Camille (19 page)

“Definitely.” He grabbed my hand, nodded to
the musicians, and pulled me along the path to the Zoological
Society grounds.

It had been several years since I’d seen the
animals as well. Had it been a Sunday, there would have been a long
queue at the pay hut, but we passed only two horsemen on the road.
The two men, dressed smartly in long coats, smiled and tipped there
top hats in my direction as they trotted past. Strider squeezed my
hand a little too hard.

“My fingers!” I pulled them from his grip and
rubbed them. I glanced up at him and there was a glint of
fierceness in his eyes reminding me that aside from the lovely day
at the park, a horrible change was happening to my companion.

Strider shook his head. “Forgive me,
Camille.” His face stiffened, and a tense silence fell between
us.

“Let’s walk back to the bears. There used to
be the sweetest black bear that would hang at the top of its pole
cleaning its paws.” I spoke in a lively tone to return us to the
wonderful day we were having before the bleak reminder.

Strider did not reply, but he picked up his
pace as we walked the path to the bear building.

“There he is. I see him.” I raced ahead.
Strider caught up and stood behind me. The black ball of fuzz
stared down at us from the top of his pole. “I would love to touch
him,” I turned back, “wouldn’t you?”

“Touch a bear?” His gaze drifted over me. “I
can think of better things to touch.”

I ignored the rather lascivious comment. He
was, after all, the lad I’d seen seducing a girl in a dark alley.
And while the image of his wild side always stayed in my mind, it
was sharply contrasted by the Nathaniel Strider who’d been staying
with us these past days. I faced the bear again. “His fur must feel
like expensive velvet. It looks so soft.”

“Soft as velvet,” he said in a near whisper.
Fingers lightly brushed the side of my neck and I jumped. The
moment of anger on the road had darkened his mood and along with it
came a boldness which made me uneasy and dizzy at the same time. I
stepped forward out of his reach.

Loud screeches came from the next building.
“That must be the monkeys.” I headed in the direction of the
primates. The monkeys, like the bears, had poles to climb, but
there were boxes at the top for the animals to take shelter. “Most
people find the monkeys entertaining; I’ve always found them a bit
unsettling with their human-like facial expressions and hands.” I
blathered on now just to fill the silence.

“Nothing more unsettling, I suppose, than an
animal that seems half human,” he said darkly.

Realizing too late, the ignorance of my
comment, I sealed my lips and walked toward the circular aviary
housing several large birds with menacing talons and beaks. One of
the birds, a brown hawk perched high on a limb, eyed a dead mouse
on the floor of the enclosure. We said nothing as we stared at the
tiny, still creature and the predator waiting to devour it.

Suddenly, the visit to the animals seemed a
terrible idea. The gardens and the music had been perfect. Why had
we traveled to this end of the park? I turned to find that Strider
had started off down a path leading to the animal dens. The tension
in his broad shoulders made me wring my hands together. I had to
get him out of the animal park immediately.

By the time I’d caught up to him, he stood
stock still in front of a walled yard. There was a cave like
building at the end of the yard. A carcass lay in front of the
shelter, but I could see no animal. Strider stood in a near trance
staring at the opening. There was an information sign hanging on
the wall, but I didn’t need to read it. I knew what lived
inside.

A growl rolled out of the blackness. It was a
sound I knew too well, only this noise was less painful, more
natural sounding than the one I knew. Two sets of glowing eyes
appeared and two gray wolves lumbered out into the yard, their eyes
squinting at the daylight. At first their long snouts wriggled in
the direction of the raw meat, but then their attention focused on
something else, the human spectator outside their yard. The two
animals came closer to where we stood and began pacing the end
wall. Strider pumped his hands open and shut as he watched them
grow more and more agitated. I grabbed his arm, but he yanked it
away.

“Please, Strider, let’s go.” The pleading in
my voice did not persuade him. I had to draw him away. My mind
raced as quickly as my heart. Desperation combined with passion
made me step directly in front of him putting a barrier between him
and the pacing wolves. I stood high on my tiptoes and stared into
his eyes. They were glittering brown with a fierceness I’d never
seen. My hands were shaking as I reached up and smoothed several
black curls from his forehead. He did not flinch at my touch which
gave me the confidence to kiss him on the lips. I dropped back to
my feet. He stared down at me now through a curtain of long
lashes.

