by Joanne Fluke
David had urged her to come to the party, telling her that getting away from it all and enjoying an evening with friends would do her good. He went to parties so seldom that she couldn’t refuse him. She was almost obligated to go, no matter how tired and upset she was. She had hoped that everyone else’s gay mood would be contagious . . . at least, that had been her hope when she’d first entered the room with David. Now she knew better. The antics of the other students were making her even more depressed. As the minutes ticked by, she was feeling more and more removed from them, and sinking deeper and deeper into herself.
The burst of laughter that greeted the punch line of Rich’s joke almost made Kathi wince. She forced a laugh that sounded weak even to her own ears, and looked around desperately for David. The stale air in the smoke-filled room was about to choke her, and she could feel the perspiration break out on her neck and trickle down between her breasts. They’d been here an hour already, and Kathi was more than ready to leave.
David was over near the kitchen doorway talking to a slim redhead in tight jeans, someone from his abnormal-psych class. Kathi felt an unreasonable stab of jealousy, but she forced herself to relax and act unconcerned. She couldn’t ask him to leave now; everyone would think she was jealous. She’d have to wait until he finished his conversation.
Kathi picked up her wine and sipped at it, watching David out of the corner of her eye. He looked like he was having such a good time. He and his friend were gesturing wildly and laughing now, and tears of guilt sprang to Kathi’s eyes as she saw how relaxed and happy he was with the other girl. She hadn’t been very good company for him lately, with her withdrawn moods and her frightening nightmares. If she wanted to keep him happy, she’d better start acting more like her old self again. David wouldn’t be content with someone who was frightened and self-absorbed when there were so many less complicated and more exciting women to choose from.
I’ll die if I lose him. I’ve got to smile and laugh even if I’m not having a good time. He can’t guess how desperate and afraid I feel, or it’ll change our whole relationship, and then he’ll want out. I couldn’t stand to lose him like I lost—who? Who? What am I thinking? I haven’t lost anyone before!
Kathi blinked and looked at David again. Now his head was tipped back and he was laughing again at something his friend had said. His hand moved up to stroke his beard, a gesture that made him look thoughtful, intense. He was so damned attractive that other girls were always throwing themselves at him, but so far, he hadn’t ever looked twice at them. Would he decide that one of those beautiful, smiling girls was more fun than she was? Would he leave her if she told him the depth of her fears?
“He’s gone! He’s gone! Everyone’s gone and now there’s nobody!”
“I’m still here, Sheri Bear. You can’t see me, but I’m here. I’ll always be here, anytime you want me.”
Kathi gripped her wineglass so hard she was almost afraid it would shatter. She knew that if she sat still for another second, she’d scream right out loud. She reached over and found her purse, rummaging through it frantically. There they were, the aspirins she carried with her everywhere now. Three with the glass of wine. That ought to help. Just the act of doing something helped a lot, even a small thing like digging through her purse. The conversation with Vivian had upset her . . . that was all it was. Talking about the accident seemed . . . dangerous somehow. It gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. And then finding out that she really was pregnant added another worry to everything else that was wrong. If only she could have asked Vivian who Sheri Walker was, there might have been some simple explanation. But she couldn’t call Vivian again and ask more questions. If she did, she was bound to let something slip. There would be some hint of fear in her voice, she knew, and Vivian was very perceptive. She couldn’t let Vivian know that she was upset. God, there were so many people she had to protect. She couldn’t tell David, or he would worry about her. She couldn’t tell Vivian or her father, or they’d worry. She couldn’t tell anyone.
“You’re all through, aren’t you, Kathi?” one of the girls from the dorm asked, plunking down on the sagging couch. “How does it feel to be finished? I’ve still got two exams to go, one tomorrow and one Friday morning.”
“I . . . I’m glad it’s all over,” Kathi replied, fixing a smile on her face. Talking should help. At least she couldn’t let her mind wander if she had to concentrate on holding a conversation. “I thought you were dropping out this semester, Carol. Bev said you were leaving school to get married.”
