Her Eyes (14 page)

"If not that one, I'll find another. Don't you see, Catherine, Frank and I belong together. I may not live in that body, but there will be another soul unable to complete her life lessons, and I'll walk into that body. I will find Frank again, and somehow, some way, I'll make sure he knows it's me. He'll divorce you and marry me. Why not let go now, why put all of us through this trauma?"

"Because I can.
Because I can
.” She launched herself at Pam again. The glow of the two energy bodies so intense that a passerby would have sworn the room was on fire. The lights twined, losing any distinction to human form and becoming knotted tangles of flowing light that fell into the hull named Catherine. The body shuddered, not able to take them both easily, then the room fell silent, and the hull started breathing.

With new resolve, Frank grabbed the phonebook of the shelf and started dialing hotels. With no family and few friends, he doubted there were many places she could stay. Frank called every number, asking for Catherine White. It wasn't until he called The Little Inn that he found her. While the other hotels seemed guarded about guest privacy, the desk clerk at The Little Inn said something that originally would have been odd in different circumstances. He said, “Well there was a Pam White, but when she called for room service a bit ago she said her name was Catherine."

Without another word, not even thanks, or dialing her room number, he hung up and ran out of the house. His truck rumbled to life, tires screeching as he fishtailed onto the main road, then hooked onto the interstate. There was no thought of speed limits or of the number of moving violations he'd committed. Thankfully, the police hadn't been out on the roads.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled up at The Little Inn where a motley group of vehicles sat in front of the quaint hotel. It had a rundown appearance, but that gave it some degree of charm. It certainly wasn't a hooker hangout like a few of them in town.

The front desk clerk had given him the room number over the phone. He parked in front of the pale blue door with the number 208. Catherine's black Miata sat one spot over. This had to be the right place.

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself presentable. He hadn't thought about what to say before now. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Sure Catherine had gone to hotels, but he'd never followed, nor had he cared if she'd come back.

Frank took a mint from the pack in the dash and got out of his car. A twinge of fear filled him. What if she had a guy in there? His old Catherine would never be alone, but this wasn't his old Catherine. Maybe he was more afraid that it would be his old Catherine and that sweet spirit had already fled.

He walked up the stairs and knocked on the painted metal door. A shadow passed by the peephole, then the doorknob turned. She didn't open the door far, just enough for the chain to catch.

"Hi, Frank.” Her voice was low, cool, leaving him unable to discern anything from the tone.

"Can I come in and talk?"

She shut the door and he heard the metal of the chain pushed from the slot. He held his breath, hoping and waiting. When she opened the door again, he saw the unthinkable—Catherine had two blue eyes. He almost cried out in pain. His fit from last night must've pushed the woman he loved away.

"No!” He gripped her by both shoulders. “Not you. Where is she?"

"What are you talking about?” That was his old Catherine with the clipped words and hard edge to everything she'd said.

"I don't want you. I want the other Catherine. My green-eyed baby has to be in there someplace."

"Have you lost your mind? I'm your wife. I always have been.” She looked around the hotel room. “I'm not sure what happened. My memory is a little vague, but I know who my husband is."

He let go. There wasn't a car fast enough to take him where his love had gone. Defeated, he slumped to the bed. Maybe his research had taken too long or his drunken outburst had made his love leave forever.

Catherine sat in a chair across from him, her long legs agape despite the skirt she wore. She might clean up better than her mother, but at heart, she was nothing more than a cheap whore. He should've seen that years ago and ended this.

"Are you here to beg me back?” She moved one leg back and forth, probably trying to make him see that she wasn't wearing underwear.

"No. I don't want you back."

He inhaled deeply. Never had he betrayed his vows, but this time he couldn't keep them. His old Catherine had never wanted him and those vows had kept him trapped. He'd tasted life, a real life with someone who cared about him. There was no going back.

"I'm in love with someone else.” He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. “Her eyes are green, like some rare jewel. She likes to cook and snuggle in the garden. Win even likes her. I think her name used to be Pam, in a different life. She went by Catherine for a short time, and I fell in love with her.” He stood. “If she'd ever give me a second chance, I'd never make the same mistake."

