Margaret's Ark (32 page)

Al l the way, she checked for familiar cars in the traffic. No sign of Ozzie's red Chevy. No sign of Clay's white Saturn. Following her at the moment was an old woman in a small Toyota, and further back a blue mini-van. Even in his current state, Clay wouldn’t be seen dead in one of those.

She had gotten away. For the time being, at least.

*     *     *

Ozzie pulled from the curb, chiding himself for screwing up like that. Had Clay seen him warn Holly? No, he couldn't have. She had already reached her car when Clay pulled up alongside him. In a mini-van, no less. He would have laughed if he hadn’t seen the death mask that was Clay's face.

“Where,” was all he said. Ozzie described the car he'd seen her get into, and pointed. Clay looked ahead of him, eyes darting, searching; then he pulled away slowly, in calm pursuit.

*     *     *

“I have to go. Here, Connor! Come here, Baby.”

“I'll say this one more time, Holly. What is going on?”

Holly's face was streaked with dried tears. “Ozzie saw me. He works at the store. He said Clay was coming.”

“Clay knows you're here?”

Holly paused. Did he know where she was? She never saw his car, never saw any flash of red to indicate Ozzie had followed, either. “No,” she said at last. “No, I guess not.”

Dot played with Holly's hair, trying unsuccessfully to untangle it. “Is this place still paid for?”

Holly nodded. “I paid up until June eighth.”

“Well, that's good. Why June... aw, Honey. You don't believe those stories, do you?”

Holly almost denied it, but what would be the point? She nodded. Her friend laughed, a heavy, tension-cutting sound and tousled Holly's hair, having obviously decided the rat's nest was beyond fixing. “You go on and believe what you want. Come June ninth, you can stay with me and Phil, OK?” She took Holly in a loose hug. Connor gleefully squirmed between them. “I'll stay here with you the rest of the day, see if Mister Big ever shows up. If not, I'd have to say you're in the clear. He's never been a very patient man.”

A shadow by the window caught Dot's attention. When she looked up, there was nothing. She'd opened the blinds while Holly was gone, then the windows to freshen the air. From here, she could see the parking lot, and as far as she could tell, nothing was different except her own car which Holly had come back with, and a blue minivan now parked across the lot. It, too, was empty.

By seven o'clock that evening, Dot prepared to leave. Holly had re-closed the windows, turned on the air conditioner and shut the blinds.

“It's like a cave in here,” Dot said, giving a kiss to baby and mother in turn. She paused by the door, talking while typing a long text into her phone. “Phil is probably calling the National Guard for me by now. The man worries too much. I'll call you tonight. You promise to stay put?”

She promised. Dot went home.

An hour later, Holly fed Conner, burped him, and laid him down to sleep. It was dark outside, and Holly lay on the bed. She couldn't sleep, but she knew she had to relax or it would affect her milk.

Twenty-five minutes later, the door to the motel room opened with a subdued
thump.
Clay stumbled inside. He smiled as he straightened up, then lingered at the doorway, patching up the lock. He said nothing, just occasionally turned to her and smiled. She never moved, except to creep towards the far side of the bed. She almost expected him to say something bizarre like, “Hi, Honey, I'm home.” But he never spoke.

The door fixed, he closed it and wandered to the closet, got the suitcase she'd bought at the store along with the diapers and Pack ‘N Play, methodically opened and closed the dresser drawers, throwing whatever clothes he found into the case. He snapped it shut, looked down at Connor and gently lifted his sleeping form.

Every muscle in her body tensed, ready to spring if Clay made any threat. He didn't. He smiled again and handed Connor over to her, folded up the Pack 'N Play, lifted it and the suitcase and walked to the door.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Time to go home.”

Holly hesitated. Clay turned back. He wasn't smiling. “Now, Babe. Or I'll kill you both right here.” She looked into the two dark orbs that used to be his eyes, and knew he
was
telling the truth.

