Harlan was on his side, his back to her, sleeping soundly. She turned from him and stepped into the hall. The night-light in the wall outlet lifted the darkness weakly. The thick shadows on the wall looked more like heavy, dark blue curtains raised tentatively from the floor of a stage. Her shadow was absorbed by them, as if she were a player making an exit from a performance; only, she sensed that her performance was about to begin.
She crossed the hallway to Nikos's bedroom door, hesitating before entering. Looking within, she saw he was awake in his crib. He turned toward her and his eyes lit with a catlike phosphorescence. Still he did not cry; he waited in expectation. She felt herself drawn to him by the now familiar tingle in her breasts.
When she lifted him from his crib, he released a soft hiss that reminded her of gas escaping from the burners on a stove. His body was as hot as something dangling over a flame, yet she didn't think of fevers or illness. The heat felt right. It was soothing, attractive. She clung to him, enjoying the feel of his cool lips against her own warm neck.
Her heart began to pound. She thought she could literally feel the blood circulating through her body, sense its movement and its rush toward every spot where Nikos's body touched hers. The tingle in her breasts spread electrically to other parts of her body. It was ecstasy. She closed her eyes and brought her head back, as if she were being caressed by some unseen lover.
After a few moments she turned and walked out of the room with the baby, carrying him high, holding the back of his head so that his face continued to press against her neck. It had come to her again—this need to leave the house. Something called to her, called to both of them. It was too strong to be resisted, and anyway, at this point she didn't have any urge to resist.
She went down the stairs carefully and stopped at the front door. After she unlocked it she tightened her grip on Nikos and then stepped outside, closing the door softly behind her.
Barefoot, and in only her sheer nightgown, she turned toward the street and the tall, dark shadowy figures that waited just beyond the reach of the first streetlight.
Jillian was surprised by the way she awoke. She heard nothing—not the baby crying, not Dana moving, no one speaking, nothing. It was as if some invisible person beside her in the bed had nudged her. For a moment, perhaps because of the confusion, she thought she was back home in her own bed with Brad beside her. It was years ago long before his death. She could reach over and touch his shoulder and be comforted by the knowledge that he was there—protective, strong, loving.
Maybe it was his spirit that had nudged her into consciousness. It was a great deal easier believing in that than in some of the other things going on around her these days. Besides, she had this ongoing faith that Brad did watch over her, even now, years after his death. She was his spiritual assignment.
He wanted her awake; he wanted her to realize something. What was it now? she wondered, and sat up slowly, listening. She spun around quickly when the shadow of something moved across her bedroom window. Whatever it was, it was gone. She had just started to recline again when she heard someone moving down the hallway.
Recalling what had happened the night before, she stepped out of bed, scooped up her light turquoise robe, slipped into her matching slippers, and went to her doorway. She opened the door and peered out just as Dana disappeared below the top steps.
"Oh, no," Jillian muttered to herself. "Not again."
She went into the hallway and to the stairway landing. Just like the night before, Dana hadn't put on any lights. What the hell was she doing? Jillian wondered. She looked back to see if Harlan had gotten up, but all was quiet and dark behind her. Determined now to get to the bottom of this, she started down the stairs. About midway down, she heard the front door open and saw Dana, carrying the baby, step out, closing the door softly behind her.
Terribly curious now, Jillian hurried down the remaining steps to the front door. By the time she opened it, Dana was below the driveway and on the sidewalk, heading up Highland Avenue. The quiet residential street was otherwise empty: no other pedestrians; no cars driving by; most homes dark, except for their door lights, which had been left on to ward off potential burglars.
"Dana," she called, but Dana did not turn around. Barefoot and dressed only in her nightgown, she walked on. Was she sleepwalking? Jillian wondered. It could very well be a consequence of all this, she thought. She looked back, debating whether or not to rouse Harlan, and then decided there wasn't time. She hurried out of the house herself.
