White Apples (36 page)

It was such a beautiful, bewildering sight that they remained silent a while and just watched. Beaming, Bruno thought it was his due. Coco thought, What a prick, what a prick, what an arrogant prick.

There were flowers and flags up there, rockets and rabbits lit the sky, lit their faces and the cars, the parking lot, and everything around them. A white birch tree that was hiding in the night sud•denly glowed. The fading divider lines painted on the parking lot were visible again in the burst and sprinkle of radiant light from above.

It was an amazing display, one of a kind, an event that forced you back to being a child full of wonder. Both of them wanted to talk but couldn't tear their eyes away from all the flash and dazzle. In the middle of the finale—a multicolored waterfall that sprang and bubbled and seemed to take up every inch of up there—Bruno heard someone say close to his ear, "How do you like my show?"

He turned and there was Vincent Ettrich a foot away looking him straight in the eye. The crackle and pop of the fireworks drowned out Bruno's first try. "They're yours?"

Ettrich put a hand behind his ear to show he couldn't hear. Bruno shouted out, "These are your fireworks?" Ettrich yelled back, "Yes. It's my dream, so I decided to have some. Make it a festive atmosphere."

Bruno had nothing to say. Vincent didn't seem the least bit surprised to see him there. "How are you, Vincent?"

Ettrich slapped him on the shoulder too hard. "After you tried to kill me in the car? I'm good, Bruno. I'm glad you made it."

Bruno was taken aback. "You are? You're not angry that I'm here?" "I'm delighted."

Coco did not hear them talking. She was entranced by the fireworks and waited till the last bright light had died in the sky before looking over. She hadn't expected to see Vincent there. He had his hand on Bruno's shoulder and was leaning in toward him like an intimate friend telling a ripe new dirty joke.

Her voice was full of regret when she spoke. "Vincent, I'm so sorry about what I said in there—

He shook his head—no more needed to be said on the subject. "So Bruno, aren't you going to ask me about my fireworks? Don't you want to know why I had them?"

"Okay, Vincent: Why did you have the fireworks?" Bruno's voice was campy and melodramatic—he was willing to play straight man to Ettrich.

"To celebrate my return. Thanks to you, I've decided to go back and live some more."

Without thinking, Coco clapped her hands together with joy. But then she remembered what would happen if Ettrich went back.

Bruno's voice was condescending. "That's very nice, Vincent. I'm happy for you." "You don't sound happy."

Bruno Mann shrugged. There was no reason to pretend any•more. He didn't give a shit about Ettrich. He just wanted to leave. Or maybe as a last gesture when it was all over he would send up some fireworks of his own just to rub it in some more. Fireworks had been a great idea. He wished he had thought of them himself.

"I heard what you said before to Coco." Ettrich turned to her standing nearby. He could feel pity coming off her like heat.

"Yes, well, sometimes you lose, Vincent."

Ettrich squeezed the other man's shoulder. "You never under•stood the big picture, Bruno. That's why you were lousy at your job. Did you know that everyone in the office called you the doofus in a nice suit?"

Bruno started to say something but Ettrich squeezed harder on his shoulder to shut him up.

"Love
is
chaos, you're right. But it's not only chaos. Yes, you do lose control—
-your
control. One person.

Singular." Ettrich grinned now because he knew exactly where he was going with this. "Because when there's real love, it's not just you anymore. That's the hardest lesson to learn—it's not just you. Together you've cre•ated something new, a third thing... My Eef, and in the end that's what saves you—

"Am I interrupting?" Tillman Reeves came walking across the parking lot toward them. None of them had seen him emerge from the building. His sudden appearance like that might have bothered them if all three weren't so caught up in the events of the moment.

Ettrich was pissed off. He had it clear in his mind now and wanted to say it all while it was still there, both for himself and the others. But Till's voice broke through that clarity.

Then something miraculous happened. When Vincent looked at Tillman Reeves this time, it dawned on him who the man really was. Awestruck, Ettrich opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to do anything else. Eventually he covered it with his hand and was silent.

None of the others said anything. They just stared at him. Bruno was certain it was the first sign of Ettrich's caving in to the inevi•table.