Carol gave a shrug of her shapely shoulders and lifted her eyebrows. “I thought better of it.” She grinned. “With all the great men around here, it’d be a waste of time to tie myself down to one. How about you, Kathi? Are you and David planning anything permanent?”
Kathi’s face turned pink. Her cheeks felt fiery, and she had the insane urge to blurt out everything to Carol, the biggest gossip in the dorm. She could say, “No, I’m going to have the baby, and then we’ll see if we want to get married.” The news would be all over school within five minutes.
“No—” Kathi answered, glancing over at David, who was still deep in conversation with the redheaded woman. “Nothing permanent, Carol, at least not yet. I never make any important decisions during midterm week.”
“Good policy.” Carol grinned and reached out for the bowl of pretzels on the table. “I never make any decisions during midterm week either. I’m not even going to decide who to sleep with tonight. I figure I’ll let them all fight over me, and the last one standing will have the privilege,” she teased.
Kathi bit her lip to keep back her catty retort. From what she’d heard, it was a privilege quite a few of the men on campus had enjoyed and lived to tell about. What was the matter with her tonight, anyway? She had no reason to be rude. Carol was just trying to be friendly.
Kathi was still trying to think of something to say, when David broke away from his conversation and began to push through the crowd toward her.
“Oh, here comes David,” Kathi said quickly, jumping to her feet. “I guess it’s time to go. See you around, Carol.”
She moved away from the couch and hurried to meet David, maneuvering around groups of students in her way. With every closing step, she could feel the relief grow and the smile on her face get wider and wider. David was so handsome, with his wheat-colored hair and his full beard. She remembered how she’d teased him when he started growing it, accusing him of trying to look like Papa Freud. If there was one word in the English language to describe David, it would have to be rugged. He always looked just as if he’d come in from chopping down a tree in the forest. He had the healthy tan of an outdoorsman, and there was something about him that was . . . well . . . she guessed the word was virile. That was it. David looked virile.
“Hey, what’s the big smile for?” David grinned back at her. “You look like you’re half-loaded. Have you been hitting the wine, Kathi?”
“Nope!” Kathi protested, shaking her head and smiling even wider. Of course he looked virile. He ought to! But that was her secret . . . the unborn child, and Sheri Walker.
“Oh!” Kathi gasped, stumbling slightly and reaching out for David’s arm to steady herself. “Could we go, David? It’s awfully warm in here.”
“Sure,” David agreed instantly, casting an anxious glance. “Another headache, honey?”
“Well . . . just a little one,” Kathi admitted, clenching her fists to keep herself from clutching her head with the pain. “It’s really noisy in here. The lack of sleep must be catching up with me.”
She barely managed to control herself as David called out his good-byes and made a path for them to the door. Then they were outside in the cold night air, and her head began to clear. Perhaps it had only been the stuffy room and the noise that bothered her. She was feeling much better now.
Her hand snuggled in David’s pocket, they began to walk the six blocks to their apartment building. It was chilly and foggy, a combination t
hat Kathi usually loved. All the ugliness of the old buildings was shrouded by the fog, and the streetlights shimmered softly in the thick night air like a Van Gogh painting. Tonight, though, the fog seemed to chill Kathi’s very bones. It was concealing too much tonight, hiding something ominous, and Kathi felt uneasy, as if she were on the verge of discovering something unpleasant.
“Cold?” David asked, pulling her a little closer to him. “You’re shivering. You should have worn more than a sweater tonight, hon. It’s damn cold for October.”
“I’ll get my warm things from the dorm on Friday,” Kathi promised, hurrying a little to keep pace with David’s long strides. She could feel the dampness settle on her bare head, and it was hard to keep from shivering even more.
Kathi held her breath as David pulled her closer to his warm body. The night air never seemed to chill David. He loved the cold. But even though Kathi knew she should feel comforted by David’s protective gesture, being this close to him made her uneasy.
