by Robin Lamont
She felt his face close to hers, his eyes looking for injuries. He smelled of wood smoke and damp leaves. Of some sort of safety. “Lucas,” she said, her voice cracking, “I can’t see.”
He pulled her in against his chest, saying, “I know. I know.”
* * *
Outside, the sun glinted off the early frost as protestors, turned curious onlookers, gathered in groups outside the fence. They talked among themselves and speculated about the police activity going on. The gate was thrown open, but a somewhat confused security guard was there to prevent all but official vehicles from coming through. A knot of state cruisers with active rotating bubble lights was clustered at the building’s entrance.
Looking grim, Haydon hovered near his vehicle. He glanced over his shoulder at Dillon Byer who was hunched in the back seat, arms handcuffed behind his back. Stuart Ostrovsky was similarly positioned in a nearby car.
Trooper Willison came out of the lab, lugging a heavy plastic garbage bag. He brought it over to Haydon and when he opened it, both men recoiled. Then Haydon donned latex gloves and searched the contents. After a moment, he removed Tim’s t-shirt, put it into an evidence bag, and labeled it.
Other officers were busy controlling the throng of Half Moon residents. One was taking down the ladders that they had used to breach the fence. Another was directing the odd assortment of animal ambulances and pet transports that were showing up. A few of them had come all the way from Burlington. Still other police officers helped Kurt Buck’s crew carry the animals out. A young woman emerged from the shadows of the building, cradling a beagle in her arms. She marched up to one of the animal emergency trucks and gently handed him over to a vet tech. She was followed by Buck himself who carried a dog under each arm. One by one, the beagles came out – each one quickly checked, then placed in a crate where they would be taken to a veterinary hospital for evaluation and treatment.
Lucas was inside supervising the removal of the rodents. When he felt the officers were organized enough to do the job right, he left the building and headed over to an EMS van parked behind a string of other emergency vehicles. He passed a paramedic coming the other way. “Is she showing any signs?” Lucas asked her.
“A little groggy,” answered the paramedic, “but he couldn’t have gotten a vein or she wouldn’t be conscious.”
Lucas thanked her and walked to the back of the van where Jude sat, her shoulders draped with a blanket. They’d cleared her of any life-threatening conditions and had asked a lot of questions about her blindness. But she’d waved them off with a vague reply, letting them think it was a lifetime disability. Inside, however, Jude was doing everything she could to keep the frightening sightlessness at bay, hoping that it would clear up at any moment.
Lucas announced himself as he came near and sat next to her. “We’ve only got a few more to go,” he said.
“What’s going to happen to them?” she wanted to know.
“We’ll get it sorted out,” he said. “I got in touch with the beagle rescue people in Massachusetts and they’re on their way. If anyone can get the dogs healed and adopted out, it’s them. I don’t know about the rats and mice, but I’m going to do everything I can to keep them from going back into a lab.”
“They saved my life, Lucas. I felt the rats all around me, but they went right for Byer, I don’t why.”
“Don’t know either. But they’re a lot smarter than we think.”
“Who went in after I did?” asked Jude.
There hadn’t been time to tell her what had gone down from his end. “Me and Buck,” he replied. “He saw Byer’s BMW parked in the back and we were afraid he’d find you. But there were a half dozen people right behind us. They heard you talking last night – about the animals being euthanized – and decided on their own to get them out. We couldn’t stop them from going in. It really was an amazing thing to see all those people helping each other get over the fence.”
“Putting themselves at risk.”
“That’s right. By the time the cops got here, I can’t tell you how many people had stormed the building. Somebody found the office and stood guard to make sure nothing left the building until the police got there. Others helped get the dogs out.”
“And the police? They’re letting you go in and get them out?”
“No, they’re helping, too,” said Lucas.
Jude made a small sound of surprise as her mouth curled into the glint of a smile.
“There’s a black trooper in charge.”
“Haydon,” said Jude.
“You know him?”
“Yeah. He’s the one I told you about.”
“Well, he’s got Byer and Ostrovsky in custody. I heard one of the cops saying that Ostrovsky was falling all over himself trying to admit to everything, including what he suspects about Byer. I’m so sorry about Tim. I really am.”
Jude nodded.
“And,” said Lucas, looking over his shoulder. “Here’s the trooper now.”
Into the aura of Jude’s blackness stepped Haydon. “Mind if I have a word?” he asked.
Lucas nodded curtly and went back to help the cops in the lab.
When he’d left, Haydon asked quietly, “How’re you doing, Jude?”
She let out a weak laugh.
“We found Tim’s t-shirt where you said. And we recovered a syringe on the floor in a room full of rats.”
“What about Byer?”
“He isn’t talking. But his partner gave us a damaging statement, and I’m going to guess that Byer has left trace evidence all over the t-shirt and the syringe. We’re working on getting a paint match on the BMW. So, Byer can lawyer up all he wants, but it’s not looking too good for him about now.”
