Discovered (20 page)

Issy threw her arms
around Ben and kissed him quickly on the lips then jogged over to Joey and
knelt down beside him. “Are you in there?” she asked the lifeless young man,
her voice almost bristling with glee. When she received no reply, she crawled
over to Jay and tapped on his cheek. “Jay,” she called. “Wakey uppey. Come on
Arthur, wake up and smell the coffee, brother.”

Layla couldn’t come
to grips with what Issy was doing. She sat gaping at the girl, feeling extreme exasperation
at such cold and inappropriate behavior.

“Issy,” Ben called
out. When Issy looked in her husband’s direction, Ben nodded his head toward
Layla. “Mi amor, you’re scaring her,” he said.

Layla glared back
and forth between them both, her mind racing to come to terms with what was
going on.

Ben walked without
even a slight limp over to Issy and looked down at Jay. And then to Layla’s
relief and utter astonishment, Jay opened his eyes and coughed. She felt hope
wash over her, thinking that Jay might just be okay. But what she noticed from
the side of her eye caused her to forget Jay for a brief second and focus on
Joey.

Joey was pushing
himself up onto his elbows. When he was seated upright, he opened his shirt,
revealing his wound, then, to Layla’s complete horror, he put the first two
fingers of his left hand next to the wound, and the first two fingers of his
right on the other side, and began to squeeze into his flesh. She watched,
thunderstruck, as the bullet popped out of the hole in Joey’s chest and onto
the ground. As she sat trying to comprehend what on earth was going on, she saw
that the bleeding had stopped and that the wound on Joey’s chest was healing,
the skin knitting together right before her eyes.

“Ah, you’re back
from the dead,” Ben called over to him, not the slightest bit shocked that Joey
was alive after taking a direct hit in the chest from a bullet.

Joey looked up, and
a broad smile graced his face. “That…was…AWESOME!” he bellowed. “Oh, man, did
you guys get how cool that was, how we were all on the same page, figured out
the plan with no communication necessary. That’s what happens when you spend so
much time around the same people, you just know what they’re thinking and—”

“No!” Issy said
firmly, crawling back over to Joey. “It was not awesome! It was so far past not
awesome. You could have been killed. What on earth were you guys thinking?”

“We had to take the
chance,” Joey said defensively. “Those idiots were not going to stop until
someone was dead anyway.”

“He’s right, mi
amor,” Ben added. “What other choice did we have?”

Layla blinked
rapidly, too confused to even begin trying to make sense of what was going on.
She pinched her cheek to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

Jay threw his arm
over his eyes but didn’t make any move to sit up.

Issy looked at Jay
momentarily, her eyes narrowing, then she turned back to her husband. “I guess
the cat’s well and truly out of the bag now,” she said.

“Poor Jay,” Ben
answered with a chuckle. “He’s going to have some
splaining
to do.”

Layla looked back
down at Jay and noticed that the bullet that had been pumped into his abdomen
was rolling off his body onto the grass and his wound, like Joey’s, was knitting
closed right before her eyes.

“What the hell is
going on here?” she moaned.

Jay pushed himself
up quickly and reached out for her, but she backed away. “Layla,” he moaned,
looking completely healthy but remorseful.

“Will someone tell
me what just happened?” she yelled.

Jay let out a loud
sigh and turned to Layla. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“No kidding!” she
blurted out.

“Let’s get into the
house, and I’ll explain everything,” he said pleadingly.

As they walked
toward the parked car, Layla’s mind raced all over the place, trying to come to
terms with how bullets just pop out of wounded bodies, and skin closes up in a
matter of seconds. All she could conclude was that whatever Jay and the others
were working on must have been at the back of the miraculous recoveries. But
hadn’t they told her that the serum was nowhere near finished?

“What should we do
about Manuel?” Ben asked when he was seated behind the wheel of the blue SUV.

“Call the police
and claim self-defense,” Joey suggested. “They’re going to trace the bullets in
the body to your gun anyway.”

“We can’t risk an
investigation,” Issy replied.

“We’re a few miles
from your house, and he lives in Queens,” Joey responded. “You fired him; he
came to your home to get revenge…”

Ben nodded and
pulled out his cell reluctantly. “They’re on their way,” he said when he’d hung
up.

