another.
When Howie and Jo-Beth were talked out, he gave them his card with a New York address
and number on it, scrawling another, private number on the back.
"Move as soon as you can," he advised. "Tell nobody where you're going. Nobody at all.
And when you get there- wherever it is-change your names. Pretend you're married."
Jo-Beth laughed.
"Old-fashioned, but why not?" D'Amour said. "People don't gossip about married folks.
And as soon as you've arrived, call me and tell me where I'll be able to find you. I'll
be in contact from then on. I can't promise guardian angels, but there are forces that
can watch out for you. I've got a friend called Norma I'd like you to meet. She's good at
finding watchdogs."
"We can buy a dog for ourselves," Howie said.
"Not her kind you can't. Thank you for all you've told me. I have to get going. It's a
long drive."
"You driving to New York?"
"I hate flying," he said. "I had a bad experience in the air one time, minus plane.
Remind me to tell you about it. You should know the dirt on me now I know it about you."
He went to the door, and let himself out, leaving the small apartment reeking of
European cigarettes.
"I need some fresh air," Howie said to Jo-Beth once he'd gone. "Want to walk with me?"
It was well past midnight, and the cold from which D'Amour had stepped five hours
before had worsened, but it stirred them from their exhaustion. As their torpor lifted
they talked.
"There was a lot you told D'Amour that I didn't know," Jo-Beth said.
"Like what?"
"The stuff that happened on the Ephemeris."
"You mean Byrne?"
"Yes. I wonder what he saw up there."
"He said he'd come back and tell me, if we all survived."
"I don't want secondhand reports. I'd like to see for myself."
"Go back to the Ephemeris?"
"Yes. As long as it was with you, I'd like that."
Perhaps inevitably, their route had brought them down to the Lake. The wind had teeth,
but its breath was fresh.
"Aren't you afraid of what Quiddity could do to us," Howie said, "if we ever go back?"
"Not really. Not if we're together."
She took hold of his hand. They were both suddenly sweating, despite the cold, their
innards churning the way they had the first time, when their eyes had met across
Butrick's Steak House. A little age had passed since then, transforming them both.
"We're both desperadoes now," Howie murmured
"I suppose we are," Jo-Beth said. "But it's all right. Nobody can separate us."
"I wish that was true. "
"It is true. You know it is. "
She raised her hand, which was still locked in his, between them.
"Remember this?" she said. "That's what Quiddity showed us. It joined us together. "
The shudders in her body passed through her hand, through the sweat that ran between
their palms, and into him.
"We have to be true to that. "
"Marry me?" he said.
"Too late, " she replied. "I already did. "
They were at the Lake's edge now, but of course it wasn't Michigan they saw as they
looked out into the night, it was Quiddity. It hurt, thinking of that place. The same
kind of hurt that touched any living soul when a whisper of the dream-sea touched the
edge of consciousness. But so much sharper for them, who couldn't dismiss the longing,
but knew Quiddity was real; a place where love might found continents.
It would not be long before dawn, and at the first sign of the sun they'd have to go to
sleep. But until the light came-until the real insisted upon their imaginations-they
stood watching the darkness, waiting, half in hope and half in fear, for that other sea
to rise from dreams and claim them from the shore.
2
2
=170=
THE END |