“What?”
“I’ll sort out my clothes and pack my bag. I need to get dressed, anyway.”
Her eyes were glazed, her voice emotionless…and as she stood there, staring blankly, my mind went back to our day at the zoo, to the day that never dies, when we were alone together in our Moonlight World, sharing the sadness of the tree kangaroo. I could feel again the hush of the darkness, the silence, the emptiness, the cool of the underground air…and I could see that face, that sad-eyed bewilderment, that pitiful fear…
All of it held in a simple little moment.
It was just so…
I don’t know.
Just so much.
I
heard the car coming from a long way off. It was one of those nights when the air is perfectly still and the stars shine brightly and the world seems cold and silent. The kind of night when you can hear for miles. I was waiting at the open window, my breath turning white in the misty air, and I could hear everything: the darkness, the emptiness, the rush of my heart. When the first faint sounds of the car pricked the air, I heard it in every part of my body. The low hum, the rolling tires, the faint crunch of rubber on damp earth…
It was moving slowly. Carefully.
I leaned out the window and peered into the dark.
“Is it Iggy?” asked Candy, coming up behind me.
“I don’t know yet—I can’t see anything.”
She’d dressed and showered and washed her hair, and as she stood there beside me, with her hand on my shoulder, I could smell the scent of her skin—the scent of fresh
soap and talcum powder. It was just as good as it ever was. And I couldn’t understand how that could be.
“There,” she said suddenly, pointing into the distance. “I think I saw lights…headlights…over there, through the trees.”
“Where?”
“They’ve gone now.”
“How many?” I asked her.
“I don’t know…It was just a flash.”
“It’s got to be Mike,” I muttered. “It’s only eight-twenty…It
has
to be Mike.” I squinted through the darkness, searching for the headlights. If there was only one car, it was probably Mike; more than one, and it was definitely Iggy.
I closed my eyes for a second, squeezing them shut, then opened them again. The mist seemed to be thickening now, and as I gazed out into the darkness, trying to make out the lane, my mind seemed to be thickening, too. I kept seeing things that weren’t there: mossy branches, waxy green leaves, strange-looking ferns…all of them misty and dark and dripping with moisture.
Memories,
I told myself,
they’re just sense-memories. Hopes. Denials…
Whatever they were, they disappeared as a beam of headlights lit up the woods at the far end of the lane.
“Turn on the lights,” I said to Candy.
“Why?”
“Iggy’s instructions. Open all the curtains and turn on the lights, then come back and wait here with me.”
The headlights were coming down the lane now. Moving slowly, dipping up and down with the contours of the lane, the harsh white lights graying the passing trees. As far as I could tell, there was only one car.
“Do you think it’s Iggy?” Candy asked.
“I don’t know…I don’t think so, but we’d better do as he said—just in case. And it’ll make things easier for Mike if the lights are on, anyway. He’ll have a better view of the cottage.”
While Candy went around turning on lights and opening the curtains, I stayed at the window, my eyes fixed on the approaching car. As it drew closer, the purr of the engine filled the night, robbing the woods of their silence. I could see the exhaust fumes mingling with the mist, and I could see the dark gleam of metal…but I still couldn’t see the driver. The lights were too bright. All I could see was a vague silhouette in a starburst reflection of glass.
It was a man’s silhouette.
He was big.
He was dark.
He was turning the car into the clearing outside the cottage.
As the twin beam of the headlights swept around the trees, Candy came up beside me and looked through the window.
“Is it him?” she said.
“I don’t know…”
The car stopped. It was about twenty meters away from the cottage, angled toward us. The headlights were still on. The engine was idling. The driver was faceless and still.
I suddenly realized how cold I was. Cold, useless, scared to death. What if it
was
Iggy? I had no idea what I was going to do. I hadn’t even thought about it. I couldn’t. I was just hoping…
“Look,” said Candy, touching my arm.
I watched as the driver leaned forward in his seat, and then the headlights went out and I couldn’t see anything.
The sudden darkness was blinding. My eyes burned with the dazzling white afterimage of the headlights, but beyond that I couldn’t see
anything.
I could feel Candy’s hand gripping my arm, and I could hear the sound of the engine being turned off…and the car door opening…slamming shut…and then footsteps moving across the clearing…
Moving toward us.
