Exit Light (4 page)

The Ephemeros shuddered.

As though a door somewhere had slammed hard enough to shake the pictures on the walls, or something fragile had been dropped and shattered, the world rippled around them. Henry gasped, and Tovah went to one knee, on her good leg. The other had changed and she cried out, not only disturbed at how someone had shifted her representation, but with true grief at experiencing her loss all over again.

Henry helped her up and held her arm to give her balance. “Tovahleh, are you okay?”

She nodded and gripped Henry’s arm. “What the hell is that?”

The sky went dark. The ground turned to black sand. Cold. Lightning split the sky in flashes of blue and white and angry red. God’s fire, her grandfather had called it.

This had nothing to do with any god. Tovah slipped her hand into Henry’s. She’d encountered nightmares aplenty, but since meeting him and learning she could shape, she’d always been able to flee, escape, shift to something better. Or wake. But now they clung to each other as the earth rumbled beneath them and lightning made glass of the sand.

“What’s going on, Spider?”

It felt odd to call him that, when he was still Henry. He looked at her. He squeezed her hand.

“It will pass.”

“But what is it?” She’d experienced shifts in the Ephemeros before, when someone wanted something badly enough. But nothing ever like this.

“Shape it away, Tovah,” Henry said, looking into the distance. “Shape us a haven.”

“I don’t know how!”

“We’ll do it together. Shape with me.”

She concentrated. She’d felt Spider’s power many times before. The first time she’d woken in a dream and realized she was no longer powerless, he’d been there. The first time she understood she wasn’t merely imagining herself in a place, but was actually inside it, Spider had been holding her hand. He’d led her then. He would lead her now, too.

“Are we fighting something?” she whispered. “Something bad?”

“No. We’re trying not to be noticed, that’s all. Fighting’s not for us.”

“I didn’t know you were a pacifist,” she said.

“I’m not. I’m a coward.”

He grinned at her. He looked so much like the Henry she’d first met almost three years ago, the one who’d convinced her to play bingo and start eating again, that she wanted to cry. She leaned up quickly to kiss his cheek. Stubble scratched her lips.

Then he was gone and Spider was back, slightly less gaudily colored but still recognizable. She missed the touch of his hand. “Spider?”

“Time to go,” he told her.

“How do you always know—” she began, and then the Ephemeros faded as someone shook her awake.

“Miss?”

Tovah looked at Henry, so still beneath his shield of blankets. The hands of the clock told her she’d only been asleep for about half an hour. She hadn’t even dropped the book, though her finger had cramped from the pressure of holding it on her lap.

She’d have known the tall man standing over her was a doctor even without the white badge and clipboard. He had that disheveled, not-enough-sleep, too-much-coffee physique. In a pair of dark dress trousers and a deep blue button-down shirt, he was better dressed than a lot of the docs she’d seen. Better looking, too, despite the furrow in his brow as he stared at her. He had dark hair cropped short and eyes that matched his shirt.

“Sorry.” She sat up straight, immediately self-conscious. “Must’ve dozed off.”

“Careful. You don’t want to end up like him.” The doctor looked over at Henry, so silent. When he looked back at Tovah, the frown had disappeared. “Are you Henry’s case worker?”

It wasn’t a stupid assumption. Henry had no family to visit him. None that acknowledged him, at any rate. “I’m a friend, actually. Tovah Connelly.”

She carefully tested her sound foot to make sure it hadn’t fallen asleep while she was dreamwalking. It had only taken her one embarrassing incident in which she’d tried to stand on two numbed feet and fallen before she’d learned her lesson. She wiggled her toes, no problem, and got up. She offered her hand, which he took and dropped immediately after a bare hesitation she noticed but couldn’t figure out. Germ-a-phobe? Some doctors were.

“Martin Goodfellow,” he said. “I’ve been assigned to Henry.”

“You’re new?”

He nodded. “Started last week.”

“Well, he’s no different than he was last week,” Tovah said. “Vitals are steady, but no change, otherwise.”

He seemed taken aback at her knowledge, but rallied. “Are you a doctor?”

“No, but she’s played one on TV.” Ava pushed past them both and checked Henry’s chart. She gave Tovah a look. “Visiting hours are over. We’ll see you next week?”

