The Golden Spiral (13 page)

“Hi, Valerie,” I said with a small wave. “Remember me?”

She turned to me and her whole face lit up. Running to me, she threw her arms around me in a wild hug. “Abby! You’re here! I knew you’d come!” Just as quickly, her face fell into shadow. “But, oh, you shouldn’t be here. He won’t be happy.” She jammed the end of the bathrobe belt into her mouth, sucking and chewing. Her eyes darted from side to side. “Oh, no, no, he won’t be happy at all.”

“Do you mean Zo? Why won’t Zo be happy?”

Valerie shrieked and covered my mouth with her hands. “Don’t say his name. You’re not allowed to say his name.”

Startled by her sudden movement, I took a step back. “Okay,” I mumbled, gently pulling her hands away. “Okay, I’m sorry, I won’t.” I grimaced. We’d only been together a few moments and already I had upset her. Dr. Blair would be furious. Still holding Valerie’s hand, I pointed back to the stone fountain. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute. Can we sit down?”

Valerie looked from me to the fountain and back again. “What do you want to talk about?” she asked hesitantly.

I sat down on the edge. The stone was cool against the backs of my legs. The endless sound of the invisible waterfall was oddly soothing, like a long-ago lullaby.

Now that the moment was here, I wondered if I had made a mistake in coming. I took a deep breath; it was time to find out. “I’d like to hear another story.”

Her eyes widened in excitement. “I
love
stories!” Valerie scurried to my side, crossing her legs beneath her and holding the toes of her scuffed slippers. “I know a lot of stories.”

“I know. That’s why I came to see you today. I was hoping you could tell me another story about . . . about the River Policeman.” I watched her eyes, hoping to see that faint glimmer of her old self beneath the surface, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“No, the best stories are about the Pirate King. Can’t I tell you one of
those?
”

“Maybe later,” I hedged. I did want to hear more about Zo—a lot more—but I had only so much time today and Dante couldn’t wait. “But I really, really like the River Policeman. Don’t you know another one about him?”

Valerie nibbled at her fingernail, twisting her lips in thought. “Well, I know one. But I don’t know if it’s a good story to tell.” She looked around the room as though something lurked behind the plastic leaves. “It’s a dark story.”

“Dark how? Like, scary—with monsters and things?”

She laughed, the sound like a chittering bird. “Silly girl, monsters aren’t scary.”

“What makes it scary, then?”

Valerie finally met my eyes, her blue gaze steady. “It’s not scary. It’s
dark.
It’s dark where the River Policeman is. Dark and cold.” She crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders, pretending to shiver, even though she sat in a slant of sun.

My breath slipped out with my words. “Where is the River Policeman? Do you know?”

Valerie half closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side as though she was listening to more than the babbling waterfall. “He is nowhere. He is everywhere. He is in between. He doesn’t like it. The darkness presses on him and it hurts.”

I bit at my lip. I heard again the sound of screaming coming at me from the darkness between the doors.

“He thinks a lot about how much it hurts. It’s hard to think, but thinking is all he can do while he waits for the darkness to eat him alive. He knows that once it has finished nibbling at its prisoner, it will come for him.”

The prisoner is Tony. She’s talking about Tony.

“The Policeman knows he doesn’t have much time left. The thought makes him laugh and laugh and laugh. But there is no one to hear him laughing.”

I heard him,
I thought.
It was his laughter that drew me to the dream-side of the bank.

“The Policeman is smart, though. Smart and brave. He will need to be brave to face what waits for him in the darkness.”

“What’s that?” I asked. I realized I was touching Dante’s locket, unaware that my hand had moved to my throat. “Is there something else in the darkness?”

Valerie’s eyes snapped open and she frowned. “Stop interrupting the story.”

I swallowed and looked down. “Sorry. Go on.”