"You've cheated on me. What the hell!” Catherine stood. “You don't want this marriage over. I'll take you to the cleaners."

"Whatever."

"She lost. A loser for a loser, except you can't have her. She's dead ...
dead!
"

Frank started walking back to the door. His heart grew heavy, a lead weight in his chest. His business meant nothing anymore. All that he cared for had gone, leaving that shrew in her wake. As he passed the mirror, he had a fleeting glance of Catherine's reflection, except it wasn't Catherine. It was Pam, his Pam, the girl he loved his whole life. He saw an ephemeral version of her when they first met. That first day when she said she would be his best friend. He watched as she morphed into the girl he took to his first dance in junior high school, then to the young lady. His Pam. Suddenly, he knew, he knew without a doubt. It was his Pam that the ambulance had passed on the road the night Catherine tried to kill him. It really was his Pam who was the donor.

"Frank?"

The gentleness in the voice stopped him. He turned and saw that one green eye, alongside the blue. Both were awash in tears, running down the face that he'd only known as Catherine.

"You're back.” He picked her up and swung her in his arms. “Never leave me again."

"I can't stay. It's a losing battle. I don't belong here. She won't let me stay."

"You belong with me."

"Let me go, you bastard,” the hard clipped tones came again.

"I'll always love you,” followed his sweet woman's voice.

He put Catherine on the floor. Nothing he could do would fix Catherine. There wasn't a way to have the woman inside. As Catherine fell to the floor, he could see the inner struggles, muscles strained in her face. She winced as if in pain. He didn't know what to do. Then Catherine jumped to her feet.

"I want to stay.” She twisted.

"You don't belong here."

If he'd known what was about to happen, he would've stopped her. As it was, he got out of the way as this crazed woman flung open the hotel room door, and ran down the steps, taking them two at a time. He thought she might stop at her car, but no, she kept going, kept running towards the busy street just beyond.

Time seemed to slow. Even his screams were held in place as Catherine ran into the street. A red Volkswagen bug clipped her, spinning Catherine between the two lanes. It wasn't until a small truck came up, its driver's ear glued to a cell phone, that Catherine stopped. If she let out a sound, Frank never knew. All he heard was the sound of the truck's brakes, then Catherine went up into the air, landing on the windshield in a mixed thump and crash. The truck swerved too late, ran into another car before stopping on the sidewalk with Catherine lodged in his windshield like some ornament, not a person at all. Her body too lifeless to really be Catherine.

"Catherine?” His heart beat loudly in his ears. “No!"

The respirator rose and fell in perfect rhythm. Frank had spent too much time in this place, smelling the sterilizer mixed with something strange underneath, like death. Perhaps it was. A hospital seemed a reasonable place for the grim reaper to linger, waiting for a new crop to take to the other side.

A heart monitor beeped next to the bed, plotting Catherine's heartbeat in little spiky lines. She'd been unconscious for two days. The driver of the truck had been released with only minor injuries. No one knew if Catherine would ever be released.

Frank hadn't left her side since the surgeons finished repairing her internal injuries and wiring her thigh bone back together with screws and who knew what kind of hardware.

"Please come back to me.” He kept repeating this strange mantra, occasionally mixing it with a prayer. “Please come back to me, Pam.” He whispered the name and only when no one was around so they wouldn't think he'd gone insane. Although part of him felt like he'd gone over that edge. Surely, none of this had been sane or normal or manageable. All he had was a dim hope that maybe the woman he loved his entire life would return.

The doctors said that she had a fifty-fifty chance of recovery. He kept that in mind. Those weren't too terrible. She could beat those odds. Catherine could do it, she'd do it for him. Maybe this accident was enough to send the old Catherine out for good and give him his sweet one. His Pam.

"Please, Catherine ... Pam, come back. Please come back to me."

