TIES THAT BIND

by Karen Morgia

It had been three days, three long anxious days and nights andFather had not budged from Vincent’s side. Mary would peak infrom time to time in a futile attempt to get Father to sleep or eat,but on those rare occasions when he did leave, Vincent would toss andturn, moaning and growling in his delirium. Whatever it was thatafflicted Vincent, had struck quickly and without warning.

To complicate matters, no one had been able to locate Catherine.All attempts to find her, to inform her of Vincent’s illness,had proven to be in vain.

A Helper was finally able to contact Peter Alcott, who promised toreach Catherine’s friends. It was imperative she be notifiedimmediately of Vincent’s predicament and Father’s desperateneed for her presence. The one coherent word spoken by Vincent sincethe onset of his mysterious ailment had been Catherine’sname.

Mr. Maxwell?"

The voice which disturbed Joe’s concentration, sounded tenseand vaguely familiar. Marking his place in the brief before him, Joeraised tired eyes to meet the worried countenance of Dr. PeterAlcott, physician and friend of Catherine Chandler. Joe’s facelip up at the interruption, anything to break the monotony of anotherlate night alone in the office.

"Doctor. Alcott, this is a pleasant surprise. What can I do foryou?" At the realization that it was quite late for visitors,Joe’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. "How did you know I was here,Doctor?"

"I called your apartment first, Mr. Maxwell; when no one answered,I remembered Cathy telling me that you were putting in late hoursworking on a very sensitive court case. I simply took the chance thatyou would be here. I convinced the watchman on duty down in the lobbythat you and I had a late appointment." What Peter convenientlyforgot to mention was that the night watchman on duty just happenedto be a Helper.

"You went through quite a bit of trouble to find me, Doctor.Whatever you need must be very important."

"It is, Mr. Maxwell…it is." Peter pulled a chair next toJoe’s desk and sat down heavily, worry lines clearly etchedacross his brow. Before beginning his explanation, he drew a wearyhand across his face. "Mr. Maxwell…"

"Joe, please."

Peter tried to smile, but it came out a pained grimace."Joe…I believe something has happened to Cathy. We’ve beentrying to reach her for three days and no one seems to have seen hersince Friday. Have you heard from her? Do you know where she is? Itis imperative that I contact her…it is, quite literally, amatter of life or death."

Joe leaned back in his chair. "What would lead you to believe thatI might know where she is, Doctor?"

"Please, Joe…let’s not play games. This concerns thelife of someone very dear to Catherine. I am convinced that if shewere able, she would be here for him. Without her, he may die and Ishudder to think what that would do to Cathy. Where is she?"

Joe got up from his chair and turned from his anxious visitor togaze thoughtfully out the window behind his desk. It was many minutesbefore he spoke, his back still turned to Doctor Alcott. He ran onehand nervously through his thick, curly, brown hair. "I don’tknow, Doctor. She was supposed to check in two days ago; she neverdid." Joe turned around. "I’m just as worried as you."

"You said she was to check in…from where? She never even letanyone know she was leaving town. She would have said something toVin…: Peter stopped himself before saying the namecompletely.

"You mean ‘Vincent’?" Joe asked.

Peter looked startled at hearing Joe speak Vincent’s name.How did Joe know about Vincent?

"How did you know….?" Peter began.

"….about Vincent?" Joe finished. "WhenCathy…died…after that Gabriel incident two years ago, I hadDiana Bennett placed on the case. She is a very thoroughinvestigator, Doctor. She found hints all over Cathy’s apartmentand traces of this mysterious Vincent in some papers we found. Theonly problem was, we could never find a trace of him. Then,when Cathy finally surfaced, the first thing she did was vanish againonly to turn up two weeks later wearing a great big grin and awedding band. Oh, she tried to pass it off, but I could tell she wasin love…deeply in love." Joe turned pained eyes at Peter; thelove he felt for Catherine still a sensitive issue. "Yeah, I loveher, too, Doc…still. Anyway, she told me his name…Vincent.Is that what this is all about? Has something happened to him?"

