The Black Swan

by Tari Conti

There was a splinter in one knuckle and a drop of blood slid slowly down another. Still both fists hammered on the thick wooden door. This was useless. All the doors in this place were cut from one slab.

One more time, Lola looked over her shoulder at the three windows in the stone wall behind her. Each was only one square foot. She would never fit through, that's if she could even reach them. They were placed high on the walls, above her head, and there is no furniture in the room. Slumping to the ground, she felt defeated.

How long will she have to linger here before being rescued? Again, she looked towards the windows. She scooted back against the wall preparing for a long wait. For the first time, she regretted this place being isolated. Mario and Lola were seeking a vacation spot. Some place they could be alone and relax. It wasn't just a vacation home they sought but a future home after retirement. This one-acre plot dotted with various fruit trees surrounded with nothing but miles of green wherever the eye looked seemed ideal. The fact that the house was in total disrepair was not a hindrance for the couple. The property was bought dirt cheap because of the years of neglect. Doing what renovations they could themselves was a challenge they readily accepted together. The place would truly be theirs marked by their sweat, blood and tears. She never considered that in times of emergency, the remoteness would be against them. She sighed as she lied down. Might as well be comfortable. She could be here for a while.

There was a distant pounding that grew closer and closer. The cool tile felt comforting against her skin. She didn't want to move and lose this sensation. Her lids slowly opened. Lola jumped to a seated position when she realized the pounding was coming from the other side of the door. Someone was here!

Wide eyes stayed on the door as it flew open. Lola jumped to feet and ran forward.

"Marco! What are you doing here?" Her arms encircled him as she pressed the side of her face into his chest in a hug. Strong arms were around her returning the sentiment. "I didn't think you were coming today!"

"I wasn't but the weather is beautiful today, too beautiful to be inside working. You've gotten a lot done this past week. Mario will be surprised when he returns."

"You mean we've gotten a lot accomplished. There's still so much I want to do before our anniversary. The renovations are really coming along though, even better than I hoped. Mario will be surprised. Mostly, at the sight of his long, lost brother! I can't believe after all these years, you just showed up out of the blue to reunite with him."

Lola smoothed her long brown hair after releasing her tresses from their binding as she tried not to look at Marco's eyes. Well, not staring into them mesmerized is what she was really thinking. She'd never seen brown eyes quite like his. They were bright, as if a light was shining through them like a stained-glass window.

Are Mario's eyes like that? Strange, she just couldn't remember. They would have to be, wouldn't they? I mean they are twin brothers after all.

"Listen, I'm thrilled you showed up. I thought this door wasn't shutting flush and closed it to check not thinking it was a problem that I was inside and the key was on the outside. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would be stuck in that room all weekend until Mario found me Monday morning."

"That's assuming he came here Monday morning."

"Let's not even think of the alternative. So why did you come anyway?"

"I want to take you out on my boat. It's a great day for it."

"You've convinced me. Let's go."

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Lola felt relaxed on the water. The sun glinted off the surface like jewels shimmering in the light. The sky was a perfect blue. Her skin was caressed by the light breeze dancing across the boat. Marco was a competent captain moving around the vessel with a sure foot and hand making a pleasant afternoon.

After a lunch of crab with avocado, tomato, mango and pineapple, she went below deck feeling like she had too much sun. Admiring the wood all around her, for the hundredth time, she felt amazed that Marco did all this work himself. It was a beautiful boat. She couldn't help but wonder if he lived on the boat. It certainly had all the amenities essential to any home. Undecided if it was rude to ask, she didn't.

Drinking the lemonade Marco made her, she sat back on the sofa and made herself thoroughly at home. Her sandals remained on the floor as her feet curled up on the cushion by her side. Her host appeared disappointed she didn't want the wine that was opened for lunch. Having alcohol while on the water never seemed like a good idea to Lola and she didn't feel bad about turning it down.

It must be the water rocking her to sleep. She felt drowsy and just wanted to close her eyes for five minutes.

The feeling of silk under her cheek made her finally open her eyes. The bed she slumbered in was a queen size four poster bed with luxurious silk bed linens and multiple pillows. She sat straight up and looked around. How did she get here? Where is she? This is definitely not the boat she fell asleep on.