Getting louder.
Getting closer.
Taking shape…
The darkness was lifting. My eyes were readjusting to the starlight glow. I could see…
A shape.
A figure.
A moonlit face.
“Mike?” I said hopefully.
His eyes shone coldly as he stepped into the light of the window. He was dressed in only a T-shirt and jeans, but if the icy air was bothering him, he didn’t show it. He didn’t show anything. He just looked around, checking things out, then turned to me and spoke quietly.
“You all right?” he said.
“Yeah.”
“You alone?”
I nodded.
He stared hard at me for a couple of moments, making sure I was telling the truth, then he looked at Candy, nodded his head, and disappeared toward the front door. As I hurried across the room to let him in, I looked at the clock. It was eight-thirty-five.
The world was spinning like crazy.
“Have you heard anything?” Mike asked as he came through the door. “Has Iggy called?”
“No.”
“OK, first things first—we need to get the car out of sight.”
“You can park it around the back of the cottage.”
“Good.” He gazed cautiously around the room, taking it all in, then—satisfied with what he’d seen—he leaned down and put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said, looking me in the eye. “It’s going to be all right. Trust me—Gina’s going to be fine.” He glanced over at Candy, then turned back to me again and lowered his voice. “How’s she doing? Is she still using heroin?”
“No,” I told him. “Not since Saturday.”
He gave my shoulder a quick squeeze, then straightened up and went over to Candy at the window.
“Can you drive?” he asked her.
“Can I
what?
”
“Drive,” he repeated. “Can you drive?”
“Well…yeah,” she said hesitantly.
“Here,” said Mike, passing her a bunch of keys. “Move the car around the back of the cottage so it can’t be seen from the lane. If you see anyone coming, hit the horn and get back in here—OK?”
Candy nodded, but didn’t move.
“We don’t have much time,” Mike told her.
She looked at him. “What are you going to do when Iggy gets here?”
“I’m going to put things right.”
“How?”
“That depends on him.”
“You’re making a big mistake.”
“Yeah?”
“Iggy doesn’t want any trouble—he just wants me. Once he’s got me, you’ll get Gina back and that’ll be the end of it. But if you start trying to ‘put things right,’ he’s not going to like it one bit.”
“Nice try,” Mike said, shaking his head, “but you’re wasting your time. Iggy’s not getting you. He’s not getting Gina. He’s not getting anyone. He’s either leaving here with nothing, or he’s not leaving here at all. That’s all there is to it. Now, are you going to move that car or not?”
She stared at him and he stared back, and I could feel a troubled silence hanging in the air. I didn’t like it. I didn’t understand it. And I was sick of not understanding things.
Why the friction?
Why the conflict?
Why the complexity?
I’m scared to death…I don’t need any complexity.
They kept staring at each other for a while, then Candy nodded her head, fetched her coat, and walked out of the cottage without so much as looking at me. I stepped into the doorway and watched her go. As she headed toward the car, with the gathering mist folding in her wake, I could sense something different about her. Something strange…something distant…almost secretive…
I didn’t know what it was.
As she got in the car and started the engine, Mike came up beside me.
“Is there a back way out?” he asked.
“What?”
“Another door…is there a back door?”
I looked at him.
“Come
on,
Joe,” he said sharply. “Snap out of it.” His eyes flicked up as Candy got the car moving. She drove slowly, with the headlights off, rolling the car across the clearing and around the back of the cottage. “Don’t worry about her,” Mike said to me. “She’ll be all right—she’s tough enough. It’s Gina we have to think about now.”
“I know,” I told him.
“She’s everything.”
“I know.”
He looked at me for a moment, then turned away and stared off silently into the darkness. From behind the cottage I heard Candy turning off the car’s ignition…then a few minutes’ silence…then the car door opening…slamming shut…another brief pause…and then hurried footsteps as she moved back toward the cottage. When she came around the corner, she was walking briskly and clutching her coat to her chest. She seemed oddly surprised to see me. Her steps faltered for a moment, her mouth opened…and then, without a word, she lowered her eyes and tightened her coat and hurried on into the cottage.
Lost in thought, perhaps…
Or maybe just cold.
