by Jon Steele
When the farmer passed, they continued along the road till they were west of the peak of Saint-Barthélemy. They left the road and took a hiking trail through the forest. The trail rose at a gentle grade at first, then began to climb above the tree line, where they crossed over a rocky ridge then descended again into forest. It was crossing the first ridge that they stepped through the sharp rays of the rising sun, and crossing the second ridge they stopped to watch the light of the sun race over the land like an awakening thing.
By ten o’clock, they reached a small shelter next to an alpine lake above the tree line. The shallows at the bank had iced over during the night, but the ice was thin, like a hint of winter’s approach. They dropped their backpacks, broke through the ice, and drank deeply. The water was pure and cold. They washed their faces and hands. Goose opened his backpack and found a pack of high-protein biscuits. They sat on the wooden bench and rested their backs against the already warm stone of the shelter. The sun beat down on their faces. As they ate, a small brown shuffle wing landed at their feet to collect any crumbs that might fall.
“And what are you doing here, with winter coming soon? You should be nesting farther down, near the trees. We have no food for you here.”
The little brown bird hopped on its legs, back and forth before them.
“I believe he has us trapped, Goose. We must surrender.”
Goose laughed. And this time he let an audible sound escape his mouth. He broke off a piece of the biscuit and tossed it to the ground. The shuffle wing quickly picked it up and flew away and down below the ridge. Goose looked to the west and north to check the sky. He signed, The weather is good, and looks like it will hold.
“So far we’re lucky. If we reach Heaven’s Gate before it turns, then we’ll reveal the prophecy to the world.”
II
KATHERINE CLOSED HER CLOAK OVER HER FLANNEL PAJAMAS AND put on her fuzzy slippers. She opened the sliding glass doors of the sitting room, stepped quietly onto the patio. Officer Jannsen was still standing in the shadows of the back garden. Katherine spotted her from the bedroom window, drying herself after a long hot bath, and she thought it odd. The back garden lights were always burning at the perimeter, lighting up the trees from sundown to sunup. But just now, the lights were off. Maybe that’s why Anne was out there, Katherine thought, seeing what’s wrong. She was on the phone, talking to Control most likely and getting it fixed according to her usual “I want it done now!” Katherine laughed to herself thinking how “Ich will es jetzt getan!” sounded so much more kick-ass in German. Then again, everything in German sounded that way. Cripes sake, sometimes even a hearty “Guten morgen, Fräulein!” from one of the Swiss Guard boys sounded more like, “Attention, the sun has risen and you are ordered to have a nice day!”
She watched Officer Jannsen close her cell phone, snap it to her belt, stand there. The lights stayed off. That’s when Katherine noticed Officer Jannsen wasn’t looking at the trees, counting the seconds till the lights would kick on; she was looking at the stars. Stepping onto the lawn and moving quietly toward Officer Jannsen, Katherine caught the bodyguard’s Chanel perfume six meters away. She reached out her hand to touch Officer Jannsen’s shoulder . . . There was a blur, then the barrel of a Glock pointing at Katherine’s right eye.
“Jesus!”
Officer Jannsen lowered the gun. “Kat . . . what are you doing down here?”
“What am I . . . What do you mean, what am I doing here? I live here. And how the hell did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Move like that.”
“Lots of training.”
“That wasn’t fucking training, girl, that was a special effect.”
Officer Jannsen holstered her weapon.
“Is Max all right?”
“Sleeping like a . . . Jesus, why did you draw your weapon on me?”
Officer Jannsen smiled.
“I heard you coming.”
“Walking on the grass. You heard me walking on the grass.”
“It’s harder to walk quietly on grass than bricks. That and the air pressure.”
“What?”
“You were moving toward me, creating a wave of air ahead of you.”
Katherine stared at her. “Are you all right?”
“Oui, pourquoi?”
“Because you’re acting weird. The Swiss Guard boys, I understand; they were born that way, but you’re supposed to be normal.”
Officer Jannsen looked at her watch.
“It’s almost eleven. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”
“I was on my way, but I saw you from my window. Thought I’d come see what’s up. By the way, what happened to the lights?”
“I’ve got one of the squads conducting night vision drills in the woods. I’m keeping the lights off for the night.”
“Ah.”
“Ah what?”
“Huh?”
“You’re thinking something, Kat. What is it?”
“Nothing. It just looked like something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like you looking at the stars and thinking.”
Officer Jannsen smiled.
“I was, actually.”
“So, what were you thinking?”
“Nothing.”
