Blackwood Farm (34 page)

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Authors: Anne Rice

Tags: #Fiction

BOOK: Blackwood Farm
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19

“BY THE TIME
we reached Mayfair Medical I was a gibbering idiot in a bloody nightshirt. I was in the back of Aunt Queen's limo with her on one side and Clem on the other and Big Ramona in front of us, on the J seat, and Jasmine at the far end of the J, back to the driver, everybody begging me to calm down. Clem's fingers were biting into my arm and Aunt Queen was exerting as much pressure as she could. At one point, Big Ramona told Aunt Queen to move, and she took ahold of me like a professional wrestler.

“It was the old story. The more you tell people you're not insane the crazier they think you are. And they clearly thought I was crazy.

“How many times did I say that the intruder had been in the house? How many times did they tell me that was impossible? How many times did I tell them that Goblin broke the glass, Goblin saved my life, how many times did they exchange their urgent heartfelt glances?

“I was still raving when we pulled into the Emergency porte cochere, and they had a gurney ready for me. Of course I swore up and down that I didn't need it. Then I realized I was barefoot and my feet were scratched from the glass. All right. Hospital regulations.

“I could have dressed properly before we ever left home, if only people had listened.

“But off I went into the Emergency Room, where the nightshirt was unceremoniously cut off and topical medicines were applied to the cuts and scrapes all over me.

“As to my head, I told them that the pain was killing me. The stranger had slammed me against the wall. Give me something for my headache if you do nothing else. You can forget about the scratches and bruises.

“And bruises there were aplenty. And when I saw how bad they were, I started yelling for Aunt Queen and Jasmine to come. Oh, if only Pops were here! Oh, damn!

“They began to tie me down and I went truly crazy.

“All the time, Goblin was with me, very strong, very visible, his face full of concern, but I didn't dare try to speak to him and he knew it. After the energy he had used I couldn't understand why he still looked so dense and so powerful. He didn't like what was happening. He made no bones about it. And suddenly I became terrified that he would start breaking the glass and the whole scene would devolve into chaos.

“ ‘Goblin, don't do anything in here,' I said, staring at him. ‘It will only make it worse. Let me just play it on out.'

“Then Dr. Winn Mayfair himself, proud scion of the legendary Mayfair family and working head of the whole complex, approached the gurney. It seemed a spell fell over the Emergency Room, doctors and nurses mesmerized by the mere presence of the guy.

“I calmed down too. I was quite literally bound hand and foot, and why should I object to this doctor examining me?

“Now, the only reason I knew anything about Dr. Winn Mayfair was that Lynelle had told me all about him. He had been born in New Orleans, reared in Boston and become a physician up North, coming South only when the family here contacted him and offered him a dream job at the new medical center.

“He had become the partner and confidant of Rowan Mayfair, the other M.D. member of the famous clan, the one who had created and endowed the center and designed all its special features.

“It was Dr. Winn who took over the actual day-to-day management of everything, whereas Dr. Rowan worked tirelessly in research having to do with human growth hormone, Lynelle's old dream.

“Somewhere behind the scenes was Dr. Winn's father, Dr. Elliott Mayfair, a cardiac surgeon, and he had also been persuaded to transplant back home, and Rowan, Elliott and Winn Mayfair were the backbone of the establishment.

“Dr. Winn had a reputation for having a very quiet voice and a very gentle touch. His field had been neurosurgery—the same field as that of Dr. Rowan Mayfair—and the two were said to be cousins who resembled each other in temperament and gifts, as well as physical looks, though they had only met recently, each quite astonished at the other.

“Lynelle had worshiped the guy.

“What I saw was a smooth, brilliant and attentive man, tall and lean, who had been roused from bed to meet Miss Lorraine McQueen and her legendary boy prodigy who communed with the Dead.

“He had beautifully groomed silver blond hair and cold blue eyes behind rectangular wire-rimmed glasses, and he talked to me under his breath, which tended to give his words a confidential tone, which I frankly welcomed. He also spoke slowly.

“At once he took my blood pressure himself, though a nurse had done it before, and then he looked into both my pupils. He put his stethoscope to my head, listening for the longest time, as though my brain were talking to him. Then he felt my glands and he inspected the bruises on my arms. His touch was reverent.

