by C. E. Murphy
Not a natural sickness, anyway. Not somethin’ that came on the way emphysema was s’posed to. This was something more like the sick fever, something that didn’t belong, that shouldna been happening to her. I was just about hearing that voice in my head again, though it’d been quiet for so long I’d damned near forgot about it. It was the one that had said this ain’t right about a few things a long time ago, and for the first time in fifty years I was thinking the same thing: this ain’t right.
An’ the voice that’d been mostly quiet at the back of my head woke up with a roar. A whole lifetime almost like the one I’d led, only just a little different, crashed through my memories and I had just enough time to realize that voice had always been me, just me from way down the road, when it took over me and then became now—
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
My vision went double before it settled out, two of me looking through my eyes for a couple seconds. I’d been a passenger to my own life for the past fifty years, quiet and enjoying most of it, and trying ta keep my mouth shut and not make anything worse or better when I didn’t, even when things I didn’t remember kept cropping up. Now it was my turn, an’ the fella I almost was could take his shot at sittin’ in the background for a couple weeks. ‘cause that was all we had, and I knew it. We hadn’t had a lot of time, once the doc had diagnosed her.
And it killed me knowing Joanne Walker was only a couple miles away and three years too early to save my wife. There was nothing I could say to Jo that would change that. She was a twenty-four year old kid right now, angry at the world and a long damned way away from the girl I was gonna meet a few years down the road. I could turn up on her doorstep like some crazy old man pleading for a miracle, and it wouldn’t get me one. It had to be me and Annie alone through this, and she wasn’t gonna come out of it alive.
“Gary?” She and the doc had asked me somethin’, and I hadn’t been listening. “Gary, are you all right?”
I closed my eyes a minute, afraid to even look at her. The lady had just been told she was dying, and she was worried ‘bout whether I was all right. The selfish part of me wanted to say no, but I took her hand an’ bowed my head over it, still not ready to meet her eyes. “I’m okay, doll. We’re gonna get through this.”
She said, “Gary,” again, this time with an old fondness that I missed so bad it made my hands hurt, holding hers. I dared look up, to look into blue eyes that time hadn’t faded one bit, even if there were wrinkles around ‘em now and her blond hair had turned snow white. I’d been looking out through my other self’s eyes all this time, watching us growing old together again, but it wasn’t the same as looking at her myself. I wished I knew how Cernunnos had settled me into my own self’s head, and wondered what the devil had happened to my own old bones that had been riding with him for so long.
Wondering gave me a flash of mist an’ greenery, a cool breath of air like comin’ home, an’ then I knew and understood. I was resting somewhere else, safe in the land he called home, while my consciousness took the long way ‘round. More than that, I could feel my memories of riding with the Hunt settling into Tir na nOg’s earth, so that the weight of what I’d seen and how it might have changed me wouldn’t crush me. I’d been mostly immortal all that time, and now I was slipping back into mortal bones that weren’t ready to carry so much time or so many memories. I hadn’t known Horns could do that. ‘course, I didn’t know much about what gods could do, and didn’t figure on arguing with ‘em when they did it.
Annie said, “Gary,” again in that same voice, and I knew she was gonna tell me what she’d said to me the first time I’d gone through this, that there wasn’t any way through this one.
Only this time I said, “No.” Before she said anything else, I said, “No. We gotta talk, doll. We gotta think about what’s going on here, all right?”
She hesitated, then nodded. The doctor looked strained, but he got up when we did, offering support and sympathy, and encouraged Annie to start a drug regime right away. The prescriptions were waiting at the front desk. We picked ‘em up on the way out, and made it to a bench on the street before Annie had to sit down and say, “Gary,” again.
“Listen to me, doll.” I took her hands and kissed ‘em, trying not to tremble. It’d been four and a half years since I’d gotten to do that, by my count. “My girl.” I’d been using those words a lot lately, meaning Joanne, but they were Annie’s first. “I love you, darlin’. Don’t know that I’ve said that enough.”