Listening for any sound, she was met with silence. Cautiously, she made her way out of bed. There was a large wool carpet on the floor and a small dressing table with a hairbrush and comb across from the bed. The large, attached mirror reflected her look of confusion. There was no other furniture in the room. The walls were stone and the ceiling was high indeed.

She noticed the gown on the chair of the dressing table for the first time. It was forest green satin with burgundy trim. It was elaborate, ornate and Victorian looking. The exceptionally large wooden door opened and a very ordinary looking woman in the uniform of a servant entered.

"Where am I? What is this place? How did I get here?" Lola was anxious for answers and relieved to see someone harmless appear.

"You must dress for dinner. Dinner is served promptly at seven. Shoes are near the bed."

She looked where indicated and noticed a pair of velvet shoes for the first time. Annoyed, that she didn't answer her questions, Lola stood steadfast. She was not dressing in that ridiculous costume or staying for dinner!

The woman stepped towards her, as if, to help her dress. Her nose curled up instinctively. "You'll need a shower first. Through there. Go!"

Being directed through a narrow doorway, a shower was found. After hearing the door to the chamber close behind her, she ran to it and pulled on the handle to no avail. Lola was locked in. This felt like a bad dream. Both her hands ran through her hair as she sat on the edge of the bed.

She ran to the bathroom and peered out the window. Water was all around. It stretched all the way to horizon. This place was built to be a fortress.

After a quick shower, Lola slipped into the gown and shoes provided. Her best course of action was to go along until she discovered who brought her here and why.

Returning the brush to the dressing table, and taking one last look in the mirror, she didn't hear the door open, but suddenly the woman was beside her again.

"I'll escort you down for dinner."

Lola stood without a word. She's not going to answer any questions or help me and dinner was not a request.

There was a narrow winding stone stairway. Lola's hands ran over the stone walls as they descended in silence.

The bottom opened into a large open space. There was a huge fireplace against one wall with a fire burning inside. On the opposite side of the room, there was a long wooden dining table that could easily seat eight people but only currently had a high-backed velvet chair at each end of the table. Under the table was a wool carpet with a scene depicting foxes, hunting dogs and horses. There was a beautiful candelabra in the center of the table with long tapered white candles lighting the setting. A bowl of red roses was placed on either side of the center piece.

Lola stood at the bottom of the staircase taking in the scene. The servant moved to the table without a word to Lola. A tall man with black hair stood at one end of the table. He was also dressed in an elaborate costume to compliment Lola's.

He must have heard the servant's arrival. As he turned towards her, she realized suddenly that it was Marco. Never so relieved to see a familiar face she ran towards Marco as the slick clean bottoms of her shoes skid across the stone floor.

"Marco! You're Here! What happened? What is this place? How did we get here? Where are we?" She was at his side and placed one hand onto his forearm as she looked around afraid that they might be separated at any moment.

"Calm down. Here, have a glass of wine." He poured the ruby red liquid from a chilled metal pitcher. The goblet he handed her was heavy cut crystal filled three quarters to the top.

"You can start serving." He spoke to the woman who was silently waiting for instruction. "Yes, Sir." She disappeared presumably to the kitchen to retrieve the meal.

Lola put the goblet onto the table. It sat close to the edge and Marco casually moved it backwards to a position of safety. She looked at Marco with wide eyes in astonishment. "What is this? You brought me here? Why? What is this place?"

"Yes. Of course, I brought you here. Why are you looking like that? Don't you remember being on my boat with me earlier today? You said you wanted to see my castle. Well, here it is!" His arm waved in an expansive gesture to take in their entire surroundings.

"Well, yes, some day I wanted to see your castle. You, me and Mario..."

"Stop with Mario!" His fist banged on the thick tabletop. "I'm tired of hearing his name!" His anger was substantial.

Lola took a step back and cowered a little. "But he's your brother. You came to see him after all this time apart." She hated the pleading evident in her voice.

"He's always taking things from me. I won't let him take you, not now that we've found each other."