Then the heart monitor stopped its spiky lines and a single loud continuous beep emitted from the machine. Lights flashed and he heard people rushing outside the room, ready to come in, but he knew this was it.

From the flesh form on the bed, lights tumbled to the floor, flowed together, then arched into the air. Everyone in the room could feel the tension, but none saw the struggle for life between the two forces. Everyone felt the chill, but none knew the opening of existence swirled around them, hungry for a soul lost.

The lights danced, the fluorescent bulbs in the room blinked wildly for a moment as the fight flowed to the ceiling. Human will struck where hand and foot could not. One hard lunge, and one light entered the body while the other found the fleshy hull closed. It could no longer house two souls, could no longer take the abuse of their occupation. This left one a person and the other nothing more than shadow waiting for eternity to open and take it into its embrace.

Even as the first person shoved Frank away, wheeling in a crash cart, he knew nothing would be the same. He'd tasted love, found something too amazing to keep. At least he'd tasted it for a moment.

"Wait, she's coming back.” One doctor, dressed in green scrubs, waved his hands to stop resuscitation efforts.

Frank turned, seeing a man holding paddles precariously over Catherine. The machine by the bed started beeping again. He edged closer, wishing wondering. Then he saw her hand move, pulling the oxygen mask from her nose. He held his breath wanting, wishing for green eyes. It had to be his Pam, his love. With all his heart, he longed for it. He deserved happiness. He deserved her.

"Frank?"

The voice was soft. He pushed through the white-clad group surrounding her bed. She blinked, then reached for him. The IV in her hand stretched, pulling against the tape holding it in her skin.

"Catherine? Pam?"

He wasn't sure if he could take looking into her eyes. Frank had to see though, had to know if two blue ones would burn hatred into him or if one might be green, if there might be hope. His heart pushed into his throat. It had to be her.

"It's okay, Frank. I'm here to stay."

Frank leaned over as she reached one pale hand up and rubbed her eyes. He stared, leaned close, hoping to see green in her eyes, holding him with love. She moved her hand slowly, every second beat loudly in his ears, driving him crazy as he waited to see those eyes. The doctors clamored around them. One bumped into his side, checking her IV, he stopped looking at her face for a brief second. When he glanced back, her eyes were closed again.

"Look at me, love. Please."

A smile crept across her lips. The ache in him grew until he couldn't think. Could it be? Was it possible to hold her again in his arms? It had to be. Whatever cosmic forces brought her back wouldn't let him lose her again.

She leaned up and opened her eyes. For a second, he saw green, shimmering green eyes, but that had only been his imagination. As he stared, the warm hopes faded into cold certainty. Those weren't green eyes, but cold ice blue.

"No,” the denial left his lips like a prayer. “It can't be."

It was more than the color of her eyes. This was Catherine in all her hateful glory. He never realized so much about the soul colored the physical appearance. Maybe he had never noticed it before. The beauty and light had completely gone from Catherine's eyes. Pam was nowhere in there.

"I'm all yours, hubby dear."

The gauze-like world stretched, the sinuous layers of eternity lay before her, every thread a journey through the fabric separating the worlds. Before her sat eternity, nothing more than color, love, warmth, beauty, and soft-focused objects just beyond Pam's sight. She couldn't pass into that sweet oblivion of light and color, not yet.

Retreating a few steps, she felt the cold, heard metal clanging, and so she followed it to where she knew Frank was. The silky layers folded, broke away from her like a spider's web, hurting her as she stepped onto cold tile.

She expected many things when the hard light hit her eyes. There stood Frank, stepping away from a hospital bed, the bed he wished she lay in instead of that monster. She reached to him, a shadowed form of her previous self, and found her hand pass through him. That wasn't the worst of it. As she gazed around the room, she saw that she'd not been alone in escaping the afterworld. Other shimmering shapes walked around her, some crying, some screaming, and none happy. Most stayed in the hallway, one or two drifted into the room as if attracted to the recently taken body. They stood near, gazing at Catherine, hunger and lust apparent in their eyes. They were slowly degrading to something base, primal emotions, and echoes of what they once were.