“Next Sunday.” Tovah settled the book on Henry’s nightstand. “Tell him not to read ahead.”

“As if,” said Ava.

“It was nice to meet you, Dr. Goodfellow.” Tovah didn’t look at Henry. There was no point. He wasn’t really there.

Dr. Goodfellow stared at her but said nothing, and under the intense scrutiny Tovah had to fight not to look at her reflection in Henry’s mirror. Was he staring because of the way she’d lurched out of her chair like something from a horror movie? She’d tried to be more subtle than that. Or maybe she’d drooled while sleeping—

“Nice meeting you, too, Miss Connelly.” Dr. Goodfellow nodded sharply, leaving doubt about the veracity of his statement. “Take care.”

Tovah glanced at Ava, who was steadfastly ignoring the new doctor as she fussed with Henry. No help there, not even an eye roll. The nurse hadn’t yet formed an opinion about the new doc. Tovah smiled a little and let herself out of Henry’s room.

She shouldn’t take Dr. Goodfellow’s lack of enthusiasm personally. Some people just didn’t have the same set of social skills as others. Or maybe she’d caught him on a bad day.

Dr. Goodfellow caught her at the end of the hall. “Miss Connelly!”

She turned. He was smiling. He looked less tired than he had on first glance and a whole lot friendlier.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if you’d be able to talk to me a little bit. About Henry,” he added hastily, as though she might assume he was asking her to chat about hemlines or the state of world affairs. “His file’s got a lot of notes but says very little, if you know what I mean.”

Tovah was a sucker for smiles, and Dr. Goodfellow had a great warm, buttery one, now that it had appeared. He slipped his pen into his breast pocket and put his hands on his hips.

“I’ve read it.”

“Have you?” He looked like she’d admitted to a felony, but only for a second. “Then you know what I mean.”

“I do.” Tovah studied him. She’d never passed more than a word or two with Henry’s previous docs, and then only because she’d forced them to talk to her about his treatment. Henry needed her to speak for him, since he refused to do it for himself. She couldn’t do much, but she tried. “I’ll be happy to talk to you about Henry.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” In sharp contrast to his original greeting, Dr. Goodfellow flashed her that warm smile again.

She liked the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I can tell you’re new,” she said, gesturing at his clothes. “Nobody around here dresses like that.”

He looked down, then quickly up at her. For an instant, cerulean eyes flashed. His smile tipped on one side. “No?”

She was no way, no how, going to flirt with Henry’s new doctor. No matter how cute he was, or how nicely dressed, or…oh, hell, how good he smelled. Which was good, she discovered when he moved closer.

“Can I buy you a coffee? Or maybe you don’t have time now. You’re probably heading out somewhere. Of course.” He shook his head before she even had time to answer. “I’m sure you’ve got something else to do. Another time?”

This swift exchange took her aback, just a little. “I come to see Henry every week, Dr. Goodfellow. If you really want to talk to me about him—”

“I do!”

She gave him a curious look.

“If I’m going to understand him, it will help to talk to someone who knows him.”

Tovah nodded slowly. His enthusiasm was obvious. Despite the crinkles, he still looked young. Maybe he hadn’t had time to become jaded about his work like most of the other docs she’d met here.

“Sure. I’ll be happy to help. And I don’t have anyplace I have to be just now, so…”

“Now? I’ve got time for a break.” He looked hopeful but a bit wary, as though he still didn’t expect her to say yes.

Tovah expected a man, a doctor, who looked like him to be more self-assured. Maybe even a little arrogant. His hesitance was utterly charming. She smiled. “Sure. Okay.”

“Great!”

She followed him to the cafeteria for a cup of very bad coffee and a piece of very good blueberry coffee cake. They sat at a table so small their knees touched with every shift, and she couldn’t bring herself to suggest they move to a bigger one. Nor did he seem bothered, though his legs were far longer and he must have wanted to stretch them.

“I’ve moved around a lot,” he told her. “Decided to see the world before I settled down. Worked in Alaska for a bit, then did a stint in Hawaii. I went from wearing a fur-lined parka to a bathing suit in less than twenty-four hours. If I ever find a house, I’ve got some great souvenirs.”

“You don’t have a house?” Tovah laughed, imagining him living in a tent or the back of his car.