When the police
arrived, they spoke with Ben mostly, but asked everyone else present to give a
report while Layla was told to remain in the car. Obviously, she was too shaken
by the ordeal to give a proper account of the details. She had no idea what
excuse they had given for their bloody clothes, and didn’t really care. She was
too freaked out and shaken to care about anything at that particular moment.

When the police were
done with them, they were told to go home and stay home until they were
contacted for further questioning.

Layla sat in a
thick daze as they surrounded her in the SUV, and Ben turned the keys in the ignition.

They arrived
moments later at a tall wrought-iron security fence. Ben punched a code into
the keypad to the side. The gates floated backward, allowing them entry onto a
cobblestone driveway with moss growing strategically and stylishly between the
cracks. They drove up to the tutor-style mansion of sharply pitched roofs
and thick timber surrounding a combination of bricks and stones.
Ivy-draped arbors flanked both sides of the structure.  

Issy unlocked the
front door and ushered Layla into a foyer of gleaming hardwood floors, and a
twisting staircase adorned with oak railings and scrolled wrought-iron
balusters in old-world copper tones.

“The first door on
the left is the guest room with private bathroom,” Issy said, gesturing up the
stairs. “You can go wash up there, and I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

“Thank you,” Layla
replied quietly. She walked up the stairs still in a stupor, caught between
trying to understand what she’d just witnessed and trying very hard to bury the
thought all together.

She felt a hand
grab onto hers and turned slowly. Jay stood a few steps behind her, his face
twisted with worry. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“I don’t really
know,” she answered truthfully. Jay walked up to stand next to her. “I thought
you were dead…and then…” she trailed off, too baffled to find the correct
words. She shook her head then felt tears well up at the memory of him lying on
his stomach obviously dead, or so she thought at the time. She threw her arms
around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, letting the tears flow
easily.

“It’s alright,” he
cooed, rubbing her back. “It’s going to be alright, Layla.”

“I thought you were
dead,” she said again through heavy sobs. “And I don’t understand what
happened.”

“I’m going to
explain everything to you,” he vowed. “I’m going to change out of these bloody
clothes, then we’ll have a long talk, okay?”

She pulled away,
nodding and wiping her eyes.

“I’ll see you
downstairs shortly,” he promised.

She nodded again.

She walked through the
first door on the left, into a large room that
was awash
in a sea of soft pinks and beige, with a four-poster bed and dresser, intricate
paneling, and antique lamps.

She walked over to the bay window
and knelt on the pink flowered window bench to stare out at the Atlantic Ocean
swishing gently against the shore. There were no gardens at the back of this
house. The back door opened up right onto the beach and was nestled in a groove
in the shoreline, making
it look as though
it was on its own tiny peninsula.

She sighed and made
her way to the bathroom to clean up.

After throwing water
over her face, she heard a knock on the door and went back into the bedroom to
open it.

 Issy stood outside holding
a pair of black lounge pants and a long gauze shirt. She handed the tiny bundle
of clothing to Layla and asked her to join them in the living room when she was
ready.

Layla changed quickly
and sat back down on the window bench to look out at the sea once more,
reflecting on the last five days. She realized that she’d come to consider
Issy, Ben and Joey friends, and as far as Jay was concerned, well, she loved
him, plain and simple. She had tried to fight the feeling for so long, but
there was no denying that somewhere in the last few days her shield had come
down completely. For good or bad, she loved him.

But what were they up
to? What had they invented that could make deadly bullets pop out of bodies?
All of them had been so quiet on the drive to Issy and Ben’s, as though they
were all deep in thought, anticipation hanging thick between them.

Sighing, she stood up
and made her way to the door, deciding that it was best to get the explanation
over with as soon as possible.

 She walked down the
stairs into the foyer and followed the hushed, serious voices into Issy and
Ben’s living room.

Jay turned around
when she entered and smiled sadly, his wet hair pushed back off his face,
wearing faded blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt that looked amazing on his
perfect chest. Layla felt weakened at the sight of him, despite the more
pressing matters.