Peter considered his next words carefully before answering."Yes… physically, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrongwith him, yet he lies near death. I don’t know how much Cathyhas told you, Joe." Peter turned away. Nervous, he chose his wordsvery carefully, "Cathy trusts you, so I’m going to have to trustyou, too. Cathy and Vincent share an almost magical empathic bond.This is very difficult to explain…but whenever Cathy is sad, inpain, or in danger, Vincent knows and feels it as well…is ableto be there for her." Looking intently at Joe’s quizzicalexpression, Peter continued haltingly. "He has saved her life onnumerous occasions."

Joe turned his head slowly, his expression unreadable. "I knewthere had to be a logical explanation." Seeing Peter’s anxiousexpression, Joe shook his head. "Never mind, Doctor.Please…continue."

As Peter continued his story, Joe paid only partial attention tothe doctor’s words. The rest of his concentration was involvedin tallying the number of times Cathy’s life had been injeopardy and the almost miraculous way she had of emerging unscathed.Now, there was a reason that his logical mind could comprehend, butwith the knowledge came the realization that apparently Cathy’shusband had been responsible for a number of unexplained deaths overthe years. What kind of a man was he that he could slash and maulsomeone to death? Only one thing remained of any consequence,however, Cathy’s well-being; his feelings for her had not, andwould not, change simply by knowing that she was the focal point ofsuch violence.

There were questions that she would have to answer, but they werebest left to another time. He cared for Cathy too much to throw herto the proverbial wolves. Her career as a top-notch investigator, aswell as her freedom, hinged on keeping her secret. He would neverbetray the trust Dr. Alcott had just imparted. The main reason forthe doctor’s visit remained, however…where was CathyChandler?

Hot! So hot! "Please…water." Oh, it was so hot!

The woman tossed and turned weakly in her delirium, in an attemptto free her inflamed body from the tortuous cocoon of bed linen.Hurts! It hurts! Every finger-light touch, each gentle caress of thesheets sent rivers of fire coursing through her body; each weakeningmovement created more agony. In a feeble attempt to free herself, hertormented mind ordered muscles to move, to push the offendingmaterial away in a desperate effort for respite from the discomfort,but even this movement brought a new agony as joints, swollen andinflamed from the poison coursing through her system, screamed theirrefusal to move. No position brought relief from the ache in herjoints or from the simple caress of bed linen upon her inflamed skin.The pain and discomfort seemed to have a life of their own, trappingher within their malevolent clutches. No matter that sheunconsciously endeavored to free herself from the entrapment, weaklytried to kick the offending items away from her body; solicitoushands would once more cover her nakedness, the deceptive coolness ofthe soft, white sheets bringing no easing from the constant tormentwhich afflicted her.

"Doctor, she’s getting worse. Isn’t there some way wecan help her…even it it’s only to notify her family?" Thegray-haired woman, dressed in hospital whites, placed a soothing handupon the patient’s tormented brow, an action which momentarilycalmed the woman’s frantic tossing.

"Vincent," pleaded a weak voice.

"Did you say something, Nurse?" Dr. Jameson looked up from themedical chart in which he as making notations. The Chief of InternalMedicine at Good Samaritan Medical Center in Phoenix, carefully heldthe metal flip chart before him like a shield.

"No, sir….she did…she spoke a name…Vincent. Do youthink that may be her husband’s name? She was wearing a weddingband when she was found, wasn’t she?"

Again, a beloved name was spoken, "Vincent," and once again it wasbarely audible to the two medical personnel present.

"Yes, I believe she was," the doctor stated. "Too bad she had noother identification on her; we would be able to notify someone." Hedouble checked the instructions he had just written on the medicalchart and flipped it closed, replacing his pen within the breastpocket of his white lab coat.

"Nurse Morales? Why don’t you contact thatdetective…Garcia, I believe his name was. Perhaps he can addthis piece of information to what he’s already been able topiece together about our mysterious "Jane Doe". Perhaps, the name"Vincent" can help him find out who she is and where she’sfrom."

"Yes, Doctor, right away." Nurse Morales once more adjusted thebed clothes covering her patient and left the room shaking her headin consternation, wondering why no one had come searching for thebeautiful, sad, dreadfully ill woman in room 402.

The worried expression on Peter Alcott’s face held no solacefor Father’s worry.

"Mr. Maxwell knows where she is supposed to be, Jacob, buthe’s not heard from her. She was scheduled to check in with himSaturday from a small town in Arizona called Indian Pines, butthere’s been no word. It seems she went out there to try toconvince a witness to testify. Apparently, they need his testimonyand he wasn’t being cooperative. With Cathy’s ability toget witnesses to come forward, they thought she might be able toconvince him. She checked in with Joe when she arrived in Phoenix,but since then…nothing. She never showed up for her appointmentwith the witness, either, and that’s not like Cathy."

