18: Labyrinth of Emotions

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=90 BGCOLOR="#CC9900" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="047005a0dwnjzk.gif"> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U><B>home</B></U></A><B>     | </B><B> </B><B> </B><B>  </B><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#FFCC66" FACE="Arial" ><B>Cassie's Writing</B></FONT></div> <div> <A HREF="id109.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="1: Stolen Memories"><U><B>1:  Stolen Memories</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id110.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="2: A Complex Puzzle"><U><B>2:  A Complex Puzzle</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id111.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="3: Peeling the Onion"><U><B>3:  Peeling the Onion</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id112.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="4: Secrets Revealed"><U><B>4:  Secrets Revealed</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id113.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="5: Going Home Again"><U><B>5:  Going Home Again</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id114.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="6: ThingintheBox"><U><B>6:  Thing-in-the-Box</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id116.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="7: Challenging the Leviathan"><U><B>7:  Challenging the Leviathan</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id117.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="8: Circling the Wagons"><U><B>8:  Circling the Wagons</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id118.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="9: Jebs Curse"><U><B>9:  Jeb's Curse</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id119.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="10: Spell of Jealousy"><U><B>10:  Spell of Jealousy</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id120.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="11: Carrying the Weight"><U><B>11:  Carrying the Weight</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id121.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="12: A Fiendish New Year"><U><B>12:  A Fiendish New Year</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id122.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="13: Barnabas Crisis"><U><B>13:  Barnabas' Crisis</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id123.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="14: Barnabas in Parallel Time"><U><B>14:  Barnabas in Parallel Time</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id124.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="15: Clues to Disaster"><U><B>15:  Clues to Disaster</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id125.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="16: Demons Possession"><U><B>16:  Demon's Possession</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id126.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="17: Breach of Trust"><U><B>17:  Breach of Trust</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><B>18:  Labyrinth of Emotions</B><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id128.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="19: The Amanda Dilemma"><U><B>19:  The Amanda Dilemma</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id129.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="20: Ziganas Cure"><U><B>20:  Zigana's Cure</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id130.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="21: The Approaching Storm"><U><B>21:  The Approaching Storm</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id131.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="22: Enigma at Collinwood"><U><B>22:  Enigma at Collinwood</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id132.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="23: Reunion in Hell"><U><B>23:  Reunion in Hell</B></U></A><B>   |   </B><A HREF="id133.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="24: Scattered Through Time"><U><B>24:  Scattered Through Time</B></U></A></div> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=210 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <B>18:  Labyrinth of Emotions</B></div> <div> <A HREF="id107.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Alternate Destiny"><U><B>Alternate Destiny</B></U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=390 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> Quentin stopped at the first rest stop south of Bangor and went into the men's room to wash his face.   His abrupt departure from the Old House and the fight with Barnabas still rankled, and he felt himself becoming angry again as he looked at himself in the mirror. <I>If Julia is right and Barnabas realizes what he did was wrong, why doesn't he come here? He could find me if he wanted to,</I> he thought bitterly.  He deserved no less than an apology.  </div> <div> There was an angry red swelling around his eye but it had gone down considerably.  When he left Collinwood, the eye had been shut.  Now he could see out of it. He sincerely hoped Jenny hadn't been serious about needing Barnabas and Julia to help him find Beth. <I>They can both go to hell,</I> he decided, climbing onto his motorcycle again.     </div> <div>      He stopped again near Boston for the night and called Cuddeback.  "Jeez, where have you been?"  Chris exclaimed.  "I was sure you'd dropped right off the face of the earth!  That Professor Stokes said you were out of the country!  What was that all about?"</div> <div>      "Man, I'm sorry about that.   I was there the whole time, Chris, but it's a long story.  Trust me--it was unavoidable."</div> <div>      "Well, knowing how things go at Collinwood, I can't say I'm surprised."</div> <div>      "How's things been working out there?"</div> <div>      Chris cleared his throat.  "Very smoothly.  Worked like a charm."  Quentin realized that Amy must be in the room with him.    He cleared his throat and continued, "There haven't been any surprises in between, you understand?  There's another one coming up, you know."</div> <div>      Quentin was relieved.  The bomb shelter was working fine and there'd been no more surprise transformations since Chris and his family arrived in Cuddeback.  "When?" he asked.</div> <div>      "Tomorrow.  So, when can we expect you back?  You sound like you're at some truck stop."</div> <div>      Quentin laughed.  "As a matter of fact, I am.  I'm right outside Bangor.  I'll be there tomorrow."     </div> <div>      "Okay, take your time.  Like I said, everything worked out just fine.  The only thing is, well, your lady friend was here for awhile but she's gone now."</div> <div>      "Amanda was there?" Quentin was shocked.  <I>How did she find the house in Cuddebackville?</I></div> <div>      "She first came down when you didn't come back after a week, and we called Collinwood from here to see what was up.  That's when we first found out you were `out of the country.'  I guess you'll be able to tell me about it?"</div> <div>      Quentin remembered Barnabas' accusations and burned with resentment again.  "Sure.  It's just a long story-that's all.  I'll tell you all of it."  He felt a bitter sense of satisfaction that Barnabas wouldn't appreciate it at all.  Wait until Chris learned what had been done to his brother!</div> <div>      Chris didn't seem to hear the bitterness in Quentin's voice.  "Amanda came back down about a month ago to see if we'd heard from you yet-and to see if we had the same story, I guess.  She said she knew you had some kind of overseas job but she didn't expect that you'd be gone <I>this</I> long.  She's-well, different."</div> <div>      <I>I'll say</I>, Quentin thought.  He'd thought very little about Amanda over the last few weeks.  Between the haunting, Angelique, and his worrying about his ruined plans, he'd not had much time to think of her at all.  "Did she go back to Stroudsburg?"</div> <div>      "She did then.  She was back again two nights ago, and I'm not sure where she went," Chris answered.  "She said the gig was over."</div> <div>      That was possible; Quentin had been gone for several months.  He felt a stirring of guilty unease.  "Put some beer on ice for me, willya?" he said to Chris just before hanging up.  <I>Where did she go?  Well, I can't think about that now.</I>  He hung up and rode his bike to the nearest motel, checking in for the night.  He was afraid he would have dreams that night; to his relief no one bothered him and he slept peacefully.</div> <bR> <div> Traffic backed up along the New England Thruway, partly because of the wet roads from a heavy downpour that forced Quentin to take shelter under an overpass and partly because of an accident.  Irritated by the rubberneckers, Quentin aimed his cycle between the two lanes of traffic and moved along.  