He gestured for
Layla to sit on the couch.

He jogged out of
the room but returned a second later carrying a kitchen chair that he angled to
face her.  He sat down on the chair and took  both her hands in his then looked
deep into her eyes while Issy, Joey and Ben sat around, quietly observing the
scene before them.

After a moment of
heavy silence, Layla was growing impatient. “What is it?” she asked. “What is
going on here?”

Jay sighed. “There’s
something else that I didn’t tell you,” he admitted, “something that we’ve
never told anyone.”

Jay

Jay felt his heart
race faster. This was something he’d never anticipated telling anyone before.
But Layla was worth it. Regardless of the outcome of today, he cared about her
too much to keep anything back anymore.

He wanted to be
exposed for once in his life, to be completely visible, and he wanted Layla to
be the one to see him in his entirety. Irrespective of how she felt after he
was finished telling her everything, he wanted her to be the one to know it, to
see him for who he truly was.

“I’d like to begin
this story in the fifteenth century,” he said, looking up into Layla’s eyes to
gauge her reaction.

“Why?” she asked
suspiciously. “I know that most of the rich families in this country can trace
their ancestors back to the Mayflower, or in your case, years before that,
obviously, but is it really necessary?”

“It is,” he
answered bluntly.

“Okay,” Layla
replied, holding up her hands in defeat.

Jay reached up and
took her hands again, resting them on his knees. “In the latter part of the
fifteenth century, in the eastern regions of Spain, there lived a young man by
the name of Fernando,” he began. “Fernando was a nobleman, lord of his estate
and manner. He was also a distant relative of King Ferdinand of Aragon and her
majesty Queen Isabella, and had been invited to their court on at least two
occasions.”

Layla nodded, still
looking mildly baffled.

“Fernando had a
profound love for medicine and as a boy he trained with a local surgeon.
Although it was not proper for a man of his position to practice on a regular
basis, Fernando would often go out into the villages and perform surgeries from
time to time. It was on one of these occasions that he met a beautiful girl by
the name of Lucia de Tovar. He took her as his bride in the year 1490.”

Layla narrowed her
eyes, the name Lucia eliciting recognition. She nodded again, a signal for Jay
to continue.

“The union between
Fernando and Lucia was special in the sense that they truly loved one another,
which was a rare occurrence in marriages of those days,” Jay explained. “Marriages
were typically nothing more than arrangements used between families to better
their social status or protect their wealth.

“Lucia was a humble woman, and
while she loved her husband very much, she didn’t care for all the fanfare of being
a nobleman’s wife.  She preferred to spend her days in her vast gardens,
content to be outdoors surrounded by nature and solitude. A devout Catholic,
Lucia vowed to live her life as best as she could in the fashion of her lord
and savior, Jesus Christ. She was an uncommonly kind person, and the irony of
the cruelty performed in the name of Jesus Christ, at that time, did not go
unnoticed by her. Lucia believed that all men and women, along with animals,
were precious in God’s eyes, so she abhorred cruelty of any kind.

“A year after their
marriage, Fernando performed an emergency surgery on a Portuguese business
merchant who was stabbed by a local thug over a business dispute. Two months
later, the Portuguese man returned to the area to thank Fernando for saving his
life. By way of a gift, he presented Fernando with two slaves—a male and a
female. Unbeknownst to Fernando at the time, the Portuguese man was a leading
merchant in the African slave trade in Spain.”

Jay noticed Layla
wince at the mention of slavery.

He nodded to let
her know he agreed before continuing. “Lucia was appalled by the gesture. She
was so deeply disturbed by the horrendous practice of slavery; it was against
every principle that her Lord had preached. Realizing that to turn these two
poor people out into the street would mean death or recapture, she took them in
and informed her husband that they would be paid for their employ like the rest
of their staff.

“As it turned out,
the male, Yusuf, was an educated man and spoke fluent Spanish. He explained
that he and the woman, Miata, were married, and like Fernando and Lucia, they were
very much in love even though their union had been arranged. Yusuf also came
from a high standing family, but his home had been burned to the ground during a
skirmish with Spanish soldiers. It was on that day that he and his wife were
captured and forced onto a ship for Spain.