The two friends talked softly so as not to disturb the individualsleeping fitfully on the bed not far from them. Father still refusedto move from Vincent’s side for long.

"Peter, we must find her. I am very much afraid that since theyare connected by this bond they share, not only is Vincent’slife in grave danger, but Catherine’s as well. I have examinedhim thoroughly and there is no medical reason for thisailment…this malady that has afflicted him. I can only assumethat whatever is causing this reaction in him has happened toCatherine and that it is she who is gravely ill." His worried gazewas drawn toward the agitated, fitful sleep of the man lying neardeath. "I am very much afraid that if Catherine dies, so willVincent."

"Jacob, I think I’d better visit Diana; maybe she can dig upa lead on Cathy. We must find her, for both their sakes." Peter,rising from his chair, placed a sympathetic hand on his friend’sshoulder, then turned to leave the chamber. His exit was blocked,however, by the very person they had just been discussing.

"Diana!" Peter exclaimed, throwing an astonished glance over hisshoulder at Father. "We were just talking about you."

"I just got back into town," she explained tersely. "How long hashe been like this?"

Father turned to look at her, his grey eyes dark with anxiety."Three days." The fear he felt for his son’s life caused hisvoice to catch with unshed tears.

"Where’s Cathy?" she demanded, crossing the room to setbeside Vincent’s delirious body. She grasped his fevered handtightly, as if her mere presence could call him back from theprecipice on which his life teetered.

"We don’t know," Peter answered. "Joe was supposed to hearfrom her two days ago. There’s been no word from her."

Diana nodded silently and closed her eyes as she placed a hand onVincent’s fevered brow and opened her perception to what he wasexperiencing.

In his fevered, unconscious state, Vincent had no control ofhimself… his feelings. Diana cried out and nearly collapsed ashis raw, unrestrained emotions bombarded her mind and heart.

"It’s Cathy, isn’t it?" she asked, after taking a deep,strengthening, shake breath.

Father nodded. "We believe so, yes. We must find her, Diana, forboth their sakes…will you help?" he pleaded.

"You bet! But were do I start looking? Have you talked to Maxwell?Does he know anything?"

"Do you mean you haven’t seen him?" Peter turned anastonished glance at an equally astonished Father. They had bothassumed Diana had found out about Vincent’s illness fromJoe.

"No, I came straight from the airport. In fact, my luggage isstill there. I didn’t even stop to pick it up. I came here asfast as I could."

"But, how…?" Father began.

Diana merely nodded her head in Vincent’s direction. "Hecalled me."

Both men turned to gaze, amazedly, at the figure lying on thebed.

"Father, would it be possible for someone to pick up my luggagefor me and bring it Below? I don’t want to leave him just yet.If I can touch his mind, perhaps I can follow the link back toCathy."

"Hot! So hot! Water…," Vincent pleaded faintly. "It’s sohot!" He thrashed about weakly in a vain attempt to free himself ofthe enveloping quilts wrapped around him.

Diana immediately pressed a water-laden cloth to his fever-swollenlips, and her presence calmed him somewhat.

Vincent opened his eyes briefly. No long a vibrant, clearsky-blue, his gaze was pain-filled, his eyes a lack-luster gray.

"Catherine?" he inquired, in a husky whisper.

"No, Vincent. It’s Diana."

He moaned in desperation and pain, and closed his eyes, once againlost in the maelstrom of Catherine’s agony.

"Nurse Morales, I want you to continue with the alcohol rubs. Wemust bring this fever down." Doctor Jameson made a note on thepatient’s chart.

"I know, Doctor. Her fever was 105° when I checkedit…half an hour ago. She’s not going to make it, is she?"the nurse asked, shaking her head sadly.

"I don’t know, Linda…I just don’t know. The nexttwelve hours should tell. If she can just make it through anothernight…," his voice tailed off as he ran a worried hand acrosshis thinning pate. "If she does, she will owe her life to yourconscientious care. Be sure to call me the minute there is anychange."

"Yes, Doctor."