Some people honked at him, but he didn't care.  It took a little longer to reach Cuddeback than it normally would have, and he called from Port Jervis' 7-11 to make sure someone was at home.  The phone just rang and rang.  Amy was probably still in school.  Chris and Sabrina were either out or just engaged in something and didn't want to answer the phone.</div> <div>      He smiled mirthlessly and decided to get a cold six pack just in case.  He also grabbed some things to snack on and headed for the family home.  He didn't see the van, so Chris and Sabrina must've gone out.  He might be able to have a couple of hours to rest before he had to talk to anyone.  He went to the cabin and gratefully realized that Sabrina must have aired out and freshened up the cabin for him.  <I>If I can help Chris, he could marry Sabrina if he wants to, and I'll bet he would-he loves her.  </I></div> <div> He paused by the table, seeing a note addressed to him from Sabrina.  <I>Dear Quentin, we've gone shopping but we left the front door open for you.  Julia called four times since you called last night.  She says she needs to talk to you very badly.  It seems urgent.  Call her.  We'll see you later, Sabrina.</I>  Quentin cursed softly, crumpling the note and threw it into the trashcan.  He saw Barnabas' face, contorted with rage, unwilling to listen to reason.  <I>The hell with him,</I> Quentin thought again, feeling angry all over again.  He drank all six beers, one after the other and was annoyed when he didn't pass out.</div> <div>      He went back into the house, going into the kitchen refrigerator.  There was more beer here, and he also found a fifth of Seagram's. He started taking shots with beer chasers.  That was what he was doing when Sabrina and Chris came back into the house, carrying bags of groceries and laughing.  Chris stopped short in the doorway, and Sabrina collided with him.  They both came in slowly, staring at him.</div> <div>      "Good God'a'mighty!" Chris exclaimed.  "What the hell happened to you?"</div> <div>      Quentin looked up, very drunk.  "Nothin happened to me.  Why you ask me that, Chris?"  He knew he was drunk, but felt he still was in control of himself.</div> <div>      Apparently Chris didn't agree.  He took the Seagram's bottle off the table.  "Quentin, why don't we slow down a little here?  This was full when I bought it, and I kinda wanted to share a little more of it than I can now.  It's almost all gone!"  He sounded surprised.</div> <div>      "Oops!"  Quentin said, and began to laugh.  "I'm sorry, Chris, I din mean to drink up all your whiskey. Less go get s'more."  He noticed that Chris and Sabrina exchanged alarmed glances.  "Whassamatta?  I am NOT drunk!"</div> <div>      "Okay, if you say so," Chris said.  "Look, we just got back and don't really feel like going back out again.  Later, all right?"      Quentin nodded agreeably.  Sabrina, who'd discreetly started a pot of coffee, unpacked the groceries quietly.  Quentin picked up his bottle of beer and drained it.  "How is everything at Collinwood?" Chris asked, sounding uncertain.  "You stopped there first after you got back?"</div> <div>      "Oh, it was fine, just fine," Quentin answered, feeling dizzy and warm all of a sudden.   He managed to pick up on the fact that Chris hadn't confided in Sabrina-she still believed that Quentin had been away on an extended trip.</div> <div>      The door opened and closed, and Amy came into the kitchen.  She put her schoolbooks down on the table, picked up an apple from the fruit bowl, and said cheerily,  "Quentin, you're back!"  Feeling as though he was seeing her through a gauzy curtain, he waved at her.  Amy opened the refrigerator.</div> <div>      "Any more beer in there?"  Quentin asked.  Amy looked at him, began to answer, and then stopped.  She had a strange look on her face and walked back to the table, studying him.  It unnerved him a little, and he asked a little sharply, "Whassamatta Amy?"</div> <div>      She reached out and touched his face gently.  "You want to help Chris, but you've been bad-that's why you feel so sad and angry."</div> <div>      "Amy!"  Sabrina exclaimed, sounding shocked.</div> <div>      Amy was looking right into his eyes, as if she could see everything inside his mind and heart.  Suddenly frightened, Quentin pushed his chair back.  He had to get away.   He stood up, thinking he'd better go to the bathroom.  The room started spinning, and the last thing he remembered was his knees buckling and falling toward the floor.</div> <bR> <div>      He woke up to one of those rare splitting headaches.   The shades had been pulled in the room so that it was conveniently darkened; just moving his head slightly caused excruciating pain.  Even my teeth hurt, he thought miserably, wondering where he was.  He must've been drunker than he'd suspected and passed out when Amy had behaved so...curiously.  She'd always been a weird kid.  He tried to sit up but very quickly fell back.  "I felt a cleavage in my brain..." That was Emily Dickinson.  He knew exactly what she meant.</div> <div>      The door opened, letting in a stream of light from the hall.  He moaned, closing his eyes and covering them with his arm.  "Quentin?"  Sabrina's voice, sounding tentative.</div> <div>      "My head feels like it's going to explode right off my head."  He was becoming more aware of a few things.  He was in one of the guest bedrooms of the main house, and someone had gotten him completely undressed.  He also realized he'd been bathed and began to feel mortified, wondering what he'd done.</div> <div>      Sabrina came into the room.  He felt her sit on the bed next to him.  "I brought you something to help you feel better.  Do you think you could try to keep it down?"</div> <div>      "What is it?"</div> <div>      "Alka seltzer and aspirin."</div> <div>      He moaned again.  "Yuck.  I'll throw up."</div> <div>      "Well, you've done that a lot already so there's nothing else that could come up except this.  Want to give it a try?"  He tried to sit up again.  It was no use, though.  He could barely lift his head off the pillow. "Here, let me help you."  He felt her hand under his head, gently lifting it a little.  With her other hand, she brushed his lip with the aspirin.  He opened his mouth and took the pills, feeling a straw at the corner of his mouth.  It was the alka seltzer and he drank it all.  Sabrina lowered his head back to the pillow.</div> <div>      "Thanks, Sabrina," he said gratefully.  "Where's Chris?"</div> <div>      After a moment, Sabrina said, "There's a full moon, Quentin."</div> <div>      He moaned again.  He'd forgotten.  "I've been out that long?  I'm sorry."</div> <div>      "Don't apologize, please!  It's not like I've never seen a drunk man before," Sabrina said with a laugh.  "I bet you won't tie one on like that again for a while, though.  Chris is sure your liver is pickled."</div> <div>      "I threw up?  What else did I do?"</div> <div>      "Don't worry," Sabrina said softly.  "Just rest and feel better, all right?  I don't suppose you'd feel like having anything to eat?"</div> <div>      "Oh, no!  I think maybe I'll just go back to sleep."</div> <div>      "If you feel like you're going to be sick and you can't make it to the bathroom, use this."  Sabrina slipped what felt like a plastic bowl on the bed next to him.</div> <div>      "Thank you," he said again.  The bed moved as she got up, hurting his head but he didn't complain.  He heard the door snick shut softly.  He felt too sick to worry anymore about Chris or Amy or even Beth and finally went back to sleep.</div> <div>      It was still dark when he woke next, but he'd slept so much he didn't think he could stay in bed anymore.  He looked at the clock and saw that it was after three.  His head was still throbbing painfully, but he could move around now.  He turned on the lamp light, looking for his clothes.  I really must've made a mess, he thought.  He checked a drawer and found someone brought some of his clothes from the cabin for him.  What did I do?  he wondered.  He barely even remembered Chris and Sabrina returning.  He couldn't remember having a black-out like this one, and it was unnerving not to remember what he'd said or done.</div> <div>      As he pulled on another pair of jeans, one unwelcome memory did return to him: Amy.  He left the room and wandered into the living room.  Now that he had his bearings, he realized he'd been taken to Dave's old room.  He found the bathroom and then went into the kitchen.  He was hungry now but still cautious about eating.  He did find a chicken leg he thought he could keep down and some coke--probably Amy's.  He went outside to sit at the picnic table.  Startled, he realized Amy was out there.</div> <div>      "What are you doing up so early?" he asked uneasily, sitting next to her.</div> <div>      "I couldn't sleep," Amy explained.  "I waited for the moon to go down."</div> <div>      "The moon?"  He felt unnerved again.  She had such an odd expression on her face.