Masters Missive

Liberation

Five months had flown by like migrating birds and I had not seen nor spoken to Adam since his disappearance. We had still been unaware of his whereabouts but a week after I had spoken to his dad, Adam had contacted his sister and assured her that he was fine and that he needed time alone to find himself. He called her once a week thereafter as she had hopelessly requested, but his check-ins had ceased after a couple of months.

I had failed to accept Adam's departure and having been oblivious to what had driven him away had infuriated me. He had always been a fortress in my life and having not seen him for such a long time had disheartened me.

How could he have left without speaking to me?

He had always counted on me so why hadn't he then?

What had happened and why had he chosen to leave?

Question upon question had lingered in my mind day upon day until I had forged a rage toward him. He was selfish and inconsiderate to have abandoned us and for someone whom had always been wise, he certainly lacked the simplest form of wisdom then.

My wedding ceremony had arrived and although I had been eager to commence with the new chapter in my life, a disappointment had lurked. I had met my fiancé a month after Adam had disappeared and our wedding had been decided without haste, since her parents were relocating abroad.

I was chauffeured in a hired convertible and stepped out like a made-man with the lions alongside like mafia, although in the absence of a don. I waited at the end of the aisle excited to see my bribe appear but hopeful that Adam too would emerge. The guests turned in silence and the aisle lit up like a runway. She walked through the doorway with a bouquet in hand and an exquisite gown that sensually caressed the petalled floor. My heart galloped with every alluring step and when she stood before me, her lifted veil revealed my hypnotic future. Sarah was breath-taking, and her bridal radiance illuminated her face like a full moon. She was everything that I had desired, but an emptiness inside me had longed for Adam to embrace me with a warm approval. Glitz and glamour had adorned the day and celebrations echoed as guests laced our pockets with cash, but the absence of Adam pierced through the auspicious occasion like a blade through flesh. It taunted me that the next time that I'd see him, I'd introduce my wife for the first time.

We had spent the first day of our honeymoon on the sandy white beach of Buckley where calm aqua waters and towering palm trees smeared the area with artistry. We strolled along the shore as the faded waves lathered our feet and the sun blazed on our fedoras. I reminisced about the days with the lions and had spoken about our infamous exploits and the constant fun and laughter that smothered the coalition. Sarah was fascinated with the various personalities within the coalition, and I had fervently emphasised the traits that had set each lion apart. An overwhelming sadness had however silenced me before I had spoken about Adam.

"And Adam?" she asked. "Saving the best for last huh?"

"Adam. Geez, a different breed hun. He's a legend," I replied.

I had spoken intensely about the day that I had first seen him at The Hutch, about the comical exploits we shared and the tear drenching moments that had ensued. The revelation had injected a visible heartache whereupon Sarah had discovered the bond that Adam and I had shared, and had staunchly encouraged a search for him upon our return to Edenmere.

Over the next few days, we toured various attractions that Buckley had offered and had visited botanical gardens, mountain sides and exquisite eateries that conferred serenity upon every moment. We had planned to visit an aquarium on a Thursday afternoon and had been at a standstill at a traffic intersection. I slowly advanced toward the bridge and observed two vagabonds whom had rested close to the curb. The taller in brown, and the shorter in blue. The snapshot of Lenny snuck up like a hefty bill and I thought about the pleasant manner in which Adam had always treated him. My attention had shifted to the vagabond in blue, whom had rested his back and head against the bridge with an untidy full-faced beard and dishevelled hair that rivalled his tattered clothing and dirty shoes. He turned toward my direction when the sun glared directly on his face and had locked eyes with me in a stare-down. Our expressions had morphed, and I appeared uncertain whilst he seemed demeaned.