Holly cradled her son closer and followed Clay to the mini-van parked across the lot. They did not speak on the ride home. She tried not to think what was going to happen when he had her back in the house, in the place where he felt safe enough to act out his true nature. When he got her inside, she had to make sure Connor was safe in his crib before Clay killed her. At least then her son would have a chance of surviving. This was all she had left to cling to, as she watched the white lines of the highway ticking off their passage back home.

15

“Doctor Ramprakash!”

Neha stopped with an unexpected pang of happiness on hearing her name pronounced correctly. Over the past month, Bernard Meyers had made it a point to acknowledge her in the hall whenever they crossed paths. Aside from this small token of recognition, nothing else seemed to come of her participation in his dinner the month before.

She paused only briefly, pretending to note her place on the chart she carried for Mrs. Rondeau in room 316, then turned and raised an eyebrow, an expression of passive interest.

“Doctor Meyers, how are you this morning?”

Meyers walked quickly to her side and Neha fell into step. He didn't want to keep her from her destination, protocol for any ad-hoc hallway meeting. He seemed in a hurry himself, and she admired how the older man never looked winded as he whirled about the hospital.

“I won't keep you long,” he said. They turned the corner. “Just wanted to extend another invitation to you and Suresh.” Again, Neha was filled with hope, knowing that Meyers would have done some research to
remember
her husband's first name.

“Another dinner?” she asked lightly.

Meyers slowed as they neared the third floor nurse’s station, then stopped altogether. Obviously he wanted their conversation to be private. His face flushed, and for a moment Neha thought the man was going to ask for a date. But no, he'd mentioned Suresh, hadn’t he?

“For obvious reasons, some quite political as you'll soon understand, I hope I can count on your discretion.”

She kept her face an expressionless stone as she whispered, “Of course.”

He waved a hand casually in the air. “Oh, it's nothing too earth-shattering, honestly, only I don’t have much room at the cottage and need to be careful not to bruise anyone's feelings.”

Al ready Neha felt herself shift, mentally, into a new state of expectation. His cottage, and only a few people. She kept herself calm, breathing deeply through her nose, not wanting to seem eager. “I understand,” she said.

“Linda and I have a small place in Colorado, near Westcliffe. Mostly for skiing in the winter, mind you.” He paused a moment as two nurses came by, wheeling a woman out of 319.
Drake
, Neha thought automatically,
x-rays and blood work
. She smiled at the director, ignoring the curious glances from the nurses.

When their small section of hall was deserted again, Meyers continued. “Now and again we decide to open it for a week in the summer. Sometimes Linda organizes it herself. Taking time off from this place is problematical at best for me. But we figure, with so much hysteria around lately, it might be nice to get away for a while. Take a long weekend, just a few days.”

Neha smiled. “That sounds like a great idea. Things are only going to get weirder around town.”

Meyers nodded emphatically. “Yes. Which is why we thought we'd invite a few folks along, you and your husband included if you're interested. Perhaps for a few days early next month?”

Neha calculated the risk of her next statement before speaking. “I assume these few days would span June eighth? Even across the country, we'll be able to hear the collective sighs of relief when nothing happens.” A quick, calculated laugh. The risk paid off. Meyers’ demeanor lightened visibly. He returned her smile.

“Exactly. That's what I like about you, Doctor. You're not flustered by the madness that’s taken hold of everyone.”

She shrugged one shoulder, never taking her eyes off him. “I try not to be. And we would be honored to get away for a few days. I'll have to check with Suresh, see if he could take the time off.” She frowned suddenly. “It might be harder for me to get those days off, however, I - “

“..have nothing to fear,” Meyers interrupted. “I got you off for dinner last month; I can get you off again.” He smiled wider. One of his teeth had a silver crown. Neha hadn’t noticed that before. She replayed his last words over in her memory. Had that been a come-on? No, probably not. Still, better safer than sorry. She offered him a tempered but smoldering look. “If you could do that, I'd be in your debt, Doctor Meyers.”

“Good! Good. Well, I'll have Elizabeth get the information to you. And don't worry about airfare. We'll get that arranged on our end, once we know which specific days you can take off.” He paused. “Obviously, it would be great if you could stay at least through the eighth.”

