Higher Power

Backstory

2012-06-14T13:07:00.000-07:00

I was attempting to do something that would stand out in an agent's mind in the summer of 2005. So I thought up this story that's kind of "Nightmare on Elm Street" meets "The Notebook." Now there's a high concept.

Twenty years ago Max Caldwell went blind only to find he had the power to see and control other people's dreams. When he misuses this gift he accidentally kills his parents and spends twenty years in mental institutions, vowing never to use the power again.

When he's forced into the real world, he comes upon a woman in a coma named Sarah who suffered third-degree burns from a nasty fire. Because of this, her dreams feature violence that threatens to destroy her until Max intervenes to save her. Soon he's spending every waking moment at her bedside to create an alternate universe in her mind where she has everything she could ever want--except someone to spend this happiness with.

Until she meets Max in her dream world. The two of them find the happiness they never could in the real world, but soon events in that real world threaten to tear them apart.

Please enjoy "Higher Power..."

Epilogue

2007-06-14T13:05:00.001-07:00

Epilogue

Lindsey held the door open while Sarah toddled into the office on her canes. Sarah still had the ungainliness of someone not used to needing four legs instead of two to get around. She collapsed into the seat Max had occupied during his sessions. “How are you feeling?” Lindsey asked.

“Some days pretty good. Other days like shit.”

“What about today?”

“Shit.”

“That’s too bad. Let’s try to keep this short then.”

“Right.” Sarah scratched the fresh pink skin on her left cheek transplanted there two weeks ago. When she finished, she brushed hair over the area.

“The new skin looks great. When do you have to see Dr. Teague again?”

“A couple weeks. I hate it. It itches.”

“I’m sure that feeling will go away in time.”

“I guess.” Sarah was about as talkative in their sessions as Max had been. She could understand now why they’d gotten along together so well.

Lindsey opened her notes on Sarah’s case, reviewing everything they’d discussed over the last three months. “Mrs. Garnett tells me there was a problem the other night when you stayed out past curfew. She smelled alcohol on your breath.”

“She’s not my mother.”

“Were you out drinking, Sarah? I thought you promised to quit after the accident.”

“It was just a couple beers. No big deal.”

“I hope not, but you shouldn’t stay out past curfew. For my sake more than anything. I hate having Mrs. Garnett shouting in my ear about an unruly patient.”

“I lost track of time. Jesus Christ, it’s not the end of the fucking world.”

“There’s no need to get angry, Sarah. I only want to help you. So does Mrs. Garnett. We all want to help you recover. But we need your help. You have to want this to work.”

“I know.”

“What about the aquarium? How are things going there?”

“All I do is shuffle around the place giving tours to a bunch of hicks who stare at me like I’m a circus freak. I want to work with the animals, but Lucille still won’t let me. She hates me. She wouldn’t even have hired me back except the board was scared I’d sue.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. Have you tried talking about the situation with her?”

“Not really.”

“I know it can be hard, but you have to express your feelings. Tell her how uncomfortable you are about the tours and that you would like to work somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that will work.”

“You’d be surprised. My brother had a problem with his girlfriend because he was too embarrassed to express his feelings. He finally did and now they’ve been married for six months.”

“Congratulations.” Lindsey noted Sarah’s sarcasm.

“The point is, you have to at least try.”

“I suppose.”

Lindsey could see this wasn’t going to get anywhere. She opened the top drawer of her desk to pull out a hand mirror. She went around the desk to hold the mirror up to Sarah’s face. “This is a little trick a friend of mine taught me. I want you to look into this mirror.”

“Why?”

“Just humor me.”

“This is stupid.”

“Come on, give it a try. What do you see?”

As Sarah squinted into the mirror, Lindsey brushed the hair away from Sarah’s cheek to reveal the fresh skin. “All I see is an old, scarred freak.”

Lindsey took the mirror away. Max was much more persuasive when he performed this trick. If only she could hire him as a special assistant to sneak into people’s dreams and show them the potential they possessed, the way he had with her in the institution. “Half of achieving success is believing you can achieve success. I know that sounds like the line from an infomercial, but it’s true. Until you see that you can be more than your injury, nothing good will happen. Do you understand?”

“I get it, but what am I supposed to do, pretend it’s not there? Make believe I’m normal and pretty?”

“Normal and pretty are both very subjective words.” Lindsey shoved the mirror back into her drawer and then sat down. “I want you to work on seeing yourself as you want to be. Not just your face, but your life. Try to imagine your life the way you always dreamed it would be.”

“I guess I could give it a try.”

“Good, that’s all I ask. We can talk more about it next session. Is there anything else?”

Sarah cleared her throat and said, “Yes.”

“About the coma? Have you remembered anything yet?”

“Not really. I keep seeing faces. There’s one that looks a lot like you, except a lot heavier.” Since the night at the institution, Lindsey had lost seventy-five pounds. Whenever she was tempted to reach for a pint of ice cream, she had only to imagine the thin, beautiful twelve-year-old she could have been if she hadn’t spent so much time feeling sorry for herself. She figured she could still be a thin, beautiful twenty-nine-year-old. “There’s a man too. He has dark hair, big ears, and these really gentle eyes. I can’t remember his name, though. I thought he was sitting next to my bed when I woke up.”

Lindsey wished she could explain Max to Sarah, but she doubted Sarah would believe what had happened. Lindsey wouldn’t have either until she saw Max’s gift for herself. Instead, she said, “Maybe your unconscious mind is trying to tell you something. Have you considered dating again yet?”

“Me? Who would go out with someone as ugly as me?”

“Well, you know what they say, love is blind.” Lindsey laughed, but Sarah only raised an eyebrow. “Never mind. I’m sure you’ll find someone once you get out there and try.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I know it sounds unbelievable. I used to feel unattractive too and then I met a wonderful man who made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. So I guess I’m saying it’s possible even for those of us who don’t think so.”

“I hope you’re right.” Sarah grunted as she levered to her feet. Lindsey gathered up her briefcase to follow Sarah.

“I’ll see you next week,” Lindsey said. “Call me if you need anything. I’ve got another patient to visit.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

As Lindsey climbed the steps to her apartment, she heard the “Fur Elise” playing through the window. She opened the door and saw Max at the piano; he didn’t look up or stop playing at her entrance. “How was work today?” he asked.

“Fine. Same old, same old.” Just as she never mentioned Max with Sarah, she never talked about Sarah with Max. When he was ready to talk about her, he would. And she would be here to listen. “Aren’t you supposed to be practicing for tonight’s service? Pastor Robbins helped get you out of Gull Island Psych, so you better not let him down.”

“I won’t. I’m just warming up.”

She came up behind him to kiss him on the forehead. “Right. Don’t spend too much time warming up.”

He kissed her hand while he kept playing. “I’ll try.”

She let him go and sat down on the couch. As she watched him play, she wondered for a moment as she always did if maybe she’d never left the isolation room. Maybe she was still asleep and all this was some elaborate fantasy Max was engineering. Then she smiled and told herself as she always did that if she was still asleep, she didn’t want to wake up.

THE END

Chapter 30

2007-06-14T13:04:00.003-07:00

Chapter 30

Pastor Robbins sat down in the backseat of Lindsey’s Explorer next to Max. “Thanks for your help,” Lindsey said. “The next time the church is holding a fundraiser, you can put Max and I down for a big donation.”

“If this helps get our star pianist back, I’m more than willing to help,” Pastor Robbins said and then patted Max’s knee. “What you’re doing isn’t illegal, is it?”

“Not really, no,” Lindsey said. Max said nothing, letting her do all the talking. He didn’t have any idea about the specifics of the plan. After spending the night in Lindsey’s mind, Max had to wait a full day before she came back with a temporary order for his release. He didn’t know how the pastor had gotten involved with all this. He didn’t like the idea of getting a clergyman in trouble with the authorities if anything went wrong.

“Where are we going?” Max asked.

“We have to drop the pastor off at the church, then we’ll go to the hospital,” Lindsey said.

“Oh.” He turned his head in the pastor’s direction. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, my son.”

“If you try to help someone and instead you wind up hurting her, does God punish you?”

“Since He created us, He knows we’re not perfect. What’s in our hearts is more important than the success of our actions. As long as you truly want to help your friend, He will understand and embrace you for trying.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The Explorer came to a stop and the pastor opened the door. “I expect to see you here tomorrow, Max. Then you can tell me all about this undercover business.”

After the door closed, the SUV began moving again and Max leaned forward. “How are we going to get inside the hospital? As soon as security sees me, they’ll throw me out.”

“I’m not sure about that, but we’ll think of something when we get there.”

“Why did Director Burante agree to let me out? No one is supposed to leave the isolation room early.”

“Pastor Robbins was very persuasive,” Lindsey said. “It helps that he plays in the same foursome as the director.”

“Foursome?”

“They play golf together. That’s part of the reason you got the job there in the first place.”

“Oh.”

As they headed towards the hospital, Max considered a way to get inside. He could fake an injury, but that wouldn’t put him close enough to Sarah. Maybe they could make him some kind of disguise, but even if they got him as far as the room, someone was watching the door. “Do you still have that mobile phone?” he asked.

“You want to call someone?”

“Henrietta, at the hospital. She’s Sarah’s nurse. She’ll help us.” He didn’t know this for certain after everything that had happened. He’d lied to her about being a friend of Sarah’s and by now she no doubt knew he was a mental patient. She might have police waiting to take him away when he showed up.

“If you’re wrong, we might not get in at all.”

“I know, but there doesn’t seem like any other way.” Lindsey dialed the number and asked for Henrietta before giving the telephone to Max. When he heard her come on the line, he said, “Henrietta, it’s Max. I need your help.”

“Max, I’m not supposed to talk to you,” she whispered.

“I know, but this is important. I have to see Sarah.”

“There’s no way. They have a guard watching the door all the time, plus since they busted you, they’re patrolling the grounds too. You’d have a better chance robbing a bank.”

“I have to see her. I think I can help her.”

“Max, please, don’t start talking crazy.”

“I’m not. Ask Dr. Perry, she’ll tell you I’m not lying. I can help her out of the coma. I can wake her up.”

“Even if I believe you, what do you want me to do? Overpower the guards and barricade the room while you perform some kind of séance? I’ll lose my job.”

“All you have to do is help me get inside the room. Dr. Perry and I will do the rest.”

“Well, I suppose I could open the window and maybe you could climb in.”

“Good idea.”

“But if you do, I don’t know you’re there, all right? I don’t know anything about it.”

“I understand.”

“And afterwards, you owe me.”

“Thanks.” Max handed the phone back to Lindsey.

“Did she go for it?”

“She said she’ll leave the window open. We can climb in, so long as we don’t get caught by anyone outside.”

“Great, a blind man and a fat woman trying to break in through a window. Nothing can possibly go wrong there.”

Lindsey’s sarcasm turned out to be unwarranted. They managed to pick their way between the hedge and wall of the hospital until they found Sarah’s room. As promised, Henrietta had left the window open. Lindsey went first, grunting and huffing until she made it through. Then she grabbed Max’s hand to help him find the window.

The breaking in was so anticlimactic, Max thought it must be some kind of trick. When no one sprung a trap for a full minute, Max took his seat next to Sarah’s chair. “Does she look all right?” he whispered to Lindsey.

“She looks the same as usual,” Lindsey said. “I guess I’ll just stand here and let you do your thing. Good luck.”

Max nodded and then let Sarah’s mind draw him in. He didn’t know whether the world he’d created would still be intact or not. As he descended through an evening sky, he found everything running almost as if he’d never left.

Sarah patted Koo’s snout and then tossed the whale a fish. Max had been gone for a week now. No one knew where he’d disappeared to, not even his parents. The police had taken a report and the media had put up Max’s picture, but no one came forward with any information. It was as if he’d vanished.

She didn’t understand why he’d taken off after saying he loved her. “That’s what men do,” Alicia said during one of their walks. “They use you and then throw you away like a piece of trash.”

Perhaps, but Max hadn’t seemed like any other man she’d ever known. He was so sweet and shy, as innocent as a schoolboy. He wasn’t like the guys in the bars who only wanted to get laid, the kind of man she’d been interested in for too long. Max loved her. He didn’t just say the words; she heard it in his voice, saw it in his eyes, and felt it in his touch. If he’d been lying, then he was the most convincing liar she’d ever known.

She kept waiting for him to show up again as suddenly as he’d entered her life. Every time the phone rang at home or her office, she waited to hear his voice and hung up on the verge of tears. All day while she worked, she listened for the sound of his footsteps. She’d given the security guards and receptionist pictures of Max in case they did see him, but every day she asked and they reported nothing.

“He’ll come back,” she said to Koo. The whale only shot a burst of spray from her blowhole before disappearing beneath the water’s surface. Sarah was alone again.

“Sarah?” When she heard Max’s voice, she assumed it was her mind playing tricks on her. She heard him call her name again and then he appeared on the roof.

She thought of running into his arms like a wife whose husband has been away at war for years, but then she stopped herself, remembering Max hadn’t gone to war. He’d ditched her in the middle of the night after they’d fucked. She crossed her arms and said, “Where have you been?”

“I had to go away for a while,” he said. He stood next to the door leading up to the roof, as if afraid to come any closer.

“What does that mean?”

“I want to explain it to you, but I can’t.”

“Do you expect me to take you back when you won’t even say where you’ve been? Not even your parents knew. They’re worried sick about you. You just disappeared—” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. He ran forward to take her in his arms. At first she tried to fight out of his grasp, but then gave in. “Promise you won’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah, but I can’t stay. I have to leave tonight. I’m not coming back, ever.”

“What? Why? Max, you’re not making any sense!”

“I know, but just trust me. It’s all for the best. For you.” Before she could say anything else, he kissed her in a way that eased the pain of his disappearance and cryptic remarks about leaving again. None of it mattered; she only cared that he was here right now.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said after he pulled his lips away. “Maybe I could come with you. This aquarium job is too much for me anyway.”

“I wish I could take you with me, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Then I guess we better make tonight count.” She worked her lips into a smile, though inside she wanted to sob like a little child. “Let’s go back to my place.”

“No, I have somewhere else in mind.” He took her downstairs to his car, saying nothing the entire way. Instead of Gullcrest Heights, he drove into Fishtown, stopping in front of a dilapidated white house that seemed familiar.

“Why are we going here?” she asked.

He said nothing, holding her hand as they went up the stairs and then carried her across the threshold like a newlywed couple.

“What a dump. Couldn’t we get a motel at least?” she said after he put her down. He remained silent, but she saw a look of pain on his face.

He took her back to the bedroom, where she found only a queen-sized mattress and springs on the floor. The walls were gray and chipped; she imagined coming away with splinters if she touched any of the boards. “I’m sorry about all this,” he said. “I wish I could do more for you.”

“Max, let’s go back to my house and talk about this. I’m sure we can work something out.”

“I can’t. I’m not sure how much time I have left.”

“Are you dying? Is that why you left?”

“You could say that.”

“Oh God, Max, why didn’t you say something? I want to be with you, right until the end.” She ran her hands over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Let’s just get through tonight first,” he said as he slid off her skirt. They undressed each other slowly, savoring the moment.

The first time they had made love, she remembered the same look of peaceful concentration on his face he wore as he played the piano. This time his face tightened into a grim mask. Finally, tears came to his eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I don’t want this to end,” he said.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to. We can find a way—” He cut her off with a kiss and she decided to say nothing more on the subject. Enjoy tonight, she told herself. Enjoy it like it’s the last. They both took their time, going slow to make the experience last.

After she could no longer hold back her orgasm, she wrapped her arms as tight around his body as she could. I’m not letting you go, she thought. She would stay awake all night if she had to in order to make sure he didn’t go away without saying goodbye. “I love you,” she said.

“I love you too. I always will, no matter what happens.” He stroked her hair and stared at her with teary eyes.

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but sometime in the night she woke up and realized Max was gone. “Oh no,” she said into the darkness. When she got up to look for him, she smelled the smoke.

Smoke filled the hallway. “Max?” she called out. “Max, where are you?”

She put a hand to her mouth as she made her way down the hallway. The smoke brought tears to her eyes until she got down on her knees to crawl. “Max?” she called again through gasps for air.

The hallway led to a kitchen on one side and a dining room on the other, both engulfed in fire. She looked around for a way out, but saw nothing. Her only choice was to go through the fiery dining room and out the way she’d come with Max.

As she started to run through the dining room, a chunk of the ceiling gave way, landing only inches from her feet. “Max!” she screamed and then began coughing. A plume of fire came from inside the wall; she hit the floor a second before it would have hit her in the face. For a moment she lay on the smoldering floor of the dining room, trying in vain to catch her breath. Why would Max abandon her now? She tried to call his name again, but couldn’t get out more than a wheeze.

She crawled as fast as she could across the floor, the heat burning her palms and knees, but she ignored the pain. Ahead, she saw the front door through the living room. The doorway represented freedom from the hellish inferno all around her; she doubled her pace, making it into the living room just before another piece of ceiling crashed down to seal off the rest of the house.

Only a little farther, she told herself. The carpet was not quite as hot as the dining room floor, but the smoke was more intense. Her breath came out in gasps punctuated by coughs that racked her entire body. Still she kept crawling towards the front door. Then, outside the door, she saw Max.

Clad in a white jumpsuit, he looked like an angel against the morning light. She held out a hand, beckoning to him, but he didn’t move. “Max,” she croaked his name and then slid a few more inches towards him. “Help me.”

When he turned away, her last bit of strength gave way. She rolled over to look up at the ceiling. She couldn’t will herself to move as the ceiling cracked. There was a sound like ice breaking a moment before the ceiling collapsed. Her eyes turned back to the doorway before she passed out, but Max no longer stood there. He was gone.

Sarah’s eyes opened to a bright set of blurs that gradually came into focus. She managed to turn her head enough to see the machines at her bedside. Her throat felt so dry. She needed water. She tried to speak, but could only make a gurgling sound. “She’s awake,” a man’s voice said.

She turned her head to the other side of the bed and saw a tall man sitting there. He seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place where she’d seen him before. “She’s awake?” a woman’s voice echoed. A fat redhead appeared next to the man; she seemed familiar too. Had they met before? The fat woman left Sarah’s vision.

“It’s all right, Sarah. You’re going to be fine,” the man said. He squeezed her hand, which she only now realized he was holding. Why was this creep holding her hand? Was he a doctor?