"Bennett, we may have found something!" Joe’s strident voicebroke through Diana’s cotton-filled, sleep-laden brain. It was3:30 a.m. Wednesday morning and she had only just fallen asleep afterspending the better part of the night at Vincent’s bedside.

"What? Who is this?"

"It’s Joe. Wake up, Diana…we may have found Cathy!"

That declaration immediately swept the last drowsiness fromDiana’s brain. She was instantly awake.

"Where!" she demanded.

"Greg Hughes just called. There’s a Jan Doe in a hospital inPhoenix who matches Cathy’s description…even down to thescar in front of her left ear. It’s just too much of acoincidence. This Jane Dow is gravely ill and keeps mumbling aname…Vincent. Diana, it’s got to be her."

Diana jumped out of bed. "I’m on the next plane, Joe."

"No…we are…it leaves at 6:30 this morning andI’ve already made reservations."

"You picking me up, or should I meet you at the airport?"

"Meet me there…Gate 16…Newark Airport. It was the mostdirect route I could get&endash;United flight 321. There’s onestop in Chicago; we won’t have to change planes and we shouldarrive in Phoenix about 11:14. I’ve already arranged for a car.I just hope this isn’t some sort of wild goose chase. I’vegot a very bad feeling about this."

"Don’t worry, Maxwell. Somehow, I know it’s going to beall right." Diana hung up the phone and quickly began to dress.

"Doctor, I found it as I was bathing her&endash;trying to bringdown her fever. I don’t think we ever would have round itotherwise.."

Doctor Jameson carefully and slowly parted the hair above andbehind his patients left ear. There. Hidden by her hair, was a smallswollen insect bite, red and hot to the touch. As the doctor examinedit, his patient whimpered in pain. "Nurse! Get me a toxicologist uphere stat…and check the supply of antivenin on hand. If this iswhat I think it is, it’s a miracle she’s still alive."

The sun beat down unmercifully upon the hard-packed barren earth.Nowhere was there any respite from the incessant, debilitating heatas she slowly placed one weary foot in front of the other. Far in thedistance was the promising blueness of a high mountain range. Shecould only hope that there she would find rest and water andshade.

"Why wasn’t this found before?" demanded Doctor Jameson.

"I don’t know, Doctor. Perhaps the personnel down in the ERwere too busy the night she came in; it’s possible. She wentinto respiratory arrest in the ER; since then, we’ve been busyjust trying to keep her alive. What type of bite is it?"

"Some kind of insect…spider maybe. Didn’t they do ablood workup down there?" Doctor Jameson paced from the bed to thedoor and back again.

"I’m certain they did."

Calming somewhat, the doctor stopped his angry pacing to standbeside the bed and gaze compassionately at his patient. "Well, Isuppose they were only looking for drugs, not insect venom. I think,perhaps our poor young lade had the misfortune of running into aBlack Widow spider, and it looks like the bite is infected. It’sa common occurrence. I just hope we can halt the allergic reactionshe seems to be suffering. We might still lose her. Honestly, Idon’t know what’s kept her alive this long."

They watched helplessly as their patient tossed and turned weakly,held in thrall by some malevolent force of her mind.

She ran a forearm across her perspiring brow and shielded herweary, burning eyes from the incessant, bright globe hanging high inthe heavens. The mountains in the distance looked no nearer now thanthey had when she started her journey across the barren landscape.She turned to look behind her. Far in the distance she could justbarely make out a dark shape on the horizon. The thought of returningthe way she had come crossed her mind fleetingly, but as quickly asit appeared, it vanished. An almost physical pull turned her aroundto face the cool blue mountains once more. Not knowing what theattraction could be, she placed one foot in front of the other andcontinued on her way. The sun continued to drain what little remainedof her energy reserves.

The ever-shifting sand beneath his boots slid and made walkingdifficult. The sun high above beat down unmercifully upon hisunprotected head, yet he stoically ignored the discomfort. No longercould he trust his five senses to lead him onward. Now he must relyon that one, unexplainable inner connection which tied him to the onehe loved, for, once again her life was in danger’ a danger fromwhich he was endeavoring to protect her…if only he could findher. He would bring her home…Below…where she would be safe;where it was cool and far from the beating rays of the sun.

