Chapter 10

Jesus, what a hell of a dream, I thought as I woke up. I'd actually done surgery! And it was so damn detailed, every step still clear in my head. I wondered if I had some subconscious desire to be a doctor, if that was where it all came from.

Kitty wasn't in the bed any more; he seemed to have gone downstairs. I wasn't surprised when I glanced at the clock, I'd slept in really late, it was nearly noon.

Then memories of last night's dinner with Camilla abruptly came back to me, and my heart did an extra few beats. Playing surgeon had been a dream, but this was real! I was going to sing Scarpia, one of the greatest roles in the repertoire! Everything I'd quit electronics for was going to come true!

And Camilla had kissed me, and she was going to rehearse with me and help me learn the part. Suddenly I was ecstatic, and fairly bounced out of bed and waltzed into the john. "I'm up now, kitty, and coming down!" I called out. "Breakfast soon!" There was no response, but I didn't think anything of it.

Usually I didn't dress before breakfast, just threw on a robe, but today seemed a good one for changing that around. In fact, let's make it a full change; I got in the shower and took a quick one. Marullo could slouch around the house in a bathrobe, but Scarpia needed to look neat and clean. I looked around for a fresh razor blade to complete the transformation but couldn't find one and made do with the old one. I'd have to put blades on my shopping list, apparently I'd run out without noticing.

While I was dressing I experimentally ran a quick scale. And did it again just for the sheer joy of it; there was my brand new voice still, as bright and clear and strong as last night, echoing through the cabin. I'd be a Scarpia people wouldn't soon forget, I'd be magnificent, I'd make the world sit up and take notice.

With all those happy thoughts cascading through my head I was finally ready. I fumbled through my closet and picked out a pair of dress shoes I'd bought recently and completed my ensemble with them. Even if it was just me at home—well, me and the cat—I needed to start looking the part of the successful world-class baritone I was becoming. Going to become, I shouldn't get ahead of myself.

There was an extra hop in my stride as I made my way down the stairs, calling out again to the cat. "Hey, kitty, I'm coming now, breakfast time! And isn't it a great day!" And I hit the bottom of the stairs and rounded the corner—

Into a horror movie.

The first thing I saw was the towels spread out on the table. And more towels strewn about on the floor, stiff with what I knew had to be dried blood. And in the middle of the table itself, mostly covered by yet another towel, was my poor cat, unmoving.

"Oh," burst out of me inadequately. I stopped dead still for a moment and stared.

What in God's name had I done?

Last night's dream flooded back to me. It had all seemed so vivid. Somehow I must have started sleepwalking, and got up and grabbed the cat and put him on the table and—

—and cut him up and killed him!

What the hell kind of man was I to have done such a thing? What kind of evil, vicious bastard was hiding inside me that I could have done this to a poor, innocent animal? I'd loved that cat! But I'd killed him in the cruelest way I could imagine. For God's sake, I'd vivisected him! But why? What terrible, unspeakable things had been going on in my mind that made me do it?

In an instant what had promised to be the best day of my life had turned into the worst.

Tears came into my eyes and began overflowing. "I'm so sorry, kitty, I'm so very, very sorry!" I started saying, and kept saying it, over and over. I walked over to look more closely, and finally reached out to gently touch his poor little head.

He wasn't dead! Not yet, at least; he stirred a little as I touched him, and his tail curled up and around my wrist in that familiar fashion. And then my world turned upside down one more time as I heard that gentle, calming voice of my dream again.

"Be at ease," it said. "You have done that which needed to be done. I am ill now, more ill than even I was, but I will be well and you have made it so. I give you thanks more than can be spoken."

I could only stand there with my mouth hanging open.