"I'm Mario's wife. I'm not yours to take."

I look of incomprehension met her gaze. "How can you say that after the last week we spent together?" Moving near her, he put his arms around her to pull her close. As he moved in to kill her lips, Lola turned her face so that his mouth softly glanced off her cheek.

His hands held her upper arms in a tight grip.

"You can't keep me here. What did you think would happen?" Lola struggled to release his hold.

"We'll be happy here. We'll fall in love. You'll see." His grip was loose but he didn't want to let her go.

"I don't want to stay here. I'm in love with Mario." She tried to sound kind, to not let her fear show hoping he would see reason and return her to the house she was renovating.

"I'm his brother! If you love him, you can love me!"

She pulled herself free, no longer concerned about being gentle with him. "I'm not staying here and no matter how long you keep me hostage, I will never love you!" She ran to the door at the end of the great room expecting a large hand to reach out and grab her, pulling her back at any moment. She reached the door looking behind her. Marco stood at the table drinking from a goblet.

Surprised to find the key in the keyhole, she turned it as she pulled the heavy door open. Risking one more look behind her, Marco was still showing no concern over her actions. Running out the door she ran about twenty-five feet from the entrance when she stopped short looking all around her in disbelief. This castle was an old lighthouse no longer in use. It sat atop a high cliff on its own island. Water surrounded her clear out to the horizon. She was trapped.

Lola walked inside with defeat written all over her face. What would be the point of staying outside without shelter or food? She had no choice. Marco knew it which explained his calm demeanor. There was no fear that he would hurt her, just a dread that permeated from her toes, how long would she be held here? There was no reason to suppose anyone would find her here. Certainly not Mario, he didn't know his brother was near or his contact with her. There was nothing to connect him to her disappearance.

"Have some dinner." The servant had come back with the meal and laid out platters containing roast fish, grilled potatoes, the largest asparagus spears she ever saw, olives, artichoke hearts and tomatoes. Everything looked and smelled delicious. She was starving. Silently, she took her seat at the other end of the table. Respecting her silence, he brought the goblet of wine she left untouched and sat it by her plate, close to her hand. He didn't speak until taking his seat. "You'll feel better with a full stomach and a good night's sleep." Placing his napkin over his lap, they ate in silence.

She drained the last of the wine in her goblet not caring how many times he refilled it or how intoxicated she became. Being drunk seemed reasonable considering the circumstances. The servant appeared at her side. Lola couldn't say if there were others. This same woman was the only other person she saw. Gently placing her hand under her elbow, she helped her to her feet. "Come Miss. I'll bring you to your chamber."

One hand held onto her arm as the other glided across the stone walls of the narrow staircase. The slick-bottomed shoes slid on the steps causing her to stumble twice. Her companion kept her from falling to the ground completely.

Once inside the room, she sat on the edge of the bed, as the servant insisted on removing her gown. She wasn't much help and flopped this way and that until it was finally pulled away. The white cotton nightgown slipped over her head before she could slide under the covers. She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

"Wake up. Come on. We have to go." The whisper in her ear was accompanied by a gentle shaking of her shoulder. The words made it through the drunken fog and reached her brain. Her face scrunched up in refusal. Wanting to swat away the hand trying to call her to action, her fingers merely squirmed in response. Her faint cries of "shoo, shoo" drowned in the silk pillow resting under her cheek.

The comforter was thrown off and she was scooped up into strong arms that held her as her head rested against a broad flannel covered chest. Her minor attempts at discord were quieted. "It's me, Lola." Hearing Mario's voice was all she needed to settle into his arms ad be taken away.

Cool air caressed one cheek and her head looked up awakened, at last. The boat was clearly their destination. It wasn't the boat that brought her here. It was smaller and it was a motor boat. When she saw the man in the boat gesturing for them to hurry and join him, she felt nervous and her body stiffened.

"It's okay. That's Leo. He's with me." His reassurance worked and she was calm again. Once seated in the back of the boat, it took off as if they were being chased. She dared a peek behind them but saw nothing but water. The lighthouse faded smaller and smaller in the distance. They were not being pursued.