"We found the car this morning, Mr. Maxwell…Miss Bennett. Itwas pulled behind an old abandoned Indian hogan just off reservationland. It seems to be in good working order, so we don’t know whyshe abandoned it. Maybe she spent the night in the hogan, but whythere and not in the safety of a locked car…we just don’tknow.

"We also found some of her things inside. The contents of herpurse and briefcase were strewn all over the floor. Why was she outhere anyway?"

Intent on finding more indication of what may have happened to herfriend, Diana ignored the detective’s questions and entered thedilapidated structure and looked around. She spied something acrossthe room. Lying on the hard-packed dirt floor. She bent down andpicked up a wallet leaning against the mud and stick wall. She openedit, and there, on the front of a New York State driver’slicense, as a familiar face.

"Joe! Come here!"

Hurrying inside the hovel, Joe stopped in his tracks at theexpression on Diana’s face. She held up the license for him tosee.

"It’s Cathy, Joe. Let’s get to the hospital."

Together they collected the scattered belongings of their friendand stuffed everything into the briefcase.

"Detective? Can we leave now? We must get back totown…quickly."

Shielding her eyes from the harsh glare, the woman gazed towardthe horizon. The compulsion to move faster toward the invitingblueness of the mountains increased. She was surprised to see a darkfigure in the distance, moving in her direction. Still too far awayto make out who it was, it suddenly seemed imperative that she reachthe person hastening toward her.

Stumbling along, he lost all track of time, of his surroundings.The only thing that kept him going was the ever-weakening pull on hisconsciousness and his heart. The silver thread which connected themwas fading as her life faded. He must make haste or she would be lostto him…as she almost had been 2 years ago. It must not happenagain. Though his own energy was fast being depleted, he quickenedhis steps until he was running across the shifting sands.

Unable to continue, she collapsed on the burning sands; herstrength diminished to the point where she could no longer forceherself to place one foot in from of the other. She didn’twant to give up, she simply had no strength left to fightonward. She sank to the ground, unaware of a cooling in the air as ashadow passed between her now inert body and the incessant brillianceof the sun.

"Diana, slow down!" Joe called, racing behind his colleague asthey ran through the hospital corridors.

"I can’t, Joe. There’s no time." There’s no moretime, she repeated to herself.

As Vincent was connected to Catherine, through his love for her;so Diana was connected to Vincent, through her love for him, andbecause of that, she was able to sense Catherine slipping away. Dianacouldn’t allow that to happen. Somehow, she must help Catherinemaintain her hold on life until Vincent could reach her through theirbond.

Diana slowed her headlong race down the hallway at the door ofroom 402. Opening it quickly, she hurried to Cathy’sbedside.

"Who are you?" demanded the gray-haired nurse. Joe, following hoton Diana’s heels, calmed Nurse Morales by explaining who theywere and their relationship to her patient.

While Joe was busy with the nurse, Diana pulled a chair closer tothe bed and, sitting down, firmly grasped Cathy’s hand.

"Hold on, Cathy. He’s coming."

Diana began to calm herself, to turn her awareness inward in orderto shield and help bolster Cathy’s dwindling life-force. Shereached and gathered in her connection to Vincent, drawing him withher; then, using herself as a bridge, Diana projected her awarenessof Vincent inward toward his goal.

The sun was not as hot, and a soft breeze gently played with thedamp tendrils of honey-blond hair framing her face. Slowly, thebreeze was replaced by the feeling of a hand gently caressing hercheek.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. A dark form loomed above her,blotting out the rays of the sun. Squinting into the brightness, shesaw the form bend downward and felt the soft scratch of whiskers as acurtain of soft, fragrant, red-gold hair surrounded her face and hetenderly kissed her forehead.

Through parched lips, she whispered a name. "Vincent?"

"Yes, Beloved…I am here. I have come to take you home," hestated firmly, gathering her into his embrace.

Suddenly, the arid landscape changed. A cool, gentle breezesurrounded and caressed them. All around them stood the tall silentsentinels of Nature…massive, ancient oaks, fragrant whisperingpines, and dramatic, white-barked birches with their quaking canopyof delicate green.

"I am so tired, Vincent."

"I know, my love. It has been a long journey…for both ofus…but now you can rest and begin to heal. Diana will helpyou."

"Diana?"

"Yes; she is nearby. She will help you back. All you need do iscall her name and she will be there for you."

"But I want to stay with you," she pleaded.