The fat woman reappeared with a cup of water. She dribbled a few drops into Sarah’s mouth. “Not too much now. Don’t worry, Sarah, you’re safe now, understand? You’re in a hospital. A doctor is going to be here real soon to help you.”

“Who…are…you?” Sarah managed to get out. The man at her side jerked as if she’d slapped him. He let her hand drop.

The fat woman grabbed the tall man’s shoulder. “It’s time to go,” she said.

“Wait,” Sarah rasped. Who were these people? Why were they here? How long had she been in the hospital? The last thing she could remember was passing out in the living room after drinking a bottle of cheap vodka.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. She saw tears in his eyes before he turned away. The fat woman helped him out the window before crawling out herself. Sarah stared at the open window, waiting for them to come back until deciding they must have been a dream.

Chapter 29

2007-06-14T13:04:00.001-07:00

Chapter 29

Lindsey squinted into the mirror and frowned at what she saw. While the other girls at school had breasts and boyfriends, she still wore a training bra and had to spend Christmas vacation with her grandparents. She smoothed out her shirt and turned sideways in the mirror. Why couldn’t some of that belly fat migrate northwards?

At least in Oak Park she could have gone downstairs to watch television or maybe gotten a ride into Chicago for some Christmas shopping along Michigan Avenue. Instead, she was trapped at Grampy and Grammy’s place in Wisconsin. Her grandparents didn’t believe in television and the nearest town three miles down a snow-covered road contained only a general store and gas station.

She opened the top drawer of the antique dresser and started to take handfuls of socks and underpants from the drawer, shoving them into the cups of her training bra. The imitation breasts ended up crooked, with the left bulging more than the right. Even if they did look real it wouldn’t make a difference. No matter how much her breasts sprouted, her pudgy, freckled cheeks and the pageboy haircut Mother had insisted upon during one of her rare forays outside would still doom Lindsey to looking like a kid.

The bedroom door opened and her father stuck his head in. Lindsey tried to cover up her breasts, but it was too late. “My little girl’s had a growth spurt,” he said.

“Daddy, couldn’t you knock first?”

“I’m sorry, Lindseybear.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“All right, Ms. Perry, what should I call you?” Her father turned his back, giving her the opportunity to empty the bra into the drawer.

“How much longer do we have to be here?” she asked.

“We’ll go back for New Year’s, as long as we aren’t snowed in. We might need a team of sled dogs to get out.”

“I hate this place,” Lindsey said. She crashed onto the bed. “It’s all Mother’s fault.”

Daddy sat down next to her on the bed. “Your mom just needs a little rest. When we get back she’ll be all better.”

“That’s what you said Fourth of July.”

“I know it’s tough, kiddo, but we have to be patient with your mom. She’s having a rough time right now. She needs us to be strong for her.” Daddy patted her knee. “Come on, your grandma just made a fresh batch of egg nog. We better get some before your grandpa drinks it all.”

“In a minute.”

“I’ll try to save you a glass.” Daddy winked before waddling out of the room. It wasn’t fair, Lindsey thought. Her brothers never had to put up with any of this. Alex and Gavin were already in college and did whatever they wanted. The others got to stay out late every night. They were lucky to get their looks from Mom’s side of the family while she got hers from Daddy.

She heard Grammy call her name and went downstairs. Grampy sat in his La-Z-Boy underneath a mounted deer’s head. He raised a silver stein he claimed to have taken from Berlin during the war. “About time you came down.”

“Well, here I am.”

“Your father said you had a growth spurt. Looks like it’s all horizontal.” Grampy laughed and then took another drink. Lindsey held back tears, cursing Mother for sending her here.

“Joseph, watch your tongue. There’s nothing wrong with a little babyfat. Here you go, dear.” Grammy handed a mug in the shape of Santa’s head to Lindsey. Grampy muttered something before hoisting the stein again. “If you wait just a minute I’ll take out a batch of sugar cookies.”

“I’m fine,” Lindsey said. She settled onto the end of the couch farthest from Grampy’s recliner. God, how she missed Oak Park, where she could stretch out on the sofa to watch Christmas specials with Daddy.

“Dad, you shouldn’t tease Lindsey,” Daddy said.

“I’m just trying to toughen the creampuff up. Can’t be any worse than what the kids in school say, right Fatty?”

Lindsey slammed the mug on the coffee table. “I hate this place!” she shouted. The tears she’d been holding back came as she launched herself from the couch. Before snatching her winter jacket from a hook next to the door, she turned to her father and added, “And I hate you for making me come here!”

“Lindsey—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish. She pounded down the front steps and ran down the snowy driveway. If only she was old enough to drive, then she could steal the car and drive back to Chicago. But even a hick town in Wisconsin had to have some kind of transportation. A bus, a train, a dogsled, she didn’t care right now. Anything to get the hell out of here.

She saw headlights approaching from the direction of the house and scrambled across a ditch into the woods so they wouldn’t find her. The forest was silent except for her footsteps crunching through the snow. She kept chugging along, branches and underbrush tearing at her clothes. After climbing over a downed tree, she saw the icy waters of Lake Michigan.

She cleared snow from a rock to use as a bench while she thought of what to do next. Even if she managed to get home, Mother would be there, lying in bed with a vacant expression on her face, her hair in greasy tangles, and a bottle of pills on the nightstand. It wasn’t fair that Mother could be so selfish.

She thought of what she’d said to Daddy, deciding she should go back to her grandparents’ house. She would endure Grampy’s verbal jabs about her weight for Daddy’s sake. He didn’t have anyone else with Mother in bed and the boys all gone. He needed her to be strong, not crying like a baby.

After wiping the tears from her eyes and snot from her nose, she headed back the way she’d come. She trudged up the driveway, where Daddy’s car sat in the same place as when she’d left. She must have imagined the headlights earlier. Had anyone cared that she’d gone?

She bent down as she crept towards the house. When she reached the front window, she peeked inside and saw Daddy helping Grampy put up a Christmas tree. Where had they gotten the tree? Her grandparents never had one because Grammy was allergic to pine needles and Grampy refused to buy an artificial tree. Daddy must have brought one, though she couldn’t remember seeing him put a tree in the car.

She climbed up the front steps and turned the doorknob only halfway before stopping. In the glass of the front door she saw a reflection, but it was not hers. The girl looking back at her had a thin face with clear skin. Beneath a striped winter hat, hair the same shade of red as Lindsey’s streamed down past her shoulders. Lindsey turned sideways and the reflection did the same, giving her a clear view of breasts pushing against the fabric of a pink trench coat. Lindsey ran a hand—clad in mittens matching the hat—along her narrow waist. She actually had a waist! What was happening?

She opened the front door and went inside to see if anyone noticed the change. “I’m back,” she said.

Grampy smiled at her, which gave her a nervous shiver. “Hi there, cutie pie. You’re just in time to put on the star.”

This wasn’t right. Grampy being nice to her? She couldn’t move or say anything until Daddy came over to hand the star to her. This was all wrong; it was all a trick. She wasn’t pretty, Grampy never called her “cutie pie”, and her father—

She turned around and began to run.

Max found her standing up to her knees in the lake, staring down at the water. He floated along the water’s surface, coming to a stop next to her. She didn’t appear to notice him yet. Her face was red, but he couldn’t see any tears in her eyes. “The Gap, right?” she said.

“What?”

“I thought I recognized this outfit from when you asked to go to The Gap.” She ran a mittened hand along the pink trench coat. “Everything feels so real.” She continued to look down at the water as she ran a hand along her face as he had done during their first session.

“Oh,” he said, realizing she meant more than just the clothes he’d given her.

“I could stay here forever,” she said in a voice so low he had to float closer to hear. “I could grow up pretty and popular with Daddy still alive. Grampy would be nice and Mother wouldn’t be depressed all the time. I wouldn’t ever have to worry about anything ever again. It would be like Heaven.”

“I guess so.”

“Except I know this isn’t real. After the sedative wears off and I wake up, I’ll be back in the real world. Fat, no friends, no boyfriend, and my brothers calling only for advice.”

“I’m sorry,” Max said.

“No, Max, don’t be. You just wanted me to feel better.” She turned to him and smiled. “I never thought I could be beautiful. When you get so used to seeing yourself a certain way, it’s hard to remember there were other possibilities.”

“I suppose.”

“How do you do this?”

“I don’t know. I just have to concentrate on seeing things and they happen. It’s hard to explain.”

“Amazing.” Lindsey waded back to the shore and sat down on the beach. As she watched Max float across the water, her eyes widened. “You can walk on water? What else can you do?”

“Pretty much anything.”

“Show me.”

“All right. Don’t be scared. I’m not going to let anything happen.” He wrapped an arm around Lindsey’s waist and took off into the air. She screamed as they zipped across Lake Michigan, going faster and rising higher until they were above the clouds into clear blue sky.

“OK, you made your point. I’m starting to feel a little airsick up here.”

“Sorry.” He flew her back slower, feeling her hands digging into him. “I’m not going to drop you.”

“I’m sure you won’t. I just don’t like flying unless there’s a stewardess to get me liquored up.” When they reached land again, she collapsed onto a rock. He sat next to her to stare at the gray water. “So I suppose this is the sort of thing you’ve been doing with Sarah Gladstone. What exactly have you done with her?”

Max explained the world he had created for Sarah. He described Sarah’s nightmares, his initial attempts to make her happy in a realistic world, the disastrous lovers he created, and then their relationship after he revealed himself. When he finished, Lindsey was silent for a long time. Then she said, “Max, you realize none of this is real. It’s all an elaborate fantasy. By continuing it, you’re only prolonging the suffering for both of you.”

“I’m not prolonging her suffering. I’m relieving it.”

“I know you want to help her, just like you wanted to help me, but you can’t. The world you’ve created for her sounds like a paradise, but it’s a trap. It’s a way to keep her mind from having to deal with the trauma.”

“But she’s in a coma.”

“Yes, and she’ll never wake up if her mind is so engrossed in the illusion that it becomes real to her. If you really want to help end her pain, then let her go.”

“I can’t do that. I love her.”

“If you do, then you’ll do what’s best for her, not what you want for her. Until she faces the reality of what’s happened to her, she’s not going to emerge from that coma and eventually the doctors will pull the plug on her.”

“You’re just jealous of us.”

“Max, I want to help you. But you have to understand she’s going to die unless you let her go.”

“No! You’re just like all the others.” Max began to rise into the air. “I’m not going to let you ruin everything.”

“Max, wait! Come back. Let’s talk about this.”

Max continued rising, the air turning colder in his wake. When he stopped, dark clouds formed all around him, exploding with waves of snow spread by screaming winds that froze the lake in an instant. Before Lindsey could escape into the forest, three-foot drifts hemmed her in.

He shouldn’t have asked for her help. He should have known she was no different than the others. If she woke up, she would make sure he never got to see Sarah again. She would keep him in Gull Island Psych forever while Sarah’s nightmares returned to torment her. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t lose the woman he loved.

The snow now reached up to Lindsey’s neck. She flailed her arms around in an attempt to keep her head above the drifts. “Max!” she called. “Max, don’t do this.”

Max rose higher into the air until she was only a speck of red against the snow. Another minute and the drifts would rise over her head, burying her. Then he would be free of her.

“Max!” Lindsey screamed. Before the snow rose over her head, she said, “Is this what happened to Alberto Conte? And your parents?”

His parents. Maybe they hadn’t died because he got scared. Maybe they had died because he wanted them to die, just like Conte and now Lindsey. He was a monster. “Oh God, no,” he whispered.

As he sank back to the ground, the wind fell silent and the snow melted. Max collapsed onto the beach, resting his head against the sand. “I’m sorry,” he moaned. “I’m sorry.”

Lindsey coughed up the last of the melted snow and then tried to catch her breath. The whole world had turned first white, then black, until the snow smothering her melted. She opened her eyes to watch Max, his entire body glowing like a star, crash to the ground. She wanted to help him, but could only lay in the sand like a beached whale to cough up water.

Once she could breathe again, she wobbled to her feet and staggered along the beach to where he rested, sobbing into the sand. She heard him say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.”

She reached out to put a hand on his back, hoping she didn’t startle him. Just because he had stopped from killing her didn’t mean she was out of the woods yet. “Max? Max, it’s all right. I’m fine. I know you didn’t want to hurt me.”

He looked up at her, tears still running down his cheeks. “I killed them,” he said. “It’s my fault.”

“Max, what happened that night? Did you see into their dreams like mine and Sarah’s?”

Then Lindsey found herself plunged into darkness. For a moment she thought Max was trying to kill her again, until she felt a sleeve brush her face. She must be in a closet.

“This isn’t fair!” a boy’s voice shouted. Lindsey opened the closet door a crack and saw a younger version of Max sag onto his bed. “Why can’t I go?”

Lindsey saw a petite woman with long hair the same color as Max’s in the doorway. “I’m sorry, Max, but I don’t think you’re ready yet for a boy-girl party.”

“Everyone else is going.”

Max’s father came up next to his mother. Except for the light brown hair, he looked identical to the adult Max. “Young man, you know that’s no reason.”

“Alicia’s parents are going to be there. No one’s going to be drinking or using drugs or anything.”

“I don’t trust Alicia’s parents,” his mother said. “That older daughter of theirs got herself pregnant at sixteen.”

“Mom, please, nothing is going to happen. Just let me go for a few minutes, please?”

“I’m sorry, Max.”

“This is because I’m blind, isn’t it? You think I’m a helpless little baby that can’t take care of himself.”

“Of course not—”

“I hate you!” Max screamed. “You’ve always treated me like a baby. I wish you’d just leave me alone.”

Lindsey jumped back as Max’s mother charged forward to slap him across the face. “How dare you say that after everything we’ve done for you!” His mother raised her hand to strike again while Max defiantly looked up at her without touching his cheek. She lowered her hand and then ran from the room in tears.

“Max, go apologize to your mother,” his father said.

“No. I’m not sorry.”

“Fine. You can stay in here until you’re ready to act like a mature person instead of a spoiled child.” Max’s father closed the door, leaving Max alone to bury his head into his pillows. From the closet, Lindsey wanted to comfort Max, but she knew she had to let this run its course for Max to work through the pain of the memory.

Max lay on the bed for hours until Lindsey heard a door across the hall shut. Then Max rolled out of bed and crept to his door. He rested there a few minutes, waiting until his parents fell asleep. After a while he opened the door and crawled across the hallway. Lindsey followed, staying out of sight as Max opened the door to the master bedroom.

His parents slept in a tangle of arms and legs with Max’s mother’s head on his father’s chest. Young Max crawled across the room, taking up station between a dresser and the wall. Lindsey crouched in the doorway, dreading what she suspected would happen next.

The bedroom disappeared, replaced by a lush green hilltop overlooking the harbor. Lindsey found herself hovering over McAlbee Point, before commerce overran the area. Max’s parents sat on a checkered blanket with a picnic basket, enjoying the sunset while a sailboat drifted along the water. Then she smelled smoke.

Max’s parents drank a toast, oblivious to the fire that had started at the base of the hill. They set aside their wineglasses to kiss passionately while the fire continued burning its way towards them. Lindsey tried to scream a warning to them, but they didn’t hear her.

At the end of the kiss, Max’s mother crinkled her nose. “Do you smell something?” she asked. “It smells like smoke.”

Max’s father must have noticed the smell too; he crawled over to the edge of the hill. Lindsey saw his eyes grow wide as he stared down at the growing inferno ready to swallow McAlbee Point. “Oh my God,” he said.

Max’s father took his wife’s hand and then they scrambled to find some way down, but they were trapped on all sides by fire. “What do we do?” Max’s mother said.

“Someone will see the fire and rescue us,” Max’s father said. “We’ll just have to wait.”

Lindsey searched the sky for Max, but she didn’t see him anywhere. On the ground, his parents huddled together at the base of a tree. “I can’t leave you down here,” his mother said.

“Don’t worry about me. Just climb as high as you can.”

His parents kissed again, a brief yet tender kiss before his father helped his mother into the lower branches of the tree. Then his father took the picnic blanket to swat at the flames climbing the hill. Still the fire kept coming, crawling inexorably to the top of McAlbee Point. Max’s father retreated from the heat and smoke until he stood at the base of the tree. From the branches, Max’s mother screamed.

Then Lindsey saw Max at last. He stood among the flames, not bothered by the heat or smoke, staring at the scene unfolding with a look of shock. Lindsey waited for Max to do something, but he stood in place as his father climbed up the tree to hold his mother before the inferno consumed them both.

When the tree toppled to the ground, McAlbee Point disappeared and Lindsey found herself in the bedroom once more. Max stood in the corner, his body perfectly still. Then he crept forward to the bed, where his parents lay motionless. He ran his hands over their faces, a look of pain coming to his face at the realization they were both dead.

He brushed past Lindsey as he raced down the hall to the kitchen. His fingers clawed at the cabinets and appliances, knocking dishes to the floor. He found the door for the pantry and collapsed inside. Lindsey followed him, sitting next to him while he cried.

“Max, it’s all right. It was an accident,” she said.

“I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t.” Max sniffled and then turned to her. “Maybe I didn’t want to stop it. What if I wanted them to die? Maybe that’s why they didn’t wake up. I wouldn’t let them.”

“No, that’s not true. You were just an angry kid. You wanted to teach them a lesson. You didn’t mean for anything bad to happen.” As she said the words, she knew she meant them for herself as much as for Max. She had never intended for Daddy’s car to go off the road into the ravine. She had just been angry with him. Just an angry, stupid kid. “Max, you can’t keep hiding from the past. You have to let go of this guilt you’ve been carrying around for twenty years and start living in the real world.”

“I can’t.”

She took Max into her arms. “Don’t worry, Max, I’m going to help you through this. You don’t have to face this alone anymore.”

Chapter 28

2007-06-14T13:03:00.003-07:00

Chapter 28

Max was confined to the isolation room, or what the other patients called “the rubber room.” The walls were not padded, but they were smooth with no windows anywhere Max could find by using his hands. A mattress lay in one corner of the room and a toilet and sink in another.

