“You’ve drunk both bottles,” she told him shaking her head.
“I’m not dr... dr... drunk!” He said indignantly and picked up a handful of bubbles to blow them at her. “G... g... give it back and I’ll g... g... get drunk enough for b... b... both of us.”
“No.” She stood up to get a towel from the cabinet for him. “You’ve been in here too long. The air is stuffy and your epidermis is excessively wrinkled. You're dehydrating.”
She handed the towel to him and he reached for it. Instead of taking the towel, he took her wrist and pulled her into the tub. She shrieked and tried to catch herself, but everything was slippery with water and soap. She went headlong into the deep cast iron tub splashing water over the sides, flooding the floor and sending a cloud of bubbles into the air. Her face was pressed against his chest and she could find no purchase for her hands to keep from sliding down into the tub completely submerging in the water. He pulled her up and planted a very wet kiss on her lips. She shook her hair and scooted backwards to sit facing him while he laughed at her expression of shock and horror.
“What are you doing?!” She shouted at him. “Look at me! I’m all wet in my clothes.”
“Take them off,” he shrugged. “You d... d... don’t usu... usual... supposed to wear cl... cl... clothes in the t... t... t... bath. It’s n... n... not healthy.”
Angelica found her footing and stood up carefully before stepping over the side into the puddled water on the floor.
“B... be careful, Ang... Angel,” he told her. “It’s slipper... flipper... slippy. It’s wet.”
Perry vaguely understood why Chris Parker had once been so quiet. It was an extremely perplexing problem and completely uncontrollable especially with the addition of alcohol. At least he didn't stutter in his thoughts. Hmmm, interesting.
A reverberating knock sounded on the door. Angelica spun around to look at the door and knocked one of the wine bottles to the floor where it shattered on contact sending shards of glass sliding in the water around Angelica’s bare feet.
“Angelica!” Falco called through the door. “Are you all right in there?”
“Don’t move!” Perry shouted and tried to push himself up and in the process sent the goblet to join the bottle. “D... d... damn!”
Falco yanked the door open and glared at them. Angelica stood frozen in the midst of the bubbles and glass on the floor. She was dripping wet, her clothes clinging to her body and her hair framing her beautiful face in tiny wet curls. Perry thought she looked like a water nymph paralyzed by the arrow of an evil fairy.
“What in blue blazes are you doing, Peregrin?!” Falco shouted at him looking about the strange arrangement. “Trying to kill her?”
“G... g... get out!” Perry reached to grab another towel. “St... st... stay put!”
Angelica looked at Falco and then at Perry.
“Come out of there, Angelica!” The Primus told her and reached for her hand.
“Ang... Angeli... dammit!” Perry stepped out into the glass and grimaced as he felt it crunch under his bare foot. Falco held her hand as she picked her way across the floor to step out into the carpeted hallway. She looked back at him, confused. It was obvious, she did not know what she should do.
Perry slammed the door in their faces and dropped the towel over the glass to cover it and then began to clean up the mess very, very carefully.
When he reached the bedroom, Angelica was in the closet changing her clothes. He sat on the bed wrapped in a towel and pulled pieces of glass from his mangled feet and toes. Falco leaned against the dresser watching him.
“Well?” Falco said when Perry did not acknowledge his presence.
“Well what?” Perry managed to say without stuttering.
“I’m leaving tomorrow and I’m taking her with me before you inadvertently destroy both yourself and her,” Falco told him.
Perry got up to look for socks. Miraculously, he found a pair of white ones and sat down to put them on his bleeding feet.
“Why n... n... not go now?” He asked looking up at the Primus with both eyebrows raised. The effect of the wine was making him feel very self-satisfied in spite of the pain in his feet. “I’ll help you p... p... pack. But g... g... get this str... str... straight! You’re not t... t... taking her anywhere.”
“Really!” Falco laughed. “I believe she may have something to say about that.”
“What?” Perry looked at him frowning. “You mean you’re g... g... going to al.. al.. let her say something? Why n... n... not j... j... just pull her th... th... thoughts from her m... m... head?” Perry closed his eyes tightly and concentrated on his speech. He had never tried to consciously alter anything within his own mind. He felt perspiration break out on his forehead and then blue sparks swarmed on the back of his eyelids. He sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled.
