Part 19 (2/2)

Phil looked at ht now, Clay People do stupid things at times like this” I didn't knohether heafter Aubrey left

”I guess you're right” But I didn't believe our situations were si with the kids so Dan can get soue Sheila's three children were, if I reht

I al to help, but I stopped ”I'm sorry to hear all of this,” I said instead

”Hey, IYou need to get that thing finished, man, because I can't wait to see how it ends”

Me, too

MY VISION SPECKLED AS I paused on the first floor, s felt swollen, tight, and wooden I caught et more exercise And while that was true, I also kneas neither overweight nor terribly out of shape When I was done with this manuscript, when I finished and it was out the door, I would see a doctor And while that was true, I also kneas neither overweight nor terribly out of shape When I was done with this manuscript, when I finished and it was out the door, I would see a doctor

As I let ain if Lucian, once he had accomplished his mission, would disappear fro it, as he had on the T T? There was a ti his intrusions Now I found I could not iht I stayed up well past two o'clock working on my book

By the ties, over 85,000 words-a perfectly respectable length for a book It needed nothing now but an ending Butshorter, he had said Then where was he?

TWO DAYS LATER SHEILA'S desk stood empty Not only ean on the back of her chair but of the framed photos of her family, the pencil holder her son Justinpaperweight with googly eyes and Caleb's name carefully painted on the side Only her candy dish remained

When I asked Phil what had happened, he said she had given her notice, that she was taking the kids and olf course

”Has anyone called Dan?” I felt vaguely like a schht I should many times

”I've tried, but he won't answer I don't think he wants to talk”

I knew that feeling And I didn't blame hi I tried to work in spite ofmore to add to the manuscript I felt powerless, creatively stunted, andjacket copy for next season's releases, to remeh to go to bat for a larger advanceand then went back to ra with the tic I had only recently discovered that I possessed I did all of this with growing disquiet,it, unable to quell the unease snaking through ut

And then I reh my deleted folder and found it, the one about the teive the full address-only the Light1 moniker-but on a whim I clicked Reply

I wrote three words:

Where are you?

SOMETIME PAST 3:00 AM I fell asleep onof blood on doorways, wine in the Passover cup, of da of a bell, of bells ringing over Arlington Street, bells slapping against the door of a cafe, bells

My cell phone was ringing

I ruh the pockets of the jacket I had left on the kitchen table Finding the phone, I noted the caller: ”Private” I thought of Sheila I would be kinder, I thought I had not realized how volatile, how precarious, her mind-set was

”hello?”

The voice, when it caht have been a nize it

”Lucian?”

Silence I was irab etLucian?”

A chill crawled from my shoulders to my nape

”Is that you?” I whispered, my heart so loud in my ears I wondered if I'd be able to hear the reply It came, with a soft rasp

”No” And then, ”No, Clay Clay”

I clapped the phone shut, ainst my ribs

I sat very still My door was locked My co room lamps were on I stared out past the , at the black, predawn night

I made myself stand and walk first to one la each of them off with a quiet click In the darkness I felt vulnerable, blind I closed my eyes and slowly opened them, made out the shapes of my desk, my sofa, the television on its stand, the caserasped it with one hand Thelooked out at the space between ainst the fra out toward the street

At first I didn't see it-not until I swept ainst the porch post of a house across the street, black against the darkness, looking up at me

I knew, instinctively, that it was not Lucian I jerked back from the

I hurried into my bedroom, shut and locked the door behind me, climbed beneath the covers on my bed, and listened to the percussion of my own heart