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Chapter 31

The next thing I remember is hands, touching me briskly, covering me with something light and starchy. Lifting me. Smoothness against my back. Moving sensation. I tried to grasp at something, to hold on.

“She’s coming around. Set her down. Easy!”

Sinking sensation. Stillness. I opened my eyes and saw faces looking down into mine. Men. I didn’t know them. I began to struggle against the straps that held me down.

“Hey, hey, take it easy, everything’s fine now. Hey...” Strong, warm hands clasped mine and held them. White smile in a brown face. Friendly Comforting. I grew still and allowed him to place my hands on my stomach, covering them gently with his own. “You’re gonna be just fine, honey.”

I tried to speak and seemed to have no voice for a moment. My throat felt sore and raw. I forced words through it anyway. “Aloysius...where’s Aloysius?”

The dark, smiling eyes grew confused. “Who’s Aloysius, baby?”

A man who’d been standing over us knelt quickly and said something in the black man’s ear. I watched the dark eyes sharpen and glance quickly beyond me. Fleeting grimace. Then the eyes were on my face again, soft again. He smiled again. But this time it was phony and placating. I started to turn my head, to look where he had looked, and he stopped me with a touch, turning my face back toward him.

“Don’t worry about Aloysius, honey. Go back to sleep now. We’re taking you to a hospital. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“No!” Suddenly I remembered everything. “Aloysius! Aloysius! Please, I’m a doctor, please let me go to him...” I felt a small, hot prick in my arm. “Please, let me help him...”

Vinnie D’Agosta’s face loomed over me. “Cat, there’s a doctor working on him now, a doctor and paramedics. They’re doing all they can.” He looked sick. “Try to...take it easy.”

“Aloysius...” The floating sensation began to return. “Please...” I tried, but couldn’t keep my eyes open any more. As they closed, I felt myself being lifted again, carried. The rocking motion added to the sudden lightness in my mind.

***


I’ve been hospitalized ever since, one night for neurological observation, the rest of the time because they say I have suicidal ideations and will probably hurt myself if I am alone. They are right. I was transferred to this cushy behavioral health center, where I talk to doctors every day. They want to know about the audio tape, about how it made me feel, whether or not I have had any lasting effects from it. I lie and say no. I just want to be left alone.

D’Agosta came to see me on the third day. He explained how he’d had to initiate the search from the point where Proctor had dropped Aloysius off when he’d gone looking for me. How there had been so many square miles of forest to search that it had taken them a couple of days to find Diogenes’ hideout. How they’d finally come upon the old mill and heard the unearthly racket emanating from it.

I cried then, and Vinnie held me. He said, “He wanted to die rather than hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Why don’t you lie down for a while? Maybe you can sleep a little.” He took my arm and helped me up.

I stood for a moment, looking out the window at the bright day. It had snowed the night before. The center was bordered by woods and, for a moment, I thought I saw Aloysius in his black suit, coming out of the woods carrying a bucket of snow. I remembered eating the snow with him, and how cold we’d been, and how warm we’d become. How warm he’d become. “Oh, Vinnie, it hurts so bad.”

“I know.” His voice broke. “But it’ll get better, honey. It’ll get better. Come on.”

He put me to bed and sat with me, rubbing my back and shoulders as I cried, until I finally fell asleep. It took a long time.

***


I didn’t know if I would ever take up this account again. Didn’t know if there’d be anything else to say; if anything would ever change for me. I kept the pages, just in case, but with no real hope.

Then I awoke during the night about two months later. Someone was sitting on the edge of my bed. I could make out only a man’s silhouette, and I cringed away from it, closing my eyes tightly, whimpering. A hand reached out, caressing my face lightly, and a familiar soft voice spoke out of the darkness. “You’re all right, Cat. You’re all right. Open your eyes and see.”

I opened my eyes and the man moved so the glow from an outside light fell on his face. His beautiful, pale face. I saw the sad smile, the lambent silver eyes, and my hand flew to my cheek, pinching. Quick as a cat, he plucked my hand from my face, capturing it in his own long, slender hand. “It’s me, dearest. It’s Aloysius.” His face betrayed an uncharacteristic uncertainty, an uneasiness I’d never seen in him. “I’m...better now. I hope you’re not afraid of me, or...too angry with me...”

I had prayed for this moment, but couldn’t believe it was really happening, that he was really here. I reached out with my other hand and touched his face, then threw myself into his arms. He caught me to him and I felt the familiar hard, slender body, felt his strong, reassuring heartbeat. I whispered, “They let you go?”

“In a manner of speaking. They’ve done all they can for me, Cat. It’s up to me now.” He stroked my hair. “I could benefit from the assistance of a good doctor, though.”

I kissed him, then forced myself to pull away. “Let’s go.”

***


We’ve been here at the lake for six months. I’m still trying to remember the secret. Aloysius hypnotizes me every few days and we try, but so far we have been unsuccessful in ferreting it out of my subconscious. We go for long walks in the woods with Gandhi, the old stray tom who adopted us, and just live quietly, glad to be alive and together.

Every day we meditate and do other special mental exercises designed with the help of a Tibetan Master. Aloysius no longer wears, or even owns, a black suit. These days he wears warm turtlenecks and, taking a cue from me, faded denim. I am making good progress with my yoga and martial arts training. We bypass the small village near our place and shop in the nearest major city, in disguise. I am still working on learning the language. My memory is not what it used to be.

It’s been about eight months since that horrible time. Every night I lie in bed beside Aloysius, wondering if it will be this night. Knowing he is wondering the same thing.

Diogenes got out that day, you see. He was gone when D’Agosta and his men broke into the mill and found us; he had vanished into the snowy forest like a wraith. No sign of him has surfaced.

But I remember a whisper, like a snake slithering into my ear. A whisper, just before he left me to work on his brother and return with a killer. He’d licked my cheek, then spoken directly into my ear: “If by some chance you escape me, dearest Cat, know that I will find you. I will see you again. Look for me when...” and he’d given a clue. A clue that I can’t remember.

That is the puzzle we keep trying to solve. Our efforts grow more determined every day, for we know Diogenes well. About certain things, he always keeps his word, and we are sure he’ll keep it this time. It’s been eight months already, and we expect him any time now. We expect him to show up with some daring new plan or a new variation on the old one. We have made our home as secure as possible, but Diogenes is too clever to be thwarted by security. He will find a way in and the battle will begin again. If we survive it, we may return to some semblance of our old lives, but we like our lives the way they are now. I don’t know that we could live or work in a city, anyway. We find that loud music or irritating noise of any kind tends to make us both a little...cranky.

As long as his demented, genius brother lives, no one close to Aloysius will ever be safe. But I could more easily give up breathing than give up the feeling of his strong arms around me, or give up the joy I feel when even the smallest, saddest smile touches his lips.

I will not leave him. We will face his brother, and whatever else the future holds, together.

***


The end...

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