speak with. I excused myself and left the room. Pearl was waiting in the living room. "Ready for me to come back?" She chirped.

"No, sweetheart, and for the moment, no one enters my office except me."

Pearls eyes got wide, but she didn't argue.

I made my way to Daddy's lab, Marc was busy working on some electronic doohickey when I entered, and I asked him where Daddy was.

“He’s getting some sleep. He’s been working on this almost nonstop.”

“Oh, no!" I exclaimed. "I really needed to talk to him."

“It’s okay, Rosie,” I heard his voice as he stepped out of the back room. He looked very bedraggled. I was sure he wasn’t sleeping very well without Mom. “What’s up?” he asked as he tried to wipe some sleep out of his eyes.

I didn’t really know what to say. I collapsed onto a chair in the corner where Daddy and Mom frequently took breaks when they were working on something together.

“Is it your mom? Is she alright?”

He was starting to get concerned, and I guess my frustration wasn’t helping anything. “She’s alright, Daddy, but she told me something that she’d found in Amos’ memories that is disturbing.”

“I’ll make myself scarce,” Marc said as he exited the lab.

Daddy watched as Marc exited, then asked, “What did she say?”

It came out a garbled mess. “Mom says that John’s mom had twins, and one was Amos, and one was John, but John’s father was actually Amos’ father, and Amos’ father was actually John’s.”

I figured I’d have to repeat myself, but apparently, he was able to decipher what I was saying.

“So the two of them were switched at birth? Was it a hospital mistake, or something else?”

“Mom says that John’s parents knew about it, but that Amos’ parents didn’t.”

He sat down beside me, leaned back, and pulled me into him, something he had done many times when I was a child. For some reason, Daddy never had a problem thinking of me as his daughter instead of a son. "It seems to me, Rosie, that this is the type of thing you'd normally go to your mom about."

“It would depend on what type of counseling I needed,” I told him.

“And what type do you need right now?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Is this the truth? Has she lost control to Amos? If it’s true, how does this affect me?” I paused for a moment as I realized the real question was, “How does it affect John?”

Daddy pulled me in close again. “Is it true? I don’t know, but I can tell you this. It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, come on, Rosie. You’re smarter than that."

I stared at him, and he laughed. "Don't get your tail in a curl, my dear. Let me put it another way. If this is true, is he still the same John you married?"

"Well, of course, but..."

He held up a hand that stopped me. "But what?"

I think I was going on inertia when I said, but. He was right. But what?

I had actually been planning on saying something about who his parents would then be. Why? It made no difference in who John was. I had been married to him for over a millennium and a half. I had been bonded to him for that time. So what difference did it make who his parents were?

I spent the rest of the day wandering around the bays on the upper side. I went over how I had felt regarding my initial feelings about my mother's revelation. Then, I mulled over what Daddy said.

I had been married to John for over a millennium and a half. So what did it matter that knowledge of his parents had changed? He hadn’t -- not in the slightest. So what was I worried about?

I wondered what kind of relationship John would have had with the Goodwins, or for that matter, Amos with the Carlsons. Maybe, if Melody Carlson had not given the wrong child to the Goodwins, none of this would ever have happened.

Then again, maybe this wasn't her fault. Maybe George Carlson was to blame. Perhaps it was him who decided he didn't want his own child. Maybe Melody would have kept Amos, and given up John to Ron Goodwin. A mother's love is something not a lot of men understand. No. I didnt' think that was the case. I think a father's love for a boy is shown in his pride. As a man, he doesn’t dare show the same form of love he would show a girl. I saw what my own father showed to Paul. It was so different than what he showed to Carla and me, but it was clear that he loved Paul as well.

I also saw the love, the pride, that George had for John. It was difficult, if not impossible, to relate that to what Mom had said. Maybe, this confusion on my part was what Amos was intending. Perhaps he wasn't related to John in any way, except through the twists and turns of marriage.

I was back at my home, sitting on the grassy bank by the lake. I had kicked my shoes off and had my feet hanging into the icy water. I kept pulling handfuls of grass and throwing them into the water. The little lake had the appearance of being a mountain stream that formed the lake, then took off from a little creek, so its water was freezing.

