12: Ill Winds Blow

Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind
is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity.
While this may not seem beneficial, it is.
There are times when reality is nothing but pain,
and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind.

Patrick Rothfuss

“Well, that was another full day.” Dan leaned forward; his weariness nestled securely within his periorbital bags. He had a drink or three, which loosened his tongue, but didn’t account for his fatigue, nor his continued exuberance. “What’s everyone’s plans for tonight?”

“Given how productive last night was, I suggest we try again,” Alison offered, glancing at Laura for confirmation, however she shook her head.

“No, I was told to consider what I was told, and frankly, we encountered few contemplative moments today. I need time to process everything, and I’m confident some time alone will help us all deal with the day’s events.”

Dan leaned back and frowned, not anticipating her response. “That’s too bad, as I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping with two beauties cuddled in my arms.”

“I’ll concede, such intimacies are reassuring, but there’s time for comfort and time for absolution. Without reflective contemplation, there is no forgiveness, not of self nor others.”

“You know, you get pretty philosophical after a few drinks,” Dan observed, saluting the girls with the meager remains of his latest drink.

“It’s not alcohol which generates philosophy, it’s reflection, which is best undertaken in solitude with few such enticing distractions.”

“You know, Laura,” Alison said, peering deep into her eyes, “I’ve never heard you speak like this. Either last night had a more dramatic effect on you than you let on, or you’ve suffered a stroke. Is this how you talk to your boys, and moreover, do they even listen to such lyrical prose?”

She grinned. “No, they respond best to short, concise commands, though I’m often too guarded to utter the four-letter ones even under my breath. But believe it or not, I once had a life without a husband and kids, back when I had dreams and ambitions of my own. Sometimes, those memories come surging back like an angry tide, sweeping such petty concerns away and leaving only the shattered remains of my former self.”

Dan pushed his glass aside, considering his friends. “Given this dramatic change, I second your stroke diagnosis, though it could easily be a psychic breakdown instead. Both leave you reeling, unsure how to respond and unable to describe it coherently.”

“Now Dan’s catching it too. But Laura’s plenty coherent,” Alison noted, “though I’m too tired to make sense of it. And though I’d love to listen to her ideas bouncing off the inside of her skull, I agree we’re probably best off on our own.” She glanced at Dan and grinned impishly. “Your arms are too alluring. We’re liable to lose ourselves amongst them sone night if we’re not careful.”

“I’d never do any such thring,” she slurred, his drinks finally taking their toll, before he reconsidered his words. “Not that I wouldn’t participate if given the opportunity,” his chair scraped against the wooden floor as he stood, offering the others his arm, “but our first encounters are best faced with a clear mind and not a drunken haze.”

“I’ve had plenty of the latter,” Alison reflected, standing of her own volition, “and though I’m loth to admit it, any private intimacies would likely pale in comparison.”

Laura however, took his arm and leaned in, giving him a chaste kiss before backing away. “I wouldn’t rule out a night of forgetful haze lost in a flurry of embraces, but again, I’d rather face them undistracted. It’s not your attractiveness which dissuades me but fear of what we’re missing. Once we have a better perspective, we can schedule a more convenient celebration.”

“Do you need help getting home?” Alison asked, taking a couple halting steps of her own.

“No, cabs are also suitable contemplative vessels, and the stark contrast when I face my empty, cramped apartment filled with the kids’ things is enough to leave me reeling on its own.”

“If you need us, call,” Dan urged, the sincerity etched in his eyes, their urgency reflected in the dim barroom lights, “and we’ll be there.”

“I know,” Laura acknowledged, kissing them both. “But I really need some time to myself, though tomorrow is always another day.”

“So, are you feeling more settled today?” Dan asked the next morning, changing their usual protocol by kissing her good morning, after Laura joined them. They stiffened, unused to such familiarities, but clearly, Dan’s inadvertent use of the ‘L’ word the other night affected them, something they’d subsequently considered. Neither was prepared to push him on it, but the awareness weighed on them, though Alison couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

“Yes, but the time alone helped.” Laura’s language was less florid than the previous evening. As comfortable as her normal tone was, he missed the strange woman they’d uncovered the last night. They’d gotten drunk together before, but had other things to consider, now he wondered how little he knew about either woman.

“You don’t seem as pumped as you usually are in the morning,” Alison observed. “Have you already been out walking?”

“Actually, no. I don’t know whether it was the liquors, but the spirits abandoning me for the first time in ages. Normally, I wake up refreshed, today I’m feeling exhausted and barely crawled out of bed under my own power.”

Alison chuckled. “You should have called, as I have a history with drunken companions unable to fulfil their duties after showing up for work late.”

