Hemlock Bay
Page 22
“I see. Your husband called you the next day—Wednesday—and he wanted you to take some medical slides to a doctor in Ferndale?”
“That’s right.”
“And the only road is 211.”
“Yes. I hate that road, always have. It’s dangerous. And it was dusk. Driving at that time of day always makes me antsy. I’m always very careful.”
“It makes me nervous as well. Now, you took two more antidepressant pills, right?”
“That’s right. Then I slept. I had terrible nightmares.”
“Tell me what you remember about the nightmares.”
Dr. Chu wasn’t holding her hand now, but still Lily felt a touch of warmth go through her, felt like it was deep inside her now, so deep it was warming her very soul. “I saw Beth struck by that car, over and over, struck and hurled screaming and screaming, at least twenty feet, crying out my name, over and over. When I awoke, I could still see Beth. I remember just lying there and crying and then I felt lethargic, my brain dull.”
“You felt leached of hope?”
“Yes, that’s it exactly. I felt like nothing was worth anything, particularly me. I wasn’t worth anything. Everything was black, just black. Nothing mattered anymore.”
“All right, Lily, now you’re driving away from your house. You’re in your red Explorer. What do you think of your car?”
“Tennyson yells every time I call it a car. I haven’t done that for months now. It’s an Explorer and nothing else is like it and it isn’t a car, so you call it by its name and that’s it.”
“You don’t like the Explorer much, do you?”
“My in-laws gave it to me for my birthday. That was in August. I turned twenty-seven.”
Dr. Chu didn’t appear to be probing or delving; she was merely speaking with a friend, nothing more, nothing less. She was also lightly stroking Lily’s left hand. Then she turned to Savich and nodded.
“Lily.”
“Yes, Dillon.”
“How do you feel, sweetheart?”
“So warm, Dillon, so very warm. And there’s no nagging pain anywhere. It’s wonderful. I want to marry Dr. Chu. She’s got magic in her hands.”
He smiled at that and said, “I’m glad you feel good. Are you driving on 211 yet?”
“Yes, I just made a right onto the road. I don’t mind the beginning of it, but you get into the redwoods and it’s so dark and the trees press in on you. I’ve always thought that some maniac carved that road.”
“I agree with you. What are you thinking, Lily?”
“I’m thinking that when it’s dark, it will be just like a shroud is thrown over all those thick redwoods. Just like Beth was in a shroud and I’m so depressed that I want to end it, Dillon, just end it and get it over with. It’s relentless, this greedy pain. I’m thinking it’s settled into my soul and it won’t leave me, ever. I just can’t stand it any longer.”
“This pain,” Dr. Chu said in her soft voice, holding Lily’s hand now, squeezing occasionally, “tell me more about this pain.”
“I know the pain wants to be one with me. I want to give over to it. I know that if I become the pain and the pain becomes me, then I’ll be able to expiate my guilt.”
“You came to the conclusion that you had to kill yourself because it was the only way you could make reparation? To redress the balance?”
“Yes. A life for a life. My life—worth nothing much—for her small, precious life.”
Then Lily frowned.
Dr. Chu lightly ran her palm over Lily’s forearm, then back to clasp her limp hand. “What are you thinking now, Lily?”
“I just realized that something isn’t right. I didn’t kill Beth. No, I’d been at the newspaper, giving my cartoon to Boots O’Malley, seeing what he thought, you know?”
“I know. And he laughed, right?”
“Yes. I heard the sheriff say later that Beth’s body had been thrown at least twenty feet.”
Lily stopped. She squeezed Dr. Chu’s hand so tightly her knuckles whitened.
“Just stay calm, Lily. Everything is just fine. I’m here. Your brother and Mrs. Savich are here. Forget what the sheriff said. Now, you suddenly recognized that you didn’t kill Beth.”
“That’s right,” Lily whispered, her eyelids fluttering. “I realize that something is wrong. I suddenly remember taking those sleeping pills that Tennyson put on the bedside table. I took so many of them, felt them stick in my throat and I swallowed and swallowed to get them down, and I sat with that bottle and chanted, more, more, more, and then the bottle was nearly empty and I thought suddenly, Wait, I don’t want to die, but then it was too late, and I felt so sorry for the loss of Beth and the loss of me.”
