She laughed. “You probably wouldn’t do that even if I asked you to.”
“Probably not. Unless you’d been stung by a jellyfish.”
She smiled coyly. “You already did that. When we were eight and I stepped on the one that washed up on the beach. That was very heroic of you, relieving the sting like that.”
“You’re the one who knew about doing it. I only did as you asked.”
“Will?”
“What?”
She hesitated. “What if I did ask you to tie me up? What would you do?”
He couldn’t make his voice work.
“Well?”
Jung started to stand up, but Will stopped him from jumping off his lap. “Don’t I, uh, always try to accommodate you?”
“You—you do.” She was sounding pretty odd herself and she wouldn’t look at him. “Um, listen, I know you’re keeping something from me.” She madly scratched Freud’s cheeks, her face blazing red. “If we can talk like this—why won’t you tell me what happened to you tonight?”
“I don’t remember anything that happened more than five minutes ago.”
“Me either.” She looked at him.
In her eyes, he saw childhood summers and Halloweens; he saw all the tidepools they’d ever explored, all the trails they’d hiked. He inhaled rainstorms and the sulphur of fireworks on the Fourth of July; he smelled the waves they’d splashed in, and the soft clean scent of her shampoo. He tasted mounds of barbequed corn on the cob, buckets of popcorn consumed at matinees, root beer floats, and gingerbread. She held all the good history, none of the bad. She’s my sister, he thought. Then, No, she’s much more than that.
Maggie’s mouth was barely open. He studied her lower lip, the fullness, the slight tremble. The tip of her tongue shot out and wet it, disappearing again in a flash. Her lips looked darker than usual, but she wore no lipstick. He saw the green of her eyes through the lashes on her lowered lids. She didn’t move, but she didn’t look away either.
He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t stop his lips from dragging his face toward hers. Their lips met, warm and soft. A heady, sweet dizziness enveloped him. Time stopped. It was a chaste kiss, decades in the making. Seemingly on their own, his arms rose and his hands found Maggie’s waist and settled there, began gently drawing her closer.
Suddenly, Freud growled, then all three cats shrieked. Rorschach bounded down over Will’s and Maggie’s heads, his fur brushing over them. Jung and Freud dug their hind claws painfully into human thighs as they jumped away and fled. Instantly, Will and Maggie pulled apart. “What’s happening?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.”
Something hit the window overlooking the backyard. Will couldn’t see anything with the outdoor lights off. “Shit! Get down!” Will pulled Maggie to the floor. “Stay there.” He grabbed the remote and turned off the TV then, half-running, half-crawling below window level in case someone had fired a weapon at them, he reached a side-table lamp and flicked it off, then moved on to the main wall switches and shut them down and turned on the patio light.
Something else hit the window, hard.
In the distance, dogs howled.
“Will, be careful!” Maggie called.
He didn’t answer, just stayed low and crossed the darkened room, quickly coming to the big window. Carefully, he raised up to peer out, dropped back down without seeing anything when another hit came.
“It was a bird,” Maggie called.
“Not again,” Will groaned. Still, that was better than a bullet. He stayed to the side of the window, but stood up and looked out, saw a smear of blood. Below, three big birds—two gulls and one owl—lay on the ground, two stunned, one gull unmoving, probably dead. “It’s okay, Mags. The windows are all reinforced safety glass, and I don’t see any flocks coming.”
She joined him at the window. “Turn off the outside light so we don’t attract them.”
“Good idea.” He felt for a secondary switch beneath the open drapes and pushed it down. Darkness closed in.
Fifteen minutes passed and no more birds hit. Will closed the heavy drapes, lined to keep the setting sun out, and turned on a table lamp. “Let’s find the cats.”
He headed for his office. All three were huddled under his desk again, eyes open so wide that they looked like huge kittens. Will and Maggie squatted down, talking to and petting them. They relaxed a little, but not even Freud would purr.
Finally, Maggie rose, so Will did too. “Whatever it was that mixed up the birds was sensed by other animals, too, don’t you think?”
“I do.”
“I should get home to my guys. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“We’ll be fine.” He walked her to the front door and out into the driveway where her Forester waited. One bird, on the cement near the Subaru, fluttered to life, tried to fly, then decided to stagger away and recuperate a little first.
Maggie watched it carefully. “He’ll be okay. Call me early if those other birds are still there in the morning, and I’ll come and get them.”
“Okay.”
Maggie opened the SUV’s door then peered at the sky. “I wonder how widespread this was.”
“Good question. You’re going back to the beach in the morning?”
“I think I’d better.”
“Shall I meet you?”
“No, I’ll just trot over to the cove and make sure there aren’t any new problems. I’ll be quick . . .” She paused. “Uh . . . Nevermind.”
“Spit it out.”
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’d prefer not to go alone. When I went back at lunchtime, I ran into someone there.”
“Oh? Do you have something you’re keeping from me?”
“Yes. I was going to tell you, probably, but, you know . . .”
“Who was it?”
“Pete.”
Will’s gut clenched. “He was on the beach?”
“At the cove. He’d watched the rescuers remove the seals, but he was the only person there when I arrived. He just fries me.”
