Waking Anastasia (23 page)

Jerry took Ana’s hand and looked down into her eyes. “Wow. What was that?”

“It was
marvellous
, my Love.” She kissed him quickly.

“Did you . . . what did . . . I felt like you guided me from inside.”

“It was something like that. I simply . . . hush. We have company.”

An accented, male voice spoke from behind Jerry. “In all my many years, I have never seen such a beautifully elegant and natural presence on a dance floor. That was truly exhilarating.”

Jerry turned to find a distinguished man somewhere over fifty with thick, black hair, sunken dark eyes, and a black goatee peppered with grey. On the man’s arm was the second most beautiful woman in the ballroom—tall, tanned, and sparkling in a long, satin, canary yellow gown. The man extended his hand. “Professor Jakob Gervaise and Danielle Madeiros.”

Jerry accepted the offered hand. “Jerry Powell, and Ana . . .” He stumbled over “Romanova”, and decided on a compromise. “Ana Romanski.” He kicked himself, mentally. If he was trying to protect Ana, then Romanski was a pretty stupid choice.

The band slipped into “Pinetop’s Boogie Woogie” and the dance floor was once again populated. Ana gently pulled Jerry away and led him off the dance floor, Gervaise and his date close behind. Once they were clear of the dancers, Ana turned to Danielle, all smiles. “You were magnificent!”

Danielle beamed at the praise from the young woman who was obviously the centre of speculation and attention at the ball. “You flatter me, Ana.
You
were simply divine. You are a natural.” She extended her own hand to Ana, which was accepted gently, and the two women exchanged a two-cheek European kiss.

Gervaise cocked his head slightly and squinted in the low light. “Jerry Powell? The new man at CKVB, ‘The Best Folk ’n’ Oldies on the West Coast’?”

“How the h—” He caught himself. There was no need to be rude. “How did you know that? I’ve only been here a week.”

“I’m an avid reader of the
Victoria Times Colonist
and your station posted an announcement in the business section, welcoming you to town. We live in Vancouver now, but I taught at the university here for a few years and still have a few investments on the island. Congratulations on the new position, and welcome to the West Coast.”

“Thanks, Professor.” Something wasn’t right about this guy, Jerry thought. His reason for knowing whom Jerry was seemed too pat, too slick. And he barely looked Jerry in the eyes when he spoke. “Now, if you’ll please excuse us, my new boss at CKVB is waiting for us.”

Gervaise made a small bow. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Enjoy the remainder of the evening, and Happy New Year. Perhaps we shall meet again on the dance floor.” He smoothly guided Danielle away and to a table on the other side of the ballroom.

“That was strange.” Jerry shook his head and held his arm out for Ana. She linked her arm through his.

“It most certainly was. I do believe I have met him before, Jerry.”

“Here in town?” They strolled to their table in the corner.

“No, I do not believe so. Before.”

He looked down at her and she was as confused as he was. “How is that possible?”

“I am certain that I have no idea. As you said, it is very strange.”

Manny pulled a chair out for Jerry. “Sit, lad. Those were some bloody serious dance moves up there. Didn’t know you could do that.”

“I wasn’t sure I could do it myself, to be honest. Like Ana said, she’s a great teacher.”

Tom shrugged. “Lee-Anne keeps trying to get me to learn that stuff, but I’m a klutz. The look I saw on her face when Ana went spinning past, though, makes me think I should at least give it a try. For her.” He sipped his beer and glanced adoringly over at Lee-Anne. “She’s a handful, but believe it or not, that shawl was
her
idea, not mine. She even went shopping for a new dress this morning, saying that she had ‘nothing with class’ for tonight, but she came home empty-handed, which is a first. I guess the pickings were slim this close to the party.”

Manny nodded subtly at Jerry. “She looks lovely as always, Tom, and I’m sure Carmella would be happy to introduce her to her dressmaker over in Port Angeles. The girls could make a weekend of it. I give Lee-Anne a clothing allowance for work, so it probably won’t be nearly as painful a weekend for you as it will for me. But, they’re our women, so what else can we do?”