“No. Just a really small, really lousy apartment that smells like cold pizza. I’ve never stayed in one place long enough to bother buying a house.”

Tovah lifted a crumb from her plate to her mouth. “Think you’ll stay around here long enough?”

It wasn’t until he looked up at her that Tovah realized how bold a question it sounded.

“Sisters of Mercy offered me a full-time position. So…maybe. Yes.”

A beat of silence, one she didn’t want to analyze, hovered between them. “What sort of house are you looking for?”

“Something I can afford.” He laughed. “I’ve got med school bills to pay.”

The image of Richards’s card, tacked onto Tovah’s bulletin board, rose in her mind. She thought about plucking it down and offering it to him. She said nothing. Coincidence didn’t exist in the Ephemeros. You dreamed what you were meant to, or you shaped what you desired. In the waking world meeting a man wanting to buy a house mere days after meeting a Realtor trying to sell one was simple serendipity, nothing more. She shouldn’t read into it. She wouldn’t.

“What brought you to Pennsylvania?” Tovah stirred sweetener into her coffee, though she knew it wouldn’t help. How a facility whose staff relied so heavily on caffeine could consistently ruin coffee, she didn’t know.

“A chance to work in one of the premier long-term psychiatric facilities in a tri-state area.”

She laughed, thinking he was joking, but stopped at the look on his face. “You’re kidding.”

Dr. Goodfellow smiled. “Nope.”

She looked around at the dimly lit room. “This place?”

He nodded. “When the Harrisburg State Hospital shut down, there were fewer options for patients like Henry. Private facilities can’t or don’t want to handle an indigent population. Hospital programs are designed for short-term treatment, and beds are limited. Sisters of Mercy is one of the last long-term-care facilities that take patients on a pro-bono basis.”

“You mean people who can’t pay and have no other place to go.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“And those are the sorts of patients you want to treat?”

He smiled slightly. “Someone has to.”

His answer was true, but she wasn’t sure she liked the way he’d said it. “Where were you before you came here?”

“In a twenty-bed private facility in New Hampshire. Full of wealthy bulimics and casual drug addicts with the money to rest for a little while. Tennis and golf were considered therapy.”

Tovah watched him as he described the place to her. “Sounds like a dream job, actually.”

“Not my kind of dream.” His gaze caught hers. Held it. The moment broke a second later. “Tell me about Henry.”

“He used to be lucid more often than not. The meds were working. He wasn’t hallucinating. He was coherent.” When she’d met him, Henry had spent hours talking to her. It had taken her weeks to realize that most of those conversations were happening in the Ephemeros. The lines between the waking and dream worlds had blurred so much for her she hadn’t been able to distinguish them until Henry helped her. She owed him a lot. Maybe even her life.

She watched Dr. Goodfellow stir sugar and cream into his third cup of coffee. “Aside from the fact that stuff is foul, how can you stand the caffeine?”

He looked up with a smile. “I guess I’ve built up a tolerance.”

“I’d be afraid I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep.” She indicated her cup. “I can’t have any caffeine after about three in the afternoon.”

His smile faltered, just a bit. “I’d be more concerned if, like your friend, I had trouble staying awake.”

Another moment passed between them before he spoke again. “His records are sporadic, but show he’s spent a lot of time in shelters or on the streets.”

“From what I understand, his parents tossed him out when he was fifteen or so. He lived with grandparents, on and off. When they died…” Tovah shrugged. Henry didn’t talk much about his past. Once, while putting away his pajamas, she’d found a sheaf of letters rubber-banded together. The return address had all been from the same place in New Jersey. She thought they might have been from a sister, but had never asked.

“His situation isn’t uncommon. He’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

Tovah shook her head, demurring. Her own coffee was growing cold, but she couldn’t stomach the bitterness. “Spider is—I mean, Henry is a great guy when he’s awake.”

“And not bashing in television sets.”

The doctor’s smile tempted her own. He didn’t seem to have noticed she’d called Henry by his Ephemeros name, not that it would’ve mattered. Sitting with him felt comfortable in a way she hadn’t expected. It was his apologetic manner. He was a good-looking man who didn’t act like he knew it. She wondered if he liked to dance.

Of course, since this was the waking world—and she’d checked, to make sure, by looking again and again at the clock to be certain the numbers didn’t change—she didn’t ask him.