Authors: Julien Ayotte
Flower of Heaven (25 page)
Within seconds, ambulances arrived and the house was swarming with police. Bob rushed upstairs once he realized that Singh’s stray shots had gone through the ceiling where the bedrooms were located. Luckily, the family had locked themselves in a rear bedroom far away from the gunfire.
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There are always more visitors at hospitals on a Sunday, but the security outside Ahmad’s room had now been lessened with the capture of the two remaining assailants. Françoise was by his side when Ahmad finally awoke from the sedation following the transplant surgery.
“Hello, my husband,” Françoise gently spoke with a broad smile on her face, “I trust you slept well. Everything went well with the surgery and, in time, you also will be well again.”
“I am happy to see you again, especially on this day rather than in the next life, my queen,” Ahmad quietly responded as the two held each other’s hands warmly.
“There is more good news. Your cousin Answa is dead and his associates have been captured and arrested by the F.B.I. when they tried to kill my son, Robert Elliott, in Medway, Massachusetts late yesterday. The authorities are questioning Singh to make certain that there are no others seeking to kill you or Robert. I think the nightmare is over, Ahmad.”
“You will not be at peace, Françoise, until you face this Robert Elliott and try to explain why you abandoned him so many years ago. A child has a right to know how a mother could do this to her sons. He must want to know you if you are ever to get over the guilt feeling you now have. I will always be there for you, and for your son also, but you must go to him, my love; you must do this now while we are here.”
“Richard has told me that Robert was not happy to meet him and that we had no right to endanger his family. I fear that my visit to him will be no different but, as always my dear husband, you are correct, I must face my son.”
At that moment, Father Dick entered the room and Ahmad immediately knew who he was, even though they had never met. Françoise was about to introduce him to Ahmad when Ahmad interjected, “and I take it that this is your long lost priest of many years ago?”
“Your Highness, I am Father Richard Merrill and I am very pleased to meet you. Françoise has told me so much about you.”
“I wish I could say that Françoise has told me a great deal about you as well, Father Merrill, but, then again, she really does not know that much about you, does she?”
“That is quite true, Your Highness. A brief encounter thirty-six years ago doesn’t say much about who I really am, does it?” he echoed.
“Françoise tells me that, without your help and the people you confided in, I might not have been here today. That does tell me the kind of man you are and I thank you for that. We will talk more later, but for now, Françoise has somewhere she needs to be, and I am tired and need to rest more.”
Father Dick understood perfectly and left the telephone number and address where he could be reached in Lincoln. Françoise led Father Dick out and she again thanked him for all his help as she hugged him tightly for several seconds.
It was sunny that afternoon as Father Dick got in his car and headed back to Rhode Island. For the first time in over a week, he felt some sense of relief that some of this burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He would, of course, arrange for a meeting with the bishop of the Providence diocese to explain the events leading to the development of his sudden fatherhood. The bishop’s guidance on how to handle a priest’s son was something he would need assistance with.
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The limousine pulled up to Tiffany Lane in Medway and a policeman stepped out of his cruiser to see who was parking in front of Bob Elliott’s home. The driver got out of the limo, walked around the car, and opened the rear passenger door where Françoise stepped out. She was dressed in her formal regal attire and stood erect to greet the officer. Once she explained who she was and the purpose of her visit, the police officer walked up the front walk and rang the doorbell.
“Hi, Bob, you’ve got a visitor. A Queen Farah of Khatamori. She said you would know what it’s about.”
“Thanks, Stan; I do know what it’s about. Have her come up, would you,” Bob stated with a concerned look.
The fifty feet up that walk felt like Françoise’s longest as she nervously approached the image before her. Her heart pounded and tears streamed down her cheek as she faced her son, the child she had abandoned because she did not know any better over thirty-five years earlier. If only she could turn back time and relive that moment at the orphanage when she relinquished her rights to both sons. It was because of her that Charles Larouche was dead and because of her that Bob Elliott had been in danger of losing his own life.
“Hello, I’m Bob, would you like to come inside?” Bob spoke as he extended his right hand in a warm greeting as he noticed the tears streaming down her face.
“I am Queen Farah from Khatamori and formerly Françoise Dupont from Paris, France and, most importantly, your birth mother who made a very stupid decision so many years ago.”
“Please, come inside, you should meet the rest of my family and we can talk.”