Tom tried to adjust his pre-tied bow tie that seemed to be choking him. He finally unclipped it and started adjusting the slider in back. “Sure. I’d do anything to make Lee-Anne happy. Anything except wear a stupid tie every day.”

Jerry laughed. “A regular tie isn’t so bad because we can loosen them a bit when they start to choke us, but these bowties look like crap when they’re loose and turn us blue when they’re too tight.”

“Lee-Anne says a tie makes my head look big and like I have more hair than I do, whatever that means. I think the damned things are just an excuse for women to put a leash on us.”

“Hear, hear!”

“Amen to that!”

“You got that right.”

“Quiet, lads, they’re coming back. Don’t want Carmella thinking that I talk about
her
when she’s gone like she talks about
me
when I’m not in the bloody room.” He stood as the ladies arrived and pulled out Carmella’s chair for her. The other three men scrambled to follow his lead.

The women all slipped into their seats and sipped their drinks while making small talk around the table. Ana picked up the glass in front of her and although she raised it to her lips, Jerry could see that she wasn’t actually drinking. She smiled at him and he smiled back, with all his heart. She positively glowed in all the ways a living girl should. There was a sparkle in her eyes, a slight flush on her cheeks, and when she placed her hand on his own, he could feel the warmth of her touch, even through her thin gloves. He couldn’t remember having been happier in his life. If this was love, he was pretty sure he could get used to it.

A delicate touch landed on his free hand and Carmella gave him a maternal pat. “Ana tells me you two haven’t taken the tour, yet.”

“The tour?”

“Of the Empress. The Grand Old Dame of Victoria. There’s no actual tour at this hour, but I’m sure they’ll let us go for a wander.” She pulled her hand back as Ana squeezed the one she held.

“Yes, please, Jerry. We can all go. I am certain that they would not mind.”

Carmella looked around the table. “Or we could all get up on the dance floor. Shuck, jive, shimmy . . .” The men were up and out of their chairs in a flash, including Jerry.

“A tour sounds great.”

“Terrific.”

“Yup, a perfect break.”

“Fresh air. Need some fresh air.”

The women laughed and stood up, and the men shut up. Carmella and Manny led the way toward the main doors of the Crystal Ballroom, with Jerry and Ana taking up the rear. Jerry took a few long seconds to catch his breath.

“Are you well, my Sweet?”

“Of course, Shvibzik. Just stood up too fast, I guess. Come on, let’s catch up. I’m sure Manny and Carmella have a library’s-worth of trivia about this place.”

“You are certain? We can relax here. I am sure they would not mind.”

“Nonsense. My vision’s a little fuzzy, but I’m sure I’ll be fine. You can be my beautiful guide dog.” They started off after their friends.

“Your dog?”

“
Guide
dog. Like a blind man.”

“Oh, of course.
Sobaka-povodyr
. Our cook’s uncle made use of such a dog. We were not allowed to play with Ivan—the dog—but he was brilliant to watch at work, guiding his master around. In that way, I will gladly be your guide dog. On one condition.”

“A condition? I’ll bet Ivan didn’t insist on conditions.”

“Only that he be loved. All I am asking is that you agree to tell the doctor about your eyesight. I am worried.”

“It’s no big deal. Just stress, I’m sure.”

“It
is
most certainly a big deal, Mister Jeremy Powell, because I love you and I worry.”

“Thank you, my Sweet Shvibzik. And I—”

Jerry didn’t finish the declaration. He didn’t see who turned out the lights, nor did he see the floor rushing up at him. He most certainly didn’t hear Ana’s scream for Manny, and he had no idea that half-a-dozen phones were dialling 9-1-1 while someone put a folded jacket under his head to make him comfortable.

@TheTaoOfJerr: “Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life.”

