“Yes,” he answered simply.
“Have you and she ever... I mean, is there... has there ever been anything between you two?” She asked remembering his comments about his virginity.
“Yes and no,” he told her. “We had an hour or so. It was... disappointing.”
“Really?” Maureen was truly shocked. “She must be crazy.
“Or I am,” he added.
“Have you ever been happy?” She asked him.
“No. I have been... content.”
“Cows are contented!” She told him and looked at him a bit too long and took another tour through the grass on the side of the road. She jerked the wheel again and sloshed the wine on his jeans.
“Ooops.” He looked down at his lap.
She pulled a wad of tissues from a box on the console to hand them to him.
“I don’t think cows are content, Maureen,” he told her. “But I suppose if I were a cow, a little sweet grass and warm sunshine would make me content.”
“You’ve had too much alcohol, Perry,” she laughed. “I don’t know if it’s my lack of intelligence or if you are really not making sense.”
“You are most likely right,” he agreed. “It is hard to make sense when one has none. It is pointless to be pointless.”
“See what I mean?” She shook her head and slowed to make a U-turn in the highway.
“But I don’t want to go home,” he protested. “I am really enjoying your company and I don’t want to make sense.”
Billy Johnson sat on the concrete embankment overlooking the dam where the flood gates were half opened. Great gushers of brown water flowed through the gates under terrific pressure from the lake above into the river below. Tremendous swirls roared between the pylons and reinforced banks. He had driven up to the dam to get away from everything for a while. His small bass boat was attached to the back of his truck that now sat near the sloping boat ramp. He turned up the Miller light and finished off the last bit of beer and foam in the flimsy can before crushing it in his fist. He rubbed one big hand over the middle of his chest remembering the terrible fear he had felt the night before. It was unforgettable. It was the worst scare he’d ever had in his life. What the hell had happened? He remembered nothing from the time he saw the two Aliger brothers standing in Sam’s garage doorway until he had awakened on Sam’s sofa. Sam had gone completely crazy, running around with his pistol and threatening to kill himself. Billy had been horrified. If Sam had made good his threat, there would have been no doubt who would have been blamed for his death. It was the second time in less than a week that he’d been truly scared out of his wits and both times Perry Aliger had been there. He didn’t like it at all and he liked Perry Aliger even less. He had no doubt that Aliger had caused him to have the heart attack and then had saved his life. He remembered Perry talking to him as he lay on the floor of the garage after he’d fallen. Sam had told him some hair-brained story about the stupid little boxes and had tried to tell him that he was going to die and then had blamed the whole thing on him, Billy Johnson! He sat thinking about all the weird things Mike Padgett had told him. But Mike was throwed off. He wanted to get even with Perry Aliger and his damned brother somehow, but he was truly afraid of them. He had never been afraid of anything or any man in his life.
Now here he sat. He couldn’t even put his boat in the water. Not with the dam opened. Not without driving another twenty miles around to the other side of the lake to the lakeside ramp. No one was around and he felt lonely and depressed... again. The sound of a car door slamming caught his attention above the roar of the water. He turned to see who had come to the parking lot and could not believe his eyes.
Maureen Fitzgerald had pulled up next to the concrete block building housing the picnic area’s big restroom facility. She was on the far side of her car apparently struggling to get someone out of the passenger seat. Billy sat perfectly still, waiting to see what was going on. He was shocked again when he recognized Perry Aliger as the object of her struggle. She got him to stand against the side of the car and balanced him while she closed the door. Billy got up and made his way around the edge of the parking lot keeping out of sight until he could hear them.
“Perry?” Maureen pulled on his arm. “Perry come on now. I can’t carry you. You got to help me.”
Perry held his stomach and looked very sick. He did not want to throw up as she called it. He had seen it done by others on more than one occasion and it had looked most unpleasant. Maureen took him by the hand and dragged him toward the building.
