Rosemarie Hauer's SUNLIGHT
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CHAPTER THREE
 The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the park as Catherine made her way down to the drainage pipe that served as an access to the tunnel world. She would have to wait a little while longer before she could enter, because there were still too many people around for her to slip in unnoticed, but she didn’t like the thought of coming here after dusk had set in. The park was not a safe place at that hour. She sat down on a bench from where she could survey the area and wait for the right moment to make her way below. When no more passersby were to be seen, she rose from the bench and slowly walked towards the opening. She looked around cautiously, making sure no one could see her before she actually entered the culvert. It was quite dark in here already, but she walked on valiantly, knowing it wasn’t far to the steel door separating the underground world from her own. She was just about to raise her hand in order to pull the opening lever when she heard footsteps behind her. Before she had time to turn and react in any way, she felt herself being grabbed by a pair of huge hands and the next thing she knew she was lying on the floor, looking into the face of a stranger who grinned down at her viciously. Catherine tried to get up, but he gave her a forceful kick and straddled her, pinning her to the ground with his weight. “I got her,” he shouted and her breath caught in her throat as she heard the footfall of another man running towards them. When a second face appeared above her, Catherine’s heart stopped beating, because it became dreadfully obvious that there was no way out of this horrible situation. She tried to scream, but a cruel hand clamped down on her mouth, making it nearly impossible to breathe. Suddenly she felt a pair of groping hands on her breasts and she closed her eyes tightly to shut out the terror and humiliation she felt. She squirmed and kicked but couldn’t really move. There seemed to be no way of freeing herself from the iron grip around her body. Suddenly there was the screeching sound of metal against stone and a roar reverberated off the concrete walls of the tunnel. Catherine felt the weight retreat and some air return to her deprived lungs. “Vincent,” she gasped as another roar filled the air and a dark figure appeared in her line of vision, lifting one of her attackers from the ground and throwing him forcefully against the wall. Catherine watched as the lifeless body slumped to the ground and when she looked up again she saw the other man had pulled a huge knife to defend himself against the creature advancing on him. Catherine hardly recognized Vincent as the man she had come to love and trust so much. His teeth were bared and she realized she hadn’t noticed before that they were actually fangs. A menacing growl was emanating from him and Catherine felt the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end as she watched him flexing his fingers like claws before he tore through the body of her attacker again and again. When finally the man was lying motionless on the ground, all Catherine felt was a surge of gratitude towards her rescuer. She scrambled to her feet, careful not to touch the body as she stepped over it in order to get to Vincent who was standing with his back to her, his shoulders heaving with exertion. She lifted her hand to touch his arm, but he shrank away. “Vincent,” she said imploringly, but he refused to look at her. His pain and shame about what had happened was a palpable thing between them. She took a step in retreat to give him space. “Thank you for saving my life,” she murmured, suddenly shy in the face of the enormity of what he had done for her. He didn’t acknowledge her words, he just bent and picked up a piece of stone to tap out a message over the pipes. “Please go below,” he demanded, his voice hardly recognizable after the immense strain those roars must have placed on his vocal cords. “Father is expecting you. He will attend to your injuries.” Catherine shook her head. “What about you?” she asked, despair in her voice. “Won’t you come with me? You may be injured, too.” He heaved a shuddering sigh. “I...have to take care of....,” his voice fell away as he indicated the bodies with a gesture of his hand. Catherine stood frozen to the spot, her emotions in turmoil as to what to do, how to get through to his tormented soul. Suddenly he spun around, looking at her for the first time. There was something in his eyes she hadn’t seen there before. Something untamed and dangerous, a distant wildness she could never hope to reach. She saw a plea there, too, a plea to be left alone so he could do what needed to be done. She thought her heart was breaking but she slowly lowered her gaze and walked by him into the dimly lit corridor beyond the steel door. *
Vincent was hardly aware of his surroundings as he walked back to his chamber. The bath in the pool below the falls had cleaned his body, but not his soul. He felt tainted and lost, an outcast of both the world above and the community below. For the hundredth time he was assailed by the question how anybody could stand living close to him when they all knew what he was capable of. With a moan of anguish he stopped in his tracks and braced himself against the rough wall of the passage way. The worst thing was that now Catherine knew, too. She, who miraculously had never been afraid of him, had looked at him with terror in her eyes. She had tried to hide it — for his sake — and the thought might have warmed him if not for the cold despair around his heart. What Catherine didn’t know was that he could feel what she felt. Her terror and fear had ripped through him as if they were his own. She could no longer deny there were things about him which set him apart from humankind. How could he blame her for the repulsion she had felt? He had allowed his control to slip and as always his resolve to fight like a man had been forgotten the moment rage had set in. Inhuman rage that turned his fingers into lethal claws and made him expose his canine teeth like a rabid animal. With a sigh he pushed himself from the wall and resumed walking. His chamber looked strange to him when he entered. He gazed around the room dazedly, as if none of the things in there were his. The desk, the books, the things he had collected — everything looked as if it belonged to somebody else. Somebody human, he thought with a twinge of bitterness. Slowly he crossed the room and froze when he caught sight of something on his writing table that hadn’t been there when he’d left. There was a photograph half-tucked under his journal. Vincent flung the towel he was carrying across the backrest of his chair and picked up the picture, lifting it to his eyes. It showed a crystal, the Herkimer quartz he had given to Catherine the day she left after her first stay below. The crystal in the picture lay on a green leaf bathed in sunlight, and among the sparkling facets Vincent saw the whole spectrum of colors of a beautiful, clear rainbow. He stood there for a long time, staring at the photograph unbelievingly, heedless of the tears running down his face. *