“Will he tell you what he did with Tim’s body?”
“Guessing he will.”
They stayed silent for a moment. Finally, Haydon said, “I owe you an apology. After I left you in the hospital, I tracked down your doctor and the mechanic at the auto body shop. They backed up your story, but by the time I got back to the hospital, you’d … fled, as we say in police lingo. You should have stayed put and let us handle it.”
“There wasn’t time. I didn’t trust that you’d follow up that … expeditiously, as we say in activist lingo.”
“Why did you lie to your boss about where you were in New York?”
Jude let out a weary sigh. “I didn’t want them to know that I was undergoing an MRI and all the neurological tests. I just … didn’t want anyone to know about my vision.”
She couldn’t see Haydon nod in understanding. “Let me ask you something,” she said. “Why are you letting us take the animals out? Technically, it’s theft of property.”
“They can’t stay in the lab, can they?” Haydon reasoned. “Besides, as far as I’m aware, you and Matz are the only professional animal activists who got in. The rest are just regular folks from Half Moon. No one’s pressing charges against them – not even against you – not with Byer and Ostrovsky under arrest for murder. And no court around here is going to return the animals to Amaethon.”
“Thank you.”
He stood to go. “Well, I better get back. I hope …” She could feel the heat of his sympathy. “I hope you recover, and all goes well for you, Jude. I mean that. I’ll be in touch. We’re going to need formal statements, of course. And normally, I’d ask you to stick around until we get them. But you need to look after yourself. I know where to find you. And to be honest, even though you got it right, you’ve been a pain in the ass. I’d just as soon you finally get the heck out of Half Moon.”
Jude heard the smile in Haydon’s voice, and then the creak of his gun belt as he walked away. She stared after him into a darkness that was already becoming familiar.
CHAPTER 27
“Jude? Come on in.” Over the gentle humming of the noise ma
chine, Ruth Harris’s voice brushed against Jude’s cheeks like a warm breeze.
Many sounds now had a similar effect. She felt them more than heard them. The ticking of Finn’s nails on her apartment floor like someone tapping the back of her hand. An airplane overhead as if something was pushing down on her head. Every day she was assaulted with a multitude of new sensations, not all unpleasant, but overwhelming. Blindness was not for the faint of heart. Every step, even if she had a steady arm to hang onto, took courage.
She pushed herself up from the chair in the reception room and waited for the psychologist to guide her. Jude knew better than to try and make it into the office alone. She hadn’t gotten the hang of a cane yet and Finn, although in training to be a guide dog for her, was still an unreliable narrator in this new story. She slipped her arm through Harris’s.
“Do you want to sit in the armchair again or on the couch?” asked Dr. Harris.
“Chair, please.” It had more definition to the arms and seat. When she lowered herself, the door clicked closed and the psychologist’s shoes whooshed softly on the carpet, heading to her seat a few yards away.
“How’s it going?” asked Harris. Her voice was empathetic without being pitying. Of course, Jude had never seen what she looked like. But she sounded as if she were in her early fifties, long hair pulled up in a twist or a braid. She would have some lines around her eyes and would dress in muted colors, like soft gray and mauve. Jude imagined that she had a husband at home who read voraciously with glasses perched atop his head. And from the comfortable way she’d greeted Finn, there was probably a dog in the mix. She’d be meaning to ask but hadn’t gotten around to it.
“How are you managing, Jude?” asked Harris again.
“I can make it from my bed to the kitchen sink without crashing into anything, so … I don’t know, is that a milestone?”
“Given what you’re going through, I’d say it is.”
“Pretty low bar.”
“Sounds as if you expect an awful lot of yourself at this point.”
“I’m not used to being incapacitated.”
“You have some help? Lucas seems like a good guy.”
Jude rubbed her palms against the nubby fabric of the chair’s arms. “Yeah, he is a good guy. Too good for me, anyway.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Harris.
“Lucas is one hundred percent there for me, all the time. And I haven’t been a very good friend. I lied to him about Tim.” Her hands picked up speed against the chair’s arms. “Did I tell you that they found him? Tim. Dillon Byer buried him not too far from the crash site.”
A sharp intake of breath from Harris before she said, “I’m so, so sorry, Jude.”
“The medical examiner said that the cause of death was internal bleeding. Haydon told me that Tim probably was unconscious from the time of the accident and … uh, wouldn’t have suffered. But I don’t know if he said that to try and make me feel better.”
“From what you’ve told me, Sergeant Haydon seems like a pretty straight shooter. Did you go back to Vermont when they found Tim?”
“No. I thought I wanted to be there, but in the end, I didn’t see what good it would do.”
“It might help you deal with your grief.”
“We did go to the funeral in Maryland, and then afterwards to his sister’s house.” Jude turned her face to the cool breeze from the air conditioner. It was such a contrast to the murkiness she felt inside. “I … I have a lot of time to think these days,” she continued. “And I’ve been going over and over what happened the last week Tim and I were in contact. I didn’t handle it well, but I don’t think he did, either. If he had given the slightest hint that he was in danger, I would have done anything to help him.”
