Anna started to reply that Rosa, the housekeeper, would do all that, but stopped herself. Unfortunately, Rosa wasn’t coming back—at least, not until that asesina left the house. “You don’t have to—”
“But I want to!” Consuelo smiled shyly. “You’ve done so much for me, the least I can do is help you!”
At Consuelo’s insistence, Anna showed her where the cleaning supplies and dishes were kept. Her imagination said Consuelo seemed a little too interested in the long, sharp carving knives in the utensil drawer. But the rational part of her condemned that idea as paranoid.
After the younger woman went upstairs, Anna removed several textbooks from the bookcase in the family room. She didn’t want them to upset Consuelo any more than they already had. Carrying the heavy books to her own bedroom made her back hurt.
Alone in the dark in her large empty bed, Anna reminded herself to call Bob Nemo at Northwestern and give him a progress report. The neurobiologist and his team had developed the techniques they’d used on Consuelo to modify and stimulate production of CNS neurotransmitter receptors. The methods for tracing and erasing memories for specific time periods were a little more standardized, though Nemo’s own research had made them more accurate and effective. He and his staff had already published several basic science papers on the treatment, but they were expecting her to write things up from a clinical perspective. As she drifted off to sleep Anna thought, I’ve got to get my notes together and start writing…
Suddenly her eyes opened. The room was pitch black. Something—some sound—had awoken her. Terrified, Anna remembered that the door to her bedroom was open. Reflexively she reached over to wake up Charles. But, of course, he wasn’t there. Heart pounding, she strained to hear the faint rustle of bare feet across the carpeted floor. In her mind’s eye she pictured a wraithlike figure coming toward her, knife held high—!
And then, faintly, at the other end of the hall Anna heard the sound of a toilet being flushed, followed a moment later by the faraway creaking of mattress springs. Sighing, she tried to fall asleep again. But the alarm clock went off before she could.
Just before Anna left for work she peeked into Consuelo’s bedroom. The latter was still asleep, her angelic face aglow with sweet, innocent dreams. As Anna drove into the city she had second thoughts about leaving Consuelo alone in the house. No, she convinced herself, it wasn’t because Consuelo might burn down the house or run away. But what if, suddenly alone in a strange place, she became frightened? Or what if one of those bastards from the tabloids came to the house and harassed her? The way that one TV show in particular had treated poor Consuelo still enraged Anna.
No, she should have canceled her appointments and stayed home. But Bill Skinner, her partner, was out of town for the week at a medical conference, so there was no one she could trust to cover for her. Although she had a responsibility to Consuelo, she had the same kind of responsibility to her other patients too. She couldn’t just abandon them, by rescheduling them for next week—could she? Bill always said she was too obsessive-compulsive for her own good. Although it was painful to admit it, Anna knew he was right.
Her day was uneventful. All the patients she saw were doing fine. And there were no emergency phone calls about a disaster at her house.
Anna drove home in record time. At least the house is still standing. Entering the kitchen from the attached garage, Anna became worried when she saw the security system wasn’t on. Then she heard music coming from the family room. The exhilarating conclusion of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. Consuelo was probably in there, relaxing.
But as Anna headed toward the room that masterwork was followed by a few spoken words, then another piece—Gene Kelly’s rendition of “Sin-gin’ in the Rain.” She stopped, realizing that Consuelo wasn’t listening to music. She was watching a movie. And Anna knew which one it was.
Gathering her courage, she called, “Hi! I’m home!” and entered the family room.
Consuelo was sitting on the couch, staring at the colorful closing credits on the TV screen. Seeing Anna, she said, “Hi! I didn’t hear you come in!”
Acting nonchalant, Anna walked over and hit the “Stop” button on the DVD machine. “How did things go today?”
“Fine. Let me show you what I did.”
Anna followed her to the kitchen. The vinyl floor, which had become scuffed and dirty since Rosa abruptly took her “leave of absence” last week, now sparkled. Anna noted approvingly that the stove and countertops were scrubbed and polished to a healthy glow.
Consuelo said, “I didn’t know when you’d get home, so I haven’t put supper on yet. Why don’t you go relax, and I’ll make it.”
“That’s fine, I can help—”
“No, you worked all day! Besides, I love to cook.” Consuelo’s face turned sad. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a chance to do it.”
Yielding to Consuelo’s pleas, Anna returned to the family room and collapsed into her favorite recliner. Closing her eyes, she listened to the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen. Soon a spicy mix of mouth-watering aromas wafted to her nose. Anna sunk deeper into the recliner, feeling warm and relaxed…
Suddenly she woke up. Anna dimly sensed Consuelo standing over her. There was something in her patient’s hand. She was raising it up—!
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you.” Consuelo gestured toward the kitchen with her wooden stirring spoon. “Supper’s ready.”
The arroz con polio Consuelo made was fabulous. After finishing several servings, a terrible thought flashed into Anna’s mind. But Consuelo had eaten the same food she had. And the younger woman didn’t seem suicidal.
After taking care of the dishes and rejoining Anna in the family room, Consuelo said, “If you don’t mind, Dr.—I mean, Anna—I’d like to go to bed now.” She glanced at the clock on the mantle. “They always had ‘lights out’ at eight o’clock, so I’m not used to staying up later.”
“That’s fine. Oh, I almost forgot. When I came home, the alarm system was off.”
Consuelo looked devastated. “I’m sorry! The weather was so nice, I went out on your back porch this afternoon. I must have forgotten to turn it back on when I came in.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry!”
“That’s all right. I just want you to be safe. Just remember to turn the alarm on when you come back inside.”
Head bowed, Consuelo said contritely, “I will.” Then she went upstairs.
Anna watched her go, puzzled. Was Consuelo acting a little too emotionally? Reacting too self-critically to “failure”? And if so, what did it mean?
Later, Anna went over to the entertainment center. Pushing the “Eject” button on the DVD machine, she removed her disc of A Clockwork Orange and replaced it in its plastic case. It was too late to hide that movie from Consuelo. But at least she could prevent any more matinees.
Then she checked her collection for other movies to censor. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest? Yes. Psycho? Definitely! Anna shivered, reminding herself to lock the bathroom door when she took a shower.
Adding a dozen more discs to the stack, she held the last in her hand, and hesitated. Finally Anna placed the DVD in the machine, and spent the next two hours mesmerized by the original black-and-white version of The Bad Seed. Then she carried the discs upstairs and hid them under the mattress of her bed.
It was a long time before she fell asleep.
At her office the next day, Anna berated herself for not being able to control her fears. Consuelo was cured, she kept telling herself. The young woman’s new personality was very pleasant and sweet. It couldn’t be just an act. She could have run away yesterday, or attacked her at any time. But she hadn’t. Didn’t that prove she was cured? Unless—