Mortal Fear (57 page)

As the last chord fades into silence, a voice from close behind me freezes me in place.

What are you doing?

Moving slowly, I lay the guitar on the ground, get up, and turn to face Drewe. She stands just inside the shade of the tent, wearing a black dress, black shoes, black hat, and Ray-Ban sunglasses. She seems a pale apparition of rebuke.

Saying good-bye, I reply. This is what she wanted. I had to do it.

You told me you wrote that song for me.

I did. But she liked it.

Drewe says nothing. I glance over her shoulder for a car but see only the empty cemetery lane.

What did my father say to you?

He let me know it was okay I was here.

Thats not all he said.

Thats all Im going to tell you.

Her mouth wrinkles in disgust. More secrets?

If you like.

She sighs, then turns and begins walking away.

He told me I should do whatever it took to make up with you, I call out. That we should get on with living.

She stops and turns back, squinting her eyes against the sun. And what did you say to that?

Nothing. I dont think I can make it up to you. I think it comes down to whether you can live with what you know and with me too. Or whether you want to.

Do you think anyone could?

I dont know. I think youre a unique person, Drewe. I think you love me, even if you dont like me or even respect me right now.

And you think thats something to build a life on?

Its a start. I love you, Drewe. Ive loved and respected you since we were kids.

Then why did you fuck my sister?

The profanity shocks me, but if anything was ever going to push her to it, this is it. Because I couldnt sleep with you.

No! she cries bitterly. We
were
sleeping together then! Youd asked me to marry you!

And you said we should take a year to be sure.

That was for
your
benefit.
I
was sure! I thought you might not be, and obviously I was right.

I was sure, Drewe.

You were sleeping with other women too, werent you?

No.

She walks back a little way, her arms folded protectively across her chest. I hate this, she says softly. I
hate
it.

I hate it too.

I try to trust people, I want to, but everything is always soso ugly at the bottom.

Thats not true.

It is!

Its not true with you. I mean, youre the exception. And Im glad you are. It actually gives me hope for the world.

She pulls off her sunglasses and looks into my eyes. Im no exception, Harper.

What do you mean?

Just what I said. No ones completely pure. Everyone has a past.

What are you talking about?

She hesitates, then pushes on. What could you learn about me that would shock you the most? That would hurt you the most?

There is a strange buzzing in my head which prevents my thinking clearly. Im not sure I

Youre not the only man Ive slept with, Harper.

She takes a quick step back, as though the bald statement has shocked even her. You dont believe me?

But you said....

I let you think that because you wanted to believe it so badly, and because it was almost true.

Almost true?

She folds and unfolds the earpieces of the sunglasses in her hands. When I was in college, the last year before medical school, I hadnt seen you for almost two years. You called maybe twice that whole time. Id spent four years doing nothing but studying. Id just taken the MCAT, and I was sure Id blown it completely.

But you scored in the ninety-eighth percentile.

I didnt know that
then
, okay? I just hit this down place in my life. I felt like everything had been a mistake. Id been in love with you for years, was practically living like a nun, yet I was being faithful to a man who was sleeping with women all over the country. It seemed insane. It
was
insane.

Drewe

One night I accepted a date with this boy. We went for pizza and a movie, nothing special, but I liked him. He was in some of my classes, and he made me laugh a lot. Anyway, when he took me home, I asked him to come in.

Drewe, you dont

And while we were kissing, she says forcefully, I realized how good it felt simply to be held by another person. And I just... didnt resist anything he was doing. Almost my whole dating life had been spent pushing away hands and saying Please dont or Im sorry. And I was just tired of it. I couldnt do it anymore. He was kissing me and I realized with sort of a shock that I was wet. And I was wearing a dress and I justI just
did
it.

I have a childish urge to cover my ears with my
hands. Drewe watches me with an almost defiant look, her green eyes flashing, as if daring me to criticize her.

What do you want me to say? I ask. It hurts.

That I did it? Or that I didnt tell you about it?

I understand why you did it. Im surprised you didnt do more of it. But why couldnt you tell me?

She shakes her head as though she cant believe what shes heard. I did exactly what youve done to me! Tried to spare your feelings.

I know that. I get it, okay? I dont know why it hurts so much. I guess its because I always put you on such a pedestal, as if you were more than human. Hell, Drewe, you let people think that.

What?
When I was young I acted wild so people wouldnt think I was a prude! When I finally tried to be myself, everyone made me into a saint. I cant help what people think!

Was that the only time?

She glances at the ground, then back up at me, still defiant.

God, Drewe

I didnt sleep with any other men, but I slept with him again. For a couple of days after, I wouldnt talk to him. But then I did. I slept with him every night for a week. Then I stopped.

The whole scenario is impossible to comprehend, like someone telling me my mother was secretly married to some stranger. Why did you stop?

I was terrified Id get pregnant, for one thing. I knew I didnt love him, for another. I liked him, but I didnt love him. I loved you. And I knew the things I was doing with him were things I should wait to do with you. Even though you werent showing any signs of commitment to me.

The things you were doing? I hesitate, trying to control my imagination. What were you doing with him?

She shakes her head and takes a step toward me. Just sex. It doesnt matter.