“ ‘I know your head hurts,' he said in a liquid voice, ‘but we can't give you anything for the pain that might mask the symptoms of the head injury. As soon as they've finished with these lacerations, we're taking you for a CAT scan.'

“ ‘I didn't do this to myself,' I said. ‘I'm not insane. You won't find any lesions in my temporal lobe. Mark my word. I'm miserable right now, but I'm not crazy.'

“He looked at me intently and for a long moment, and then he said, ‘They told me you were eighteen, is that right?'

“ ‘Just about nineteen,' I said. ‘Does eighteen and a half mean anything?'

“He smiled. ‘Yes, I suppose it does,' he said. ‘We won't be looking for seizures or lesions now. We're looking for bleeding from the wound that's causing your headache. We're going to be waking you up if you fall asleep. Now I'm going to get out of the way, and I'll see you after the CAT scan.'

“ ‘You're a neurosurgeon, right?' I said. I wanted to hold on to him. ‘Well, I swear to you that what I saw didn't come from my brain and I don't want you to cut a piece out of it. I'd rather rave in a padded cell than have that happen.'

“Two orderlies, or at least that's what I thought they were, had come to take me away, but he gestured for them to wait.

“ ‘Tell me yourself,' he said, ‘what happened to you.'

“ ‘This stranger, this man who'd been trespassing on a swamp hermitage on our property—he got into my bedroom in spite of the guards around our house, and he dragged me out of bed, pulled me into the bathroom, banged my head against the wall and cursed at me and threatened me.'

“I stopped. I didn't want to tell him about Goblin. Some deep instinct told me not to tell him about Goblin. But that instinct didn't stop me from silently summoning Goblin, and, quite suddenly, Goblin stood at the foot of the gurney, still looking extremely solid and vividly colored, which was amazing after his ordeal, and he shook his head in a firm negation.

“ ‘There was broken glass,' I said, ‘from the lavatory mirror and the shower door. I think I got a few scrapes, nothing more than that.'

“ ‘How did this intruder drag you from bed?' Dr. Winn asked.

“ ‘By my arms.'

“Dr. Winn looked at both my arms. They were black and blue now. He studied them thoughtfully.

“Dr. Winn then asked me to lean forward so he could see the back of my head. I did, and I felt his amazingly gentle fingers touching a huge bump there. His touch sent a tingling all through me.

“Again, Goblin shook his head No.
Don't tell him about us. He will hurt me.

“ ‘Do you believe me now?' I asked. ‘That I didn't do this to myself?'

“ ‘Oh, yes, I believe you completely,' he said. ‘None of your injuries are self-inflicted. For a variety of reasons it's quite impossible for them to have been self-inflicted. But we've got to get that CAT scan.'

“I was immensely relieved.

“The CAT scan was a relatively simple ordeal, which revealed that there was no bleeding inside of my head and that my brain was not swelling, and immediately after Dr. Mayfair confirmed these results I was wheeled to a fairly lavish suite consisting of a living room and two bedrooms. One bedroom was mine. Aunt Queen was setting up shop in the other one. Jasmine, who had gone home for her clothes, was already back but would soon have to leave again.

“I promised to leave the IV alone and to cooperate with everything if the restraints were removed, and Dr. Mayfair agreed to this readily.

“ ‘There are guards on the door, aren't there?' I asked.

“Aunt Queen confirmed that there were. A uniformed police officer was right down the hall. And Clem was in the parlor.

“I could see that Aunt Queen had been crying. But even more distressing to me was the fact that she still wore her feathered negligee. She hadn't had time to change. I felt bitterly angry and at the same time frightened.

“ ‘You know, this is a strange situation, my Little Boy,' she said as she came to sit by my bed. (Goblin was hovering in the corner.) ‘We have two possible explanations for what happened tonight and either one is monstrous.'

“ ‘Believe me, there's only one explanation,' I said, ‘and this man is a threat!' I then confessed to her how I had burnt the stranger's books and how this had provoked him. ‘He's an eccentric, I can vouch for that by the cut of his handsome black clothes and his long hair, but he's strong as an ox, and Goblin gave him a terrific scare. He didn't know what was hitting him or where the glass was coming from.'