He imagined somewhere they had a camera to keep an eye on him, but he couldn’t reach the ceiling to find it. They’d taken his cane after he used it to bludgeon Dr. Lee during their first session. An orderly told Max he’d broken the doctor’s nose and an expensive pair of glasses. He wished he could have done much worse. When Dr. Lee smugly told him Sarah was only a delusion, Max felt the same rage as in Conte’s dream. What he felt for Sarah was not a delusion.

When the door opened, he assumed it was simply the orderly, until he smelled the combination of rose, sandalwood, and freshly-cut grass he’d come to associate with Lindsey. “Max? Max, it’s Lindsey.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to talk.”

“I don’t care. I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“Please, Max, I heard what happened with Dr. Lee. I thought maybe we could continue our sessions here. Would you like that?”

“Let me visit Sarah and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“You don’t understand what you’re doing to her. She’s suffering. I can help her. Why won’t you let me?”

“Max, stop this! Nothing is going to happen until you quit with that story. Do you understand?” He said nothing. She sighed and then said in her joking tone, “This is some place you’ve got here. Should I take the toilet or the floor?”

“I don’t care. Do what you want. That’s all you people ever do. None of you ever listen to me.”

“‘You people’? What do you mean by that?”

“Doctors. You’re all the same. You ask me questions and then don’t listen to the answers, unless they’re the answers you want me to say.”

The end of the mattress sagged as Lindsey sat down by his feet. He pulled his feet away, pressing himself into the corner so they couldn’t touch. “Max, that isn’t fair. I do want to help you. But I can’t help if you won’t allow me.”

“If you want to help, take me to Sarah so I can make sure she’s safe. That’s all I want.”

“I spoke with Dr. Teague yesterday. All her vitals are unchanged. She’s stable. That’s about all you can ask for considering her injuries.”

“That’s not what I mean. I’m not talking about her physically. I mean, inside. Don’t you understand?”

“What are you saying, you’re a psychic?”

“Sort of.” He didn’t know whether he should elaborate or not. She would only think he was crazy, just like everyone else. She would send the orderly in to shoot him up with sedatives again and they’d keep him that way until he was like one of the drooling idiots in the rec room who wandered around in their pajamas all the time. If he said nothing, they would keep him here anyway. Either way, he couldn’t help Sarah.

“Max, I want to understand. How can you help Sarah?”

“In her dreams. I can see her dreams and I can control them. I can save her from the nightmares. I can make her happy. We were happy, until you came along.”

“Her dreams? You mean you’ve been communicating with her unconscious mind? How?”

“I don’t know. I just can.”

“Is she the only one?”

“No. Anyone who’s dreaming.”

He heard her scratching notes on a pad, no doubt noting how crazy he was to think he could see into people’s dreams. “When did this first happen?” she asked.

“After I lost my sight.” The first time it happened was during a thunderstorm. When a clap of thunder shook his room, he woke up screaming. Mom and Dad let him sleep in their bed that night.

The gesture was meant to comfort him, but instead he woke up screaming again after seeing Dad’s dream. His father dreamed about a concert hall where everyone wore powdered wigs and 18^th Century clothing. Dad had just finished a Mozart sonata on the piano when a woman came up to him. Max recognized Mom beneath the powdered wig and white face make-up. When Mom began pulling down her dress, Max retreated to his own bedroom, where he locked the door for the rest of the night.

“So you’re saying that losing your sight gave you some kind of extrasensory perception?” Lindsey asked.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.”

“A lot of people claim to have some kind of extrasensory ability. I have to admit this is the first time I’ve ever heard about someone being able to see into other people’s dreams. Well, except for the Nightmare on Elm Street movies.”

“This isn’t a joke! It’s real.”

“All the supposed psychics think they have a real ability too. That doesn’t mean there’s any scientific evidence to back it up. I’m sorry, Max.”

“You want evidence? I can give you evidence.”

“If you have the testimonials of other patients here, that’s not good enough.”

“No, even better.” Max leaned forward and faced Lindsey. “Sleep in here tonight and I’ll prove I’m right.”

“I can’t do that, Max. I had to twist a lot of arms just to get in here to see you. They’ll never let me sleep in here.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“It’s not just safety. There’s the ethical problem too. A lot of people on the state board might think sleeping with a patient is a tad inappropriate. I’ll lose my license.”

“You don’t have to sleep in the same bed. If you want, you could set up a barrier between us. As long as the wall isn’t too thick, I’ll be able to reach you.”

“I don’t know—”

“You said you wanted to help me. So help me.” He stood up and began pacing the room as he thought of how to convince her. “Look, if I’m wrong and nothing happens, then it proves I’m delusional, right? But if I’m right and I can appear in your dreams, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth. Either way, doesn’t it help you to treat me?”

“I do want to help you, but if I go through with this, they’ll reserve a padded cell for me. What you’re saying is simply not possible. I’m sorry.”

The mattress creaked and he heard Lindsey’s footsteps nearing the door. He was almost out of time. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “I’m sorry I put you in this position. You’ve been the nicest doctor I’ve ever had and I never meant to hurt you. You have to understand that what Sarah and I have is special. We love each other.”

“Max, whatever you think your relationship is with Sarah Gladstone, it’s not real.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but why can’t you give me the chance to prove I’m right? All I want is the chance to show you I’m not the person you think I am.” He collapsed back onto the bed. “No one has ever believed me. Not even my parents. I want someone to believe me, just once. Please, help me.”

He waited for her response, listening for any sound that might indicate what she was feeling. Finally, she said, “All right, I’ll see what I can do. If nothing else, it might make for an interesting article in a medical journal.”

“Thank you, Dr. Perry.” She said nothing before leaving the isolation room. After all these years, he would have the chance to prove he was right. As soon as he did, Dr. Perry would have no choice but to let him see Sarah so they could be together. This time forever.

Chapter 27

2007-06-14T13:03:00.001-07:00

Chapter 27

While Max paced from one end to the other backstage, his father sat calmly on a stool, browsing the program. Wainwright Hall, Max couldn’t believe it. It was nothing compared to Carnegie Hall or the concert houses in Europe, just a square brick building that held a couple hundred seats, but until his parents died, he’d often imagined playing here.

His father had been a fixture at Wainwright Hall, giving recitals with his students several times a year. The night of a recital had always been a big deal for Max when he was little; Mom let him stay up past his bedtime so they could sit through the whole show. The other kids in the hall fell asleep before the conclusion of the first piece, but Max stayed awake through it all, held in a spell by the music.

After Max lost his sight, he and Mom stopped coming to Wainwright Hall and Dad gave fewer public performances. When Max asked why, Dad said, “I want to focus on my most talented student. Someday it’ll be your turn on stage.”

Someday had come at last. Max didn’t think he could go on. Sweat dripped off him in sheets, his knees quivered with every frantic step, and his stomach churned like an ocean during a hurricane. He couldn’t go out in front of hundreds of people like this. He’d never played before a crowd so large. The last time he had played to an audience had been in the rec room of Gull Island Psych to a bunch of lunatics on medication.

Mom stopped his pacing to straighten his tie and wipe sweat from his forehead. “Don’t worry, honey, everything will be fine. This isn’t different from any other concert.”

“Right.” Of course to them he had played in all the great houses of the world, accompanied by the finest orchestras. “It’s just coming home is a little harder than I thought.”

Dad slapped him on the shoulder. “Nonsense. You’ll be great. And you’ll have me right across from you.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Then he saw Sarah hovering by the curtain. She was wearing a sleeveless blue gown that matched her eyes and with her hair pinned up, she looked like a movie star at the Oscars. She blushed and said, “I’m not sure what to say. The last time I saw anyone play the piano was this little jazz club in New Orleans—” She shook her head. “It’s not important. I’m sure you’re going to do great.”

“I hope so.”

She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “For luck,” she said. He wanted to kiss her back, a long passionate kiss, but he couldn’t in front of his parents. Sarah flashed him a knowing smile that promised such a kiss later, in private, before disappearing behind the curtain to take her seat.

A stagehand told Max it was time to begin. “Here we go,” he said, mostly to himself, before walking out to the Steinway grand piano still hidden by the curtain. He took his seat at the bench, waggled his fingers to loosen up, and then arranged his feet on the pedals. He played the opening notes of Beethoven’s “Moonlight” sonata as the curtain rose.

With only a dim blue light illuminating Wainwright Hall, Max couldn’t see Sarah in the front row. She was there, watching him, as were his parents backstage. He closed his eyes, finding the keys just as Dad had instructed him after he went blind. His fingers knew where to go. He needed only to let his body flow with the music.

As he started the fast-paced presto agitato, he no longer thought about all the eyes watching him. He slammed the final keys and then slumped over the piano to catch his breath. The audience’s polite applause soon grew in volume until it hurt Max’s ears. He took a sip of water before tapping the opening notes to the “Fur Elise,” the first piece Dad had taught him after he went blind. A second piano joined in, a spotlight coming to life to reveal Dad at an identical piano facing Max. Max hesitated, watching the look of concentration and peace on his father’s face. He wanted to just sit there and watch his father for hours, but then Dad looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. They continued the piece together in perfect unison, breezing through the “Fur Elise” and into the “Pathetique” sonata before the audience could applaud.

When they finished, Max jumped off the bench to hug Dad. “I missed you,” Max said.

“So did I,” Dad whispered into Max’s ear as the audience roared its approval. “Now, you think you can keep up with your old man?”

“We’ll find out.”

Max let Dad lead off the “Les Adieux” sonata, listening to the somber adagio that matched the look on Dad’s face. Max took over the andante espressivo, almost losing his place when he noticed Dad’s look of pride. They reunited for the furious vivacissimamente, both covered in sweat and out of breath by the end. Max turned to the audience, his eyes fixing on Sarah. She made sure her parents and Alicia weren’t watching before blowing him a kiss. He was grateful the curtain closed for intermission so the audience couldn’t see him blush.

“They love you. I’m so proud of both of you,” Mom said. Dad kissed her the way Max wanted to kiss Sarah. Embarrassed, Max went over to one of the stagehands to make sure the preparations were ready for the surprise he’d arranged for Sarah. The stagehand assured him everything was in place.

When the curtain went up after intermission, Max held a microphone to his lips. “You might not be aware of this, but this is the first time my father and I have played together in public. There’s one piece we’ve always wanted to play. It’s still in the experimental stage, so please bear with us.” Max handed the microphone to a stagehand and then turned back to the piano to begin.

He and Dad had spent a week in secret meetings translating Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” to the piano. Max began the piece, using only his left hand on the low keys. As the haunting melody swelled—Barber’s figurative river gathering momentum—Dad joined in. At the climax, Max tapped a single high note and then let silence hang in the air. Dad finished the remainder of the piece. Afterwards, Dad smiled at Max, his look of satisfaction more important than the audience’s applause.

They picked up the pace with the “Tempest” sonata. Max forgot about the crowd, even Sarah, focusing instead on his father. Dad played with all the intensity Max remembered as a child, pouring out torrential outbursts of emotion in the finale of the “Tempest” until Max thought he might pass out. In trying to match Dad, Max had never felt so close to the music or his father. When this was over, he promised himself to convince Dad to make their concerts a regular occurrence.

They finished with the “Appassionata” sonata, ending the piece with a flourish. Then Wainwright Hall went dark. The audience got to its feet, some throwing roses onto the stage. When the spotlight came back up, Max stood with an arm around Dad. They bowed together to the crowd, waving their thanks. Dad gave Max’s hand a squeeze before walking offstage, leaving Max alone.

He took the microphone again and waited for the crowd to settle down before speaking. “There’s one last piece I wanted to play tonight, one very special to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back home, a very long and winding road that brought me here, but there’s nowhere I’d rather be.” He cleared his throat and looked down at Sarah before continuing, “For this one I’ve invited a few friends to help me out.”

Lights went on to reveal the Holy Redeemer choir behind Dad’s piano, Pastor Robbins at the head. Max sat down at his piano, his eyes remaining on Sarah as he began “The Long and Winding Road,” the song that in a strange way had brought them together at last. She looked horrified at first, but then her expression softened.

The choir lent the old Beatles tune a heavenly aura that filled Wainwright Hall. As Max played and watched Sarah, he thought of the long and winding road that had brought him to her. He had lost everyone and everything that mattered to him, but now after twenty years he had his parents, his music, and his sight back and, more importantly, he had Sarah.

She stared at him from the front row, her face a mixture of wonder and joy, like a child’s on Christmas morning. When their eyes met, she mouthed the words he’d been longing to hear. His fingers almost slipped off the keys, but then he collected himself and turned back to the piano to finish her song.

Max finished to a rousing cheer from the audience. He bowed, blowing a kiss in Sarah’s direction before walking off the stage. The curtain closed behind him, the audience still applauding. Pastor Robbins rushed up to Max to shake his hand. “You played beautifully, Max.”

“Thanks for all your help. I know it was kind of short notice. If there’s anything I can do for you—”

“Nonsense. I’m glad to help.” The pastor squeezed Max’s shoulder and winked as he said, “I better get going. Your public awaits. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

Sarah rushed into his arms. He swept her around in a full circle before kissing her in the same way as his parents kissed at intermission.

He led her away from everyone else, out an emergency exit and onto the loading platform behind Wainwright Hall. “I love you,” he said, giving voice to the words she’d mouthed to him. “I have since the moment I first saw you.”

“I love you too, Max. You saved my life and—” She looked down at her feet before continuing, “You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever known.”

“Is that a good thing?”

She smiled and gave him a light slap on the cheek. “Of course it is.” She kissed him again. When she pulled back, she whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”

“What about our parents?”

“We can make an excuse.” She led him inside, where Sarah’s parents were talking with Max’s. Sarah found Alicia and asked, “Can you tell our parents we had to go? We’ll catch up with them later.”

Alicia looked at them strangely for a moment and then her mouth curved into a smile. “I get it. Sure, I’ll tell them. You kids have fun.”

They took Max’s car back to Sarah’s house. Along the way, Max felt more nervous than before the concert. The Alberto Conte incident ran through his mind again, but this was different. This wasn’t revenge or animal lust; this was love.

“Are you sure your parents won’t come home?”

“Not for a while. And if they do, so what? We’re adults.” She squeezed his hand before leading him upstairs. “You’ve done this before, right?”

“Yes.”

When they got to the bedroom, she reached up to take the pins out of her hair, and then shook it free, the ends touching his face. She turned around and said, “Could you help me with the zipper?”

With a trembling hand, he unzipped her dress and watched it fall to the floor. Then he reached for the straps of her bra. When she turned back around, he saw her naked, perfect breasts. “Oh,” he said.

“Now it’s your turn,” she said and began loosening his bowtie. After discarding the bowtie, her hands went down the front of his shirt, unbuttoning it. She slipped off his shirt and jacket before bending down to unzip his pants while he stood there as stoic as a Buckingham palace guard. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” he said, standing before her naked for the first time. She took his hand and then eased him onto the bed.

“I’ll take care of everything,” she whispered into his ear.

As with the concert, he didn’t loosen up right away. The first time he heard her moan woke something within him. Not the primal rage he’d felt with Conte-as-Alicia. He felt a joy unlike anything he’d ever known before. This was the fulfillment of a desire he’d held ever since discovering Sarah on the beach. Everything he’d longed for and hoped for had come to pass. Here was Sarah, with him, loving him. There could be no greater feeling.

After the first time, she lay next to him with her body pressed against his. “Max, will you stay the night?”

“Your parents—”

“They won’t mind. They love you. And so do I. Stay with me. Please?”

“Of course I will. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

They made love a second time before Sarah fell asleep in his arms. He watched the same peaceful look on her face as the first time he had put her to bed in her childhood house. “Everything is all right. I’m here now.” At dawn he untangled himself from her body to use the bathroom. He took a last look at her lying there, so beautiful and angelic in the morning light coming in through the curtains.

When he opened the door, something began yanking him through the bathroom and down the stairs. He called for Sarah, but she couldn’t hear him. He was dragged through the door and into the night.

Only when he heard Lindsey’s voice did he realize someone was dragging him away from his perch beneath Sarah’s window at the hospital. “No!” he shouted. “You can’t take me away from her! You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Max, I’m sorry, but you’ve left me no choice,” Lindsey said. “We have to take you back.”

“What? Where?”

“Gull Island Psych. I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”

“You don’t understand. She needs me! You’re going to kill her, don’t you see?”

“Max, please, calm down or I’ll have to sedate you,” Lindsey said. He heard a tremor in her voice as if she were about to cry. He was hauled up a ramp and roughly shoved into a seat before being strapped in.

“Hello again, Max,” Dr. Lee said. “Looks like we have some more work to do.”

Max fought against his restraints, screaming, “Lindsey, please, help me. You can’t take me away from her. Sarah needs me. Don’t do this!”

He caught a whiff of Lindsey’s perfume before feeling a sting in his left arm. “Max, I’m sorry about all of this. Don’t worry, it’s just temporary,” she said before he passed out.

Chapter 26

2007-06-14T13:02:00.004-07:00

Chapter 26

Lindsey woke to the sound of the telephone ringing. She assumed one of her brothers was calling with a relationship problem, not remembering the time difference between Chicago and Gull Island. Instead, she heard Pastor Robbins say, “I’m sorry to wake you, Lindsey, but I’m worried about Max.”

“Did something happen?”

“It’s almost time for the early service and he hasn’t shown up yet. I’m not sure what to do.”

“I’ll see if I can track him down. In the meantime, maybe you could use one of those tapes you made for him.”

“Or we might have to go a capella this morning.”

“Right.” It was too early for her to banter with the pastor. She hung up the phone and then dialed Midway House. After Mrs. Garnett screeched a hello, Lindsey said, “I’m looking for Max. Did he oversleep this morning?”

“I’ll check his room!” While Lindsey waited, she took the phone into the kitchen as she made a pot of coffee.

She’d stayed up until three looking for articles that might help with Max’s case. This Sarah he’d talked about must be someone imaginary, created by his mind for a reason Lindsey had yet to understand. Was “Sarah” a way to placate Lindsey so Max could duck his responsibilities of reintegrating into society while appearing to make progress?

Mrs. Garnett came back on the line, startling Lindsey. “He’s not in his room! His bed doesn’t look slept in! No one has seen him in at least two days!”

“Two days?”

“Should I call the police?”

“No, I’ll handle it. Thank you.” She hung up on Mrs. Garnett and then ran into the bedroom to change out of her nightgown. How could he have disappeared for two days without anyone noticing?