"You will, Catherine, but things are not as they seem. Look aroundyou. What do you see?"

She wearily looked all around then, not understanding what hereyes told her. "But, I was walking through a desert!" she exclaimed,weakly.

"No, Catherine…not in truth. You are ill&endash;gravely ill.What you journeyed through was only a manifestation of that illness.This," his arm swept around the horizon to encompass their location,"this, is all an illusion. I am far away…in my chamber. Thoughmiles may separate us, we are still bound together by our love, neverto be separated or alone again." Vincent pulled her closer into histender, loving embrace. "Call Diana, my love…call her, so shecan bring you home to me."

Catherine, gazing up into his beloved face, into his startlingblue eyes, suddenly understood why she felt drawn toward the coolmountains of her fevered illusion…the distant mountains mirroredthe blueness of Vincent’s eyes. She cupped a weak hand againstthe side of his beloved face and smiled.

"I love you so much, Vincent," she whispered. Gently applyingpressure to bring his face closer, Catherine kissed him tenderly. Shesmiled and looked above them at the protective green canopy of thetrees. "Diana! Diana! I want to go home," she called.

Diana inhaled sharply and opened her eyes, Catherine’s handstill grasped firmly in her own. The delicate fingers she held beganto move weakly. Slowly, Catherine opened her eyes, blinking slowly asthey focused on the face of the person beside her. She smiled weakly."Hi!" Her voice cracked with dryness.

Nurse Morales hurried to her side and, pressing the call buttonbeside the bed, placed an anxious palm to Catherine’s forehead."The fever is gone!" she declared, smiling.

A harried Dr. Jameson, fearing the worst, burst into the room,drawing Catherine’s attention. "Doctor," she croaked, "when canI go home?"

Dr. Jameson nearly laughed in relief. "Why don’t you give mea chance to check you out and run a few tests, first, then we’llsee. Nurse…."

While Dr. Jameson outlined what he wanted done, Diana tiredly rosefrom her chair and joined Joe at the foot of the bed. She stumbledslightly and his arm was around her waist immediately to steady her.She smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks, Maxwell."

"You’re welcome, Bennett. How ‘bout a cup of coffee. Mytreat," he offered.

"Thanks, I could use it." She placed a hand on the bed to getCathy’s attention. "We’ll be back," she promised, and thenlet Joe lead her from the room.

Awareness returned slowly. A deep sigh drew Father’sattention away from the book he was attempting to read."Vincent?"

"Father," answered the soft, breathy voice.

Father grasped Vincent’s hand in excitement. Struggling tocontrol himself, Father began to examine his son.

"I am fine, Father. Catherine will be coming home soon. I reachedher in time…thanks to Diana."

In the days that followed, Catherine’s health and strengthreturned rapidly. Neither Joe nor Diana left her alone for long, bothconcerned that she might slip back into the cauldron of illness shehad barely escaped.

Catherine awoke early one afternoon to find Diana sitting quietlyat her bedside, a look of concentration furrowing her brow.

"Hi!"

"Hi, yourself! How ya feeling today?"

"Much better, thanks. You looked confused about something.What’s wrong, Diana?"

"Well, Joe and I haven’t been able to figure out why you leftyour car out there in the middle of nowhere, and started to walk totown."

"I didn’t."

"What?" Diana stared at Catherine’s admission.

"I never made it out of town," Catherine continued.

"But…."

Catherine smiled, nodded in confirmation a she attempted to situp. Diana rose and adjusted her into a more comfortable position.Expelling a sigh of relief, Catherine earnestly grasped herfriends’ helping hand, a more important subject foremost in hermind. "Diana…how is he? Is he all right?"

Diana smiled. "I talked to Dr. Alcott last night; he’s justfine, but very anxious for you to come home."

"To think that my illness almost caused Vincent his life," Cathymused, shaking her head sadly.

He was so precious to her, such an important, necessary part ofher life. Since their marriage, she had taken precautions to insurethat her life would no longer be in jeopardy because of her job; thatVincent’s inner balance would no longer be strained.

This trip was supposed to be quick, simple…trying to talk afrightened witness into testifying. That circumstances would unfold,jeopardizing both their lives was something no one could haveforeseen. Cathy began to explain the events to her confoundedfriend.

