"You need clothes, Laura. You can't go outside like that," he said. "I know. When we get downstairs, we'll go to your old room and get something for you to wear and then we'll go to the door off the kitchen, the one I showed you," he said.
"Yes, yes. But we've got to hurry."
"We've got to be careful," he corrected. "If we're caught, they're sure to take more drastic measures with both of us." He went to the door and peered out. "It looks clear," he said.
I swung my feet over the side of the bed and stood. For a moment I swayed and nearly fell, but I steadied myself quickly. He came to me to take my arm, and we both went to the door. He looked again.
"When we go out, we go around the corner and take the first door on the left, Laura. We'll go down the stairway and stop at the bottom floor so I can check the corridor again. I've done this enough times already to be an expert. Don't worry," he added.
I nodded, eager.
Lawrence took my hand and led me from the mom to the doorway. We slipped away quickly and started down the steps. My head was spinning, but I didn't let on how dizzy I was until I slipped on the landing and he had to catch and hold me.
"You're so weak, Laura. How can you leave the clinic?" "I can do it, Lawrence. Once I'm away and out in fresh air, I'll be fine
-
He held me for another indecisive moment, and then he guided me down the next flight of steps, until we were at the bottom floor and he was checking the hallway. After a few moments, he nodded and we scurried out and down the hallway to the residential area. Minutes later, we were in my old bedroom. We didn't put on the lights for fear of attracting attention. I went to the closet and found a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, but there were no shoes or sneakers. I had to wear my slippers.
Lawrence remained at the doorway with his back to me as I dressed.
I paused by the small table and looked at the journal! had been keeping for Doctor Southerby. No one had bothered giving it to Doctor Scanlon. I was tempted to take it with me, but hesitated. I didn't want any reminders of this place, if I could help it, I thought. I wanted to leave this place behind me for good.
"I'm ready," I announced.
Lawrence looked at me and shook his head. He didn't move.
"What?" I asked.
"I can't let you do this by yourself, Laura. I'm going to go with you."
"You're going to leave the clinic, too?"
"Yes," he said. I could almost feel him trembling in the dark. Lawrence had told me that he hadn't been off the grounds for years.
"You don't have to do that, Lawrence."
"I want to," he said.
He watched the corridor and indicated I should be still. Seconds later, we heard talking and through the crack in the doorway saw Billy and Arnie walk down the corridor. They paused near my door. Billy whispered something to Arnie and they broke out into laughter as they continued down the hallway, disappearing around the corner.
"Now," Lawrence said, and we shot out and hurried down the hallway to the cafeteria. Just before we reached the kitchen, the doors opened and a janitor stepped out pushing a pail on rollers. He didn't look right or left or he would have seen us with our backs against the wall, watching him go through the cafeteria and out into the hall. We waited.
I looked at Lawrence. He seemed suddenly frozen against the wall.
"Shouldn't we go now?" I asked him. He nodded, but he didn't move.
"Maybe you should go back, Laura. I don't know if this is the right thing to do. No," he concluded. "It isn't. I shouldn't have done this. Please, let's go back," he said. He was trembling badly, and even in the subdued light, I saw how white his complexion had turned.
"No, I can't go back. I have to leave," I said. I started away and entered the kitchen myself. Moments later, Lawrence was behind me.
"How will you get home?" he asked when we confronted the metal door.
"I don't know."
"You don't even know which way to go. Laura, this is wrong," he said, seizing my arm to hold me back. "Laura. ."
His voice seemed to die away after he pronounced my name, the word falling lower and lower as if everything he was saying were being said from the top of a deep well and I was on the very bottom. I felt like I was shrinking.
"Laura. . . don't go. Laura . . come back."
"Yes, Robert," I said. "I'm coming back."
"What? Laura, it's me. Lawrence."
I went to the door.
"Laura! Wait!"
I pushed the door open and stepped out into the night, and then, I heard him calling again.
"Laura, come back! Come back!"
"Yes," I said. "I'm coming, Robert.Ill be there soon."
I turned and started around the building. Above me, the sky was thick with clouds. There were no stars, no promises for tomorrow.
I stumbled, but ignored the pain. I could hear his voice in the wind. Sometimes it was loud and sometimes it sounded far, far away.