</div> <div>      "Yes," she answered her voice sounding flat.  "The full moon is dangerous, you know."</div> <div>      "Is it?"</div> <div>      She turned to look at him.  He could see her face, pale and ghostly looking.  If there'd been enough light to see her eyes, he was sure they'd be burning with intensity.  "You know it is, Quentin.  Everyone acts like I am just a dumb little kid, but I know things.  You know things, too."</div> <div>      "What things?" he asked nervously. She was scaring him.</div> <div>      "The woman who can help us.  That's why you came--that woman can help Chris."</div> <div>      "What woman? Amy, how do you know about the woman?"</div> <div>      "I don't know.  I just do.  I look at you, and I can see her." </div> <div>      "What does she look like?" he asked curiously.  Beth's face flashed before him.</div> <div>      "She's really old," Amy replied.  </div> <div>      <I>Not Beth</I>, he thought, disappointed.  "Who is she?"</div> <div>      "I don't know her name, just that it's a funny name.  She's not that far, but she's not near here either.  We have to go to her."</div> <div>      "Where?" he asked, but Amy only shook her head.  She became very silent, spookily so.  <I>What else does she see?</I></div> <div> "I know you were bad," she went on as if reading her thoughts.</div> <div>      Now he could feel the hair on his neck prickling.  "Bad?"</div> <div>      "You shouldn't be with that lady, Quentin.  It's not right, especially when you're married."  He started, shocked. Amy reached out and put her hand on his.  "Don't worry, I won't tell."</div> <div>      "Amy--" he began and stopped, looking at her with dismay.  He didn't know what to say, feeling guilty now as well as frightened.  She was just a little girl and yet she seemed so old.  Obviously she was referring to Amanda and it was equally obvious that she knew about Beth.  But how?</div> <div>      "She'll hurt you, Quentin.  You have to stop," Amy continued in that same, strange flat voice.</div> <div>      "Amy," Quentin whispered, stunned.  <I>Angelique said something like that.  How does she know all this?</I></div> <div>      She shook herself and looked at him, this time with a very confused look on her face.  "What?"  Obviously, whatever had come over her was over, and she didn't seem to remember what she'd said.  "Couldn't you sleep either?" she asked, obviously trying to cover her confusion.</div> <div>      "No.  Did you--um, have a bad dream?"</div> <div>      "I always do when the moon is full," Amy said in a whiny tone.  "I don't know why it's always scared me so."</div> <div>      "Sometimes it's scared me, too," Quentin confided.</div> <div>      "Really?"</div> <div>      "Sometimes.  But most of the time, it's really pretty to look at--especially when it shines on the water.  Did you ever see it that way, Amy?"</div> <div>      "No, I never did."</div> <div>      "Well, maybe next month we can look at the moon on the water, and you can see that it's not so scary."</div> <div>      "Maybe," Amy agreed doubtfully.  She began to yawn.</div> <div>      "It's awfully late, kiddo," Quentin said.  "Don't you have to get up for school tomorrow?"</div> <div>      Amy made a face.  "Too early."</div> <div>      "Do you think you could try to get some sleep then?  You'll be awfully tired tomorrow if you don't."</div> <div>      She nodded.  "I guess I could.  It's over, anyway."</div> <div>      "What is?"</div> <div>      Amy got up and gave him another puzzled look.  "I don't know."  She went back into the house, leaving Quentin musing at the table.  When he realized he wasn't going to sleep anymore, he went inside for the key to the bomb shelter.  He took the path down to the dock, sitting on the edge and thinking about the times he'd sat here with Beth.  Eventually, the sun began to come up.  The transformation had to be taking place by now.  He'd just wait until the sun rose a little higher in the sky and then go let Chris out of the bomb shelter.</div> <div>      After a few minutes, he went to the shelter, unlocking the padlock and pulling the door open.  Chris, looking disheveled, blinked up at him from the bottom of the steps.  "You look better than the last time I saw you," he said.</div> <div>      "That's funny--you look worse," Quentin replied, hoping Chris wouldn't take offense.  He didn't.  He laughed.</div> <div>      "I usually hang out down here until Amy leaves for school," Chris explained, sitting down on the step.</div> <div>      "I would have brought some coffee," Quentin said, coming down the steps and sitting next to him.</div> <div>      "I might have told you but I don't think you were in any shape to listen--or remember. Hey, what happened yesterday? You have a falling out at Collinwood?"</div> <div>      "What makes you think that?"  Quentin asked sharply.</div> <div> "Julia's called about a hundred times looking for you.  She wants you to call her back."  When Quentin didn't answer, Chris observed:  "Something <I>is</I> wrong, isn't it?  What's wrong between you and the family, Quentin?" he asked.</div> <div> Quentin stiffened.  "What do you mean?"</div> <div> Chris looked uncomfortable.  "You and Barnabas had a fight.  Why would you do that?"</div> <div> Quentin scowled.  <I>Barnabas and I had a fight, and right off everyone assumes I started it.  </I>"Who told you that? Julia?"</div> <div> "Well, yeah," Chris began.</div> <div> "Why should I be surprised?  Julia the busybody!"  Quentin exclaimed bitterly.</div> <div> Chris looked at Quentin with a puzzled expression.  "She was worried about you-she said told me it was a nasty fight."  His expression changed abruptly.  "Oh-I'm sorry, Quentin," he apologized softly.</div> <div> "For what?" Quentin asked sourly.</div> <div>      "It was Barnabas, wasn't it?  He beat you up?  I thought-"</div> <div>      "He did not beat me up," Quentin interrupted, lying irritably.  "I just didn't fight him back, that's all."  He folded his arms on his knees and leaned on them, brooding.</div> <div>      "What happened?" Chris asked.</div> <div>      "Ohh," Quentin wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it yet, so he tried to wave Chris off.</div> <div>      "You think just because I have problems I can't listen to somebody else's?" Chris asked, offended.</div> <div>      Quentin looked at him then, really looked at him.  He'd never had a friend his age before.  Barnabas wasn't his peer and obviously wasn't even his friend. Even Dave had been more like an older brother.  The only other person he'd called "friend" was Evan Hanley, who'd been no friend at all and had been at least ten years older, too.  Maybe it was time to stop thinking of Chris as a kid--he wasn't, really.  "I told you it's a long story," he warned.  "Sure you don't want some coffee first?  Or some beer?"</div> <div>      Chris laughed.  "A little hair of the dog?  What time is it?"</div> <div>      "Seven-thirty."</div> <div>      "Okay, it's safe to head back.  I'm sure Amy left by now."  Chris got up.  "I'd suggest we go for coffee, though.  Sound good?"</div> <div>      Quentin nodded, and they went upstairs and outside.  Chris took the key and locked the door to the bomb shelter. As they turned toward the path, Quentin asked,  "Chris, how long has Amy been clairvoyant?"</div> <div>      "Is she?" Chris asked cautiously.  A wall had appeared between them again suddenly. Chris was very protective of his little sister.</div> <div>      "Come on, level with me.  Has she always had--what do they call it?  Second sight?"</div> <div>      "Always," he answered.  "Sometimes I think I have it a little--but Amy, sometimes it scares me.  She knows things before they're going to happen, and sometimes she knows what I've done.  I think she knows everything.  We've just been dancing all around it, not talking about it."  Quentin nodded sympathetically.  It wouldn't be an easy topic of conversation with a baby sister--hey, Amy, I'm a werewolf, and if you have a son, maybe he'll be one too.  "I think she knows what really happened to Tom," Chris went on.</div> <div>  Quentin felt himself become cold. <I>I was going to tell him what Barnabas did to Tom.  That would be wrong-I can't tell him that! </I>"Has she said something?"</div> <div>      "No, that's just it.  She hasn't.  But she was--wild, after Tom died.  She was having these nightmares in the foster home she was in.  That's really why Julia had to hospitalize her.  She was having dreams and raving during the night.  She wasn't eating.  She's better, now, but sometimes when we talk about Tom..." Chris broke off and shrugged.  "I don't know how to pinpoint it, I just think she knows more than she is telling."</div> <div>      "I know what you mean," Quentin agreed without thinking. When Chris looked at him, suspiciously, Quentin sighed and told him what happened in the middle of the night.  "She knows about Amanda-and she knows I'm married to Beth. So I know what you mean.  It is scary."</div> <div>      Chris shook his head.  "I just wish there was a way to channel it, or harness it or something.  