"The investigator who was slated to make the trip came down sick,too sick to go. All the others were too busy on their own cases toget away. I was available, the case I was working on had just beengranted a stay. I wasn’t even supposed to be gone that long: flydown Friday afternoon, meet with the witness Saturday, fly backSaturday afternoon&endash;quick and easy. Hah! Sure didn’t turnout that easy."

"That’s for sure," Diana agreed. "So what went wrong?"

"Well, when I woke up Saturday, it was such a beautiful day, Idecided to get an early start. I wanted to be able to take my timegetting out to Indian Pines, that way I could concentrate on thecountryside&endash;for Vincent."

Diana nodded in understanding. She had found herself doing muchthe same thing…paying more attention to her surroundings, thecolors, the scents…in order to share her sensations withVincent.

Catherine continued, "I stopped on the edge of town to fill upbefore going out into the country&endash;I didn’t want to bestranded out there if I ran out of gas.

"I pulled into this gas station and when no attendant came out ofthe office, I got out of the car to look for help." She chuckled."Isaac would be very angry at me."

Diana smiled. "Why?"

"I was so busy looking at the beautiful, sunrise, I wasn’tpaying attention. The next thing I remember, was waking up in a shedwith a terrible headache.

"The only thing I can think of, is that I just let the beautyaround me lull my normal sense of caution. I never saw who hit me.The shed I woke up in was cluttered with old equipment, tools, someold tires, and there were cobwebs everywhere."

"That must have been when you were bitten."

"Probably," Catherine agreed. "I remember feeling cold&endash;atleast I had the shivers. I remember hurting all over and once I gotout of there, I was violently ill. I felt faint, but I knew Icouldn’t stay out there so I started back toward town. Thereason I had to walk was because the rental car was gone. Whoeverknocked me out must have stolen it."

"The State patrol found it abandoned and when we found your purseand briefcase, we couldn’t figure out why you had just lefteverything."

"Yes, well…the only thing I remember after that is thedesert&endash;the heat&endash;and a real need to get to themountains."

"But you were never in the desert, Cathy."

"I know that now, but it seemed so real. If it wasn’t foryou…," Catherine reached and grasped Diana’s handfirmly.

"That’s what friends are for, Cathy…to help. Yourfriendship means a lot to me, and you know how I feel aboutVincent."

When it came to how she felt about Vincent, Diana found that shewas not a convincing actress. Not long after Catherine’s‘resurrection’ the two of them had spent a tense eveningtogether coming to terms with their uncomfortable situation.

Catherine had long known how intensely attractive Vincent was toher and naturally assumed that he had the same effect on other women,so she wasn’t too surprised when Diana admitted her feelings.The fact that Diana loved him too, did not worry Catherine for shehad confidence in his love and in the strength of the bond whichconnected them.

Catherine smiled and nodded. "Each person who comes to know him,loves him. Each person who cares for him becomes another thread inthe tapestry of his life. Each thread creates new vistas for him,enriching his life, and theirs, with new designs and colors.

"No matter where we are, or who we are, we’re all partof the same family; those of us who live Above and those of us whoare fortunate enough to live Below, our lives are bound and woventogether into the tapestry of life."

Catherine sighed, and felt along the gossamer thread thatconnected her to that other half of her heart, to her soul-mate. Shefelt Vincent’s love wrap itself in a comfortable warmth aroundher heart and knew that their love was the thread which bound themtogether for all eternity.

One week later, feeling much stronger, Catherine was safelyreturned to her own home Below, escorted by Diana. Descending theladder of her apartment house subbasement entrance to the Tunnels,Catherine felt herself swept from the final rungs and into thewelcoming arms of her beloved husband.

Seeing that she was in good hands, Diana departed silently back upthe ladder, knowing that Cathy would be well looked after. The twolovers never noticed her departure.

"Catherine…I told you Diana would bring you home to me."

She wrapped her arms around Vincent’s neck and thankfullyburied her nose in the fragrant mass of his golden mane. Oblivious toeverything but the living presence of the remarkable being in whosearms she lay cradled, Catherine kissed the soft skin of his neck justbehind his ear, sending tendrils of electricity coursing through hisstalwart frame…a promise of what awaited them once they werealone.

Looking neither to the right nor the left, Vincent carried hisprecious burden home.

Written in March 1992.

Submitted/published in ‘A Secret Place’, Volume 10.