The Kingdom on the Edge of Reality (4 page)

I didn't understand any of that at the time. I don't think anybody ever explained to me what I was doing at that school. The first time my parents approached me about going there, I said no way in hell. The second time they talked to me about it I said oh all right. That's all I remember. I was tired of horrible fights and breaking glass keeping me up until all hours of the night, so I let them talk me into going. Whatever they may have said about it being for my own good, I disregarded as typical adult lies and subterfuge and forgot about it. Anyway, I had no clear notion of why I was being sent there, and mostly I felt like they just wanted to get rid of me.

When the Keanes took me in, I was very touched and grateful to have another home. I took what they gave me and thanked them for it. But I didn't know that it would have been normal and acceptable for them to use their influence to help me make my way in the world; and I never would have dreamed of asking them for anything.

I never ever told my parents about Albert and his family. I was afraid they would think worse of me for consorting with the enemy.

Now I recognized the northwest corner of the fieldstone wall that bordered Albert's estate, and about two miles down the road, there was the impressive fieldstone arch, two hundred years old at least, that framed the entrance road. And I was
very
surprised to see, on one side of the arch, very bright and garish and out of place, a sign that said: AUCTION TODAY.

We started up that familiar road that wound through lovely woods that all belonged to Albert now, and my stomach began to churn with a whole ragbag of emotions: nostalgia and envy and a kind of dread at having to admit to this friend from my past that I had done nothing really worthwhile with all the years since I'd seen him last. Time had passed me by; I didn't have any answers to life's big questions or anything to show off. I'd just wandered from one thing to another and one place to another and let it all slide. I was wishing now that I'd been more creative about escaping from the Rolls and making my way back to my cottage in the boondocks. Not for the last time!

When we arrived at the mansion, a monument of fieldstone and oak, all gables and dormers and diamond-paned windows, the grounds were so crowded with cars and trucks that several men with orange batons were busy trying to keep them organized. They waved the Rolls by, and we drove across the west lawn to the house.

Rudy came around and opened the door for me. With my new clothes on and a couple of brandies inside me, it seemed like a long time ago that he had knocked me cold and kidnapped me; I hardly felt I could hold it against him. Maybe he had done me a favor. At this point I wasn't sure.

One of the side doors opened, and a woman came over to the car. I guessed she was a year or two into her thirties, and her casual jeans and sweatshirt did nothing to disguise her world-class beauty.

"Welcome, Jack," she said with a smile that brought a lump to my throat. "We're so glad you could come. I'm Jenna Yumans." She gave me a handshake that was both warm and firm. "Everything in the house is bedlam right now, but we're having something to eat in the kitchen. Won't you join us?"

I nodded and followed her into the house. The way her dark brown hair glistened with auburn highlights in the sunshine, the graceful, alluring way she walked . . . Ah, here was trouble.

"So," cried a familiar voice, "it's you!" Hélène Hardricourt, big-bosomed and silver-haired, made for me across the kitchen, folding me up in a hug that made me gasp for air. "Where have you been?" she wanted to know, as though I had just come back from playing outside and was half an hour late for dinner. "You had a fight with Albert, okay, these things happen. But you don't write? You don't call? You don't have anything to do with the people who love you? Oh, Jack," she cried, impatiently wiping the tears out of her eyes, "it's so good to see you, but you should be ashamed of yourself!"

"I'm sorry, Hélène, God's truth I am. But this is America, you know? It's a big country and it's easy to get lost."

Hélène was the Keane's cook, one of the family of servants that went with the house. She was married to Émile, the butler, who took his turn next, shaking my hand and embracing me with tears in his eyes. Then their daughter Maxine, who had been a child when I last saw her, embraced me and kissed me and introduced me to
her
daughter, who embraced me and kissed me, and then they all cried again. They are French, so they behave that way. I'm a yank, so I hide my feelings; but inside I felt very moved to see them again.

What Hélène had said was true. When Albert and I had parted ways in anger so many years ago, I had pushed the whole household out of my mind, out of my heart. I didn't know any better.