"Laura, wait. Where are you going? You can't get to the highway that way. Laura."
Lawrence grabbed me at the elbow and spun me around.
"Laura, what are you doing? You lost your slipper back there," he said and gave it to me. I stared at it a moment and then at him.
"I'm not going back," I said. "Tell my grandmother I'm not going to give him up."
"What? You're not making any sense, Laura. Aren't you cold?" he asked, embracing himself. He looked around us. The weeping willow trees shook in the wind. "That wind is wild tonight. There's a storm brewing."
"Of course there's a storm brewing," I said, "but that won't stop us. You can tell her I said that."
I slipped my foot into the slipper and continued down the path, past the benches and the gardens.
"Tell whom? Laura, you're not making any sense. Laura!" he shouted.
Someone inside the building heard him. A light went on and then another. I heard doors opening and voices calling out into the night. It drove me on faster. I was running down the hill now, slipping and sliding, losing the slippers again, but not slowing down. Something inside me told me not to slow down for an instant or it would be too late.
And besides, he was calling louder and more desperately each time.
"I'm coming, Robert. I'm coming, my darling Robert," I cried into the darkness.
Ahead of me, the ocean thundered as the waves slammed against the rocks and the sea spray flew into the night. My eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, but shapes were still only silhouettes. Some of the rocks had been stroked so long by the water, they gleamed like jewels in the night.
I fell and scraped my arm on a rock. It stung, but I didn't pay any attention to the pain. Instead, I got back to my feet as quickly as I could and listened. His voice was gone. The ocean was drowning him out.
"Robert!" I screamed.
"Laura! Where are you?" The voice seemed to come from behind me, but then I heard it again, this time from directly in front of me. "Laura. I'm here. Laura!"
"Yes, yes, Robert. I'm here."
I moved more carefully over the smaller rocks, until I reached the water and the tide slapped at my legs. Concentrating hard, I could see the boat rising and falling. The small mast was broken and lay over the side, the sail soaked. I started into the water.
"Robert!" I called. "Robert!"
The boat lifted again, only this time it came down on its side and then turned completely over, and after it had, I saw him, bobbing in the water, his arm up.
"Laura . . ."
"Robert, I'm coming. Wait."
He disappeared for a moment. I charged ahead, the water now up to my waist.
"Laura!" I heard someone scream behind me, but I didn't turn back. That was Grandmother Olivia's trick to get me to give him up. Don't look back, I thought, or you'll be like Lot's wife and turn into a pillar of salt.
I started to swim toward the boat. His head reappeared and then that arm slowly emerged from the dark water, just as it had many times before in my dreams. I tried to shout to him as I swam, but it was difficult because the water slammed into my face and I swallowed some, gagging for a moment. The waves lifted and threw me back, but I continued, swimming as furiously as I could now. I wasn't far from the boat.
His head lifted slowly and his eyes--even in the darkness without a moon and stars--his eyes were luminous and full of love.
"Robert, my darling," I called to him and swam and swam and swam. When I looked up, the boat wasn't any closer. Was it just the strong tide keeping me back?
My arms ached. My clothing weighed me down. I treaded water and stripped off my jeans and then my shirt. The tide carried off its bounty quickly and I turned back to my swimming, putting all my strength into every stroke. I felt myself lift and fall with the water and when I looked out again, there was the boat, but not any closer.
"Robert, I can't lose you. I won't lose you. Don't let them take you from me. Please."
Miraculously, he appeared only inches away, his head emerging from the sea, his arms out toward me. I stretched until our hands joined.
"Robert--"
"Laura," he said. "My Laura."
I felt him draw me closer to him until his arms were around me. The water didn't matter anymore. I didn't feel how cold it was or how rough it was. In his arms I felt safe and warm. We kissed.
"I waited for you," he said. "I knew you would come back to me, so I waited for you."
"I'm so glad, Robert. I'm so happy."
I turned toward the shore. Someone was waving madly. He was up to his waist and waving.
"Let's go back," I said, "together."
"No, Laura. We can't go back," Robert said. "Come . . ." He gestured with his head toward the overturned sailboat.
"Oh," I said. I smiled, understanding.
We swam together for a few moments and then I reached forward to touch the boat. Robert did, too. We turned to each other and we brought out lips together and kissed as the darkness swept in over us.