She thought back to their last session. Max had come in dirty and smelling like fertilizer. When she asked him if anything was wrong, he said, “I’m sorry. I tripped outside.”

He had lied to her again. After pulling on a shirt and pants, she went out to the table where all her notes on Max were spread out. When she found him, she would have no choice but to recommend he be taken back to Gull Island Psychiatric. She sighed at the thought of Max going back there, under the care of that ass Dr. Lee. Maybe she could still find a way to get through to him, but she needed to find him first.

She didn’t have any idea where Max would go to hide. With no friends or family on the island, there was no one to shelter him. Holy Redeemer didn’t pay much in the way of salary, making it hard for him to rent a motel room for very long. And with his knowledge about the island twenty years out of date, he would have a hard time finding a place to hide.

Then she thought about all the exploring he’d done under her supervision, which at the time she’d attributed to a curiosity about everything he’d missed. What if all their trips around the island had been a cover so he could mastermind this escape? She didn’t think Max capable of such deception, but maybe that was the greatest deception of all.

She supposed by now he could have already left Gull Island. His blindness gave her an advantage, though, since it left him with limited means of escape. She dashed into the living room for the telephone book and looked up the Islander Taxi Company. “Oh yeah, I remember Max. All our drivers love him. Doesn’t say much, but he’s a good tipper,” the dispatcher said.

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Not for a couple weeks.”

“Where did he have you take him?”

“You a cop or something?”

“I’m sort of like his parole officer. He’s missing and I need to find him. So, where did you take him?”

“Let me check my records. I’ll call you back.” Lindsey looked over a map of the island while she waited for the dispatcher. At least she could rule out the cab company as a means of escape. He could still have taken a bus to the ferries going to Seattle. She found the numbers for the three ferry companies and called each one. None of them remembered a blind man wanting passage.

Chances were good that Max was still on the island, unless he hitchhiked or bought passage on a fishing boat. In which case, she should call the police to get an APB out for him. As soon as she did so, all hope of dealing with this quietly went out the window. She might even lose her license when the board found out she’d misplaced a patient.

The phone rang again and the cab dispatcher said, “I got the addresses you wanted.” She dictated a string of addresses, most of them in Fishtown, which Lindsey wrote down. She thanked the dispatcher and then ran out to her Explorer.

She stopped at the first address, a house with ‘Winchell’ on the mailbox next to a burnt-out shell surrounded by yellow tape. Lindsey went up the front steps of the Winchell house and knocked on the door. A woman about Lindsey’s age and even heavier answered the door, clad in only a black bra and panties. “Who are you?” the woman said.

“I’m Lindsey Perry. I’m looking for a man named Max Caldwell.” She held up a picture of Max taken from his files. “Have you seen him?”

“I haven’t seen anyone like him. I wish I had. He’s cute.” The woman coughed up a wad of phlegm at Lindsey’s feet. “Let me check with Ma. Is this guy your husband or something?”

“No, he’s a friend.”

The woman shouted for her mother and then leaned against the doorway to scratch herself like a cat. “Is your name Sarah?” Lindsey asked.

“No.”

“Sorry, my mistake.” At least he didn’t come here to fuck this Winchell woman, unless she was lying. For all she knew, Max was hiding upstairs, waiting for the woman to come back and remove the bra and panties.

“Cindy, can’t you put some clothes on?” an older woman’s voice said. Cindy spit another ball of phlegm before waddling into the living room. The old woman who came to the door squinted through bifocals for a moment before saying, “Oh, hello, I’m sorry about my daughter. Are you here to sell something? Why just yesterday I had this nice black woman at my door trying to sell me magazines. I told her I don’t have any use for more magazines. I got enough already. Before long they’re going to take over the house.”

“Actually, I’m just looking for this man.”

“I remember him. Such a nice boy. I think he and Cindy would get along like peas and carrots.”

“Ma, quit trying to fix me up with every man who walks down the sidewalk!” Cindy shouted from the living room.

“She’s a little shy,” Mrs. Winchell said.

“I noticed.” Mrs. Winchell gave no sign of picking up on the sarcasm. “What did you and Max talk about?”

“Let me think. Oh yes, he wanted to know about Sarah.”

“Sarah?”

“My neighbor. She lived next door until almost three months ago when her house burned down.”

“What happened to Sarah? Did she die?”

“No, I don’t think so, at least not that I know. I haven’t been to visit her in the hospital in a while, though. I can’t stand hospitals—”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Lindsey said. She raced back to the SUV and spun it around in a U-turn. Along the way back to the hospital, she tried not to think about why Max would claim to have a relationship with a woman in a coma. Scientists withheld making judgments until they had all the facts. Just this once, she needed to act like a scientist.

As soon as she burst through the front doors of the hospital, she asked the front desk if there was a patient named Sarah in a coma. The nurse gave her directions and Lindsey hurried down the corridor at the fastest, most dignified walk she could manage.

A set of doors opened and she saw a black woman look up from a fashion magazine. “Dr. Perry, can I help you?”

“You have a coma patient named Sarah Gladstone?”

“Yes, she’s in that room over there.”

“Has this man been to visit her?”

“Max? He’s come by almost every day. Spends hours just sitting with her, keeping her company. Do you know him?”

“He’s my patient. When was the last time he was here?”

“Not for a few days.” The nurse put down the magazine and rubbed her jaw as she thought. “The last time he started acting a little strange. I told him visiting hours were over, but he didn’t want to leave. I thought I would have to call security to take him out of there.”

“You haven’t seen him since then?”

“No. Is Max in trouble?”

“I’m afraid so. If you see him, let me know right away.” Lindsey took out a business card to give to the nurse. “Don’t tell anyone else, understand?”

“No, of course not.” As Lindsey started towards the door to Sarah’s room, the nurse said, “I hope he’s not in too much trouble. He’s such a nice guy.”

“I know.” Lindsey opened the door and gasped. Machines surrounded the woman lying in the bed and IV tubes dripped medication and nutrients into her system. The left side of Sarah’s face was a moonscape of angry red scar tissue. Her hair was cut so close Lindsey couldn’t see it until she leaned in for a better look. Then she collapsed into the chair next to the bed and put her head in her hands. She had no choice about what to do now.

Chapter 25

2007-06-14T13:02:00.003-07:00

Chapter 25

Sarah pulled up to the Gull Island Regency in a rented Cadillac. As much as she liked Max’s car, she didn’t want to embarrass him by asking to drive. He was a nice guy, but he drove like an old woman.

She gave the keys to the valet before going inside the lobby. She searched the couches and arm chairs in the lobby, but saw no one who looked like Max. Maybe he wanted to meet her in the bar. She hoped not. Being around so many liquor bottles would put a quick end to her vow of sobriety.

She’d made the vow last night while trying to sleep. She kept seeing the SUV going over the guardrail and then exploding. By all rights she should have died then, but somehow Max had found her. If Max hadn’t been there to get her out of the car she would have died.

She would no longer be a slave to alcohol. This morning she went into work and emptied the bottle in her desk drawer into the bathroom sink, watching it swirl down the drain with the sadness of a funeral. The moment strengthened her resolve to make drinking no longer a part of her life.

Before she could make the decision to check for him in the bar, she saw Max appear from around a corner. Like his driving, his gait was slow and cautious, as if worried he would run into something. She waved to him and saw his sheepish, little-boy smile appear.

The closer Max came, the more she had to admit he was not her usual type. He was so tall and skinny that he appeared awkward as he shuffled across the lobby. His face had those ears sticking out, a cowlick above the part on the right side, and a nose a couple sizes too big.

Max was not the type she would take home from a bar. She doubted he had even been in a bar. At the same time, for a concert pianist, he didn’t have the snooty demeanor of the rich people she’d known from growing up in North Carolina. He still maintained the modesty of a regular person.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Did you have to wait long?”

“No, I just got here.”

“Oh.” He fumbled with the knot on his maroon-and-gray-striped tie. “I made a reservation at Dorsia. The concierge says it’s the best place in town.”

She knew of Dorsia, but had never gone there on any dates. It was even snobbier than the country club. Max would want to order a bottle of wine and then she would have to find a polite way of saying she didn’t want any alcohol. The entire date she would feel awkward, as if Mom were about to drag her back into the bathroom for a spanking. Max, like Sam Melville before him, would never call back and simply disappear from her life.

“I appreciate that, but I have an idea for something a little more…intimate.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Come on, we’ll take my car.” He took her arm as if escorting royalty and walked her out of the lobby. While the valet brought the Cadillac around, Max kept fidgeting with his tie as though about to say something, but no words came out.

Sarah felt sweat forming on her forehead as the silence continued. Was he unhappy about her asking not to go to Dorsia? Or maybe he didn’t like what she was wearing. After a lot of deliberation with Alicia, she’d gone with a turquoise summer dress that went to the knees. They’d hoped the dress would give her a mature, yet youthful appearance. Maybe he thought she just looked old. Why didn’t he say anything?

“Is that your car?” he asked when the valet stopped the Cadillac in front of them.

“I rented it until I can find something else.”

“It’s nice.” Like a gentleman, he opened the driver’s door for her and closed it after she got in. After he fastened his seatbelt on the passenger’s side, she accelerated away from the hotel. “So where are we going?”

She needed to find an answer to that question herself. In the lobby she’d only said she had a better idea to keep them from going to the restaurant, hoping something would strike her later. “Well,” she began. “I was thinking of…a picnic.”

“Really? It looks like rain.”

She saw the gray clouds through the windshield and nodded. “An indoor picnic. I know a great place. There won’t be anyone else around. Any other people, anyway.”

She spotted a Kentucky Fried Chicken and pulled into the drive-thru as much to turn around in the direction of the aquarium as to buy food for her makeshift picnic. “Do you have anything against chicken? You’re not allergic or a vegetarian, are you?” she asked.

“No, I like chicken. My mother used to make her own fried chicken and biscuits.”

“My mom was a lousy cook. We ate most of our meals out.” Max nodded before a burst of static came from the drive-thru speaker. After repeating her order three times, Sarah finally pulled around. She reached for her purse, but Max handed her a twenty-dollar bill. “It’s the least I can do,” he said before she could decline.

“Max, I owe you so much already—” She stopped when she saw the hangdog look on his face. “All right, but next time I’ll pay.” She took the money and handed it to the cashier. They waited in silence, Max sitting there with a look of intense concentration, as if straining to hear something. Sarah tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t come up with anything. She’d never had this problem on a date before.

After the food came, she drove to the aquarium, letting them into the darkened building. She waved to the security guard as they headed towards the tanks. “Max and I are having a late meeting.” The guard nodded to her in understanding.

“This place is beautiful,” Max said as they passed the tropical fish tanks. She paused to describe the various species to him and how the aquarium had obtained them. “You must really like fish.”

“They’re beautiful, don’t you think? So majestic the way they glide through the water.” When he only nodded, she blushed. “I know it seems silly to spend your life looking after creatures most people would rather eat with tartar sauce.”

“No, I don’t think it’s silly. At least no sillier than playing the piano for people who don’t know Tchaicovsky from Tolstoy.”

She laughed and squeezed his arm. “I guess we have something in common then—the silliness of our professions.”

“That’s more than most people.” His own laugh sounded tentative at first, but then became more robust. They laughed until Sarah stopped in front of Koo’s tank, where she had spent so much time.

“This is a good place, I think. I have to get one thing. I’ll be right back.” She kicked off her high-heels before scampering down the hallway to the supply closet. She couldn’t find anything resembling a blanket, but did find a red-and-white-striped tent used during the annual Street Fair as an information booth. It would have to do for now.

She spread out the tent over the floor in front of Koo’s tank, and then began laying out the food. “I know it’s not much, but at least we won’t have to leave a tip.”

“No, I like it,” Max said. He sat down next to her on the tent. “It’s so peaceful.”

“I come here sometimes when I need to get away from all the stress in my life. Watching Koo swim is so soothing.” She took a drumstick from the bucket to hide her blushing again for sounding so foolish. At any moment she expected Max to either break out laughing or run away.

“It is a beautiful fish.”

“She’s a mammal,” Sarah corrected. “Just like us.”

“Oh.” Now it was Max’s turn to blush. She hoped she hadn’t embarrassed him too much; the correction came to her as a reflex, something she couldn’t control.

“A lot of people make that mistake. It’s a really common misconception.” She patted his arm in what she hoped was a friendly way, but the redness in his cheeks increased. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s my fault. I haven’t been on many dates.”

“Really?”

“I don’t have time. And most of the women in the audience are a lot older. Concert pianists aren’t like rock stars.”

“You don’t have a line of groupies wanting to get backstage after every concert?”

“No, usually just a few old women with their husbands or kids. Half of them don’t remember who I am.”

“I guess I don’t need to get jealous when you’re on the road, then, do I?” They both laughed, the laughter echoing through the empty halls of the aquarium. She and Max talked for hours, until the remains of the picnic had turned cold. She told him about growing up in North Carolina and then going to Miami to study marine biology, careful not to mention her sexual exploits. She told him about her first job in Orlando, where she worked with a killer whale calf that had been brought in. “Koo was helpless back then. I spent a week living by her tank to make sure she pulled through. It probably sounds strange, but after a while I came to love her like my own child.”

“I don’t think it’s strange.”

Sarah took Max’s hand to help him up. “Come on,” she said. “I want to show you something.”

She used her keys to open a set of doors next to Koo’s tank with a staircase leading up to the top of the tank. She opened another door at the top of the stairs to lead him onto a platform overlooking the tank. “Where are we?” Max asked.

“This is where we feed her.” She led Max over to the edge of the tank, where they could look down and see the killer whale as she navigated the habitat. Sarah found one of the feeding buckets and dangled it into the tank. “Watch this.”

She slapped the water with the bucket until Koo began to surface, blowing mist onto them. “Don’t be scared,” Sarah said.

When Koo stuck her nose out of the water, Sarah reached out to touch her and motioned for Max to do the same. Max hesitated a moment before laying his hand next to Sarah’s against Koo’s rubbery flesh. “Wow,” he said. Sarah gave Koo a pat before the whale dove beneath the water again. “That was amazing.”

When she straighted, Sarah found herself only inches from Max’s face. They stared at each other a moment before she leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. At first he tried to pull away, but then returned the kiss. With another guy she would begin undressing him or asking him back somewhere to fuck, but she didn’t want to do that with Max. She didn’t want to chance ruining the moment with the complexities of sex. This, she thought, must be love.

Chapter 24

2007-06-14T13:02:00.001-07:00

Chapter 24

Max sat on the balcony of the Gull Island Regency’s penthouse with a pad of paper. He had so many things to do before Sarah came over, a whole life to invent. He couldn’t afford to leave anything up to chance; any inconsistencies could destroy his relationship with Sarah.

The first major question facing him concerned his parents. Should they still be alive? At some point if their relationship progressed enough, she would want to know about his parents, possibly even meet them. If they were alive, where would they live? He’d already told her he was from Gull Island, so wouldn’t it make sense if they still lived here? Or perhaps they’d moved somewhere after he became a famous pianist.

The possibilities began to unravel before him. He had a chance to do for himself what he’d already done for Sarah. He could bring his parents back from the dead and create an alternate reality where he’d never gone blind and they’d never died. An alternate reality where he, Sarah, and their parents could all live happily.

Mom would have pictures hanging at the local art museum—a whole wing!—while he and Dad would play a series of concerts at Wainwright Hall. Sarah would sit in the audience with her parents and Mom to watch the performance. What piece should they start with? Dad loved Beethoven, so they should start with something of his. “Fur Elise” maybe, a familiar tune that would provide a good warm-up for the rest of the concert. Why not feature Beethoven for the entire concert? He and Dad could perform all their favorite Beethoven piano sonatas.

He sketched all the pertinent details of his new life in the notebook. Before Sarah came over, he would have to memorize every date and place. Nothing to give her the impression he was being anything less than truthful, though none of this was actually a lie. Or perhaps it was all a lie, depending on how one looked at the situation.

“Max? Max, it’s eight-thirty. Visiting hours are over,” Henrietta said, her voice a distant nuisance. He did not move from the balcony. “Come on, Max, it’s time to go.”

He finally pulled himself out of Sarah’s mind and back into his world of darkness. “I don’t want to go,” he said.

“I’m sorry, but those are the rules. You can’t stay here all night.” She put a hand on his shoulder, but he batted it away. He didn’t want to leave, not now. There was so much to do, so much he needed to create before the date with Sarah. They couldn’t stop him now just for a stupid rule!

“I can’t leave her.”

“Max, be reasonable. She’ll still be here in the morning.”

“I don’t care. I can’t leave.”

“Don’t make me call for security. Please, Max, go home.”

He considered trying to overpower Henrietta, but even if he forced her from the room, he couldn’t barricade himself in here forever. They would break in and arrest him eventually. Then he would go back to the institution, never seeing Sarah again. Better to go quietly now. He stood up and made his way to the door. “I’m sorry,” he said, more to Sarah than Henrietta.

“I understand, Max. You can see her again first thing in the morning, I promise.”

“I know.” After he left Sarah’s room, he felt his way along the corridor. When he found a door handle, he slipped into a room that smelled like urine.

“Nurse, is that you? I need a new bedpan,” an old woman’s voice said. “I’m sorry I made such a mess. I never—”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I have the wrong room. I’ll get the nurse for you,” Max said and backed out of the room.

“Max, what are you doing?” Henrietta asked.

“I took a wrong turn.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I’m fine. Someone in there needs a new bedpan.”

“Oh, Mrs. Williams. That woman makes more messes than my two-year-old niece. I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Max.”

Max waited for Henrietta to enter Mrs. Williams’s room before he went back towards Sarah’s room. He continued down the corridor to another door handle. The door was locked. Damn. Defeated, he left the hospital, but stopped outside the doors.

Gull Island Hospital was only one story, which meant every window was on the ground floor. He began to feel his way along the side of the building, searching for the pull of Sarah’s mind. As long as the walls weren’t too thick, he should be able to reach her from outside.

A hedge ran along the hospital walls, making it easy for him to go unnoticed. The gravel spread between the walls and hedge bit into the skin of his hands and tore up the legs of his trousers, but he ignored the pain. He measured the distance in his mind so he could find his way back when he found the spot. A mind called out to him and when he allowed himself to be drawn in, he found himself on the balcony of the Gull Island Regency again. He had found Sarah!

