Black as Night: A Fairy Tale Retold (42 page)

“Yes. By my first wife, Catherine. Who died of cancer.”

She stared at the sick man. Of course that’s why Mr. Fairston seemed so familiar. Now she saw the family resemblance beneath the marks of age and illness.

He squeezed a corner of the blanket with his good hand. “Elaine told me Arthur and Ben were just arrested again for drug possession. She showed me the notice about it in the paper. So I know it’s true.”

She hadn’t moved, even though her heart was racing, probably faster than was good for her heart. It was silly, completely irrational, but when she heard the bad news about Bear’s arrest, the only thing she could think was,
He’s back. He’s come back.

V

“Did you see a white girl with short black hair come through here recently?” Brother Leon asked the man at the token counter on the subway. It was a chance in a million. He didn’t know if Blanche had taken the subway. And even if she had, she might have either had a token or gotten one from the machines.

“I have no idea if I did or I didn’t!” the man said, looking up at him with a perplexed smile.

“Thanks anyway,” Leon reddened, and retreated.

“So what do we do now?” Charley asked. He and Matt looked at him soberly.

“Um—I’m not sure,” he said.

He looked around as they walked back down the stairs, and spotted a homeless man stretched out in the shade of the staircase. He was surrounded by three mangy dogs on leashes that wagged their tails when they saw the friars.

“Brother Leon!” the man said, sitting up, and Leon recognized him from his neighborhood rounds.

“Hey Robbie, how are you?” he asked, reaching out to touch the man’s hand.

“Doin’ fine,” the man rasped, shaking his hand.

“How’s the pooches?” Brother Leon tousled the head of the nearest dog, which licked his hand appreciatively. The other dogs were already checking out Matt and Charley.

“That one got himself kicked by a jerk who came through here last night at midnight. Poor Molly was just being friendly, and he kicked her. Lookit!” The man indicated the smaller dog, which was holding its leg up as it stood, in a half-hearted attempt not to put any weight on it.

“That’s too bad,” Leon said, examining the dog. “Look, you come by the friary and I’ll have Brother George take a look at it, okay? He knows a lot about animals.”

“He does? Thanks. Maybe I will.”

“Robbie, have you seen a young white girl with short kinda ragged black hair down this way anytime this evening?”

Robbie looked around meditatively. “Well, there was a girl—a pretty one—who came through looking like that. Bout half hour to an hour ago?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Indian girl? With one of those scarf and nightgown things?”

Brother Leon squatted down. “What? You mean in a sari or something?”

“Yeah, all pink and blue with stars. Kind of wild.”

Of course—she had been wearing her Guadalupe costume!
Leon reddened to think he had forgotten that. “Yes, that sounds like her.”

“Yeah, I saw her when I was up there, afore the man kicked me and my dogs out. She got on the train.”

“Did you see which way she went?”

“Towards Manhattan, I’m pretty sure.”

Brother Leon’s heart skipped a beat. “Thanks, Robbie, thanks a lot.” He hurried up the steps to the train, with the other novices following close behind.

VI

Bear had moved further into the windowless office, watching the computer monitor with its spy video camera capturing every word that Blanche said, every move she made.

On the screen, Bear’s father looked at the girl warily. “I hope you’re not going to try and tell me that he’s innocent? I can tell you I’ve heard that story, many times before, from Arthur.”

“I know he’s innocent,” the girl said firmly. For some reason she was smiling as she pushed back her chopped hair.

“Blanche, you know, it bothers me that you never told me you two were dating.”

“I didn’t know.” She half-laughed and got to her feet. “I mean, I didn’t know he was your son. All I knew was that he wasn’t on good terms with his father, and…” she turned away, putting a hand to her hair to push it back behind her ear. It was a familiar gesture, but the hair was now so short it didn’t stay.
And she cut her hair...?
he distractedly thought to himself.

The girl crossed to the bedside table, her face away from the hidden microphone, so Bear missed her words. Then she turned back towards the bed, and he heard her saying, “…but mostly he just never talked much about you. And, the name Fairston, well, he never mentioned that you had changed your name.”

“Maybe he didn’t know about that, though I was sure Elaine had told him and Ben,” the man said slowly.

The girl set down the bottle of medication. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to change the subject—but there is another reason I came over here. I—I saw Elaine. And she said you were planning on committing suicide.”

The man put his head to one side. “Did she? That’s odd. Well, I told her a few days ago that I’d changed my mind.”

“You did?”

The man seemed embarrassed and raised his good hand to his straggling hair to try to smooth it. “Well, the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to me that I was depressed. You told me that once, remember? It sort of stuck in my mind, and I kept wondering if—well, I thought perhaps I should talk to a counselor first. Consult a professional.”

“Why not a priest? It would cost you a lot less,” the girl said, almost teasingly as she sat down again. Bear winced, but his father only chuckled.

“I knew you would say that. Blanche, I just don’t know. I’m one of those people who’s had bad experiences with priests.”

“Well, I’ve met a few good ones,” the girl said. Then she paused. “Did you know Father Michael Raymond?”

