"Mamma love, I,m all right," he said. "I,m up at the house in Mendocino. I need to be there now. I just stopped in to tell you that I love you, and that you mustn,t worry - ."
"I need you to stay here now!" she demanded. She,d dropped her voice to a whisper, which she only did when she was near hysterical. "I,m not letting you leave here."
"I,m leaving here, Mamma. I want you to know that I,m okay."
"You,re not okay. Look at you. Listen to me, do you know what happened to every test they ran on you in the hospital? - everything, blood, urine, biopsies - it,s all gone, gone!" She mouthed the last word, but no sound came out. "Now, you are going to stay here, Reuben, and we are going to figure out how and why this is happening...."
"Impossible, Mamma."
"Reuben!" She was trembling. "I won,t let you go."
"You have to, Mom," he said. "Now, look into my eyes and listen to me. Listen to your son. I am doing the best I can. Yes, I know there have been psychological changes in me since this happened. And baffling hormonal changes as well. Yes. But you must trust me, Mother, that I am handling all this in the best way that I can. Now I know you,ve been talking to this doctor from Paris - ."
"Dr. Jaska," she said. She seemed just a little relieved that they were addressing the real questions. "Dr. Akim Jaska. The man,s an endocrinologist, a specialist in this very kind of thing."
"Yes, well, I know that. And I know he,s suggested a private hospital, Mother, and I know you want me to go to this place."
She didn,t commit herself. In fact, she seemed a little unsure.
"Well, you,ve been talking about it," he said. "I know that."
"Your father,s against it," she said. She was plainly thinking out loud. "He doesn,t like Jaska. He doesn,t like the whole idea."
She began to cry. It was just boiling over. She couldn,t help it. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "Reuben, I am frightened," she confessed.
"I know, Mom. So am I. But I want you to do what,s best for me, and what,s best for me is to leave me alone."
She broke away from him and backed up against the front door. "I,m not letting you go." Suddenly she bit into her lip. "Reuben, you,re writing rhapsodic prose about this werewolf, this monster that attacked you - and you don,t know what,s really going on!"
He couldn,t bear to see her like this. He moved towards her but she stiffened against the door as if she,d fight to the death before she,d let him go.
"Mom," he said softly.
"Reuben, this Man Wolf, this thing that,s killing people," she stammered. "The same thing is happening to every bit of forensic evidence they recover from the creature at the scene of every crime. Now, Reuben, this is the thing that attacked you, and it,s infected you with something powerful, something dangerous, something that,s working in your entire system...."
"What, Mother, you think I,m becoming a werewolf?" he asked.
"No, of course not," she said. "This lunatic isn,t a werewolf, that,s nonsense! But he,s insane, dangerously, hideously insane. And you are the only person attacked by this thing that has lived. And there,s something in your blood and tissues that can help them find this creature, but Reuben, we don,t know what this virus is doing to you."
Ah, so this is what she actually believed was going on. Of course. It made perfect sense.
"Baby Boy, I want to take you to the hospital - not this suspect place in Sausalito, just back to San Francisco General - ."
"Mamma," he said.
This was breaking his heart.
"I thought for a moment you thought I was the Man Wolf, Mamma," he said. He hated it, testing her like this, lying to her, but he couldn,t stop himself. He wanted to just take her in his arms, protect her from the truth, from everything. If only she weren,t Dr. Grace Golding.
"No, Reuben, I do not think you,re capable of scaling brick walls and flying over rooftops, and rending people apart limb from limb."
"That,s a relief," he said under his breath.
"But this creature, whoever he is, may be in the grip of a communicable madness, don,t you see? Reuben, please try to follow what I,m saying. Rabies is a communicable madness, do you follow me? You,ve been infected by something infinitely more dangerous than rabies, and I want you to go with me to the hospital now. Jaska says there have been other cases, with the very same extraordinary details. He says there is a real possibility of a corrosive virus."
"No, Mom, I can,t. I came here so you could see with your own eyes that I,m all right," he said. He was being as gentle as he could. "And now you,ve seen it, and I,m going. Please, Mom, move away from the door."
"All right, then stay here, in the house," she said. "No dashing off to the woods!" She threw up her hands.
"Mom, I can,t."
He moved her aside, handling her so roughly that he would never forgive himself for it, and was out the door before she could stop him, down the brick steps and down the street to his car.
She stood there in the doorway, and for the first time in his life he saw her as a tiny figure, a vulnerable figure, weak and frightened and overwhelmed - his beautiful mother who could save lives every day of her life.
Within a block of the house, he was in tears himself. By the time he reached the cafe where Laura was waiting, he was crying too hard to see. He gave the keys to her, and went around to the passenger seat.
"It,s over," he said as they headed for the freeway. "I,ll never be able to be part of them again, any of them. It,s over. God! What am I going to do?"
"You mean she knows."
"No. She knows things, and she can,t let go of those things. But no, she doesn,t really know. And I can,t tell her. I,d die before I,d tell her."
At some point, before they were even across the Golden Gate Bridge, he fell asleep.
When he woke, it was late afternoon and they had just turned off Highway 101 for the junction where they would pick up Nideck Road.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SIMON OLIVER,S E-MAIL WAS BRIEF. "Bad news which may be good news. Call me ASAP."
That had come yesterday evening.
He rang Oliver,s home phone, left a message - that he was back online and at his phone. Please call.
He and Laura had supper in the conservatory, at the new marble-top table. They were in a grove of banana palms and small ficus. And the sight of the orchid trees inclining towards each other, and dripping those gorgeous pinkish-purple blossoms, filled him with happiness.