“That’s right.”
“And the only road is 211.”
“Yes. I hate that road, always have. It’s dangerous. And it was dusk. Driving at that time of day always makes me antsy. I’m always very careful.”
“It makes me nervous as well. Now, you took two more antidepressant pills, right?”
“That’s right. Then I slept. I had terrible nightmares.”
“Tell me what you remember about the nightmares.”
Dr. Chu wasn’t holding her hand now, but still Lily felt a touch of warmth go through her, felt like it was deep inside her now, so deep it was warming her very soul. “I saw Beth struck by that car, over and over, struck and hurled screaming and screaming, at least twenty feet, crying out my name, over and over. When I awoke, I could still see Beth. I remember just lying there and crying and then I felt lethargic, my brain dull.”
“You felt leached of hope?”
“Yes, that’s it exactly. I felt like nothing was worth anything, particularly me. I wasn’t worth anything. Everything was black, just black. Nothing mattered anymore.”
“All right, Lily, now you’re driving away from your house. You’re in your red Explorer. What do you think of your car?”
“Tennyson yells every time I call it a car. I haven’t done that for months now. It’s an Explorer and nothing else is like it and it isn’t a car, so you call it by its name and that’s it.”
“You don’t like the Explorer much, do you?”
“My in-laws gave it to me for my birthday. That was in August. I turned twenty-seven.”
Dr. Chu didn’t appear to be probing or delving; she was merely speaking with a friend, nothing more, nothing less. She was also lightly stroking Lily’s left hand. Then she turned to Savich and nodded.
“Lily.”
“Yes, Dillon.”
“How do you feel, sweetheart?”
“So warm, Dillon, so very warm. And there’s no nagging pain anywhere. It’s wonderful. I want to marry Dr. Chu. She’s got magic in her hands.”
He smiled at that and said, “I’m glad you feel good. Are you driving on 211 yet?”
“Yes, I just made a right onto the road. I don’t mind the beginning of it, but you get into the redwoods and it’s so dark and the trees press in on you. I’ve always thought that some maniac carved that road.”
“I agree with you. What are you thinking, Lily?”
“I’m thinking that when it’s dark, it will be just like a shroud is thrown over all those thick redwoods. Just like Beth was in a shroud and I’m so depressed that I want to end it, Dillon, just end it and get it over with. It’s relentless, this greedy pain. I’m thinking it’s settled into my soul and it won’t leave me, ever. I just can’t stand it any longer.”
“This pain,” Dr. Chu said in her soft voice, holding Lily’s hand now, squeezing occasionally, “tell me more about this pain.”
“I know the pain wants to be one with me. I want to give over to it. I know that if I become the pain and the pain becomes me, then I’ll be able to expiate my guilt.”
“You came to the conclusion that you had to kill yourself because it was the only way you could make reparation? To redress the balance?”
“Yes. A life for a life. My life—worth nothing much—for her small, precious life.”
Then Lily frowned.
Dr. Chu lightly ran her palm over Lily’s forearm, then back to clasp her limp hand. “What are you thinking now, Lily?”
“I just realized that something isn’t right. I didn’t kill Beth. No, I’d been at the newspaper, giving my cartoon to Boots O’Malley, seeing what he thought, you know?”
“I know. And he laughed, right?”
“Yes. I heard the sheriff say later that Beth’s body had been thrown at least twenty feet.”
Lily stopped. She squeezed Dr. Chu’s hand so tightly her knuckles whitened.
“Just stay calm, Lily. Everything is just fine. I’m here. Your brother and Mrs. Savich are here. Forget what the sheriff said. Now, you suddenly recognized that you didn’t kill Beth.”
“That’s right,” Lily whispered, her eyelids fluttering. “I realize that something is wrong. I suddenly remember taking those sleeping pills that Tennyson put on the bedside table. I took so many of them, felt them stick in my throat and I swallowed and swallowed to get them down, and I sat with that bottle and chanted, more, more, more, and then the bottle was nearly empty and I thought suddenly, Wait, I don’t want to die, but then it was too late, and I felt so sorry for the loss of Beth and the loss of me.”
