NUMB by Judy Colella (the best books to read .txt) 📖

With relief Issa crossed the last item off her list. Kyria Johanan’s friend, Kressida Laganos, had volunteered to help with the shopping. A woman who looked quite a bit younger than the Kyria, she had seemed startled when she’d opened her door to Issa’s knock that morning. But then she had welcomed Issa inside, given her some lovely Greek coffee, and helped her plan her shopping route based on the list.

Now, everything obtained, Kressida invited her back to her spacious apartment for lunch.

“I would love that,” said Issa, hoping her next words wouldn’t hurt the woman’s feelings. “But honestly, I need to get back to Paros. There’s something extremely important that I have to do, and I arranged to get a flight back before one o’clock. Please don’t feel offended. I am ever so grateful for your wonderful help today.”

“Offended?” The woman laughed – it was a pleasant, genuine sound. “Don’t be nutty. Of course I’m not. It was an hon…um, a – joy to spend the day with such a nice person! Be sure to give Chara my love will you?”

Issa made herself appear as if she hadn’t caught that Kressida had been about to say “honor,” and gave her a warm handshake. “I will, indeed. How kind you’ve been! I hope some day I can be of help to you, as well!”

Kressida handed over the bags she was carrying, and finding the extra burden only somewhat awkward, Issa hurried away to where she could get a taxi.

Now that was odd, indeed! Why would she consider spending time with me an honor? It’s not like I’ve been in the Kyria’s employ for years and years! But maybe…maybe she knows my mother or something, and I’ve simply forgotten? No, that doesn’t make sense. Issa sighed, readjusting the handles of one of the heavier bags. Grateful that her height made it possible to carry everything without any of the bags dragging on the ground, she reached the taxi stand without incident.

Getting everything checked at the airport was a lot more difficult than getting there, but eventually the porters and flight personnel got it all sorted out and safely put onboard the small plane. Once in her seat, Issa ran a hand through her wavy, short-cropped hair, ruffling it comfortably, then leaned back and closed her eyes. With any luck, she’d get to the house while that doctor was still there.

When at last the cab she hired at the small airport in Paros dropped her off at the Johanan’s, her carefully contained anticipation turned to breathless joy when she saw an unfamiliar car parked in front on the curved driveway. She wasn’t too late! Issa paid the driver, dragged her purchases out of the back seat with her, and hurried to the front door.

Because her hands were full, she pressed the doorbell with one elbow rather than drop everything to get to her key. One of the older housemaids answered and helped her inside.

“Looks like you got everything you were sent for,” the woman noted, peering inside one of the bags.

“I did, and thank goodness! Um, is the doctor still here?”

“Yes – he’s upstairs. I think he – wait.” The maid had begun walking toward the back of the house, intending to help Issa put the kitchen items away, but stopped. “Someone is coming down the stairs. Did you wish to see him for some reason?”

“I had a question for him, yes.” Issa placed the two remaining satchels she was carrying on the long bench against one of the walls in the hallway and went back out to the foyer.

A pudgy, balding man with a beard and wearing what she recognized as an expensive suit reached the bottom step at the same time Issa emerged from the hallway. He headed for the door, his eyes sweeping over and past her, the brevity of his notice making it obvious he wasn’t the sort to stop and make pleasant small-talk.

Determined, Issa cleared her throat. “Excuse me, are you the doctor?” She’d spoken in Greek, not sure of his nationality.

Now he did stop and turned, looking annoyed. “What are you saying, girl?” This demand was in heavily accented English.

“I – I’m so sorry to bother you,” she replied in the same language. “I have a question I was hoping to ask you. May I walk you to your car?”

He started to reply, but then put his head to one side, frowning. “I…who are you?”

“My name is Issa Xenakis. Well, Narkissa.”

“Is it?” He took a step closer and looked up slightly to meet her gaze. “You are a relative of Mr. and Mrs. Johanan?”

“Oh, no. I only work for them.”

He said nothing for a few moments, but continued to stare. Then, almost too low for her to hear, he said, “It couldn’t be! She would never do that to me!”

“Sir?”

“Narkissa, you say?” He nodded. “Yes, please, I will hear your question. Walk with me outside to my car.”

She smiled. “Thank you, sir.” His English had some flaws, but was good enough, Issa believed, for him to understand her request. She opened the front door for him, and then followed him out.

“Tell me, do you know what your name means?” They were at the car when he said this.

“Yes. It’s Greek for ‘sleepiness’ or ‘numbness’. My surname means ‘stranger.’” She shrugged. “Is that significant?” The only reason she asked this was because he was staring at her again, making her suddenly uncomfortable, uncertain.

And then he flashed a smile that was, somehow, one of the most unpleasant expressions she ever remembered seeing. Sly, angry, sour, and all these at the same time. “How long have you worked here, Narkissa?”