“I believe you are setting some sort of precedent here, Peregrin,” Falco shook his head. “I believe you will be the first of our kind to need psychiatric counseling. Angelica is going with me and that’s final, Peregrin!”
“You will address me by my proper title henceforth.”
Perry looked at him with renewed disgust as Angelica emerged from the closet quietly to stand with her back to the door watching them apprehensively. The effects of the wine were gone. The stutter was gone. His patience was gone. He would not tolerate any more of the Primus’ tricks and games. If the Primus was conspiring with his father to torment him, it would no longer work. “And you will keep your meddlesome opinions to yourself. I am not at your beck and call and I do not answer to you or my father! If you wish to remain intact in that form, I suggest you take yourself on to New Orleans to your convention and leave us alone.”
“What about your little secret?” Falco smiled at him and glanced at Angelica in a meaningful way.
“It matters very little to me,” Perry told him. “We have had our thirty minutes plus and there is nothing you can do about it. She belongs to me now.”
Angelica tried to ease past Falco to the door, apparently wanting to escape before the situation grew critical. She still had not had time to conduct her research and she needed to go down to the Gift Shop and get more wine and the rest of the dinner she had promised Peregrin. She didn’t understand what this exchange was about and didn’t want to know. That Perry would dare to talk to the Primus in such a manner unnerved her.
“What do you think you have accomplished?” Falco moved over to block her exit. “No, no, don’t leave, Angelica. I want you to hear this. Tell us, Primus. What are you doing here? What is the purpose of all this?”
Perry went to the closet and found a pair of dirty jeans on the floor. He pulled them on and turned to face them. “I will tell you nothing,” he said defiantly. “You have no right to ask me anything, Primus. And you can tell my father that he is out of line sending you here.”
“Your father?” Falco frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Tell us, Angelica, what do you think the Primus is doing here?”
“I’m not really sure, Primus,” her eyes grew wide. “As you very well know, I am in no position to debate this subject with either of you. As for me going or staying, I do not believe that either of you can force me to leave or stay. I will respect your superiority, but I am not bound by either of you to obey your commands to such an extent. I have a commission here granted by my father and you both know who he is. His authority outweighs both of you. I will call on him, if necessary, but I will not argue with you or Pere... either of you. At the moment it would please me immensely to go into the kitchen and leave you two to work out your differences. It is of no concern to me.”
“Very well put,” Perry told her and smiled at the Primus.
Angelica brushed past Falco and left them alone, but Peregrin followed her and actually made a face at the Primus as he walk by him limping on his cut feet.
He followed her to the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools to look at the red splotches on h
is socks mournfully.
“I would like to apologize for the Primus’ treatment of you,” he said. “I don’t know how many of us you have known, but believe me, we are not all alike.”
Falco also came to the kitchen to witness the conversation.
“I do not wish to involve you in these petty disagreements. You are right, they don’t concern you at all. If he wishes to stay, so be it. Eventually, he will grow tired and fade away into the oblivion from whence he came. He is afraid to stay here with us and he has no power to influence my actions one way or another. If we decide to be married, then we’ll be married. Please be careful with that knife, Angelica. Always cut away from your body," he said and took the knife from her to demonstrate a few strokes in exaggerated fashion before handing it back to her and continuing. "If he wants to go crying to my father that he was unable to intimidate me, so be it. If he wants to hang himself from the stairs, so be it. I will help him if he likes. If he believes that I am afraid to marry you, I don’t care. I don’t want to be a bachelor forever. I just want to make sure that everything is right.”
Angelica put down the knife she was using to chop the carrots and looked at Peregrin frowning. He was doing it again. Rambling. What was he talking about? Marrying her? Was that his goal? And what did Falco Atrox have to do with it? And why would Peregrin’s father have sent Falco to see them? And why had Perry pretended to be her inferior? None of it made sense to her, but many things fell into place with the realization that Perry had only been masquerading as her assistant.