“Of course, you would.”
Jude’s train of thought was jumping all over the place. She said, “When Haydon called about recovering Tim’s body, I suddenly couldn’t stand the thought of going back to Half Moon. Especially with Lucas having to drag me all over the place.”
“Does that make you feel like a burden to him?”
“I am a burden to him.”
“A good friend is usually okay with being burdened sometimes.”
“But it’s always been that way with Lucas.”
“How so?”
“Because he’s in love with me.”
“And you don’t feel the same way?”
“I don’t know. I’m just more comfortable in a situation that is …”
After a long enough pause that the psychologist figured Jude was not going to finish her thought, Harris prompted, “… that is what?”
“Oh my God, you really get personal, don’t you?” accused Jude.
Harris chuckled softly and answered, “That’s the whole point.”
By this time, Jude’s palms had begun to sting. She stopped rubbing and clasped them together tightly. “Do I have to answer?”
“No, but I would really like to hear what you think.”
“Well, then. I think I’m just happier in a relationship that can’t go anywhere.”
“And why is that?”
“Because, like I used to tell Tim, the animals will always come first, and I don’t believe that you can build a love relationship when one person feels like that. Hell, I ought to know. I was head over heels with a man who did two years in federal prison for releasing mink from a fur farm. Even after he got out of prison, he was busting up the government traps they use to kill wolves and coyotes. I don’t know what he’s doing now, but he can’t stay in one place for more than a few weeks because the FBI has a warrant out for him.” Jude snorted derisively at herself. “Now, that’s the kind of guy I can really commit to.”
“And you believe that you can’t have both? Have a loving relationship and work to help animals?”
Jude shook her head but couldn’t articulate why she knew this.
“Well, I know many people who have both,” continued Harris. “Strong relationships and fulfilling work lives. I think it’s very possible.”
Jude had to find a new place for her hands and folded them into fists as she crossed her arms. “Could we get down to the reason I’m here?” she asked. “My alleged psychosomatic blindness?”
“Sure. The last time you were here, we had begun to talk about your history. Do you remember ever having trouble with your vision when you were a child or an adolescent?”
Jude thought she heard the street door open and wondered if it was the next patient arriving early. Or maybe Lucas willing to wait until her session was over. The psychologist read the anticipatory tilt of her head and said, “We have plenty of time.”
Oh.
“What were you asking?”
“If you had problems with your eyes before.”
“Once,” said Jude.
“When was that?”
“I was ten or eleven.”
“And what happened?”
“I’m not sure if it did really happen or I’ve manufactured the memory, but it was in my second foster home. The dad was like Jekyll and Hyde. He could be very nice, but when he drank, he turned into a monster. One night, he went on a tear and started beating on my foster mom.” Jude’s voice, even to herself, came from a place she could barely discern as she became lost in the memory. “They were screaming and throwing stuff at each other. I ran into my bedroom and hid in the closet. It was dark inside, but there was a space at the bottom of the door and you could see light through it. And I was watching the light to see if his feet came close and he’d find me. I knew that as long as I could see the light, I was safe. But it started to get dark, just the way it happened in the lab, the blackness closing in like a collapsing tunnel. And I got scared because I thought it was him. But then I heard him in the kitchen, so I knew he couldn’t be outside the closet. And it got darker and darker unt
il I couldn’t see any light at all.”
“When did your vision return?”
“I don’t remember exactly. But I think I went to school the next day, so I must have been fine.”
“That must have been very frightening.”
“Do you think what is happening to my eyes now is related to that?”
“It could be.”
“How?”
“You were confronted with violence that no child should have to witness. That must have been overwhelming. Sometimes the body has a way of compensating. You couldn’t bear to see your foster mom being hurt and were scared that you might be hurt, too. So, your body made sure that at least you couldn’t see it.”
“Okay. But I’m not a child anymore. I can fend for myself. Why is this happening now?”
“We’ll need to explore that, but I can throw out some ideas. You told me that your sight went completely when you saw the dogs in the lab, and you heard the sounds they made having had their vocal cords cut. You told me how deeply sad it made you because humans have domesticated dogs to trust us. Perhaps that kind of betrayal and suffering was something that you couldn’t bear to look at.”
“But I’ve witnessed far worse animal abuse. And besides, it had started before that. Here in D.C. and when I first got to Vermont.”
“Maybe seeing is more than just what our eyes do. Maybe you were recognizing some things about yourself. Like recognizing that it hurt you to keep secrets from Lucas and from your colleagues at The Kinship. And perhaps recognizing that sometimes your passion for animals eclipses your own needs. A need for friendship and love.”
“In other words, I should strive to be a normal person?”
“Nothing wrong with being human. Besides, is normal something you would associate with your line of work?” Jude could hear the smile in her voice.
“I need to keep fighting for animals. To do that I really need to see again.”