I don't want to see her get hurt by it."</div> <div>      "Maybe Elliot Stokes could talk to her-maybe he can help her channel her powers."</div> <div>      "Stokes?"  Chris asked.  "He's that guy I talked to, right?"</div> <div>      "Yes-he's sort of an expert in occult subjects  like this.  I'll bet he could teach Amy to harness those talents she's got."  Chris nodded but didn't say anything, so Quentin continued, "He's been a behind-the-scenes kind of guy, Chris, but he's helped the family more ways than you know.  It's just a long story."</div> <div>      "Yeah, you said that-is it part of this story about what happened at Collinwood?"</div> <div>      Quentin grimaced.  "Yes, actually, it is."  They'd gotten to the kitchen and found Sabrina already making breakfast.</div> <div>      Chris walked over to Sabrina, kissing her cheek.  He whispered into her ear, and she nodded.  "It'll be a couple of minutes," she said loud enough for Quentin to hear.</div> <div>      "Want to listen to some tunes?" Chris asked, walking into the living area.  He had a stereo phonograph set up near the windows.  "Let's see what we've got here."  He began flipping through albums.  To his dismay, Quentin watched Chris pick out "Bridge Over Troubled Water" by Simon and Garfunkel.  <I>No, not that one!</I> he thought but didn't protest when Chris took the record out of its jacket and put it on the tabletop.</div> <div>      The song was, of course, the first on the track and Quentin felt deeply depressed listening to the words.  He put his head into his hands, his head beginning to ache again.  The song made him think of Barnabas and Julia-but they certainly were not his bridge anymore.  "Quentin?" Chris asked tentatively.</div> <div>      "Put on something else," Quentin groaned, unable to stand the song any more.</div> <div>      Quietly, Chris lifted the arm and took the record off the turntable.  "You want rock?  I've got Woodstock.  I've got some Beatles."</div> <div>      "Woodstock is fine," Quentin answered.</div> <div>      As Chris changed records, Sabrina came into the dining room carrying plates with eggs and bacon.  She set them on the table, which already had an orange juice pitcher and a pot of coffee.  "Will you two be all right?  I thought I'd go shopping," she said.</div> <div>      "Sure, we're fine," Chris answered.  Quentin shot a look at him, knowing that Chris told her he wanted to talk to Quentin alone.  Sabrina walked over and gave Chris a cheerful kiss, waved to Quentin, picked up her purse and left.  <I>She's different here,</I> Quentin realized.  <I>She's secure and happy here.</I>  "Let's eat and talk," Chris said, as the opening strains of "Freedom" filled the room.  </div> <div>      Over breakfast, Quentin told Chris the whole story-from Barnabas disappearing into the Alice in fucking Wonderland room to his return with Julia and Stokes from 1840.  He told Chris about his own possession and the fight to restore Collinwood.  Chris sat with his mouth agape and his eyes agog but didn't interrupt the story once.  The only part Quentin left out was Tom.  He told Chris that Barnabas attacked him at the Old House because he'd revealed his secret to Stokes.  He told the fight the way he saw it-an unprovoked attack by a selfish arrogant bully on someone who'd only tried to help.  Quentin realized he was beginning to sound whiny and stopped.</div> <div>  "Man, the whole thing sucks for you, doesn't it?" Chris said sympathetically.  "I'm really sorry.  I know how close you are to him."</div> <div> "Yeah, well, I've always been a poor judge of friends," Quentin replied bitterly, and then mentally kicked himself.  It wasn't true.  Dave had been a wonderful friend; he'd had many good friends over the years.  Then there was Chris-and even Julia…</div> <div> "Barnabas over-reacted, man, he did, but I think he was just scared," Chris suggested.  Quentin glared at him.  "Hey, I'm not judging you, man.  I probably would feel the same way you do, Quentin.  It's just that I don't think he would've beat up on you if he'd been thinking clearly."  Deep down, Quentin suspected Chris was right.  "And Julia-man, she's like Sabrina.  She loves him.  That's why she couldn't come with you-it's not because she's against you or anything."</div> <div> "I know," Quentin said miserably.  He felt terrible for leaving Julia the way he had.  "You know something, Chris?  I think I'm more upset about Julia than I am about Barnabas.  I really thought she was my friend-more than Barnabas ever was."     </div> <div> "She <I>is</I> your friend, man," Chris said emphatically.  "She's been calling.  I mean, she says Barnabas is worried, he wants to talk to you, stuff like that.  But it's her picking up the phone.  What are you going to do?"</div> <div>      "I don't know. I can't get past being mad.  I don't think they would've done this to anyone else."</div> <div>      "Look, they kind of played mommy and daddy with me, too, if that's what you mean.   You know-being sort of judgmental, like I needed help and couldn't think for myself," Chris confided.  "I think that's just the way they are. This blaming attitude Barnabas has toward you-well, if he really didn't like you, he'd just kill you if he felt you'd stuck him in the back."</div> <div>      "I guess," Quentin agreed glumly.  "My brother Edward treated me like that.  It wasn't until just before he died that we began to make up."  The memory was very painful right now.  "I don't understand why he's acting like that.  I need my friend back!"</div> <div>      Chris laughed.  "He's can't be your friend, man.  <I>I'm </I>your friend."</div> <div>      "What the hell are you talking about?" Quentin demanded.</div> <div>      "You and I are more alike than you and Barnabas.  Think about it, Quentin.  He's got this whole aura of authority about him that you and I just don't have.  He'd too old to be your friend, man."</div> <div>      Quentin smiled reluctantly.  "Oh yeah?  Well, maybe I'm too old to be your friend, Chris."</div> <div>      "It doesn't work like that, dummy," Chris guffawed, hitting him on the shoulder.</div> <div>      "What?  Are you saying I'm not as mature as Barnabas?" Quentin demanded, feeling insulted at first.  Chris laughed harder, slapping his knees.  Slowly, Quentin realized that Chris was right.  Barnabas might be self-absorbed and obsessive, but he did have a measure of control and authority Quentin knew he would never have.  He shoved Chris.</div> <div>      Chris pushed his chair back and jumped up.  Quentin moved faster, knocking his chair over and sprinting for the back door.  Before he could reach the door handle, Chris body slammed him and knocked him to the floor.  Quentin wasn't sure whether Chris was kidding or not until he heard him laughing.  "Yeah, we're both mature all right, I'm real impressed!" Chris chortled, sitting on Quentin's back.</div> <div>      "All right, all right, get up, would you?  What do you eat anyway?  Bricks?"  Laughing, Chris got up.  The phone began to ring in the other room, and Chris went to answer it.  "If that's Julia, I'm not here yet!" Quentin called in a warning tone.</div> <div>      Chris looked at him and shook his head.  Quentin could hear his voice from the other room.  "Oh, hello, Julia!  Yes, he's here."  Quentin cursed Chris furiously.  <I>Well, I won't go to the phone</I>, he thought petulantly.  Then he heard Chris add, "Well, I'm sorry but I can't do that.  He went into Port Jervis with Sabrina.  Yes, everything is fine here.  No, nothing unusual.  I'll tell him to call you.  Where will you be?  Collinwood?" Chris listened for a while and then said, "I'll be sure to tell him.  I'm sure he'll want to talk to you before you leave."</div> <div>      Quentin went into the living room and glared at Chris, who was just hanging up the phone.  "Man, I thought you were going to give me away.  What's going on there?  Why did you tell her I was here?"</div> <div>      Chris sighed.  "Hey, you might think they don't care about you but they do-at least, <I>she</I> does.  She sounded frantic, man, I couldn't not tell her that you were safe at least."  Now Chris glared back at Quentin.  "You wouldn't have wanted me to do that to Julia, would you?"</div> <div>      Quentin backed down immediately.  "No, of course not."  <I>Not to her.</I>  "What's going on?"  He felt suddenly hopefully.  "She's leaving Collinwood?"</div> <div>      "Yes-with Barnabas," Chris answered.  "She wants you to call her, Quentin.  She wants to clear the air before they go."</div> <div>      "<I>She</I> does?" Quentin asked, sounding a little bitter and resentful.  "I didn't fight with Julia.  Where are they going?"</div> <div>      "To Eastern Europe," Chris answered, his eyebrows shooting up.  He scratched the back of his head.  "Isn't that kinda dangerous?  Going behind the Iron Curtain?"</div> <div>      Quentin was stunned.  "What are they doing that for?"</div> <div>      Chris shrugged.  "We didn't get into it much, man-you have to call her and talk to her."