Now Hélène heaped up a plate for me, and I fell upon her delicious cooking just like I had in the old days. Hélène sat and watched me eat, but Émile was antsy and excused himself. With so much activity going on in the house, he was not comfortable unless he was keeping an eye on things.

"What's going on?" I asked Hélène. She replied with a series of emphatic French gestures, but said nothing. So I looked questioningly at beautiful Jenna Yumans, whom I had been pretending to forget about while I was eating.

"We're having a huge auction, Jack, as I'm sure you can see. But I think Albert would like to be the one to tell you what it means."

"Where is Albert?"

"I don't know. The auction upset him. I'd be surprised to see him before tomorrow afternoon when this will all be over. In the meantime," she said, running her fingers back through her hair and shaking it out, "he asked me to make his apologies, and to see to your comfort. Do you like to ride?"

I tried not to swallow, but I couldn't help it. "I love to ride, Jenna."

"Then that's what I think we ought to do after we finish eating."

"You're not auctioning off the horses?"

"Not all of them." The smile was enigmatic, teasing.
Oh, Albert, hurry up before I do something I'm going to regret!

An hour later, dressed in borrowed jeans and boots, I swung myself into the saddle of a big brown stallion named Pollux. He was spirited and required quite a tight rein at first. That was all right with me. I would give him his head when the time was right. Jenna had changed into a light blouse, some kind of a cross between shorts and a skirt, and tennis sneakers. She was riding a roan mare named Cassie. We took a trail straight into the woods from behind the stables. Soon the droning of the auctioneer faded away, and we were alone among the whispering trees.

"Are you a good rider?" I asked her.

"Are you?"

"I think the main thing is not to break your neck."

"I heard you used to ride to hounds."

"Albert and I used to do that sometimes on a break from school."

"It's hard to imagine you at one of those schools."

"It was kind of an accident that landed me there."

"I didn't think you looked very comfortable in those clothes you arrived in. You look more relaxed now."

"They weren't my clothes."

"I know. They were in the drawer in the car."

She was still talking to me in that teasing manner that made everything she said seem like a little puzzle to be solved. I was very intrigued by her. I was also making the pessimistic assumption that she was Albert's girlfriend, and that I was a damn fool to be falling for her. "Whose clothes are they?"

She looked at me, and her lower lip made a little pout. She didn't want to talk about clothes. She wanted to flirt. "They're your clothes," she said. "They were bought for you."

"They fit me very nicely."

"Of course. Why would we buy you ill-fitting clothes?"

"But how did you know my size?"

She shrugged. The pout became more pronounced. She seemed a little offended. What had I done? We rode in silence to the edge of a broad meadow.

"Actually I think all clothes are stupid," she said. "Do you mind if I take mine off?" And she did, without bothering to get off the horse. First the blouse went flying. Then, with the sound of ripping Velcro, the skirt went flying after it. And there she was quite irresistibly buck naked in her tennis sneakers.

"Are you a good rider?" she asked.

It took me a moment to find my voice. "I have had a compliment or two in my time."

"Then let's see if you can catch me." Snatching up the reins like some crazed and exquisite Amazon, she whacked her heels into Cassie's flanks, and shot off across the meadow like a vision in a dream.

With a whoop, I gave chase. If anything I had underestimated Pollux's spirit, for he was mad for a gallop. In a few seconds we were bounding across the meadow after Cassie and Jenna, whose flying hair and callipygian rear had suddenly become the focus of all my energies and desires. My mind was blank, the past was gone.

It is very difficult to think while you are galloping, especially over rough terrain. Why was I chasing her? I didn't know. What did I expect to achieve? I didn't care. I was just a crazy centaur chasing another crazy centaur across the crags of the timeless past.

I chased her across the meadow, but she disappeared down another trail. I chased her down the trail and saw her plunge into the trees. I chased her through the trees, and when she splashed across a stream I splashed after her. Now we were back at the meadow, and I chased her in the opposite direction. We were both wet from the stream and whiplashed from the branches. Was she planning to go streaking through the auction?