“We can finish up your study here and depart for friendlier climes,” Perry told her.
“Friendlier climes?” She frowned. “Do you mean China?”
“Maybe he means the south seas.” Falco raised his eyebrows.
Perry ignored him. “China is much more... civilized. Unless you would prefer to live somewhere else?”
“Are we to set up housekeeping there?” She asked and glanced at Falco.
“I already have a house there,” he nodded. “I have a gardener. We can hire a maid and a cook and you can study the civilization. It is very... refreshing.”
“Will we continue our experiments?” She asked. “Or is that a proposal?”
“It depends.” He looked at her with a look of wonder. Was she really willing to go with him? To Beijing? They could leave tonight! “Please be careful with those plates. If you drop them, we’ll have another mess. You could end up with injuries. You should put on your shoes and I believe you have left some soap in your hair. It can damage the shine.” He touched the strand of hair in question.
“If I decide to stay here,” she reached across the stove to turn on the burner “does that...”
“You shouldn’t reach across the burners, Angelica,” he admonished her. “You could burn yourself.”
“Does that mean you would go back to China without me?” She asked. This was her chance to try to learn exactly what was going on between them without enduring their constant bickering it seemed. Falco merely stood with his arms crossed in front of him, listening to the exchange. She knew he was as curious about Peregrin’s plans as she was.
“No!” He told her. “I mean, I can wait for you. There is no hurry.”
Angelica set the kettle on the burner and placed cheese on one of the plates he had been so concerned about.
“I don’t want you to leave with him,” Perry told her. “I don’t want to go to Beijing alone. It wouldn’t be right. I don’t want you to marry me just because it seems to be the thing to do. If you don’t want to marry me, it will be all right, but I really will marry you if that’s what you want. Wait, don’t move!”
Angelica froze on her way to the refrigerator.
Perry got up to swat a mosquito that buzzed about her left ear and kissed her neck. He took the cheese plate from her and put it in the refrigerator.
“I hope you are still planning our dinner,” he told her.
“Yes, I am,” she said.
“When you go down for the wine and candles, please be careful on the stairs and put on some shoes. I think some UPC398754116723 would go well with that cheese. I have to go now, but I’ll be back.”
He left both of them standing in the kitchen and went back to the bedroom. Falco leaned around to watch him as he disappeared into the room at the end of the hall. Presently he came out with a clean shirt and shoes. Perry cut through the living room and took his car keys from the rack by the door. When the door slammed, Falco turned to look at her.
“What was that all about, Angelica?” He asked.
“Can’t you see what has happened to him, Primus?” Angelica rummaged about the cabinets looking for the crackers.
“It would seem that he has opened some of his precious boxes.” Falco went to sit on the stool vacated by Peregrin.
“It was an accident. He fell and some of them were opened on impact,” she explained.
“I had often wondered if we were susceptible.” Falco narrowed his eyes. “But he was stuttering before. What happened?”
“That would have been Chris Parker’s problem. Probably put in one of the boxes by either Cheryl Martin or his sister, Joanne,” Angelica mused as she took two wine goblets from the rack over the bar and wiped them with a clean cloth and held them up to the light to check for spots. She wanted everything to be perfect for their dinner ‘date’. She wished the Primus would go away so she could log on to the internet and study some of the links she had found concerning romance and mood. There were millions of references and so little time left to study. “Stuttering is a physical manifestation of a psychological disorder. It also happened to be the most apparent of the discarded items he found in the boxes. It was just a simple matter of will. He identified the problem and overcame it. These other manifestations are much more subtle and I’m not sure he is even aware of them... yet.”
“What about this thirty minute interval?” He asked point blank. “Has he been able to convince you of its relevance? Has it made a difference?”
“I am not sure,” she told him earnestly. “I need more data.”
Falco’s face turned dark. “You need more data?”
“Yes,” she told him innocently. “I would like to do some comparative studies.”
“Comparative studies!?” He exclaimed with disbelief. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“I haven’t decided,” she said simply and left him to go down the stairs to the Gift Shop to get the wine and candles without putting on her shoes.
Chapter Twenty-Nine:.
