IN THE TIME OF FOG

PART NINE:

"You have cleaning implements?" he asked next.

"I can do that, Maximus. I'm the one who broke it."

"It is often in life, Caroline, that the one who breaks a thing

is not the one who cleans it up. Please, allow me. I wish to do

this for you."

She pointed to a tall, narrow broom closet where he found a

dust pan and straw broom which he carried into the studio,

her following. Marcus had not moved from the spot where

Maximus had told him to stay. He smiled at him. "Good dog."

Caroline sat on the day bed, motioning Marcus carefully to

her side, watching as Maximus stooped with the dust pan,

using the broom to brush the broken glass into it. His eyes

lifted and he caught her expression. "You are worried about

my dignity?" he smiled.

Her lips curved a bit in return.

He straightened slightly, full dust pan in hand. "After one has

been dusted with lime to kill lice, one seldom worries about

dignity."

She tried to imagine that, shook her head, and said, "I don't

think there's anything you could do that would take away your

dignity, Maximus." She meant that with all her heart.

"Believe me, I have had many undignified moments."

He carried the dust pan to the kitchen where he emptied it. 

Moonlight was shining in the kitchen window and he paused,
looking out. Returning to the studio, he asked, "May we sit

in the garden a while?"

When they were seated on the bench by the clematis arbor, he

tipped his head, watching a few spidery strands of cloud wisp

by across its surface. "When I was alone on the island, I would

look at the moon." He smiled, turning his head toward her. "It

was something I knew, something I had known all my life, the

only thing I had known all my life." He looked back at it. "Like

now."

"When Alexander was in Iraq, I used to think something similar

to that, that he was looking at the same moon I was. It made me

feel connected to him."

"I, too, did that when I was on campaign. It made my home seem

less far away."

He was quiet for a while, lost in deep thought. "Jimmy," he

finally spoke, "he had a life as a real man?"

"Jimmy? Oh, James Stewart! Yes, he had a long and very full

life. Even fought in the war."

"Alexander's war?"

"No, an earlier one, a much bigger one."

He sighed. "There is always somebody left to fight."

"What?"

"Something Marcus once said to me. He was right."

He ran his fingers absently over his beard. "Other...characters

...in the same movie, they are all also being portrayed by someone

who is merely pretending to be them?"

She had no idea why he was so fascinated by the concept of

films. "Yes," she replied. "That is how it is done."

"So, many people come together, pretending together, then at

the end...they go home?"

She nodded.

"But the characters, they remain in the movie?"

"Yes, Maximus. They are not real, just written on paper and

the paper is given to the actors who say the words for them, cry

for them, love for them."

"Someone...loves for them?"

"Well, they can't love for themselves, now can they? I mean,

wouldn't they have to be real to do that?"

"They would," he replied seriously. "They would have to be

real." He paused, thinking hard. "What about a character...

before...the movie begins? What about that?"

"Oh, that's called 'back story'. A lot of actors like to give their characters back story. They say it makes them more real for

them. Some actors go to a great deal of trouble like that with

their characters. Others never give it a thought."

"So, a character does not necessarily have a back story?"

"If he does, it's because someone has taken the time to give it

to him. I've always thought it was a good idea myself. Take

Linus, for instance. He's already lived a great deal of his life
before 'How the West Was Won' begins. A man like that just

has to have back story, don't you think?"

"I do," he said, looking at his hands. "I would think it would

be important somehow."

"Have you ever done any acting, Maximus? You seem so

interested in it."

"No, I have never acted. I have only 'been'."

"That's an odd way of putting it."

"I know."

There was so much about him she was yearning to know.

"Have you been to America before?"

"I do not know, Caroline. Where is America?"

"Here, Maximus," she replied, looking at him curiously.

"America is here, is where you are."

"Then it is possible I may. I do not know for sure. I do not know

where Sid's palace was."

"How does Sid have a palace?"

"It looked like a palace and I thought it was. But it was not. It

was only deception."

"Why would he want you to think it was a palace?"

"So I would believe I was where I was not."

"Did you not see where it was when he took you there?"

"I was unconscious. I simply awoke inside." He smiled wryly.

"I seem to do that a lot."

There were things he wished to know, too. He had never thought

he would reveal as much of himself as he had, but with her it

it came easily. "America, this place, where is it situated in

relationship to...to Rome?"

"To Rome? We're a long way from Rome, Maximus. We are all

the way across the Atlantic from Rome."

"The Atlantic?"

"The ocean, Maximus, the ocean that lies between Europe and

North America."