"How on earth did you find me?" The sea air sobered her up fast. Lola snuggled close to Mario. A wool blanket was wrapped around her. "I have to tell you something. I know you'll be shocked but you must believe me. Your brother did this." She was prepared for his denial.

"I know."

She looked up from his chest in disbelief. "You know? How could you know? You haven't had contact with Marco since, since who knows when? He showed up out of the blue a week ago with no word."

"It's true, I haven't seen Marco since we were in college, but I've always known where he was. I've kept tabs on his whereabouts all this time. He bought The Black Swan quite a few years ago."

"The Black Swan?" The confusion in her eyes was reflected in her voice.

"That's the vessel he took you sailing on."

"You knew about that? How did you know? Were you two in touch all this time? Is this some sort of trick or are you two in on this together? Lola was sitting up now.

"I knew he had the boat and I knew he bought the lighthouse. When I returned and you weren't around it didn't take a genius to figure out he invited you sailing as a ruse to get you to the lighthouse."

Mario sounded and by all appearances was calm. Never even looking back once to see if they were being followed. His calm was permeating to Lola and she felt safe. The night was dark with only a sliver of a moon but Leo steered with the skill of a man used to being on the water.

"What do you mean, you always knew where he was? If you didn't have any contact with him, how could you? Did you hire someone to find him?"

"I didn't need to. It was quite easy really. You see, I look like him so it's easy to convince anybody I am him and I can find out whatever I want to know about him."

Lola was stunned. It made sense though. She was speechless.

"That was why I was initially hesitant about buying the property here. I know I said it was because of the run down condition of the house. Actually, it was because I knew the proximity to Marco. It didn't feel comfortable but you seemed to have your heart sat on this place and there was no reason to think we would cross paths with Marco. He never needed to know we were this close. We're almost there." He held her close, putting her head against his chest and snuggling close with her under the blanket.

"We'll find a room to spend the night and fly home in the morning. There's every reason to think he won't detect you missing before morning. With a big enough head start, there's no way to believe he'll know where to find us. Sure, he found this place but that doesn't mean he knows where we live. We didn't talk about where we're from with anyone here."

In the back of his mind, he must have thought there was a chance Marco would find him and something like this would happen. Lola could never get him to admit why he was so close mouthed about where they were from.

"Lola, Lola. You have to wake up now." For the second time, she was being woken sooner than she wanted to be. This time the drunken haze was lifted. "You have to get up, shower, dress and pack the bags. I'm heading out to the bank and will make the arrangements. You have to be ready when I get back. Come on La Mia Piccola Colomba." He softly kissed her lips and waited until she grunted in reply so he knew she was listening. Then he was gone.

After the shortest shower of her life, she dressed quickly and threw their remaining belongings into their bags. Feeling proud that she was going to have everything done and be ready when Mario returned, she took one last look around the hotel room, opening drawers she knew she didn't use to make sure nothing was left behind.

The knock at the door stopped in her tracks. Who knew they were here? Surely, Mario would use his key. The knock came again, this time insistent. Quietly, she crept towards the door and peered through the looking hole. A police uniform was outside her door. Her heart started racing. Again, the knocking which wouldn't be denied. Slowly, she backed away from the door.

"Mrs. D'Angelo? Are you there? It's the police. It's urgent we talk with you. There's been an accident." The young man at the door was surprised when the door swung wide. For a moment, he didn't speak.

"An accident? What happened? Is it my husband? Is he okay?" Her nerves were on edge after everything that transpired in the last twenty-four hours.

"I'm afraid it was your husband and his brother."

"His brother?!" The shock moved her backwards a couple steps.

"Are you okay Mrs. D'Angelo? Is someone else with you? Is there someone I can call for you?" He stepped inside the room.

"No. No There's no one. I'll be okay. Please tell me what happened."

"Maybe, you should have a seat." His hand motioned towards my elbow to lead me to a sofa.

She was tired of being led and wanted to take control of her surroundings. She sat mostly so he would deliver the news. The concern on his brow made it obvious no news would be shared until he was certain she was safe to hear it.