</div> <div>      Quentin began to pace.  "I better wait an hour-make it look good.  Like I've been to town and back."</div> <div>      Chris began to laugh.  "An hour?  Man, you can't hold out any hour!  I'd wait maybe a <I>quarter</I> of an hour!"</div> <div>      Quentin glared at him again.  "Don't worry-I'll manage," he snapped.  Now that he had a point to prove he managed to sweat out the hour, but just barely.  </div> <div>      Sabrina arrived back just as the hour was ending, and Chris got up.  "Look, we'll take a walk and come back, all right?"</div> <div>      "Thanks," Quentin answered gratefully.   Julia must have been waiting for him to call because she answered the phone instead of Mrs. Johnson.  He felt off balance momentarily.  "Julia, it's me," he began, his mind becoming blank.  <I>What is there to say, anyway?</I></div> <div> <I>     </I>"Oh, Quentin, we've been so worried about you!  When you didn't call back last night? We thought there might have been an accident!"  Julia sounded genuinely distressed.</div> <div>      In spite of that, Quentin couldn't help but repeat in an ironic tone, "<I>We</I> were worried?"</div> <div>      "Yes, sweetie.  Barnabas was very upset when he returned and you were gone.  He wanted to talk to you."</div> <div>      "He could have found me.  He's done it before," Quentin replied.  He didn't believe her.  <I>Julia was worried, not Barnabas.</I></div> <div>      "It was almost dawn," Julia said softly.  "We assumed you must have gone to New York, and I called.  I asked Chris to tell you to call as soon as you arrived."</div> <div>      "Well, he did-sort of.  He was out when I got here, but I found the note," Quentin replied.</div> <div>      "Why didn't you call?"</div> <div>      "I got drunk, that's why!" Quentin retorted.  "I got stinking drunk and then I passed out.  And if you knew where I was, he could've flown down here to talk to me if he'd wanted to."</div> <div>      "It's not that easy for him," Julia answered softly.</div> <div>      "Don't make excuses for him, please, Julia.  I'd like to think better of you-did he put you up to this?"  There was such a long silence, he thought he'd made her angry.  Then he realized he'd hurt her.  "I'm sorry," he said.  "I don't want bad blood between us."</div> <div>      "I don't either," Julia replied.  "I want you to come home."</div> <div>      "Collinwood isn't home," Quentin said sharply, his eyes filling.  "Collinsport hasn't been my home for years and years.  I don't have any home."  He was feeling very sorry for himself at the moment, victimized and friendless.</div> <div>      "Quentin, please.  We want to make this right before we leave."</div> <div>      He sighed.  "Oh yes.  Now you're off on a jaunt to Europe.  What's this all about, may I ask?"</div> <div>      "It was Elliot's idea, actually.  He's heard of experiments being conducted in Eastern Europe-"</div> <div>      "With curing vampires?" Quentin broke in, incredulously.  "Are you serious?"</div> <div>      "He is," Julia answered.</div> <div>      "Why doesn't Angelique help him?  Besides, I thought he was in love with her," Quentin answered.  "She must be thrilled," he added.</div> <div>      "She's gone-we don't know where she is," Julia answered softly.</div> <div>      Quentin laughed bitterly. <I>Oh, this is too funny!  Angelique, you are a foolish woman!  You could have Barnabas eating out of your hand right now-it's what you've always wanted.  Where the hell did you go?</I>  He stopped laughing abruptly.  Maybe that is where she'd gone-to hell.  "Her loss," he said.  "So is Barnabas treating you the way you deserve to be treated, Julia, or is he scouting for his new Josette yet?"</div> <div>      "Don't do this, please," Julia begged.  "I want us to be able to make up and be friends again."</div> <div>      "Julia, stop," Quentin objected.  "We <I>are</I> friends-at least as far as I'm concerned."   He paused, feeling suddenly uncertain.  "You are my friend, aren't you?"</div> <div>      "Oh, Quentin, of course I am," Julia answered immediately.  "But Barnabas-"</div> <div>      Quentin broke in resentfully, "Julia, it's always Barnabas.  Do you remember what you promised me if I stayed at Collinwood and helped you through just this one more crisis?"  He took some perverse pleasure in the guilty silence that followed.  "You said you'd come to Cuddeback.  You swore you'd come and help me, you said.  What about that, Julia?  Or did you mean after <I>this</I> one more crisis?"  </div> <div>      "I'm sorry, Quentin-" Julia began.  She sounded as if she was going to cry.  <I>Good</I>, he thought.</div> <div>      "I did my part, Julia.  I did what you wanted-I stayed in Collinwood and look at the thanks I get.  Now you're not even going to come down and help Chris," he continued, knowing this was hurting her.  "It doesn't matter-it doesn't matter that I got your family out of Germany, either, does it?  Not when Barnabas is involved.  And, Julia, you're just kidding yourself-like Angelique.  He's never going to appreciate you the way you should be-"  He broke off when he heard Julia put the receiver down in his ear.  He looked at the phone, his heart heavy.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.  He put the receiver down and stood, staring at nothing for a long time.</div> <div>      When Chris and Sabrina came back into the house, Quentin was still staring blankly at the phone.  <I>Should I call back?</I> He wondered.  When he saw Chris, however, he became resolute.  No, he would not call.  Julia had promised to come; he'd stayed in Collinwood against his better judgement.  Now, not only was there bad feelings between him and Barnabas, he also wasn't getting the help Julia promised.  </div> <div> "Is everything all right?" Sabrina asked curiously.  </div> <div> "Oh, fine," he answered absently.  "I'm just going to go out for a walk."</div> <div> He heard Sabrina begin to say something, but Chris must've stopped her.  He didn't see.  He walked back into the kitchen and out the door.  Once again, he went down the path to the dock and stood staring at the river.  <I>It's still freezing cold with the snowmelt,</I> he thought, looking at the water moving sluggishly.  <I>It's been a long time since I've been to Raymondskill Falls.</I>  He felt a strong desire to see it and even considered walking there.  He realized prudently that it would be very unwise to walk so far.  He turned and walked to the cabin; his bike was parked in front.  </div> <div> Chris came out the front door.  "You comin back for lunch?" he called.</div> <div> "I think so," Quentin called back.  "Don't wait for me, though.  Don't do anything special for me, all right?"  He got onto the bike and started it up.  Chris looked as if he wanted to say something but wasn't sure what.  He waved and went back into the house.  Raymondskill was just a fifteen minute ride now-the roads had vastly improved over the years.  There was a paved road going from the main highway to the falls now; a rough visitors' center had been built and there was even a parking lot.</div> <div> Quentin put the kickstand down on the bike and walked toward the path leading up to the falls.  There were several to take now, and they were well worn by the feet of many visitors.  There were people here now, and Quentin smiled without any humor.  <I>Beth and I used to have complete privacy here.</I>  He watched a couple walking hand and hand toward the top of the falls.  <I>No privacy here-not anymore.</I>  </div> <div> He walked quickly, head down, his hands shoved into his pockets.  He'd hoped to find some peace out here in the woods, remembering how much he'd enjoyed coming here with Dave and Beth.  He stopped at a midway point and looked at the Falls.  The water still seemed to spill miraculously out of nowhere amidst the rocky wall of the falls.  Quentin could feel a light spray of water on his face, misty and cold. <I>Snowmelt.</I>  </div> <div> <I>I'm not getting any snowmelt, </I>he thought, fancifully imagining a snowstorm around his heart.  His anger toward Julia and Barnabas was cold now, and that seemed to be a deeper anger than the hot flaming resentment he'd felt first.  <I>It doesn't matter.  I don't care about them-they obviously don't care about me.</I>  But was it true?  Maybe they didn't care about him-he couldn't be sure of that.  He suspected, though, that he cared about them much more than he cared to admit.  He watched the water rushing, flowing down the side of the rocks and on to the bottom of the falls.  He wasn't feeling any better here at all, and so he turned to go.  </div> <div> He passed the young couple; they were on their way back down and he glanced at them briefly.  He started suddenly, his heart thumping wildly.  The man looked like him, and the woman looked like Beth!  He stopped short, grateful now for the intruding handrails along the path to make the going easier.  He grabbed the handrail with both hands, shutting his eyes, and waiting for the waves of dizziness to pass.  