But I was happy, as happy as I had once been.
I was with my love.
Forever.
Epilogue
.
The black Rolls-Royce climbed the hill to the
clinic slowly, rising over the crest of the knoll. The automobile came to a stop in front of the main entrance as the sun was covered by a long, dark cloud. The driver got out and quickly opened the door for Olivia Logan. He reached in to take her at the elbow, but she shook him off.
"I'm all right, Raymond," she snapped. She paused after emerging and looked at the building as if it were alive and the windows now glittering like mirrors were the dozens of eyes greeting her.
"Just wait right here," she ordered and made her way to the steps.
Raymond watched her obediently for a few moments before getting back into the Rolls. He reached for his newspaper and lowered the back of the seat.
Before Olivia Logan reached the entrance, the door opened and Doctor Scanlon, with Mrs. Kleckner on one side and Mrs. Roundchild on the other, stepped forward to greet her. She paused and looked at them, her eyes full of contempt and accusation. The three seemed to wilt; Herbert Scanlon, the most. It was as if his clothes were growing on his body. His shirt collar widened and he pressed the knot of his tie between his right thumb and forefinger before reaching out to take Olivia's hand.
"Where is she?" Olivia asked.
"We have her in the infirmary. I'm sorry," Doctor Scanlon began. "I--"
Olivia put up her black-gloved hand, palm forward. "Save your explanations for later," she said. "Take me to her."
The three separated, Mm. Roundchild stepping back so Olivia could enter the building.
There wasn't anyone in the lobby. The patients were all at lunch. Olivia paused, struck by the silence, and then continued as Herbert Scanlon directed her to another doorway and the corridor beyond. The two nurses trailed behind, neither looking at the other, neither saying a word.
"The patients are all in the dining room," Doctor Scanlon said.
"Except one," Olivia remarked.
He glanced back at his nurses and continued walking. When they reached the end of the corridor, they turned right at a door labeled,,Infirmary. Dr. Scanlon opened it and stepped back for Olivia to enter. The nurse, wearing a nametag, Suzanne Cohen, rose so quickly from her desk chair it looked like she had been sitting on springs. She looked at Doctor Scanlon, her face gray with concern.
"This is Mrs. Logan," he said. "She's here to see Laura."
"Oh yes," the infirmary nurse said. "I'm so sorry," she added.
Olivia closed her eyes and shook her head.
"I'm not interested in hearing apologies," she replied. Sue Cohen glanced at Doctor Scanlon and saw from the expression on his face that she should move quickly.
"This way," she said, and led them through the small lobby to a rear door and down a short hall, on either side of which were examination rooms, radiology, a laboratory, and at the very end, a room that fortunately was used rarely. It had no label on the door, but everyone who worked there knew it to be their morgue.
She opened the door and stepped back.
Olivia approached slowly and gazed in at the steel gurney covered with a sheet, on which lay the body of her granddaughter. The room had no particular odor. It seemed aseptic, devoid of any character, or light.
Olivia approached the gurney. Doctor Scanlon moved quickly to get beside her.
"Let me see her," Olivia demanded.
He lowered the sheet to her neck and Olivia gazed for a long moment.
Now, now that she was here and they were around her, she would make demands.
"How did this happen?"
Doctor Scanlon was prepared.
"Another patient with whom she had developed something of a relationship snuck up to our special floor and helped her escape down a stairway used by the employees. He knew of the one door we don't keep alarmed and showed her the way out of the building. He claimed she wanted to go home."
Olivia turned with interest.
"Home? Then how did she end up in the ocean?"
"You have to understand," Doctor Scanlon said, "that this other patient is a seriously disturbed young man himself. It's taken an enormous effort to get him to be lucid enough to give us any sensible details. This entire event has put him into a regression that--"
"I'm not here to discuss him," Olivia said sharply. Doctor Scanlon nodded.
"Apparently, from what I've been able to garner, she heard voices."
"Voices? What voices?"
"Mainly the voice of her young man, the one who drowned. Lawrence--that's this other patient's name-- said she kept calling for Robert. He said as soon as he showed her the way out, she turned toward the sea and ran. He tried to stop her, but she was determined."