"Dana, wait. Where are you going?" she asked, but Dana continued on, as though she'd heard nothing. The baby wasn't crying, either. For all Jillian knew, he was asleep in her arms. It was difficult to move quickly in her slippers, but she broke into a fast pace. Dana seemed to be moving toward a pair of large maple trees in the lot just a few hundred yards from theirs.
"Dana," she called as she drew closer. She suddenly got the whiff of a most disgusting stench. The only thing she could think of was the putrid odor of rotting, dead animals. She had to stop for a moment and catch her breath. It was so oppressing, she thought she was getting the dry heaves. Dana, however, went on, undisturbed by it. Jillian reached out toward her, gasping, her mouth filling with saliva. "Dana, wait!"
Jillian swallowed hard and then rushed on after her daughter.
"For God's sake, Dana, where are you going this time of the night dressed like this? Don't you realize—"
She reached out to touch Dana's shoulder, but just before Jillian made contact with her fingers, Dana turned around. In the bright moonlight Jillian could clearly see both Dana's and the baby's faces. Once again they were only one face, but this time it took Jillian's breath away.
Harlan opened his eyes and started to stretch his arms out freely, a habit of his. More often than not, Dana was awake before him, but she'd lay there waiting for him to open his eyes. Then, when he stretched and groaned, she would turn over and he would kiss her.
He hadn't done that since she'd returned from the hospital, and his awareness of her being up at all hours of the night to feed and care for the baby made him more considerate in the morning. He stifled a groan, brought his arms down quickly, looked over, and saw that she was fast asleep.
She was turned toward him, her eyes shut tight, her lips puffed out just a bit. He took this opportunity to stare at her more closely. Jillian was right to be concerned, he thought. She did look pale. She had had more color in her cheeks in the hospital, he thought. Shouldn't she be getting stronger at home? Maybe she just didn't have the physical stamina for breast feeding. Hopefully the new doctor would see this and tell her if it was so. In any case, he wasn't going to be the one to suggest it. Might as well light a stick of dynamite under himself, he thought.
He studied her for a moment more and then slowly got out of bed. Of course, he couldn't help making some noise showering and dressing, but nothing seemed to wake Dana these days. She didn't even stir. If he didn't know better, he would think she'd died in that position on the bed, he thought, looking down at her. In fact, the thought seized him and he felt a cold panic. She looked as pale as a corpse and was hardly breathing.
Was she breathing
? He couldn't help it; he had to reach down to touch her.
She felt cool, but thankfully not cold. She moaned and her eyelids fluttered, but they didn't open. He quickly pulled his hand back from the side of her throat and waited. She wasn't going to wake up. How she could sleep so deeply? He shook his head and left the bedroom.
Before going downstairs, he decided to look in on the baby. The infant slept soundly, his face turned away from the door, but Harlan went farther into the room. He would take care not to wake him, but he wanted to see him. He hadn't had much opportunity to do so during the last few days and he felt guilty about it. He wished he had some of Dana's possessiveness when it came to the baby, but despite his original hope, he still had some difficulties adjusting to the idea that their own baby was dead and that Nikos was going to be their child.
Dana had an unfair advantage, he thought, by breast feeding. That gave her a strong physical tie to the child, whereas he had to develop a relationship. In time he expected he would, but he knew that meant he would have to take a more active role in caring for the child.
If she ever lets me
, he thought.
He looked down at the infant. The first thing that shocked him was the extent to which the baby's hair had changed color. It was nearly all black now, with only a vague remnant of the original carrot color in some of the strands. And the baby's face looked older, all of his features sharper. He even looked longer, more like a six-month-old baby, Harlan thought, not that he was that familiar with the size of babies. Nikos just looked enormous to him that morning.
Did they grow that fast or did their growth show itself more dramatically during the first month? he wondered. Why, the baby's fingernails even looked long.
"Amazing," he muttered, and shook his head.
At this rate we'll be tossing a ball back and forth before I know it
, he thought, and laughed to himself. He could just hear Dana's answer. It was the breast feeding, what else?