Billy ducked back out of sight and waited. Maybe this would be his chance. He couldn’t believe his luck. It was a small world, wasn’t it? And surely Sam would appreciate this. What was he doing out here this far from town with Maureen? And what was wrong with him?
“There’s a bathroom in there,” Maureen told him. “I can’t go in with you. I’ll wait for you by the car.”
“Maureen.” He looked at her almost desperately. “I don’t want to do this.”
“It’s not a matter of wanting to,” she told him. “Now go on and get it over with.”
“Maureen.” He looked at the dark entrance and was gripped by an inexplicable fear. “I don’t want to go in there.”
“You better go on in there.” She had to keep from smiling. “You don’t want to be sick out here. Not in front of me, OK?”
“OK,” he muttered and let go of her hand and went inside the smelly building.
It was awful and to make matters worse the place was a wreck and he didn’t help it’s condition at all. At first he thought he would die outright, but then he seemed to feel better. A feeling of relief swept over him and he thought this was another one of those non-emotional almost pleasant experiences. Throwing up was so terrible and terrifying and then it was such a relief when it was over. He was glad she had made him go inside, but he wanted to get out in a hurry. He was still afraid. There was one faucet working and he splashed some water in his face and felt even better until he sensed someone standing behind him. The mirror had been torn from the wall. He turned slowly to see Billy Johnson grinning at him. At first, he thought it was a hallucination, but when Billy grabbed a handful of blonde hair and slammed him against the concrete wall, he knew it was real. Perry bounced off and fell sitting on the floor as brilliant colors swam in front of his eyes, momentarily putting him in mind of the kaleidoscope, but this was not near as pleasing.
Billy leaned over to look at him. “That was for Sam Morris. This one is for me.”
He picked him up by his throat and punched him in his now empty stomach and then let him fall down again. Perry did not have time to react before he picked him up again and what followed was an incomprehensible series of punches, kicks and jolts until he closed his eyes one last time and did not open them again until he heard Maureen’s almost hysterical voice.
“Maureen?” He asked and opened his eyes slightly. It was dim and cool and he did not want to move just yet.
“Who did it?” She leaned into his face. “I didn’t see anyone!”
“He was right here,” he told her. His head pounded and it hurt to breath.
“No,” she answered. “No one is here. Was it Sam?”
“No,” he tried to shake his head. A mistake as blue sparks danced between his eyes and hers.
“Who then?” She asked and pressed a cool cloth to his head. It felt bad and good at the same time.
“Let me rest a bit,” he told her and proceeded to do just that without her consent. Wherever he was, it was not the smelly concrete building. He wondered how Maureen had managed to get him out of the horrid little place. His made a tremendous effort to check for his clothes and was relieved to find he still wore some.
Maureen raised his head and stuffed a pillow under it.
“Perry?” She shook his shoulder. “Do you want me to go get Angelica or Fred?”
“No!” He said without opening his eyes. “What time is it?”
“Two thirty
.”
“Give me three hours,” he told her. “That should be long enough.”
“Then what?” She asked.
“Go on and do your shopping,” he mumbled. “Wake me up at five thirty and take me home.”
Maureen leaned to kiss his forehead in one of the only spots not bruised or scraped.
“For someone who hob-nobs with Angels, you really need to considered hiring one on as a guardian,” she told him, but he did not hear her.
Falco threw his bag in the back of the Navigator and slammed the hatch.
“Where do you think he went?” He asked Angelica who stood silently watching him.
“It’s difficult to know what he does,” she told him. “He seems to be in pain. I haven’t been able to read his thoughts lately and especially since you arrived. He did allow me to do so earlier this morning. And it seems he is open to me now, but I believe that wherever he is, he is asleep or he has traveled quite some distance from here.”
“He has allowed you to trace him?” Falco found it hard to believe. He would never have allowed her to do that to him.
“Yes, but I know now that he only allowed me limited access to his thoughts.” She looked down at the ground. She did not like talking to the Primus about Peregrin and he knew it.
