He nodded, too old to be surprised by the woman's ability to read his mind.
But he was surprised by what she told him.
She told him of virgins and dragons and Dhols, of the rarity of months with two full moons, and of an old man who, if he got his way, would bring this green spinning world to an end. She contradicted everything he'd ever known, and swore to things that couldn't be. He didn't believe a word she said -and yet he trembled.
She showed him the Pictures, and told him where they came from, and his horror grew; for he recognized the figures from the Dynnod, and wondered if they might somehow be real. He sensed things pressing in on him, and knew his life would never be the same.
And when she was done she told him, 'Remember, come to me when your visitors arrive. Come to me in secret that night. And bring the virgin with you.' She leaned toward him, eyes glittering; talonlike fingers gripped his arm. 'That's the most important thing, son. You mustn't forget to bring her. The Lord and I will see to the rest.'
Suddenly she cocked her head and looked toward the rain-smeared window. When she turned back to him, her expression had changed.
'Go now,' she said. Her voice held a new urgency. 'Go and speed home, if you want to prevent a drowning.'
She hurried him out the door, not even saying goodbye.
… And I'd have climbed right in there with her, if Sarr hadn't come driving up the road just then, truck wheels splashing through the puddles. I dashed from the room like a thief, cursing my own stupidity; if he'd found us together I swear he's the kind who'd have killed us both. I fled to the living room amp; snatched up the first thing I came across, that book of inspirational poems I'd been reading from, so that by the time he'd put the truck away in the barn amp; came running through the rain back to the house, I was sitting in the rocking chair with his book on my lap, open to the dryest-looking Milton I could find. I was still nervous as he came in – 1 could feel my heart pounding – but I don't think his mind was on me.
'Where's Deborah?' he said, looking very troubled.
'I'm not sure,' I said vaguely. 'She may be in the bathroom.'
He stood there for a minute, not saying anything, and eventually settled himself on the stool. Only then did he seem to notice me. He cleared his throat a couple of times, as if there were something he was dying to ask but afraid to. Finally he said, 'Jeremy, I don't want to seem like prying, amp; you don't have to answer this, but-' And I thought, Oh, Jesus, I'm in for it now, he suspects! But then, of all things, he asked his question: was Carol still a virgin?
That really caught me by surprise. 'I don't know,' I think I said. 'I doubt it. She's obviously not very experienced – she's a good Catholic amp; all – but she's an attractive girl, amp; I'd assume that somewhere along the line she's had a guy or two.' He looked skeptical. 'If you're asking whether I've ever slept with her,' I added, 'the answer's no, I haven't.'
I would have thought that was what he'd want to hear; I assumed he was asking because, with Carol coming for another visit the day after tomorrow amp; probably staying again under his roof, he wanted to be certain she was pure. But instead of looking cheerful, he looked even more troubled. I asked him what the matter was, but he said he'd explain it all this weekend.
Sausage amp; rice for dinner tonight, both courtesy of the Go-op. String beans from a can amp; powdered milk for our coffee: what's the world coming to? Deborah as cool as can be – didn't look at me once, just concentrated on dishing out the food and smiling at Sarr- but he wasn't having any of it. He just kept staring at her, saying nothing. I got very uncomfortable by the end, certain he suspected. Hope he's not giving Deborah hell tonight.
Back here after dinner, escaping as fast as I could. Should be cleaning this place up before Carol amp; Rosie get here, but with this drizzle amp; the sudden, lonely wind, I somehow have little energy for anything but reading; even keeping up this journal seems a chore. Tomorrow I've got to clip that ivy; it's beginning to cover the windows again, amp; the mildew's been climbing steadily up the walls. It's like I'm sinking into a pool of dark-green water.
Odd that I'm so tired, esp. considering that between getting up late amp; my afternoon nap, I must have slept half the day. Alas, old amp; worn out at thirty!
At least tonight it's quiet in the woods.
He is back in his apartment, the shades drawn and his umbrella drying in the tub, when it comes to him that the man is still alive. Something has interfered.
No, not something. Someone.
And suddenly he knows who it is.
Water hemlock, amanita, hellebore…
As she sat in her kitchen, Mrs Poroth contemplated the enormity of what she was going to do: the killing of the red-haired girl.
It would be easily accomplished; she had more than enough materials here at hand.
Monkshood, lambkill, death camas…
And she saw no other way. The necessity was clear. The girl must not be allowed to play her destined role.
Banewort, mayapple, fly agaric…
But oh! it was a wicked thing she was considering, to raise her hand against so innocent a child! A sudden terror seized her, as if from outside herself, like a thin chilly finger of breeze sent to search for her through the open window. Someone far away was thinking about her, had sought her… and had found her.
No, it was from within herself that the fear had come; she must not yield to despair. No doubt what she'd felt had only been the dread of her own imminent sin. She had to guard against such selfish thoughts; a world hung in the balance. She said a prayer to the cruel Lord and continued with her preparations.
Dogbane, greyana, deadly nightshade…
Sarr turned the lamp down in the kitchen and climbed the stairs to bed. Deborah was gazing out the window as he came into the room, the moon hanging just beyond her head. He heard wind stir the apple tree beside the house, a wind that rose and died and rose again, blowing stronger, tossing the tops of the distant pines. Seating himself on the edge of the bed, he began removing his shoes. 'We'll have to get a new lock for that bathroom door,' he said. 'The one there now doesn't even close any more.'
'You can pick one up in town.'
'Right. And I'd better do it soon, too. Otherwise you know what's going to happen?' He watched her closely. 'One day Jeremy's going to come walking in and catch you in your bath.'
She turned and stood up from the bed. 'We can't have that, can we?'
'No,' he said slowly. 'We can't.' He watched her as she walked to the closet in the corner. Opening the door, she stepped out of his sight. He heard the rustle of cloth, and moments later she reappeared, dressed in her nightgown. Seating herself before a small oval mirror, she began unfastening her hair.
'Time was,' he said, 'when you got undressed in front of me.' Standing and throwing off his shirt, he approached her. Tentatively he reached out and touched her shoulder. 'Time was when things were better between us.'
He thought he saw her stiffen, and something ached inside him -but then she reached up and pressed his hand, and he felt a surge of relief.
'I know, honey,' she said. She was still slightly hoarse. 'It's just that I haven't been well. Give me a few more days… '
'Of course,' he said. He bent and, pushing aside the length of hair, kissed the back of her neck. 'I'm sorry, I've been on edge lately myself.'
He walked back to the bed and continued undressing, while she reached for her brush and began to comb her hair. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he took his own nightgown from the hook in the closet. This was the same woman, he was sure of it. The graceful way she brushed her hair, the softness of her skin – this was the woman he had always loved. For once his mother was wrong. She'd never liked Deborah; she'd never even made an attempt to get to know her. How could she expect, then, to recognize a change in her character? Perhaps she even hoped to turn him against Deborah – to harden his heart – to blight his marriage…
'Tonight,' he said, 'maybe we can pray together again. Your voice sounds like it's coming back.'
