Free A Twist of Orchids by Michelle Wan Page B

kitchen and brought it to Jacqueline.
    “There,
mon vieux
,” said the nurse. “Get that on your feet. Like blocks of ice, they are.”
    It took Joseph almost forty minutes to recover sufficiently to tell them what had happened. His voice came out in a barely audible croak.
    “She was beating on the windows. Trying to get in. Then the lights went out. She came in through the back, right into the room.”
    “She, who?” Mara looked askance at Jacqueline and Julian. “What’s he talking about? Was someone trying to break in?”
    “Amélie.” Joseph’s voice broke into a quavering sob. “She was here. She stood over me, big and black, like a tree.” The corners of his mouth pulled down, the muscles of his throat working spasmodically. He might have been crying, but no tears came out. His eyes looked as dry, as red, as flayed as ever. “She said, ‘You have to die, Joseph.’ She wanted me to join her, you see. I told her, ‘I’m not ready to go.’ I said, ‘Leave me alone.’ Then”—his trembling fingers danced on top of the covers as he relived his terror—“she put a pillow over my face. I tried to fight her off. But she was too strong for me. And—and she had no head.
Mon Dieu
, only a big black hole!”
    Jacqueline said briskly, “You had a nightmare, Joseph. A bad dream. None of this really happened.”
    “I swear it’s true,” he moaned, and his entire body shook in his agitation. “She was here. I felt her. I heard her breathing. Her hands were big. And—and …” He struggled to find the words. His extreme mental effort was visible in the way his head writhed, his mouth twisted.
    “And what, Joseph?” Mara leaned forward to hear him.
    “Her skin … was loose and rubbery.”
    Big hands and loose, rubbery skin? Mara raised doubtful eyes to Jacqueline. The nurse’s mouth pursed skeptically. But Joseph was staring at Mara piteously, needing to be believed.
    “What happened then?” she asked, taking his hands in hers.
    “She went away. She just went away. I heard her go out. But I was afraid she’d come back. I got out of bed. I kept bumping into things and falling down. The lights were out, you see. So I crawled. I crawled into the closet under the stairs and hid there. I hoped she wouldn’t find me. Because she can break down walls, you know. She’s done it before.”
    He lay back exhausted. Just before he fell into a deep sleep, he mumbled, “Don’t let her come for me.”
    They left him. In the kitchen, Jacqueline made a strong brew of coffee. The three of them sat drinking it at a scarred wooden table.
    The nurse shook her head. “Nightmares and hallucinations. His drugs bring them on, make it hard for him to separate fact from fantasy. He’s had a bad few hours, but he’ll be fine. In fact, it’s actually a good sign that he fought Amélie off in his dream. It means he’s not ready to give up living. I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t remember a thing about this when he wakes up.”
    Mara said, “But you don’t suppose someone really did comein? He and Amélie never locked their back door, you know. Amélie used to say a locked door kept only friends out.”
    Jacqueline said, “But the back door
was
locked. I had to unlock it when I went outside to look for him.” She drained her cup. “Well, no real harm’s been done,
grâce à Dieu.
But one never knows … what with those housebreakers about.” She poked her chin in Julian’s direction. “What did you tell him, Monsieur Rafaillac?”
    “That we couldn’t find Joseph, of course.”
    Jacqueline pulled a mouth. “I wish you hadn’t. Now it’ll be all over the place.”
    “The others will find out about it anyway,” said Mara. “You know how word gets round. How much longer do you think it will be before he gets home care?”
    Jacqueline shrugged. “These things take time. Especially out here in the boondocks.” She said it with a little sniff. “I just don’t want those O’Connors to hear about