He reviewed all the details in his notebook one more time. Then he went into the bedroom to lay down on the bed. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the changes to make. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in his childhood bedroom.

He heard a knock on the door followed by his mother’s voice. “Max, honey, what do you want for lunch?”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever you’re having is fine.” He rolled out of bed and rushed to the door. Mom stood in the doorway, looking just as he remembered when she was painting in her studio. Before she could say anything, he pulled her into a hug. “I love you.”

“Oh, Max, I love you too.”

“I’m so glad to be back.”

“I know.” He pulled away, wiping the tears from his eyes and feeling silly at the sudden outpouring of emotion. She wasn’t even real, just an approximation of his mother. It didn’t matter. “Come on, your father is waiting.”

The rest of the house looked different than he remembered. The rooms were all bigger, with more expensive furnishings. Mom led him downstairs—they had two floors now—to Dad’s music room, where Dad sat at a Steinway grand piano. “There’s my virtuoso,” Dad said. “I thought you were going to sleep all day.”

“I wouldn’t miss practice.”

“I hope not. We don’t have much time to get everything ready for the recital. Are you still sure you want to play with your old dad? I’m not sure I can keep up with you.”

“Of course you can. You’re the one who taught me.”

“Well then, let’s get to work.” Dad patted the spot next to him on the piano’s bench. Max sat down, remembering the last piece they’d played before Dad died. His fingers moved of their own accord, tapping out the opening to Beethoven’s “Moonlight” sonata. Dad joined in and soon they had established the rhythm.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Mom said.

Max and Dad continued playing as though twenty years had not passed. Dad stopped after the piece’s allegretto, saying, “Let’s go see what your mother made for lunch.”

“Oh, sure.” He wanted to stay and keep playing with his father, but he had plenty of time now. He put an arm around Dad’s shoulders and started towards the kitchen. Along the way, he saw Mom’s studio, sunlight pouring through the skylight onto a half-painted canvas. He recognized himself sitting at a piano, but the exact location surrounding him was not painted yet. He let his father go on ahead while he went into the studio for a better look at Mom’s painting.

She had captured a look of passion and contentment on his face as he played. Is that what he looked like during a performance? “Max, are you all right?” Mom asked. “Oh, I was hoping to surprise you with that.”

“I am surprised. It’s beautiful.”

“You think so? I think it’s a little too dark.”

“No, it’s perfect.” He hugged Mom again, this time not feeling embarrassed at all.

Chapter 23

2007-06-14T13:01:00.003-07:00

Chapter 23

Max’s watch told him it was eight o’clock at the precise moment he walked through the hospital doors. He needed to find out more about her. Only then could he make her happy.

All night he sat up listening to Beethoven’s “Emperor” concerto while contemplating how he could know so little about Sarah after all this time. He had seen her at every stage from newborn to adult, but he still knew nothing about her heart. All the pain he’d witnessed in her dreams did little to tell him about her hopes and ambitions.

“You’re a little earlier than usual,” Henrietta said as Max reached the nurse’s station.

“I just want to see her. Is it all right?”

“Sure, Dr. Teague won’t be in until later. He’s got to get in eighteen holes before rounds.” Henrietta let him in and Max took his usual position at Sarah’s side. When he heard the door close, he allowed her to pull him inside.

He sensed trouble right away. He floated through a dark sky with fog rolling in from the ocean. Where was she?

He started with the aquarium, but she wasn’t there, nor was her car in the parking lot. He tried her house next, finding her bed still made. Her friend Alicia was still sleeping; he didn’t find Sarah there either.

He began to move faster until he zipped around the island at the speed of light, searching from one end to the other for her. Where was she? Grim scenarios appeared in his mind. Sarah being swept away by the waves like her first dream. Sarah trapped in a burning building, screaming for help. He had to find her.

Then, along Coastal Road, he saw her black Explorer. Its headlights were turned off as the SUV wandered from one side of the road to the other. Ahead of the car, the road bent in a dangerous curve as it wound towards Finley Bluff. Max remembered hearing a story in third grade about a carload of teenagers going off the curb after the prom. He couldn’t let the same happen to Sarah.

He dropped into the car and found Sarah behind the wheel, drinking a bottle of whiskey while singing out-of-tune with the stereo. The song was “The Long and Winding Road,” the same song his mother had often hummed while painting. She had tears in her eyes as she sang; the sadness in her voice transfixed him in the passenger’s seat. He heard nothing but her singing as the car smashed through the guardrail and began to plunge towards the rocky shore below.

“Wheeee!” Sarah shouted as though this were some kind of roller coaster ride. She threw the bottle over her shoulder and began to laugh as the car tumbled through the air.

Too late to prevent the accident, Max jumped from the vehicle and surveyed the ground below. He replaced the rocks with a layer of mud to cushion the Explorer’s fall. At the last moment before the SUV struck the ground, he tipped it to land on its tires, hoping they would absorb most of the blow.

The Explorer bounced several inches into the air before coming down hard in the mud. Smoke rose from the wrecked SUV. Max hurried back to the Explorer to find the rear of the vehicle in flames. Sarah fumbled with her seatbelt, blood gushing from a cut on her forehead. “Help! I can’t get out.”

He yanked the driver’s door open, tore apart the seatbelt, and scooped her up. “Who are you?” she asked.

“You can see me?”

“Of course I can. Who are you?” Her voice sounded sleepy, as if she had just woken from a dream.

“My name is Max. I’m here to help.”

“Max? I used to have a dog named Max.” He clutched her in his arms and floated up to the road. Once he’d set her down on the pavement, he placed his hands on her face to heal the gash on her forehead until it was only a scratch.

After he finished, he tried to move away from her, but she grabbed his arm. “I have a boo-boo!” she said in a falsetto voice. She stared at the blood on her hands and laughed.

“You’re going to be all right, Sarah.”

“You know my name?”

“I know a lot about you,” he blurted out, and then regretted it.

Before they could say anything else, the Explorer on the beach exploded. Sarah crawled over to the edge of the road to stare down at the flaming wreck of her SUV. “Oh my God,” she said. “You saved my life.”

“It wasn’t anything.”

“How did you know?”

“I saw you go off the road.”

“How’d you get me up here so fast?”

Max didn’t know what to say in response to that question. “We should get you to a hospital,” he said instead.

“I’m all right,” she said. Then she stood up, took a few wobbly steps, and sank to her knees on the ground. “Maybe not. Do you have any aspirin?”

He produced a vial. Sarah downed three of the aspirin and then put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t feel so good.”

“I think we’d better go. My car’s right over there.” He created a silver BMW 525xi Lindsey had described to him from a catalog. The sedan’s blue headlights cast a glow like moonlight over the scene. In the light, Sarah’s face looked as beautiful as the first time he’d seen her, more so now that she was smiling at him. For a moment he forgot about the accident, forgot they were living in a dream world, and focused only on that smile meant for him. “I guess we’d better go.”

“I think you should drive. I’m still a little tipsy.” She staggered towards the car until he took her elbow and guided her into the passenger’s seat. “This is a nice car.”

“Thanks,” he said. He strapped her in and then hurried around the front of the car to take the wheel. Since he’d never driven a car before, he thought back to his childhood and how Mom and Dad had driven. He tapped the long pedal on the right, but nothing happened. Then he tried the one next to it with a similar result.

“Have you driven before?” Sarah asked.

“Not in a long time.”

“You have to shift into drive first. Push the button on the stick and pull it back to the ‘D’ there.” Max did as she instructed and the car rolled forward. “Now hit the accelerator.” When he tried the pedal on the left, it stopped the car’s forward progress. By process of elimination, he released the pedal and tapped the other one. The engine revved and the car began to move up the hill. “Are you getting it now?” she asked.

“I think so.”

“Good. I need to pass out.” Her head lolled onto her right shoulder and he worried for a moment she was dead until he saw her chest still rising and falling as she breathed.

He took almost an hour to get to the hospital. When he pulled into the parking lot, Sarah woke up and smiled at him. “Now push that lever over to the ‘P’ and we can get out.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry it took so long.”

“No rush. Gave me a chance to catch up on some sleep.”

“Oh.” He helped her from the car and held her elbow all the way through the front doors of the emergency room. A nurse rushed forward to examine Sarah’s injuries.

“What happened?” the nurse asked in Henrietta’s voice.

“She had a little accident,” Max said.

“We’ll have to have a doctor look at those. Are you her husband?”

“No, I’m—”

“He’s my guardian angel.” Sarah winked at him before the nurse led her away to examine the wounds. Max went to the waiting room and sat in one of the chairs. He should go now. If he left now, she might attribute his presence to the head injury and could go on with her life as usual.

His legs wouldn’t move. He thought of her standing in the predawn light against the water, smiling at him as her savior. Her guardian angel. This was his chance to get to know her in a way he’d never thought possible. He could be with her every moment to make sure she was happy. Never again would she have to feel despondent or frightened or sad.

She returned a half hour later with Band-Aids over the cuts on her face and a bottle of pills. “I just have to keep them clean and take these antibiotics,” she explained.

“Make sure you use up the entire bottle,” Dr. Lee said.

“I will. Thanks, doctor.”

“It was good to see you again, Sarah. I wish it had been under better circumstances.” Dr. Lee gave a hollow laugh before sauntering off to help someone else.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” Max said.

“Thanks.” They looked at each other for a moment before she said, “I hope it’s not too much trouble, but I could use a ride home.”

“Of course, I’d be glad to give you a lift.” He took her elbow again, savoring her closeness: the smoothness of her skin when he held her arm, the silkiness of her hair when it tickled his cheek, and the warmth of her body as she leaned against him. Never had he felt such happiness just being next to someone.

The drive to her house went much smoother now that he’d learned the rudimentary concepts of driving. “So where are you from, Max?”

“Here. I grew up on the island.”

“Really? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“I’ve been away for a few years. I just moved back.”

“So what are you, a doctor or lawyer? Somebody important to have a car like this.”

“I’m a—” He scrambled to think of something. She would never believe a church pianist could afford a BMW that listed at a base price of $45,000. “I’m a concert pianist.”

“Wow, so have you played Carnegie Hall and all that?”

“I’ve been all over the world. New York, London, Paris, Vienna. I’m planning a tour of South America next.” He waited for her reaction, hoping he hadn’t overplayed his hand by trying to impress her.

“So why’d you come back here?”

“This is my home,” he said.

When she reached over to touch his right arm, his entire body stiffened. “I didn’t mean anything by it. This just seems a little out of the way.”

“I like the peace and quiet.”

“So do I. Where do you live?”

“I’m moving into Gullcrest Heights. I’ve been staying in a hotel until the papers are finalized.”

“Really? I live in Gullcrest Heights too. Maybe we’ll be neighbors. Then we could see each other all the time.”

“I hope so.” He regretted saying that, not wanting to sound desperate, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s a pretty nice neighborhood. You have a really great view of the water from the bluff and some wonderful sunsets, at least that’s what my mother says. I’m usually not home by then. Too busy with work.”

“That’s too bad.” They reached her driveway and she got out of the car under her own power, meeting him at the tip of the BMW’s nose. Before he could say anything, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you for everything. I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t come along to save me.” He couldn’t move or speak, too shocked from the sudden kiss to do anything. “Would you mind if I took you out to dinner sometime? It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done.”

“Sure.”

“How about tomorrow night I meet you at your hotel? Let’s say at eight o’clock? Do you have a cell phone or should I call the hotel?”

“You can call the hotel, I guess.” Everything was going so fast now; his mind was still trying to process the feel of her lips against his cheek. No woman since his mother had ever kissed him.

“I’ll have to borrow Mom’s car, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll see you tomorrow, Max.” She kissed him again, this time on the other cheek before disappearing into the house. Long after she closed the door, he stood in the driveway, not believing what had happened. Then he got behind the wheel and trundled away; he had a lot of preparations to make for his new life in Sarah’s world.

Chapter 22

2007-06-14T13:01:00.001-07:00

Chapter 22

The files lay spread out on the dining room table along with two pints of Haagen-Daaz and three bottles of Coke. Lindsey had already gone through the notes of Max’s sessions four times, but she reviewed them again anyway. Somewhere amongst all these papers must be the key to Max’s recovery.

He was making slow progress. Pastor Robbins had nothing but rave reviews for Max’s ability to learn the hymns; she knew first-hand his playing was technically flawless. He even stayed for a spaghetti dinner the other night, leaving in one of the single women’s company. Midway House remained a sore spot. Mrs. Garnett reported Max’s behavior continued to be erratic. Some nights he acted friendly to the other patients, helping with dinner and joining in conversations. Other nights he went up to his room upon getting home and locked the door until disappearing early in the morning.

She swallowed another spoonful of ice cream as she considered what to do about Max. Just like with Midway House, sometimes they seemed to be making progress and other times they went back to square one. He often seemed like two different people. One day he would come in, dressed in a crisp shirt and pants, with his hair wetted and combed like a little boy for Sunday school to bombard her endlessly with questions while other days he stumbled in looking and smelling like a beggar, saying no more than two or three words at a time. She often wondered if she should have him examined for schizophrenia.

At Northwestern, Professor Lombardo had always told them, “When in doubt, start back at the beginning.” For Max, the beginning was the death of his parents. So far she had been unable to coerce anything out of him on the subject. In his sessions with Dr. Heathcoate, Max said his parents died in a fire, though the coroner ruled heart failure as the cause of death in both cases. If she was going to help him, she had to make him understand their deaths were not his fault. What chance did she have when she couldn’t convince herself that Dad’s accident wasn’t her fault?

The phone rang in the kitchen. She picked up the receiver and heard Chad’s voice on the other end. “Hey Sis, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. Doing a little work at home.”

“Oh. Should I call back?”

“No, of course not. What’s the problem?” She took the cordless phone out to the balcony to get a little fresh air while listening to Chad’s latest girl problems. She focused on the boats in the harbor as he described his latest conquest, some bimbo who read traffic reports in the morning.

“I really like Beth, and she’s really great in—” His voice trailed off with embarrassment.

“I’m sure she’s a great lay. So what’s the problem?”

“Well, I still like Tiffany.”

“Which one is she?”

“She works at a jewelry store on Michigan Avenue. I told you about her, didn’t I?”

“Probably. So you want Beth but you don’t want to lose Tiffany, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yeah, pretty much. What should I do?”

She took a deep breath and considered switching her phone number. She didn’t have time for this shit now. “I think you need to ask yourself what’s more important. Do you feel there’s a deeper connection with Tiffany?”

“I suppose so. We talk for hours about all sorts of things. But in bed, she’s like, you know, boring.”

“Jesus, Chad.”

“I’m sorry, Sis. I don’t know anyone else to talk to about this. What should I do?”

“You’re only fucking Beth because you’re afraid to deal with Tiffany’s bedroom issues. Beth is not the answer to your problems. You need to talk with Tiffany. If you want, I can E-mail you a list of books you two might want to read.”

“So what about Beth?”

“Do what you men always do. Don’t return any of her phone calls and avoid her. If she corners you, give her some line about needing space.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“I think it’s a hundred twenty-seven by my count.” After she turned off the phone, Lindsey resisted the urge to smash the receiver before it rang again. Just once couldn’t they deal with their own problems? She had more important work to do.

“Wait a minute—” She let out a little whoop she hoped wouldn’t wake up Mrs. Donnelly downstairs. Why hadn’t she thought of this earlier?

She went inside to look through her notes again. Sarah, that was the girlfriend’s name. If she could find this woman, maybe they could work together to convince Max to open up about his parents. He wouldn’t walk out on Sarah if he really cared about her. If he did, then she doubted there was any hope for him at all. After scooping out the melted remains of the ice cream, she organized her plan for their next session.

When she woke up the next morning, she found papers stuck to her cheek by chocolate ice cream. She looked through her notebook of questions and then checked her watch. Oh shit, no time for a shower. She ripped off the paper and dabbed at her face with a washcloth. As long as she didn’t have Max touch her face again, it wouldn’t matter how awful she looked.

He was already sitting in his chair by the time she arrived. “Sorry,” she said, wheezing from the run through the parking lot. “Running a little late.”

“It’s all right,” he said. From his tone, she knew it would be the kind of session when she would have to pull each syllable from him with a pair of tweezers.

“Well, let’s get down to business. How are things going with you and Sarah? Are you still seeing each other?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“It’s fine.”

“That’s not a very convincing answer. Is there something wrong? Tell me, Max, that’s what I’m here for.”

“I thought you were here to help me fit in with society.”

“Well, I think Sarah fits that description. She’s a part of society, isn’t she?”

“I suppose.”

“You want to fit in with her, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Great. So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know what to do. I keep trying to make her happy, but everything I do seems to go wrong.”

“What have you done that made her unhappy?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Is it?”

“I want to satisfy her, but nothing seems to work. She always ends up even more miserable than before.”

“Satisfy her how? Are we talking about sex, Max?”

“No,” he said a little too quickly. As his cheeks turned red, she was glad he couldn’t see her smile. He was just like her brothers when it came to discussing intercourse. They could brag about it in locker rooms with other guys, but with her the subject became awkward.

“It’s all right Max. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“It’s not that kind of problem. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Why not?”

“I just want to make her happy. How can I do that?”

His face and voice betrayed a desperation she hadn’t seen before in their sessions. Whoever Sarah was, she’d clearly put a spell on Max. In her notes, Lindsey scribbled the word “Love?” next to Sarah’s name. “Well, Max, like one of my professors told me, let’s start at the beginning. How much do you know about Sarah?”

He considered the question for a moment, the muscles in his face twitching through a variety of painful expressions. “Her parents and brother died. She works at the aquarium. She likes to watch the fish at night.”

“Is that all?” When Max said nothing, she added, “I think you need to go to Sarah and talk with her more about her interests. Find some common ground.”

“I don’t know, what if we don’t have any common ground?”

“You have to take that chance, Max. Any relationship involves risk. You might look like a fool or get your heart broken, but you have to try. Otherwise you’re guaranteed to get nowhere. Do you understand?”

“I suppose.”

“Good. Now, let’s talk about something else.” They spent another hour going over his progress at the church and Midway House. Lindsey doodled a heart around Sarah’s name on her pad as she listened to Max. He promised again to cooperate more with Mrs. Garnett, but she doubted he would follow through.

