XLII

As they started down the road back to the campus, Steve began to doubt the wisdom of having waited until sundown to leave. Denied the mellowing rays of the sun, the earth snapped quickly out of its vernal interlude. It was more than a mere annoyance to bounce along on top of the newly frozen ruts chopping up the road. It was a real risk. Little canyons crisscrossed the hardening gravel and mud like a mad maze of railroad tracks all fouled up. To maneuver through them safely demanded unflagging concentration from Steve. For Cecilia, the ride home was the opposite of the ride out. It was pure agony for her to know what Steve was suffering for her sake. She had to hang onto him tightly just to prevent herself from being thrown off the cycle as it bounced and bucked along.

But there was one good thing about it: the glare was gone. Pain was no longer ramming itself into Steve’s skull from the outside; it was just a dull ache seeping out from behind his eyes. It comforted him to know that it was not going to last much longer. He could feel the swollen arteries in his head throbbing on the sensitive membranes that surrounded them, almost sluggishly now compared to the punishment they had taken earlier. It was like a dull venom in his head, numbing his senses. As he swerved through and around the ruts in the deepening darkness, the whole exercise took on the feel of an interminable nightmare.

He was grateful to feel Cecilia’s arms around his waist. They would get through this, and they would be happy again. Just knowing she was there made the struggle possible for him. He couldn’t give up!

The roadbed was getting harder. Picking his way across it, Steve would skid the cycle along in one rut and then have to hammer it across into the next one to avoid a hash of holes ahead. He tried the middle of the road, but that was no better. Many of the ruts there were on a diagonal as though someone had skillfully laid them out to ensnare motorcycles. He was not moving very fast, but the whole thing was steadily grinding his nerves to shreds.

Soon daylight faded away and his dim headlight was all he had to go by. He sank into a kind of trance, lurching from one near disaster to the next. He tried to banish all thoughts and mental images that might distract him from concentrating on his driving, and mostly he succeeded.

Finally Steve turned a corner and the lights of St. Mark came into view, less than a mile away. The roads would be better there.

“We’re almost home, my love. You’re amazing!” Cecilia shouted into his ear.

A few minutes later they were in town and the going was much smoother. The cycle turned onto Christiania Avenue. It was in excellent condition. The wheels bit into the road surface with smooth traction and they roared up the gentle incline all the way to the base of the hill. There the road curved to the right. Steve gunned the engine to get them up the steeper incline.

At that very moment the cycle struck a patch of ice where melting snow had run across the road during the day. It spun out of control, skittering wildly off the road. An ominous crash sounded sickeningly over the campus. Then, more sickening still, silence.

Minutes later an ambulance raced up to the scene from the hospital. A motorcycle carrying two passengers had skidded into the retaining wall above the power plant at high speed.

The male driver was rushed to the hospital.

The crumpled form of his passenger, a young woman, was gently gathered up and taken directly to the mortuary.

Even the mortician wept when he wiped the congealed blood from her face and beheld her lifeless beauty.