Meeting her eyes, was hard. She was smiling, kinda sad and wry all at once. “You say it every day, Gary. How often do you think it needs to be said?”
“More.”
“Sweetheart.” She untangled her hands and put one against my cheek. “Saying it more often isn’t going to make this go away. But I love you too. You know that.”
“Yeah.” I’d gotten sloppy sentimental the first time we’d done this, too, but not the same way. I’d been reeling from the fear of losing her, then. Now I had her back, maybe not for long, but I had her and this time I knew what we were up against. “Annie, I’m gonna start talking and you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but you gotta hear me out, all right? I know you’re holding yourself together and looking calm so I’ll be all right, but don’t worry about me. I know you’re shaking and scared inside, but you gotta listen, just for a couple minutes. Can you do that for me?”
My girl took as deep a breath as she could without coughing, and nodded. “I was there when a lot of people got this same kind of bad news, Gary. I’m all right. Go ahead and say what you need to say.”
“Your Pop wasn’t crazy.”
That came from so far outta nowhere that for a split second she looked like I was crazy. Then she laughed, soft an’ breathless. “Thank goodness for a definite diagnosis, then. He’s been dead nearly thirty years, Gary. Why does it matter now?”
“We been through some strange stuff, haven’t we, sweetheart? We don’t talk about it much when it ain’t happening, and I guess it’s died down the older we got, but…we’ve seen things most folks wouldn’t reckon on being real, ain’t that right?”
Annie smiled like I was bringing up the good times. “I suppose we have, at that. I hadn’t thought about most of it in a long time. It seems like another life.” Her eyes got dark, like she was rememberin’ that pretty soon it would be another life.
I held her hands again, trying not to crush ‘em. “Your Pop wasn’t crazy, Annie. I was there the day that car almost hit you. Somebody did knock you outta the way. His name’s…well, I call him Horns, ‘cause his name’s a mouthful, but the way I see it, sweetheart, that’s where it all started.”
“You were there—” Annie wet her lips, then closed her eyes a minute. I could see her trying not to dismiss what I was saying outta hand, trying not to think I was crazy. After a bit, she said, “Let’s get my prescriptions and go home. We can discuss it there.”
She was quiet in the car, an’ I did my best to keep my mouth shut. Once we got home she had a look around like she’d never seen the place before. Committing it to memory, even if she was the one gonna leave. Then finally she came to sit, an’ said, real mild-like, “You were there. And you never thought to mentioned that before now?”
“Darlin, I didn’t…remember.” I sighed and sat too, rubbing my hands over my face. “You know how you an’ me, we remember different things happening at the same events? It’s like that’s happening inside my own head. There’re things it’s like I’m remembering twice, and one of those memories is seeing you by the roadside, an’ Horns comin’ down to tackle you outta the way.”
“Who is Horns?”
I recognized the voice she was using, and looked up with a little grin. “No going all Nurse Annie on me now, sweetheart. Will you trust me if I say it don’t matter who he is? That what matters is me knowing that day wasn’t an accident, an’ that your Pop wasn’t going crazy? He did see a guy on a silver horse come outta nowhere and knock you aside, an’ I can tell you that
the reason it happened, the reason any of this is happening, is because of the girl in that painting he did there at the end. Joanne. Joanne Walker. She’s a friend of mine, darling, or she will be, and she’s got magic like you wouldn’t believe.”
“She will be?”
There wasn’t no Nurse Annie in her voice anymore. It was just my girl sounding strained and about to break. I shut myself up and hugged her against me, wishing I’d known to shut up earlier. “Some of the things your pop saw were flashes of the future, huh? I got something like that going on right now too.”
Her silence said more than words, but after a minute she filled it with the words, too, soft an’ scared: “Do you know what’s going to happen to me?”
“Yeah,” I said, and for the first time in my life, deliberately lied to the woman I loved. “You’re gonna be fine, sweetheart. This stupid thing is just gonna turn out to be another scare, like all the other crap that’s almost gotten us through the years. An’ that’s what it is, Annie.” I wasn’t lying, now, and that helped sell the part that was a lie. “It ain’t sickness, not the way the doctors can recognize. I guess we always knew there were monsters out there. This one’s just comin’ at you the best way it knows how.”
