with it.”
“Me, too,” I muttered.
And while I ate, I pondered her. I saw her in a low-cut gown, green as the green of the sea, with full skirts. There was music, dancing, voices behind us. I wore black and silver and ... The vision faded. But it was a true piece of my memory, I knew; and inwardly I cursed that I lacked it in its entirety. What had she been saying, in her green, to me in my black and silver, that night, behind the music, the dancing and the voices?
I poured us more beer from the pitcher and decided to test the vision.
“I remember one night,” I said, “when you were all in green and I in my colors. How lovely things seemed- and the music...”
Her face grew slightly wistful, the cheeks smoothing.
“Yes,” she said. “Were not those the days? ... You really have not been in touch?”
“Word of honor,” I said, for whatever that was worth.
“Things have grown far worse,” she said, “and the Shadows contain more horrors than any had thought...”
“And ...?” I inquired.
“He still has his troubles,” she finished,
“Oh.”
“Yes,” she went on, “and he'll want to know where you stand.”
“Right here,” I said,
“You mean...
“For now,” I told her, perhaps too quickly, for her eyes had widened too much, “since I still don't know the full state of affairs,” whatever that meant.
“Oh.”
And we finished our steaks and the beer, giving the two bones to the dogs.
We sipped some coffee afterward, and I came to feel a bit brotherly but suppressed it. I asked, “What of the others?” which could mean anything, but sounded safe.
I was afraid for a moment that she was going to ask me what I meant. Instead, though, she leaned back in her chair, stared at the ceiling, and said, “As always, no one new has been heard from. Perhaps yours was the wisest way. I'm enjoying it myself. But how can one forget-the glory?” I lowered my eyes, because I wasn't sure what they should contain. “One can't,” I said. “One never can.”
There followed a long, uncomfortable silence, after which she said: “Do you hate me?”
“Of course not,” I replied. “How could I-all things considered?”
This seemed to please her, and she showed her teeth, which were very white.
“Good, and thank you,” she said. “Whatever else, you're a gentleman.”
I bowed and smirked.
“You'll turn my head.”
“Hardly,” she said, “all things considered.”
And I felt uncomfortable.
My anger was there, and I wondered whether she knew who it was that I needed to stay it. I felt that she did. I fought with the desire to ask it outright, suppressed it.
“Well, what do you propose doing?” she finally asked, and being on the spot I replied, “Of course, you don't trust me...”
“How could we?”
I determined to remember that we.
“Well, then. For the time being. I'm willing to place myself under your surveillance. I'll be glad to stay right here, where you can keep an eye on me.”
“And afterward?”
“Afterward? We'll see.”
“Clever,” she said, “very clever. And you place me in an awkward position.” (I had said it because I didn't have any place else to go. and my blackmail money wouldn't last me too long.) “Yes, of course you may stay. But let me warn you'-and here she fingered what I had thought to be some sort of pendant on a chain about her neek-'this is an ultrasonic dog whistle. Donner and Blitzen here have four brothers, and they're all trained to take care of nasty people and they all respond to my whistle. So don't start to walk toward any place where you won't be desired. A toot or two and even you will go down before them. Their kind is the reason there are no wolves left in Ireland. you know.”
“I know,” I said, realizing that I did.
“Yes.” she continued, “Eric will like it that you are my guest. It should cause him to leave you alone, which is what you want, n'est-ce-pas?”
“Oui.” I said.
Eric! It meant something! I had known an Eric, and it had been very important, somehow. that I did. Not recently. But the Eric I had known was still around, and that was important.
Why?
I hated him, that was one reason. Hated him enough to have contemplated killing him. Perhaps I'd even tried.
Also, there was some bond between us, I knew.
Kinship?
Yes, that was it. Neither of us liked it being brothers... I remembered, I remembered...
Big, powerful Eric, with his wet curly beard, and his eyes—just like Evelyn's!
I was racked with a new surge of memory, as my temples began to throb and the back of my neck was suddenly warm.
I didn't let any of it show on my face, but forced myself to take another drag on my cigarette, another sip of beer, as I realized that Evelyn was indeed my sister! Only Evelyn wasn't her name. I couldn't think of what it was, but it wasn't Evelyn. I'd be careful, I resolved. I'd not use any name at all when addressing her, until I remembered.
And what of me? And what was it that was going on around me?
Eric, I suddenly felt, had had some connection with my accident. It should have been a fatal one, only I'd pulled through. He was the one, wasn't he? Yes, my feelings replied. It had to be Eric. And Evelyn was working with him, paying Greenwood to keep me in a coma. Better than being dead, but...
I realized that I had just somehow delivered myself into Eric's hands by coming to Evelyn, and I would be his prisoner, would be open to new attack, if I stayed.
But she had suggested that my being her guest would cause him to leave me alone. I wondered. I couldn't take anything at face value. I'd have to be constantly on my guard. Perhaps it would be better if I just went away, let my memories return gradually.
But there was this terrible sense of urgency. I had to find out the full story as soon as possible and act as soon as I knew it. It lay like a compulsion upon me. If danger was the price of memory and risk the cost of opportunity, then so be it. I'd stay.
“And I remember,” Evelyn said, and I realized that she had been talking for a while and I hadn't even been listening. Perhaps it was because of the reflective quality of her words, not really requiring any sort of respouse— and because of the urgency of my thoughts.
“And I remember the day you beat Julian at his favorite game and he threw a glass of wine at you and cursed you. But you took the prize. And he was suddenly afraid he had gone too far. But you laughed then, though, and drank a glass with him. I think he felt badly over that show of temper, normally being so cool, and I think he was envious of you that day. Do you recall? I think he has, to a certain extent, imitated many of your ways since then. But I still hate him and hope that he goes down shortly. I feel he will...”
Julian, Julian, Julian. Yes and no. Something about a game and my baiting a man and shattering an almost legendary self-control. Yes, there was a feeling of familiarity; and no, I couldn't really say for certain what all had been involved.
“And Caine, how you gulled him! He hates you yet, you know...”
I gathered I wasn't very well liked. Somehow, the feeling pleased me.