“Blanche, don’t even go there. I’m sorry, I can’t discuss this, even with you. It’s a shame he got killed, but I had one too many conversations with him. Plus, I heard a whole lot more about him than I ever wanted to hear from my sons, believe me. And—well, from Catherine, too.” The man sank back into the pillows, his face looking hollow. His good eye closed, but the other remained half-suspended between sleep and waking.

There was silence, and the microphone instantly sucked up the lack of sound into feedback.

The man spoke again, and the microphone rapidly adjusted, cutting off his first words. “—thing that bothers me—if you are dating Arthur, do you know why he won’t speak to me? You’d think that if he knew I was dying, he would show a little bit of concern.”

“I don’t think he knows,” the girl said.

“That’s impossible. Elaine told me she’d—”

The girl leaned forward. “I don’t think you should believe…” Then she rose. “Look. I’ve been in nursing homes this summer, Mr. Fairston, and you aren’t being cared for properly. Even the low-income homes make sure that…” Blanche had turned away from the microphone, and her last words were cut off.

Getting closer so he could hear, Bear took a step forward towards the monitor, bumping the settee that stood against the wall and putting a hand on one of its corner knobs to steady himself. It wobbled beneath his touch.

He looked down at it.

Acting on an impulse, he pulled the round knob out of the post and looked into the hole. Lying stacked one on top of the other in the small hole were several pastel pills. He could just make out the curlicue M of the one on top.

Suddenly, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and, before he could react, something was clamped over his nose and mouth. A sweet smell overpowered him and he dropped out of consciousness.

Chapter Twenty-Two

At last she had a chance to tell him everything she had been seeing that was wrong—the attitude of the nurses, the neglect of what should be basic hygiene…she rattled off her concerns, and ended, “I regularly visit a publicly-funded home where conditions aren’t the best, but you would be getting better care there than what I’ve seen here.”

Shaken by her diatribe, she sat down, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She rubbed them, and noticed, oddly, that they seemed to be rather numb.
Being this upset is not good for my heart,
she thought automatically, and took a deep breath, trying to relax.

Mr. Fairston was visibly thrown. He almost looked frightened, because only one side of his face could show the shock. “If you noticed this, why didn’t you say anything before?” he managed to say.

“I don’t know,” she said miserably, and wearily brushed back her hair. “I suppose I thought it wasn’t my business…I didn’t want to question your judgment…or Elaine’s. After all, Elaine and I barely know each other.”

“But sometimes someone coming in from outside can see things we can’t see ourselves,” Mr. Fairston said, his expression calming. “I know that wasn’t easy for you to bring up.”

“Just bringing it up’s not much good unless it will make a difference,” Blanche rubbed her hands again, and tried not to be worried about their coldness. “You need to get better care, and the sooner, the better. I just don’t know if—” The sheer persistence of Elaine in tracking down that medicine bottle told her that something was still very wrong. She wondered why Elaine hadn’t yet returned.
Perhaps the friars managed to grab her
, she thought hopefully.
Perhaps it’s over. And Bear is back…but is he in jail? I really hope not. In any case, I should get going before Elaine returns…

“Are you feeling all right?” Mr. Fairston asked her, tilting his head to one side, which she recognized was his way of gesturing.

“Oh, yes.” She picked up the teacup with both hands, hoping the warm cup would heat her hands, and took a sip. But she could barely feel its heat.

“That’s funny, because I was just thinking you were looking worse.”

A wave of nausea passed over her, and she put a hand to her stomach.
It’s just because I haven’t eaten much all day,
she told herself.
And my heart hasn’t been beating normally. Probably that sweet desert was the last thing my system needed after those pastries we had at the party.

She managed to take a long drink of tea, and the nausea passed, but a strange heaviness, like exhaustion, had started to hit her. It must have been her run from the friary to the subway, then running from the subway to here, all the while terrified of the specter she had left behind her. “I’m just tired, that’s all.” She could tell that Mr. Fairston was getting tired, too. She should let him sleep.

“How’s work been going? Have you been getting up too early?”

“I haven’t been going to work,” she said, yawning. “Actually…”

But she decided that she didn’t want to go into it right now. Brother Leon would be mad enough with her for leaving after she had promised to stay. “I’m sorry, I’m just so tired. I should get going.”

II

“How the heck are we going to find out which stop she got off?” Brother Matt asked as they stood on the subway train, having begged some tokens from passersby.

“I’m going to make a guess that she’s going to get off on 96
^th
Street,” Leon said, scanning the subway map.

“You mean where Bonnie got off last time you followed her?”

“Yeah. After all, Nora went to the subway just like Bonnie did. How much do you want to bet they’re going to the same place?”

“And where are we going to go from there?”

“Uh—we could just—walk around until we find her, I guess.”

“This is crazy,” Matt rubbed the stubble on his blond head.

“But it’s all we have to go on,” Charley rumbled.

Leon just prayed.

III

The dull taste on his tongue became unbearable, and he swallowed. There was a smell around him of carpet, plastic, perfume, and dust. Someone had rolled him onto his stomach, and his face was pressed into the floor. Bear rolled his head to the side and opened his eyes, blinking in the light, to see a spreading plain of orange and blue triangles on a nubby carpet. He was still in the office.