I knew that I didn’t want to tell John what Mom had said. At least not right now. That just seemed like it would be more stress than he needed at the moment.

While I was sitting there, I heard footsteps behind me. It was John. He took off his shoes and sat beside me, his feet dangling in the water. He picked up a small, one-handed fishing pole, and handed it to me, then picked up one and cast across the lake. I looked at my rod. It was already baited, as was his custom. He knew I’d be willing to fish, but ever since that time we were kids, he always baited the hook for me.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’d been so worried, and here was John, still being John.

We were the perfect pair fishing together. He was right-handed, and I was left, so we could sit right beside each other and cast without any problem. I sent my line zinging across the water, almost to the other side of the lake. It landed with a plop. The little red and white float bobbed up and down for a couple of minutes.

I didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, John broke the silence. “I hear I have a half brother.” Well, so much for not telling him. Damn you, Daddy!

Again, I didn't answer. “Do you think it’s true?” He asked after a bit.

“I don’t know,” I finally answered.

“Does it matter, Hon?” He asked.

“No,” I told him. “I’ve been thinking about how horrible it must be for you to be related to him that closely,” I lied.

He eyed me for a moment. “That’s pretty good. You’re getting better at lying, but I can still see it.”

I blushed, naturally, as I never could lie to him. I think he knew I was a girl all that time we were growing up. “Okay. Would you believe I was wondering if we’d have gotten together if you’d been raised by the Goodwins?”

“Yeah, I'd believe it." He cast again. "And the answer's yes."

”How can you say that, John? Things would have been so different."

“Sure, they would, but I’d have still loved you.”

“Would you? I wasn’t a girl back then.”

He laughed. “Yes, you were. I wouldn’t have dated you all those years if you hadn’t been.”

I started to laugh, then stopped as I wondered if he really did consider all those outings to be dates. If he did, he got my attention!

“Does it change anything for you, if what Mom said was true?”

“No,” he said simply. “Even if he’s my brother, or rather, half brother, it doesn’t change the fact that he needs to go.”

“But he’s your brother!” I said.

“So, you believe it?" His tone wasn't accusative. I think he really just wondered.

“I really don’t know. Mom didn’t sound like she was lying, but then again, that hardly sounds like your parents.”

He chuckled. “You didn’t live with ‘em.”

I forgot about reeling and turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Dad was always opinionated, and Mom wasn’t the most loving person in the world.”

“That’s not what I saw.”

“Like I said. You didn't live with 'em. You saw what they wanted you to see. I told your mom once that I didn't want to be like 'em. That turned me off just slightly, ya know?"

“Mom told me about that. I was dressed as me, and you got there early. I had to run to change into 'boy mode'."

“Yeah. Saw you hurry away through the window. I liked your hair that way. I almost told you that I knew that day, but I didn’t want to scare you away.”

I stared at him. “You realize that there will be dire consequences if you’re lying!”

He cast once more, then said, "How about we compromise. I'm lying when I say I'm lying."

I giggled and punched his shoulder, then I felt my rod pull. What? “I thought there weren’t fish in this lake!” I exclaimed as I jerked the rod to set the hook.

“There weren’t, but I thought I’d stock it to make things more interesting. Besides, I’ve missed the way you always cooked our ‘date fish’.”

“I would have done something more fancy if I’d known they were ‘date fish’.”

“Well, then I'm glad I didn't tell you."

“Uh-huh," I said as I pulled the trout out of the water. It was a nice looking rainbow trout, about fifteen inches long. I almost hated to cook it. It was the first fish I’d caught in a very long time.

“What’s the limit on this lake?” I asked.

“As many as you can catch, plus one,” he quipped.

“So right now, it's two?" He jerked his line as it pulled away. "Uh, three, I mean?" I quickly amended.

“I’ve re-baited your line. Let's see what it is."

We stayed there, fishing, and just enjoying each other's company for a long time that afternoon and into the evening. I cooked the fish in the simple way I had long ago, and he paid the consequences later that night. Wow! Did he pay!