Роберт Паркер - The Bridge

“Where are you going?” I said.

“No place.”

“Then why do you say you will remember me,” I said.

She moved, taking my hand and leading me to the bed. She pulled back the covers and slid her slender body between the folds. I moved in beside her.

“You see something else?” I said.

Her blue eyes were moist. She said nothing. She just stared at me.

“Oh,” I said. “I’m the one that’s going?”

“What I know is what I told you.”

“Nothing else?” I said.

She shook her head.

“You’re not a very good liar,” I said.

“I’m not lying, Everett,” she said. “I don’t know how.”

“Everybody knows how to lie,” I said.

She shook her head.

“Not me,” she said.

“Then tell me something,” I said.

“What?”

“If you are going no place,” I said, “and you haven’t seen my inevitable demise, my Earth’s exit, why are you saying you will remember me?”

“I, too, live in uncertainty, Everett.”

“So you are going?”

She just looked at me.

“Are you?”

“I don’t know what will happen,” she said. “It is just something I feel.”

I laid back and put my hand behind my head and looked up to the ceiling.

“Some of what you told me the other night,” I said. “Some of that came to be.”

She didn’t say anything.

“How did you know?” I said. “Can you tell me?”

“I told you,” she said. “Your guides.”

I smiled.

“How did you know the name Cotter?”

She sat up on one elbow, looking at me.

“You don’t believe me, Everett,” she said. “You don’t believe in who I am and what I say.”

“I just said what you told me. Cotter is the name or alias of someone we’re after.”

“Oui,” she said, “but you think I know that because I know something, something I learned in the doing universe.”

“In the doing universe?”

“Oui.”

“What do you know about the whereabouts of Sheriff Sledge Driskill and his deputies Karl and Chip?”

She shook her head.

“Nothing,” she said.

“What do you know about Walton Wayne Swickey and G. W. Cox?”

“I don’t,” Séraphine said.

“The soldiers?”

“Nothing.”

“What else ain’t you telling me?” I said.

She shook her head and lay back.

“I don’t know anything,” she said dejectedly.

We just rested there. A long silence settled between us.

As unusual and peculiar as this union was between us, I felt more alive and somehow more aware of my surroundings.

I reached for her and I turned her face to me. She was warm. And seemed vulnerable for the first time.

“I believe you,” I said.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

She smiled at me.

“I’m glad,” she said.

“I do. I believe you when you tell me you will remember me, that you will do just that, remember me.”

She smiled warmly and I kissed her. She kissed me back, tenderly at first, then hard and passionately.

Lord...

It did not surprise me to find Séraphine was gone when I woke up in the morning. What else? I thought.

My head was heavy and I felt far less alive and aware than I had felt in the evening. I felt as though I had been drunk, but the fact was I’d had nothing, nothing but Séraphine.

I looked around the room, and with the exception of her smell and the cooled water in the tub, there was no sign she had even been there.

I looked out the window and the landscape was just as it was the day before, a blanket of snow.

I could see the depot and smoke rising up from its chimney. The tracks were completely covered as far as I could see and there was no sign of sun.

I got dressed and made my way downstairs. The lobby was empty, but the young British fella was behind the counter. He smiled at me.

I started for the door and he said, “One moment, Mr. Hitch. I’ve got something here for you.”

He retrieved a small envelope from the key box behind the desk and handed it to me. “Here you go.”

I took the envelope.

“Appreciate it,” I said.

Written across the envelope was one word. Everett.

I looked at it, and instead of opening it right away I put it in my pocket and left the hotel.

I walked by the depot and made my way back toward Virgil’s place.

I knocked on the door and Allie answered.

“Everett,” she said. “Why, good cold and snow-covered morning. Come on in.”

I stomped the snow off my boots and stepped inside.

“Lands,” Allie said. “That you?”

“Me what?”

She nuzzled her nose into my neck.

“It is,” she said. “You sure do smell pretty.”

“I took a bath,” I said.

“Well, I should say so,” Allie said.

She closed the door.

“You don’t look so good, though. You look like you seen a ghost,” she said.

“No ghost,” I said. “Not this morning, anyway. Virgil in?”

“He’ll be back in a minute,” she said. “I sent him to the grocery to fetch me some baking soda. You feeling all right?”

“I feel fine, Allie,” I said.

“Well, you smell fine.”

“Could use a cup of coffee,” I said.

“You bet,” she said. “Sit yourself down right there and make yourself comfortable, Everett.”

Allie walked to the kitchen and I took a seat at the table.

“Can you believe this weather?” Allie said.

“I can,” I said.

“Think it will ever let up?” Allie said.

“It will.”

Allie brought me a cup of coffee in a proper sipping cup with a saucer underneath.

“Fresh,” she said.

I took a sip. It was thick and had a jolt to it, but I didn’t do nothing but drink it.

Allie took a seat next to me.

“I thought about what you said last night, Everett,” Allie said. “And you are right. I was being insensitive and self-centered.”

I didn’t say anything.

“What you and Virgil have been dealing with, Everett, is far more important and critical than my pettiness and blinded shame over what has happened with Virgil’s inability to understand the arts and the man who brings them to us.”

I almost spit my coffee. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. I knew Allie well enough to know she was just getting started, so I just drank my coal-black coffee.

“This poor man, Beauregard, is misunderstood and good-hearted, but that is no reason to give his unfortunate circumstances more attention, more credence than the serious circumstances that you and Virgil are facing. Not to mention my quarrel with Virgil is petty of me to even consider in times like these.”

Allie put her hand on my hand.

“So. I want to thank you for setting me straight, Everett,” Allie said.

I nodded.

“You know, Everett,” Allie said. “I just have to stop thinking about myself. So I’ve decided I will do what I can do to give, instead of constantly needing to receive.”

“What are you thinking about giving?” I said.

“Well,” Allie said. “I’m glad you ask. For starters, I thought about poor Mrs. Beauchamp.”

“What have you thought about her?” I said.

“Well, what with this weather like it is and with her being secluded,” Allie said. “I feel it is my civic duty to see to it she doesn’t get herself in the way of Beauregard and his creative needs, so I’m going to invite her over for tea.”

Allie smiled, big.

I just looked at her.

“Who knows,” Allie said. “Perhaps we will become good friends.”

“Who knows?” I said.

“Yes,” she said. “Who knows?”

“You think that is a good idea?” I said.