"I know who you are!" Ettrich managed to say while looking at Till as if there were nothing else to look at in the world. His thoughts were moving so fast. It was like sitting by the window of a speeding train, trying to catch glimpses of the landscape rushing by outside. He remembered Tillman Reeves lying in the bed next to his before he died. Then meeting him in the hospital the time he'd gone there with Jack. Then a few minutes ago standing by the stage saying to Ettrich, "You're also dying, friend..."

"Now I know who you are! You're my Eef." Till did not react but he didn't deny it either.

Ettrich became more animated. He counted off the proof on his fingers. "You were in the room when I died. You were also in the hospital when I bumped into Bruno. Then you were the first person I recognized in this dream—

"And right now I'm in that same hospital keeping an eye on you, Vincent."

Despite all of their powers, neither Bruno nor Coco had known who Tillman Reeves really was. Now these enemies looked at each other with alarm and genuine trepidation because even they had been fooled by the way this situation was unfolding.

"But what does it mean, Till? I don't understand."

Bruno had had enough. He did not like how his moment of triumph had been turned into a love lecture by Ettrich which then segued into a chat with this old black guy. "Time's up, Vincent. In the real world you just took a turn for the worse. If you're going to go back, do it now." There was a note of petulance in his voice, as if things had better start going his way soon or else he would start making big trouble.

Tillman Reeves ignored him and spoke only to Ettrich. "Chaos creates nothing—it only destroys. It may be able to think in this mosaic, but it has no ability to make—it can only unmake. That's why it hates people—because they're always
creating
things, whether it's great love or castles made out of Coca-Cola bottles. You and Isabelle created me and I've been watching over you ever since." Coco couldn't help saying, "There are no guardian angels." "I'm not an angel. I'm Frankenstein, sort of—but a good one."

Tillman pointed at Vincent. "They took all of their best parts and made me."

Ettrich didn't understand all of this but great tears came to his eyes because his dumb patient heart understood everything.

Bruno stepped away from Ettrich and punched Tillman Reeves in the face. The old man was tall but very thin and frail. He stag•gered backward and fell down, landing on the base of his spine. Paralyzed with pain, he yelped like a small animal.

Now Bruno Mann stood directly above him, kicking at Tillman's head and face, connecting every time, the sound a horror of repeated
thuck
and
umph.
Almost as bad was neither of them made any other noise—no more yelps from Till, no laughter or words raining down from Bruno as he struck.

Vincent Ettrich was not a fighter and never had been. The few times in his life he'd seen people fighting for real, he'd been either amazed or amused. That amazement was back as his initial reaction to seeing old Tillman attacked. But it passed quickly and without another thought Ettrich leapt forward to stop Bruno. Somewhere in the background he heard a woman's voice, Coco's voice, shouting, "No! Don't touch him." But even if that had registered in Ettrich's

mind, it would not have stopped him. He grabbed Bruno Mann's shirt and, pulling him back, wrapped his arms around the King of the Park.

One second, two, five—how long did he have hold of Bruno before being flicked off like a fly? It doesn't matter. In those seconds, Vincent Ettrich held chaos in his arms. No man, no more Mann, no mortal. Chaos.

It went into and through him like an injection of pure heroin that travels at the speed of sadness straight to the heart and brain. He had died once and been brought back to life. Now he died again but return was not so simple. Because Ettrich remained alive this time while the things that made him human died in the hopeless swirl of chaos all around him, world without end. No Lazarus could emerge reborn from this landscape because there was no landscape. Only the process, only the swirl, the unmaking, as Till had so rightly put it. It was an invisible tornado, a tidal wave without water drowning,
unmaking
him forever.

Not even bothering to turn around to check and see where Ettrich was, Bruno continued to beat the old man. Till had somehow managed to curl into a kind of ball, his thin arms barely protecting his head. The blows made terrible sickening sounds as they fell all over his body, wherever Bruno felt like kicking next.