“Lucia was overcome
with pity for the couple and begged Fernando to give them a vacant cottage that
was part of his manner. It was by no means an ideal situation for Yusuf and
Miata, but they realized that if they even had a home to return to, to attempt
a journey there would probably be nothing short of suicide. And if they were
recaptured, they would more than likely be separated forever, so they
reluctantly settled in as best they could and were granted the freedom to make
their way around the estate as they wished. But on the occasions that they
ventured outside the estate and into the villages, they had to be escorted by a
member of the household under the ruse that they were slaves helping to run an
errand.

“As time went on,
Miata began to trust Lucia, and a friendship was formed between the two women.  She
and Lucia were able to communicate thanks to the Spanish that Miata had picked
up from her husband. It turned out that both women had something else in common:
they were both desperate to have children, but both had been unsuccessful in
that regard. It broke Lucia’s heart to think that she would never have children
of her own, and so she felt equally for Miata.

“One autumn, two
years later, Yusuf fell ill with influenza, a particularly deadly strain that
year. He didn’t live long enough to hear the news that his wife was finally
pregnant. Devastated, Miata suffered a broken heart so severe that she lost her
will to live. She dreaded bringing her child into a world that was hostel
against her people and without even a father to lean on. Fernando tended to her
constantly, but her health finally began to deteriorate. When it came time for
Miata to deliver her child, her son was born normally, but to Fernando’s
surprise, there was another child behind. Miata had been carrying twins. The second
child was stuck in breech position and had to be cut from her. With her health
already failing, Miata only lived long enough to hold her son and daughter in
her arms before passing away. 

“Lucia took the
children to the nursery that she had prepared for a child who never came, and
cared for them night and day. As the days and weeks went by, she fell in love
with the babies and informed her husband that she would be raising them as her
own. Against his reservations that the children would never be accepted in
their society, given the constant animosity between the Spanish and the Moors,
Fernando gave in to her request, understanding how she suffered over not having
children of her own. Lucia tried to console his fears by explaining that it was
the right thing to do, and she felt sure that God would send them a miracle by
providing a way for the twins to lead a normal adult life in their world. In
the meantime, the twins were nestled away in the security of the estate, far
away from prying eyes.  Lucia named the boy Yusuf after his father, and the
girl she named Isabella after the queen.

“As is often the
case, once her mind was occupied with doting on the twins and off her
desperation to bear her own child, Lucia found out that she was pregnant when
the twins were around eight months old.

“Around the same
time, one of her chambermaids, an unmarried girl of fourteen named Maria Ortiz,
confided in Lucia that she was also with child. Lucia’s kindness and lack of
judgment was legendary among the household employees, so Maria, having nowhere
else to turn, went to Lucia for help. Maria explained that she also worked at a
local inn on occasions and had met a yellow-haired boy from one of the northern
countries of the continent.  She and this boy had a brief affair, but he was
soon called back home, and Maria doubted she’d ever see or hear from him again.
Knowing how this poor girl would have been ostracized by society for being in
that condition and without a husband, Lucia made Maria her lady-in-waiting and
kept Maria employed to her private rooms only. She dressed Maria in baggy
clothing to keep her condition secret.

“One month before
Lucia gave birth to her child, Maria gave birth to a son she named Sebastian.
Lucia kept Sebastian in the nursery with the twins, and Maria was repositioned
to the nursery so that she could spend all her time with Sebastian, with no one
the wiser.

“On August 24
^th
,
1495, Lucia gave birth to a son she named Arturo after her father. At that
point, Lucia’s little group of babies needed around the clock nurses even
though Lucia and Maria spent most of their days with the infants.

“As the years went
on, these four children grew to be inseparable, and when it came time for
Arturo to receive a tutor, Lucia demanded that the other three children be
taught along with him.”

Layla put up her
hands suddenly, an apologetic look gracing her face.  “I’m really sorry to
interrupt you, but if you’re going to tell me about every ancestor you’ve ever
had along with the stories of his or her employees, we’re still going to be
sitting here on Christmas Day.  And as fascinating as the story is, I really don’t
see how it’s relevant.”

