John Saul - The Devil's Labyrinth

“Oh darling, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, leaning close, not wanting to wake him if he was sleeping, but wanting to be sure he heard if he was awake. Ryan opened his eyes and gazed at her for a moment. Then his eyes shifted to Tom Kelly, and Teri thought she saw them narrow for a split second before he let them fall closed again.

Tom brought over a chair, and Teri sank into it, taking hold of her son’s limp hand. “Who did this?” she asked gently. “Someone from school?”

Ryan opened his eyes again and looked at her, his swollen lips attempting a grim smile.

“Don’t try to talk,” Teri told him. “Just nod or shake your head if it doesn’t hurt too much. Have the police talked with you?”

Ryan nodded.

“Do they know who did this?”

Ryan shook his head.

“Well, we’ll find them,” Teri assured him. “They won’t get away with this.” Her voice began to rise. “We’ll send—”

She felt Tom’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and took a deep breath.

Once again Ryan’s eyes opened, and now he tried to form a word with his battered mouth. Teri poured a glass of water from the plastic pitcher on his nightstand, took the wrapper off a fresh straw, and held it to his lips as he sucked weakly. Still, the little water he managed seemed to help. “Just — just forget it,” he whispered.

Teri stared at him. “Forget it?” she echoed.

Ryan took as deep a breath as he could, exhaling it in a rattling sigh. “It’ll just make it worse for me,” he said, struggling to pronounce each word clearly.

“How could anything be worse than this?” Teri asked, but even as she spoke, she knew exactly what worse could look like.

Ryan could be dead.

As if he’d read the thought in her expression, Ryan closed his eyes and sank deeper into his pillow.

Teri sat back in her chair, unconsciously smoothing her skirt. How long had he lain in that bathroom? she wondered. Had he been lying there unconscious in a pool of his own blood all the time she’d been sitting in the restaurant with Tom? How could she have done it? How could she have gone out on a date — a date ! — without knowing exactly where her son was? What kind of mother was she? If only she could trade places with him; she should have been beaten up, not him.

If only Bill were here! He’d know what to do. Why did he have to die? He ought to be here helping her. Helping her, and helping Ryan! Tears welled behind her eyes, but she steeled herself against them; the last thing Ryan needed right now was to have her start crying.

The hospital room door opened and a young doctor with a stethoscope hanging around his neck strode in and offered her his hand.

“Mrs. McIntyre? I’m Dr. Barris. Your boy here seems to be a lot stronger than he looks right now. We took CAT scans of his head and torso, and he actually looks a lot worse off than he is. There’s some bruising, but he’ll be just fine.”

Teri felt a little bit of her burden of guilt lift at the doctor’s words. “When can he come home? Tonight?”

Barris shook his head. “It’s bad enough to make us want to keep him overnight for observation, but if nothing worrisome develops, I’ll discharge him tomorrow. Sunday at the latest.”

“Well at least that’s good news,” Teri sighed. She gave Ryan’s hand a quick squeeze. “Did you hear that?”

Ryan nodded, but didn’t open his eyes.

“We’ve given him something for the pain,” Barris went on. He should be down for the night within about ten more minutes.”

“Can I stay with him?” Teri asked. “Just sit here?”

The doctor shrugged noncommittally, but Tom Kelly shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Just let him sleep.”

“But what if he needs something?” Teri pleaded and suddenly Tom understood exactly what was really in her mind.

“He’s not going to need anything, and if he does, he’s got a whole nursing staff to take care of it for him. But I’ll bet he’d like you to be awake tomorrow, instead of passing out whenever he tries to talk to you.”

Teri looked helplessly at Ryan. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be breathing regularly and easily. Tom was right — there was nothing she could do for him tonight. “Okay,” she said, rising shakily to her feet.

“I’ll see you all in the morning, then,” Dr. Barris said. His pager beeped, he glanced at it, then said a quick good-bye and left the room.

Teri leaned over the edge of the bed and kissed Ryan on the cheek, then smoothed his hair, which was still damp from the nurse washing the blood out of it. She looked down at her son, her chest tight. “Good night, honey,” she said, brushing his cheek with her lips. “Sweet dreams.”

Ryan neither opened his eyes, nor gave any acknowledgment that he’d heard her words.

† † †

In the car, Teri finally let her tears flow. Tom drove slowly and said nothing, letting her deal with her roiling emotions. But when he got to her house, he pulled into the driveway, killed the engine and turned off the lights. “I think maybe I’d better come in, at least for a while,” he said softly.

Teri blew her nose, took a couple of deep breaths, and nodded.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” she said a few minutes later as she started making a pot of coffee. “We should be able to press charges against whoever did this to Ryan. But I know what he means — it could just make things worse for him!”

“I have a suggestion,” Tom said, taking the milk out of the refrigerator, setting it on the kitchen table, then sitting down.

“I know,” Teri sighed. “St. Isaac’s. But even if he agreed to go and we could get him in, I can’t see how I could possibly manage the money. Bill’s death benefits just weren’t that much.”

“St. Isaac’s has to have some kind of financial aid program.” He hesitated, then: “And I’m not totally broke.”

Teri’s eyes glistened with tears even as she shook her head. “That’s incredibly sweet of you, but you know I can’t take your money,” she said, then held up a protesting hand as Tom opened his mouth to argue with her. “And even if I could, I don’t think I want Ryan living somewhere else.”

“And those kids who beat him up will be back at Dickinson High on Monday morning,” Tom reminded her.

Exhaustion flowed through Teri like liquid lead. “Oh, God,” she sighed as she looked around for clean coffee cups, then just pulled two from this morning out of the dishwasher.

“Listen,” Tom pressed. “I know someone who works at St. Isaac’s. Let me at least give him a call and see what the possibilities are. At this point we don’t even know if we can get Ryan in. But let’s at least find out what the options are, okay?”

“Okay,” Teri agreed, too numb to argue. “And who knows? Maybe that’s where he should be.” She poured each of them a cup of coffee, set the pot down on the table, and sank into the chair opposite Tom, who reached across and took her hand, squeezing it as gently as she’d squeezed Ryan’s a little while ago.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re not completely by yourself, you know. And things will get better.”

She nodded her head. That was good to hear, even though she didn’t believe it.

KIP ADAMSON WAS leaning against a brick wall. The thing was, he had no idea why he was there, or how long he’d been there, or even where the wall itself was. He felt oddly paralyzed, afraid to move, afraid even to look around, as if any movement at all might cause whatever reality he was in to vanish as abruptly as it had come.

But was it real? Maybe he was dreaming — in fact, he had to be dreaming, since nothing about either his surroundings or his body felt real at all.