The Ice Queen (15 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Hope

I

Renny’s family had brought a lawsuit
against Orlon University. Ever careful and prudent, the university protected itself, like a creature that could only think to sting. My brother’s research was gone. Someday someone else would collect similar information and would interview lightning victims, photograph them against a white wall, but that would be then. Not now. In the now that we lived in, everything went through the shredder and was turned to dust.

I had thought of a way to give my brother some of the life he wanted to live. Something that might please him, interest him, something to remember in the
ever after
. I asked Nina, and she agreed, so I phoned my brother at work. I hadn’t seen him or spoken to him since Nina had told me. My brother and I weren’t exactly used to the truth. So I dodged it a bit longer.

“Before they shred it, get the Dragon’s file,” I told Ned.

I had managed to gain a referral from Craven, my cardiologist, so that I could speak with the attending cardiologist in Jacksonville. When I asked about the Dragon, the cardiologist told me the old fellow came back stronger both times he’d been struck by lightning. He was an ox of a man who still walked ten miles a day.

“We ran tests on him. He said he was too old to give us more than one day to study him. Said it was a waste of time. According to the facts of his condition, he should have stayed dead. His heartbeat was less than ten beats a minute, slower than a bear in hibernation. He was eighty-seven years old when his second strike took place. He was knocked flat on his back and received so many volts it was immeasurable. Then he got up and had lunch. He refused all medical care, and as far as we know, he’s the healthiest old bastard in the state. Go figure.”

“You want me to steal his file?” my brother said now when I phoned him. “As in just take it?”

“Right now.”

Ned laughed; he seemed pleased at the idea of a small criminal act committed against the university.

“If I get caught, I’ll say you’re the mastermind.”

I was nervous about seeing Ned. I thought I’d say something stupid. Wouldn’t that be just like me. I figured a public place might be best; with people around, I might behave myself. I might not cry.

I met him at the diner in town for breakfast and he handed over the file.

“The Dragon’s an anomaly. One of a kind. Even if he’d talked to us, he would have done nothing for our study. He’s what people doing research call an ‘anecdote’ — a great story, but meaningless in the greater scheme of research. Just a lucky old bastard. And since there’s no longer a study, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Let’s go see him,” I said.

Ned had ordered a single scrambled egg and toast. He hadn’t even eaten half.

“We’ll be back by tonight,” I assured him.

“We never had anyone go out there and examine him. We can’t even be sure he’s still alive. Plus . . .” He played with his food. “Plus, I’m not feeling so great.”

“I asked Nina and she said you could go.”

“You asked Nina? What am I, five years old? Do I need permission?”

Leave it to me to say the wrong thing. I signaled the waitress and ordered rice pudding and tea. When I turned back, my brother was cleaning his glasses on his shirt. I saw that the skin under his eyes was scaly with rosy patches.

“She told you,” Ned said. He didn’t seem particularly angry, only disappointed.

“I sort of forced her to, Ned. I mean, I’m your sister. I should know if you’re ill.”

“Like I know about your life? Let’s face it, we don’t even know each other.”

“Ned,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t want it this way!” He really was angry. “No sorrowful ‘Ned.’ Don’t say it that way. No bullshit. No standing on the porch. I really couldn’t stomach that.”

Now I was pissed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not coming home, either. Don’t wait for me. Don’t think anything’s going to turn out differently. Don’t think there’s something you can do to prevent it. And for once in your life, don’t think it’s about you.”

I got up and went outside. The heat was crazy. I felt as though I were suffocating. Melting, but melting into what? I had wanted to give my brother a gift. Do something he’d been wanting to do. A single memorable day. Stupid, as usual. Mistake, naturally.

My brother had paid the bill and now he came outside. We didn’t look at each other. Finally Ned spoke. “Am I supposed to apologize for dying?”

“Yes. Apologize. How fucking dare you?”

I was too loud. My eyes were hot. I really might have been going crazy. I glared at him. I hated my brother. I thought if I was left behind again, I would break into pieces. I thought about how everything came too late.

My brother and I stood there in the heat. Pissed. Sweating. Older than we’d ever thought we’d be. This wasn’t our natural habitat. I wanted to rewind things. Maybe Ned did, too. He’d calmed down.

“I heard you helped paint the room for the baby,” he said. More neutral, cheerful territory, if it weren’t so tragic.

“I would have preferred red. I’m seeing some shades of it now.”

“Okay. I apologize,” my brother said. “It’s all my fault. Fuck me with my fucking goddamn cancer.”

Now he was the one to turn away. Ruin. The word I despised. It was happening to him.

“We’ll just have to turn you around, so Death isn’t standing at your feet. Then he won’t be able to take you.”

Ned laughed. He pulled himself together. Faced me again. Once you knew, you saw it. His face looked different. Thin. Tired.

“There’s no fooling that son of a bitch.” My brother shook his head, amused. “I love that story.”

“Why? It’s terrible.”

“It’s true.”

We both thought about that.

“Well, in the story Death is tricked.”

“Only twice, little sister. Then he gets what belongs to him.”

“The Dragon’s still alive and he tricked Death twice.”

“So, we’re off to see the Dragon. Is that why? Find out the tricks of the trade? It ain’t gonna work, baby girl.”

“We’re just going,” I said. “Think of it as a field trip.”

“You’re not the only one who knows a secret. Nina told me. You’ve got yourself a boyfriend.”

“Now we’re even,” I said.

Did I sound jaunty? Did I sound as though I could make it through the conversation?

“Yeah, you get to fall in love; I die. Very even.”

I thought that the people inside the diner were in a different universe, one where there was sustenance, hope, good health. The heat could wear a person out. Maybe there was nothing I could do for Ned. I was ready to back down. Then my brother turned to me.

