by Joanne Fluke
“Uh . . . no,” she forced herself to say. “I . . . I just got a little dizzy, and we got off. I took him to the house of mirrors instead.”
“Mirrors,” the little boy repeated, looking up at her trustingly. “Funny mirrors.”
“Looks like he had a good time, anyway,” David chuckled, tousling the little boy’s hair. “Well, we’d better get these two back to their mother now. I hope she got a good rest.”
“David? C-could you take them back?” Kathi stammered. “I-I’m still feeling a little dizzy. I think I’ll just sit over there between those tents and wait for you.”
“Sure, honey,” David grinned. “Too much riding? You just sit down over there, and I’ll be right back.”
She could barely concentrate enough to get to the grassy space. David was taking the two children back now, and she could see him walking toward the bench. He had looked just like that little boy when he was young, she could tell that. David had the same wheat-colored hair and blue eyes. He’d had freckles too, freckles and chubby legs all skinned up from falling down.
“So tired,” Kathi murmured, sitting down carefully on the grass. The sun glinted off the mirrors on the merry-go-round; it hurt her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to close them. It was beginning again, the loud calliope music and the bright circles going faster and faster. Everything was getting fuzzy, and it didn’t make any difference that the sun hurt her eyes. Everything hurt, and there was no stopping the pain once it started.
“Kathi? Kathi! Are you sleeping?” He knew she wasn’t sleeping because her eyes were wide open, unfocused even when he held her head and shook her. She was like a lifeless mannequin. David called her name again, anguish in his voice. He was unsure whether he should slap her to bring her out of her trance, or hold her tightly in his arms. This time he had no idea what had set her off, but it was the most frightening thing he had ever seen. She was paralyzed, leaning heavily in his arms, not feeling, not seeing, not hearing.
As David struggled with his doubts and guilt for having brought her here in the first place, a little color began to come back into Kathi’s cheeks. The pain gradually left her body as sounds began to register in her mind.
She had been aware of the voice for some time now. It slowly invaded her consciousness, first sounding like an insect droning, and then sharpening to tinny words like a cheap transistor radio turned just below an audible volume. She felt as if she were emerging from a fog, gradually aware of her arms and legs and the prickly spears of dry grass pressing against her skin.
She tried to open her eyes, but they were shut now—glued shut. When had she shut them? They were the eyes of a child who has slept too hard after a long ordeal of bedtime tears. Her eyelids felt scratchy and heavy. Finally, she managed to lift them open and discover where she was. The voice was clear now, and David was calling her name, calling it over and over. Now, at last, his voice registered in her hazy, cotton-clouded mind.
“Kathi, please . . . come on, honey. Talk to me. Tell me what happened. Please, baby, talk to me!”
“I-I’m all right now,” Kathi stammered, eyes focusing at last on David’s troubled face. “I . . . I think the heat got to me. The sun’s so bright this afternoon!”
David nodded slowly, the pleading look on his face turning to weary resignation. She still wasn’t going to tell him. Would she never trust him enough to share her fears? And how could he make her tell him without putting even more pressure on her? She would be afraid of him too, if he kept asking her, and that was the very thing he had to avoid. Even though every nerve in his body was begging to know what was happening to her, he had to be patient and understanding, to wait until she was ready to talk to him. She would tell him eventually. He was sure.
CHAPTER 14
It seemed as if she had just fallen asleep when she heard someone calling her. Her eyes snapped open, and she glanced at the clock. Midnight.
Kathi sat up in bed and looked at David. No, he hadn’t called out her name. He was sleeping soundly, one hand thrown across his face as if to shield himself from a blow. She must have dreamed the voice.
Kathi stifled a yawn and snuggled down again, pulling the covers back up to her chin. She shut her eyes, but they snapped open again, as if her eyelids were on springs. Now that she was awake, sleep eluded her like a fickle lover, tempting her by making her body warm and drowsy, but forcing her eyes to open. Midnight. She hadn’t had enough sleep, and her mind cried out for the comfort of unthinking oblivion. If only she could sleep forever. Sleep to get away from the nightmare she was living . . . sleep to block out the terror . . . sleep . . . quiet, peaceful sleep.