"There's been a car accident. Apparently, they were traveling at a high speed and didn't quite make the curve in the road. They went over a steep rocky embankment. The gas tank hit a rock going down and exploded."

"Oh my God!" Lola's hands went to her chin in silent prayer as a tear came to one eye. "Is Mario dead?"

"I'm sorry to tell you only one of them survived. He was thrown clear before the car exploded. He's in critical condition though."

"Which one survived?" She didn't want to hear the answer but needed to know.

"We don't know." His tone was sheepish, as if he hated to admit it.

"YOU DON"T KNOW!? HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW?! Lola was on her feet, her hands at her sides.

"I'm sorry. Neither one had an ID on him. Both wallets were recovered in the debris of the wreckage. I'm sorry but both bodies suffered major injuries. They were twins after all.

Lola sat back down stunned. It only took a moment. She grabbed her purse and walked to the door. "Can you drive me to the hospital?"

"Of course, that's why I'm here. Let's go." Lola was out the door before he finished speaking.

Lola sat in the waiting room of the hospital not knowing what to do. The doctor spoke with her when she arrived. The survivor was critically injured. There was a lot of damage to his face, disfigured was the word he used. There were serious burns, internal injuries and broken bones to contend with as well. He was placed in a medically induced coma. He wasn't able to speak when he first arrived. Low moans came from somewhere deep within him. That was all.

The doctor didn't say it, nor did the policeman but they were relying on her to tell them which man survived. How was she expected to do that? She wanted to call someone. She wished desperately that there was someone to call but she couldn't think of a soul. Except Mario.

"Dear God, please let that be Mario they were working fiercely to save. Please God."

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It's been about a year since Mario's horrific accident. Life has been good. The remodeling is long completed and they spend time there whenever they can. Rolling over to kiss Lola once more, "I'm going to jump in the shower. We should hurry so they don't give away our dinner reservation like last time."

"They better not. I will be sooo mad. Don't worry Il Mio Piccolo Carciofo, I won't take long." She jumped out of bed to gather the dress, clothes and jewelry she selected for tonight.

"Carciofo?" Mario laughed. "You need to practice your Italian. Doesn't that mean rutabaga or something like?" He hurried into the other room without seeing the look of horror on her face. She heard the shower running.

"Oh My God!" She put her fist to her lips so she wasn't heard. Sitting on the bed every inch of her was shaking. Her body was paralyzed with fear. Running through her head was 'I have to leave before he comes out. I have to leave before he comes out.'

"I have to leave before he comes out." Whispering out loud broke the spell and she moved putting on the first jeans and shirt she found. Clothes and other belongings were thrown into a duffle bag and she ran to her car as if her life depended on it.

The red Mini Cooper traveled the roads like a champ approaching the finish line. Not looking back once, her phone rang and she hesitated to check the caller ID. Mario's face was smiling up from his photo in her contacts. Lola turned off her phone.

"I have to go where he will never find me. Where should I go?" Parking her car at the train station in Rome, she ran to buy the ticket for London. Confident she could get a flight to Canada, anywhere in Canada, she didn't worry. Once, she was on the flight from Montreal, she sat back confident she would not be found.

Once more she saw her husband's face break into a big smile as he laughed when she called him a rutabaga. Early in their relationship he started calling Lola 'La Mia Piccola Colomba', my little dove. She was trying to call him 'my little turtledove' but something went wrong in the translation and it came out 'il mio piccolo carciofo', my little artichoke. She remembered fondly how much they laughed that night because it was a good night all around despite her one faux pas. To revive the happiness of that night, she always called him 'mio carciofo.' Being so happy the last months, it hadn't really dawned on her that he no longer used the endearment. Mario would never have forgotten their pet names for one another.

For the first time, ever, she thought about what Mario told her that cold night as he held her close under the wool blanket. He always kept tabs on Marco's whereabouts to ensure their paths wouldn't cross. Marco had tried to kill him two or three times from their childhood to junior year of college. Always, he said the same thing, that Mario took everything from him, the same words he spoke to Lola at the lighthouse.

Placing the sleep mask on and sinking under the blanket, so no one would see the tears, she cried tears of grief for her late husband.