After he left, she picked up the telephone and asked the operator for the Gull Island Aquarium. Lindsey told the receptionist, “I’d like to speak to Sarah, please.”

“Last name?”

“I’m not really sure. Do you have more than one?”

“Just a moment, let me check.” A minute later, the receptionist said, “I’m sorry, there’s no one named Sarah here.”

“Are you sure?”

“I checked the registry. I could transfer you—”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” She hung up the phone and drew an X through the heart she’d drawn. Max was lying about Sarah. Now she needed to find out why.

Chapter 21

2007-06-14T13:00:00.001-07:00

Chapter 21

Sarah turned off the light in her office and for a moment sat in the darkness. Sam Melville had not bothered calling her for an explanation; when she called the hotel, she was told he’d already checked out.

She reached into the drawer for the bottle of bourbon. In the darkness, she missed the glass, spilling alcohol on a pile of papers she had yet to look through. “Shit!” She mopped up the spill with her jacket sleeve and then shook bourbon from the pages. She reached for the desk lamp and examined the pages; the ink had run in spots and no doubt tomorrow the paper would turn brown and crinkled, but they were still legible.

After laying out the papers across her desk to dry, she carefully poured the remainder of the bottle into the glass, resulting in only a tablespoon. She would have to stop by the liquor store on the corner at lunch since they were closed now and wouldn’t reopen until noon. Or she could head over to one of the twenty-four hour places in Fishtown.

She turned off the light again and left the office. Before leaving the aquarium, she checked every tank, whispering goodnight. At Koo’s habitat she paused and put her head against the glass to watch the whale swim gracefully through the water.

“Are you all right Ms. Gladstone?” the night watchman said.

She opened her eyes, wondering how long she’d been napping. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Maybe I should call a taxi for you.”

“No no, I’m all right. Just working late.”

“If you say so ma’am.” The watchman gave her one last concerned look before waddling away, whistling a tune Sarah couldn’t remember.

She straightened and tried to walk out of the aquarium with a sense of purpose. Once she settled into the Explorer’s leather seats, she put her head against the SUV’s steering wheel. Maybe she should lie down in the backseat for a little nap. No, she couldn’t blow off Alicia again. They hadn’t exercised together in a week and already Sarah felt her pants getting tight around the middle.

She tried to shake away the sleep and started the engine. She decided to pick up a coffee or Diet Coke at the shop in Fishtown along with the bourbon. She needed something with caffeine, although then she would have trouble getting to sleep. This thought made her laugh; she never used to worry about such things back in college. She was getting old.

On the way to the liquor store it began to rain. At first only scattered drops she didn’t even need the windshield wipers for, but the rain kept increasing until her wipers were on the highest setting and still she couldn’t see. “At least now I don’t have to worry about exercising.”

As the Explorer skidded down a hill, her stomach rose and her grip slackened on the wheel as though she were riding a roller coaster. She squinted through the darkness and rain to make out a landmark, but recognized nothing. Then she saw the sign for a party store. The SUV jumped a curb before coming to a stop in a gravel lot rapidly turning to mud.

Sarah dashed into the store with her jacket tied around her head like a kerchief. The woman behind the counter looked up from a book and asked, “Is it raining?” Sarah only nodded before heading to the back of the store.

She examined the racks of glass bottles filled with liquids of almost every color. After the hassle in getting here, she wanted something stronger than bourbon. She decided on a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and then snatched a bottle of scotch too. The woman at the counter had returned to her book, so Sarah unscrewed the cap from the bottle of Jack and took a belt. The alcohol burned through her system, steadying her nerves.

She twisted the cap back on, doubting the clerk would even notice. From the cooler she took a plastic bottle of Diet Coke and drank half. Then she went to the counter, where the clerk processed the order without looking up from her book. “Have a good night. Drive safe,” the woman said without enthusiasm. Sarah mumbled a response and took the brown bag outside, where the rain was beginning to lessen.

Before trying to start the car, she took another hit of whiskey followed by the rest of the Diet Coke. Then she turned the key, but nothing happened. She tried the key again; the engine wheezed and then died. “Oh shit.” She reached in her purse for her cell phone and the card for her insurance company. The phone’s display lit up for a moment to flash a warning that the battery needed recharged.

She threw the cell phone into her purse. Why did this have to happen now? She was wet and tired and in five hours she had to be back at work. “It’s not fair.”

When she heard a tap on her window, she screamed, expecting to find a gun barrel in her face. Instead, she found a handsome man in a denim jacket and white T-shirt smiling and motioning for her to roll down the window. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“My car won’t start,” she said. “I tried to use my phone, but the battery went dead.”

“They have a way of doing that. If you pop the hood, I can take a look.”

“Are you a mechanic?”

“Sort of. My wife’s car was always breaking down.”

“Oh, so you’re married?”

His smile faded into a look of pain. “I was. She died six months ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” The smile returned. “How about popping that hood for me?”

“Sure.” She fumbled around beneath the steering wheel until she found the lever to open the hood. While he examined the car, she examined her face in the mirror. She looked terrible, but did what she could to fix her wet hair.

The rain had stopped completely when she emerged from the SUV to see how her Good Samaritan was doing. “Have you found what’s wrong?” she asked. He looked up and then wiped his hands onto his shirt, turning it a dingy gray.

“When was the last time you took this to a mechanic for a tune-up or an oil change?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, it looks like you’ve got some serious problems. You’ll need someone with better tools to take a look. Probably have to call a tow truck in the morning.” After the hood slammed with finality, Sarah wondered what to do now. Maybe she could use the phone in the store to call Alicia or her parents. No, then she would have to explain why she was at a liquor store in Fishtown after midnight. “Do you need a ride?” the stranger asked as if on cue.

“Actually, I do.”

“My vehicle’s a little smaller than yours, but you’re welcome to hop on.” He motioned to a black and chrome motorcycle leaning on its kickstand at the curb. Oh my God, Sarah thought. A handsome stranger on a motorcycle, this was just like a romance novel.

“Thanks,” she said, unable to think of anything else. She stuffed the liquor store bag into her purse before locking the Explorer and following the stranger to the bike. “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“My name’s Brett,” he said.

“Sarah Gladstone.”

“Sarah? That was my wife’s name.” He pressed a helmet into her hands. “You even have the same size head.”

“What are the odds,” Sarah said, trying to make it sound like a joke to lighten the mood. Brett said nothing; he straddled the bike and motioned for her to sit behind.

“Put your arms around my waist and hold on.” She did as he asked and then he put up the kickstand. The motorcycle’s engine revved once before they took off.

Sarah hadn’t ridden a motorcycle in years. Dolby—she couldn’t remember if it was his first or last name—zipped her around the streets of Miami after last call. They were both dressed in only swimsuits, not even any helmets. Back then her hair went all the way down to her waist so she spent the entire ride trying in vain to keep it out of her face with one hand while holding onto Dolby with the other. At one point she thought they would crash when her hand strayed a little farther south than his waist. They made it to the beach, where Dolby left the bike in the sand before carrying her into the surf.

This time she could see the scenery whipping past as Brett’s motorcycle zoomed along the empty streets of Gull Island. She screamed at the freedom she hadn’t felt since those golden college days.

“Where do you live?” Brett asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“Let’s go to the beach,” she suggested.

“Now?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Right.” Instead of heading up to Finley Bluff, Brett turned back towards downtown. She caught a glimpse of the aquarium for just an instant before they rocketed past. “This may get a little bumpy,” he said. He turned onto the docks and they sped past lines of silent fishing boats. The sparkling water had a bluish tint in the moonlight.

She couldn’t believe she was riding on a motorcycle at three in the morning with a kind, handsome, available man after seeking out a liquor store in the pouring rain earlier to gulp down whiskey from the bottle. It didn’t seem possible for a night that had started so wrong to end so perfectly. She leaned against Brett, his warm body assuring her this was no dream.

They stopped at the parking lot overlooking the beach. The sky was beginning to turn gray as dawn approached; she took Brett’s hand to lead him down to the shore so they could watch the sunrise together. They walked down the concrete steps to the beach, but when they reached the sand, she pulled him into a run. She squealed an instant before collapsing onto the sand with him next to her.

“Thank you,” she said to him as they sat there in the spot where they’d fallen. “This is just what I needed.”

He put an arm around her and pulled her close. As the sun began to rise, they watched the fishing boats pull out into the water, sounding their horns in greeting. Seagulls floated above in lazy circles, searching for food in the sun-dappled water.

Sarah rested her head against Brett’s shoulder, rubbing her cheek against the rough denim of his jacket. The wind ruffled his long, dark hair and the sun fell across his face in such a way as to give him a glow. She couldn’t believe her luck to be discovered by such a wonderful man.

Then she kissed him on the cheek. He stiffened with surprise for a moment, before turning so their lips met. “I love you,” he whispered.

She reeled back as though slapped. “What? We just met.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You just remind me so much of her.”

“Who?”

“My wife.” He started to cry as she pulled away. “I’m so sorry. This just brings back so many memories. In the summer, we’d go up to our place in the Hamptons and watch the sunrise every morning, just like this. I guess I forgot—”

She didn’t stay to hear the rest of his story. She started running back through the sand and up the steps. What a creep! she said to herself. He only helped her because she reminded him of his dead wife. He didn’t care about her at all, only the Sarah he’d taken to the Hamptons.

She thought she heard him calling, but she wasn’t going to come back. After taking her purse from the handlebars of the motorcycle, she began walking back along the road towards the dock. There would be a phone there somewhere she could use.

When she heard the motorcycle’s engine approaching, she didn’t turn around. “Sarah, please, I’m sorry. Let me at least give you a ride back home.”

“Stay away from me!” she said and then swung her purse in his direction.

“Please, don’t do this. Don’t push me away.”

“I told you to stay away from me!” He winced as though she had struck him in the face with the purse before folding over the bike’s handlebars to cry some more. She stared at the pathetic, wimpy mess he was before continuing down the road.

The motorcycle was still in the same place as she neared the docks. She found a cluster of wooden pallets and collapsed behind them. From her purse she took out both bottles of liquor. While tears flowed down her face, she took a hit of the Jack. Why couldn’t she find anyone who was interested in her?

She sagged against the pallets while she emptied the bottle of whiskey. When she woke up later, the sun was directly overhead and both bottles were empty. Her head felt like a balloon tied to her shoulders by a thin string. Before wobbling off towards home, she threw the liquor bottles in the direction of the beach.

Chapter 20

2007-06-14T12:59:00.004-07:00

Chapter 20

After the service on Wednesday night, the church was holding a spaghetti dinner to raise money for a missionary effort in Indonesia. Max wanted to decline, but he knew Pastor Robbins would tell Lindsey, who would in turn bring it up at their next session and threaten to send him back to Gull Island Psych. Visiting hours at the hospital were almost over anyway, so there wasn’t much he could do for Sarah.

He still didn’t know quite where he’d gone wrong with Sam Melville. He’d given Sam money, power, and a substantial penis as Mr. Melville had suggested, but the date had turned into a disaster. Everything had started off so well at the aquarium, but something went wrong at the restaurant.

For the dinner, Pastor Robbins sat him with some of the younger women of the congregation. One was widowed, another divorced, another in college with a fiancée, and another unattached. The unattached woman was named Kelly and about Max’s age who lived above a meat market in Fishtown. He heard none of this from Kelly, but from Pastor Robbins and the others at the table while she went to use the bathroom. That Kelly’s mother was blind made everyone seem to think Max and Kelly were destined to be together. For his part, Max listened and nodded, stuffing his mouth with pasta to keep from saying anything.

When Kelly returned to the table, the silence was palpable as everyone seemed anxious for Max to say something. When he only twirled spaghetti around his fork, the widow asked, “So Max, how do you like Gull Island so far?”

Max wondered what Pastor Robbins had told everyone about him. He must have bent the truth by suggesting Max was new to the island. He decided it would be easier to play along than to waste time explaining the truth about where he’d spent the last twenty years. “It’s a nice place.”

“I remember I came here to visit some friends after Harry died and I just fell in love with the island. It’s so beautiful. Water everywhere, not like back in Kansas. Don’t you love the water, Kelly?”

“I can’t swim,” she said in a voice so soft he doubted anyone else at the table heard her.

“There’s always time to learn,” the college girl said.

Silence hung over the table except for the rattling of utensils against plates. “You know what, I just finished the best book yesterday,” the widow said. “It was such a beautiful love story, I used up half a box of Kleenex. The main character was named Harry and he was just like my Harry. I couldn’t believe it, it’s like the author looked right inside my head.”

Max stiffened at the last statement. No one seemed to notice. The divorcee asked for the name of the book and the widow answered. Then she continued, “You see, Harry quits his job on Wall Street after his wife dies and buys a Harley. He starts driving across the country, meeting people and writing what he sees. Then one night he’s going through the desert in Arizona—no, wait, it’s New Mexico—when he finds this girl standing at the side of the road. She has amnesia, so she doesn’t know who she is or how she got out there in the first place. Well, she looks so much like his dead wife that he calls her Jenna—that’s the wife’s name—and they start driving around the state looking for clues. Isn’t it so romantic?”

“My ex would have just left me standing alongside the road. Don never gave a s—” The divorcee stopped herself before uttering the curse word. “He never cared about anyone but himself. It was always him, him, him.”

“My Jackie listens to me,” the college girl said. “Just the other day he came home and asked me what was wrong and listened to me the whole time.”

“Wait until he gets that ring on his finger. Then he’ll turn into a selfish, insensitive pr—” There was another pause before the divorcee continued, “Jerk. It’s like one of those horror movies, Dracula or the Wolfman or something.”

“Well, my Harry always listened to me. He remembered every anniversary and birthday. You know, just before the accident, we were talking about taking a trip like in the book after Linda went off to college. He had all the maps and everything.” The widow began crying and while the others tried to comfort her, Max found himself reviewing Sarah’s date with Sam Melville.

Now he understood the problem. The whole time at the restaurant, Melville had only talked about himself. He’d never once asked Sarah about herself or tried to bring her into the conversation. No wonder the date went sour.

He needed to make someone more caring and sensitive. Someone like Harry, the hero of the book the widow had been talking about. He needed to get to the bookstore. “Excuse me, everyone, but I better get going,” he said.

“Max, we only just started,” the widow said.

“Come on, stay a little longer,” the college student said.

“I really have to go.”

“It’s not because of me, is it?” the widow said.

“No, no, I just have some other things to do.”

“You need a ride?” Kelly asked. Max noticed the silence that descended over the table when she spoke, as if everyone else were holding their breath.

“Well—” He was about to refuse, but then remembered how long it had taken to get a cab last time. The bus would take even longer with all the walking he would have to do to the stop and from the stop. At least if he rode with Kelly he would arrive sooner. “Actually, I could. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble.” When she took his arm, he noticed she was wearing a thick sweater though it was not cold inside the church or outside. He could only imagine what the other women at the table and Pastor Robbins must be thinking to see the two of them together this way. They’ll probably start sending out wedding invitations, he thought.

She led him out to the parking lot to a car much lower than Lindsey’s SUV. “What kind of car is this?” he asked.

“A Gremlin,” she said. She opened the door for him and he ducked into the car.

“Is it new?” he asked once she took the wheel.

“No, I’ve had it for sixteen years now. My older brother drove it before he went into the navy. I don’t drive a lot. Mostly just to church and back.”

“I see. Can you take me to the Barnes & Noble? Unless it’s too far out of the way,” he said.

“No, it’s fine.”

“Thanks. I really appreciate this.” Her arm brushed against his as she reached for something in the space between them. He heard a click followed by music coming through the speakers. He recognized the song right away as the only piece of popular music he learned to play by ear after he lost his sight. Billy Joel’s “Always a Woman.” His father didn’t care for that kind of music, so Max had to practice the song at Rodney Jackson’s house using the electric keyboard belonging to Rodney’s brother. Max played the tape over and over again, straining to identify each note while imagining Alicia Hauptmann’s reaction when Max played the song for her at her birthday party. The music would express everything he couldn’t bring himself to say. But then, after the weeks of practice, he never got the chance to perform for Alicia.

Max’s fingers twitched as he listened to the song, playing the notes on an imaginary keyboard. He hadn’t listened to the song in twenty years, but he knew he could still play every note. “I’m sorry about the dinner,” Kelly said, interrupting his thoughts. “You’re not the first one they’ve done that to.”

“Really?”

“They’re always trying to fix me up with someone. They think I’m lonely, living with Mother the way I do. I’m not.” Before Max could say anything, she continued, “I remember you from school. I sat two seats behind you in fourth grade. I don’t suppose you remember.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. You were always more interested in Alicia. She was a lot prettier than me, especially back then.” Max heard the click of a lighter and smelled a cigarette. Air rushed in through a crack in Kelly’s window. “She’s a heart surgeon now in Los Angeles, I think. Developed some kind of new technique they named after her. There was a whole big article in Time magazine about it. She might win a Nobel Prize.”

Max was too stunned to say anything. To think he might have married Alicia, if only his parents had let him go to that party. For a moment he imagined her coming home after a long day of saving lives to hear him play something on the piano to calm her nerves. Then the thought of Conte’s dream and what he’d done to her image obliterated the fantasy. Kelly asked him something, but he didn’t hear the words. “Pardon?”

“I said we’re almost there.”

“Oh. Thanks for doing this.”

“It’s no problem. You want me to go inside with you?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I think I’ll go in anyway. I’ve never been here before. They probably have a better selection than Mrs. Holloway’s shop.” After she stopped the car, she held open the door for him and took his arm again. “Wow, this place looks so fancy. Like the library over in Seattle.”

When Lindsey took him here, his initial reaction was very similar. By now he’d gotten used to the size of the place and knew his way to the audiobook section without assistance. The clerks at the customer service desk already knew him by name. Today, though, he let Kelly show him the way and pretended as if he’d never been here before. “Are you looking for anything in particular?” she asked.

“That book they were talking about at the dinner.”

“Oh, sure, I think they have that one here. I see it. Better make sure it’s the unabridged version. You don’t want to pay full price for less than the full book.” She rummaged around the boxes for a moment and then pressed one into his hand. “Anything else?”

“That should hold me for now. Thanks.”

She took him through the rest of the store, describing everything she saw and always sounding astonished by the selection. “This place is great,” she said. “I could spend days here.”

