Mad Love (27 page)

I started toward my mother’s room, then, remembering she’d been moved to a shared room, I changed direction. Errol followed me down the dark hallway. Emergency ceiling lights, small and dim, marked each room like dots on a map. I couldn’t remember the room number but I recognized the roommate’s family photos. The beds were neatly made, the bathroom tidy. My mother’s bathrobe and slippers were missing. “Why would she go out in a storm?” I asked. Was it some crazy hallucination? Some kind of manic urge to collect pinecones or fallen leaves? “The medicine is supposed to be working. What is she doing?”

Errol looked out the window toward the forest. Raindrops rolled down the panes. “She’s looking for something,” he said quietly.

A nurse entered, teary eyed and wringing her hands. I recognized her from previous visits. “I’m so sorry,” she told me. “It’s all my fault. I was on duty and I should have noticed her leaving. But one minute she was talking about her next book, and then she was gone. She went out the emergency exit. Our alarms don’t work when the power’s out.”

For a moment I held my breath. “She was talking about her next book?”

“I’m such a big fan. I’ve read all her books. And I was so happy when she started talking to me this morning. She said she was going to write a book about the lumber baron. She said she’d been looking at his portrait every day and she felt like his love story needed to be told. She asked me to get her a spiral notebook, so I did.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“She said that she hated the ending to the lumber baron’s story and that she was going to change it and give him a happy ending. When I left to check on other patients, she was writing in the notebook.”

I looked around. “Where is it?”

The nurse shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she took it with her.” A pager buzzed at the nurse’s waist. “I’d better go.” She hurried from the room.

“Oh my God, I know what my mother is doing,” I said as Errol sat on the bed. The words flew from my mouth, my lips barely able to keep up. “She’s doing research for her story. The lumber baron’s wife went for a walk during a storm, right here on this property. That’s what my mother’s doing. She’s doing research, seeing what the forest is like during a storm, seeing the scene from the wife’s point of view. That’s why she’s out there.”

“That makes sense.” His voice was quiet. I moved close to him, trying to get a better view of his face in the dim light. His upper lip was sweaty and his breathing quick. He suddenly grimaced, as if someone had stabbed him.

“You should have stayed home,” I said. “You should be resting.”

“I’m sick of resting. I’m sick of being sick.”

I sat next to him. “We can go to a different doctor. I’ll help take care of you. There’s got to be something.” I held on to the front of his hoodie as if we were both being pulled under. “I don’t understand, Errol. Why can’t the gods help you?”

“They have helped me,” he said. “They’re finally letting me die.” He unclenched my fingers then wrapped his icy hands over my own. His gaze moved quickly from my left eye to my right, back and forth, back and forth as if searching for something. Was he confused again, like when he’d held me in his arms and called me his wife? Was he seeing me, or seeing Psyche?

Then he let go of my hands and slowly stood. “Let’s go find your mother.”

Halfway down the hall we ran into Tony. He’d found two more flashlights in a janitor’s closet. Gripping the cold plastic, I traced my mother’s steps and opened the emergency exit door. Sideways rain pelted me as I ran my flashlight beam along the edge of the woods. “There,” I said, shining the light on a narrow trail. The trail had been marked with yellow tape.

“Looks like the police already searched that trail,” Tony said.

I ran the beam along the woods again. “I don’t see any other trail and this one’s right here, right by the exit. I think she’d take this trail.”

The air was humid in the forest, and the trees blocked much of the rain. They blocked the wind, too, but it still whistled overhead. I walked quickly, the guys following, our three flashlights lighting the way. “I think she’s in her bathrobe,” I said. “It’s blue. Perwinkle blue.”

After about fifteen minutes the trail ended at a field of stumps. Either the lumber baron hadn’t replanted this part of the forest or the trees had been felled since his death. Yellow tape hung at the trail’s end. “They searched here too,” Tony said.

“MOM!” I yelled into the field. I yelled again and again. A flash of lightning flooded the field in a moment of brilliance. A clap of thunder sounded.

