Authors: John R. Maxim
Tags: #Horror, #General, #Psychological, #Suspense, #Memory, #Thrillers, #Fiction, #Time Travel
Time Out of Mind (95 page)
Maybe it was here where she decided she didn't want to
live with fear and hurt and uncertainty anymore. Gwen
self.
a gentle man. A good man. So full of life and fun and good
ideas. At least he
was
like that, and perhaps will be again.
His eyes were clearer, last night and this morning, than
they'd been in—a year? A year at least.
A good and gentle man.
bare hands. Or Tilden has. Oh, that is going to take some
getting used to.
Tilden! Tilden Beckwith, old buddy!” She called him
in her mind.
didn't have. She made it drift over the bed to its footposts,
and she caused it to form into Tilden. There. There he was.
Standing there with that same little-boy smile Jonathan has
when he's pleased with himself.
If I decide to stay here for a while, you're not going
to be hanging about all the time, are you? I mean…
Wait.
. .
You go away, Tilden.
I want to talk to Margaret.
Gwen started another curl of smoke.
and smiled up at him. Tilden bowed once to Gwen, and
then he was gone.
Gwen's Margaret was smaller than she expected. She
wore a green embroidered dressing gown with a high oriental collar. She had brown hair, shiny and all brushed out,
and her eyes were almost the color of her gown. She was wearing slippers. That's why she looked smaller. She was grinning at Gwen.
“
Hi!” Gwen grinned back at her and waved.
Now what?
“
Margaret, you're really very lovely, by the way.”
with a gesture of her hands.
Margaret.” Gwen stopped. It suddenly struck her that she had taken the last of Uncle Harry's propranolol tablets
last night after she saw that man hanging from the tree.
Was the pill doing this? No. She was doing it. She was making it up. And there was nothing wrong with that.
Margaret? Are you and Tilden together now? For good,
I mean.”
Margaret nodded happily.
“
I'm glad.”
and Jonathan. It was the same question.
I think so. It depends a little bit on what I was going
to ask Tilden. Are you and he going to be living ...
urn . .. staying here in this house?”
“
Oh, no.” Margaret's lips formed the words. Then she said something else that looked like “This is
...
this is
Laura's house.” Margaret made a quick erasing motion
with her hands, as if she were playing charades, and pointed
to the bathroom door. A very tiny blond woman came
through it, carrying a bundle of soiled towels.
Oh, now wait,” Gwen Leamas laughed. She made an
erasure motion of her own, and Laura Hemmings was gone.
“
She wasn't really there, was she? Tell me this house
isn't haunted.”
Margaret winked a reassurance and shook her head.
“
Margaret?’'
She waited, still smiling pleasantly.
“
Margaret, where do you go? I mean, what happens af
terward?’ '
Margaret's reply, although Gwen could not hear it, was untroubled and without hesitation, but she seemed to stumble after she'd formed the first few words. She paused thoughtfully and tried again. She reminded Gwen of some
one who'd been stopped on the street and asked for directions to a place that person knew perfectly well but could
not for the life of her explain how to get there. Margaret
at last gave up- She shrugged helplessly at Gwen.
“
Gwen, honey?”
She felt Jonathan's hand touch her cheek.
“Hi!” She took the hand and squeezed it.
“Were you asleep?”
Gwen stretched and looked around the bedroom. ”I don't
think so.”
“
You were talking.”
Oh.” She hesitated. “Then maybe I did drop off.” She
thought about asking him to describe Margaret again. And
Laura Hemmings. Perhaps some other time.
You smell terrific.” His fingers probed for an opening
in the terry robe at her waist.
Well, you don't.” She slapped his hand. “The bath
tub's free now.”
“
Will you wait right here?”
“
You betcha.”
“
Jonathan?”
“
Yes, sweetheart.”
You mentioned us flying down to a warm
beach someplace.”
“
Just as soon as they let us.”
' ‘Would you care if we went someplace else?’'
“
Wherever you'd like.”
“
I'd like to go to Lake Geneva.”
“
Wisconsin? In the winter?”
They have some really cozy inns up there. With rooms looking out over the lake where we can go skating and
iceboating. And the rooms each have their own fireplaces.”
“
Any inn in particular? Is This someplace you’ve been?
“
Margaret? Margaret? Are you sure it’s still there
?
There was no answer, really. Just a faint little chill. And then a feeling of delicious snuggly warmth.
She wanted to say to Jonathan, “
Yes, I’ve been there many times
.” She wanted to say, “
So have you
,
my great and eternal love.”
All she thought she’d best say was, “Wait and see.”
“
Gwen?”
”Uh-huh?”
“
Would you marry me, please?”
“
In Lake Geneva? I will in Lake Geneva.”
He smiled. “Signing in as man and wife?. I mean, this inn of yours.”
“
That's a lovely idea, Jonathan.”
End.