Knowing what we were going to do after Kyle went to bed kept Rikki and me pretty quiet during dinner, but it didn’t bother Kyle; he just munched and spilled stuff and chirped away as if the world was a good place. After we finished eating, I took him upstairs for his bubble bath and read him Ernie Gets Lost while he splashed around in the tub having a grand time. I read the simple story and watched Kyle play and secretly wished I could be enveloped by his innocent joy, could peel off my cloak of fear and misery and float carefree among the glorious bubbles for just a minute, knowing I was safe, that everything was all right. But it was just a dying wish into an empty well; that cloak was on me good, and it was going to be three long years before even one button came undone.
Before long, Ernie got found, Rikki finished in the kitchen, and Kyle got rinsed, dried, and tucked in, the way a kid ought to be. Inside of three minutes he was asleep, twitching like Elvis and dreaming about two-foot candy bars. Lucky him.
Rikki and I turned out the hall light and went nervously downstairs, not really knowing what to expect. We made some tea and sat down in the living room by the huge stone fireplace. The heater was humming pleasantly, and the pottery table lamps cast a glow like sunset around the room, giving it the cheery feel of a ski chalet. If we didn’t know about all the bizarre things that had been going on lately, we might have figured Sven the ski instructor was going to come knocking on the door any minute to tell us the Warren Miller movies were starting. Well, Sven wasn’t coming. And there weren’t any movies. There was just Rikki and me ... and maybe Per.
Rikki looked deeply into my eyes. “Per?” she said tentatively. “Can I speak with Per?”
Instantly, shudder, switch, and I was gone and Per was there. A strange warm calm filled my body as I felt him assume control.
Per looked at Rikki and smiled pleasantly. “Hello,” he said. Per’s soothing voice sounded curiously familiar in the room. It was the first time I’d heard it outside of my head.
Rikki studied him. “Hello,” she said cautiously. “Are you Per?”
“I am,” he said in a velvety tone.
“Do you know who I am?”
He smiled at her. “Are you Rikki?”
“Yes,” she said, eyeing him closely.
“This is Cam’s house and you are his wife,” Per said.
“That’s right,” she nodded, puzzled. This was not her husband. And this clearly wasn’t Davy. This was someone else. Someone totally calm and clear-headed. Someone different.
“I’m nervous,” Rikki admitted. “I ... I don’t know what to say to you.” She thought for a second. “Ah ... how long have you been there?”
Per rubbed his chin, thinking, and the corner of his mouth curled into an introspective smile. “Hmm,” he said, “I’m not sure. A long time, I think.”
“How old are you?” She asked, somehow comforted by his gentle and pleasing tone.
“Older than Cam,” he said.
“Cam said you have Ben Franklin glasses and sit at a desk.”
Per reached up and touched the rim of my glasses. “I wear these,” he said.
Rikki took a sip of her tea. “Do you know Davy?” she asked.
Per frowned. “I know who Davy is,” he said heavily, shaking his head. “It’s very sad.”
Rikki turned her whole body toward Per and looked at him closely, concentrating. A little groove formed between her eyebrows. “Who are you?”
Per remained relaxed. “I ... don’t ... know, exactly,” he said. “I know I’m in this body. I know this is Cam’s body. I know there are others.” His gaze slowly arced around the room, finally resting on Rikki.
“It’s strange to be out here,” Per said, gesturing loosely at the room with his right hand. He tapped his chest. “I’m used to being in here.”
Rikki focused on him intensely, chewing a little on her lower lip, a dozen questions jockeying for position. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She put her tea down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, massaging her temples, agitated, wondering where to start.
“I need to know some things, Per, like what do you do in there? And why are you here? And where did you come from?” Per sat placidly, hands folded in his lap, his eyes soft, his face alert.
“I don’t blame you for being upset,” he said, looking at her kindly. “I don’t know where I came from. I watch over things, Rikki ... over Cam and the others. I watch over the little ones.”
Rikki snapped, “What little ones?” then caught herself. “Sorry. What little ones?” she repeated more softly.
“Bad things have happened, Rikki,” Per said seriously.
“What bad things? You mean like Davy and what happened to him with his grandmother?”
“Yes. Very bad things. But we shouldn’t speak of that now, with sleep and dreams approaching.”
“I don’t understand, Per,” Rikki said.
“You will, Rikki,” Per said. “You’ll meet the others. They’ll come out to see you. The door has been opened. It’s safe to speak. I’ll go now ... you can call for me anytime. Be brave, Rikki. He needs you more than ever now. They all need you.”
And with that, I felt myself pulled to the front of my mind, Per and I passing like two travelers moving in opposite directions on an automated walkway. I shook my head to clear it and looked at Rikki, who was staring at me with her mouth open, her head shaking slowly.
“Unbelievable,” she whispered hoarsely. “Do you have any idea what just happened? Did you hear any of that?”
“Sort of,” I said, rubbing my neck. “Like eavesdropping on a conversation two booths down in a diner.” I looked into Rikki’s deep blue eyes and saw the confusion there. A ripple of anxiety shuddered through me. What if Rikki thinks I’m nuts. What if she bails on me. I’ll die without her. I can’t do this alone.
Rikki clasped her hands together tightly in her lap. “Per told me there were others,” she said. “Other little ones. He said that bad things happened. Did you hear that? Do you know what he means by that?”
“I don’t know for sure,” I said. “It’s the voices—and I see vague images of others. No names. Just outlines of shadows—just faces. I don’t know, honey.” I leaned back on the sofa, covering my eyes with my arm. “I’m so tired, Rik. My mind hurts.”
Rikki touched me lightly on the arm.
“Let’s go to bed,” she said. “That’s enough for one night.” She gently pulled my arm away from my eyes and touched my cheek. I felt myself begin to disappear into her fingertips. She stood, took my hand, and helped me to my feet. She wrapped my arm around her shoulders and put her arm around my waist. Leaning heavily on each other, we trudged wearily up the stairs to bed.