“Who said anything about the truth?” asked Berenice.
“As long as I don’t have to hear one single word of it tonight,” said Sergei. “And you young ones just wait until the
“What do you mean? What are you saying?” Stuart said. “I wanna know the truth, damn it, about everything.”
“I’m game to hear all of it,” said Reuben. Phil nodded to that and raised his glass.
The laughter was rolling back and forth as if it were speech.
And Felix had all but given up on bringing any final serious note to the evening, settling for toasts and teasing Stuart and fending off Margon’s light jabs.
Reuben drank his coffee, loving the sharpness of the taste and the jolt of the caffeine, and pushed his wineglass away from him. He gazed lovingly and sentimentally at Laura, her blue eyes so vivid with her blue dress, and the emotions welled dangerously inside him. Seven minutes to go, he thought, his watch right in time with the grandfather clock in the main room, and then you take her in your arms and crush her with all your might and main as she crushes you, and you never forget this night, this Yuletide, this Modranicht, this year, this season in which your new life was born, and your deepest loves and understandings with it.
Suddenly a loud booming sounded from the front door.
And for a moment no one moved. Again came the sound, someone out there in the downpour, pounding on the front door.
“But who in the wide world!” declared Frank. He rose like the sentry on duty and marched across the dining room and into the main room.
A fierce draft swept through the house as the door was opened, lifting the fragile flames from the candles, and then came the crack of the door being slammed hard and bolted once more, and the sounds of two voices in argument.
Felix stood quietly at the head of the table, glass in hand, listening as if he had a presentiment or realization of who it was that had come knocking. The others were listening, trying to catch the identity of the new voice, and Berenice gave a soft little sound of misery.
Frank appeared, flushed and annoyed.
“You want him in this house?”
Felix didn’t immediately respond. He was looking past Frank into the alcove between the dining room and the living room.
And then as Frank moved away and returned to his chair, Felix beckoned to the newcomer.
A soaked and bedraggled Hockan appeared, his face and hands white and trembling.
“Good Lord, you’re drenched,” said Felix. “Lisa, one of my sweaters upstairs. Heddy, towels.”
The rest of the company sat silent around the table, and Reuben found himself watching in fascination.
“Come, take off this coat,” said Felix, unbuttoning the coat himself and slipping it from Hockan’s shoulders.
Heddy came behind him, blotting at Hockan’s wet hair, and then offering him the towel to wipe his face, but he just stared at the towel as if he didn’t know the significance of it.
“Step out of your wet shoes, master,” she said.
Hockan stood there in a daze.
He stood before Felix looking into Felix’s eyes, his face quivering and unreadable.
A small sound came out of him, something like a strangled word or a groan, and quite suddenly, Hockan broke down, his hand up to cover his eyes as his body shook with dry sobs.
“They’re gone, they’re all gone!” he said in a deep agonized voice, sobs erupting like coughs. “They’re gone, Helena and Fiona, and all the others.”
“Oh, come,” said Felix gently. He put his arms around Hockan and brought him to the table. “I know,” he said. “But you have us. You will always have us. We’re here for you.”
Hockan clung to Felix, weeping on his shoulder.
Margon rolled his eyes, and Thibault shook his head. Out of Sergei there came the inevitable deep growl of disapproval.
And Frank said in a hard low voice, “My God, Felix, you are past all patience, my friend.”
“Felix,” said Sergei ominously. “Is there no person under the sun—fairy, elf, demon, troll, or perfect scoundrel—whom you will not try to love and live at peace with!”
Thibault uttered a short bitter laugh.
But Hockan seemed to hear none of this. His soft helpless choking sobs continued.
Felix held him in a gentle embrace but he still managed to turn his head and look at the others.
“Yuletide, gentlemen,” said Felix, his eyes glazed. “Yuletide,” he said again. “And he’s our brother.”
No one answered. Reuben stole a glance at Phil, whose face was almost heartbreakingly sad as he gazed down the table at the two men. But there was a serene and wondering quality to his expression, too.
Hockan seemed as shattered as a man can be, his soul emptying in his private sobs, utterly oblivious to everyone and everything except Felix. “I don’t know where to go,” came Hockan’s muffled voice. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Yuletide,” said Margon finally. He stood up and placed his right hand on Hockan’s shoulder. “All right, brother. You’re with us now.”
Lisa had returned with the sweater over her arm, but it was not the time for it. And she waited in the shadows.
The muted, helpless weeping poured from Hockan.
“Yuletide,” said Berenice. The tears were sliding down her cheeks.
“Yuletide,” said Frank with an exasperated sigh and lifted his glass.
“Yuletide,” said Sergei.
And the same word came now from Laura and Phil and from Lisa and the other
Laura had tears in her eyes, and Berenice continued to cry, nodding as she looked gratefully to the others.
Reuben rose to his feet. He stood beside Felix.
“Thank you,” said Felix in a small confidential whisper.
“Midnight,” said Reuben. “The clock’s chiming.” And he put his arms around Felix and Hockan together before he turned to embrace his beloved Laura.
27
GRACE CALLED ON SUNDAY, January 6. Reuben was hard at work on an essay for Billie, this one on the tiny town of Nideck and its ongoing renaissance with new businesses and new home construction.
“Your brother needs you,” Grace said. “And he needs his father, too, if you can get the old man to come down here with you.”
“What’s happened? What do you mean?”
“Reuben, it’s his parish. It’s that neighborhood. It’s the Tenderloin. A couple of thugs attacked a young priest who was visiting Jim yesterday afternoon. Reuben, they beat the hell out of him, and castrated him. He died on the operating table last night, and maybe it was a blessing, I honestly don’t know. But your brother’s out of his mind.”
Reuben was aghast. “I can see why. Look, we’re coming. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“Jim called the police, and they came here to the hospital. Jim knows who’s behind this, some drug dealer, some contemptible piece of filth! But they said there was nothing they could do without the dead priest’s testimony. Some other witness had been murdered too. I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. Reuben, Jim just about went crazy when the priest died. And Jim’s been missing since last night.”
“What do you mean, Jim’s missing?” Reuben asked. He was on his feet, pulling his suitcase off the top shelf of the closet.