This was not the same Bob Elliott who had earlier been less than courteous to Father Dick. As the events of the weekend became clearer to him, and as he spoke with his parents about the adoption and the years of financial support that followed, Bob realized that Françoise had been wise enough back then to seek help from the orphanage, even though he still remained confused on having been abandoned. Carl and Judy, his adopted parents, also felt remorse for Françoise and the need for Bob to meet his natural parents, whatever the circumstances.
The greetings from Bob’s parents were genuinely warm as they also were pleased to finally meet the very generous person who cared enough about her son to assure that he was financially secure in his adoptive surroundings throughout his youthful years. Françoise also seemed to hold a special feeling towards Carl and Judy as she expressed the gratitude toward them for raising such a fine son, a responsibility that should have been hers. Bob’s wife, Julie, also greeted Françoise with a tender smile as she asked her to sit in the living room nearby. Ben found all of this quite fascinating.
“I want to thank you for allowing me into your home, Robert, it is something that I should have done years ago and, perhaps, your brother, Charles, would still be alive today and someone you should have known. I have never seen him myself and it is now God’s will that we will only meet in Heaven. Please try not to judge me too quickly. I was alone, without much money, and desperate to do the right thing so many years ago in Paris. There was no way I could care for both of you and the orphanage was kind enough to help me when no one else could or would. When the years passed and I met my husband, Ahmad, I made sure that your parents had enough to raise you well. I did the same for Charles’ parents even though I knew that this was only a way for me to hide behind my guilt in having abandoned you to begin with. I see now that you are all that a mother could ask for and I’m certain Charles was as well.”
Françoise went on. “As a queen who has many loyal people who depend on her for guidance and help, I buried myself in my work to help the children in my country as my way to be the mother to them that I was not to you. I do not ask you to forgive me for what I have done, but that you understand what I did as a young, foolish woman who cannot erase that decision. Understand, Robert, that I have and will always love you as my son and that you are forever welcome in my home. Perhaps, at some other time, if you would want, we might talk again. My husband’s enemies have either been captured or killed and you and your family should no longer be in danger. Ahmad’s kidney operation went well and we will be leaving for Khatamori next Friday, if what the doctors say is true and I have no reason to doubt them. We will be at the Westin until then.”
Françoise rose to say goodbye to the Elliott family and extended her hand to each of them in friendliness. When she confronted Bob again, there was no anger on his face or resentment toward this woman. There seemed to be compassion in his eyes as they met hers and, without speaking, he forgave her. As their hands met, Bob smiled and held her extended hand in both of his. Françoise’s eyes began to water as she returned the smile.
She turned to them all and said, “You should not discuss this with anyone, and it would only create more questions and problems for you. But I repeat my open invitation to you to visit Khatamori in the future as our guests. It is very beautiful and we have a fragrance in the air that is warm and peaceful, you would like it.”
“Goodbye to all of you and thank you for allowing me to meet you. I must now be with my husband.”
As she headed for the front door, Bob stopped in her way and said, “Would you care for a cup of tea or coffee and stay a while longer before you head back to Boston?”
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Françoise stayed and chatted for another hour before she left for Boston in her limousine. She sensed so much relief at what had just transpired that she cried the entire trip back. Bob had not rejected her and a bridge had been built to further the relationship. As she entered Ahmad’s hospital room and found him awake, he also could sense the relief in her eyes. The calmness in the room lasted for quite some time before Ahmad finally spoke.
“It went well with your son?”
“Yes, my love, it was much more than I expected or deserved.”
“You are not an evil woman, Françoise, there is only so much suffering that anyone can bear. It will get better now.”
Ahmad’s treatment in Boston continued to improve his health and he would be allowed to leave for home on Friday as originally planned. In Khatamori, a specialist had been hired by Ahmad to attend to him over the next month while also bringing his expertise to the hospital in Banra.
Father Dick called Jim Howard and thanked him for all of his help in the events of the previous week. He mentioned that Jack Bumpus obviously knew his men well and Jim had certainly been the right choice to assist him.
In Medway, the doorbell rang at Bob Elliott’s home and Julie answered. Standing in the doorway was a very distinguished Arab with a package for her and Robert. As Julie quickly opened the package, she uncovered a mahogany box adorned with jewels. Inside the box, there lay a large gold-plated bottle with a note attached. Julie clumsily opened the note which read:
Smell the fragrance of Khatamori, the Flower of Heaven.
Françoise and Ahmad