I turned to Mike for his opinion, but when I saw the look on his face, I decided not to ask. He was still just standing there, frozen like a monument, still staring out into the dark…and the coldness in his eyes was terrifying.
“The back door’s locked and double-bolted,” I told him. “I’ve put the security chain on, too.”
“Good,” he said. “What about these windows?”
We’d come inside and locked the front door, and now Mike was checking out the rest of the room while I kept watch at the front window. Candy was over at the kitchen sink, filling the kettle…totally ignoring us. After Mike had finished in the front room, he went around all the other rooms—the bedrooms, the bathroom—meticulously checking that the windows were closed, locking all the doors behind him…but leaving the lights on and the curtains open. When he came back into the front room, he told me to get the fire going. While I was doing that, he started moving the furniture around.
Candy asked him what he was doing.
“Making sure we’re safe,” he said, sliding an armchair against the front door. “If they can’t get in, they’ll have to talk, and that’ll give us some time.”
“Time for what?” asked Candy.
“Thinking…watching…” He started shoving the sofa across the room. “Whatever’s necessary.”
“Then what?”
He paused and stood up straight, looking at her. “What’s your problem?”
“What do you mean?”
“You
know
what I mean—”
“I don’t—”
“What have you done since I got here?”
“I haven’t done
anything
—”
“Exactly—apart from sulking and moaning and giving me a hard time, you haven’t done anything.”
“I’m not sulking—”
“What
are
you doing, then?”
“Look,” she said, trying to stay calm. “I’m sick, for God’s sake. I’m sick and I’m scared and I feel like shit because it’s my fault that Iggy’s got Gina. And the only way to get her back is for me to go back to him. Why can’t you understand that? Moving the furniture around isn’t going to help. All you’re doing is making things worse—”
“All right,” said Mike. “What do
you
want us to do? You want us to give up?”
“No—”
“You want us dead?”
“No!” she yelled. “Of
course
I don’t—”
“You
want
to go back to your pimp?”
Silence filled the room for a moment. Candy’s face tightened and her eyes filled with rage and I thought for a second she was going to go crazy, but then her face seemed to die and her eyes went blank, and when she spoke, her voice was frail and empty.
“All right,” she said, staring coldly at Mike. “You want to know what I want? Is that it? OK…if you
really
want to know, I’ll tell you…” Her breath caught in her throat. “I want to go home…OK? I want to go home…” Her eyes started glistening. “I want to be what I used to be…I want to say sorry…I don’t want to cry anymore…I just…I just…” Her voice broke down in tears. “I just want to make everything better…”
She was sobbing and trembling, out of control, burying her head in her hands. Mike was staring at her, unable to speak. And I was moving across the room, thinking of nothing but holding her…
But I never got there.
A blaze of headlights burst through the window,
freezing me in my tracks, and then we all heard the roar of a car outside—tires screeching, engine racing, music thumping…
It sounded like thunder.
And we all knew what it meant.
Mike reacted first, throwing himself to the floor and crawling behind the sofa. “Stay where you are,” he hissed loudly at me. “Just do what I say, and don’t look at me. I’m not here—d’you understand?”
I could only just hear him over the deafening music coming from the car. The heavy drums and booming bass were loud enough to shake the ground.
“Joe!” Mike hissed again.
“Yeah,” I said, “I heard you. You’re not here.”
“OK—how many cars are there?”
“Just one, I think…”
“Can you see Gina?”
I shielded my eyes and squinted through the window. The car was parked about fifteen meters away, facing the cottage. The headlights were on full beam, blinding me.
“I can’t see a thing,” I told Mike.
“OK,” he said. “Just stay there and keep watching. If anything happens, let me know.” He called across the room. “Candy! Get over here. You’re supposed to be with Joe at the window.”
She didn’t reply.
The music kept thumping.
“Candy!” Mike shouted again. “Come
on!
What are you
doing?
They’re waiting for you…They won’t do anything until they see you…We’ve got to make them
do
something…Candy?”
I didn’t want to take my eyes off the car—I wanted to see Gina…I wanted to
see
her—but Candy’s silence was killing me. I had to know if she was all right. I had to see
her…
I couldn’t help it.
I turned my head and looked across the room. She was standing behind the kitchen counter, as dead as I’d ever seen her. Dull-eyed, staring, senseless, surrendered…