Then tell me. Just intercourse? Or everything?

Just
intercourse? Isnt that the worst offense in the scale of guilty behavior?

No. I dont know. Did you

Stop it, Harper! This is wrong. Its dangerous.

I guess it is. Was he

What? Better than you? Bigger than you? Tell me youre not that juvenile, Harper. Tell me youre more mature than a seventh grader.

I whirl away from her and start packing the Martin into its case. As stupid as it is, all I can see is Drewe debasing herself for some faceless guy and loving every minute of it, all at a time when she wouldnt sleep with me, the man she claimed she loved.

She circles around until she is facing me again. You know something, Harper? The biggest penis I ever saw was on a cadaver in medical school. You think it was doing that man any good?

Just shut up.

I wont! I thought you were different from other men. All this obsession with how many conquests they can make and who has the biggest prick and who can piss the farthest... I see it every day, in hospital staff meetings, in politics. Men are like three-year-olds trying to snatch all the toys from each other. Life isnt
about
that. You think it hurts to hear I had sex with a man for one week in my life? How do you think I would feel if every girl you ever slept with was lined up in a row? I know half a dozen personally, and the rest would probably fill a school bus! Im sure they did things for you I couldnt even imagine. But I dont
want
to imagine them. You slept with my sister, for Gods sake. You have a child by her. So dont stand there looking like a kid who just found out theres no Santa Claus.
Im
the one whos been wronged. Im the one who should be apologized to.

I tried to apologize!

Try again.

With an idiots numb elation, I realize that Drewe isnt telling me all this because she hates me, but because she loves me. And because she must hurt me a little to make it possible for us to live together again. The truth is, I feel almost relieved. I think I always wished for some
little chink in her moral armor, if only to mitigate my own sins against her trust. Its difficult trying to measure up to someone who not only has impossibly high ideals but also lives by them. Before a window can open for second thoughts I take a step toward her.

She holds up her hands. Harper, I love you. With all the joy and pain that entails. And right now the pain outweighs the joy. We have a long way to go.

With two strides she is past me, turning me with one hand, until we stand at the foot of Erins open grave.

I loved my sister, she says softly, looking down into the hole. We were more competitive than either of us ever admitted. Erin felt resentments I never let myself see. I was jealous of her sometimes too. Not so much her beauty, but... I wanted to be as free as she was. To be able to live without second-guessing myself all the time.

She paid a price for that freedom.

Yes. But this wasnt the price. This is obscene. And theres nothing we can do about it. I blame myself too, for not stopping you and Miles. Erin too. You and Miles led that animal to our house, but it was Erins secret that put her within his grasp, wasnt it?

I say nothing.

We werent married when you slept with her, Drewe goes on, still looking down. That makes a difference to me. Erin could have told you she was pregnant before you married me, even before she married Patrick. She chose not to.

At last she looks up from the grave and focuses on the granite headstone. You remember the day we got married? What you promised? Forsaking all others? From this day forward? Till death do us part? Did you really think about what you were saying then?

I remember, Drewe. I meant every word. I try to pull her to my side, but she keeps a stiff elbow between us.

She turns to me, her green eyes bright. Promises are easy, Harper. Think hard. Love is a terrible compromise if you choose to see it as one. If youre faithful, Im the only comfort youll ever have. Her jaw muscles flex with determination. But Im special. Im smart and Im
beautiful and Im enough for you to live inside forever, if you know how to open me up.

I know that. Ive always known it.

She looks up and scans the wide expanse of the cemetery. I watch her from the side, her profile regal, her thick auburn hair rippling from beneath the black hat, catching a wisp of breeze. She has never looked stronger or more unattainable than at this moment. As she turns to me, I look down, not wanting to be caught staring. My eyes register a dark glint against the sheen of the coffin.

You dropped your sunglasses, I tell her.

What? Where?

Down there. I point into the grave. I dont want to sound superstitious, but maybe we should just leave them.

Those arent mine.

What?

She points to her throat. Her Ray-Bans lie flat against her black dress, suspended from the high neckline by one earpiece.

The wraparound glasses in the grave lie at the very foot of the coffin. Thats why I didnt see them while I was playing the guitar. They almost look positioned there, rather than dropped from some distraught mourners hand. They stare up out of the hole like a pair of sightless eyes.

Drewe?

I wonder if theyre Mothers, she says, stepping to the edge of the grave and bending over.

I catch her arm. Stop.

Ow! That hurts.

Stand up, Drewe. Stand up straight.

What?

Hes here.

What?

Hes here.

Who?

Then she is looking up into my face with horror.

Dont look around, I tell her, even as I do myself. Every headstone in the field now seems capable of concealing a killer. My eye inventories mausoleums at the speed of light, prioritizing the most dangerous areas.

He didnt do the killings, I hear myself whisper.

What?

He didnt kill the EROS women. The Indian woman did. He only fired the tranquilizer gun. Weve got a chance.

Harper, hes dead. How can he be here?

Im trying to appear calm, but if Berkmann is watching me, he must see me scanning the headstones with the controlled panic of a soldier walking point in the jungle. Were going to have to run.

Where? Drewe asks, her voice thin.