“This is really dangerous,” Tony said to me. “I think you should go back to the hospital and wait.”

“I agree,” Errol said.

But I’d already started across the field, winding around stumps covered in ferns and moss. Without the tree coverage, rain ran down my face and neck. “Alice.” Tony caught up to me. “If your mom wanted to go for a walk, why would she turn off the trail?”

“She was doing research for her next book,” I told him. I had no idea where I was going, just following a hunch. The police had searched the trail, but Mom wanted to experience the forest. I tried to remember the story. “The wife was killed by a falling tree. And the lumber baron went mad and spent the rest of his life planting trees. Then one night he didn’t return and …” I stopped. We’d come to a rocky ledge that dipped gradually into a patch of young trees, planted in perfect rows. “His butler found him in a cave. That’s what she’s looking for.” I cupped my hands around my mouth. “MOM!” I yelled. “MOM!” Rain ran down my coat sleeves.

“We should go that way,” Errol said, pointing.

“What makes you think it’s that way?” Tony asked. None of us had brought coats. His wet T-shirt clung to his chest. Raindrops rolled down his glasses.

“Because it’s a natural path,” Errol said, aiming his flashlight beam along the ledge.

Tony nodded. “Okay, I see what you’re saying.”

With Errol in the lead, we followed the ledge. Branches swayed overhead, lightning flashed in the distance, followed by rolling thunder. We climbed down into a creek bed that would have been dry in the middle of July if it hadn’t been for the freak storm. Water trickled over the rocks and seeped into my tennis shoes. Rain leaked between my eyelashes and into my eyes. I stumbled on a few loose rocks. The creek cut deeper into the landscape, with boulders here and there. “MOM!” I called again and again. Errol kept the lead with a sudden burst of energy that surprised me. Then he stopped. Tony and I caught up.

“Do you see something?” I asked, almost bumping into him.

Errol didn’t say anything. He stood very still, staring into space, blinking away the rain as it dropped into his eyes. His flashlight slid from his hand and cracked on the rocks. Then he looked from me to Tony and back to me. “Errol?” I said. “What’s wrong?”

He shivered. I reached out to take his arm but he pulled away. “What are you doing with him?” he asked, his tone as cold as the rain. I recognized the confused look in his eyes. “Why do you do this to me, Psyche? Why do you choose these other men when I’m gone?”

“Errol—”

He glared at Tony. “You don’t deserve her,” he said, his eyes narrow with rage. “I’ve protected her. I’ve taken care of her.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony asked.

Errol had drifted back to another time and place. I knew the story, so I could see it in his eyes. The woods had faded away. The rush of the wind became the rush of the ocean. We stood in our palace at the edge of the sea. My tunic blew in the breeze. His white hair glowed the way it used to. He turned to me, his words pleading. “Why do you bring these men into our home? Into our lives? Every time I go away there’s another one. Why?”

These men
. Psyche had taken lovers. He’d kept that part of the story to himself.

“I won’t stand for it,” he cried. Then his hands flew into their magical dance, folding the air like clay, molding it into an arrow.

“NO!” I yelled as the wind picked up. “Errol, stop it.”

“He can’t have you,” he said through angry tears that mixed with rain. “You’re mine. You belong to me.”

“Errol.” I grabbed his arm again but he flung me aside. Tony caught me as I stumbled backward.

“Hey,” Tony yelled at him. “What’s the matter with you?”

Errol extended his left arm. He pulled his right hand to his chin and pointed it at Tony. This was not going to happen. Not again. I slid from Tony’s hands and with all my strength I threw myself at Errol.

“Please stop,” I begged him, trying to release his arms from their frozen pose. But I couldn’t move them. How could someone so sick be so strong? “Errol, it’s me, Alice. Please don’t hurt Tony. Please.”

“Hey,” Tony said. “I don’t know what you two are fighting about but I think I see a cave.”

Errol’s arms relaxed.

