chase them, they get all mixed up with your own thoughts, and that's a good way to go crazy.'
'Remember what I said about 'crazy.''
'My power's going away already. I can feel it fading, sort of like a car radio going to static.'
'It usually lasts a day or two for me. I've had four of Kracowksi's treatments. I don't know what he's up to, but I can feel the tingling.'
Freeman rubbed his scalp at the memory of the seizure. 'It's not too bad, though. Not like my Dad's experiments. But I'm not going to talk about him.'
'Yeah, right. They say it only hurts for a little while. I've heard that all my life, and it hasn't stopped hurting yet.'
'You ever heard of the Trust?'
'The Trust? No.'
'Good.'
'What's the Trust?'
'Never mind.'
'I can't never mind. I have to always mind.'
'Forget it.'
'Listen, I know exactly what you're thinking,'' Vicky said. 'I'm Jane Fonda and you're Robert De Niro in Stanley amp; Iris, and you expect me to take you on and teach you and open up a whole new world. Rescue you from yourself.'
'No. I wasn't thinking that at all. That sounds like a dumb movie.'
'I've seen worse, but not lately.'
Freeman flipped the penny again, caught it, and held up his closed fist.
'Heads,' Vicky said.
Freeman glanced at the coin, shielding it from her. Heads again. 'No, tails,' he said putting the penny in his pocket.
The sun was sinking now, just touching the ridges in the west. Freeman looked across the lake, expecting one of the house parents to wave them inside. From here, they wouldn't be able to hear the bell that signaled dinner.
He saw somebody under the trees and thought at first it was Randy, the muscle jock. He tried for a quick triptrap but the person was too far away, and the power really was on the blink. Then the figure came out into the muted light of sundown. It was the old man in the robe.
'You see him, too,' Vicky said.
'The geezer in gray. I've seen him twice.'
'What's he doing down there?
'Maybe he decided it was time for a bath.'
Vicky stifled a laugh. 'That's mean, Freeman. He might be the nicest person here, for all you know.'
'I thought he worked at the home, like a janitor or something. Figured he must have been here so long they didn't give him a hard time about the way he dressed. Saved on uniform expenses.'
The man moved closer to the water's edge, then paused and seemed to sniff the air. He looked toward Wendover on the rise of lawn above the lake, then at Vicky and Freeman. Freeman couldn't tell whether the man was smiling or grimacing as he approached the water, back stooped with the effort of descending the bank.
'The stupid old coot's going for a swim,' Freeman said. He and Vicky stood so they could see better. 'He'll freeze to death.'
The old man put a foot into the water. Then he took another step. He must have been standing on a rock, because he put another foot forward without sinking.
Four more of his shuffling steps, and still he kept on. He wasn't swimming, he wasn't bathing, he wasn't sinking.
The old man was walking on water.
SIXTEEN
The kids were all accounted for, even Deke and his buddies. Starlene knew they liked to sneak off and smoke cigarettes in the laurels, but she didn't think cracking down on them would do any good, at least until she established rapport. She needed to earn their trust to be a good therapist. And at least it wasn't marijuana they were smoking. Probably.
Down by the lake, Vicky and Freeman were talking. That was a good sign for both of them, because Freeman had acted like a sassy loner and Vicky had been aloof ever since Starlene had taken the job at Wendover. The poor girl was a classic anorexic-bulimic, and maybe having a friend would help her self-esteem, which in turn might boost her appetite. She sighed. Sounded like a 'Dr. Phil Get Real' platitude.
Starlene looked at her watch. Dinner was fifteen minutes away. House parents rotated shifts on a weekly basis, and her week off was coming up. After eating, she would make the long drive down to Laurel Valley, where her cat awaited in her cold mobile home. A good book and a prayer would get her to midnight, when sleep would probably come.
A restless sleep, as they all were these days. First it was Randy who had intruded on her dreams, with his big arms and strong smile and his irritating overprotective-ness. Guys these days thought just because you kissed them meant you were obligated to roll back the sheets and let them wallow like hogs in the slop of your skin. Randy didn't understand the meaning of patience, especially that business about waiting for marriage. Chastity didn't seem to be a treasured virtue outside her Baptist church,vand virginity was more a burden than a prized possession these days.
And Randy was so secretive, with his 'Don't ask questions' attitude. She needed an ally on the inside. This job was tough enough without having to wing it alone. How could she have a lasting relationship with someone who believed in keeping things from her?
Now she had other worries to lose sleep over. This strange business with the disappearing man in the gown, for example. She hadn't hallucinated, no matter what Randy and Mr. Bondurant and Dr. Kracowski thought. She believed religious visions were confined to the Old Testament, not let loose in the modern waking world. Though, Lord knows, the truth often came cloaked in the weirdest of disguises.
And the boy, Freeman, who had left Room Thirteen dazed and trembling. He was another puzzle in this stone house of mysteries.
'The boy's doing fine now,' came Dr. Kracowski's voice from behind her.
Kracowski stood under an oak tree with Dr. Swenson. Paula, the doctor liked to be called especially by the men. She batted her eyelashes every time she introduced herself by her first name, and doubly enjoyed it after some man had peered at the nameplate on her breast a full five seconds too long. Starlene wasn't jealous, though she wondered what strategy the woman had employed to get through medical school.
Kracowski waited looking at Starlene like a cat that had swallowed cream. Pleased with his playmate or smug in his therapeutic genius?
'I don't know,' Starlene said. 'Freeman looked awful shaky when he left that treatment room.'
'You don't trust me at all, do you?' Dr. Kracowski turned to Dr. Swenson. 'She doesn't trust me.'
'That's not really my place, sir,' Starlene said. 'My main responsibility is for the welfare of the kids.'
'As is mine, Miss Rogers. We're all part of the Wendover team. Victory is measured by happy hearts and contented souls. One child at a time.'
'What was that business with the electricity? I didn't think the home was authorized to administer electroconvulsive therapy. I'm pretty sure that neither Freeman nor his legal guardian authorized it.'
'Wendover is Freeman's guardian now,' Kracowski said.
'The treatment must have done his heart good,' Dr. Swenson said, in her cheerleader voice. 'He's well enough to be flirting with the Vomit Queen.'
Starlene wanted to choke the woman for her use of the nickname, but Kracowski's grin stopped her cold.