Katherine looked at her, her eyes then sinking to the Glock on her hip. “You’re kind of scary tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because the first thing you thought of, after you were thinking about nothing, was killing.”
“That’s what happens when you sneak up on someone who’s been trained to kill. I’ve told you before, don’t do that sort of thing. Not to me, not to any member of the protection detail.”
Katherine shrugged. “Okay. Sorry to bother you. Good night.”
She turned, walked toward the house.
“Kat, wait.”
Katherine turned back. “What?”
“Have you had your tea for the night?”
“Yup. But to be perfectly frank, I could use another blast after having a friggin’ gun shoved in my face.”
Officer Jannsen stepped close to Katherine.
“How would you like to try it again?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Well, I will go inside and put on the kettle . . .”
“. . . and I’ll grab a couple of lounge chairs from the patio . . .”
“. . . make us both a cup of tea . . .”
“. . . and I’ll get some blankets . . .”
“. . . we’ll meet back here in ten minutes.”
“Deal.”
And in ten minutes, they were tucked in blankets on the lounge chairs, sipping cups of tea.
“How long will the boys be out there?”
“All night.”
“Poor them.”
“It’s their job. Besides, they’re boys, they like to rough it up now and again.”
Katherine snickered. “They’re not the only ones.”
“What?”
“Nothing, I was joking. Almost.”
Katherine sat back in the chair, looked into the night sky.
“Wow, look at all the stars.”
“It’s a new moon tonight.”
“You know, I never understood that one. Why do they call it a ‘new moon’ when there’s no moon?”
“It marks the beginning of the lunar cycle when the moon is in the shadow of the Earth.”
“That is such a Swiss cop answer. The facts, ma’am, just the facts. I know, why not call it a ‘shadow moon’?”
Officer Jannsen sipped her tea.
“That’s a good name, actually.”
They sat quietly, watching the sky, only speaking when a shooting star crossed the sky; once, then again.
“Wow, look at that. It’s a shooting star. The aliens are restless tonight.”
“There’s another one.”
“Make a wish.”
Katherine sipped her tea, curled on her side.
“Can I ask you something, Anne?”
“Of course.”
“Do you think I should have Max baptized?”
“What?”
“You know, baptized. Have a priest splash him with water, make the sign of the cross over him, make him part of the club.”
“Your family is Christian?”
“Oh yeah. And not just Christian, but Catholic. Big time. You?”
“My parents weren’t believers.”
“They were atheists?”
“No, they just didn’t believe in the religions of men.”
“So what did they believe in?”
Officer Jannsen looked back to the stars.
“All that.”
“Outer space?”
Officer Jannsen started to giggle, then she laughed.
“What? What did I say?” Katherine said.
“‘Outer space.’ That is so American.”
“What’s wrong with American stuff? Where would the world be without hamburgers, Coca-Cola, and rock and roll?”
“I don’t mean it in a bad way. It wasn’t even an American who coined the expression ‘outer space.’ It was an English poet.”
“Really?”
“Lady Emmeline Stuart-Wortley, 1841, in ‘The Maiden of Moscow.’”
Katherine giggled. “Emmeline Stuart-Wortley. That’s right up there with Corporal Sebastianus Fassnacht.”
“But not quite as bad as Herr Alexander von Humboldt.”
“Who?”
“A Prussian astronomer. He was the first one to use ‘outer space’ in a scientific context. And then, of course, it was H. G. Wells who made it really popular in 1901 with The First Men in the Moon.”
Katherine shook her head.
“Jeez, the stuff you have crammed in your head would fill the Grand Canyon.”
“Merci, madame, I think.”
“No, really. It’s something.”
“I don’t think I’m much different from you.”
“Trust me, babe, you’re way different from me.”
Officer Jannsen looked at Katherine.
“You’d be surprised.”
“Oh? You got a secret hooker past I don’t know about?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Well, to begin with, we’re both madly in love with a boy named Max.”
“This is true.”
Officer Jannsen sipped her tea.
“That really was a wonderful story you told Max tonight, Kat.”
“It was fun. And it helped.”
“How?”
“Because for the first time, I could see the good stuff about what happened to me in Lausanne. Hiding in the tower with Marc, becoming part of his imaginary world. It was a gift. And tonight, telling my story to Max, I felt . . . free . . . from fear. I mean, the fear’s there, it always will be. But now I know there’s something stronger than the fear. I don’t know what it is, but I saw it in Max’s eyes while telling him the story. It’s like he understood, like he already knew.”
“Knew what, Kat?”
