today to see Doris Bellman, but they tell me she passed in the night.’
The old man furiously shook his head – so furiously that Grace was almost afraid that it was going to fly right off his shoulders. ‘ Pass ? Doris Bellman didn’t pass . She was taken . It came for her, when the dark was at its darkest.’
‘ It being . . .?’
‘Who knows? Who knows what it is? But I swear to you on a roomful of Bibles, I saw it. Not face to face, no ma’am. Lucky for me that I didn’t, if you ask me. But it was disappearing around that corner and it was huge and it was black and it was all hunched over, and there were kind of jaggedy bits on top of its head.’
Grace thought: my God, that sounds just like Nathan’s nightmare about the sack-dragger . But then she thought: no, how could it ? Nathan had been dreaming about his mythical creatures, but who could tell what terrors this old man had been dreaming about? Nobody shares their nightmares, whatever Jung had said about all of us having a collective unconscious.
She looked at her watch. Time was ticking by, and she had a meeting with the hospital acquisitions board in less than three-quarters of an hour.
‘Listen,’ she said, ‘maybe we could talk about this some other time, when I’m not in so much of a hurry. Do you want to tell me your name?’
The old man narrowed his eye again. ‘You’re not going to snitch on me, are you? You’re not going to rat on me to those witches?’
‘Of course not. Why should I do that?’
The old man glanced along the corridor again, just to make sure that nobody was listening. Then he said, ‘Michael Dukakis’.
‘Michael Dukakis?’
‘That’s right. Michael Stanley Dukakis.’
‘Not by any chance the same Michael Stanley Dukakis who ran against George Bush in the 1988 presidential election?’
The old man grinned with pleasure. ‘That’s right! You recognized me! Not too many people do! It’s been a few years, though, hasn’t it? Quite a few years, you know, and time takes its toll.’
He suddenly stopped grinning, and looked reflective. ‘Should have beaten him, though, Bush. Should have licked him good and proper. Asshole. Him , I mean. Bush, not me.’
‘Well, OK, Michael,’ said Grace. ‘Next time I visit, I’ll ask for you, OK, and we can sit down and you can tell me all about this it that you saw.’
He seized her sleeve again and pulled her very close to him, so that when he spoke his spit prickled her face. ‘It was hunched over and it was black and it was all covered up in these raggedy sacks. And it had horns on top of its head. Or maybe a crown of sorts. And I prayed that it wouldn’t turn around and see me. I prayed, believe me. But lucky for me it didn’t. It disappeared. But I could still hear it.’
Grace took hold of his hand, trying to ease herself loose. His fingers felt like chicken’s leg bones.
‘It made this kind of shuffling sound,’ the old man told her. ‘Like it was tired, and old, and weary, but it wasn’t going to let nothing stop it, not for nothing.’
‘I really have to go,’ said Grace.
The old man abruptly released her. ‘Sure you do. Don’t want to waste your precious time, listening to me blather. What time are you going to bring the car around?’
‘I’ll come get you, I promise.’
The old man nodded, and noisily sucked his dentures. ‘Know what my father used to say? “If life was a bet, slick, I wouldn’t take it”.’
Grace left him and walked along to Doris Bellman’s room. She noticed that Mrs Bellman’s name had already been removed from the slot beside the door. She opened it and stepped inside.
The room was exactly as it had been the day before yesterday, except that Doris Bellman had gone. Her bed was still unmade, and her gray loose-weave shawl was lying on the floor beside it. A tumbler of water stood on the nightstand, with bubbles in it. Her little leather-covered travel clock had stopped at twelve after twelve.
The first
The old man furiously shook his head – so furiously that Grace was almost afraid that it was going to fly right off his shoulders. ‘ Pass ? Doris Bellman didn’t pass . She was taken . It came for her, when the dark was at its darkest.’
‘ It being . . .?’
‘Who knows? Who knows what it is? But I swear to you on a roomful of Bibles, I saw it. Not face to face, no ma’am. Lucky for me that I didn’t, if you ask me. But it was disappearing around that corner and it was huge and it was black and it was all hunched over, and there were kind of jaggedy bits on top of its head.’
Grace thought: my God, that sounds just like Nathan’s nightmare about the sack-dragger . But then she thought: no, how could it ? Nathan had been dreaming about his mythical creatures, but who could tell what terrors this old man had been dreaming about? Nobody shares their nightmares, whatever Jung had said about all of us having a collective unconscious.
She looked at her watch. Time was ticking by, and she had a meeting with the hospital acquisitions board in less than three-quarters of an hour.
‘Listen,’ she said, ‘maybe we could talk about this some other time, when I’m not in so much of a hurry. Do you want to tell me your name?’
The old man narrowed his eye again. ‘You’re not going to snitch on me, are you? You’re not going to rat on me to those witches?’
‘Of course not. Why should I do that?’
The old man glanced along the corridor again, just to make sure that nobody was listening. Then he said, ‘Michael Dukakis’.
‘Michael Dukakis?’
‘That’s right. Michael Stanley Dukakis.’
‘Not by any chance the same Michael Stanley Dukakis who ran against George Bush in the 1988 presidential election?’
The old man grinned with pleasure. ‘That’s right! You recognized me! Not too many people do! It’s been a few years, though, hasn’t it? Quite a few years, you know, and time takes its toll.’
He suddenly stopped grinning, and looked reflective. ‘Should have beaten him, though, Bush. Should have licked him good and proper. Asshole. Him , I mean. Bush, not me.’
‘Well, OK, Michael,’ said Grace. ‘Next time I visit, I’ll ask for you, OK, and we can sit down and you can tell me all about this it that you saw.’
He seized her sleeve again and pulled her very close to him, so that when he spoke his spit prickled her face. ‘It was hunched over and it was black and it was all covered up in these raggedy sacks. And it had horns on top of its head. Or maybe a crown of sorts. And I prayed that it wouldn’t turn around and see me. I prayed, believe me. But lucky for me it didn’t. It disappeared. But I could still hear it.’
Grace took hold of his hand, trying to ease herself loose. His fingers felt like chicken’s leg bones.
‘It made this kind of shuffling sound,’ the old man told her. ‘Like it was tired, and old, and weary, but it wasn’t going to let nothing stop it, not for nothing.’
‘I really have to go,’ said Grace.
The old man abruptly released her. ‘Sure you do. Don’t want to waste your precious time, listening to me blather. What time are you going to bring the car around?’
‘I’ll come get you, I promise.’
The old man nodded, and noisily sucked his dentures. ‘Know what my father used to say? “If life was a bet, slick, I wouldn’t take it”.’
Grace left him and walked along to Doris Bellman’s room. She noticed that Mrs Bellman’s name had already been removed from the slot beside the door. She opened it and stepped inside.
The room was exactly as it had been the day before yesterday, except that Doris Bellman had gone. Her bed was still unmade, and her gray loose-weave shawl was lying on the floor beside it. A tumbler of water stood on the nightstand, with bubbles in it. Her little leather-covered travel clock had stopped at twelve after twelve.
The first
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