An exasperated sigh hissed past her lips, and she sat up again, blinking owlishly in the darkness. Perhaps she needed another of the tranquilizers the doctor had given her. If she took one pill right now, she ought to be able to get back to sleep.
Being very careful not to jiggle the bed, Kathi lifted the covers on her side and slid her feet into her slippers. Then she scooted out from under the cocoon of blankets and padded softly to the bathroom. No need to turn on the light. She knew exactly where the pills were.
The bathroom was dark, and she could hear the sound of David’s soft snoring as she opened the medicine cabinet. He was breathing heavily, sleeping deeply, and she envied him.
The coldness of the porcelain washbowl seemed to penetrate her fingers as she leaned against it, traveling up her arms and freezing her in a kind of numbed despair. She was lonely, lonely except for the spirit invading her mind. For some reason, she was calm tonight, calmly accepting the inevitability of whatever was going to happen. There was no help for her, no hope for her. None at all, so why pretend? Why fight? It all seemed so useless. She was tired of pretending and making up excuses for herself. Wouldn’t it be better if she could just let Sheri Walker have her way?
The mirror was slashed with moonlight, and she caught a glimpse of her black-pupiled eyes. There was a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, and she blinked rapidly, frightened at the madness she saw reflected back at her. There was evil around her. She had to get out before she became a part of it.
There seemed to be a tangible pull between her reflection and her body, leaving her helpless and immobile for what seemed like an eternity. Then, with all her strength, Kathi moved, turning and fleeing her own image to stumble into the living room. In the back of her mind she knew the movement had no purpose, but she couldn’t stay and become the pawn of Sheri Walker’s spirit. She had to fight even though the battle was already lost.
She tried to run, but her legs were heavy and leaden, as if she were pulling them through molasses, every step in slow motion until she reached the couch, exhausted. The wineglasses she and David had used that evening were still sitting on the coffee table, sparkling and fragile in the pale light that slanted in through the venetian blinds. She saw, rather than felt, her fingers reach out toward them.
“Now, darling, the time is now.” The voice, for which Kathi had been waiting, called out to her. “This time you’ll make it, you’ll see. This time it will be much easier to find your way home. Everyone’s waiting for you.”
For a brief moment, resistance showed on Kathi’s trembling face. Then her hand shot out as if it had been pushed by an invisible force, and knocked the glasses off the table, shattering them. She stared down at the jagged pieces of crystal. Her hands rose to her ears, ready to block out the voice, but then her arms dropped despairingly to her sides. She couldn’t block it out by covering her ears. The voice was in her own head; she had no choice but to listen to it.
Somehow her hand moved down, and she was kneeling to pick up the sharp, jagged piece of stem that glittered on the floor. She stood again, and calmly pressed the stem to her wrist with fingers that obeyed the relentless inner voice.
“Press down . . . that’s it, darling. Press down hard and deep. You mustn’t stop now. It’s so easy . . . so easy to come home again.”
She watched as her hand moved and a bri
ght drop of blood appeared, black and rich in the moonlight. The voice was right. It was so much easier this time. Much easier than the train . . . much, much easier . . .
A sound. A creaking. The flash of the bedroom light.
“Kathi? Where are you, Kathi?”
The moment passed, and suddenly she could see herself clearly, the crystal stem cutting into her flesh. The blood was flowing now, and she gave a small cry, dropping the glass and holding her wrist tightly. What was she doing? What was happening?
“Kathi?” David’s voice again, impatient and sharp with worry. “Are you all right? What was the noise?”
“I-I’m fine, David,” she called out, responding to him almost out of habit. “I . . . I was just cleaning up in here, and I dropped a wineglass.”
Slowly, almost with reverence, she picked up the pieces of glass and walked to the kitchen, dropping them into the wastebasket. She ran cold water in the sink and cleaned her wrist, squeezing it tightly with her fingers until the flow of blood stopped. It was only a small cut, not deep enough to do any real damage.