For a long moment, there was no sound except the crunch of their footsteps on the carpet of fallen leaves. Then Kathi tensed as she heard the sound she had unknowingly been waiting for, the mournful wail of a train whistle as they neared the railroad crossing halfway to their apartment.
“We can beat it if we hurry,” David said, pulling Kathi along faster. “Hurry up, Kathi. I don’t want you to stand out here in the cold and wait for one of those long freight trains.”
A current of fear ran so strongly through Kathi’s slender body that she thought she was going to faint. “No!” she gasped, pulling back on David’s arm. “No! We-we’ll wait! It’s not that cold! I . . . I don’t want to try to beat the train, David . . . really!”
“Hey, it’s all right,” David said softly, stepping back and hugging her. “I didn’t know you were afraid of trains. We’ll just stand by the tracks and wait then. We can count the cars as they go by, how’s that?”
“Uh . . . fine,” Kathi agreed, forcing herself to keep up with David as he walked toward the tracks. She didn’t want to go any farther, but something was pulling her closer and closer to the gleaming wet tracks. She shuddered violently. After the accident, when she was very young, she had been afraid of trains for a while. But she’d got over that years ago. So why, after all this time, did she suddenly feel so frightened at the sound of a train?
Kathi concentrated on the sidewalk, stepping over the cracks in the old cement with a sense of doom. Step on a crack, break your mother’s back. But her mother was dead, killed long ago at a train crossing just like this one.
They were almost there now . . . almost at the gleaming strands that shone in her nightmares. Kathi’s legs felt like wooden sticks. She could no longer feel the sidewalk under her feet, and she moved jerkily, like a windup toy, one step after another. No, she would not look up. She was afraid to look up, afraid to see the bright light piercing through the fog as the train approached. She could look down at her shoes and the ground, even shut her eyes, but there was no way of closing her ears against the rumbling forceful sound that grew louder and louder. The train was screaming at her . . . calling her like a siren’s song . . .
“I’m scared! I want my mama! The train’s going to hurt me and I’m scared!”
“It’s all right. I’m right here with you, Sheri Bear. See? You don’t have to cry. There’s nothing that can hurt you. It’s just an old train, and trains can’t come off the track. You can believe me, Sheri Bear. You can always believe everything the Tiger says.”
Kathi looked up suddenly, trying to break the cord of fear that the voices stirred in her. It was Sheri Walker again, and someone else—someone called the Tiger—and the shrill voices were invading her mind until there was no place for her to think on her own anymore. How could she think when they were screaming at her over the sound of the train? Her eyes were fixed on David’s face, praying silently that he would find a way to silence the voices, to jolt her out of the nightmare and let her be herself again.
Now her whole body was shaking, and she had the crazy impulse to move—to run toward the oncoming train. Her knees bent slightly, as ready as a runner for the sound of the starting gun, and her hand reached forward as if it were being pulled toward the track. The only thing holding her back was the taut line of David’s gaze, the lifeline that held her eyes fixed with his.
“Don’t look away, David,” she pleaded silently. “Please don’t look away. Keep me from doing it . . . keep me safe. Please, David! Keep me—”
But he was turning, not reading the anguished plea on her lips, the terror in her eyes. He was turning toward the tracks, an eager smile on his face. He liked trains. How could he like trains when . . . when what? There had been a reason in her mind, but now it was gone, the inside of her head as cold as marble, brittle marble that would shatter into a thousand pieces if another thought stabbed it.
Suddenly, she was burning up, a burst of adrenaline releasing the frozen cubes of her feet, and then she was moving, jerking suddenly away to rush headlong toward the tracks.
“Kathi!” Strong arms grabbed her and she struggled fiercely. Didn’t he know she had to do it? Couldn’t he hear the voices screaming out at her, demanding that she meet the rushing tons of metal? Why was he pulling her back when she had to go?
“Kathi!” He was dragging her now, away from the beckoning silver metal. She could feel her fists beating at his chest, but it was like trying to move a mountain. He had her trapped.