Katherine bit her lip.
“What is it?”
“Well, after what happened in Portland, I’m a little scared to say.”
“Go ahead.”
“I was thinking, telling Max the story, that there really are angels . . . maybe. We just can’t see them. That’s what I thought in the cathedral, and here I am, passing the thought to him. It was kinda comforting.”
Officer Jannsen smiled.
“I knew it,” Katherine said. “You’re going to call the shrink, get my medication adjusted.”
“Not at all.”
“Then why are you smiling? And tell me the truth, I’ve gotten very good at spotting your fibs.”
“What are flibs?”
“Fibs, not flibs. It’s lying, but not the kind you tell to hurt someone.”
“Eine Notlüge.”
“What’s that?”
“A white lie.”
“That’s it. And stop beating around the bush trying to come up with an answer.”
“What answer?”
“To what you’re smiling about. Spit it out, now.”
Officer Jannsen laughed.
“Well, I was just thinking, das ist es.”
“That means that is it.”
“Bravo, Kat.”
“Bull, and what do you mean, das ist es, Frau Blücher?”
“Who?”
“Dr. Frankenstein’s girlfriend.”
“There was no girlfriend in the book.”
“I’m talking movie.”
Officer Jannsen took a moment to remember.
“But there was no girlfriend in the movie.”
“Not the movie with Boris Karloff, I’m talking the Gene Wilder version. Young Frankenstein.”
“Are you sure about this, Kat?”
“Do not question me about movies. I’d clean up on Jeopardy in that category. We can rent it on Netflix if you want some proof that I’m not completely nuts. And you’re still avoiding the answer to the question.”
Officer Jannsen scratched her head.
“I can’t remember the question.”
Katherine leaned toward her, caught another blast of Chanel.
“Why? Were you? Smiling at me?”
“Ah. Because you said something that made me think how much alike we are.”
“I did?”
“You did,” Officer Jannsen said.
“What did I say?”
“That there are angels, maybe. We just can’t see them. It’s a nice thought, really.”
Katherine stared at Officer Jannsen.
“So you’re a sucker for fairy tales, too, huh?”
“Isn’t everybody?”
Katherine’s eyes lost focus for a half a second.
“Kat?”
Katherine shook her head, looked at Officer Jannsen.
“What did you say?”
“You said, ‘You’re a sucker for fairy tales’; I said, ‘Isn’t everybody?’”
“That’s right. Must have had déjà vu. Always weird when that happens.”
“What was it?”
“Someone, a guy. I was talking to him about fairy tales.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. And you know how déjà vu is. Like playing hide-and-seek in the dark with your eyes closed. This guy’s there, and not there . . .”
“. . . at the same time.”
Katherine’s eyes lit up.
“Nail on the head. And it’s always the same. Someone says something, or I think of something, and I can almost see him. If I could only remember his friggin’ name, I’d see him. I’m sure of it.”
“Is it happening a lot, the déjà vu?”
“Oh, God, please don’t analyze me.”
“I’m just asking.”
“No such thing as ‘just asking’ for a cop.”
“I’m off duty for the moment.”
“You are?”
“Forwarded my phone over to Control for a few hours.”
“You shut off your cell phone?”
“I told you. I wanted to look at the stars tonight.”
“They allow you to do that?”
“Look at the stars?”
“No, shut off your phone. What if the big bad wolf shows up in search of fair maidens while they sleep.”
“What?”
“I’m trying to keep with the wh
ole fairy tale motif we’ve got going,” Katherine said.
“In that case, the big bad wolf would find the house to be surrounded by a tactical unit of the Swiss Guard and end up with its testicles nailed to a tree.”
“Ouch.”
“Genau.”
“What’s that?”
“German.”
“For what?”
“Exactement.”
“So why didn’t you say so?”
“I was trying to keep up with you in the fairy tale department.”
“Huh?”
“The Brothers Grimm were German.”
“That’s right, I remember. Had all the books when I was a girl . . . ‘Rumpelstiltskin.’”
“‘Rumpelstilzchen.’”
“‘The Frog Prince.’”
“‘Der Froschkönig.’”
“Snow White.”
“‘Schneewittchen.’”
“What?”
“‘Snow White,’ ‘Schneewittchen.’”
“No way.”
“If it makes you feel any better, ‘Cinderella’ is ‘Cinderella.’”
“Oh, that’s okay then.”
“Ich danke ihen sehr.”
They were quiet a moment.
“Anne?”
“Yes, Kat?”
“Can I kiss you?”
SEVENTEEN