The Madness of Mercury

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The Madness of Mercury Page 24

by Connie Di Marco


  I raced back to the sheriff’s cruiser and climbed in the driver’s side. He’d been in a hurry—had he left the keys? He had. I’d just borrow it for a bit. I was sure he would understand. Just as I started the engine, I saw Sheriff Leo running back down the drive.

  “Hey!” he shouted.

  I shouted back, “Get in!”

  He looked confused for a moment, but pulled the door open and jumped into the passenger seat. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “The hole in the fence. They must know about it by now.” I revved the engine. It was so powerful, the car leaped ahead. I had to hit the brakes not to fly off the road. “We have to stop them.” I turned right, driving as fast as I dared until we reached the rear of the property. I slowed and stopped the car just before we arrived at where I thought the break in the chain-link fence was. I held my breath and listened. “Hear that?” I turned to the sheriff.

  He nodded. There was more crashing and movement behind the fence. A pale face showed itself in the dark.

  “They’re trying to escape. Hold on.” I hit the gas and drove off the shoulder of the road, ramming the side of the vehicle into the fence, trapping whoever was trying to exit.

  The sheriff pulled his weapon and hit a button on the dash. He aimed a spotlight at the movement in the bushes. Gudrun and the Reverend stood stock still, staring at us through the fence, like deer caught in the headlights.

  “Police. Hands up. Now!” Sheriff Leo shouted. The searchlight was trained on Gudrun’s face and I caught the hateful look she shot in my direction.

  Then I heard the Prophet speak in his mellifluous tones. “Sir, I’m sure there’s some misunderstanding. I can explain everything.”

  “You’ll have lots of time to explain everything very soon,” the sheriff replied. We heard more movement in the bushes behind the duo and two other officers arrived. They cuffed Gudrun and the Reverend and led them back into the compound.

  Sheriff Leo breathed a sigh of relief. He holstered his gun and climbed back into the cruiser. He glared at me.

  “I had a feeling they’d try to run,” I offered by way of an apology.

  “Just drive back around, will you? Jeez,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Don’t ever do that again. You coulda been shot for Chrissakes.”

  I did as ordered and drove back to our original spot to let the sheriff out. I watched as Gudrun, the Reverend, and four men and one woman were locked into the back of the Highway Patrol cruisers. Three ambulances and two vans arrived, and the residents of the Prophet’s Paradise were led to the vehicles. The whole operation took no more than an hour and a half.

  Finally the sheriff returned. “Let’s get your friend over to Cloverville and have her checked out.” He opened the driver’s door. “And I’m driving.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief that it was finally over.

  When we arrived back at the Bide-A-Wee motel, Gladys and Eunice were ensconced on the pink sofa watching a Thin Man movie. Eunice was smiling. She looked up at us. “Back so soon? My, that was quick.”

  “Thanks to Julia, the Reverend and his accomplice didn’t manage to escape.” He patted me on the back. “Good work. But don’t ever steal my car again.” He sat on the sofa next to Eunice. “Now I’m taking you to the ER at Cloverville. It’s not far from here. You need to have someone take a look at you.”

  “I’m fine,” Eunice replied. “Really. I just want to go home.”

  I’d noticed some dark bruises on her arms. I didn’t know if they’d been caused by our escape attempts or administered by the caring staff of the Prophet’s Paradise. “I think the sheriff’s right, Eunice. Let’s get you checked out.”

  “You’re coming with me, dear, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “I’ll follow in my car. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Eunice squeezed my hand and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Gladys turned to Sheriff Leo. “I gave her some warm slippers. Make sure you keep that afghan wrapped around her. She isn’t wearing anything but a thin cotton thing and a sweater. You can return that stuff to me later.” The motel owner followed us out to the patrol car, making sure Eunice was bundled up and strapped in with the seat belt, and then she walked me to my car.

  “You sure you can drive that thing all right?”