"She went down to the ocean and deliberately drowned herself?" Olivia asked incredulously.
"That's not uncommon, suicidal tendencies in cases such as hers, Mrs. Logan."
"Then why wasn't she guarded, day and night?" Olivia snapped at him.
"I . . well, she was on our most secure floor."
"Secure floor? And yet this other patient was able to get to her and take her away?"
"No one expected . ." He looked to Mrs. Roundchild, who stepped forward.
"She was strapped in, medicated. We had just looked in on her. He must have been hiding in the doorway, watching," she explained.
"Send them away," Olivia commanded with a wave of her hand.
Doctor Scanlon nodded at the nurses and they all backed out of the room. As soon as they had, Olivia turned on him.
"You know I could sue this clinic and you for every penny you are worth. Word of this sort of negligence would destroy you," she said, her eyes small, but full of fire. Doctor Scanlon could barely swallow. He nodded. Olivia held her hateful glare on him like a spotlight, hot and intense. Finally, she turned back to Laura.
"It's your good fortune, however, that I don't want word of this to leave these premises."
"What? But in any death, there's an inquest, reports . ."
"It's your problem," she said. "I don't want this in any newspaper. We're going to give her a proper burial and that will be all. This could devastate my family," she added and turned, "and I won't permit it."
"I understand. I'll do the best I can."
"No, you'll do what I ask, not the best you can." She looked at Laura again. "We see the results of the best you can do. I want more than that."
He nodded, sweat trickling down his brow.
"Do you want any of her things, anything you sent?"
"Not at the moment, no," Olivia said. "I hesitate to ask, because I have some doubts about your competence now, but was she making any progress?"
"Oh, yes. I think in time I could have effected a complete recovery," he bragged.
"What did she recall before . . . before this?" Olivia asked.
"Her family, her parents, her brother and sister, and most of the tragic event," he replied.
"She said nothing about me?"
"Not a word during my sessions and from what I see of Southerby's results, not a word with him either," Doctor Scanlon said.
"What about him?"
"That's taken care of," he said quickly.
"Good. I want it all taken care of, Herbert." She turned again and fixed her piercing eyes on him, turning his spine to ice. "I mean it."
"I understand. Is there anything special you want at the gravesite?"
"No," she said. "Leave me for a moment," she ordered. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Mrs. Logan. Truly."
She said nothing and he left.
For a long while, she stared at Laura's face. Then she took a short, deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.
"I'm sorry about you," she said. "I know you won't ever understand now, but what I did, I did for my family. Family is all that really matters, family name, family loyalty. It's who we are when we come into this world and who we are when we leave it, and we must cling tenaciously to it all the time in between, Laura."
She gazed at her granddaughter and thought how beautiful she looked, even in death.
"Somehow I knew that after you lost your precious Robert, you would never have a really happy moment, Laura. Maybe . . maybe you weren't so mad, as sick as the doctors think. Maybe you heard him calling.
"In a strange way," she whispered, "I envy you, my dear."
She reached out and touched Laura's cold face. Then she turned and left the room.
Doctor Scanlon escorted her to the front entrance.
"My lawyer will be in contact with you to be sure all is done as I instruct," she said.
"Yes, I understand," Doctor Scanlon said with a small nod.
"I want you to do something else for me."
"Of course," Doctor Scanlon said without hesitation, without hearing it first.
"I want you to tell that young man, that other patient something."
"Yes?"
"I want you to tell him I don't blame him for anything. Tell him I thank him for being her friend. Will you do that?"
"I will. It will help him, Mrs. Logan. It's very kind of you."
"I'm not doing it for him. II doing it for Laura and," she said, looking at the Rolls-Royce, "for myself."
She started down the steps. Raymond got out quickly and opened the door. Doctor Scanlon wiped his face with his handkerchief as he watched her get into her automobile. When the door closed, he backed up and closed the clinic's front door.
Raymond got in and started the car. It moved slowly toward the driveway.
The sun escaped from under another cloud and shot its rays downward over the car, over the grounds, over the ocean, where the waves were now gentle, the whitecaps glimmering. Two terns lifted into the warm air and flew side by side, sweeping down together toward the sea, and then rose toward the sun as if it were a promise kept between them.
In moments, they were gone.