She gave a shudder as she looked down at her wrist. If she told David about this, he would think she had been trying to commit suicide. Kathi knew that wasn’t true. She hadn’t been trying to kill herself. But someone—Sheri Walker?—had attempted to kill her, and she had almost succeeded.
CHAPTER 15
She heard the telephone ring, and David’s arm brushed across her to answer it on the first ring. How could he be so alert at this time of the morning? Kathi was sure it was early, very early, judging by the way she felt.
“Sure, I’ll tell Kathi she’s got a package. No problem at all. We’ll stop by and pick it up this afternoon.”
As the hair on David’s arm tickled her breasts, Kathi felt the small beginnings of desire. They hadn’t made love in so long. Perhaps it would be all right in the morning with the sun shining brightly outside the window. She wouldn’t feel the terror in the daylight, would she? It couldn’t be the same as it was at night, when that awful rocking rhythm beckoned her to frightening dreams.
“Kathi?”
David was shaking her softly, and she could feel his gaze on her face. She felt warm and loving, still sleepy and comforted. Return to the womb. Wasn’t that what the psychologists called it when you nestled in the covers, curled up securely against the world? She would have to ask David if that was the proper term. And she would ask him about the package too. Package? What had she heard about a package?
“Kathi, it’s almost noon,” David’s voice was calling again. She felt his hand smooth the tumbled strands of hair from her cheeks. Now her face felt bare, and she wondered whether he thought she was still beautiful.
“Hmmmmmmm,” Kathi responded at last, even though she wanted to sink back into the comfort of slumber. “Noon?”
“Noon,” David repeated, a hint of laughter in his voice. “It’s almost noon, and you’ve got a package at the dorm. It just came in this morning. I thought we could pick it up when we get the rest of your things.”
“Oh . . . good idea,” Kathi mumbled, still unwilling to relinquish her warm cocoon of covers. “Almost noon? I thought it was still early in the morning.”
“You had a good night’s sleep, baby.” David grinned, his lips soft on her face, sweet and snuggling like the touch of petals against her skin. “How about making the trip to the dorm now, and then we can try that new Chinese place for lunch?”
“Sure,” Kathi said, opening her eyes all the way and looking at him for the first time. She loved the way he looked, just awakened and tousled from the night. So capable, so strong, the man she loved here in their own bed. Perhaps if she just reached out and let him know that the time was right, he would—
“Come on then,” David laughed, hopping out of bed with a leap that set the lumpy mattress bouncing. “I bet you got a care package from home. Sally must have made fudge for you. Remember that last package?”
Too late, but it didn’t matter. He was out of bed already. Later then, she would show him how much she loved him. Later in the afternoon would be wonderful too, the sun still warm and shining.
Kathi smiled, and then laughed as she remembered the last box of fudge that had come in the mail. David had raved about it, and they’d gorged themselves until they were almost sick. He was right; it was probably a package from home. Sally would do something like that to make her feel better. And now that she thought about it, she was hungry, her mouth watering at the memory of that delicious fudge.
All of Sally’s cooking was fantastic, but Kathi liked her breakfasts best of all. Bacon—crunchy and crisp—with sleepy-eyed eggs the way only Sally could make them—yolks still soft with a tasty pepper-studded covering over them. There were the little juicy sausages and a steaming plate of French toast, amply seasoned with cinnamon and nutmeg. Pancakes . . . yes . . . fluffy and light with warmed maple sugar, and . . . and . . .
“Ooooh!” Kathi gasped, sitting bolt upright in bed. Her head was suddenly whirling, and she felt as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “I . . . I think I’m going to be sick!”
David turned to look at her quickly as she sprinted for the bathroom and slammed the door closed behind her with a loud bang. Then he grinned in understanding. Too much junk food at the fair. She’d eaten like a starving waif, and now her stomach was upset. He never should have permitted those Polish sausages with sauerkraut after the hot fudge sundae. What a combination! She’d eaten like a pregnant mother with cravings yesterday.