  “I think so. It’s only the back window. It’s got to get me back to San Francisco.” I glanced over at the patrol car. The interior light was on, and the sheriff was leaning close to Eunice as if to hear what she had to say. I saw him smile and nod in agreement. The interior light went off and the flashing lights on the roof of the patrol car lit up.

  I thanked Gladys profusely and hugged her. She had saved us.

  “That’s quite all right, dear. I’m happy to know I’m a better shot than I realized. You’re welcome back any time. We haven’t had this much excitement here since one of the junior high kids stole a tractor and drove it into an open septic tank.”

  “Ah,” was my response. My mind boggled at the vision. I hopped in the Geo, revved the engine, and turned the dashboard air on full blast. The exhaust would be sucked back into the car through the hole from the shotgun blast and I didn’t want to collapse from carbon monoxide poisoning. I said a prayer for the state of my tires and, waving one last time to Gladys, followed the sheriff’s car out of the courtyard of the Bide-a-Wee and onto the highway.

  We exited at Cloverville, lights flashing all the way. I glanced at my car clock, shocked to realize it was only midnight. It felt more like the wee hours. I had been running on adrenaline and exhaustion was taking over.

  The sheriff pulled straight into the emergency parking area and ran inside, returning with a wheel chair. He lifted Eunice from the car and wheeled her through the automatic doors. Inside, he showed his badge and explained our situation to the admitting clerk. While the clerk was doing her best to take information from Eunice, who didn’t know if she had an insurance policy or not, I stepped outside to call Dorothy on the sheriff’s cell phone. Mine, of course, was in little pieces in the dirt at the compound. I felt bereft without it. I wanted to let Dorothy know Eunice was safe; perhaps I should have tried to call from the Bide-a-Wee, but so much had happened so fast. I could fill her in on the gory details later.

  The phone rang twenty times—I counted. There was no answer, and the machine didn’t pick up. Surely Dorothy would hear the phone even if she’d gone to bed; that is, unless a storm in the city had knocked out power or the telephone lines.

  I was shivering and hungry. I walked back to my car and put on my down jacket. I found the lunch Dorothy had packed still sitting in its thermal pack. Was that only yesterday? The food was over a day old but had been naturally refrigerated. I unwrapped the turkey sandwich and took a huge bite, not caring if I splattered mayo over my clothes. I was filthy and covered with dirt anyway. The sandwich wasn’t spoiled, but it was definitely soggy. I tossed it back in the container and found the plastic bag of cookies. I wolfed them down. They were sugary, crunchy, and delicious.

  Inside the ER, a nurse was wheeling Eunice into an examining area. I followed and helped her move onto the gurney. While the nurse took her pulse and blood pressure, I heard the sheriff speaking quietly to someone outside. A moment later the doctor, who looked as if he’d just woken from a sound sleep, stepped into the room and introduced himself to Eunice. I was sure the sheriff had filled him in on her recent escape, so I told her I’d be right outside and joined Sheriff Leo, sitting next to him on a hard plastic chair connected to a row of other hard plastic chairs.

  “Did you reach your friend?”

  I shook my head. “No. There was no answer. I’m a little worried.” I passed the phone back to the sheriff. “Thanks for letting me use this.”

  “I’ve got an extra in the patrol car. I’ll give you one.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get it back to you.” I shook my head. “I just don’t get it. What drives people to abdicate authority over their life? What drives a man to cre
ate such misery in the world?”

  The sheriff sighed. “Given my line of work, I’ve thought about that a lot myself. Power, I guess. Control. Sometimes it’s a combination of energies. A few kids get together and do something horrible. You see it on the news all the time. Left to themselves maybe they’d never dream of doing anything but together they feed each other, feed off each other. Maybe it’s as simple as that. If they had never met, never come together, would those crimes have happened? I don’t think so somehow. I think something far more terrible comes to life when some people get together. Is that fate? Is there such a thing? I don’t know.”

  I listened to him carefully. “Astrologers grapple with those larger issues too. How much is carved in stone? What does the birth chart describe and how much can the individual evolve? What energies are created when two or more people come together?”

