"Did you see the blood before you got him home?"
"No."
"But the light in Joe's room was on, right?"
"Yeah, but weak, like I said. And the ceiling fan, chopping it into spokes. But the blood was nothing, Charlie, less than a drop. That isn't the point. The point is the whole way Leftwich pried into Sean's life. And kind of… what… pointed Sean in a new direction. Changed him. He woke up a new man. I'm not saying the new direction wasn't good. I know the priest meant well. But he drinks Sean under the table with his secret concoction and watches him sleep and plays with his toes. The whole thing just basically gave me the creeps."
"What did the priest look like?"
"Short side, muscular. Black hair and blue eyes. From Dublin. Had the accent. The drunker he got, the stronger the accent. He had… what-charisma? Force of character? Sean hasn't been the same man since he crashed out that night. He woke up filled with optimism about his work, and us, and having a family someday soon. That was all good. But after it wore off, then all the things that he wrote in the e-mails started up. All the pain and the aches and the insomnia and hyperactivity. All his crazy talk about being chosen to do a mission, that someone or something was guiding him. All the… Just everything. Then, what you say he did down in Buenavista. That was not my husband. That could not have been Sean."
"It was but it wasn't."
Seliah swirled the wine and drank. "And I have to admit, Charlie, I've been feeling the same way. The same… wrongness. The same strangeness. I can't…"
"What?"
"Explain it any better to you."
"You don't have to."
"Like what I said to Janet. I don't say things like that. I don't think things like that."
Seliah finished the wine and ordered another bottle. They ate the clams and ordered dinner. The sun set in a red-black sky and fell out of sight. Seliah took off her sunglasses and Hood saw that even in this soft darkness her pupils were closed down hard against the light. She excused herself, slinging her little bag over her shoulder and navigating between the tables. An older woman at the adjacent table gave Hood a disapproving look. Seliah was back a few minutes later. She ate quickly-her swordfish, all of the bread, dessert-and drank most of the second bottle of wine.
"We'll get through this, Seliah. We'll get him back."
"Then what?"
"I don't know what."
"If what you say happened really happened, then I won't see him for a good long while."
"It's up to us. When we know the whole story, things will make sense."
"I believe that, Charlie. I believe things will make sense and that Sean and I have a future."
Hood reached out and put his hand on hers and felt the startling heat.
Later he drove her home and walked her to the door.
"Let's see what Sean wrote," she said.
"Good."
23
Inside she leaned over the laptop and tapped the keyboard. "Excuse me, Charlie."
He heard the bedroom door shut. He sat and watched the in-box fill on the computer screen. A few minutes later she came out wearing a long, cobalt, satin bathrobe. The sash was tight to her waist and the lapels framed her breasts. Her eyes were darkened by new makeup and her lipstick was fresh. She gave him an embarrassed glance.
"Glass of wine?" she asked.
"I'm fine, Seliah. You go ahead."
She was back a moment later with an oversize goblet half-full. She smiled and sat down close to him on the couch. Hood was unhappily aroused. She reached across him and deleted a few messages, then opened the one from Sean. She took a long drink of the wine, then put the glass on the coffee table and set her hand on Hood's knee. From: Sean Gravas [sGravas23@zephyr.net] Sent: Wednesday, October 19, 2011 9:19 p.m. To: Gravas, Seliah Subject: end of faith Dear Seliah, Tearing up my Bible was a terrible thing. I'm still exhausted by it. It must sound like some kind of symbolic destruction but it wasn't. It was REAL and genuine destruction. I felt a piece of my soul leaving with each page I yanked out. When I saw what happened to Juan Batista I felt personally fooled and betrayed. He was a good man. So was I. AM. I'm moving toward the ACCOMPLISHMENT of the MISSION. Or at least toward the opportunity to accomplish it. If I sound doubtful now instead of optimistic it is only because I AM. I once thought that God led us to the brink of things, to the very edge of the cliff, and helped us do what was best. But now I see that WE lead ourselves to our own cliffs and heights and WE decide what is best.
We are free to be brave and free to be terrified and I am BOTH.
All of this GREAT JOURNEY will lead me back to you. When I'm finished we'll be together. We'll resume our life and begin our FAMILY. We will be THREE then more.
I ache for your touch. I want to be welcomed back into the vast universe of your heart and the warm mystery of your flesh. Your Shooting Star, Sean
Hood felt Seliah's hand tighten on his knee. Surprisingly strong. He heard the rough rumble of her breathing, then a catlike purr from deep inside her. She looked at him and the tears rolled down her cheeks. Her pupils were tiny and there were small beads of perspiration along her upper lip. She turned back to the screen and stared at it, breathing slowly. Hood felt her hand trembling on him. Time passed but the trembling did not. Then Seliah placed her free hand over the hand on Hood's knee, pulled it away and stood.
She was in the bathroom a long time. Then the bedroom. She came out wearing a red silk tank that covered her to mid-thigh and that was apparently all. Her body was damp and lotioned. Her makeup was fresh, her blue eyes set in darkness. Her platinum curtain of hair swayed as she flicked off the living room lights and sat down next to him again, the smell of her surrounding him. He could hear the deep rumble down in her chest again-a catlike purr or the rattle of mucous-he couldn't tell. She leaned into him and put her nose to his ear. Rattle. Purr.
Utterly flummoxed, Hood stood and walked into the dimly lit kitchen and looked back at her. She stared at him for a long moment, almost dreamily, then strode over. She lifted his hand to her lips and watched his eyes while she kissed it. Then she stepped into him and put her arms around him and raised her mouth to his. Hood felt the heat of her breath and the weight of her body and his own swift reaction. He unwrapped her arms and held her at arm's length and tried to read her face in the half-light. Gradually Seliah's dreamy expression became a small smile and she tried to embrace him again but Hood held her away. She was very strong and Hood stumbled and she let him overcorrect and it seemed that she was playing with him. She pulled him in closer without effort, as if he were a toy, and looked at him with an expression unreadable to him. He moved her away and felt the unlikely strength of her arms. She bit at him, her teeth clicking together. She laughed. The laugh ended and the smile departed, and Seliah looked down at herself. She easily broke free of his grip and ran from the kitchen into the bedroom and slammed the door.
Hood stood there in the kitchen with his heart pounding, wondering what to do. His standard default options seemed pointless. He felt as if he'd been led to the edge of chaos and was being asked to jump into it. The water in the master bath went on. He went to the bedroom door and listened.
Then back to the living room. He sat in front of the laptop and rubbed his hands down his face. He looked at her wineglass, empty. She'd had a beer and a bottle and a half of wine with dinner. Another big glass here. But alcohol didn't account for this, just another explanation rendered pointless by Seliah Ozburn.
When she had been gone ten minutes Hood went again to the bedroom door and listened. The water was no longer running.
"Seliah? Seliah?"
The knob turned in his hand and Hood pushed open the door. The room was dark but the light was on in the master bath. She was talking to herself.