Free The Fury and the Terror by John Farris Page A

frowned. "This is no time for the unguardin' of Eden."
    "Betts, I was wondering—" Riley rocked slowly, trying to focus through the soft haze the Flexeril had put in his brain. "Just how far Eden has progressed, the last few years."
    Betts paused in her pacing. "Why ask that now? You never wanted to know before."
    "Because I've always—I've only wanted her to be—"
    "Healthy, happy, well adjusted. Well, she is. Eden has turned out beautifully. No wrinkles in her psyche."
    "But she—I was scared today. I'm still scared."
    "Maybe it's time for some boozter fuel," Betts suggested. "Applejack, or a shot of Black?"
    "Not with Flexeril. Betts, there were two Edens at the stadium this morning."
    Betts looked at him, and away, at the ashy tip of the cigarette in her hand. She smiled tiredly. "That so?"
    The phone again. Riley said, "Shouldn't we answer? Eden may be trying to get in touch."
    "She'd page one of us; leave a number where she can be reached."
    "Aren't you worried about her?"
    "Geoff said she has his Taurus. You know Eden. When she's upset or has a problem she needs to think through, she grabs a set of wheels and goes. Needs her solitude. Eden must know we're okay. When she's ready, we'll hear from her."
    "Are those TV lunatics still camped at the end of our drive?"
    "Noose hounds on the loose. Kvetching in our vetch." Her hand was trembling; she dropped a cylinder of cigarette ash on the hardwood floor.
    Riley winced. "Did you hear me the first time? Just before that plane crashed, I saw two Edens. At different ends of the stadium, at the same time."
    Betts looked cautiously at him. "The mind plays tricks, Riley."
    "Tell me I'm nuts, why don't you?" he said angrily.
    "Oh, honey. I'm not telling you that." Betts sat on an arm of the rocker, put her arm across his shoulders. "It's a little difficult to explain. Maybe you truly don't want to know."
    Riley's face convulsed. Tears leaked from beneath tightly closed lids. "She's my baby . I love her so much."
    "You have to accept."
    "It's hard. So hard."
    "We knew from the beginning. The odds were heavily in favor of a supranormal child."
    With a wad of tissue Betts wiped his streaming cheeks.
    "Who have you told?" Riley asked.
    "You know better. Our deal was, we raise Eden with no interference. No financial help needed, or wanted. K has never violated those terms. Like you, K never wanted to know very much. Just the ordinary things. The baby pictures, the birthday parties, the bumps, bruises, and braces. She's been satisfied with tidbits, all these years."
    "In a little while, if she hasn't seen the news already, she'll be—"
    "Well, it was inevitable. I'll deal with K. We're still making the decisions. We go away for a little while. Have ourselves a good rest. Fletch Elstott can cover for, you, and as for my patients, well, I always take four weeks in the summer anyway. I'll just take them a little early, far from the hurly-burly."
    "Where—will we go?"
    "Greenwood. Not our place. John Hassler's sabbatical will keep him away until the end of June. I happen to know his lodge isn't rented for the month, so we'll take it. The keys are at Four-Star Realty. I think we can count on Chickie to keep her mouth shut as to our whereabouts. She owes me, anyway. Lord knows if I'd been billing her all these years for the kitchen-table therapy I've dished out gratis—"
    "You've always been a big softy."
    "This will all blow over. Memory is fragile and unreliable, particularly if there's trauma involved. Good cheer, m'dear. I'm going to sneak out the back way when the sun goes down, and make our arrangements. You need to apply wet heat where it's hurting."
    "Sneaking out of our own house," Riley said with a rueful grin. Then his face clouded again. "How does she do it? How is it possible that there could be two identical Edens?" His breathing was distressed. "I'm just a—I'm a horse doctor! The things of the mind, that you're so comfortable with—I can't