From the Corner of His Eye (77 page)

1996 through 2000: Day after day, the work was done in memory of Agnes Lampion, Joey Lampion, Harrison White, Seraphim White, Jacob Isaacson, Simon Magusson, Tom Vanadium, Grace White, and most recently Wally Lipscomb, in memory of all those who had given so much and, though perhaps still alive in other places, were gone from here.

At Thanksgiving dinner, again at the three tables set end to end, in the year of the triple zero, Mary Lampion, now fourteen years old, made an interesting announcement over the pumpkin pie. In her travels where none but she could go, after seven fascinating years of exploring a fraction of all the infinite worlds, she said she sensed beyond doubt that, as Barty’s mother had told him on her deathbed, there is one special place beyond all the ways things are, one shining place. “And give me long enough, I’m going to find how to get there and see it.”

Alarmed, her mother said, “Without dying first.”

“Well, sure,” said Mary, “without dying first. That would be the
easy
way to get there. I’m a Lampion, aren’t I? Do we take the easy way, if we can avoid it? Did Daddy take the easiest way up the oak tree?”

Barty set one other rule: “Without dying first…
and
you have to be sure you can get back.”

“If I ever get there, I’ll be back,” she promised the gathered family. “Imagine how much we’ll have to
talk
about. Maybe I’ll even get some new pie recipes from Over There.”

2000, the Year of the Dragon, gives way without a roar to the Year of the Snake, and after the Snake comes the Horse. Day by day the work is done, in memory of those who have gone before us, and embarked upon work of her own, young Mary is out there among you. For now, only her family knows how very special she is. On one momentous day, that will change.

A
UTHOR’S
N
OTE

T
o achieve certain narrative effects, I’ve fiddled slightly with the floor plan and the interior design of St. Mary’s Hospital in San Francisco. In this story, the characters who work at St. Mary’s are fictional and are not modeled after anyone on the staff of that excellent institution, either past or present.

I’m not the first to observe that much of what quantum mechanics reveals about the nature of reality is uncannily compatible with faith, specifically with the concept of a created universe. Several fine physicists have written about this before me. As far as I am aware, however, the notion that human relationships reflect quantum mechanics is fresh with this book: Every human life is intricately connected to every other on a level as profound as the subatomic level in the physical world; underlying every apparent chaos is strange order; and “spooky effects at a distance,” as the quantum-savvy put it, are as easily observed in human society as in atomic, molecular, and other physical systems. In this story, Tom Vanadium must simplify and condense complex aspects of quantum mechanics into a few sentences in a single chapter, because although he isn’t
aware
that he’s a fictional character, he is obliged to be entertaining. I hope that any physicists reading this will have mercy on him.

To Gerda. In the thousands of days in my life, the most momentous was—and always will be—the day we met.

A
s I wrote this book, the singular and beautiful music of the late Israel Kamakawiwo’ole was always playing. I hope that the reader finds pleasure in my story equal to the joy and consolation that I found in the voice, the spirit, and the heart of Israel Kamakawiwo’ole.

A
s I was finishing this book, Carol Bowers and her family spent a day here, under the auspices of the Dream Foundation. Carol, having read this book, you’ll understand why your visit, coming when it did, reinforced what I believe about the uncanny interconnectedness of things and about the profound and mysterious meaning in all our lives.

BY DEAN KOONTZ

77 Shadow Street • What the Night Knows • Breathless
Relentless • Your Heart Belongs to Me
The Darkest Evening of the Year • The Good Guy
The Husband

Velocity

Life Expectancy
The Taking

The Face

By the Light of the Moon
One Door Away From Heaven

From the Corner of His Eye
False Memory

Seize the Night

Fear Nothing
Mr. Murder

Dragon Tears

Hideaway

Cold Fire
The Bad Place

Midnight

Lightning

Watchers
Strangers

Twilight Eyes

Darkfall

Phantoms
Whispers

The Mask

The Vision

The Face of Fear
Night Chills

Shattered

The Voice of the Night
The Servants of Twilight

The House of Thunder
The Key to Midnight

The Eyes of Darkness
Shadowfires

Winter Moon

The Door to December
Dark Rivers of the Heart

Icebound

Strange Highways
Intensity

Sole Survivor

Ticktock
The Funhouse

Demon Seed

ODD THOMAS

Odd Thomas

Forever Odd

Brother Odd

Odd Hours

FRANKENSTEIN

Prodigal Son

City of Night

Dead and Alive
Lost Souls

The Dead Town

A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog Named Trixie

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

DEAN KOONTZ, the author of many #1 New York Times bestsellers, lives with his wife, Gerda, and the enduring spirit of their golden retriever, Trixie, in southern California.

         

Correspondence for the author should be addressed to:

Dean Koontz

P.O. Box 9529

Newport Beach, CA 92658

Don’t miss

any of the adventures of

Odd Thomas
,

America’s favorite hero
.

From #1 Bestselling Author

ODD THOMAS IS BACK
.

His mysterious journey of suspense and discovery moves to a dangerous new level in his most riveting adventure to date… .

by #1
New York Times
bestselling author

DEAN KOONTZ

On sale in hardcover
Summer 2012

ONE

Near sunset of my second full day as a guest in Roseland, crossing the immense lawn between the main house and the eucalyptus grove, I halted and pivoted, warned by instinct. Racing toward me, the great black stallion was as mighty a horse as I had ever seen. Earlier, in a book of breeds, I had identified it as a Friesian. The blonde who rode him wore a white nightgown.

As silent as any spirit, the woman urged the horse forward, faster. On hooves that made no sound, the steed ran
through
me with no effect.

I have certain talents. In addition to being a pretty good short-order cook, I have an occasional prophetic dream. And in the waking world, I sometimes see the spirits of the lingering dead who, for various reasons, are reluctant to move on to the Other Side.

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