Jay pursed his lips
and nodded. He blew out a hard, nervous breath and focused on the beautiful
girl before him.  “Layla…,” he said, staring deep into her eyes. “Lucia was my
mother!”

 “What?” Layla asked,
pulling her head back slightly.

“We are the four
children I’m talking about,” he said matter-of-factly.

She let out one
hard chuckle. “Oh, and you’re Arturo, I take it,” she said sarcastically.

 He nodded. “I was
christened Arturo Juan Fernandez de Valencia,” he said in all seriousness.

“What the hell are
you talking about?” she asked, her expression turning sour.

“This is our
story,” he added.

“Do you expect me
to believe that you’re over five hundred years old?” she asked skeptically. She
looked over to Joey and Issy as though she expected one of them to burst out
laughing at Jay’s joke.

Joey nodded to her
without a hint of pretense on his face. “It’s true,” he piped in. “My real name
is Yusuf, named so for my biological father.” He nodded toward Ben. “He was
christened Sebastian Ortiz.”

Layla suddenly
looked bowled-over. She dug her fingers into her scalp and shook her head.
“That’s just not possible,” she moaned.

Issy walked across
the room and sat next to Layla, placing her hand on the stunned girl’s
shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in, I know, but if you let Jay finish, you might
come to see the reason behind this miracle.”

Layla shook her
head frantically. “I don’t want to hear one more word of this nonsense,” she
said. “Why on earth are you trying to convince me of such an elaborate lie? I’m
not interested in hearing any—”

“Please, Layla,”
Jay asked with a moan in his voice. “Please, I have to finish. I have to make
you believe that what I’m saying is the truth.”

She stared into his
eyes for a long moment as though reading him. “I…you’re serious, aren’t you?”
she asked, having drawn a conclusion from his intense gaze.

“I swear that what
I’m telling you is the truth,” he replied pleadingly. “It’s the main reason I
kept this from you. I knew you’d probably never believe it. But if you’d just
suspend all logic for a little while and let me finish, I know I can convince
you.”

Layla bit on her
thumbnail for a long moment, staring back at him. “Okay,” she said finally.
“Let me have it.”

Jay nodded and smiled,
feeling relief wash over him. “Thank you, Layla,” he said sincerely.

“I’m not saying
that I believe you, just that I’m willing to suspend logic long enough to let
you finish,” she explained.

“I know,” he
replied. “But that’s enough for now.”

“So, go on,” she
requested. “Tell me about your childhood.”

 “We were fortunate
enough to have a very happy and peaceful childhood,” he continued, “but when I
was fourteen, my mother died of consumption. The villages near my father’s
estate had an outbreak of the aliment, and Lucia spent all of her time trying
to care for and bring comfort to those who were afflicted. She finally
contracted the disease and died within a month. It was very hard on all of us,
but most of all, my father. His heart and mind fell apart. He was so devastated
that he took to a life of wine drinking to dull the pain, and not much else. I
never doubted my father’s love for me, but with my mother gone, he basically
gave up on life and had very little dealings with me after that.” 

“That’s so sad,”
Layla said quietly, looking at Jay with pity in her eyes.

He reached up and
ran his knuckle down her lovely cheek, grateful for her reaction. “Thank you,”
he whispered.

She nodded. “Go
on,” she coaxed.

“By 1510, voyages
to the new world were becoming more and more frequent. My father petitioned a
man he had once been acquainted with, a man who had since settle in
San Juan Bautista
and was the owner
of a large tobacco plantation, to take me back to the new world with him as an
employee. I don’t really know the full extent of their deal, but this man had
some ties to very influential people at the time. So at the age of fifteen,
whether I wanted to or not, I was bound for the new world with my new lord,
Juan Carlos Nunez de Boa. I understood my father’s reasons. He knew he wouldn’t
last much longer in his current condition, and the opportunity was too great to
pass up, but more than that, he worried for Yusuf and Isabella, so he arranged
to have Yusuf, Isabella and Sebastian make the journey with me. Again, what
deal he made with this man I can’t say, but by some miracle, Yusuf and Isabella
were left under my care, and no one bothered them on the voyage.”