  Sheriff Leo looked at my quizzically. “You believe in all that stuff?”

  I nodded and smiled ruefully. “We don’t have any easy answers either.”

  We both looked up as the doctor approached from the examining room. He took a seat next to the sheriff but addressed both of us. “She seems fine, but I’d like to admit her for observation, just for a day or two. There’s some bad bruising and she’s extremely dehydrated. I want to make sure there’s no organ damage. I don’t think there is, but I’d like to be positive before I release her. Could either of you be responsible for her when she’s released, and take care of getting her home?”

  The thought of hanging around yet another small town for a few days didn’t appeal to me in the least. It must have shown on my face. The sheriff spoke first. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll drive over tomorrow and check on her. Just give me a call when she’s ready to go home. I’ll take her there myself. Oh, and most of all, she’s not to be released to anyone but me.”

  “Got it,” the doctor replied. “I’ll leave instructions.”

  We re-entered the examining room just as a nurse was attaching a plastic bracelet to Eunice’s very thin wrist.

  “Julia, I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home.”

  “I know. But believe me, I’d feel better if you did stay, just to make sure you’re stronger.”

  I didn’t want to tell Eunice what my fears were. The sheriff had given me a clue, and suddenly everything was falling into place like the pieces of a puzzle. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and I hoped I was wrong. I had to get back to the city. I still didn’t know how, but I thought I knew why.

  “Sheriff Leo will come over tomorrow to check on you. You’re in very good hands, and he’s going to take you home as soon as they let you go. Right now, I’ve got to get back to the city. I’ve been trying to reach Dorothy, but there’s no answer at the house.”

  “Oh,” Eunice groaned. “I’m so embarrassed. They’ll think I’m such a fool.”

  “No, they won’t. They’ll be relieved you’re safe. I’m driving back now and I promise you’ll be planting lavender for your bees very soon.”

  Eunice squeezed my hand in response as the nurse wheeled the gurney out of the examining room.

  The sheriff was waiting for me in the parking lot. “Maybe you should stick around. They’ll want to question you, and you’ll have to give evidence at some point. Believe me, Julia, I’m very relieved you both made it out of there. But if that’s what’s going on in my town, I’ll be happy to see the whole lot of them locked up.”

  “I’m worried about what’s happening in the city. I’d feel better if I went back right now, but I’ll give you my address and home phone.”

  Sheriff Leo reached into the front seat of his patrol car. “Just write it all down. I’m heading back to the station now but I’ll keep in touch.” He opened his trunk. “Hang on, take this phone. I don’t need it back.”

  “Thanks.” I slipped it into my pocket. “I’ll pick up a new phone tomorrow and let you know that number and I can drive back up if they need to talk to me.” I followed the sheriff back to the 101 and flicked my lights as I turned down the ramp to head south. He flashed his lights in response. I did my best to quell the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Once on the freeway, I was able to keep up a good pace. The surrounding countryside was pitch black, but at least it wasn’t raining. I would have loved some coffee to stay awake, but I didn’t want to take the time to pull off the freeway at this time of night. There might not be anything to find out there at this hour anyway.

  I reached Santa Rosa after an hour and the traffic became heavier. It would be another twenty minutes to Petaluma, Chicken Capital of the World. I put pedal to the metal and kept going, fighting off exhaustion and achiness. When the Novato exits flashed by, I had only another thirty miles to reach the city. As I came over the long hill and started down toward the Golden Gate Bridge, my eyes started playing tricks on me. I struggled to focus, but the spires of the bridge shattered and moved, then returned to their original place. Was I so tired my eyesight was affected? I shook my head and rolled down the window, letting the fog and the wind roll through the car. I hoped I wasn’t breathing exhaust fumes from the hole in the rear windshield.

