It howled once more, then dove into the water. Powerful strokes propelled it out into the bay, directly toward the pool of flaming oil. Like a loyal Indian wife throwing herself on her husband's funeral pyre, it headed toward Kusum's sunken iron tomb.
Gia had turned and was hurrying toward him with Vicky in her arms. Abe, too, wet and dripping, was walking his way.
"My grandmother used to try to scare me with stories of dybbuks," Abe said breathlessly. "Now I've seen one,"
"Are the monsters gone?" Vicky kept saying, her head continually rotating back and forth as she stared into the long shadows thrown by the tire on the bay. "Are the monsters really gone?"
"Is it over?" Gia asked.
"I think so. I hope so."
He’d been facing away from her. He turned as he answered and she gasped when she saw his front.
"Jack! Your chest!"
He pulled the shreds of his shirt closed over his ripped flesh. The bleeding had stopped and the pain was receding...due to the necklace, he guessed.
"It's all right. Scratches. Look a lot worse than they are." He heard sirens begin to wail. "If we don't pack this stuff up and get out of here soon, we're going to have to answer a lot of questions."
Together, he and Abe dragged the deflated raft to the truck and threw it into the back, then they framed Gia and Vicky in the front seat. But this time Abe took the wheel. He knocked out the remains of the shattered windshield with the flat of his palm and started the engine. The sand was packed around the rear wheels but Abe skillfully rocked it out and drove through the gate Jack had rammed open earlier.
"A miracle if we make it uptown without getting pulled over for this windshield."
"Blame it on vandals," Jack told him. He turned to Vicky who lay curled up against her mother, and ran his forefinger along her arm. "You're safe now, Vicks."
"Yes, she is," Gia said with a small smile as she laid her cheek against the top of Vicky's head. "Thank you, Jack."
Jack saw that the child was sleeping.
Gia slipped her free hand into his. Jack looked into her eyes and saw no fear there. It was a look he’d longed to see. The sight of Vicky sleeping peacefully made all the pain and horror worthwhile; the look in Gia's eyes was a bonus.
She leaned her head back and closed those eyes. "Is it really over?"
"For you, it is. For me...one loose end left."
"The woman," Gia said. It wasn't a question.
Jack nodded, thinking about Kolabati sitting in his apartment, and about what might be happening to her. He reached across Gia to get Abe's attention.
"Drop me off at my place first, will you, Abe? Then take Gia home."
"You can't take care of those wounds by yourself!" she said. "You need a doctor."
"Doctors ask too many questions. And the one I usually use is out of town."
"Then come home with me. Let me clean you up."
"It's a deal. I'll be over as soon as I finish at my place."
Gia's eyes narrowed. "What's so important that you have to see her so soon?"
"I've got some personal property of hers" —he tapped the necklace around his throat—"that has to be returned."
"Can't it wait?"
"Afraid not. I borrowed it without telling her, and I've been told she really needs it."
Gia said nothing.
"I'll be over as soon as I can."
By way of reply, Gia turned her face into the wind coming through the glassless front of the truck and stared stonily ahead.
Jack sighed. How could he explain to her that "the woman" might be aging years by the hour, might be a drooling senile wreck by now? How could he convince Gia when he couldn't quite convince himself?
The rest of the trip passed in silence as Abe wended his way uptown. They saw a few police cars, but none were close enough to notice the missing windshield.
"Thanks for everything, Abe," Jack said as the truck pulled up in front of the brownstone.
"Want me to wait?"
"This may take a while. Thanks again. I'll settle up with you in the morning."
"I'll have the bill ready."
Jack kissed the sleeping Vicky on the head and slid out of the seat. He was stiff and sore.
"Are you coming over?" Gia asked, finally looking at him.
"As soon as I can," he said, glad the invitation was still open. "If you still want me to."
"I want you to."
"Then I'll be there. Within an hour. I promise."
"You'll be okay?"
He was grateful for her worried look.
"Sure."
He slammed the door and watched them drive off. Then he began the long climb to the third floor. When he reached his door, key in hand, he hesitated.
A chill crept over. him: What waited on the other side?
Nothing, he hoped. An empty front room and a young Kolabati asleep in his bed. He’d deposit both necklaces on the nightstand where she’d find them in the morning, then he’d leave for Gia's place.
That would be the easy way. Kolabati would know her brother was dead without his actually having to tell her. Hopefully, she’d be gone when he got back.
Let's make this easy, he thought. Let something be easy tonight.
He opened the door and stepped into the dark front room. The only illumination leaked down the hall from his bedroom. All he could hear was breathing—rapid, ragged, rattly…from the couch. He stepped toward it.
"Kolabati?"
A gasp, a cough, a groan, then someone rose from the couch. Framed in the light from the hall was a wizened, spindly figure with high thin shoulders and kyphotic spine. It stepped toward him. Jack sensed rather than saw an outstretched hand..
"Give it to me!" The voice was little more than a faint rasp, a snake sliding through dry straw. "Give it back to me!"
But the cadence and pronunciation were unmistakable—Kolabati.
Jack tried to speak and found his throat locked. With shaking hands he reached around to the back of his neck and removed the necklace. He then pulled Kusum' s from his pocket.
"Returning it with interest," he managed to say as he dropped both necklaces into the extended palm, avoiding contact with the skin.
Kolabati either did not realize or did not care that she now possessed both necklaces. She made a slow, tottering turn and hobbled off toward the bedroom. For an instant she was caught in the light from the hall. Jack turned away at the sight of her shrunken body, her stooped shoulders and arthritic joints. Kolabati was an ancient hag. She turned the corner and Jack was alone in the room.
A great lethargy seeped over him. He went over to the chair by the front window that looked out onto the street and sat down.
It's over. Finally over.
Kusum gone, the rakoshi gone, Vicky home safe. And in his bedroom Kolabati was turning young again. He fought an insistent urge to sneak down the hall and see out what was happening...to watch her grow young. Maybe then he could believe in magic.
Magic...after all he’d seen, all he’d been through, he still found it difficult to believe in magic. Magic didn't make sense. Magic didn't follow the rules. Magic...
What was the use? He couldn't explain the necklaces or the rakoshi. Call them unknowns. Leave it at that.
But still—to watch it happening...
He went to stand up and found he couldn't. He was too weak. He slumped back and closed his eyes.
Sleepy...
A sound behind him startled him. He opened his eyes and realized that he must have dozed off. The hazy skim-milk light of predawn filled the sky. He must have been out for at least an hour. Someone was approaching from the rear. Jack tried to turn to see who it was but found he could only move his head. His shoulders felt glued to the wing back of the chair...so weak...
"Jack'?" Kolabati's voice—the Kolabati he knew. The young Kolabati. "Jack, are you all right'?"
"Fine," he said. Even his voice was weak.
She came around the chair and looked down at him. Her necklace was back on around her neck. She hadn't returned all the way to the thirty-year old he’d known, but she was close. He put her age at somewhere around forty-five now.