The thought made David stop in his tracks, and he repeated it slowly, under his breath. She couldn’t be . . . but that would explain everything! Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember her having her period last month. And some women experienced all sorts of strange emotional upsets when they were pregnant. That would certainly explain the pressure, the guilt about their relationship resulting in nightmares after they’d made love, the worry about her family’s reaction and the press finding out about it before the election . . .
David let the air out of his lungs as he thought about it. Then a grin appeared on his face. It was so simple! Why the hell hadn’t he thought of it earlier? David’s grin grew wider. Sure enough, that might just be the whole problem. Maybe she was even afraid that he’d leave her. Didn’t she know that he’d do anything for her? If Kathi was pregnant, they’d get married right away. He’d been promised that teaching assistantship in the psych department next semester, and though their finances would be strained, they could make it. Hell, they could work everything out if that was all it was.
David’s mind began to race as he thought of the possibilities. He’d sign up for married-student housing. That would be cheaper than the apartment. They’d work something out so Kathi could continue her classes after the baby was born. She could put in a couple of hours a week at the Child Care Center and get care for the baby free that way. Kathi pregnant with . . . a little blond girl with ribbons in her hair, dragging a teddy bear around by the ear . . . or maybe a boy, towheaded and tough, riding a bicycle and playing baseball in the backyard.
He knew the odds against student marriages, but theirs would be an exception. They would make it an exception. Damn, he thought. So that’s what this was all about. It wasn’t really a problem after all!
David looked up as Kathi came out of the bathroom, and there was so much love in his eyes that she was caught off guard. “I . . . I guess I ate too much at the fair,” she mumbled, heading for the closet.
“That’s all right, baby.” David grinned. Kathi looked white and shaken, and he longed to pull her into his arms and tell her that he knew. He took a step toward her, and then he stopped, hands falling back to his sides. This was not the time. He wasn’t going to botch it and tell her now. They’d get her things at the dorm and go straight to that new Chinese restaurant for lunch. Then he’d ask her to marry him without letting on that he knew about the baby. That way she’d never be able to fear that he’d married her just because
she was pregnant.
Pleased with himself, David turned away and stuck his hands into his jeans pockets. He felt like whistling, shouting maybe. Hell! He was feeling like a proud father already, and the baby wasn’t even born yet! He was willing to bet that Kathi’s nightmares and strange trances would stop in a hurry after he asked her to marry him. The heavy weight he’d been carrying around for the last few weeks was gone, and he felt so damn good it was hard to control himself.
David suddenly became aware that Kathi was staring at him oddly. He forced a calm expression onto his face, but he couldn’t hide the laughter in his eyes. She probably thought he was nuts, but that was all right. At least he knew she wasn’t nuts now, and that was what counted!
“What’s got into you?” Kathi asked, frowning and smiling at the same time. “You look like it’s the night before Christmas. Do you really like Sally’s fudge that much?”
“I sure do,” David chuckled. “Come on, Kathi. Let’s hurry. I’ve got something very important to ask you over lunch.”
* * *
The package was small, not at all what Kathi had expected. She held it in her hands and burned with curiosity as they studied the menu in the Chinese restaurant.
“Why don’t you open it, hon?” David suggested, watching the way her fingers curled and uncurled around the small box. “Go ahead. I know your curiosity’s killing you.”
“I . . . I think I’ll wait until we get home,” Kathi said, placing the box on the table between them. “Will you order for me, David? I have to go to the restroom.”
Once in the small pink-tiled room, Kathi leaned dizzily against the sink and stared at her face in the mirror. She looked sick, pale, and hollow-eyed again. Something about the package from Sally sent chills up and down her spine and made her hands tremble uncontrollably. There was something inside that small square box she didn’t want to see—something she didn’t want to know. It was another link to Sheri Walker . . . she could feel it . . . a link that Kathi didn’t want. She wished she could block Sheri out of her mind, erect a barrier that nothing could penetrate. She wanted to be strong, so strong that no ghostly force, no matter how desperate, could turn her into an unwilling receiver.