Catherine stood on her terrace, looking down at the night-darkened Her life had changed too drastically for others not to notice. Anyone who knew her fairly well would have questions — questions Catherine wasn’t allowed to answer. It wasn’t even that she went below too often. It was just that something within her had changed, her way of looking at things wasn’t the same anymore. How could she tell anybody that she was drawn to a community of people who lived below ground in a fragile world of tunnels and chambers? A world that depended on the support of people like her who were willing to make personal sacrifices in the name of friendship and love. How could anyone understand that shopping and idle conversation at parties had lost their appeal? And all because of a man who was full of contradictions, who added more questions to her life than answers. Catherine tilted back her head and inhaled deeply. It was a warm summer evening and she wondered if Vincent was roaming the park tonight as she knew he loved doing. She closed her eyes, trying to imagine him wandering through the night. Darkness was his friend, that much she had learned. She hadn’t seen him very often after what had happened at the park entrance a couple of weeks ago. Once she had gone below while he was still teaching his evening class and she had stood there, listening to the gentle ebb and flow of his voice as he read to the children. He was an amazing man. In addition to teaching the children, his regular sentry duty, and the constantly required repair work he was assigned to, Vincent was also busy exploring and mapping the tunnels in order to find new space to live in for the ever growing community. Catherine couldn’t help but wonder if Vincent might be avoiding her. The fact that she had been witness to a side of him he fought so hard to suppress had changed something between them. The closeness developing between them had been shaken and she had to watch helplessly as he kept withdrawing from her more and more. It stung. It hurt more than she would have thought possible. There wasn’t much she could do about it. Every time she went below she hoped he would be there, talking with her as he had before. His joy at seeing her had been a palpable thing, a precious gift she’d savored above everything else. Catherine sighed at the memory. Even when he wasn’t there, going below was like visiting with friends, comforting and relaxing. After she had been attacked at the park entrance, Vincent had seen to it that an old access below her apartment building was reopened so that she could visit in relative safety. The last few times, though, Vincent had been unavailable, and it confused her to find she missed him so much. Maybe I should talk to him, she mused. Maybe we can sort this out. She knew he must have seen the fear in her eyes when he came to her rescue, and she could only hope he didn’t think it had been he she was afraid of. Surely he must have been aware of her relief and gratitude as well. She knew she had thanked him with words, but the state he’d been in made it impossible to tell whether or not her words had reached him. Catherine closed her eyes, trying to conjure up the image of his face as he looked at her calmly, understandingly, but the picture she got of him was an expression so filled with anguish that her heart constricted in her chest. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what his life was like, how he dealt with being outside what others considered as normal. She had no idea what forces drove him on and tormented him at the same time. Despite his extended family deep down inside he must feel very lonely. Her heart went out to him and she wished she could be there for him, just holding his hand, assuring him that she loved him just the way he was. But he probably wouldn’t believe her. He didn’t want her to see him as he was. As things were he didn’t want her to see him at all. Catherine wiped a tear from her cheek as she returned into her living room and settled down with the phone, dialing Jenny’s number. *
Vincent watched the dust motes dancing in the blue light that fell in from the basement of Catherine’s apartment building. He hadn’t seen her in quite a while, although she had come below several times. It was late and she was asleep now, but only a little while ago he had sensed her confusion and sadness. Heaving a ragged sigh, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. He knew he shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t permit himself feelings like that. Catherine was a helper who was kind enough to accept him as he was, who still regarded him as a friend in spite of what she had seen. He knew he should be content with that, but he wasn’t. There was something about the way she felt for him that made him restless, gave him thoughts that were poison in his blood. Try as he may, he couldn’t figure out how she could be repulsed by him and drawn to him at the same time. Obviously this was exactly the ambiguity she was suffering under, and knowing he was the reason for her turmoil was unbearable. However there was nothing he could do about it. Vincent sighed as he imagined her asleep in her bed. So far he had resisted the temptation to go to her terrace and see how she lived. He had to remind himself that it was none of his business. For the hundredth time Vincent asked himself who he was fooling. He was standing here under the basement of her building, thinking of her, imagining her as she was lying in her bed. He’d better not ask what Catherine would think if she knew about it. Standing here like this certainly wasn’t much better than actually sneaking up onto her terrace and peering through her window. Vincent pushed from the wall and straightened. There were many things Catherine must never know. Things that would only frighten her. The entire spectrum of his feelings for her was one of them. His inner connection to her that enabled him to feel what she felt was another. Turning his back on the light from above, Vincent paused for a moment, praying that there was a way to maintain enough distance between them to keep her safe without hurting her too much. Vincent’s heart was heavy as he slowly made his way toward the waiting mouth of the tunnel. |
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