Mike was in his workshop looking as dusty as his wood saw when Tyler found him.
“Hey, Mike.” Tyler stood in the doorway looking at the stacks of new wood. “What’d you do, cut down a forest?”
“Naw, I just got back from Jack’s Builder Center in Carrollton,” Mike told him and glanced out the window toward the house. He lowered his voice “I used the... Card.”
Mike pulled a credit card and a business card from his tee shirt pocket. “And speakin’ of cards. Look at this one.” He handed it to Tyler.
Tyler read the card and handed it back. He looked at Mike expectantly.
“What does this guy want? Who do you know in San Antonio?” Tyler asked him and upended a milk crate to sit on it.
“Nobody,” Mike grinned. “But he’s ordered a hundred clocks and he’s givin’ me twenty-five hundred dollars for ’em. I figger it’ll a take me a week and a half to make that many if I work full time on ’em. Imagine that Tyler! Twenty-five hundred for a week’s work that ain’t even work. It’s a hobby.”
“Yeah, that’s great,” Tyler tried to muster some enthusiasm for Mike’s good fortune, but found it difficult. “Guess you might need to build a bigger workshop, huh?”
“Maybe so, later on,” Mike nodded. He stopped drawing on the board in front of him and looked at Tyler frowning. “What’s wrong? What’s goin’ on? What’re you up to?” Mike fired several questions at him in succession. He was onto him.
> “I thought we’d go over to the hospital to see Louis,” Tyler told him and then frowned. “I guess I don’t want to take you away from your work though.”
“No, it’s OK,” Mike said and stretched his arms over his head before getting up to dust off. “We need to go see him. Just let me get cleaned up.”
Forty-five minutes later Tyler was aggravated to death with the truck and horse trailer that was poking along in front of them at a breathtaking thirty-five miles per hour. But the truck and trailer were not the only things bothering him. Mike was adding to his worries.
“What do you mean ‘figure it out’?” Tyler asked Mike between cursing the truck and darting into the lane to check for on-coming cars.
“Well, you see,” Mike took a drag off his cigarette and blew the smoke slowly toward the windshield. “Ever’thing happens for a reason. Ever’thing has its own season. They got to be after somethin’. Nobody does nothin’ for free. I think, after what you’ve told me, that there’s somethin’ to these little boxes. You know like maybe they’re collectin’ pieces of people’s souls or somethin’ in ’em. Like when them Voodoo queens take a piece of your hair or your fingernails?”
Tyler shivered. His common sense told him that what Mike was saying was nonsense. But there was some ring of truth to what he was saying. He had seen Sam Morris before and after his aunt Mary had scribbled something on the paper and put it in the box. His color had returned to normal. The visible effects of his intense pain and the sweating had ceased almost immediately and he had calmed down completely before Tyler and his aunt had left. Of course, it was probably all psychosomatic. He didn’t dare tell Mike about the troubling suspicions he had suffered concerning Paula Anne’s pregnancy. And then, hadn’t Perry Aliger been with Louis when he’d suffered a heart attack? And what about when he, Tyler, had almost died? Hadn’t Perry Aliger been right there? And look at Reggie Greene! Again, Perry Aliger. And what about the story Joanne Parker had told him about Cheryl’s ESP experience that had told her to go home when her mother had also suffered a heart attack? Cheryl had been talking to Perry Aliger when it happened! And then there was his aunt Mary’s dramatic improvements since she had met him and he had given her that tea to drink. And then there was Louis’ infatuation with Angelica Aliger and Chris Parker’s sudden acquisition of self-confidence and hadn’t Chris’ stuttering disappeared after he had gone off with them that night! Yeah. Things were looking very strange and very confusing, but the facts pointed to something Tyler couldn’t quite put his finger on. He was no fool and he was certainly no idiot. His IQ was considerably higher than most of his associates in Magnolia Springs. He just didn’t use it. He shook his head. Perhaps he was becoming as flaky as Mike. He loved Mike. Mike had been his friend as far back as he could remember, but Mike was so damned weird sometimes. Tyler felt the beginnings of a massive headache coming on.
The Pandora Effect Page 50