“What did he do?”
“Just said some things I didn’t appreciate.”
“Like what?”
“He’s a letch. Sleazy, you know?”
“I know. Did he make a pass?”
She smiled slowly. “What an old-fashioned expression. I like that, but it sounds so nice compared with what he said. Trash talk is what he did.”
Anger ratcheted Will’s neck up tight. He tried to hide it. “Did he touch you?”
“Not today.”
“What do you mean? He’s touched you before?”
“He tried, when we were still kids. That’s what he talked about.”
“Maggie, why didn’t you ever tell me this before?”
“Because it would only upset you. Back then, you couldn’t have done anything. I squashed his nuts for him. It was better you didn’t know.”
“Why are you telling me now?” he asked softly.
“Because I was too embarrassed until now.” She looked at the keys in her hand. “I still am, I guess, but maybe something changed a little tonight.”
“I don’t understand.”
“We were twelve. I was expecting you. I was washing dishes. He came up behind me and started nuzzling my neck, touched me, no big deal, but I let him because . . . Crap.”
Will put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to him. “Because?”
He felt the warmth of her breath through his shirt when she finally spoke. “Because, Will, I thought he was you.”
For the third time tonight, he felt dizzy. “You would have. . . you wanted me to . . .”
“Yes.”
He held her for long minutes, neither saying a word. “I’d better check my guys,” she said finally. She brushed her lips against his very briefly, then slipped into the Subaru and pulled out without looking at him.
A cool breeze swirled around him, making him aware of dampness on his shirt. Tears. He smiled sadly to him
self as he went back indoors. He had avoided looking directly at her because of the drops that had rolled from his own eyes. He was sad, joyous, and afraid, all at once. Sad that so many years were wasted, joyous that they could be over, but afraid that pursuing anything might ruin their friendship.
He locked up and stopped in the office to talk to the cats. After a few moments, they let themselves be lured out of hiding, so he rewarded them with slices of leftover chicken breast, staying in the kitchen with them until they were done.
“So are you guys coming to bed tonight?”
They stared at him.
“Bed?”
They didn’t respond to the word eagerly like they normally did, so Will went to bed alone. But five minutes after he climbed in, the Orange Boys joined him. Pleased, Will turned off the light and Freud lured him to sleep with his purr.
56
“You’re late,” Kevin said as Will approached the reception desk.
Will consulted his watch. “Three minutes. And you, Kevin, look like you had too much to drink last night.”
“Don’t rub it in.” Kevin touched the dark shadows beneath his eyes. “If I’d known you were going to be late, I could have used my ice mask and reduced my puffiness.”
“I know you have a spare one in the little freezer in the group therapy room. Go ahead and put it on.”
“In public?”
“Why not? Tell people you’re the Caped Crusader’s little buddy.”
“Don’t be bitchy, Will. I’m bitchy enough for both of us.” He looked down at the sign-in sheet, then back up, a grin spreading across his face. “We really rocked your world last night, huh?”
“Yes, I have to admit, I was impressed.”
“I guess you believe in ghosts now.”
“No.”
“How—” Kevin cringed at the sound of his own voice. “Too loud. Sorry. How can you not believe in ghosts after last night? Seeing is believing.”
“I saw something. It might have been a holograph someone’s tricking you with. It might be a mass hallucination brought on by I don’t know what.”
“Something in our water?”
“Possibly. You know, Kevin, that’s not a bad notion. Caledonia has well water. Maybe it’s been contaminated with a hallucinogen. We need to have samples tested. Or maybe it’s something in food that’s in the local market right now. It would mean it was something we had at dinner since we all saw it. Let’s start with the water. How fast can you run to your house and get a sample?”
“If we close for lunch and you go with me, we can get it then. I’m not going there alone.”
Will saw the terror in Kevin’s eyes. “Okay. Let’s do that. We can drive through CharPalace on the way.”
Kevin’s expression changed. “As long as you don’t tell Gabe. I’d love a burger.”
“Sure, but why not tell Gabe?”
“Because his cholesterol is too high. I have to set a good example or he’ll wolf them down like you do.” He paused. “How’s your cholesterol, Will?”
“Just fine. Who’s up first?”
Kevin handed him a file. “Here you go. You’ve got five minutes, okay? It’s another day of twenty-minute appointments.”
“Okay.” Will poured himself a coffee and headed for the spare office. Once inside, he sat down and opened the file, relieved to see it was a regular with bipolar disorder. Sipping his coffee, he scanned the file in thirty seconds, then let his thoughts drift to his morning beach meeting with Maggie. They had met in the parking lot. She had picked up two bear-claws and two coffees on her way down, and they sat at the picnic table again, but today, all they talked about was animal behavior. The birds outside the picture window were gone, but Will found several others in the yard, two dead, three that appeared uninjured. Maggie told him about Charlie and Rose’s cockatiels. Rose phoned early and said the birds had “gone batty” for about twenty minutes the night before, and that she and Charlie had feared they would kill themselves while trying to escape their large cage. He had thrown a cover over them, and things improved slightly.
