Recovery and the Return of Ethan Hart (42 page)

Other memories came: flashes from a past life of the kind Brian Douglas had once hoped he'd get in his bath—although now, presumably, he didn't remember whether he'd had them or not. I saw a hermit living in his shack in the woods at St Albans and looked after in his dotage by the monks; that was during the thirteenth century. A beggar travelling throughout Germany, ragged and hirsute, during the sixteenth. A gambler in Italy the century after. I had a glimpse of him in 1772 sitting for his portrait in Belgium. God knows how I knew it was 1772. There wasn't any calendar.

And—yes—I saw him, too, in Powys, in fifth-century Britain. Chieftain of a warring tribe.

Although these were simply glimpses, I felt an affinity towards the man, maybe not a liking but an interest in his welfare and an immediate acceptance. The empathy I felt for such as Isaac Laquedem in Brussels, Solomon in York, Arthur at Tintagel and even Cartophilus in Jerusalem was so strong, so instinctive, it could only have been inspired, I realized, by direct experience. I sat there feeling no longer nauseous, but dazed—utterly dazed. I had a mug of strong black coffee in my hand, yet I was hardly aware of it, and lifted it to my lips only absent-mindedly.

It seemed that every time I did so, however, I saw reflected in the depths of that dark liquid a further facet of my own personality.

26

Brian went out—ostensibly to brew more coffee. Zack came in. It was thirty-six years since we had last met but the moment I saw him I lost all trace of my resentment.

He told me his apparent withdrawal had constituted the final test. In truth, he'd never withdrawn, not for an instant. “But I needed to know that you could make it on your own. Even in the hardest of circumstances.”

“Why?”

“No, don't be difficult,” he said.

I laughed. “I mean—do you have plans for me?”

“Certainly I have. So long as you'll be happy to fall in with them.”

I felt honoured and numbed and undeserving. Perhaps the fact of feeling numbed prevented me from feeling frightened. But, although I sensed that fear might come, I also sensed that I'd be able to handle it. Anything. Whatever there was in the future could never be worse than much of what there had been in the past. And, whatever now befell me, I knew I shouldn't be alone.

“But, Zack? Whatever induced you to take a chance on
me
—on me, of all people? Such an obviously lost cause?”

“The harshness of your punishment,” he answered, simply. “I had a fellow feeling.”

“Why?”

“We were
both
such lost causes.”

“Have I asked you this before? During other lives?”

“No, you were never ready to do so.”

“Good. I'd hate to think I was becoming a bore.”

“And that sense of fellow feeling,” he added, “was probably the very thing which they'd been banking on. They're enormously devious.” He said this with a smile.

“I'm not with you.”

“Look.
You
wanted to make amends.
I
wanted to make amends. Forgiveness was out of the question for myself but at least I wanted to be the means of
your
being able to achieve it. Perhaps I just wanted to show I hadn't forgotten, not completely, how to be one of the good guys.”

“Well, if you want my own take on it—and whether you want it or not, you're going to get it—you're not merely one of the good guys, you must be one of the all-time, all-round best.” I grinned. “
And
I seem to remember having told you so before. ‘You're the kindest person I have ever known!'”

“Yes, flattery, flattery,” he murmured.

“Not at all.” But then I returned to his earlier comment. “Devious?” I said.

“Yes, William Cowper had it absolutely right. ‘God moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform.'”

“But what was he banking on? God?”

“On
you
, Ethan! On you! On your becoming such a downright, positive force for good in this world.”

“Huh!” I said.

“Huh!” he mimicked.

“Well, in any case, that was obviously no credit to
me
. It was all of it down to you: your showing me the way, your setting the example—your obliging me, even, to compose my own small print! Always it was down to you! So answer me this, Zack. Why is it out of the question for
you
to be forgiven?”

He gave me what he thought were reasons. But they didn't amount to much. Not in my eyes.

“Yet surely, if God represents forgiveness and mercy, and
you
are repentant…?”

For I couldn't bear the idea that, thanks to Zack, I myself had been slowly hauled towards salvation, whereas there had clearly been no one around to do the same for him. (“Perhaps I scare people off?” he smiled. “Perhaps they reckon I'm overqualified!”) I couldn't bear the idea of me going forward into light, while he himself had to remain in the darkness.

“Just because you were once ambitious,” I protested. “Just because you were once tempted and gave in to your temptations… Just because you once led a rebellion…”

He tried to make light of it. “An awful lot of ‘onces' there, for an educated man! And, anyway, who knows? Maybe my time will come.”

“Well, it better had! Because when I die, Zack, if they refuse to have you back in heaven, then I shan't want to be there either. I'd rather be with you.”

“I don't think they could ever have counted on such loyalty!”

He still made light of it but I could see that he was moved.

“Or love,” I added.

“Ethan, let me get this straight. What scared you most at the beginning was that I'd try to claim your soul. Now you're actually offering it. But have you considered? You know how I react to temptation!”

“Which makes me think you need me all the more. And need me somewhere I'll be well posted to keep an eye on you.”

“You aim to infiltrate the underworld?”

“Something like that. Why not? But did the G-men
usually
discuss their plans with the gangland bosses?”

He looked thoughtfully across the chasm which, metaphorically speaking, separated our two positions. “The idea has a certain irresistible charm,” he said. “The Wandering Jew keeping an eye on Lucifer. Am I my brother's keeper?”

“No, Arthur keeping his eye on the Bearer of Light. And being in the right place to do so, to know the very instant that temptation waves hello. Plus, attempting to repay an unpayable debt. And, yes, I
am
my brother's keeper; and I'm certainly not one of those who regard you as being overqualified! So? We can argue this, if you like, all the way through to the Second Coming, but what I reckon is, it means you're stuck with me. That you always
were
stuck with me. From the moment I hit Christ, Zack, I think your days were numbered.”

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996 by Stephen Benatar

Cover design by Gabriela Sahagun

ISBN: 978-1-4976-8225-2

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