“That’s something I’m hoping to avoid,” he assured her. “But like Laura last night, this is an exception, not the rule, but it does leave one scratching their heads. Reflections? Nope, barely a one.”

“Well, I’m feeling much more secure, at least intellectually,” she clarified, “and I’m now looking forward to our next psychic trip, as I have a few more items to ask.”

“There it is,” Dan said. “Last night’s phrasing is diminished, but hardly gone. Hopefully this is a good sign, that after all this time she no longer considers us in relation to her teenage sons and delinquent ex.”

“Whatever,” Alison took each of their arms and led them down the street, “I think we need some caffeine before we continue facing this ever-changing world swirling about us.”

They’d met shy of the various attack sites, anticipating Dan’s early morning walks, but they’d all gotten used to walking and the streets were still scarcely populated. “So, tell us more about this previous life of yours,” Alison urged. “Normally when one describes hidden secrets, there’s more shame and regrets. We’re eager for details.”

“There’s not much to say. There were plenty of late-night discussions in campus bars and midday coffee huts, even idle time reflecting in the park. But eventually, real life shuts such things down and carries you away, no matter how—”

Someone lunged at Dan, wielding a sizable blade. Before either could do anything, Alison grabbed the man’s arm and swung him around, quick witted and surprising him. The badly dressed bearded man lost his balance, waving his arms, as she slammed him face first into the brick wall beside them, knocking his breath out as Dan turned, surprised, as his knife clattered to the ground.

“What the hell?” Laura yelled, too late to do any good, especially since he hadn’t said a thing.

“Ben Wendel?” Dan asked, belatedly stumbling back, eyes wide. “What would your mother, Marta, say?”

“You know this guy?” Laura asked, glancing between the two.

Ben looked beseechingly at Dan, blinking rapidly as his eyes grew moist. “They made me do it.”

“They?” Alison demanded, observing the knife was damp with blood.

They both turned to stare at Dan. “You’re ... you’re hurt.”

Confused, he glanced down, only then noting the growing stain on his lower left side. He hadn’t felt anything.

“Call 911, report an assault and request an ambulance,” Alison ordered, kicking the knife well out of Ben’s reach.

“Who told you?” Dan pressed, ignoring them and his injury.

“You’d best sit down,” Laura cautioned, when the call was picked up, forcing her to turn away as she relayed the information.

“The voices won’t stop!” he cried. “They’ve gotten worse. Before, they kept saying to kill myself, but this week they started calling your name. I ... I didn’t know who you were, so I went online, and ended up at some Italian restaurant.”

“Vitale’s.”

“Yeah. That’s the one. Everyone promised that you’d help, but the voices wouldn’t stop. Finally, someone said you’d been spending time uptown, so I came looking. The ... the voices said you were near, getting more excited, so when I saw you, I knew I had to. I didn’t want this,” he pleaded, “but I had no choice.”

“Tell me about it,” Dan reflected, before his gaze sharpened. “Are you schizophrenic?” He finally sank against the wall in a leaning kneel but faced Ben as they continued their conversation. He nodded.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, but they wouldn’t stop.”

“Are they saying anything now?”

“They still want me to kill you, but they’re ... quieter.”

“They’re on their way,” Laura said, “but it’ll likely take several minutes.”

“How are you feeling, Dan?” Alison asked, not releasing her captive.

“Are you taking your medication?”

“Not for some time. My family’s been trying to get me to start again, but every time I try, the voices get louder.”

Dan considered the others. “This is getting serious guys.”

“They’ll be here soon, but it’ll take a while.”

“No, this is the work of those other forces. They know we’re countering their moves, so they decided to strike, undermining our efforts.”

“That sounds a bit farfetched,” Alison observed.

“How else do you explain it? After all, we were warned, we just didn’t know what to expect or where to look. Now, we know.”

Alison signed, waving her arm and calling some strangers over. “Hey, we need help here!” When they cautiously approached, she indicated Ben. “Hold this guy will you, but don’t touch the knife. It’s evidence.”

They both studied Dan, apparently observing more than they’d realized. “Will he be alright?”

“That’s what I’m trying to discover.” She raised Dan’s shirt, and seeing blood, requested the man’s undershirt. When he balked, she snapped. “Give it to me, NOW!”

As he complied, she examined the wound by spreading it with her fingers. “It’s not too serious, but you’ll probably start feeling woozy. Try not to move much.” She yelled into the growing early-morning crowd. “Can someone get us some water?” The two new additions were holding Ben against the wall, as Alison focused on Dan.

“What are you going to do?” Laura asked.

