“Oh God,” Tammy said softly. “Life used to be so simple.”
“Are you having a hard time?” Jerry said.
“Yeah. I guess. No, what am I saying? I’m having a horrible time. Really bad dreams.”
“Is that it? Dreams? Or is there more?”
She thought about her reply for a moment, wondering if she should share the problems she’d been having, with him. But what was the point? Though they’d been through hell together she didn’t really know him all that well. How did she know he wasn’t planning to write a book too? So she said: “You know all things considered, I’m doing just fine.”
“Well that’s good,” Jerry said, sounding genuinely pleased. “Have the reporters stopped bothering you?”
“Oh I still get the occasional journalist on the doorstep, but I had one of those little spy-hole things put in the door, and if I think he looks like a reporter than I just don’t open the door.”
“Just as long as you’re not a prisoner in your own house.”
“Oh Lord, no,” she lied.
“Good.”
“Well … I should let you go. I’ve got a thousand — ”
“One other thing.”
“Yes.”
“This is going to sound a little wacko.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“But I wanted to tell you about it. Just … for old times’ sake, I suppose.”
“I’m listening.”
“You know we never really discussed what happened to us in the house.”
“No. Well I figured we all knew — ”
“I didn’t really mean what happened to everybody. I meant you and me, down in that room. You know that there was a lot of power in those tiles. Visiting the Devil’s Country kept Katya looking perfect all those years … ”
“What are you getting to?”
“As I said, it’s going to sound wacko, but I guess we’re both used to that by now, yes?” He took a deep breath. “You see, I had prostate cancer; inoperable. The doctors gave me nine months to a year to live. That was December of last year. Christmas Eve, actually.”
“God, Jerry, I’m so sorry.”
“No, Tammy, you’re not listening. I said, I had a tumor.”
“What?”
“It’s gone.”
“Completely?”
“Every detectable trace. Gone. The doctors can’t believe it. They’ve done the scan five times to be absolutely sure. And now – finally — they are absolutely sure. Jerry Brahms’ brain tumor has disappeared, and according to them that simply can’t happen. Ever.”
“But it has.”
“It has.”
“And you think it’s got something to do with us being in the room?”
“Put it this way: I went into that house with a malignant tumor, and when I came out again the tumor had gone. What can you say about a thing like that? It’s either a coincidence or it’s a miracle.”
“And you think it’s a miracle?”
“You know what?” He paused. “Now I am going to sound wacko, but I prefer to think of it as Katya’s last present to me.”
“She didn’t seem the gift-giving type.”
“You only saw the darkness, Tammy. There was another side to her. I think there always is, don’t you? There’s always some light in the darkness, somewhere.”
“Is there?” Tammy replied. “I guess I’m still looking.”
FOUR
Tammy desperately wanted to believe that she had indeed profited somehow from the madness-inducing journey she’d taken through the wilds of Coldheart Canyon. She didn’t need anything as monumental as Jerry’s healed tumor; just some modest sign to prove to her that, despite all the death and the suffering she’d witnessed, some palpable good had come of it.
Every waking hour her thoughts circled on what she’d experienced, looking for some sign of hope. Not miracles, just hope. A light in the darkness; a reason to live. But the more she searched, the more absurd the search seemed to be.
Common sense told her she should venture out into the world and start trying to live a normal life again. Perhaps if she joined a couple of women’s clubs, or maybe even tried to find herself a lover-anything to change her focus; get her out of her head and back into a normal way of thinking. But she always found some reason to put off anything too adventurous. It was almost as though she’d used up her capacity for adventure during her time in the Canyon. Her trips into the dangerous territory over her front door step became briefer and briefer by the way. She started to get panicky when she got into her car, and the panic escalated so quickly that by the time she got to the end of the block she often had to turn round and head straight back home again. Going to the market had become impossible; she took to ordering essential food-stuffs by phone, and when the supplies arrived she’d make the exchange with the delivery guy as short as possible. She’d just take the stuff, pass over the money, and close the door, often not even waiting for the change.