He'd had these spells ever since Berlin; sometimes they'd plague him daily for months and then suddenly go away for a year or two.  Just as suddenly, the spells would come back again-like now.</div> <div> "Hey!" He called out and opened his eyes.  No one was there.  <I>Oh, man, now I'm seeing things!</I>  He thought, dismayed.  Further down, however, he saw the couple on a lower path, moving toward the foot of the falls.  Was it them?  They didn't look like Quentin and Beth anymore.  Unnerved, he went back to the bike and returned to Cuddeback.  </div> <div> It was almost lunchtime.  Sabrina and Chris greeted him when he came in.  "You okay?" Chris asked after a beat.</div> <div> "Why?"</div> <div>      Chris and Sabrina exchanged looks, and then she answered, "You look pale."</div> <div>      He shrugged it off.  "It's just from riding on the bike.  The wind, you know?"  He moved toward the phone.  "I thought I'd call to see if I could track Amanda down."</div> <div>      "Sure, go ahead.  I should've gotten a forwarding address from her," Chris said.</div> <div>      Quentin called the resort manager who'd hired Amanda.  He was very enthusiastic about her and hoped she'd come back for the summer season.  She had a lovely voice, danced beautifully, and was very popular with the weekend crowd.  "Where'd she go?" Quentin asked.  "Did Miss Corey leave an address?"</div> <div>      "Well, no, I just assumed she went on vacation with the gentleman who came to see her."</div> <div>      "Gentleman?" Quentin asked, both curious and annoyed.</div> <div>      "Oh, yes, he began appearing oh, about six weeks ago.  He'd come in for the 8 o'clock show and stay until it was over.  He tipped extravagantly."</div> <div>      "What's his name?"</div> <div>      "I don't know-he wasn't a guest.  He'd just come for the evening.  After the show, he and Miss Corey would go out."</div> <div>      "What did he look like?" Quentin managed to keep the anger out of his voice, sounding impassive.</div> <div>      "A tall, older gentleman.  Solidly built."</div> <div>      Quentin was startled.  <I>Who the hell is that?</I>  He wondered, expecting to hear the description of some young man-another pusher, perhaps, like Bruno.  "Okay, well, thanks."  Thoughtfully, he looked at the receiver and then decided to call Dan Palmer and see if Amanda could be located.  He was very curious to know what was going on with her now.<I>  </I></div> <div> <I>Why?</I> A feminine voice whispered into his head.  <I>Let her go-she'll just hurt you.</I>  He put the phone down abruptly.  Whose voice?  Angelique's?  Jenny's-or Beth's?  Well, he'd call later-maybe.  He walked into the kitchen deciding he'd be much better off if he had something to eat.   Chris and Sabrina followed him into the kitchen.  "Why don't you let me fix something?" Sabrina offered.</div> <div> "Do I still look pale?" Quentin asked, half kidding.  They were both staring at him, looking concerned.</div> <div> "A lot has happened to you," Chris answered.  "Come on, sit down, man."  Quentin shrugged and sat.  Chris cleared his throat.  "I was thinking, Quentin."</div> <div> "What?"  Quentin was still debating on whether he should call Palmer or not.</div> <div> "Did you know that I studied to be an architect?"</div> <div> "No," Quentin answered, only half listening.  He wondered what on earth that had to do anything, dismissed the thought, and wondered what would happen if he just let Amanda go.  It was funny how his feelings toward her kept changing.</div> <div> "Yeah, well, I never got a chance to really do anything with the degree, you know-because of this curse.  Well, there's a lot of honeymoon resorts going up around here, and I've been working on some designs.  I need a quiet place to work, though.  Sometimes Amy makes a racket and, well, I just need office space.  We kind of like it here so I wondered if I could remake one of the cabins over?  What do you think?"</div> <div> Quentin heard bits of it, enough to know what Chris was asking.  He was surprised.  "You want to stay here for good?" he asked.</div> <div> "You don't think the family would go for it?  I mean, I would still take care of the grounds for them."  Chris hesitated.  "Well, it's not like I'm really family, I know, but-"</div> <div> "No, that's not it," Quentin objected. , "I just never stayed put myself.  It just didn't occur to me--oh, hell, Chris, I think it's a great idea."  Why not?  And, come to think of it, why not finagle a way of introducing Chris into the family?  <I>Maybe I can finagle some paperwork to show that Chris and Amy are related to the family-that would be the right thing to do.  </I>He looked at Chris curiously.  "Resorts, huh?  More resorts?"</div> <div> "Honeymoon hotels," Chris replied with a laugh.  "I showed some of my drawings to a man who's got some real estate near here.  He wants to build one of those honeymoon havens."</div> <div> Quentin's brows shot up.  This was news to him.  "So what are these honeymoon havens like?"  The idea was positively tantalizing, and he listened as Chris talked about rooms with heart shaped tubs, whirlpools, Jacuzzis, and small swimming pools.  It sounded like sexual heaven, which made him think of Beth again with a twinge of pain.  <I>She'd like a heart shaped tub or a hot tub,</I> he thought.</div> <div> The phone rang and Sabrina went for it.  Quentin tensed, imagining that it might be Julia.  He wanted to talk to her; he wanted to apologize.  "Oh, hello!" Sabrina said into the phone.  "You'll be glad to know he's right here."  Sabrina covered the receiver with her hand and called, "Quentin?"</div> <div> "Julia, maybe?" Chris guessed.</div> <div> "I hope," Quentin answered, walking into the living room.  "Is it Julia?"</div> <div> Sabrina started a little.  "Oh!  No, it isn't.  It's Olivia-Amanda."</div> <div> "Oh!"  Quentin was disappointed, but he took the phone.  He had a lot of questions for Miss Amanda/Olivia.  "Where are you?" he asked into the phone.</div> <div> There was a sharp intake of breath.  "Oh, Quentin!  I was so worried about you!"  Amanda exclaimed, sounding as if she was going to break into tears. </div> <div> "I'm all right," he answered, tempering his tone, struggling to keep his impatience in check.  "I'm sorry about-about not being able to call.  I tried to call you from here.  Where are you?"</div> <div> "I'm in New York, darling, but just for a few days.  I'll come right back-"</div> <div> "Who's the man you left with?" He interrupted.</div> <div> "What man?"  Amanda answered sharply.  </div> <div> "I called and talked to your manager-he said you left with some man who was visiting you every week.  Who is he, Amanda?"</div> <div> Amanda laughed softly.  "Oh, him!  He just manages another resort in the mountains.  He'd like me to come and perform there for him for a few months this summer.  I'm trying it out this weekend."</div> <div> Quentin was confused.  "Where?  In the Poconos?"</div> <div> "No, silly, I said I was in New York," Amanda laughed again.  Quentin didn't find it so endearing at the moment.  She sounded evasive.  "When did you get back home?  Where were you?  Are you allowed to tell me?"</div> <div> "No," he answered, a trifle shortly.  He didn't want to be distracted.  "Where are you?"</div> <div> "Well, I'm just on my way out.  I'm going to be sooooo busy the next few days, darling, I'm so sorry.  If I had any idea that you were back, I would never have agreed to this."  She paused a moment and then rushed on.  "Quentin, I had to take this-I have to look out for myself.  I didn't know where you were."  Her voice dropped.  "You're not mad at me, are you?"</div> <div> "No."  He wasn't mad.  He didn't know how he felt.  Confused.  Distrustful.  He also wanted her.  The sound of her voice brought her face and an image of her naked breasts to mind.  He flushed.  <I>This almost feels like the damn spell I had on me,</I> he thought, trying to shake his head of the image.  He'd just been missing Beth for God's sake!</div> <div> "Good," Amanda was saying.  She blew a kiss into the phone.  "I'll be there soon-you'll see.  I'll see you soon, darling."  Before he could say anything, she hung up.</div> <div> His face felt very hot and he went into the bathroom to throw cold water on his face.  Julia's words came back to him.  <I>I have to decide what I'm going to do about Amanda.</I></div> <bR> <div> Quentin stewed about it for the next few days and finally decided to call Collinwood to apologize to Julia.  He wanted to get her advice and was dismayed when Elizabeth got on the phone to tell him that Julia, Barnabas, and Willie had flown out of Boston the night before.  "Where are they going?" he asked, although he already knew.</div> <div> "Barnabas apparently has developed a rare blood disorder," Elizabeth explained, in a hushed, worried voice.  "They're flying to Geneva, I believe, to consult with some doctors there."</div> <div> <I>Geneva!  </I>Quentin realized that Julia would never have confided their real destination to Elizabeth or the rest of the family; it just wouldn't have made sense to be going behind the Iron Curtain when everyone knew that the best medical care was in the free world.  