“So could I.” As they continued to walk around the store, he started turning his head in the direction of the checkout. He wanted to get home and listen to the book so he could visit Sarah tomorrow morning with a new date for her. Kelly didn’t seem to pick up on his hints, leaving him in one of the cushiony armchairs so she could get a basket. By the time he got back to Midway House, wouldn’t be able to finish the book tonight.

When Kelly finally took him to the checkout, the cashier said, “Max, you’re running a little late today, aren’t you?”

“I guess so.”

“Just one today?”

“Yes.”

“You brought a friend with you today?”

“I brought him,” Kelly said before Max could answer. The cashier took five minutes to process Kelly’s transaction. He wondered if she would have room for all the books, imagining her apartment above the meat market so filled she and her mother used the books for furniture.

As she drove him home, she said, “There’s something you should know about me.”

“Really?”

“I have a boyfriend of sorts. His name’s Luis. He’s the butcher at the shop.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t tell the ladies at the church, because—” She paused to light up another cigarette. “He’s married to this woman back in Costa Rica. They’ve been having trouble finalizing the divorce. Please don’t tell anyone. Not even Pastor Robbins.”

“I won’t.”

“Thanks. I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea after tonight.”

“I understand.” The car came to a stop, but this time she didn’t get out to help him with the door. He unfastened his seatbelt and found the door handle. After getting out, he stopped on the curb to wave at her car, wondering why she was still sitting there. Even after he went inside, the Gremlin didn’t move.

“Who’s that?” Jerry asked him.

“Someone from church. She gave me a ride.”

“Maybe she stalled or something,” Jerry said.

“I don’t know.” He headed for the stairs, leaving Kelly to handle her own problems. Once in his room, he unwrapped the book and popped it into the tape player. As he listened through the night, he began to understand what he needed to do.

Chapter 19

2007-06-14T12:59:00.003-07:00

Chapter 19

Sarah looked at the pile of invoices and sighed. How could one aquarium generate so much paperwork? She wished she could go home and get about sixteen more hours of sleep; she had yet to adjust to getting up at four in the morning for exercise, but at least she’d lost five pounds.

When the telephone rang, she considered letting the caller leave a voicemail to answer later. The last thing she needed at the moment was another problem to deal with. But there was no sense waiting. “Yes?”

“There’s someone here to see you, Ms. Gladstone.”

“Who?”

“A Mr. Sam Melville.”

“Does he have an appointment?”

“Ms. Gladstone, I promise to only take a few minutes of your time. I would like to speak with you about investing in the aquarium’s future,” Melville said in a bass growl that reminded her of Barry White.

“I can spare a few minutes. I’ll be right out.” She took her suit jacket from the back of her chair and headed for the door. On the way to the front desk, she stopped in front of Koo’s tank to check her reflection. God, she looked tired. She smoothed down her hair and evened out her lipstick with a finger. He’ll probably think I’m a mess.

She saw an exceptionally tall, thin black man at the front desk in a gray suit that must have cost a fortune. When he smiled, his teeth showed, a gold canine winking at her. He stood at least a foot taller than her. “Ms. Gladstone, I’m Sam Melville.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Despite the slenderness of his hands, his grip was strong enough to make her wince.

“I’m sorry to stop by without an appointment, but I’m only in town for today.”

“No, it’s no problem at all.” He was cute, no doubt about it. Even with that flat nose and the ears sticking out from his shaved head, there was an exotic quality to his face. Those fine cheekbones and the dark brown eyes that seemed so mysterious. She wondered what brought someone like him all the way out to Gull Island. “Let’s go back to my office.”

On the way back, they stopped at the tanks so she could tell him about Koo. “This is Koo, our latest addition.”

“She is beautiful. A killer whale, correct?”

“That’s right. You know your whales.”

“It’s a hobby.”

“Who’s this?” Lucille asked. She carried a clipboard, no doubt with more problems for Sarah to handle.

“This is Mr. Melville. He’s interested in the aquarium.” Sarah smiled at her co-worker, but wanted to scream, “Back off, he’s mine!”

Lucille didn’t seem to notice. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Melville. I was about to feed Koo. Would you like to come?”

“Mr. Melville doesn’t have a lot of time,” Sarah said. She didn’t know why Lucille bothered; no one young and handsome like Melville would be interested in a dried-up fossil like Lucille.

“I’ll have to take a rain check. Thank you for the offer.”

“I hope you come back soon. With a little more time.”

After Lucille tottered off, Sarah took Melville’s arm. “Let’s go to my office now so you can tell me what brings you out to our little facility.”

“Of course. Lead on.”

Once in her office, she noted how he looked like an adult sitting in a kindergartner’s chair when he sat down. She blushed at the thought of what it must be like to get in bed with someone that tall. “Well, um, how can I help you?”

“I read about the Gull Island Aquarium in the Times two weeks ago. I’ve always had an interest in underwater life. Last year I went down to the Titanic in a minisub.” She suppressed a laugh at the thought of him compacting himself to fit inside a minisub. “Have you ever dived to the Great Barrier Reef?”

“No, I haven’t had the chance yet.”

“It’s amazing. So many wonderful creatures. You really should go some time. I could give you a personal tour.” When he smiled, she thought she would fall out of her chair. He was coming on to her! She couldn’t give in too easily.

“I’m afraid I have too much work to do around here.”

“Yes, of course. You’re right. I’m sure you have many responsibilities around here.” He folded his hands and leaned forward until his fingers touched the desk. “I would like to make a sizable investment to your facility to make this the largest aquarium in North America.”

“Really?”

“Yes. In the hands of someone as capable as yourself, I’m certain we can do great things.” While she sat there with her mouth hanging open, he took her hand. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“This is really something for the board to discuss. I mean, I’m flattered, but—”

“I understand. I’m sorry to circumvent the proper channels this way. Perhaps, though, we could discuss my ideas over dinner?”

“Dinner? Well, yes, I think we could.”

“Excellent. I’ll have my driver pick you up at seven.”

“Seven? That would be fine. I, uh, I better give you my home address so your driver knows where to go.” She laughed, feeling as awkward as when Dave Murray asked her to the homecoming dance in sixth grade. With a trembling hand she reached into her desk for a business card. On the back she scribbled her address, hoping he could read her writing.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

As soon as he left, she reached into her drawer for a belt of bourbon to calm her nerves. A date! She hadn’t gone on a date in months. And she looked terrible. She checked her watch and then took another shot of bourbon.

She picked up the phone and called her salon. “This is an emergency,” she said. “I have a date in four hours and I look awful. You have to help me.”

“You’re in luck, I just had a cancellation. If you get here in ten minutes I can fit you in,” Rosie, her stylist, said.

“You’re a lifesaver. I’ll be right there.” She broke the connection, and then dialed the receptionist to say she was leaving early today. After another hit of bourbon, she snatched her purse and ran out to her car.

Two hours later, Sarah’s hair was shampooed, cut, and put up to show off her lovely neck, as Rosie said. Then they applied make-up to hide the bags under her eyes and blush so her face didn’t look so pale. “You could really use a tan. You’re white as a sheet.”

“I know. There just isn’t time.” She looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. She still looked pale and not even make-up could disguise the tiredness in her eyes, but it would have to do. If she got lucky, the restaurant would be dark enough so he couldn’t notice any of these things. “Thanks, Rosie, you’re a miracle worker.” She paid the bill and then tore out of the parking lot to go home.

She threw open the front door of the house and ran upstairs to her room. “Sarah, honey, is everything all right?” her mother called.

“I’m fine, Mom.” She opened her closet and began rummaging through her clothes for something to wear. She didn’t have a lot of dresses and the ones she did own seemed inadequate for a date with someone like Sam Melville. Finally, she settled on a black dress that went down to just above the knee to give him a good look at her legs. With all the walking she and Alicia had done, there wasn’t a trace of cellulite on her calves.

As she looked through her jewelry box for a pair of earrings, Mom opened the door. “Sarah, what’s going on?”

“I have a date.”

“A date? With who?”

“A man I met at the aquarium.” She found a pair of diamond studs she didn’t remember owning.

“Oh, honey, you look so beautiful.”

“I guess.”

“How late do you think you’ll be out with this date?”

“Christ, Mom, not this again.”

“I’m sorry. I suppose you won’t be wanting dinner either.”

“No, he’s taking me out to dinner.” When the doorbell rang, Sarah froze. “That’s him! What do I do?”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, your father will get the door.” Sarah nodded and turned to the mirror. Rosie’s hairdo was already starting to come apart; Sarah scooped a few strands of hair back into place. “Don’t be out too late.”

“Mom, don’t worry.”

“I know. Have a good time.” Sarah kissed Mom on the cheek and then bounded down the stairs. Instead of Melville, she found a woman in a chauffeur’s outfit.

“Mr. Melville will meet you at the restaurant,” the chauffeur said in a New England accent.

“Oh.” She followed the chauffeur out to a stretch limousine and crawled into the backseat. By herself, the back of the limo seemed cavernous and lonely. She sank deeper into the leather upholstery and closed her eyes as the limo glided along the streets of Gull Island.

“Ma’am, we’re here,” the chauffeur said. Sarah opened her eyes and realized she’d slept through the ride. The chauffeur held open the door. Sarah stepped out of the limo and found herself standing in front of the Gull Island Country Club. “Mr. Melville is waiting inside.”

“Thank you.” She went up the front walk, jumping with surprise when a doorman held open the front door. “Sorry.” The maitre’d showed her through the elegant dining room with its white tablecloths, wood paneling, and soft light coming from a crystal chandelier. Melville looked as out of place in the restaurant chair as in her office. He stood up as she approached and held out her seat.

“You look wonderful,” he said.

“Oh, thanks. So do you.” As he sat down, she took a look around to see how the rich women around her behaved. She unfolded her napkin and tried to remember which fork to use for which course.

She hadn’t been to a country club since she was seven years old. She squirmed the entire night in a lacy white dress with a bow in her hair that made her look like a baby. When the main course of grilled salmon arrived, Sarah made a face, threw down her fork, and crossed her arms. “Sarah Louise, eat your dinner,” Mom said.

“I don’t want to. I want a cheeseburger!” Sarah said.

Mom leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Sarah, eat your dinner this instant or you’re going to get a spanking.”

“I don’t care. I hate this place!” At this, Mom grabbed her by the collar to drag her to the bathroom. Sarah winced at the memory of Mom spanking her in the stall. Afterwards, Mom straightened Sarah’s bow and wiped tears from her eyes. “You stay here until you can behave,” Mom said and left her there. She took off the stupid bow, tossing it in the garbage, and then went back to the stall for the rest of the night until Mom collected her. After that night, Mom and Dad always went to the country club alone, leaving her and Danny with a babysitter.

“Are you feeling all right?” Melville asked.

“I’m fine. Let’s order. How about a bottle of champagne?”

“Yes, good idea.” Melville signaled for the waiter to come over and ordered the most expensive champagne. “Now then, let’s talk about the aquarium.” He began with a detailed analysis of property values in the area and the cost to buy a parcel of land to increase the aquarium’s size. When the champagne arrived, he poured a glass for each of them. “To our new partnership.” They clinked their glasses together and she took a cautious sip.

After he began to discuss building permits, she finished her glass and then poured another. As he went into various architects he knew, she interrupted to say, “You said you dove to the Great Barrier Reef. That must have been really interesting.”

“Yes, of course.” She leaned her chin on one hand as he described the gear used to make the dive and his training with a world-renowned instructor. When the waiter returned to take their orders, she let him order for both of them.

“What kinds of fish did you see?” He ran through an encyclopedic list, describing each type of fish to the smallest detail. By the time her filet mignon arrived, she wanted to get back into the limo and fall asleep again.

She ate her steak with careful bites so she wouldn’t appear unsophisticated to Melville, if he would even notice. Why hadn’t he been this dull back at the aquarium? There he’d seemed warm and charming. Maybe there was something in the country club air to make people dull.

Through the entrees she made interested-sounding noises at the appropriate times and finished off the bottle of champagne, plus two glasses of scotch. His tour of the Great Barrier Reef finally wound down when the waiter came around with the dessert cart. “What would you like?” Melville asked.

“I’d rather skip dessert.”

“A woman like you doesn’t need to worry about one little dessert. Try something.”

She accepted a piece of cheesecake, gulping it down in three undignified bites. She could already see that a future with Melville meant a lifetime of boring restaurants while she listened to him drone on. She should cut her losses now, but after months of celibacy, she wanted to at least make it back to his hotel room.

He was midway through his dive to the Titanic, when she interrupted to suggest, “I’m getting a little tired. How about we go back to your place?”

His face brightened at this. “Yes, I see.” He paid the bill and then escorted her to the limo. Sarah leaned her head against his shoulder as the limousine cruised back to the Gull Island Regency, the island’s only five-star hotel.

In bed she found him just as dull as at the restaurant. Though she had never seen a dick that large before, he seemed to have little idea of how to use it. While she worked, he laid back, doing nothing. Then he came too quickly, leaving her unsatisfied. “Wonderful,” he said before falling asleep.

She laid next to him, staring at the ceiling for over an hour, but he didn’t wake up. Instead, he began snoring with a sound matching his size. She rolled out of bed and found her clothes. After she got dressed, she took one last look at him lying there, so handsome yet suddenly so unappealing. She took the elevator back to the lobby and called for a taxi.

At home, her parents were already in bed. Sarah opened the refrigerator and made a sandwich from leftover ham. She washed it down with a soda, longing for her bottle of bourbon. She opened the freezer to find a pint of triple chocolate ice cream. When some of the ice cream dribbled onto the front of her dress, she didn’t mind; she wouldn’t wear this again anyway.

Chapter 18

2007-06-14T12:59:00.001-07:00

Chapter 18

He ended up back in Fishtown; he knew from a combination of the smell and the way the sidewalks slanted down towards the harbor. If he followed the sidewalk long enough, maybe he could find the harbor and get on a boat to take him somewhere far away. A permanent exile where his ability would no longer harm anyone. Not until Sarah woke up from the coma.

She wanted someone to make her feel beautiful, valuable, and loved. She needed more than just her parents, co-workers, and a best friend. She needed a lover to make her feel special. If only he knew how to create such a person for her.

In the last two weeks, he’d listened to books on engineering, physics, astronomy, and of course marine biology, but he’d read nothing on sex or relationships. No, books wouldn’t hold the answer to his questions. He wanted to make someone real for Sarah who would never harm her as he had done to Alberto Conte.

Near the base of the hill, he heard the buzzing of a neon sign and figured he should look for a telephone to call a taxi so he could get back to Midway House. He found a door and pushed it open. Right away he smelled fried hamburger, onions, and mushrooms combined with beer. Must be some kind of restaurant. “Help you?” a man’s voice growled.

“Do you have a phone I can use?”

“It’s in the back. Keep going straight ahead. It’s on the left side, next to the door for the men’s room.”

“Thanks. Where exactly am I?”

“Whaler’s Bar and Grill. The best burgers in Fishtown.”

“Oh.” He followed the man’s directions, hoping the man wasn’t the type who enjoyed playing tricks on blind people by steering them into walls or women’s bathrooms. The man’s directions were accurate; Max found a payphone next to a door, from which came a foul odor he assumed was the men’s room. By now he’d memorized the number of Gull Island’s only taxi company. The dispatcher even knew his voice when he called.

“You’ll have to wait about an hour before I can get someone over to Fishtown,” the dispatcher said in her nasal voice tinged by a New England accent that made her sound more sophisticated. “I got one driver out with the flu, another is out at McAlbee Point, and the other just reported his car won’t start, so now he’s got to be towed to the garage.”

“I can wait. Thanks,” Max said and hung up. He found his way back to a barstool to wait.

“You going to order something?”

“Do you mind if I wait here for a little bit? Someone is going to pick me up.”

“I mind if you don’t order something. This ain’t no park bench.”

“Oh. I guess I’ll order something then.”

“If you want anything other than a hamburger or a beer you’ll have to wait a few minutes.”

“I’ll have a beer.”

“Good choice.” A glass bottle was slammed down in front of Max. He took a cautious sip from the bottle, recoiling at the bitter taste. How did people drink so much of this stuff? He couldn’t understand the attraction for Sarah. He coughed and pushed the beer away. “I just realized who you remind me of. You the Caldwell boy?”

“Yes.”

“My son went to school with you. Sherm Melville.”

Max thought for a minute, trying to place the name. Sherm the Worm. In first grade Sherm had brought an apple to school; when he took a bite, a worm dangled from his mouth. The nickname stuck after that, though by fifth grade it also came to salute Sherm’s rebounding ability in basketball. “Sure, I remember him. What happened to him?”

“He’s a forward on the Pistons. Won a championship ring and brought the trophy back here. They gave him a parade and everything. You been living in a cave or something?”

“I don’t really follow basketball.”

“I was sorry to hear about your parents. They seemed like nice folks for a couple of hippies.”

“Hippies?”

“Ah, I don’t mean nothing by it. Just they were into the arts and all that liberal stuff.”

“Oh.”

“So why’d you come out here? Other than using the phone.”

“I was out for a walk and sort of got lost.”

“Maybe you should get one of them dogs.”

“I’m allergic to dogs.”

“Well, maybe they got seeing-eye cats too. You should look into it. Then you won’t get lost.”

“I guess.” Max reached for the beer and took another sip.

“Come on, boy, that ain’t how a man drinks. You got to knock that son of a bitch back, not take no itty-bitty sips like one of those queers on the TV.”

Max tilted the bottle back to let more of the beer wash down his throat, trying to suppress his gag reflex as he did so. His head began to feel lighter, like when he spun around as a child until he got dizzy. “There you go,” Mr. Melville said.

Now Max began to understand why Sarah kept alcohol in her drawer at work. The dizzy sensation made him feel like he could float away. “I take it you aren’t much of a drinker.”

“This is my first one. Except when I was seven, my dad let me have a little Dixie cup of wine for New Year’s.”

“You best be careful with that stuff. I don’t want you passing out here on the floor.” Something rumbled down the length of the bar and Max felt a bowl in front of him. “Here, try some of these peanuts. Food ought to keep the alcohol from going straight to your brain.”

Max reached into the bowl and took out a handful of salty Spanish peanuts. He managed to get about half in, spilling the rest on the bar. “I’m sorry. How careless of me,” he said to the peanuts. He slapped his hands against the bar in an attempt to find them, but they skittered away, falling to the floor. “Damn.”