“I suppose he had to do that or else you would have become suspicious of him right away.” Falco ignored her discomfiture at first and then a sudden thought struck him. “Would you like to link with me? I would be honored to have you keep in touch.”
“No!” She said too quickly. The effect would work both ways. At least, this way, she knew that he would soon be too far away to listen in on her thoughts. She felt her face flush as she realized he was listening to her thoughts even now. “I’m sorry, Primus. I’m just not ready... yet. The thought of two of you listening to me is most distressing.”
“I understand,” he said although he didn’t.
“Angelica.” He turned to look back at her before he got into the vehicle. “Promise me that you will not leave this place until I return.”
“When will you be back?” She asked and felt her cheeks burn.
“Tuesday night.” He smiled at her.
“Then you are not going to attend the convention?” She asked more timidly than before.
“No,” he answered. “I am going to try to contact your father and find out from him what is going on with the Primus.”
With that final statement he got into the Navigator and left her standing on the sidewalk. His parting words rang in her ears. He would meet with her father? This was most distressing. But she had no time and no desire to think of it. She went back upstairs to the computer and logged onto the internet. She had research to do. Dinner was set. All she needed to do was study. A very unfamiliar sensation overwhelmed her as she thought of Peregrin’s return. It almost felt like something alive was in her stomach. A fluttery feeling as if some sort of winged creatures were flying about inside her. It was a fleeting sensation and then was gone. She got up to find a leftover bagel and put it in the toaster. Perhaps she needed something to eat. As she waited for the bagel to brown, she thought about the last time she had seen Falco. He had been in Rome masquerading as a Roman senator just before the assassination of Julius Caesar. He had summoned her to join him at his villa from her studies of the tribes inhabiting the Carpathian Mountains. He had told her then that she would soon have to complete her studies and accompany him back to the center to her father’s home. Had the time arrived so soon? Would she be leaving with him at her father’s bidding? What would happen to Peregrin Caelum if she left him? But hadn’t Peregrin told her that she would have to go home after this study was complete? She vaguely wondered if she could somehow prolong the study then quickly squashed the thought. Falco was not far enough away yet to risk thinking such things. She re-focused on her computer.
Samuel Morris Jr. sat on his deck wearing only a pair of hiking shorts and a frown. He held a bottle of Michelob in one hand and a flyswatter in the other. He stared intently at the cedar railing in front of him. He had been swatting the flies that landed there one at a time for over an hour. The lush green foliage of his backyard sloped toward a small branch at the back of his property. Billy Johnson had reappeared like a recurring nightmare. The story that he told with such great relish had made Sam literally sick... again. He couldn’t believe the luck of some people! How had he fallen into this strange alliance with an idiot like Billy Johnson? He didn’t want to see him. It reminded him of the night before. And now what had the doofus done? Gone off and beat the crap out of Perry Aliger! What sort of retaliatory measures would Billy’s latest actions bring on their heads? He was glad in one way that Billy had come to tell him about it, but did not know what, if anything, he should do about it.
“What do you think you’ve accomplished now?” He asked glumly. “What do you think will happen? Surely they will be back to do something even worse to us.”
“Bullshit!” Billy spat tobacco juice over the railing into the back yard directly onto Sam's birdbath. He was obviously on his way to getting rip-roaring drunk after his 'success'. His fear of the Aliger brothers and any subsequent actions they might take had faded with each successive swallow of Jack Daniels he had taken. Billy was now quite convinced that the entire episode that had occurred in Sam’s garage had been just a fluke.
“Hell, man!” Sam looked at him in dismay. “They nearly killed both of us last night in case you don’t remember and they didn’t even touch us. And now, instead of being thankful for what I did for you, you asswipe, you sit there gloating over having made it worse.”
“He deserved what he got,” Billy told him and turned up his bottle to take another shot. “I don’t believe none of that bullshit about them boxes and you’re a fool if you do.”