“Let’s go,” I repeated.

He turned down the path to the exit and I
followed, my legs wobbly and my stomach in knots. This thing was
taking hold of him, and we had no idea how to stop it. Then an idea
occurred to me, and I glanced back to the walls around the animal
dens, walls built to keep visitors safe from being attacked by a
leopard or wolf. “A barricade,” I whispered to myself. Strider,
still in a semi-hypnotic state had not heard me, and I had not
meant him to hear. I tucked the idea into my mind for safe
keeping.

It was a long walk back home, but we opted
out of a crowded ride on an omnibus. With Strider’s mood, it would
have been like squeezing an untamed animal into a box. The trek
seemed to soften the tension in Strider’s shoulders and face. But
that same tension returned as we neared Dr. Bennett’s townhouse. My
feet ached, and I felt every piece of gravel through the bottom of
my shoes, but I had to nearly run to keep up with Strider’s
pace.

“Tis Charlie,” he said as the front stoop
came into view. A young boy, the other boy from the cemetery, sat
on the top step with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He
heard us coming and stood. His trousers were a mosaic of old
patches, and his coat was so threadbare I could see shadows through
it when he lifted his arm to wave at Strider. Tears had left
streaks of clean skin on his otherwise filthy face. He jumped off
the steps onto the pavement directly in front of us and grabbed
hold of Strider’s arm.

“It’s Goose,” the boy choked on his words.
“He’s real bad, Strider. You’ve got to come.”

Strider turned to me. “Camille, go inside.
I’ll be in later.’

There was a chill in his words, and I wasn’t
convinced he’d return. “Nathaniel…”

“Camille, please!” he snapped. My eyes
watered as I raced up the steps and slammed the front door behind
me. I walked to the front window and lifted the curtain. They
dashed off in the direction of the Strand. Something deep inside me
felt hollow. I knew he would not return.

In the quiet of my bedroom, I flopped stomach
first onto my bed. The emotional turmoil I’d endured since that
night when I first saw Nathaniel Strider was unbearable. Happiness,
love, heartache, terror were not emotions to be swirled together
within the course of a day. But I seemed to be dealing with all of
them at once and not just one day but every day. And the new
details of my life were the cream on the top of the insanity.

No doubt, the gang Strider had warned Goose
about had taken their revenge on the boy, an act of brutality the
thieves would soon come to regret. A sickening feeling swept
through me, and a bitter taste rose in my throat. I closed my eyes
to shut out everything.

I fell asleep for hours and was woken by a
light knocking at the door. “Strider!” I flew to the door and
opened it. Dr. Bennett stood in the hallway with a candle
stick.

“Strider has not returned, but I wanted you
to see something in the lab.”

The gas lamp glowed, painting the colorless
walls with the geometric shadows of bottles, jars and equipment. He
placed the candle stick directly behind the microscope and sat down
to make some adjustments on the device. “Come see,” he said not
looking away from the eyepiece.

I pressed my eye to the brass tube. They
looked like normal blood cells. I pulled my face away. “I don’t
understand.”

“They are Strider’s cells. I mixed some of
the dead man’s blood cells in with Strider’s and they began
reverting back to normal.” He put his hand on my arm. “Your idea,
Cami, it may save the boy’s life.”

A whimper flew from my mouth. “How long until
we know for sure that it has worked?”

“We must give it some time to see if there
are any adverse effects.” His blue eyes glittered in the
candlelight. “But the results are amazing thus far. Where is
Strider anyhow?”

The excitement which raced through me hit a
cold wall. My shoulders drooped and I sat down hard on the
stool.

“Camille, what is it? Is he in some
trouble?’

“Goose, his young companion from the
cemetery, has been hurt. Strider went to help him.”

“That doesn’t sound so terrible. I’m sure
he’ll return soon.”