“Never you mind those. So why you out walking this way? Most folks tend to walk away from Fishtown.”

“I don’t know. I have a little bit of a problem.”

“If you in trouble with the law, you best get on out of here. I don’t want no cops busting in here again.”

“No, it’s not that. There’s this girl—”

“Oh, that kind of trouble. That trouble’s even worse.”

“I want her to be happy, but I don’t really know what she wants. I don’t want to screw things up again.”

“You show me one man who does know what a girl wants and I’ll show you a full-blown liar. I don’t think God even knows what they want and he created them.”

Max finished his beer and wobbled on the stool. “What kind of men do you think women like?”

“Well, a lot of women will tell you looks don’t matter and they’re right. Looks don’t mean shit if you got money and power. You take my boy for instance. Sherm ain’t much to look at. He got his daddy’s flat nose, his momma’s big ears, and he’s skinny like one of them Ethiopian kids on the TV to boot. You think any of that matters to the ladies?”

“No?”

“That’s right. He shows up at the clubs in his Mercedes with that championship ring on his finger and throwing around hundred dollar bills like they was pennies. You think he’s ever hurting for a little female companionship?”

“No?”

“Right again. They all over him. He already got two girls knocked up. Course I never get to see my grandkids. He just gives the girls some money and they go away.”

“That’s too bad.”

“His momma and I try to tell him to slow down and take care of his money, but he won’t listen. I tell him, ‘Enjoy it while it lasts’ ‘cause in a few years he’ll be washing glasses here when he gets too old to play and no more money is coming in.”

“Really?”

“Nah, he could probably end up as one of them radio commentators. Boy always had a big mouth. Gets that from his momma.” Max wasn’t sure about that but didn’t want to hurt Mr. Melville’s feelings. “Of course there’s one thing a woman likes even more than money and power.”

“What’s that?”

“A little something downstairs, if you know what I mean. If you’re blessed that way, won’t matter if you ain’t got two nickels to rub together. Women go crazy over that.”

“They do?”

“Sure they do. Drives them wild.”

“Oh.”

“Course for guys like me there’s always this stuff.” Mr. Melville tapped Max’s beer bottle. “If you got nothing else, you can always get her liquored up ‘til she can’t see straight.”

“I don’t think I could do that.”

“Come on, boy, sometimes you got to play dirty.”

“I guess.” Max listened to Mr. Melville discuss his son’s basketball career, analyzing every mistake Sherm had ever made, until he heard a car horn. “I better go.” He put some money on the bar and headed for the door.

“Good luck with your lady friend. Come back some time and let me know how you did.”

“I will,” Max said. He found his way to the taxi and climbed into the backseat. After telling the driver where to go, Max settled back in his seat. Money and power, he thought. He had given Sarah money and power, but it had only made her less happy. Right now, though, it was the only idea on the table. Either that or watch Sarah’s life unravel. Given the choice, he would rather rely on Mr. Melville’s advice and hope it did what he could not on his own.

Chapter 16

2007-06-14T12:58:00.001-07:00

Chapter 16

Sarah scooped the remaining mashed potatoes into a Ziploc bag and then opened the refrigerator door. The fridge was so crammed with the leftovers of other meals and the raw materials for future meals that she didn’t know if she could find a place for the potatoes. She managed to slide back a side of ribs enough to squeeze in the bag. After closing the door, she waited a moment to make sure it wouldn’t pop open.

Mom came in with an armload of dirty plates. “Do you want to wash or dry?” Mom asked.

“We have a dishwasher, you know.”

“I don’t trust that thing. If you want the job done right, you can’t leave it to some machine.”

Sarah checked her watch. “Actually, Alicia and I are going out to see a movie tonight.”

“Oh. When will you get back?”

“I’m not sure.”

“If you’re going to be out too late, call so your father and I won’t worry.”

“Mom, I’m not a kid anymore.” Saying this made her feel like a child again, but she couldn’t remember Mom ever being this nosy when Sarah went out for dates before.

“I know, honey. I can’t help it. I love you.”

Mom put the dishes in the sink and began to run the water. From the way her shoulders bobbed, Sarah guessed she was crying. Sarah put her arms around Mom, resting her chin on Mom’s shoulder. “It’s just a movie. I’m not going off to Iraq or anything. Don’t worry so much. I’ll be fine.”

When Sarah let go, Mom turned around and smiled. “You better go upstairs and get ready.”

Sarah gave Mom one final hug before dashing up the stairs to get dressed. She pulled out the pair of hip-hugging jeans she’d worn out of the hospital. Now she had to suck in her stomach before zipping them up. She let out the breath and frowned at her reflection. A roll of fat drooped over the button and love handles oozed from the waistband. Disgusted, she took off the jeans and found a pair of slacks with an elastic waistband. With an untucked striped blouse, the bulge could hardly be seen. But now she looked more like a PTA mom than a woman going out for a night on the town.

“Sarah, Alicia’s here!” Dad called up the stairs.

“I’ll be down in a minute.” Her hair felt greasy, so she reached for an elastic band on the dresser to put her hair back in a ponytail that only enhanced the soccer mom image.

When she got downstairs, she found Alicia looking almost identical to her. They could be mistaken for sisters. “You ready?” Sarah asked.

“Sure, let’s go.” They went out to the driveway and Sarah considered for a moment asking Alicia to drive. The battered Cavalier at least had some speed, agility, and styling. Next to it, the Explorer looked so bloated, bulky, and dull. But Alicia was already climbing into the SUV’s passenger seat.

Sarah tried to listen as Alicia talked about the reviews for the movie they wanted to see and how the star had just divorced his wife to marry his co-star. “Isn’t it just terrible that such a hot guy would do something so sleazy to his own wife? Some people have it all, but it’s not enough.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Is something wrong? You want to see another movie?”

“No, I’m fine. Just a little tired.” Alicia nodded and then continued talking while Sarah focused on the road. She longed for the carefree days of college when they could spend all night partying and sleep through classes the next day. Now she had a job taking up sixteen hours of her day six days a week, a fancy house with her parents doting on her every spare minute, and a car that handled like a tank.

When they pulled into the parking lot of the movie theater, Sarah bought the tickets and found seats while Alicia stopped at the concession stand. As the previews rolled, Alicia came down the aisle with two Cokes, candy, nachos, and a cavernous tub of popcorn. “Are you going to eat all that?” Sarah asked.

“It’s for both of us.” Sarah’s stomach felt bloated from dinner, but she took a soda and a box of Goobers. She began to lose interest in the movie midway through the second extended car chase; she looked over to Alicia, but her friend stared at the screen with fascination.

Sarah tried to remember the last time she’d watched an entire movie. Most of the time her date had his arm around her by the end of the previews and by the opening credits they were kissing. Now she sat in the dark, squirming in her seat as the adulterous hero and his co-star dodged bullets and leapt from exploding buildings. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Sarah finally said and slunk out of the theater.

She went out to the lobby, but the only other people were three teenage girls, one behind the concession counter and the other two sweeping the floor. She needed a drink.

“Are you looking for someone, ma’am?” one of the girls asked, leaning her broom and dustpan against a wall.

Ma’am? She couldn’t look that old to them. The nerve of these pizza-faced brats! “I’m fine,” she said and marched back into the theater. She sat through the end of the movie, enduring more explosions and bad dialogue until the final passionate kiss between the hero and co-star. How long since she had last kissed any man? Three months at least. No wonder she looked like a ma’am to those punks in the lobby.

When the lights went up in the theater, Sarah noticed she and Alicia had gone through all the snacks. Many more days like this and people would start asking when she was due. She and Alicia could shop at the same plus-size store.

Once in the car, Sarah said, “Let’s get a drink.”

“Didn’t you like the movie?”

“Sure, I guess. I just thought we could maybe go to a club or something for a little nightcap.”

“All right, but I have to get up early tomorrow for work.” Come to think of it, so did Sarah. A state inspector was dropping by at the end of the week to make sure the aquarium was properly maintaining the animals. She needed to go through every tank with the proverbial fine-toothed comb to make sure they passed. Still, one drink wouldn’t hurt.

She stopped in front of a squat building with neon signs for Budweiser and Miller in the window. She hadn’t been in a bar since the accident; it felt like a homecoming when she climbed down from the Explorer and went inside. All around she heard shouted conversations over the jukebox music, darts thumping against the wall, and pool balls clacking together.

“It looks a little crowded,” Alicia said.

Sarah only shrugged. She snaked her way through bikers, fishermen, and college boys. After dropping onto a barstool, she motioned for the bartender. Next to her, Alicia sat on the edge of her stool, looking ready to run away. “What can I get you ladies?” the bartender asked. He was a burly man who no doubt moonlighted as the bouncer when things got rough. She thought of the string of bartenders from her days of fake IDs until the accident who’d served as surrogate fathers by shielding her from sleazy guys who didn’t realize “no means no.”

“We’ll just have two beers,” Sarah said.

As they waited for the bartender to return, Sarah surveyed the local wildlife. She identified a group of unattached college boys and a couple of older men in a corner booth. None of their eyes were looking in her direction. They were all watching the girls on the dance floor who could still fit into hip-hugging jeans and could wear tank tops without worrying about cellulite jiggling from below their arms.

When the bartender came back, Sarah accepted her beer and drank it in two pulls. Alicia had not touched hers, so Sarah drained it too before leaving money on the bar. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t come in here looking like Betty Crocker and expect anyone to pay attention to her. She was just an uptight housewife who’d landed on the wrong side of town to them. “Let’s go home,” she said to Alicia. She stumbled on the way out and felt her head spinning. A couple beers never used to affect her. She used to be able to drink a twelve-pack in one night and wake up without a hangover.

“I better drive,” Alicia said.

“Fine.” Sarah tossed her friend the keys and climbed into the passenger’s seat. She was such an idiot to come here.

“What’s wrong?” Alicia finally asked as the bar faded into the rearview mirror.

“What’s wrong is I’ve turned into Susie fucking Homemaker. I’m old, I’m fat, and I haven’t gotten laid in three months. How’s that?”

“Come on, Sarah, you’re still beautiful. You’ll find someone.” Of course Alicia didn’t understand. She had spent her whole life sitting in corners, hoping someone would give her a glance. Sarah used to be one of those girls on the dance floor with every man looking at her, wanting to take her home. Now felt like an outsider, unattractive and undesirable. She might find someone, but she never had to wait very long before.

“You’re probably right.”

“You know, one of the other nurses was telling me about this great new diet. Maybe we could give it a try.”

“It wouldn’t work, not with my parents around.”

“Come on, let’s try. What have we got to lose?” Sarah looked over at her friend and wondered if Alicia ever got down about anything. She supposed anyone who worked with children all day had to be perky. “We could meet after work to walk.”

“My schedule is pretty full right now.”

“How about before breakfast? We’ll get up at the crack of dawn to do a few laps.”

Sarah was already getting up at five-thirty in the morning to go to work. She didn’t want to lose any more sleep. Then she saw her bloated reflection in the rearview mirror. “Let’s do it.”

Chapter 17

2007-06-14T12:57:00.000-07:00

Chapter 17

After Max sat down, Lindsey asked, “What’s wrong?” He’d hoped not to be so transparent.

“It’s Sarah.”

“What about her?”

He thought back to the conversation in the Explorer after leaving the bar. She didn’t feel pretty and she wanted to have sex. He could handle the former, but even after a night spent thinking about the latter, he didn’t have a solution. “She wants to get…closer.”

“Ah, I see. Are you talking about intimacy?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Max, that’s really a job for a different kind of therapist. I could probably get you some Dr. Ruth books on tape to help you out some.”

“Who?” Before she could answer, he slapped his cane against her desktop. “Damn it, this isn’t a joke!”

Lindsey didn’t respond for almost a minute, but when she did, her voice was composed and emotionless. “Max, I didn’t mean it as a joke. I’m sorry. Now, can we discuss this rationally or should I call for security?”

“I’m sorry. This is all—” He searched for the right word to describe this latest development. Frustrating seemed the best choice. Not just that she wanted sex, but everything he did for her went wrong. He created a whole new life for her, but none of it made her happy.

He’d seen the signs during his prior visits. The way she snuck alcohol from her drawer at work. How she gained weight a little at a time. The outbursts with her mother. Naively, he’d thought everything would blow over in time, as she adjusted to the new life. Instead, her unhappiness only increased. Then he thought adding Alicia Perry would help, but last night proved she needed more than a friend.

“I understand,” Lindsey said. “I don’t imagine you have a lot of experience with intimacy after living in Gull Island Psychiatric for fifteen years.”

“Just once.”

“Really? Was this a fellow patient, an orderly, a doctor? Someone from the outside?”

“No, it was my roommate. The one who died.”

“Alberto Conte.”

“Yes.” On his first day at Gull Island Psych, he met Alberto Conte in the rec room. While an orderly was giving Max a tour, Max tripped and fell over a table where two people were playing checkers. As he lay on the linoleum with checkers pressed against his forehead, he heard Conte laugh. It started as a chuckle, but grew in volume until it was hysterical.

He heard the same laugh after they got to Max’s room. “I think you’ve already met Alberto,” the orderly said.

“Yeah, sorry about that earlier. Little prank. Hazing the new guy, you know?”

“No.”

“No hard feelings.” As the orderly pulled back to the door, Alberto whispered, “You and I are going to have a lot of fun together, sweetheart.”

Before the orderly could close the door, Max lunged forward. “Don’t leave me here!” he screamed over and over again, fighting like a wild animal to keep the door from closing. Three orderlies finally restrained him and gave him a shot to put him under.

When he awoke, he felt Conte’s breath on his cheek. “You’re awake now. Good. You feel this?” Something cool and metallic touched Max’s neck. “If you make a sound, I’m going to cut you open. Now, I want you to roll over.”

Max did as he was told and followed all of Conte’s instructions. He rolled over in bed with his face pressed against the pillow. He didn’t move as Conte peeled off his pants and underwear. He sobbed into his pillow without a sound as Conte entered him from behind.

“He raped you?” Lindsey asked. Max nodded. “Jesus Christ. And you never told anyone at the hospital?” Max shook his head. “Then the next morning he had a nervous breakdown and three weeks later slashed his wrists?” Max nodded.

But that was only half the story. The half he could tell Lindsey. The rest she would never believe.

After Conte finished, Max curled into a ball and pressed himself into a corner. As he sat there, a rage built within him, growing each time he remembered what Conte had done to him. The tears dried and he waited, biding his time until he could make Conte pay.

Then came his opportunity. Max found himself within Conte’s mind as the rapist dreamed. He couldn’t remember Conte’s original dream. It didn’t matter.

Max created the shoreline of Gull Beach with the harbor water as still as a pond. He watched Conte approach the water, pausing to listen with each step as though expecting a trap. Max waited for Conte to reach the water and then heard the high-pitched scream of a woman.

When Conte bent down to see his reflection in the water, instead of his face, he saw that of a young woman. He saw Alicia Hauptmann with her long brown hair and green eyes hidden behind oversized plastic-rimmed glasses. Conte recoiled from the water and held up a slender hand with nails painted a light pink. Then he looked down and saw the bare breasts Max imagined an adult Alicia would have grown.

As Conte screamed again, Max appeared behind him. He spun Conte around and no longer saw his rapist. Instead, he saw the young woman he’d loved in sixth grade, who’d indirectly led to the accidental deaths of his parents. He seized her arms, pulling her close until he touched those pursed, fish-like lips. Her lips tasted as sweet as he’d always imagined. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let her go, not after six years of waiting for this moment. Instead, he eased her onto the beach to make love to her.

When he finished, he looked into her eyes and saw Conte in there, still defiant, and heard his maniacal laughter. This wasn’t Alicia; she had been taken from him. She had been taken first by his parents and then by Dr. Heathcoate, who’d befriended him and then betrayed him by recommending Max needed more treatment. This dream was the closest he would ever get to her. With a scream of rage, he fucked Alicia again and again, until she was a sobbing heap on the sand and he saw nothing of Conte left in her. Then he backed away and began to run until the beach and Conte’s mind were left behind.

He found Conte curled up against the wall, as Max had been earlier. Max collapsed onto his own bed and buried his face in his hands. What had he done?

When Conte began to scream, it was with Alicia’s voice. An orderly came in to see if anyone was hurt; Conte only made incoherent noises until they took him away. Max remained sitting on his bed for hours until he found his father’s record player under the bed. He put on Barber’s “Adagio for Strings” and tried to lose himself in the current of the music. He imagined a river sweeping him away from Gull Island, to a barren field where he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. There, he fell asleep and dreamed of his parents; they refused to look at him, drifting away farther and farther until disappearing. He woke up with his pillow wet from tears.

The rest of Conte’s story he heard from other patients, orderlies, and Dr. Lee. After Max’s vicious nightmare, Conte believed he was Alicia and kept screaming about someone raping him. The doctors tried a variety of therapies over the next three weeks, but nothing would bring Conte back. Then one night, an orderly opened the door to Conte’s room and found his wrists slashed by his homemade knife.

The staff at Gull Island Psych kept Max on a suicide watch for a week after Conte’s death, but Max didn’t know how to kill himself. After the watch ended, he tried to fashion a noose from sheets, but it came unraveled, dumping him to the floor. In time, he gave up trying to end his life and settled for keeping himself isolated in Gull Island Psych so he could never harm anyone again.

“Max, talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling,” Lindsey said. Only then did he realize he was crying. “He did a terrible thing to you. It wasn’t your fault.”

He shook his head. Worse than the act itself, was his enjoyment of the power as he imposed his will on Alicia, overpowering her and releasing six years of pent-up lust. His sheer animal brutality sickened him. It was that angry beast on the beach he never wanted Sarah to see.

He wished he could explain all of this to Lindsey, to get her advice, but she wouldn’t believe him. She would think it was all a delusion, like when he told Dr. Heathcoate what happened to his parents. She would think he’d gone crazy and send him back to Gull Island Psych. Sarah’s world would crumble until it fell apart entirely, leaving her at the hands of her own nightmares.

“Max, say something. Don’t hide from me,” Lindsey said.

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. Can I go?”

“Max, please—”

“I just want to go.”

“All right, but I want to help you work through this. You don’t have to go it alone.”

But he did. No one would understand. He had no choice. He got up and left the hospital with no idea of where to go.