Charles De Lint - Memory and Dream

“You’re going to sell it?” John asked.

Izzy shook her head. “Oh, no. Rushkin says it’s good to have a couple of NSF pieces hanging with the ones that are for sale—it supposedly gets people into the buying mood.

And besides, I think it’s one of my best pieces.”

“I’d feel you were selling a part of me, if you did sell it,” John told her.

Izzy knew what he meant. Though she’d painted it before she’d met him, she still thought of it the way people thought of the first time they met, or a first date.

“I could never sell it,” she assured him.

XV

From The Newford Sun, Thursday, November 28, 1974

POLICE HUNT VIGILANTES

by Maria Hill Newford Sun

Police have launched a manhunt for the killers of three Butler University students brutally beaten to death yesterday.

Robert Mandel, 19, John Collins, 19, and Darcy McClintock, 20, died after being savagely attacked in Lower Crowsea at approximately 11:30 P.M., police said.

The bodies of the three students were discovered in a car parked in front of the Crowsea Precinct at 1:00 A.M. by Const. Craig Chavez. The car was registered to McClintock.

With the bodies was a note alleging that the three students were responsible for the brutal assault and rape last month of a female Butler University student.

Detectives have few details on the vigilantes and are appealing to the public to help provide information, said NPD spokesman, Sgt. Howard Benzies.

“We have no idea how many were involved in the attack,” said Benzies, adding that there was also no indication whether the fatal assault took place inside or outside the car.

Police had no comment when asked if there was any evidence that the victims had been involved in the assault last month.

An extensive search of the area by police officers failed to find the murder weapons.

Anyone with information is asked to call the Crowsea Precinct at 263—1112.

> Grief Hits Pals Hard as Victims Mourned: Page 5

> Rise of Violence on Campus: Page 5 > Editorial: Page 10

XVI

At first, all Izzy could do was stare at the frontpage headline of the newspaper that Kathy had left out for her to read. Then she began to read the piece. She forgot all about getting herself a coffee or making breakfast as she worked her way through the various articles and finally the editorial related to that headline.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Kathy said, coming into their little kitchen from the shower. “Justice is served.”

She had a towel wrapped around her wet hair, another wrapped around her torso. Filling a couple of mugs with coffee, she brought them over to the table and sat down across from Izzy.

“Do you think they really are the guys that attacked Rochelle?” Izzy asked. “God, I hope so. I don’t know who killed them, but they should get a medal for giving the scum what they deserved.”

Izzy wasn’t so sure. While she certainly didn’t want Rochelle’s attackers to remain at large, if these really were the same men, the punishment seemed too extreme. Jail, yes. Lock them up forever, even.

But to be beaten to death like this ...

“I take it you don’t agree,” Kathy said.

“It’s not that. It’s just ...”

“Excessive.”

“I guess.”

Kathy sighed. “Look. If they did it once, the odds are they’d do it again. Rochelle wasn’t necessarily the first woman they attacked, and she certainly wouldn’t have been the last.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Statistics bear me out on this one,” Kathy said. “It’s not something I want to be right about—believe me.”

“I know,” Izzy said.

But her mind wasn’t really on the conversation anymore. She was thinking instead of that night with John in Perry’s Diner, when she’d told him about what had happened to Rochelle. He’d looked so grim.

The ones who hurt her will receive their just reward, John had told her that night. This I can promise you.

John with his violent past.

John of whom she still really knew next to nothing.

John who’d also told her, I always keep my promises. My word’s the only currency I’ve got that’s of any real worth. I don’t spend it lightly.

John who, she’d discovered since, always did keep his word.

John who’d assured her that Rochelle’s attackers would pay for what they had done.

This I can promise you.

Her gaze drifted back to the newspaper. Phrases leapt up from the newsprint and went spinning through her mind.

‘‘... brutally beaten to death ...”

. savagely attacked ...”

. fatal assault ...”

The scary thing was that she could imagine John doing it. Gentle as he was with her, she knew how strong he was, how much he abhorred injustice, how he had no fear of breaking the law because they were “white man’s laws. We never agreed to them.”

What kind of a friend are you, she asked herself, that you’d even suspect such a thing of him?

This I can promise you.

And then she thought: Angels and monsters. Spirits called from beyond. Guardian spirits ... and vengeful ones as well?

She shook her head. This was crazy. But she couldn’t suppress a shiver all the same.

“You okay?” Kathy asked.

Izzy nodded. “I’m just a little creeped out, that’s all.” She let her gaze rove to the kitchen clock.

“God, look at the time. I’ve got to get to the studio.”

“What? Rushkin’s got you punching a time clock now?”

“No. It’s just that I’ve got a class at two, but I really wanted to finish off this painting I’ve been working on.”

She managed to make her retreat and leave their discussion finished without having to bring up the fear of John’s involvement in last night’s murders that had lodged inside her. But she couldn’t make it go away, either. It stayed with her all day, affecting her ability to paint, distracting her in class. She felt guilty for even thinking what she was thinking, but it loomed so large in her mind now that she knew she had to hear John’s innocence proclaimed from his own lips before she could let it go.

My word’s the only currency I’ve got that’s of any real worth. I don’t spend it lightly.

He wouldn’t lie to her. She trusted in that much. Even if he had killed those men last night, he wouldn’t lie to her when she asked him about it.

She felt like such a traitor when she spotted him cutting across the common to meet her after class.

He looked the picture of innocence as he ambled over the grass, hands thrust deep in his jeans; his hair the glossy black of raven feathers, swallowing the sunlight; the white of his T-shirt showing through his open coat even though everybody else was buttoned up and wearing scarves and hats and gloves. When he got close enough, he didn’t even say hello, just swept her into his arms and gave her a long kiss that left her happily breathless. But the question that had plagued her all day rose up between them and stole away her pleasure in the moment.

“Did you read in the paper about what happened to those guys that attacked Rochelle last month?”

she asked as they started to walk back across the common.

John shook his head. “No, but I heard about it. I told you retribution was waiting for them on the wheel that they’d chosen. It was only a matter of time.”

“Do you think they deserved to die?”

He paused and turned to look at her. “What you’re really asking is, did I do it?”

Izzy couldn’t read the expression in his features. He didn’t look sad, or even disappointed in her, but there was something new there all the same. “I guess I am,” she said.