“Clear the wound, obviously. We have no idea where that knife has been. Damn, there’s another cut farther back. It’s not as bad, but both are bleeding steadily, with little sign of clotting.”

“Look, we’ll need to watch our backs,” Dan urged, unconcerned. He struggled to stand, leaning against the building. Alison growled at him, but he ignored her, and she didn’t try to stop him.

Getting frustrated, Alison finally ripped Dan’s shirt off, physically turning him and examining his back. “Geez, this is worse than I thought. The attack started in the back and sliced across him as he turned. The initial entry is deeper, cutting well into the muscle. I used to always carry my medic kit with needle and thread, it would prove handy now.”

The volunteer from the crowd finally passed her his white t-shirt, as he stood shirtless behind them. She thanked him and proceeded to shred it, tearing it into strips to bind the wound as Dan continued bleeding.

“They say it’ll be at least another three minutes, depending on traffic,” Laura said, as Dan began surveying the crowd, searching for God knows what. Ben though, was quietly sobbing, unable to look at anyone.

“So, while we’re killing time waiting to hear about Dan, what’s this about your past?” Laura didn’t acknowledge Alison’s inquiry, still staring at the waiting room door, which hadn’t opened since he was wheeled into surgery. “It sounds like you’re disappointed by your life choices. Is it related to your strained relationship with Leon?”

“No. Leon and I aren’t close, but we get along well, though he bristles whenever I ask him to spend extra time with the kids, but ... no, I’m fine.”

“It didn’t sound like that last night.”

“People get emotional while drinking and say things they shouldn’t. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Look, Laura, this is me! Although we haven’t known each other for long, we’ve shared some intense times over the past weeks. I’ve never heard that from you before. You sounded like a completely different person, and ... it fit you. In a way your ‘patient-mothering’ role doesn’t. We’re stuck here, worrying with nowhere to go. Now’s the time to confide.”

Laura sighed, sat back and closed her eyes. Reopening them, she stared into the distance. “When I was young, I was an intellectual firebrand. I was ready to challenge virtually any assumption, upsetting any convenient apple carts in my way. During high school and college, I was part of a studious cliché, and we’d often drink with our professors and debated numerous topics.

“While that frequently ends for most, here in the city I discovered like-minded people, and we’d end up in quiet, quaint bars doing the same thing. Being philosophical was my thing.”

She leaned back, letting her head fall back, though her eyes were too hooded to see. “Then Leon asked me out. He wasn’t my type, but he was enthusiastic and sincere, and I value sincerity. So we went on a few dates and ended up sleeping together—once—and a couple months later I discovered I was pregnant.

“I immediately chose to abort it, as it didn’t fit into my worldview. But I decided to call Leon, just to let him know what happened and what I intended to do. Rather than merely saying ‘Okay’ or arguing, he asked if we could discuss it calmly over tea. The tea thing caught me off guard. It’s hard getting angry sipping something warm and comforting.

“Then my family discovered what I was planning and went ballistic, insisting how I’d regret it for the rest of my life, how an infant would give meaning to my insular life and allow me to connect with others my age. But I wanted nothing to do with it.

“But because Leon was so sincere—mostly about the tea—we met, and I detailed the opposition I was facing. But instead of taking a definitive stand, he patiently listened, entertaining each position and letting me talk it out.

“When I finished, he posed several thoughtful questions about my feelings, my family relations and whether I harbored any childhood disillusions. Unlike all my agitator friends, he was patient and kind, so I reconsidered, and he started seriously pursuing me.

“Realizing I wasn’t suited for it, I knew I needed a partner if I wanted to survive it, so things got serious quickly and three months later we were married.

“My intellectual friends were aghast, not so much over my decision, but by how ‘provincial’ Leon and both of our families were. And while I shared their sentiment, it was the last thing I needed to hear. As a result, I turned my back on my friends, swallowed my pride and embraced our folks.

“However, my associates were right. Leon’s certainly no intellectual, and our relatives made fun of my vocabulary, assuming I was talking down to them when it was just how I spoke.”

Laura paused, taking a sip of her cold coffee in the sterile, chilly waiting room. “I tried. I really did. But we were never suited for each other. Hell, Leon wasn’t interested in dating me until I announced I was pregnant, and then he gallantly swept in and offered to protect me in my hour of need. So, there was plenty of resentment all around.

“When we inevitably drifted apart, things grew even more strained, but with nowhere else to turn beside our neighbors, our parents and my other mommy-and-me friends, I’d changed and no longer fit within either group.

“So, we got divorced when Peter was ten and Adam was eight. We sat the kids down and laid out what was happening. For once, we were unified in our message, so while the boys were concerned, they accepted it, more or less.