Naturally
, she thought.
The man's a nervous wreck
. Neha would not be surprised to find the same
Bernard Meyers Support Group
in Colorado as had attended dinner during the fizzled rainstorm. A half-dozen or more surrogate parents running around telling him everything was going to be all right. The suspicion that Meyers's “cottage” was most likely in the mountains, safe haven from any flood, did not escape her. She was to fly out there in order to pat his hand, coo sweet comforts in his ear.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” she said.

The cliché was their cue to part company, so both doctors turned in separate directions. Neha wondered where she was supposed to be at that moment, or that day. For the next hour, all she could think about was the trip.

As the afternoon waned, the distractions mounted. Memorial Day weekend would be on them in a few days, and there was the usual inventory work to be done beforehand. The holiday weekend invariably brought waves of back problems, ankle sprains, and other more bloody problems as people broke out the lawn mowers and chain saws. Lately, bursts of street fighting had been on the rise, arguments spontaneously erupting on every corner. The trip to the Meyers' place would be good not only for her future, but for her sanity. The chaos on that prophetic day would be far beyond them.

Suresh had been good about not following up on his dreams - almost
too
good. Following her around like a pathetic dog wanting a pat on the head. Wanting her with him more than ever, both physically and mentally. As if
she
owed
him
her undying devotion, now that he'd given up this insanity. Well, she might have to butter him up a little more now. Give him a taste of paradise. Privately, Neha knew her husband still expected the world to end in two weeks regardless of his silence, and was trying to make the most of their time together.

She would wait on acting any further. Make Suresh happy, do the trip, make an impression, get in good with Meyers, then when the issue of getting a divorce didn't seem as much of a stigma to her reputation, leave sad little Suresh behind with his
devas
and visions.

When her shift was over, she stopped by Elizabeth Valdecci's desk. The secretary’s office offered a comfortable waiting area for those lucky enough to make it onto the director's calendar. Elizabeth didn’t usually leave until six o'clock, so Neha assumed she'd catch her. As she took the elevator to the second floor, she wondered if Meyers had invited
her
to this little outing. He wouldn't leave his trusted sidekick behind. Would he?

When she arrived, Elizabeth Valdecci's desk was unoccupied. Taped to the front, hanging over the edge as if in effigy, was a legal sized envelope with the name
Ramprakash
in the woman’s stark handwriting. Neha pulled the envelope free, leaving the strand of tape dangling from the edge of the desk.

She held the envelope but did not open it. She knew the woman well enough to know the pre-confirmation sheet, rental car and a typewritten set of directions and recommendations on items to bring would be neatly stacked inside. The fact the Elizabeth had left the information in such an unprofessional manner made Neha uncomfortable. It was inconsistent with the woman she knew and everyone feared. Each time something like this, something out of place, happened in Neha’s world she felt another pang of fear. Not a small tug at her nerves, but true terror. These minor changes in routine set off the same thought - the world is winding down.

She walked along the corridor back towards the elevator.
Elizabeth just had to leave early today. If this had happened a year ago, you wouldn't even blink
. Suresh and his mind games, she thought, and silently cursed them all.

14

The work at Margaret's home took nearly two weeks, and over that time the house became more of a spectacle in Lavish than the ark on the common. As she'd feared, applying the glue to the porous and crumbling wall board had not resulted in any useful material, at least not if they wanted something strong enough to withstand the constant shifting of the food and water stored under the lower deck. Eventually, they stopped taking cuttings from inside. The kitchen table was made of oak. They took that. The countertops were Formica, and would be useful in their durability as shelving and dividers inside the hold. Eventually, not yet wanting to resort to the daunting task of taking up floor boards, they moved outside.

Shingles were removed from the back of the house, exposing the sturdier plywood beneath which they desperately needed. Pulling these from the house was another issue entirely. Instead strategic holes were cut inside to reach the outer wall and bang the nails loose enough to be pulled free. It was a long, slow process. They were occasionally forced to cut through beams, never certain which ones were critical for the integrity of the overall structure.