The Hungry House (20 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Paul felt utterly heartbroken. He did not allow himself to feel his sadness as such but instead convinced himself that he was experiencing feelings of righteous indignation.

He carried
that thought until one day a week after seeing Vicky. All day at work painting he thought of her. As he drove to class that evening and the throngs of students on the Portland State University campus reminded of how they became acquainted. He realized that he was not being honest with himself. First of all, now that he had had a chance to calm down, he had to admit that intense jealousy had spurred his anger, and he had shot away from John's house propelled by a cloud of adrenalin. The idea that she carried another man's child infuriated him to the point of madness. He had assumed that John was the father, and the ancient rivalry between young and older men swirled in the most primitive part of his brain. He felt impotent and powerless before his image of John's prestige and financial success.

Yet, as he sat in
class that night, a different thought entered his mind:  He had not given her a chance to explain. Was it possible that there was a reasonable explanation?  Could he dare to hope?  After all, she had run after him and called his name. She had wanted to talk to him. He should have given her a chance. He should have listened. Would she ever forgive him for acting like a recalcitrant child?  There was only one way to find out.

He could not find John'
s phone number. It was not in the book and directory assistance informed him it was unlisted. Of course, Margaret would know, but, somehow, he felt embarrassed by the thought of asking Margaret for the number. What if Vicky had already told Margaret what he had done? 

So, o
nce again, he drove to John's house and arrived unannounced. It was 8:00 p.m. As Paul opened the gate and walked into John's front garden, the twilight effect of the setting sun made it appear even more beautiful that it had when he had previously visited. The flowers and bushes seemed quiet and hushed as he approached the porch via the curving stone walk.

Once the maid opened the front door,
Vicky was summoned. Her health had rebounded. Her stomach was no longer bothering her, and her weight was beginning to return to a healthy number. Her cheeks were rosy, and she had finally begun to exhibit the characteristic bloom of pregnancy. Paul had been asked to sit in a chair in the entryway but had gotten up to pace the marble flooring of the front hallway.

###

When I saw Paul, I ran down the stairs to him, not caring why he had come or what he had to say. I loved him and wanted to feel him in my arms. He took me in his arms, kissing my lips, forehead, and neck. I responded with all the passionate fervor my young love could give.

"I know how bad everything looks, but you just have to let me explain."

Paul covered my mouth with his forefinger. "I don't care anymore. I only want to be with you,"

Almost immediate
ly, we were both in tears, tears of relief and joy. I led him out through the sun room and into the garden. We sat on a charming wooden bench under a rose trellis, while I haltingly told him what I believed had happened. Paul sat beside me, looking at the ground, listening. When I got to the part about how I had become pregnant, his face turned white with horror.

When I
had finished, Paul knelt on the grass in front of me, his head on my knees, his arms wrapped around my legs. "Darling, how can you ever forgive me for reacting the way I did, for not believing in you?"

"There's nothing to forgive
. Come on, sit back up here on the bench beside me, and give me a kiss."

John and Matt we
re out, and no one noticed when Paul and I climbed into his Jeep and drove away.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

I
ached for Paul body and soul. I had come to understand that life was uncertain. All I wanted was to be with him before anything else happened.  Our love would heal the violence committed against my body and sanctify the child within.

As soon as we
shut the door of his apartment behind us, it was as if they were all alone in the world, the primeval man and woman coming together as one. I reclined on the sofa, and Paul lay beside me, his head on his hand and stroking my face.

"What should we do?  I don't want to hurt you or the baby."

"Just move very slowly, and everything will be all right."

Paul
kissed me all over with reverence and love, and I recalled the ancient wedding vow: with my body I thee worship. Time and place faded away as Paul caressed my arms and held me, until suddenly, I felt myself being drawn into a huge wave of pleasure, more powerful than anything I had ever known. The wave crested, and I entered an endless, dark void and became one with the universe. My body pulsed and throbbed, rocking the baby I carried in its rhythmic beat of love.

I wanted to be one with Paul more than anything. Suddenly he stopped and lay back away from me.

"You know, after everything that has happened to you, I want everything to be perfect. This is not the right time or place for this." Paul said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you are so precious to me, I want to do everything right from now on."