“I stopped. I realized I had told her all this in the car. I had told her over and over. Was she listening to me now because Dr. Winn had said my wounds weren't self-inflicted?

“She was deeply troubled. I wanted to be strong for her, not weak, not in a hospital bed. I picked up the small control pad for the bed and cranked it so that I could sit up.

“Dr. Winn came in to take his leave. ‘The CAT scan's fine,' he repeated. ‘And in the next few days we'll run some more tests. All you have to do, Quinn, is stay in bed. I'll be talking to you later this morning.'

“ ‘Doctor,' I said, ‘would I try your patience if I asked you a question?'

“ ‘No, not at all, what is it?'

“ ‘There was a brilliant premed student; a friend of mine. She'd been accepted into a research project here. She died as the result of a traffic accident. I wonder if you knew her.'

“A change came into his calm face that was very eloquent of suffering. ‘You're speaking of Lynelle Springer,' he said.

“I nodded.

“ ‘You're the boy she taught, the boy she talked so much about, aren't you?' he asked. ‘Of course. Tarquin Blackwood, her pride and joy. She loved you the way she loved her own children.'

“I swallowed. I was about to cry. I hadn't expected this much of an answer. ‘Is it true?' I asked, ‘that after the accident she never regained consciousness? She never knew how badly she was hurt?'

“ ‘It's true,' he said. He spoke in a humble voice, a voice that was reverent. ‘We had her here for two weeks. Her daughters came. They played tapes for her of music and poetry readings,' he said. ‘But she was down too deep and her injuries were too great. Everything was done that could be done, and then she left us.'

“I felt immeasurable relief knowing all this. I felt like some key chapter in my life was finally closed so that it could remain with me in its entirety now without a host of little distractions. I also felt sure this man wouldn't lie to me—ever—about anything.

“Aunt Queen inundated me with kisses and told me she was going to get dressed.

“Fr. Kevin Mayfair came into the room and sat down beside me. Goblin, who still stood solidly at the end of the bed, eyed him suspiciously.

“ ‘So what do you want me to say?' I asked Fr. Kevin. ‘They've probably told you all I told them. They've told you that Goblin rescued me. You know Goblin. Goblin comes to Mass with me every Sunday.'

“ ‘Don't be so scared of me, Quinn,' he said, his tone firmer and a little higher in timbre than that of Dr. Winn. ‘I'm not the enemy. I'm not here to haul you up before the Spanish Inquisition. Your housekeeper, Ramona, she saw all this flying glass. If I'd seen it, maybe I'd never doubt Almighty God again. Maybe the Devil can do that for us.'

“ ‘It wasn't the Devil in that bathroom,' I said. ‘It was an angry man, a tall, good-looking, vain man. He got past the guards and yanked me right out of sleep. And then Goblin, my Goblin'—I looked at him at the foot of the bed and saw him anxiously eyeing Fr. Kevin—‘my Goblin, he broke the glass to drive the man away from me. He sent the glass flying at the man and the man couldn't see Goblin any more than you can. The man didn't know what was happening. You've got to understand, Goblin isn't from the Devil. There has to be some in-between kind of spirit that's neither devil nor angel. There has to be.'

“Fr. Kevin nodded. ‘Maybe you're right,' he said, to my surprise. He looked off for a moment in an almost dreamy way, then back to me. I found him distractingly handsome. It wasn't just the true red hair and the green eyes, it was the alert expression and the excellent proportions of his face, the shortness of the nose and the length of his full mouth. His voice was kind.

“ ‘Two years ago,' he said, ‘or maybe less, I wouldn't have believed you. But now? Since coming South I've heard so much of ghosts and family curses that I'm more flexible of mind and disposition.' He paused. ‘But I'll tell you this. Whether they come from the Devil or inside our brains, whether they're ghosts or disembodied beings with no true origin, spirits don't do us any good. I'm sure of it.'

“Goblin was becoming agitated. He was staring at Fr. Kevin with a cold hate.

“ ‘No, Goblin,' I said. ‘Don't do anything, Goblin.' In a sudden fit of alarm, I looked around. There was a mirror above the lavatory. What if he broke it into fragments? He knew he could do this now!

“Goblin, the Learner.

“Goblin looked at me with the strangest smile, as if to say, Don't you think I know better?

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