“We’ve met monsters,” Annie whispered. “They’re not subtle, Gary. Why is this one? Hiding itself in sickness instead of fighting red in tooth and claw?”
“Ain’t the first time it’s tried sickness against you, sweetheart.”
“Maybe not, but even the fever was carried by a monster. We saw it. We fought it. How can this have come from nowhere?”
I sat up straighter, still holding her but with my heart pickin’ up speed. “I reckon it couldn’t have. This things come on fast, sweetheart. Who’s new in your life the last couple months?”
“For Heaven’s sake, Garrison Muldoon,” she said, prim as a school teacher, “you sound like you’re asking if I’m having an affair. There was a new optometrist for my annual eye examination, two new booths at the farmers’ market, a new gardener for our yard and a new yoga teacher at the studio. And I’m sure I speak to a dozen or so strangers every day, including that young doctor today. You can’t possibly imagine—” She got breathless instead of indignant and collapsed against me, coughing until tears stained my shirt. Finally, a whole lot more softly, she finished, “You can’t imagine we can sort through every person I’ve met in the last two months to determine who may be hiding a demon inside. And why me, if this Joanne Walker is a friend of yours? Maybe I should be asking you if you’re having an affair.”
I chuckled. “I wasn’t askin’ you that to begin with, an’ from what I’m seeing of the future, the girl is too tall an’ too young for me anyway. I got what I want right here. Always have. And the reason why you is simple, sweetheart. Real evil don’t bother going after us. It goes after the folks we love.”
“How do we fight it?”
I wasted half a breath wishing I still had Jo’s magic Sight, then let it go. “We start by assuming it ain’t any of the grocery store checkers or the guy who pumps your gas, or any of the other folks you only have a passing acquaintance with. How much time you been spending at the farmers’ market and talkin’ to the new gardener? You go to yoga all the time.”
Annie’s laugh wheezed in her chest. “You could make an argument for the new teacher being evil, I suppose. She’s very young and very flexible. None of the old ladies like her.”
“Sure, doll, but do you?”
She laughed again, stronger this time, and coughed because of it. “I’m an old lady too, but you still know how to charm a girl. Yoga’s a spiritual practice as much as exercise, Gary. Surely a practitioner couldn’t be evil…?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Seems to me everybody’s got potential to go bad. Being spiritual don’t always mean being good.”
“Then I suppose we should…what does one say? ‘Hello, Darina, class on Wednesday was excellent and it’s lovely to see you again, by the way, have you put a killing hex on me?’”
“No, we gotta—” I spent another half a breath wishing on Joanne’s magic, then let the rest of that breath out and risked playing heavy on future memories. “We gotta find somebody who can tell by looking at ‘em. There’s a lady here in Seattle, a woman whose name I heard a while back. Sonata Smith. She’s a medium, but she’s got connections. Maybe she’ll know somebody who can help us.”
It was true, kinda. Me and Jo had met Sonny maybe six months ago, from the direction I was coming from. It was more like four years from now in the direction Annie was looking at it, but I figured if there was ever a time to play fast and loose with the truth, it was now. Annie didn’t need to know just how much future-flashing I was talking about, and we’d use up all the time she had left if I had to explain it all anyway.
“Don’t we know anyone? I know it’s been a long time, but…”
“But you don’t like presuming on strangers. I know, darlin’, but I don’t figure we do. Closest we ever came to belonging to some kinda magic underground was New Orleans, I reckon, don’t you?”
For a minute she didn’t look sick anymore, her whole face lighting up with a smile. “Well, if you hadn’t played that jazz riff—”
“How many times I gotta tell you, I was just tryin’ ta make that raven sing, is all. How was I s’posed ta know it was gonna open up a door to somewhere else?”
Annie kissed me like she always did when that jazz riff came up, murmuring, “Open here I flung the shutter, Gary. Of course it opened a door.”