“He has a choice to make. He can wait for the darkness to crush him. Or he can escape. It will mean leaving behind the prisoner, and the River Policeman is not sure he can do that. After all, he has never left a man behind before. But it’s not like the prisoner will mind.”

I knew that was true enough. From my conversation with Dante, it didn’t sound like Tony was going to mind much of anything for much longer. I risked speaking again. “How can the Policeman escape?” Like Tony, I didn’t have much time left either. Dr. Blair would be back any minute, but I couldn’t leave before hearing the end of this story.

Valerie paused, frowning at me. “If you can’t stay still, then I can’t tell you the story.”

“I’ll be quiet,” I promised, drawing an X over my heart and holding up my finger.

“Cross your heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in your eye,” Valerie chanted, but the words sounded more like a threat in her eerie monotone than they did in the familiar cadence of a childhood rhyme.

I didn’t dare say another word; I could barely breathe.

Valerie regarded me in silence, the sound of running water in the background reminding me how fast time was slipping away.

“Now I don’t remember where the story is. It’s so dark, it’s easy to get lost in it.” She closed her eyes, her hands clutching the hem of her bathrobe. “Oh, there it is. You thought you could get away, but I found you.” Opening her eyes, she smiled and straightened her spine, settling into her pose on the stone like a regal queen granting an audience. “The River Policeman has decided to escape. No matter what. He has to get away from the darkness. He has to join the girl he loves. He has to make sure the darkness doesn’t get
her.
”

Words clogged my throat—
That’s me. I’m the girl. Is the darkness coming for me?
—but I stayed still. I didn’t want to rush Valerie and make her mad.

“He stands on what is left of his feet, reaches out into the darkness with what is left of his hands. He is blind in the night so he must search by touch.”

I rubbed my palms together, remembering Dante’s ghostly touch and the strength in his hand as he wrapped his fingers around mine, the fire of his lips on my skin.

“He is looking, he is looking, and . . . ah-ha, he is
finding.
There is a way out of the darkness. A way back to the girl of his heart.”

How?
I felt my mouth shape the word, but I held my breath instead of giving it life.

The message must have been clear, because Valerie nodded sagely and answered. “How does anyone go from place to place? Through the door.”

“But there
isn’t
a door,” I blurted out, unable to stay silent another moment. “Dante said he looked, but there wasn’t a door!”

Valerie slouched out of her pose and rolled her eyes. She blew out her breath in exasperation. “Well, duh, darling. Of course the
old
door isn’t there. He wants to go someplace new, right? So he’ll have to go through a
new
door.”

The change in her posture and in the tone of her voice was so sudden it made me blink. For a moment, I could have sworn that the old, friendly Valerie sat next to me. The next moment, though, she was gone, and the light I saw flickering in her eyes was unfamiliar.

Then her words caught up with me. “A new door?” I repeated, a flurry of thoughts cascading in my mind. Was it possible? The blueprints Dante had given me were for a door that would open onto the bank—that was what it was designed to do. But could those plans be changed, twisted somehow, to open into the dark space where Dante was trapped?
Change what needs to be changed.

Changed how? What would be the key that would unlock the blueprint and turn it from a time machine into something else? I didn’t know. But I was willing to bet Dante did.

Valerie had said it herself—Dante had found a way out of the darkness, a way back to me.

“Thank you, Valerie,” I said, reaching over to give her a hug. “That was the best story I’ve heard in a long time.”

She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed in contentment. “I always feel better when I can tell my stories. They don’t make so much noise in my head and then I can listen to the river better.”

The door to the conservatory opened and I heard the mouse-squeak sound of Dr. Blair’s hospital shoes on the tile. My time was up, but I had one more question.

“Valerie, how did you know I was coming today?”

“I drew you a picture. Didn’t the lady doctor show it to you?”

I started to withdraw the paper from my purse. “She showed me this—”

“No, no, no, don’t take it out!” Valerie pushed at my hands, her fingers fluttering like startled birds. “He’s not supposed to know you have it.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think? Because if he did, he would steal it from you and then he would have the power—not you. And you’ll need the power. The
picture
is power.”