“He is changing quickly. Sometimes I see this
feral rage inside his eyes, and I fear he has no control over it.
He left very angry.”

Dr. Bennett lifted his glasses and rubbed his
eyes. “I see. My own worries are proven then. I figured an
impetuous lad like Strider would prove a formidable beast.”

****

Three full days had passed with no sign of
Strider. My heart ached for his smile. A soot filled fog had choked
the entire city. The dampness seemed to penetrate the walls of the
townhouse, and no amount of coal in the hearth could warm me. My
mind blotted out the terrible possibilities of what may have
happened when Strider left here.

Dr. Bennett still slept. His cheer from the
possibility of success in the lab was obliterated by the
disappearance of his specimen and the ever present tension between
us. Only the cat took joy in the new circumstances.

Dutch circled my legs purring loudly. I
placed a saucer of cream on the floor of the kitchen and squatted
down. The cat’s bald tail stood straight as an arrow as he lapped
it up. I contemplated putting the animal in a cage and heading
towards Strider’s neighborhood, but I feared what I might find.

Dr. Bennett’s footsteps sounded on the
kitchen stairs, and I rose up from my crouch. I swayed slightly as
the blood returned to my head. Though morning had broken, the fog
did not allow any sunlight, and I’d lit several candles near the
stove. There was pure sadness in Dr. Bennett’s expression as he
placed the box of French chocolates on the table.

“The day you went to Regent’s Park, I went to
see your sister.”

“You mean your daughter.”

“No, Camille, I went to see your sister! Your
sister, Emily.” His voice echoed off the solid walls.

Dutch finished his cream and returned to my
legs. I lifted the cat into my arms. “How was she?’

He smoothed his hair back with his hand. When
had it turned so gray, I wondered? “I don’t know. She refused to
see me.” He shot me a pleading look. It was a look of desperation
that sent a stab of remorse through me. The truth was, I missed my
sister, and at times like this when my life seemed profoundly dark,
there was no one I needed more.

I opened the box of chocolates and removed
two. “I’ll go.” I headed toward the stairs then turned back to him.
“But I do not go for you. I’m going for myself.” I still could not
stop myself from spouting hurtful words at the man. It was not in
my nature to stay angry for long, but the feelings of betrayal were
still fresh.

Dr. Bennett nodded and walked with heavy
steps to his favorite stool and sat down.

The door to the lab was ajar. I stepped
inside. Only the faintest light came through the window. Father’s
journal sat open on the cot, but I didn’t go near it. I’d seen
enough of the book. A slide was still mounted on the microscope,
but there was not enough light to see through it. Here we finally
came upon a possible cure, something that could save Strider’s
life, and he was gone.

The cot where Strider had slept just days
before still had the imprint of his long body. I walked over to it
and sat down. The adjacent table held several thin vials of blood,
Strider’s blood. Where was he right at this moment, I wondered. Had
he found Smithy? What if he had killed him? What if he’d been
arrested? Wouldn’t the guards at Newgate be shocked in a few weeks
time when they discovered what they’d caught? I stood and headed
out of the room. If Strider did not return soon, I would go out and
find him.

There was no parcel of paper for Emily, no
interesting books, no letter, only a chocolate to get me to her
door. My trousers and topper fit my mood and the grim weather.

Dr. Bennett met me at the door with a bright
red and white scarf. “This is for visibility in that pea soup out
there,” he said and draped it around my shoulders. I held my arms
straight down to my side and clenched my hands in fists to fight
the overwhelming urge I had to hug him. The strain between us was
unbearable even though it came mostly from my end. But I was not
ready to forgive yet.

The walk seemed especially long and
especially miserable in the foul weather. Although I could not see
ten meters in any directions, I kept out a constant eye for
Strider.

My sister’s pale blonde hair flowed out over
the dark blue shawl covering her frail body. She sat on a bench in
the hallway reading a book, but looked up the instant I stepped
into the hallway. The twin connection was still strong.

“I knew you would come today,” she said. She
lifted a tiny paper fairy out from under the shawl. It had sheer
blue wings and long dark hair with a white streak. “I’m sure you
can guess what I’ve named her.”