Maggie’s cats seemed nervous, and her dog was excited, but she thought it might have been due to the marching treats that continued to invade the kitchen. She hadn’t seen any birds on her property this morning, but last night, driving home, she’d seen small groups of three to six birds sitting on sidewalks.
After they finished their breakfast, they walked onto the beach and they found a few dead fish washed up on shore and several seagulls that appeared to have dashed themselves against the rocky cliffs, as well as half a dozen pigeons, a little dazed, roosting a foot or two off the sand on the bluffs. Maggie thought they had probably fallen out of their nests high above.
Will had followed Maggie around the outcropping hiding the half moon cove, dreading what he might see. Sure enough there were seals, but only two, and although they seemed a little sluggish, Maggie declared them normal enough for government work. Five minutes later, the animals slipped into the ocean and swam away.
As Will had always feared, he and Maggie, left without animals to talk about, experienced awkward silence for the first time in all the years they’d known one another. Will wanted to touch her, but wasn’t sure he should. He wanted to ask her what she was feeling, but Maggie was usually outspoken and if she wanted to tell him, she would. A few minutes after the seals left, they started back down the shore, silence heavy between them. At the cars, they bid one another good morning. Will bent and kissed her cheek like he always did, and then they finally looked at one another, both coloring in embarrassment.
“We have to talk,” Will said.
“We do,” Maggie agreed. “This is. . . hard. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. We’ve spent our whole lives as friends. Do you think we can take it to the next level?” Her eyes searched his. “Maybe we should leave things as they are. I mean, last night, it was just a kiss. We’d been drinking.”
“We weren’t drunk, Maggie. And if that was just a kiss, then why was it ten times better than the best kiss I’ve ever had before that one?”
Maggie’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“Without tongue?”
“Either way, ten times better.” He nearly pulled her to him then, was pretty sure she would have let him, but he stopped himself. “No matter how good it was, we can’t risk our friendship. As it stands, it was a kiss. That’s all. We can still back off safely.”
“Can we?”
“Probably. If we decide not to let it go any further, memory will fade. We should both think about it long and hard before we. . .” He wanted to kiss her too much to even talk about it. Maggie’s lips, slightly parted, looked like they had the night before. He made himself look at the ocean instead.
“You’re right,” she said, “but Will, I feel like Eve after taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. I want more.”
“Kevin would find your calling me ‘forbidden fruit’ hysterical.”
“I know.”
“If I look at you, I’m going to kiss you again.”
“I know. Don’t look at me because I’ll kiss you back. Get in your car and go to work. I’ll do the same. Do some thinking. We’ll talk later.”
With that, they had parted. Just thinking about it now caused gave him reason to wish he’d worn loose, pleated pants to work today.
A rap on the door. Kevin’s voice. “Doctor, Mr. Hardwick is here to see you.”
Will started to stand to open the door then thought better of it and crossed his legs and said, “Come on in.”
57
The day raced by for Maggie, who could barely get a moment to breathe. She put a record number of dogs and cats on mild tranquilizers, and frequently, she thought their owners needed them just as badly. Several told her they had seen or heard strange things—two used the word “ghost” without hesitation—in their homes, and that the animals had corroborated the phenomena, keeping their humans from thinki
ng themselves crazy. Maggie believed them.
Each story made her think of the awful visions lurking in Gabe and Kevin’s home, and how strongly Will had reacted. She had been the only person near enough to him know he’d said something in addition to his oldest brother’s name. The words that followed were strangled, but she was almost sure he’d said I killed you. That was why she had tried so hard to get him to talk once they were alone.
Does he even know he said it? Does he know he said it once before? She doubted he remembered the first time. It was the night of Michael’s death, and Maggie had crossed the street to his family’s house and gone upstairs to see him at his mother’s request. She was worried about him because he had locked himself in as soon as the first tumult had died down, and now refused to speak to anyone or eat any supper.
Once he knew it was her, he undid the little slide bolt Michael had helped him install the summer before. As soon as she was inside, he locked it again. She knew why: He didn’t want to deal with Pete, who was downstairs hovering around his parents like a good son. Maggie didn’t buy his act because when he’d opened the door for her, she saw the gleam in his eye and realized he was probably happy his big competition was dead. Now he would be the number one son.
Will sat down on his bed and she climbed on next to him. She still remembered how he looked, a youthful version of his adult self, tall, with a cuteness that would mature into handsomeness similar to Michael’s, same hair, same half smile. His eyes were red, but he had regained control quickly, as he always did, so his face looked almost normal, not red and swollen from crying. The air in the room, thick and heavy with emotion, hurt her stomach, so she got up and opened a window, hoping the bad vibes would fly away on the breeze. Of course, they wouldn’t, not as long as Will’s emotions churned, but the breeze felt good anyway.
Sitting on the bed, she watched the curtains flutter like ghosts, and waited for him to show her what he needed. Finally, she saw his hand creep toward hers. Not looking at him, she met his hand and took it. They sat like that for long minutes. Finally, she felt a tremble. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw tears falling from his down-turned face, dropping into his lap like rain. That was her cue to move close to him and pull him to her, holding him against her so he could cry.
The Forgotten Page 19