She wondered why he hadn’t answered her question. “Not long – a little under three months, I think. My mother tells me I have known this family longer, but I can’t remember. You see, that is what I wished to speak with you about. She told me I have a neurological condition that has left huge gaps in my long-term memory. It gives me terrible headaches from time to time as well, and I was curious to know what it would cost to have you examine me. Perhaps there is a cure for this?”

He was staring again, only this time, there was something else in it. Comprehension, maybe? Satisfaction? “Miss Xenakis, come with me if you would – we can talk over a coffee, yes?”

“Really? Oh! How kind of you!” She glanced back at the house. Kyria Johanan didn’t know she was back, had certainly not been expecting her yet, so she doubted she’d be missed for a little while longer, unless the other maid said something.

“Not at all. Please – get in.” He held the passenger door open, closing it gently after she’d settled herself inside. A moment later he opened the driver-side door and got in. “I know a place, very pleasant, private, where we can speak freely, yes?”

“Um, yes. Where?”

“In town, of course. It is a café near the water.”

She relaxed. “Ah. All right.” It was dawning on her that getting into a car with a complete stranger, even if he was the Johanan’s doctor, was probably not the wisest thing she’d ever done. And that weird smile…

“What time did you want to be back?”

Her nervousness subsided further – he wouldn’t bother asking her when she needed to return if his plan was to abduct her or harm her in some way. “Before five would be best.” And the other maid knew she’d been back and had wanted to talk to this doctor. She tried to stop worrying.

True to his word, he took her to one of the familiar waterside cafes so prominent in Paros. They ordered their coffees and some pastry, and Issa would have found the entire outing pleasant were it not for the bizarre way in which the doctor kept staring at her. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, but an inner sense told her to keep quiet.

“So, Miss Xenakis, how is it your English is this good?” They were finished eating and were sipping on a second cup of the delicious beverage.

For some reason, Issa hadn’t questioned this herself, but now she did. How, indeed? “I don’t really know. You see, I remember many things, like shopping in Athens when I was younger, things like that. But I don’t know when or why I was taught English.”

“You realize, do you not, that you also speak very American. No Greek accent is there.”

She frowned, thinking about this and admitting, at last, that he was right. “I am more confused about that than you can imagine.” She sighed and sat back. “I’ll have to ask my mother.”

“Your mother. Who is this mother?”

“Helene Xenakis. And she is very poor. She could never afford surgery for me, if that’s what I need. But perhaps I could do something for you in exchange, and also pay you a set amount each month?”

His eyes seem to light up with a flash of interest, but it was so brief, Issa wasn’t sure she’d seen it. “First, we should do scans to find cause of this forgetting, yes? I will do this at, as they say, no charge.”

Issa frowned, thinking this was odd. “Why would you do that?”

“If surgery is indicated, there will be charge that includes these scans. If not, well, we doctors are required to do a small number of free services. I cannot remember term for that in English. So. What do you say we do this right away?”

She laughed. “That depends on what you mean by ‘right away,’ sir.”

“Ah. Today. I have flight back to mainland in – ” He jerked his right arm out and then at an angle, exposing a gold watch. He nodded at it, then looked back at Issa. “Five-fifteen. Now it is three. But you say you must be home by five?” He shrugged. “There may not be another chance for me to be at Athens’s big hospital where equipment is for such scans. Not soon.”

Oh, dear. What should I do? I suppose I could call my mother…no, I didn’t bring my phone. Blast. Well, they must have phones at the hospital, so I could call from there, and she could tell the Kyria. Or I could call Kyria Johanan myself and let her tell my mother. I hope she isn’t angry with me, but at least her shopping is done and she has her items. I just hope she takes no offense at me talking to her doctor like this.

“Miss, er, Xenakis?”

“Sorry. All right. Yes. I can go with with you – how kind you are, sir!”

He smiled again, and while this time there was less in it to cause alarm, his eyes were still not…right. “I am only too glad to help Mrs. Johanan’s servant.”

She smiled, too, and sat back, finished her coffee, and did her best to ignore the growing mistrust knotting the pit of her stomach.

*******

Jax waited for the woman at the front desk to recover. Well aware of how much he looked like his brother, he had grown used to this kind of reaction. When the color returned to her face, she began to speak but he interrupted her. “I’m sorry. As you’ve probably figured out, I’m Jett Kinsley’s brother, Jax. I’d like to speak with one of his doctors.”

“Wow. Are you twins?”

He smiled. “No. We’re a little less than a year apart, though. I’m older.”

“Amazing.” She inhaled a quick, deep breath and turned to her computer, tapping something on the keys. “Okay, that would be Dr. Rufino. He’s in a session right now, but they should be done in fifteen minutes or so.”

“No problem. Is there somewhere