He sighed. He was more lost than he thought. He was in a land

he did not even know existed. "America, it is a big land?"

"Very big. From sea to shining sea." Seeing his puzzled expression,

she explained, "It goes all the way from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific. Oh, I know! Wait a minute! I know just the thing." She

went to a shelf and pulled out a large atlas. The very first thing in

it was a map of the world. "Here, look." She put a finger tip in

central Italy. "This is where Rome is."

He recognized the shape of the boot.

She slid her finger westward, across a large expanse of blue.

"This is the Atlantic and this...," she circled an area with many

colors in it, "this is America."

The map helped but also astounded. "The world is this...large?"

He didn't recognize most of it.

He was a General and he had no idea of the size of the world?

She  was  getting  to the point where she  absolutely  had to

understand  the why of him.

"Can you show me, Maximus, can you show me where you rode

after the battle, where you rode to go home?"

He studied the map carefully, finding an area near the Danube.

"The battle was somewhere near here. I cannot tell exactly from

this map. It is very different from the ones I had. And I rode...

here." His finger came down in western Spain.

"You...you rode that far...on horseback?"

He nodded.

"Then where were you taken after that? Where did the slavers

take you?"

He touched a desert area of northern Africa. She looked at

the map and then at him, gazing quietly. "Can you tell me,

Maximus, please, can you tell me?"

"Tell you?"

"Who you are, why you are, how you are?"

"Caroline, I do not believe I can, not in any way that makes sense."

"Do you think any of this makes sense?"

"No, I do not think it does."

"When you can tell me, will you tell me?"

"I will. I am trying to understand it myself. It is too difficult yet

to explain to another."

In bed that night, Marcus again between his legs, he lay quietly,

his mind going over and over everything. Finally he held his

right hand up just out from his face, spreading his fingers wide,
running his left hand over it. "It is a real hand. It is my hand.

It has always been my hand. I am Maximus Decimus Meridius.

I am not...made up. I cannot be made up. I cannot." But the

faces of Sid, Cort, the centurion floated by. And he knew, oh

gods, he KNEW he had been.

He let out a low moan, pressing his hands to his face. Marcus

was instantly up, licking the backs of his hands. Caroline had

left the bathroom doors open again and, also lying awake,

heard his moan. Not bothering with her slippers, she hurried

to the studio, eyes widening at the sight.

"Marcus, down!" The dog reluctantly jumped off the day

bed, hovering nearby.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand touching his shoulder. "Maximus? What is it?"

He let his hands slide down his face, looking at her with eyes

that made her gasp with their level of pain. "I am not sure I

will survive this, Caroline. I am...undone."

"Undone? What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"I am adrift in darkness and do not know which way the shore

lies."

Tears were sparkling in his eyes. "Oh...Maximus. If only I could

help."

"I need to know what is real. I need to know I am real!"

She did the only thing she could think of. She pressed her lips

to his, keeping them there as his trembled beneath hers then

suddenly flamed and his mouth sought hers with desperate

eagerness. His hands slid into her hair, fisting there, as he

pulled her against himself. Then just as suddenly, he stopped,

holding her slightly away. "I am sorry, my La...Caroline."

"I'm not," she panted, running a hand through her tousled curls.

"You want to know if you are real, Maximus? THAT was real!"

"Oh, gods," he moaned, putting his right palm over his eyes.

"I think I am losing my mind."

"I believe I have lost mine already," she murmured, pulling

his hand away, her soft lips finding his again. He tried to turn

his head away, but she held it where she wanted it. "No,"

she said, "please let me."

 
A tear tracked down his cheek. "Why would you wish to?"

She smiled, kissing the tear's path. "Why would I not?"

Lying beside him, her fingers traced the outline of his mouth.

"Please do not be sad. It breaks my heart for you to be sad."

"How?" he asked wonderingly. "I have been here two days, no

more."

"I have never taken long to...know."

"What is it you know, Caroline?"

"I know that you came and that if you left, I would live in darkness without you. I know that you stir my heart and in your presence I remember I am female."

He closed his eyes. "I do not believe Sid intended to send me here.

I do not believe he knew about you or he would not."

"This Sid, how does he have such power?"

"I do not understand much of that, Caroline. But I have seen

some of the things he can do, the things he has control over. I

think much of it must have come from his place of origin."

"His place of...origin?"

"I know little of it. He only showed me a few minutes."

"Showed you...a few minutes...of, of his origin?"

"Yes," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "On a DVD."

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