  I struggled to maintain focus and stay within the narrow lanes crossing the Bridge. Back on land, I followed the road to the Marina and took Lombard to Van Ness. A second wave hit me as I entered the Broadway tunnel. The walls of the tunnel were melting. I felt panic rise up in my chest. Had an earthquake hit? Were the walls undulating from earth movement? I’ve never touched LSD, but I’d heard accounts from many people. Was I hallucinating? Something was happening to me. My head wouldn’t stay still. My neck was spasming and my head was jerking involuntarily. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, trying to slow my breath and not panic.

  Crossing Columbus, the noise and street lights jarred me. Everything was out of phase, but there was no sign of an earthquake. I drove slowly up Filbert, my vision disjointed. Everything that should have been solid was shattering like glass in front of me. The concrete of the road was undulating. I reached the spot where I hoped the Gamble house stood and pulled over, turning off the engine, and saying a prayer of thanks I had managed this far. I was hearing voices, people chattering to me, but I knew no one was near.

  I tried to climb out of the car. My legs were not cooperating. I managed to stand and did my best to cross the street. I reached the door that I knew was Dorothy’s, but somehow it looked different—larger and more forbidding. The door was ajar, not shut and not locked. I pushed it open. The front hallway was dark. I stumbled. I couldn’t get my legs to move properly.

  I took a deep breath and pushed through the door into the kitchen. The lights were on but the room was empty. I retraced my steps and, clinging to the banister, forced myself up the stairs. I couldn’t seem to call out Dorothy’s name. Nothing was working right.

  It felt like hours before I reached the top of the stairs and stumbled down the hallway to Evandra’s room. I pushed open the door and found her tied to the bed. She was talking to herself, not making any sense. I clung to the bedpost and managed to survey the room. There was no one else there. I spoke to her but she didn’t respond.

  I sobbed. Something was terribly wrong. I had to get help. I had to find Dorothy. Trying not to lose my balance, I clung to the banister and very slowly descended the stairway. I reached the kitchen and opened the door to the back garden. I couldn’t see very well. Inanimate objects weren’t holding still. I couldn’t tell where I was. Was I close to the cliff? My legs seemed to give out. I stumbled and fell forward on the grass. The earth was spinning. I reached out my hand and felt the stones in the wall at the edge of the cliff. I managed to get up on all fours and headed in a direction that I hoped was away from the cliff. I crawled across the lawn toward the conservatory entrance at the side of the house. Grasping the edge of the doorjamb, I struggled to a standing position and pushed through the plastic covering over the doorway.

  The light was dim, but I could clearly see Reggie. He was splayed out on his stomach,
inching slowly across the floor. I watched as he clawed at the edges of the tiles as if trying to move through the floor. A dark shape loomed up and came toward me.

  I stared, transfixed, willing my brain to work. It was Dorothy. Yes, Dorothy. My heart sank. Fear coursed through my veins. I turned away and forced my legs to move. I was tangled in the heavy plastic sheets and something was holding my head in place. Dorothy held my hair, pulling me back, dragging me into the conservatory.

  “I’m sorry about this, Julia. You shouldn’t have come back.” She turned me around by the shoulders. I tried to focus on her face but it wasn’t staying still. She shoved me to the ground, my fall stopped by a potting table. The room was splintering and moving. My heart was racing and now I was sure my legs were paralyzed. I watched helplessly as Dorothy calmly poured gasoline on a bundle of rags in the corner. Her movements were as efficient as if she were whipping up a casserole in the kitchen. Gasoline fumes filled the room.

  I tried to form words. “Wh … ?”

  “Such careless workers, leaving oily rags around.”

  My heart was racing faster. “Where’s … ?”

  She looked up from her task. “Richard? Not here tonight.” She stopped her activity for a moment. “He was going to leave me again, Julia. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially you, but I need the inheritance. I can’t let Reggie take it all away. It’s the only way I can keep Richard. You’re young. You could never understand.”

  I shook my head negatively. “Not … marriage … ”

  “Of course it’s a marriage. We are married, and he’ll never leave me again.”

  I heard scratching and turned my head. Reggie had reached the wall and was now standing. His arms were moving as if he were attempting to swim through the molecules of the hard surface.

 

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