With that, Paul got up and went into the kitchen. I heard water running and wondered what he was thinking. Was he repelled by my pregnancy?

He return to the sofa and sat down next to me.

"I never want to be separated from you again. Let's get married. I know it will be hard at first, but eventually I should get a decent job. I've saved a little money. You can come with me to California. I know we can make it work."

I
smiled. "Is this a proposal?"

Paul
got up and dropped to one knee. "I don't have much to offer you, but I love you with all my heart, and I'll work hard to make sure that the three of us and any other children that come will have a good life. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes, darling, yes.
" I covered his face with kisses.

I
sat in Paul's lap, as we talked for several hours about how we might live and everything we dreamed of doing. All the while, I thought to herself, if this child is Frank's, he can help us get on our feet financially. I'll make sure he does.

Reluctantly, they left
, and Paul took her back to John's. In the morning, he would talk to his father about their wedding plans.

That night,
I climbed into bed feeling serene and at peace. I knew the beginning of our marriage would be difficult, but felt sure our love and commitment would carry us through the hardships to come.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Frank followed Paul's Jeep
Wrangler and parked across the street from John's home. The house was surrounded only be a wrought iron fence with spikes on the top. There was no stone wall to obstruct his vision as at his own home, so with his binoculars, he could easily see what Paul and Vicky were doing. What he saw made him dizzy with rage. They walked to the door hand in hand, all the while sporting what Frank thought were infuriatingly goofy smiles on their faces.

Frank muttered under his breath, "
Paul--I am going to
end
you."

###

That night, Paul was awakened from a sound sleep. Someone was in the apartment. He turned and groped for the baseball bat he kept leaning against the wall by his bed. He got out of bed, bat in hand and dimly made out a figure looming inside the door. He switched on the light. A large dark-haired man with a vertical scar over his forehead, eye, and cheek came at him and easily grabbed the bat out of his hand. Paul crouched and tackled Dark Hair by the waist, crashing him against the wall. Dark Hair, with super-human strength, pushed Paul away and hit his head with the bat. After that, Paul knew only darkness.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

The next day after my reconciliation with Paul, I sat at the table in the dining room of John's house with an electronic calculator and papers spread out in front of me tracking food bank donations and pledges as they poured in. A special account had been opened at the bank. I thought about Paul. I had never experienced such joy. I kept thinking: This must be the way my mother felt about my father. How fortunate I am, and how wonderful it is to be alive. My upcoming marriage and the prospect of giving birth were great to anticipate, and I felt proud of the way the food bank project was shaping up. Clients of the food bank were going to be amazed at the quality and quantity of the food available.

Edna
came into the dining room, ushering a tall middle-aged man with blond hair graying at the temples who nervously twisted and turned a baseball cap in his hands. He seemed oddly familiar. I noticed there was something strange about his face, as if all his hopes had been blown away by a great storm.

"
Vicky, this is Gary Olson here to see you."

"Wh
y--are you Paul's father?"

"Yes.
" His answer was so faint, it was almost a whisper.

"I'm so happy to meet you. Please sit down." I rose and walked around the table to shake his hand, and he limply shook it.

Highly distracted, he
looked down at the floor and sighed, and then pulled out a dining chair and sat.

He took the seat closest to me
. "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, Vicky, but Paul was attacked last night, and he's in a coma."

I
stood without thinking. "What--where is he?  I have to go see him, right now!"

Paul's father looked at the floor
and then back up at me. He seemed to hold onto his composure with a great effort. "Paul's at Providence Hospital."

Stricken with the terror that gripped my chest,
I ran out the front door before anyone could stop me. I slipped and fell on the top step. A great pain ripped through my lower back and abdomen. I screamed. The thought of Paul being injured sent shock waves throughout my entire body. The image of him lying in a hospital bed sent thrills of horror up and down my spine. .

John
picked up my trembling body from the steps and carried me into the living room sofa where I sobbed my heart out. Several minutes later, a second pain caused me to scream in agony. A look of understanding passed between John and me. Labor had begun, and the initial pains should have been relatively light. Something was wrong.