“What about the note?” I asked. “Why did you write me that note?”

“To give you permission. So you could do what you needed to do without fear.” She looked from side to side, her forehead wrinkled in paranoia. “But don’t tell anyone, okay?”

I mimed drawing a zipper across my lips, turning the key, and tossing it away.

Valerie pretended to catch the key, slipping it into the pocket of her bathrobe. She looked even more troubled than before. “Keys are important. You shouldn’t just throw them away. You might need that one day. When you do, you can come back to see me and I’ll give it to you, okay?”

I nodded, my eyes darting to her pocket, strangely unsettled by her words. I’d have to think about them later, though. Right now, I had to focus on Dante. He needed me more than I needed a cartoon picture and a pretend key.

Dr. Blair emerged from the plastic foliage and folded her arms across her chest. “And how are we doing?” she asked.

Valerie sprang up from the fountain and danced over to Dr. Blair. She pirouetted on the balls of her feet, turning in small circles around where Dr. Blair stood. While she danced, she cupped her hands around her mouth and spoke into the hollow like it was an intercom. “Dr. Blair. Dr. Blair. Dr. J. Hamilton. Dr. J. Hamilton.”

“Thank you for letting me visit,” I said to the doctor. Standing up, I slipped the strap of my purse over my shoulder, Valerie’s picture tucked inside. “Could I come back? Maybe in a few days?”

Dr. Blair thinned her lips and pointedly didn’t look at her patient. “Perhaps. I’ll discuss it with Dr. Hamilton.”

Valerie continued to dance, humming the same three rising notes in an endless loop. I recognized them as the opening tones of “Into the River,” and a shiver drew a shadow over my thoughts.

Valerie sidled up to me and shot a venomous glance at Dr. Blair, who was standing motionless, waiting for me to leave. “They are always watching me, you know. Always. Even when they don’t think they are. But they can’t watch me when I’m sleeping. That’s when I’m free to go sailing with my Pirate King.” She sighed with longing. “Such sweet dreams. I hope you have sweet dreams, too, Abby.” She kissed my cheek, then drifted away from me past Dr. Blair, past the neon green plastic trees, until the scuff of her soft, slippered feet was swallowed up in the sound of the invisible river that filled the room.

Chapter

9

I climbed into my car, my nerves humming with plans. There was so much to do.
Hang on, Dante,
I thought.
I know what to do. We can do this.

I made a series of quick calls. First, I called Leo at the number he’d left for me on his card to make arrangements to meet for—I checked the clock in my car—a late lunch (Helen’s—two o’clock). Then I called Natalie to see what her plans were for the day (nothing much, maybe some shopping or watching a movie). Finally, I called Jason. I told him I was sorry for bailing on him at the Devil’s Pit and promised I would make it up to him. I made sure to mention that while I had to take care of some stuff today, I knew for a fact that Natalie was free and that if the two of them wanted to do something—say, go to the movies?—I’d love to catch up with them later.

I hung up before Jason could ask too many questions. I could only hope that he would take the hint and call Natalie. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.

I sped home and was in my room at my desk in ten minutes flat. With swift and sure motions, I unlocked the drawer and wrapped my hand around the binder containing the copy of Dante’s blueprints.

The world flashed black to white and back again. I had time to think,
Oh, no, not again,
before the shock made my knees buckle and I dropped hard into the chair. A sour churning bubbled in my stomach and I tasted the hot green sting of nausea. I rubbed at my eyes, trying to scrub color back into my world.

I was really starting to hate Zo’s interference with the river.

Wiping a layer of cold sweat off my forehead, I blinked until my vision slowly returned. The nearby clock warned that it was almost two o’clock. My heart hardened like a rock. It was bad enough that the changes in the river made me feel like vomiting, but now it appeared I was losing time, too.