Now he was turning to look at her, staring at her with an astonished expression on his face, and she read the fear in his eyes. His whole face looked different. . . a face she’d never seen before. His mouth was moving, saying something she couldn’t hear over the relentless voices in her head.
“Kathi!” All at once, David’s frantic cry penetrated her mind. The train was gone. The invisible force had disappeared. She could hear him again.
“Kathi! What is it, Kathi? Tell me, baby. Tell me!”
But her mind was a blank. If she could only find the words to tell him about the stabbing, chilling horror that had seized her. But she was powerless against it, and there were no words for this . . . no words at all that anyone could understand.
Suddenly, it was cold, bone cold, the cold of death and icy glaciers glimmering around her. The voices were gone, and there was nothing in their place. An emptiness, that was all. How long had she been standing there, shivering with this terrible cold?
“Kathi!”
She heard the urgency in his voice, and her hand moved, inch by inch, to touch the bristly hair of his beard. The numbness was fading, but excruciatingly slowly. Would she ever be able to talk again?
“I-I’m all right.” Her voice sounded dim and faraway, but an expression of relief washed over David’s face. There was a current of warmth running down her fingers where she was touching his face, traveling to thaw the icy stillness of her mind. Now it was moving to her chest and she could breathe again . . . and down to her legs, trembling as they came alive. She drew a quick breath of relief and managed a shaky smile.
“I . . . I guess I never told you that I’m terrified of trains,” she murmured, stumbling over the words. “I always have been, ever since the accident. We hit a train when I was four. My . . . my mother was killed. I should have said something before, but . . . but it never came up.”
With each word she uttered, the numbness dissolved. His arms closed around her, and she accepted the lie for what it was, the only way she had of making him believe that everything was all right.
“Jesus! You were so scared you almost ran right out in front of the train!” David said, hugging her tightly. “Oh, honey . . . I wish you’d said something back there. No wonder you didn’t want to try to beat the train! I never would have brought you this close if I’d known.”
“I-it’s all right now. I just wanted to see if I was still afraid,” Kathi improvised. “I guess I am, hm? I’ll never be an engineer on a train.”
“Well! You sure
had me scared for a minute!” David breathed. “Come on, you must be freezing. We’ll go right home, and I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate.”
With his arms still around her shaking body, David pulled Kathi forward and across the tracks. He’d never seen her so terrified before. She’d been so frightened that she’d run toward the train instead of away from it. Kathi’s fear seemed way out of proportion to her explanation about the accident, but he wasn’t going to ask her any more questions now. The only important thing was that it had happened again. She had left him, escaped to that dark frightening place of her nightmares—this time when she was wide awake—and there seemed to be nothing he could do to convince her to open up to him. Kathi was slipping away to a world within her own mind, and there was no way to hold her back unless she told him what was wrong. She was fighting him, struggling to make him think that everything was fine, but he knew better.
She had almost stopped shaking now. David tried to shield her slender body from the cold as they hurried toward the apartment. He wasn’t going to say anything more about it to her tonight, but he planned to talk to his abnormal-psych professor tomorrow and get some advice. It was the only thing he could do without Kathi’s cooperation. Ideally, he would have liked to talk Kathi into seeing Professor Kauffman herself, but she’d never agree to see a psychologist, not before the election. There was no point in even suggesting that. He’d talk to the professor right after his test tomorrow and take his advice. Then he and Kathi would have a long talk. If Kathi didn’t share her fears with someone, they’d only continue to grow, and she would slip away from him and be lost forever. That possibility was one David refused to even think about.
CHAPTER 8
She thought of it the moment she woke up. David was in the kitchen, making his coffee quietly so he wouldn’t wake her. He always made much more noise when he tried to be quiet, and Kathi almost called out to him that she was awake, but quickly thought better of it. Let him leave, thinking she was still asleep. That way there wouldn’t have to be any explanations. She could leave him a note and be back by tonight. It would only take an hour to fly down to Los Angeles and see Sally. Today was Thursday, Sally’s day off, and if anyone knew about Sheri Walker, it would be Sally. She wished she had thought of it sooner.