“Your car or mine?”

“Seriously?”

“How many times do you get to see a dragon?”

It took two hours to get up north; I drove and Ned slept the whole time. Nina had told me he’d tried chemo when he’d first been diagnosed, but it had made him so sick he hadn’t been able to work; the doctors had agreed that the treatment was doing more harm than good. He was trying to last until January, when the baby would be born. It seemed unlikely that he would.

“Jesus, I’m drooling,” Ned said when he woke up.

We got to the outskirts of Jacksonville at noon. Hotter here. Impossible, but true. The air conditioner of my car started to sputter. Overworked, pissy. We pulled into a gas station and I got out to check the directions I’d gotten off the record from the cardiologist who’d treated the Dragon. I’d begged him, as a matter of fact. I told him I was a lightning-strike survivor who needed hope. He had no reason to disbelieve me.

There were several back roads we’d have to take and I worried that the ride was too bumpy for Ned.

Every once in a while I would look at him.

“Stop that. Just concentrate on driving. Fuck it,” he added when we went into a ditch. There was a trailer and a fellow sitting outside. “Pull over,” Ned said.

He got out and spoke with the elderly man in the lawn chair. It looked as if this fellow had the same lawn chair I had. Acres’ Hardware. I guess it was a statewide chain. Ned and the old man shook hands and spoke a few words, then Ned came back to the car. “Five miles up. But the Dragon won’t talk to us without an introduction, so says the gentleman in the lawn chair.”

“What does that asshole know?”

I noticed the fellow was locking his door, heading for our car.

“That asshole’s the Dragon’s son.”

“Hey,” our new companion said as he got in the backseat. “I’m Joe.” He was about seventy years old. Minimum. “I’ll take you to see my dad.”

“We never had a father,” Ned said as I got back to driving. “Well, we had one, but he took off.”

“Son of a bitch,” Joe said, sympathetic to our plight. “My dad is right up the road.”

“Now I’m dying and leaving my own kid before he’s born,” Ned said.

My throat was drying up. That kind of talk could make you cry; you had to concentrate and start counting right away, or you’d lose it.

“That’s different.” Joe had lit a cigarette; I kept my mouth shut, even though it would be weeks before I could get the stink out of my car. “That’s not abandonment. You don’t want to leave, so you’ll probably linger.”

“Linger?” Ned said.

“In spirit.”

Shut up, old man, I wanted to say. I strained to be polite. This was too difficult. This couldn’t be about Ned. “We don’t believe in that.”

Joe leaned forward. “What do you believe in?”

We thought that over until Joe shouted, “Pull over now!”

We did, and nearly got stuck in a meadow of saw grass. It was sloppy, muddy stuff, but I found a dry place to park. There was the Dragon’s house, a cottage that looked a little like mine. When I’d stopped at the gas station I’d bought chips and soda. A little refreshment. Joe went on ahead to make sure his father was presentable, then he stuck his head back out the door.

“Come on,” Joe said.

“You’re giving a ninety-year-old man soda pop and potato chips?” my brother said.

“Oh, shut up.” I grinned. God, it was hot. “What should I bring? Pablum?”

“What do you want to bet he has no air conditioner,” Ned said.

At least there was an overhead fan, but it seemed to be spinning in slow motion. The Dragon of Jacksonville didn’t look much older than his son. Pretty spry, actually.

“You tracked me down,” the Dragon said. “I hope you brought me something to make this visit worth my while.”

He was sitting in an easy chair made out of fake leather. A good-looking old man. Still had his hair, lots of it, white.

I held up the chips and pop, and the Dragon nodded, pleased. He suggested that Joe serve us all drinks with ice.

“What about you?” he said to my brother. Ned looked at me. He hadn’t thought to bring anything. “That’s a nice watch,” the Dragon said.

Ned smiled, unclasped it, and handed it over.

“Tells good time,” Ned said.

“There’s no time like the present,” the Dragon said.

It was a joke, so we laughed appreciatively. We had Coke with ice and sat on uncomfortable stools. It was sweltering. The Dragon pulled up his undershirt and showed us where the lightning had struck first.

“Dead for fourteen minutes and forty-five seconds,” Joe said proudly. “I timed him.”

Then Joe took off his father’s slippers and showed us the Dragon’s feet. They were curled up like hooves. “Arthritis,” Joe said. “Runs in the family.” He showed us the marks on the soles.

“The lightning hit a tree, ricocheted, went along the ground, and struck him dead for fifty-five minutes flat the second time.”

“What was it like?” I asked the Dragon.

“Funny thing. It was just like this,” the Dragon said. “Like sitting here with you. Soon you’ll go away. That’s what it was. One minute it was one thing, the next it was something else.”

“And how did you come back?”

Ned elbowed me. I suppose I was being rude. But there wasn’t much time, was there? That’s why we were here.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t have bought a plot in the cemetery the very next week. It was just a preview, not the whole show. I’m back because I’m back.” The Dragon took a gulp of soda pop. “Now I’d like to ask you something.

Maybe you know — is there a reason for everything?”

We all looked at my brother, the scientist, for an answer.

“Just because we don’t know it or understand it doesn’t mean there’s not a reason,” Ned said.

“There you go.” The Dragon was pleased with that response. “My sentiments exactly.”

He held out my brother’s watch. It was an old Rolex. Nina had gotten it for him on their tenth anniversary. It had cost a fortune and she had scoured antiques shops in Orlando till she found the right one.

“Want it back?”

Ned shook his head. “No time like the present,” he said.

“Then I’m going to show you a secret. You paid for it. You deserve it. Just don’t go telling your cronies. I’m not a sideshow.”