Part 40 (1/2)
I realized I was still clutching Harry's mobile. I turned to place it on the desk.
Ryan twisted my hair in his fist, kissed me hard on the mouth. I kissed back.
Tossed the phone.
Our fingers groped for b.u.t.tons and zippers.
The digits on my clock glowed 8:34. At some point I, or we, had migrated to my bed. Rolling to my back, I extended an arm.
Cold needles p.r.i.c.kled my chest. I was alone.
The refrigerator door whooshed, then a drawer rattled.
Relieved, I grabbed a robe and hurried to the kitchen.
Ryan was fully dressed, holding a beer, staring off into s.p.a.ce. Suddenly it struck me. He looked exhausted.
”Hey,” I said.
Ryan started at my voice. ”Hey.”
Our eyes met. Ryan grinned a grin I couldn't interpret. Sadness? Nostalgia? Postcoitus languor?
”You good?” Ryan asked, extending an arm.
”I'm good.”
”You look tense.”
”I'm worried about Harry.”
”If you want I can put out a few feelers, check airlines, trains, car rental agencies.”
”No. Not yet. I-” I what? Overreacting? Being cavalier? The anonymous call and e-mail had implied a threat to my sister as well as to me. ”Harry's just so impulsive. I never know what she'll do.”
”Come here.”
I moved to Ryan. He hugged me.
”So,” Ryan said.
”So,” I repeated.
Awkward tension filled the kitchen. Birdie wandered in and broke it.
”Birdster!” Ryan squatted to deliver an ear scratch.
”Do you have to rush off?” I asked. To Lutetia? I meant.
”Is that a hint?”
”Not at all. If you're hungry I can throw something together. But I understand if you have to get back...”
Ryan's knee popped as he rose. ”I'm starving.”
I made my standard bare-cupboard meal. Linguine with clam sauce and a tossed salad. As we prepared the food and ate, I told Ryan what I'd found out about Hippo's girl. He listened, asked good questions.
”Leprosy. Like, clapper and bell, unclean, go away?”
”The bells were as much to attract charity as to warn people they were approaching the sick. By the way, it's now called Hansen's disease.”
”Why?”
”Mycobacterium leprae was discovered by Hansen in 1873. It was the first bacterium identified as causing disease in man.” was discovered by Hansen in 1873. It was the first bacterium identified as causing disease in man.”
”Whatever the label, it's a bad trip.”
”Leprosy actually exists in two forms, tuberculoid and lepromatous. The former is much milder, sometimes resulting in little more than depigmentation spots. Lepromatous leprosy is far more serious. Skin lesions, nodules, plaques, thickened dermis. In some cases the nasal mucosa becomes involved, resulting in chronic congestion and nosebleeds.”
”Not to mention the little b.u.g.g.e.rs cause your flesh to rot.”
”That's actually a misconception. It's the body's attempt to rid itself of the bacterium that causes tissue destruction, excessive regeneration, and eventually mutilation, not the bacterium itself. More salad?”
”Bring it on.”
I handed Ryan the bowl.
”I keep seeing that scene from Ben Hur. Ben Hur.”
I raised both brows.
”Ben Hur's mother and sister got leprosy so they had to live in a cave in a deserted quarry. The colony was fed by lowering food over the quarry rim.”
”OK.”
Ryan twirled and downed the last of his pasta. ”Now that I think about it, I vaguely recall rumors of leprosy in the Maritimes. But it was always hush-hush. I think there was a leprosarium somewhere out there.”
”Yes. Sheldrake Island.”
”Nah.” Ryan's forehead wrinkled in thought. ”This was a hospital. I'm thinking New Brunswick. Campbellton? Caraquet?” Ryan swallowed, then air-jabbed his fork in sudden realization. ”I'll be d.a.m.ned. It was Tracadie. There was a lazaretto in Tracadie.”
”The town of Tracadie? As in Evangeline? Obeline? Bastarache?” I was so shocked I sounded like a moron. Or a teacher calling roll.
”Trendy burg.”