After a second or two it occurred to me I better take a look outside again, make sure no one was coming. I didn’t want to do it. It seemed like a long way back to the door. Still, I thought it was the smartest thing to do.
I groaned as I forced myself to stand up. I made my way back to the door slowly. While I was there, I turned off the living room light again. I looked out the window while the computer continued booting behind me. There were still no lights outside, no cars coming.
Soon the laptop was fully working, its screen bright in the dark room. I moved back to the desk by its light, gripping the furniture for support while I went. Sport followed along beside me. I plunked down into the desk chair again. Sport sat down next to me and watched.
I brought up the browser and used it to find the phone program. There was no camera in the laptop so Beth wouldn’t be able to see me, but I’d still be able to see her. I brought up Beth’s number and called it. I sent up a little prayer that she’d be home.
The ring tone sounded so loudly in the quiet house, I looked over my shoulder at the window to make sure there was still no one coming. The tone sounded again.
Then it stopped. I heard Beth’s voice, charged, excited.
“Charlie?”
A swirling image appeared on the laptop. A caption said, “Video starting.”
“Beth, it’s me.”
“I can’t see you.”
“There’s no camera in my computer. Is your camera on?”
“Yes, you should see me in a minute. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. How about you?”
“I’m fine. I’ve been so worried about you. Did you find the man you were looking for?”
“I found him, Beth but…”
I was about to tell her what happened when the video came on. There she was, her living image on the screen right in front of me. Seeing her again… it’s hard to describe what it was like. Even feeling as bad as I did, the sight of her was like a sort of flash of light going off inside me. I reached out for the screen and touched the image, feeling only the monitor’s cool, featureless surface against my fingertips.
“Beth,” I said softly.
She smiled. I moved my fingers down over the side of her face, trying to imagine I was really touching her.
“Beth,” I said. I could barely get the words out. “Beth, I remember.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “What…?”
“I remember. I remember everything. I remember us.”
“Oh, Charlie,” she said, her voice breaking.
“I remember all about us, all of it.”
Beth covered her mouth with both her hands. I heard her sob and say: “Thank God, thank God.”
“Everything’s starting to come back to me now, soon I’ll have the whole story but…”
Just then, Sport let out a bark. I turned and saw headlights flash on the front windows.
“Charlie?” said Beth. “What was that noise?”
The headlights outside grew brighter. A car was approaching up the dirt drive.
Beth said, “Is something wrong?”
I turned back to look at her. I would’ve given anything not to have to say good-bye, but I had no choice.
“I have to go,” I told her.
“Go,” she answered at once. “Don’t worry. I’ll be here. Just go. Stay safe.”
Quickly, I turned off the computer. I had to close the lid to shut out its light. That wasn’t the way it was when I found it, but I hoped I’d be gone before anyone noticed the difference.
I stood up-and the minute I did, I knew I was in trouble.
My head swam. My legs felt as if they were made of rubber. I looked back at the window. The headlights glared in at me as the car grew near. I stood there unsteadily, staring at the lights and, as I did, they grew huge and out of focus and then dwindled to a small point in the darkness so that I thought I was going to faint.
It was the fever. It was getting worse, much worse. I wasn’t sure I could even walk-but I had to try. I had to get out of here.
There was no chance of running away. I just didn’t have the strength. But I thought if I could get out of the house, maybe I could make it to that shed next door. I could hide out in there until I felt better.
The headlights were right outside now, right in front of the porch. No way to escape through the front door. I had to find another exit.
As the car came to a stop outside the house, the headlights shone in on me through the front window. I could make out the room in the glow. I threaded my way between the chairs and end tables and moved toward an archway on the back wall. I passed through it into another room. It was darker in here, but I could just make out a dining table, some chairs, a sideboard. Another door on the far wall. I took a step toward it…
Then the room tilted sickeningly. It felt as if it were going to turn completely upside down and dump me off the floor onto the ceiling. My stomach pitched. I grabbed hold of… something, I don’t know what. The back of a chair, I guess. My feet felt as if they were anvils. I couldn’t lift them. I couldn’t move…
Now I heard the front door opening. Sport was barking happily to welcome his people home. The light in the living room went on.
I heard a little boy’s high, piping voice: “And then Dan said they’d let me play tomorrow, only they couldn’t today because the game was too important…”
A woman’s lower, quieter voice answered wearily, “Well, that’s good. Quiet, Sport.”
“Hi, Sport!” said the boy.
The dog’s barking stopped and was replaced by happy panting.
I had to go, had to get out of here. I took a heavy step toward the door. There had to be a back way.
I took another step-but I hadn’t let go of the chair. I didn’t have the strength to let go of it. As I moved, the chair tilted over and fell to the floor with a crash. I lost my footing and stumbled to the side until my back thudded into the wall.
Sport let out another bark in the living room.
“What was that, Mommy?”
I heard the woman answer, her voice tense: “I don’t know.”
“Is someone here?”
“Ssh, Larry. I don’t know.”
I tried to move to the door, to get out, but I felt if I let go of the wall I would topple over. The shadows whirled around me. My thoughts were muddy and confused. Red and blue lights seemed to flash in the darkness as if police cars were closing in on me. Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard my mother sobbing.
“Is someone in there?”
That was the woman, calling from the living room. Her voice was soft, tentative, afraid. Sport came into the archway, wagging his tail. He let out another happy bark, this one at me. I stared at him dumbly, my mouth hanging open.
“Is someone in there?” the woman called again from the living room. “I’m calling the police right now!”
Then the dining room light snapped on.
I saw the woman-the woman from the photographs in the kitchen. She was staring at me from the archway. Her expression was both frightened and stern. She had the little boy clutched against her leg. He stared at me too, his eyes wide and worried. Sport stood beside them, barking and wagging his tail.
“Who are you?” she said. “What are you doing in my house? What do you want?” But her eyes softened as she looked at me. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “My God, look at you. Are you ill?”
I couldn’t answer her. I could only gape at her, dazed. I didn’t quite know where I was anymore. I couldn’t quite figure out what was happening. There was so much confusion. The lights flashing. The dog barking. My mother crying.
“Mom?” I said then. “Mom… I’m so sorry.”
And I slid down the wall to the floor.
PART IV
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Fever This time the past came back to me in fragments and in dreams.
I was in a courtroom-but the courtroom was bizarre. The angles of the walls slanted in and out as the place got larger and smaller. The judge’s bench was huge. It towered above me, seeming to soar up toward a ceiling as high as the sky. The judge was an older man with a lot of silver hair. He glared down at me from his great height where I sat at the defense table far, far below. The defense table seemed to sit in a pool of glaring light with the rest of the court in shadows around me. In that glaring light, I felt exposed and vulnerable, put on display like a butterfly pinned to a board.