~Jean Paul

JERRY FELT SLENDER
warm fingers loosely laced in his own, the first sensation he was aware of. He’d been at a party somewhere, recently. There’d been music, and a beautiful woman in green beside him. She looked like a princess, but obviously wasn’t. Or at least he didn’t think so. He heard a soft, slow beeping of machinery, with a metronome’s beat. His eyes registered pale light and he opened them cautiously. He was in a hospital bed, again, surrounded by a curtain, looking up at a ceiling of hole-filled acoustic tiles. The person holding his hand stood and leaned over him, strange, smoky tears rolling off her cheeks and vanishing.

She was here. The princess was here, with him. She wasn’t a dream after all. “Hi there. How
you
doin’?” She kissed him firmly on the mouth—hard enough to express her feelings, but not so hard that he felt smothered, trapped and crushed down on the hospital bed. He kissed her back, because he was sure he was supposed to. When his mental fog cleared, he was sure he’d even remember her name.

“You are awake, my Sweet.” Without letting go of his hand, she reached across him with her free one and pushed a button. “Someone should be here, soon.”

“Thanks.” He looked around for the bed controls and found them. The intravenous feed in his arm restricted his movement, but the controls were close at hand so he picked them up and squinted at them. He couldn’t read any of the symbols. He thought they were arrows but he wasn’t sure. He took a chance and pressed the up-arrow-looking button on the top right. With a whine and whirr, the top of the bed tilted and lifted him into a sitting position, just as a smiling Filipina nurse stepped through the curtain.

“You’re awake, Mr. Powell? I’ll page Dr. Kelly. Ana, will you be here for a few more minutes? I know you said you had to get home soon.” She looked at the beauty holding Jerry’s hand. Ana was her name. That’s right, he thought. Ana the ghost. Ghost? Was he on drugs? He reflected on it, memories drifting and sliding in and around his awareness. No, he finally concluded, she really was a ghost.

“Of course. I still have some time before I have to leave.”

“Thank you. I’ll be back shortly, Jerry.” She slipped back through the curtain and the squeak of her rubber-soled hospital shoes on the polished floor followed her out.

“You have to leave, Ana?”

“Not exactly. I have to get back to the book to rest. I have been here for . . . a long time. I keep fading in and out and afraid that someone will catch me.”

“Where are we?
When
are we?”

“Royal Jubilee Hospital. It is the evening of January 3
rd
. Visiting hours were finished an hour ago, but they let me stay a little longer.”

“What happened?”

“You collapsed.”

“In a ballroom?” It sounded familiar.

“At the Empress Hotel. Three evenings ago.”

“I’ve been out for three
days
?”

“The doctors had to do something about the swelling. They kept you unconscious a little longer, until they could do the surgery.”

“Surgery?” He looked down at his body, counting his limbs. They were all present and accounted for.

“A craniotomy, Jerry.” The answer came not from Ana, but from the tubby doctor who stepped through the curtain, medical file in hand. He placed the file in the holder on the foot of the bed and took his stethoscope from around his neck. “Hello, Ana. Jerry, we ran those tests we discussed last week—the CT scan and the MRI—and found a large mass. We need to do more tests but the pressure was building and we had to make a little hole and relieve some of the pressure. We also took a biopsy while we were in there and should have the results by tomorrow morning. I put a rush on them and the lab is going as fast as they can.” He pulled up a chair and consulted his clipboard.

“Are there any changes to those things we discussed last visit, Jerry? Memory, vision, confusion, sense of smell, tremors, fatigue . . . ?”

“I was afraid you were going to ask that. Yeah, pretty much a little of everything except tremors.” The doctor started taking notes. “I’ve forgotten names I shouldn’t, I get tired really easily, and my eyes are giving me trouble, especially the right eye.”

The neurologist took a shiny metallic blue penlight from his jacket pocket and got up out of the chair. “Can you focus off in the distance, please. Maybe at the fire sprinkler in the ceiling over there.”