Abruptly
, my entire being filled with an intense focus. How could I have been so foolish as to rush out the front door and fall on the steps?  I had to protect my child. Paul and I planned to raise it together; the child had kicked with joy as Paul sang to it. I have to concentrate, I thought to myself.

I
awoke the following day in the first light of dawn. I had been in labor until 3:00 in the afternoon. John was asleep in a chair near my hospital bed. He had kept watch with me through the night. I pushed the button to raise the bed, adjusted my pillows and sat up. The rustling woke John.

He rubbed his eyes
. "Hey, you. How are you doing?"

"I'm not that bad."

John thoughtfully examined my face. "Okay. What does that mean?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes. More than anything."

"It means that I'm worried about Paul but happy about
little Paul."

"So, you've decided on the
name."

"
Do you know if there's any word on Paul?"

"Are you sure you want to hear this right now?"

I nodded.

"Paul
's still in a coma."

"It was Frank
. People around me keep getting hurt."

"I admit you may be
right, but there's no way to prove it. If he hired someone, I'm sure he's covered all his bases and has an alibi."

"John, did you get any sleep at all last night?"

"Yeah. I did. I should sleep sitting up in chairs more often." He grinned.

I
stood up with care and took the steps necessary to reach the bassinette in which Paul slept. I had delivered a healthy son. Soon, I had the baby in my arms, and nothing else seemed to matter. I wondered, is it always like this?  Does every mother love her newborn more than her own life?  A hospital breakfast was delivered. John went outside the hospital confines to have a smoke and returned.

"You look more like your old self now that you're holding little Paul."

I turned to John. "I wish I could beat Frank to a pulp."

"Your desir
e for revenge could destroy you," John said thoughtfully.

"Perhaps
. But, I will not rest until Frank no longer inhabits this earth. Young Paul will not be safe as long as he is alive."

"Are you saying Frank would kill him?"

"Not physically. But, he has to control everything around him."

"All right
. I, I understand where you are coming from. I understood from the beginning that Frank was malignant. But, you must be very careful. Think about what you are saying. You don't want to end up in prison because of threats against Frank or attempted murder. That won't help your son."

"Oh, believe me, I understand that
."

"And, don't talk about this with anyone
. Not even your friends." He paused and looked away from her to the floor. He stood and walked to the window, standing in silence for a moment.

He returned to sit in his chair and leaned toward
me, his elbows on his knees, his eyes dark and troubled.

"Don't worry. I'm not really going to hurt Frank. It's just a fantasy."

###

The days and nights that followed were a mix of joy and heartache for me--joy in little Paul and heartache and worry about my love in the hospital. Since I had a newborn, I could not spend all my time at the hospital. I treasured every minute I could spend with my son. I went when I could for a while in the evenings.

On the evening of the second day of the coma, I went to visit the hospital after little Paul had gone to sleep. I arrived at 8:00 p.m., well after visiting hours. The nurses knew I was the fiancé and so tolerated me.

A nurse came in to speak to me in the hallway. "We think he might wake up. He's start
ed talking to himself."

"When was this?"

"Oh, a couple of hours ago, he began to seem restless and was mumbling to himself--a very good sign. You'll see."

I hurried into his room.

His mother was already there looking very excited. "Vicky, I think he's trying to open his eyes."

I pulled my chair near his bed and took his hand. A deep crease had formed between his eyes. His eyelids flickered and he shook his head restlessly from side to side.

He mumbled something. I moved close to his lips. "Don't . . .to. No." Paul said.

I leaned to his ear. "Paul--it's Vicky. I love you very much, and I need you. Please--if you can, open your eyes."
I silently willed him to wake up. "Oh God, please let Paul wake up. I can't lose him."

Paul continued to shake his head. He was becoming
more agitated. His eyelids flickered.

"You can do it. You can do it." I said.

Paul turned toward me and opened his eyes for a second, looked right at me, and then closed his eyes again. "Paul! Paul wake up. Look at me!" In my excitement, I lightly shook his shoulders.

At last, he opened his eyes. "Vicky?"

"Paul, how do you feel?" He looked around the room and back at me as if he were trying to focus.

"My head hurts, but other than that pretty good."

"He's awake."