On the run (Mentalist Fanfiction)

Chapter thirteen: Incisive Chicanery

'Dear Patrick.

You know I don't like to be humiliated in the media. I thought you would've learned that by now. I guess you didn't. Let's meet tonight. Come to the location your last happy memory took place. And no police Patrick.

Red John.'

[7:07 Pm.] 

He folded up the letter and buried it in the pocket of his trousers. Walking further, he looked around and watched the trees passing by, steadily inherent to the ground. The forest scent was refreshing and moist, as if it was going to rain any minute. Jane looked up at the darkening sky, it looked spooky. The sun was gone and made place for the moon to shine brightly this night. Full moon, the night where werewolves and vampires came to life to slaughter and eat their victims; Nah. He didn't believe in those stories. When he was  5 years old, his father used to tell him scary, fantasy like stories in the middle of the night; it frightened him, but his mother always comforted him and told him it wasn't real. She told him stories about brave knights saving princesses, tricking dragons so they could eventually be together with their love. He didn't like those either. Both his parents were terrible at telling bed time stories. Well, at least they tried.

Family, he didn't have any. All of them were murdered by Red John, the man he was going to meet in a couple of minutes. As he approached the place where his last happy memory had taken place, he felt himself getting more anxious every second. His heart was vigorously beating in his chest, almost as if it would jump right out of him. It felt like he was sweating buckets, but his hands were cold, dry and numb. Trying to remain calmth, he inhaled and thought about the 'happy memories'.

"Daddy! Where are we going?" 

"To a special place Patrick." The man grasped his 6 year old son's little hand. They were walking through the forest. It was on the middle of the day, a sunny day. The sun shone brightly, its beams making their way through the trees pointing at the anti-cloudy sky. Alex Jane pointed at a small passage, secretly hidden between bushes and trees. The boy followed his father's fingers and gazed at the small passage, he didn't say anything. Alex made his way through the bushes and pushed them to the side so that his son could pass through. With him closely behind him, still holding his hand, they made their way through the passage. Leaves surrounded them, and trees were standing very close to each other, making it hard to pass through.

A while later, they were standing in a wild flower field, in the middle of the forest. Several poppy's, violets, star jasmines, Merry-Bells; Too many types of flowers to enumerate; surrounded them. It looked like a painting with many colours, beautiful. The little boy always had a weakness for the beauty of nature. He could just sit hours in a grass field to watch the birds fly, to see insects living their small life, to observe the beauty nature had given earth.

Alex kneeled down. He ran with his hand through the little boy's golden curls."You know Patrick. I only take the ones I really love to this place. Like your mother. My father took me here when I was young and he told me the same story i'm telling you right now. This flower field is special, it presents our love to others. Not many people know about this place, and we want to keep it like that. Promise, you'll only take the one you really love, the one you want to spend your life with, here. Okay?"

He nodded and smiled. "I promise."

Jane sat down with his back leaning against a tree, and waited for the arrival of his family's murderer. He stared at the flower field in front of him, it was still beautiful, even at night. Fireflies were dazzling above the flowers, illuminating them with their small light. It was silent. He closed his eyes to enjoy the silence for once, slowly breathing in and out. A cold breeze of wind made him shiver.