Elizabeth didn't know when they'd be back.  He was suddenly depressed but didn't want her to know it and so he made small talk with her for a while.  </div> <div> When he hung up, he searched the cabinets for something to drink.  Chris and Sabrina weren't around; they'd gone into Port Jervis to shop and would be back after they picked Amy up from school.  He couldn't stand the silence of the place.  He found some peach schnapps and beer-they wouldn't do.  <I>I wonder</I>, he thought.  He suddenly remembered the hidden panel in the pantry-Phillip had kept quite a stash of scotch in there during Prohibition.  During the short time he lived here with Beth, Nora, and the children, he thought he'd hidden a bottle or two back there.  He wondered if there was anything left.</div> <div> He found a final gift from Mrs. Cleary.  His hand fell on an old jug.  He drew it out and looked at it, puzzled.  He didn't remember putting anything like that in here.  He pulled the cork out of the bottle and sniffed it-good Irish whiskey.  It would do.  He took it back to the cabin with him.  He had an old record player that played the old 78s, and he had a collection of those in the closet.  <I>These will be worth something some day.</I>  He picked out some blues to listen to, sat down in the rocker and began to sip from the jug.  It was very old whiskey, very fine, very mellow, and very potent.  He hoped he would get very drunk.</div> <div> Some time in the afternoon, Barnabas and Julia came to visit.  <I>"I made him see that he was wrong," Julia explained.  "He's seen how unfair he's been to you, sweetie."</I></div> <div> <I>"Yes, Quentin," Barnabas agreed humbly.  "I never should have lifted a hand to you.  I should have known you would never betray me.  I do apologize most profusely, Quentin.  I hope you can bring yourself to forgive me."</I></div> <div> <I>Quentin felt he could be generous.  "Sure, I'll forgive you, Barnabas," he declared magnanimously.  "You beating me up like that was actually a good thing if it gets you to see how stubborn and close-minded you are, cousin.  Y'really oughta treat people better, ya know?  Not just me-you know that Julia's been awful good to you all these years, and you just don't appreciate her."</I></div> <div> <I>Barnabas nodded his head, deferring to Quentin's wisdom.  "You're right, of course.  I've treated Julia abominably."</I></div> <div> <I>"Y'know who you're like in that regard?" Quentin thought it would be helpful to adopt an advisory role now.  Barnabas raised his brows in a questioning manner.  "It's like me an Beth the first time around, back in 1897.  Remember how I took her for granted?  Y'don't wanna do that with someone like Julia.  You love her, don't you?  Don't you?"</I></div> <div> "Yeah, yeah, of course I do, Quentin, what ever you say," Barnabas answered in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Chris'.</div> <div> Quentin looked up blearily.  Barnabas even <I>looked</I> like Chris.   Puzzled, he turned his head to look at Julia, whose red hair was now a deep shade of brown.  "When did you dye your hair?" he asked, confused.</div> <div> "Don't worry about it, Quentin," Barnabas said in Chris' voice again.  "Listen, let's have you lie down awhile and sleep it off, okay?"</div> <div> "I don't know, Chris," Julia said uncertainly.  <I>No wonder she sounds confused-she's using Sabrina's voice</I>, Quentin thought.  "Do you think he might throw up?  He could choke."</div> <div> "Put him on his side, that'll help."  Quentin felt himself floating to the bed.  <I>Interesting.  I didn't know I could fly.</I></div> <div> "What about dinner, Chris?"</div> <div> "Ah, he'll probably be out for hours.  We'll get him something to eat when he wakes up-if he gets up tonight, that is."</div> <div> "Where do you suppose he found that bottle?"</div> <div> "I don't know, but if there's any more here, he'll sniff it out.  Geez-I'd hate to see what his liver must look like."</div> <div> "How long can he go on like this?"</div> <div> "I don't know, Sabrina-he's just got to get it out of his system.  I just hope he does it before Amy sees him like this."</div> <div> Quentin heard the door shut.  Everyone had considerately left to let him take a little nap.  He woke up hungry, fumbling around in the dark.  He found the lamp switch and was very surprised to see it was after ten.  He realized he'd had too much to drink and had passed out.  <I>Where did Barnabas and Julia go?  They were just here…no, they weren't.  They're gone.  That was just some drunken hallucination I had.  Barnabas isn't sorry at </I>all<I>.  He didn't even say good-bye.</I></div> <div> Depressed, Quentin sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his temples.  He made his way over to the main cabin, opening the door gingerly.   Chris and Sabrina were sitting on the floor of the living room with playing scrabble on the coffee table.  A Peter, Paul and Mary record played softly in the background.  They both looked up when he came in.  "Ah, back from the dead, eh?" Chris commented.</div> <div> "Chris!" Sabrina reproved him.</div> <div> "It's all right," Quentin said.  He looked around.  "Amy?"</div> <div> "She's supposed to be in bed sleeping, but I'll bet she's reading," Chris answered.  "You want me to go get her?"</div> <div> "No!" Quentin exclaimed, alarmed, and Chris laughed.  "You ass, you were just jerking me around?"</div> <div> "Are you hungry, Quentin?" Sabrina asked.</div> <div> "I'll bet you are," Chris put in.  "A liquid lunch doesn't go far.  We saved you some dinner."</div> <div> "Thanks."</div> <div> "I'll get it for you," Sabrina offered.</div> <div> "No, sit down," Chris objected.  "Quentin can get it himself, he's a big boy-aren't you?"</div> <div> "Yes," Quentin answered stiffly and went into the kitchen.  He could feel Chris' disapproval following him into the room.  He found a covered plate inside the stove.  It was still warm.  He found some coke in the refrigerator and sat down to eat.</div> <div> The door opened a crack and Chris looked in.  "Sabrina wants me to make sure you're all right."  He sounded irritable.</div> <div> "I'm fine, don't worry about me," Quentin answered, equally irritable.  As Chris started to leave, Quentin added, "Sorry to inconvenience you."</div> <div> Chris came into the kitchen.  "It's not that, man.  I don't mind cleaning up after you when you puke up more licker than any one man has any business drinking.  I just don't want it upsetting Sabrina or Amy."</div> <div> "Oh.  Well, I'll be sure to be more discreet about where and when I tie one on."</div> <div> Chris sat down at the table.  "I'm sorry, man."</div> <div> Quentin felt mollified.  It wasn't Chris he was angry with anyway.  "I am, too.  I understand about Amy.  Did she say anything?"</div> <div> "She was upset, didn't say much," Chris answered.  "She didn't ask where you were at dinner."  He grimaced.  "It's spooky-I think she knew.  You really think this Stokes would be willing to help her?"</div> <div> "Sure, he would."  Quentin was pretty sure he would anyway.  "Maybe she can spend the summer back at Collinwood-once school lets out."  He wondered if that was such a great idea, Amy, Hallie, and David all thrown together.  Well, maybe everything would be changed by the summer time.</div> <div> "So what's bothering you anyway?" Chris asked.</div> <div> "Julia and Barnabas went to Europe," Quentin answered.  Chris didn't say anything, but when Quentin looked at him he saw understanding in his great grand nephew's eyes.  <I>All the same, </I>he thought, <I>I'll try to keep the drinking to late at night.</I>  After he ate, he went back to his cabin to think and brood some more. He didn't think he would sleep again after being out for so many hours, but he must have drifted off listening to Bessie Smith.  He got up once to turn the record player off and then fell asleep again.</div> <div>      He thought he heard the door open and then close softly.  Suddenly, he was wide-awake, lying still and breathing softly.  Who was the intruder? He could see a form moving toward him tentatively in the darkness.  The bed squeaked as someone sat down next to him.  He felt cool hands on his face and someone's lips on his.  "Quentin, at last!" Amanda exclaimed softly.</div> <div>      Quentin felt as if he'd gotten an electric shock.  "Amanda? My God, what are you doing here?"  </div> <div>      "I just got here, darling.  Are you glad to see me?"  There was a moment of silence while Quentin sat up abruptly and tried to collect his thoughts.  He could almost see Amanda pouting.  "Why don't you say anything?"  </div> <div>      "I'm still a little drunk," he replied, thinking perhaps he really was.</div> <div>      For a moment, Amanda didn't say anything.  Then she climbed over him in the bed, taking his hand and putting it on her naked breast.  "I hope you're not too drunk," she whispered in a seductive tone.  "I've missed you."