Tony shone his light on a portion of the rock wall that was a bit farther down the creek. I ran. My heart in my throat, I ran to the cave. Its entrance was wide but low. Ducking, I stumbled inside, my hand aching as I clutched the flashlight.

The beam landed on a puddle of periwinkle blue.

Belinda
Amorous, the ex-Queen of Romance, lay in the middle of the cave in her bathrobe and slippers. Her breathing was steady, her eyes closed, her head rested on her arm. At her side lay a spiral notebook.

“Mom?” I could barely say the word, for in saying it I invited a response that I feared with all my heart. Would she be lost to her depression again? Would she be incoherent and confused? Would she stare at me with vacant eyes? I knelt beside her. “Mom?”

She stirred, then raised her head, her blond hair falling around her shoulders. “Alice?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the flashlight’s beam. “Is that you?”

I lowered the beam. My hand trembled. “Yes. It’s me.”

“Alice,” she said again, the way she used to say it. Then she sat up and held out her arms. I fell into them. “Alice,” she whispered wrapping her arms around me. I closed my eyes and I was three years old again and we were simply on another one of our wondrous adventures.

“You’re soaking wet.” She tightened the hug. “And you’re shivering.”

A flash of lightning lit up the world outside the cave. My mother pulled out of the hug and looked sternly at me. “What are you doing here? Don’t you know how dangerous it is to walk in a storm?”

“Me?” I said, once again feeling like the parent. “What about you? Everyone’s looking for you.”

“They are? But I haven’t been gone that long, have I?” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep but this medicine makes me feel so drowsy.” Then she ran her hand over my dripping hair. “You look beautiful. You’ve got layers in your hair. When did you do that?” I opened my mouth, a million things waiting to be spoken, but my mother startled and looked over my shoulder. “Who are you?” she asked.

Tony had crouched behind me. “I’m Tony,” he said. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Tony’s my friend, Mom. He helped me look for you.”

“You brought him here? To the hospital?” Her face tightened. “Alice? You told him about me?”

I took a deep breath. “He’s knows all about you. He knows everything.”

“You told him? But …”

“I needed his help,” I said, looking right into her eyes. “And I don’t want to lie anymore. This is who we are.” I got to my feet. “Look at us,” I said, opening my arms as if I’d just stepped onto a stage and was presenting our little play to an audience. “You’re in a bathrobe and slippers, in a cave, in the middle of a storm. And I’m in a pair of shorts, in a cave, in the middle of a storm.” My arms fell to my sides. “You came here to do research for your next book. I came looking for you because I was afraid you were stumbling around the forest like a zombie. I’m the daughter of a mother who does weird things, who’s been sick for a very long time but I’m not ashamed. I’m soaking wet but I’m not ashamed.”

“You’re not ashamed of me?” she asked, looking up at me.

“I’ve never been ashamed of you,” I said. “I’ve just been confused. And sad. And lonely.” My jaw trembled with that last word.

My mother got to her feet. She hugged me again. “I never wanted to be this way. I never wanted you to feel sad or lonely.”

“I know,” I said, my cheek pressed against the soft blue terry cloth. “I know that now.”

“Alice?” Tony said quietly. He stood next to me and ran his flashlight beam around the cave. “Where’s Errol?”

There’s a moment just before tragedy strikes when you can sense its impending arrival—an unnerving sensation before it swoops down like a bird of prey. I’d felt it just before opening the bathroom door on that morning when my mother was hospitalized. And I felt it right then, stronger than the jolt of Errol’s arrow. I stumbled from the cave.

Errol lay on his back in the creek bed.

“Errol!” I cried, flinging myself onto the rocks. “Oh my God! Errol!” Water trickled around his head. His drenched hood was wadded beneath his neck. Tony shone his light on Errol’s face and I gasped. His hair had turned completely gray. I put my hand on his cold cheek and his eyes fluttered open.

“I’ve run out of time,” he said.

“No.” I shook my head. “No, you haven’t. You told me you still had time. You told me—”