Brought to consciousness by the electric shock of touching chaos,
all
of Vincent Ettrich was in that moment for the first time. Vincent Ettrich who had lived a comfortable empty life and then died an agonizing death, accompanied only by his fears and Tillman Reeves. Ettrich who had been in Death, seen what it was, and learned things there he could show his unborn son. And the Ettrich who had been brought back from Death by Isabelle and her love. All of them awoke and rose together in him. Looking across time and experience, death and resurrection, they saw and recognized each other.

Kick kick kick. Bruno's back was still turned. Why not—what did he have to fear behind him or anywhere in this repellent world? He would deal with Vincent when he was finished dancing on the old man.

Rising off the ground again, Ettrich came at Bruno more slowly this time. For an instant Coco saw his eyes and she immediately screamed. It was so loud and such a peculiar scream that even Bruno stopped and looked up. Lifting his head like that, his neck was exposed. Ettrich saw it, spun Bruno around and bit into and through his windpipe.

He tasted blood and flesh, he tasted chaos. His mouth was full of wet chaos. Every cell of his human self roared, "Spit it out, spit it out." But the other parts of him knew that he must eat all of this and swallow it if he were to prevail. So while Bruno Mann writhed on the ground, his hands to his half-throat trying to hold himself together, Ettrich
chewed.

Most shocking was it did not all taste bad. Of course it was bitter and black, if you had to give it a color. It was every taste you had ever hated, made you sick, made you retch. Yes of course it was. But something in it was delicious because chaos
is
delicious too. It came as the second taste, the aftertaste that surprised the back of your throat after you'd almost spat out the first in utter revulsion.

Some part of Ettrich, who knows which one, wanted more of this taste and probably would have taken it if Coco hadn't grabbed his arm and made him look at her. She knew. His crazed eyes saw that in her face—she knew what he wanted to do.

"No, Vincent—stop."

Her words touched him slowly. Not all of Ettrich agreed. Some said no. Other parts of him were already dropping away, fading. They had done their job. He tried to stop them, to hold them. He would need them all if he were to continue but right now they did as they wanted.

Coco would not let go of him and that was good. At their feet Bruno Mann was dead, his face full of wonder.

Tillman Reeves was slowly moving but he was alive. Chaos moved through Vincent Et•trich's system. Sometimes he shuddered as it touched him every•where inside.

He looked at Coco. She said something but he didn't hear her.

A terrible pain, a pain the size of the moon, tore across the length of his stomach. Chaos moving. "Vincent?"

He had barely enough strength to stand and look at her. "You won."

There were so many machines in and near Vincent that Isabelle had barely enough room among them to hold his hand. Thick white translucent tubes ran into his nose and mouth. There were wires clipped to his chest and fingers.

Beige machines nearby drew yellow lines across black backgrounds. Things all around her made

professional-sounding blips and bleeks. This section of the intensive care ward was more about machines than people, it seemed to Is•abelle. The only person reportedly not hooked up to a machine lay near to Vincent. A curtain was pulled around the bed, blocking the view. She hadn't paid much attention. The wonderful ward nurse, Michelle, went about her work silently and with no fuss. She told Isabelle the unseen patient was a man who had been mugged and sustained serious internal injuries.

Kitty Ettrich and their children had visited Vincent earlier. Be•fore they arrived Isabelle went to the waiting room at the end of the hall so that they could be alone with him. About half an hour later Jack entered the waiting room and sidled up to her. No one else was in there.

He put his hands behind his back and announced, "I was in this hospital with my dad just a few days ago."

Isabelle wanted to take his hand, kiss it, and then kiss his small plump cheeks. But she only nodded as if that were very interesting information she needed.

"My dad is a great guy."

If she spoke she would start to cry. So she only lowered her head and nodded so that the boy couldn't see the

expression on her sorrowing face. When she looked up again he was gone. Only after a while did she realize the boy did not know who she was—he had just wanted to tell someone what a great guy his father was. And that in itself broke Isabelle's heart.

A long time later she went to the nurses' station to ask Nurse Michelle if Vincent's family was still there. The nurse said no but that the doctor would be coming to the room soon and wanted to speak with her. Michelle was normally chatty so her curtness now was chilling. What did the doctor have to tell her that he hadn't already said? Isabelle hurried back to the room to be by Vincent's side. Proximity to him always made her feel better.