“If you were going to be so stupid,” Sam shook his head. “You should have gone ahead and killed him because you’ve probably killed both of us now. Sort of like wounding a grizzly bear, you know?”
“A grizzly bear!” Billy laughed. “If I didn't know better, Junior, I'd think you was serious! You should have seen him. Looked more like a dancin’ bear to me. He went down like a rock. He didn’t even put up a fight. But you ought to know! I heard you decked him yourself.”
“I think we may have both been very lucky,” Sam said thoughtfully as he got up to swat a particularly fat fly with a gleaming iridescent body.
“He might have brainwashed you, Mr. Morris,” Billy told him and leaned back to prop his boots on the rail. “I ain’t goin’ for that Voodoo bull. I heard of that kind of stuff before. Mind over matter they call it. Now I don’t really know what happened here last night, but maybe I did have a slight bit of a problem, but it sure didn’t come from no magic box. Didn’t see no lightnin’ bolts and didn’t hear no Angels singin’. I ain’t felt nothin’ but good today. Specially when I smashed his purty face. You know his blood is almost the same color as his eyes? Aint’ that funny? I can tell you another thing about him too. He can’t hold his liquor atall. He puked up his toenails and then I shoved ’em back down his throat. Teach him to go messin’ around with Maureen. I felt like I owed you that much, Mr. Morris. Course I got a lot of good outta it myself.”
Sam wished he would just shut up. He shivered involuntarily and took a swallow of his warm beer. He wondered if Maureen would keep their date. He wondered why she had been up at the dam with a drunk Perry Aliger. He wondered where she was now. He wondered when Billy would leave. He got up and went into the house to get another beer and picked up the phone to punch in her number angrily. He hoped she would be there... alone.
A persistent noise made its way insidiously into Perry’s mind as he lay sleeping on Maureen’s sofa. He subconsciously identified the noise as a ringing telephone. He reached out one hand to find the offending object and picked it up. The ringing stopped. He put the receiver to his ear and winced as he found a sore spot on the side of his head.
“Hello?” He whispered in
the phone.
“Who is this?” An angry voice demanded to know.
Several things happened at once as Perry realized that he had made a serious faux pas by answering a phone that was not his. He tried to sit up too quick and set off a cascading series of pains that started at the top of his head and ended somewhere near his toes. The phone fell to the floor from his hand as he tried grab several points of interest at the same time. When he had finally rolled over and sat up to retrieve the phone, it was buzzing. He punched several buttons and finally got it turned off and put it back in its cradle. The phone began to ring again immediately and he let it ring. The answering machine kicked in after five rings and the voice of Maureen Fitzgerald announced that she was not at home. The caller began his message.
Sam couldn’t believe it.
“Maureen! Pick up the damned phone! I know you’re there!” After a few seconds of silence, his voice took on a more conciliatory tone. “Maureen, I know you’re there. I’m not mad at you. Pick up the phone please. I just want to see if you are all right.”
Sam let go a sigh and hung up the phone.
“Maybe you called the wrong number the first time,” Billy suggested from the door behind him.
“He may be right, Sammy,” Mildred Morris said as she appeared from the kitchen wiping her hands on a dish towel. She glared at Billy Johnson. Why was that big clod here again upsetting Sammy?
Sam rolled his eyes.
“I’m not a fool Mother,” he said and fell sitting on the sofa. He was tired of her and Billy. He just wanted to be alone to nurse his wounded pride and he didn’t want a meddlesome audience. “I pushed redial the second time. Bingo! Her answering machine comes on. Give me a break!”
Billy tromped through the living room to pick up a Sports Illustrated from the coffee table.
Sam suddenly got up and went to the curving stairway leading upstairs. He took the stairs two at a time.
“I’m going to Maureen’s house,” he called over his shoulder. “We’re going to get this straight once and for all.”
The Pandora Effect Page 54