“However, by then it was too late to turn back. My old friends had moved on, had families of their own and exciting new positions, and was I no longer conversant about the topics I’d once thrived on, and lost my old speech patterns. So once I was living on my own, I had nowhere to go but remain exactly where I was—only without my gallant knight protecting me anymore. But I had to be strong for my kids, so I put all of my childhood dreams away, cried one last time for the life I’d forsworn, and moved on.

“But whenever the drinks start pouring, I revert back to my old self, and it feels so natural, it’s difficult to resist and I fall back into my old patterns. Only it scares my friends, so after getting so many belligerent looks, I quickly shut it down again.”

She finally turned, looking Alison in the eyes. “But neither you nor Dan are like that. When I started reverting to my old self, you both took it in stride. You were shocked by my about-face, but not enough to dissuade me. But the morning after, I did as I always do, admit it’s no longer who I am, and got on with my life once again.”

Alison leaned in, hugging Laura. “That’s certainly not what we want. We were just surprised since we’d never met that bright, inquisitive mind before. Please, give us a chance to meet her before you decide to hide her away once and for all. Let us get to know her, and if she’s the dynamic thinker I suspect she is, allow us to encourage her, so she’ll once again flourish.”

“No,” Laura said, crushing her now-empty paper cup and tossing it into the nearby trashcan. “That part of me is firmly locked away and only slips out when the libations loosen my tongue, and it slithers away from me.

“It’s not that I don’t miss it, but I can’t reclaim what’s no longer there. Even though the eager excitement remains, there’s no remaining knowledge buttressing the flimsy philosophical framework, so it’s ultimately unsustainable.”

“Even so, let us be the judge of that. But either way, it’s you that we’re interested in, and whatever it is that makes you who you are is what fascinates us. Don’t lock us or your younger, idealistic self away, but let us feel her out, she how well she defends herself, and we’ll evaluate her performance together. ‘Cause, I’m pretty sure we’ll love both of you.”

She stood, glancing around the room, observing the strangers listening to her diatribe. “Maybe you will, but my kids won’t recognize her.” She pulled her jacket tight around her and heading into the hallway to stretch her legs—alone. “Those days are gone forever, and for good reason!”

“Ms. Ford. I’m Detective Araceli. I was informed when the call went out and got here as soon as I could. We’ve been working together. What’s the word? What’s Dan’s status and how did he know his attacker?”

“Yeah, I know who you are, Lee, as Dan tells us everything, even those he won’t tell anyone else. But forget that ‘Ms. Ford’ nonsense. Call me Alison. Dan is still in surgery. He got lucky, nothing was seriously damaged, but he lost a lot of blood and will be walking gingerly for a few days. His pre-dawn walks will be limited for a while. But as we told the officer in charge, he didn’t know his attacker.”

“But the interviewing officer said—”

“No, Dan spoke with his mother, who died several years ago. Apparently, Ben Wendel has been drifting from place to place ever since. But the man’s a wreck. We’d prefer if he was put back on the necessary medication, and once he’s stable, placed in a half-way house with the remaining charges dropped.” She paused, briefly glancing around. “Dan thinks he was influenced by otherworldly entities, an unwitting pawn, trying to circumvent the progress we’ve been making.”

“How do you—”

She waved his question aside, too weary for it. “Laura was able to ask some spirits knowledgeable of the events, who weren’t as constrained as those Dan’s been hearing from. They gave us a warning that ‘things would continue changing’ and that ‘there are other factors involved’, but we had no idea they’d assault us directly. But apparently, they’ve become desperate, as they’re betting heavily on this attack occurring as planned.”

Araceli ran his hand through his thinning hair. “So, she’s now involved in the same stuff he is. This is certainly beyond my comprehension, but we’ll appreciate any help we can get at this point.”

“Their psychic skills are different. His journeys between the two realms but is limited as to how much they’ll reveal. Laura’s able to ask them questions directly, face-to-face, and get honest answers, but they’re afraid to overwhelm her. But she depends on Dan, as she can’t ask unless he takes her.”

“I’m glad I stick with the living, as that’s difficult enough. Where is Laura?”

“She went on a cafeteria snack run while we’re waiting for him to come out of surgery.”

“It sounds like I should provide you each a protective detail, as we can’t afford to lose you at this stage. I can’t do much about these otherworldly spirits, but I can protect you from these wackos.”

“That’s appreciated, but I suspect we’ll be looking after Dan and I’m at least semi-protected while in the hospital. Laura though, is another case, as she spends every other week alone in her apartment with her kids.”