No, she veered onto the trail toward the waterfall, and suddenly I was gripped with fear. It was not a good place to be reckless. The trail there turned into a twisty and steep dirt road that switchbacked down through a narrow canyon to the bridge in front of the waterfall. I knew it well, for it had made a hair-raising course for a Flexible Flyer when the snow was deep. On a galloping horse it would be suicide.

"Jenna, don't! Jenna, no!" I knew it was too late. At the top of the grade, I reined in sharply and looked down. Her horse was out of control. It was too steep to stop, and she would never make the last turn before the road curved down to the bridge. Far below were the big boulders of the streambed.

Someone was screaming now. Was it me? No, it was Jenna screaming at her horse, screaming Cassie up to top speed, lashing the animal with her voice. She was lying low on the withers, one hand tangled tight in Cassie's mane, the other arm gripping the horse's neck. Suddenly I saw what she had in mind.

On the other side of the canyon the road jutted out from the hill. Jenna was going to try to make it across the gorge. It was all up to the horse now. I saw Cassie break a quarter stride as she measured the distance. She knew what she had to do to survive.

Please God give that horse wings, please God don't let her fall, please God, oh please God, please!
The horse was in midair now, straining every nerve, the forelegs reaching out, the hind legs tucking up, all time compressed into one second, one beat of my heart. Now a rasp of rocks spun out into the gorge as the hooves found a few inches of purchase on the other side. Cassie was stumbling, went almost to her knees, caught herself and stood up straight, stamping in the road. Jenna was still lying flat against the horse's spine, her hand tangled in its mane.

Slowly she sat up, slowly she rolled a leg over and slid to the ground. Dropping to the grass, she wrapped her head up in her arms.

When my heart stopped pounding so desperately, I rode the short way back to the meadow and retrieved Jenna's clothes. Then I picked my way along the road past the bridge, and tied Pollux up near Cassie. Jenna accepted the clothes and pulled them on without comment or coyness.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you," she said finally. She seemed annoyed with herself.

"I'm glad you're all right, Jenna."

"I have to do things like that. I can't help it."

"You did that on purpose?"

"Well, no, of course not. But throwing my clothes off, behaving wildly . . . It's just that life gets so boring sometimes, don't you think? And when you try to liven it up, things often end badly. Why is that?"

"I don't know, Jenna. I don't know anything about life, except that it's easy to get it all screwed up, even with the best intentions."

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"Oh, yes."

It was not the answer she was expecting. "Oh? Well, I'm sorry I asked."

"I think everybody's crazy. I don't see any way around it."

"But you don't think badly of me?"

"I think you're a hell of a rider."

"Would you like to kiss me now?"

"Where do you fit in around here, Jenna?"

"Wherever I want."

"Are you Albert's girlfriend?"

"I don't belong to Albert or anybody else."

"But are you Albert's girlfriend?"

She turned angrily away. "Oh, you are so bourgeois!"

We rode home without talking. The auction was winding down for the day. After we had turned Cassie and Pollux over to the stableman, Jenna said, "I think that unless Albert comes back, we will dine out on the terrace, just the two of us. Will that be all right?"

"I'd like that, Jenna."

"Let's eat at seven. No need to dress."

"I have only that one set of clothes anyway."

"Look in your closet," she said over her shoulder as she walked away. "You'll find a few other things."

Sure enough, there were several changes of clothes in the closet of my old room, all my size and very thoughtfully chosen. For dinner on the terrace I chose slacks and a light sweater, but when I came downstairs, there didn't seem to be anyone home. The house seemed empty and hollow after the ravages of the auction, which was obviously not just the kind you have to clean out the attic. No, this was the hardcore, going-out-of-business kind of auction: everything must go! What wasn't already gone was rolled up, stacked up, or lined up on its way to the block.

I could see where some living space had been temporarily improvised, like a mini-living room consisting of a table and a few chairs near a nice window in the corner of a large and empty room. But mostly it was a ghost mansion now. It echoed; and the shades of Albert's ancestors slipped from room to room shaking their heads in dismay.