He left the room quietly, smiling, and moved quickly down the stairs. He had a nine-o'clock that morning and wanted to finish correcting the test papers from the previous day before the class started. He could have a good quiet hour in his office if he moved along.
He half expected his mother-in-law to be in the kitchen fixing coffee and breakfast again, but no one had come down yet. He put on the lights and went right to the cabinet to get the coffee. He decided he would just have some of Colleen's cereal and a quick cup of coffee.
His sister followed soon afterwards, rubbing her eyes as she entered the kitchen. Colleen had her hair down, a bandanna tying it just behind her head. She wore a light, white cotton blouse under her pale almond light wool pullover sweater, the color matching her eyes, and a matching mid-calf-length skirt with sneakers. He smiled at her neat appearance, thinking how much pleasure his parents would have gotten if they could see her now.
" 'Morning, Harlan," she said, and yawned.
"Still sleepy?" he asked.
"I had all sorts of terrible dreams," she replied. "
Terrible ones
," she added for emphasis. He stood there nodding. She went for some orange juice and then sat down. "They were about the baby," she said. "Even though he was still a baby, he could walk and talk. Ridiculous dreams. Ugh." She shook her shoulders and drank her juice quickly.
"Well, at the rate he's growing, it won't be long before he does walk and talk."
"What do you mean?"
"He looks much bigger to me this morning. Probably because I haven't spent that much time with him, so his growth seems dramatic to me, but still… that kid's going to be a bull." He smiled and sat down to have some cereal. Colleen looked around.
"Surprised Jillian's not up yet," she said.
"Uh-huh. How were things last night?"
"Dana didn't tell you anything?"
"She was asleep when I got home, and she's still dead to the world. Why? Something else happen?" he asked, grimacing as though preparing for a blow.
"Audra Carson came over to study with me. I brought her into the living room to see the baby. Dana had him in her lap, and as soon as he set eyes on Audra, he went hysterical. Dana rushed him upstairs."
"And?"
Colleen shrugged.
"Turned out to be nothing. Gas, she said. Trish Lewis visited. Everything went well. We all had a good time. After Trish left, Dana went up to check on the baby."
"Uh-huh." He sat back, sensing there was more.
Colleen took a deep breath and then released it.
"Well, I didn't say anything to you because of that first time I saw the baby and thought I saw that drop of blood. But I saw a bloodstain on the baby's crib sheet yesterday."
"What?"
"I told Jillian, and she went up to ask Dana about it. Dana got angry again and said there was no stain. Jillian looked at the sheet and there wasn't."
"Thank God."
She hesitated. Colleen knew her brother; she knew how eager he was to avoid bad news.
"I saw it, Harlan. I didn't imagine it. I went to the laundry bin after Jillian went up to bed and I found the sheet with the bloodstain."
He lowered his spoonful of cereal.
"You're kidding."
"No. I took it upstairs and hid it in my closet. I'll show it to you."
"My God, why would she lie about something like that?"
"I don't know, Harlan. I didn't want to cause any more trouble, so I kept it to myself."
He stared at her a moment. Then he looked up. "I wonder why Jillian's sleeping so late. It's not like her."
"She's so uptight, Harlan. She's been trying, but Dana's ups and downs are getting to her."
He nodded.
"Dana's not going to like my finding the sheet and showing it to you, Harlan."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Let me talk to Jillian first. Maybe I'd better see to it that I go along with them to this doctor today."
"You should, Harlan."
"What could be wrong with the baby? He looks so strong, so healthy."
"Might just be that he scratched himself. I think babies do that often, but why Dana would keep it a secret… I don't know."
"Just afraid of facing any problems," he said. She smiled, thinking that was her brother's problem,. "You want me to make you some eggs or something?"
"No. I gotta get moving this morning" Colleen said. "I promised Teddy I'd meet him at the diner for some breakfast before school started. I broke a date with him yesterday and he's still upset."
"Sure," Harlan said, not really listening to her. She got up to leave.
"Talk to you later."
"Right," he said, staring ahead. She looked at him a moment and then went up to get her books.