“Hrmph.” I tugged her close again to talk against her hair. “Point is, sweetheart, maybe we came close down there in the South, but up here we’ve never been part of that scene. We only ever dealt with what came our way. Never went looking for any of it, like some folks do. So I think we gotta ask for help this time. Lemme give this Smith lady a call, see if she can send somebody around who can read auras.”
“Auras?”
“Souls. Everybody’s soul’s got energy, doll, doncha figure? Good energy, bad energy, and there’s folks out there who can tell which is which.”
Annie got a funny little frown, her eyebrows wrinkling together as she looked at me. “Where did you pick up on something like that, Gary?”
“Aww, sweetheart, you know how it is. Old dogs got a lotta tricks.” I’d used that answer with Jo a bunch of times. Felt strange using it on Annie. “You sit tight. I’ll see if her number’s in the book.” If it wasn’t, I’d been to Sonny’s house, but explaining that one away was more than I wanted to try. Lucky for me, Sonny was listed, and I gave her a call half-expecting to get an answering machine.
Instead she picked up on the second ring, sayin’, “Hello?” in the same dryly competent voice I remembered from her. It kinda threw me, knowing she hadn’t met me yet, and I spent a couple seconds fumbling an’ stuttering. Her voice got amused: “Yes, this is Sonata Smith, and yes, I am a medium. I do communicate with the dead. Don’t worry. I won’t think you’re embarrassing yourself with whatever request it is you have, nor,” an’ she kept the same amused tone but steel slipped into it, “nor will I hesitate to send a haunting your way if this should be another practical joker.”
That bit made me laugh. I cleared my throat, promisin’, “No, no, darlin’, no practical jokes. I ain’t sure you’re the type to really send ghosts after somebody even if it was.”
“Oh, probably not, but you never know.” She sounded less dangerous then, like I’d passed some kinda test. “But how do you know anything about me at all?”
“Got your name from a friend, is all. Look, my name’s Gary, and I’m sorry for callin’ like this, outta the blue, but—”
“But you have someone you’d like to speak with, someone who’s crossed over,” she said gently, like she was takin’ the difficulty of saying it away from me.
I chuckled. “No, ma’am, I’m afraid not. I just thought if you were the real deal you might be able to help me out with somethin’ else. I need—” My hear
t slipped all of a sudden, missing beats and feeling like it’d fallen a couple miles down my chest. Jo wasn’t ready to heal anybody yet, but she’d said something once about meeting a bunch of dead shamans after her magic had woke up. They’d been Seattle shamans, an’ right now they weren’t dead yet. I didn’t hardly recognize my own voice, it got so tight and twisted with hope. “I’m looking for a shaman, ma’am. Somebody who can read auras and heal folks. My wife’s sick, see.”
Sonny Smith’s voice got even gentler. “I have some people I can introduce you to, but some illnesses can’t be healed, Mr…Gary. Gary,” she said again, like she was fixing it in her mind that I hadn’t said my last name.
I wasn’t gonna, either, ‘cause she was sharp as tacks, and I didn’t want her putting me together with the cabbie driving Joanne Walker around a few years down the road. I reckoned she wouldn’t, ‘cause she hadn’t, but I wasn’t gonna risk it. I already didn’t know why I didn’t remember talking to her, having this conversation, but either I’d been watching some kinda parallel world version of me all these years, or my memory wasn’t half as reliable as I thought it was. I couldn’t figure on the parallel world idea being true, not if I was still the same fella who’d left Joanne a while back and was looking to try an’ save my wife, and as far as I could tell, I was. So I was betting on my memory failing me, and didn’t wanna think about how or why that was gonna happen.
“Gary?” Sonata sounded real sympathetic, like she’d delivered bad news and was expecting me to be reeling from it. “I wish I could say otherwise, but it’s better to have realistic expectations.”
“No, ma’am, it’s fine, I got realistic expectations. I knew a lady shaman once, so I figure my expectations are realistic enough to be worth trying. Thanks for the warning, though. Do you know anybody?”
“I do. Auras as well as healing, you said? I’ll send the strongest aura reader I know.”