</div> <div>      "Amanda!" he exclaimed, becoming aroused at the touch of her hardening nipple under his hand.  </div> <div>      "I missed you so terribly," she said softly.  "You never called or anything while you were away, and then the gig ended.  Why didn't you call me, Quentin?"  She'd begun to run her fingers across his chest, scratching lightly.  She found his other hand and put it between her legs.  "Can you feel how much I've missed you?"</div> <div>      "Yes," he answered hoarsely.  He moved to kiss her throat, massaging her breast with one hand and sliding his fingers inside her with the other.  He wouldn't have to do anything to rouse her; he wondered if she'd been thinking about him, planning this, on her way down from where ever she'd been.  He moved onto her, trying to slide between her legs now.</div> <div>      "Why didn't you call?" Amanda demanded, abruptly closing her legs.</div> <div>      "I couldn't," Quentin answered, frustrated.  <I>This is no time to be talking about why I didn't call after she's got me all hard</I>, he thought.  "Honestly, I couldn't call you.  And by the time I could, you were gone.  I didn't know where you were."</div> <div>      "Don't you want to know where I went?" Amanda asked.  "You wanted to know when I called."</div> <div>      "Yes-later," he answered, nudging his way between her thighs. She didn't resist him when he spread her legs again so that he could slide into her.  She arched her back and let out a gasp.  "You'd rather talk about it later, too, wouldn't you?" he asked, beginning to move in her.</div> <div>      "Yes, later," she agreed, scratching his shoulders.  "Don't stop!"</div> <div>      <I>Oh, I won't,</I> he thought, thrusting harder.  She circled his waist with her legs to draw him in deeper, placing her feet on his buttocks to pull.  "Amanda, I can't do this very long if you're going to do that," he gasped.</div> <div>      "We can do it again, Quentin, just don't stop!" Amanda exclaimed again, urging him on. </div> <div>      "All right, don't say I didn't warn you," he told her, feeling himself about to climax.  He wasn't sure whether Amanda had or not and at the moment, didn't care.  He pulled her close, to him, though, and kissed her tenderly.  He never liked being alone at night.  He fell asleep again, still holding Amanda in his arms.</div> <div>      In the early hours of the dawn, he felt Amanda get up and slip out of the bed.  He heard her cross to the dresser for her purse.  She turned toward the bathroom.  Puzzled, he stirred and asked, "Where you going?" She'd already shut the door part way and might not have heard him.  He shut his eyes to go back to sleep.  She seemed to be gone a very long time.  He opened his eyes again, suddenly curious.  He got up and went to the door of the bathroom.  The light was on, and he could see her clearly in the mirror.  She'd already snorted one line of cocaine into one nostril and was preparing to do the same with the other.  "Amanda!"</div> <div>      She jumped.  "Quentin, for God's sake!" she exclaimed guiltily.</div> <div>      "What in the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded.</div> <div>      "Oh, don't be such a drag, Quentin!" Amanda snapped.  "This is nothing new, and you know it!  It's just the twenties again, all these drugs-that's all.  It's no big deal!"</div> <div>      "I don't want you to use that shit here!" he hissed at her.  "If you don't care what you do to yourself, I guess that's your business-but I don't want you bringing that crap here!  Amy's just a little kid!"</div> <div>      "Oh really?" Amanda answered in a nasty tone.  "It's all right for you to polish off this big bottle of whiskey in front of her, is that it?  Well, you'll never guess where I got this from anyway."</div> <div>      "From some new pusher-I know it's not Bruno, either." </div> <div>      Amanda gave him a snide smile.  "From Zenith-your step-granddaughter?  Something like that?"</div> <div>      Quentin was stunned, and then he became frightened, which only made him angrier.  "What!" </div> <div>      "I sure didn't have to go far for this!"  Amanda stamped her foot at him and then turned her back so that she could finish inhaling the line up into her nose.  Quentin moved forward swiftly and blew on the powder as if he was blowing out birthday candles.  "How dare you!" Amanda shrieked, turning and trying to slap him.</div> <div>      He grabbed her wrists and restrained her.  "You'd better talk to me-<I>now,</I> Amanda!  Where have you been?  Where did you see Zenith?"</div> <div>      Amanda pulled free and pushed Quentin, breaking into tearful sobs.  "I went to the Catskills!  I told you-I used to sing there!  I thought I might be able to find a job, but no one needs a singer just yet.  The man I left with manages a resort there.  That's where I was-and he wants me to come back for the summer season."  A barely perceptible cunning expression crossed her features.  "I called you from the lodge, and when the gig was over I was on my way back here.  I stopped at the Chalet Hideaway-how was I to know it was your step-daughter's place?"</div> <div>      Quentin was confused.  "The what?  What are you talking about?"</div> <div>      Amanda sniffed, reaching for a tissue to blow her nose.  She reached for another one and turned back to the mirror, carefully dabbing her eyes.  "Don't you try to hit me, Quentin.  I don't let men beat me," she told him.</div> <div>      "Hit you?  What are you talking about?  You tried to hit me!" Quentin spluttered, and then realized what Amanda was doing.  "Would you just answer my question, please?  What is this place you're talking about?"</div> <div>      Amanda smiled, obviously pleased she knew something he didn't.  "Well, she was telling me the truth anyway," she said, as if to herself.  "Your step-daughter."</div> <div>      "Who?" Quentin demanded.  "Katie?"  Now he was really upset.  "Did you tell her about us?"   He started to move toward her.</div> <div>      She saw him in the mirror and whirled around, her features suddenly hard and cold.  "Don't do it, Quentin-you'll be sorry."  Suddenly, she dissolved into tears again, and Quentin was impressed with her ability to switch her emotions on and off.  "Are you ashamed of me?  Is that why you don't want her to know?" He saw himself in the mirror, looking furious and impatient-not at all sympathetic.  Amanda saw too, and she changed tacks although the tears continued to fall.  "No, I didn't tell her about us."</div> <div>      His shoulders sagged with relief.  <I>Thank God!</I> He thought.  "Amanda, would you tell me what happened, please?  And cut the bullshit crying."</div> <div>      "It's not bullshit!" Amanda cried.  She tried to go to him, but he backed away.  He was still upset.  "I told her you interviewed me."</div> <div>      Quentin shook his head.  "Wait a minute.  Tell me from the beginning, Amanda.  How would you have known to tell her that?"</div> <div>      Amanda made a face at him.  "All right."  She pushed past him and went toward the bed.  She patted the empty side next to her, but he shook his head no and sat down in a chair across from her.  She made a face at him.  "You're going to get cold sitting there, all naked like that."</div> <div>      "Don't worry about me, all right?" he grumbled.  "Just tell me."</div> <div>      "Well, I stopped at this Hideaway Chalet on the way back.  I was tired and I just wanted a place to stay for the night.  And I recognized her-"</div> <div>      "Wait a minute!" Quentin interrupted.  "Where is this place?  Katie lives on a farm."</div> <div>      "This used to be a farm," Amanda agreed.  "Her husband-Rolf, is it?  He'd sold off part of it.  They're going to build houses on it.  They turned the barn into some old motel rooms.  There's another building that has suites in it, and then there was a cottage all to itself-the honeymoon cottage."  She laughed at the shocked expression on Quentin's face.  "You had no idea, did you, darling?  Your stepdaughter is keeping secrets from you!  I wonder why she didn't tell you?  When did you say you saw her last?"</div> <div>      "August-last year," Quentin muttered.  He couldn't get over it. "Before Woodstock."  He remembered suddenly that there had been some bulldozers around.  He hadn't given them much thought, assuming they were for the farm.   <I>I've talked to her since then-I called her for the holidays. Why didn't Katie tell me? </I> "You say they turned the barn into a motel?"</div> <div>      "Yes, maybe they wanted to surprise you," Amanda answered.  Suddenly, her eyebrows went up.  "Oh, dear, I think they <I>did</I> want it to be a surprise, and now I've let the cat out of the bag!  But you must pretend to be surprised when you see them, Quentin!  Promise me?"  He was too stunned and upset to answer her.  Amanda went on, "Well, I recognized your step-daughter but I didn't let on.  She looks a lot like Beth-she would have been a pretty woman if she's still around, I mean, if she'd aged, well, I know she is older-oh, dear!" Amanda stopped, looking mildly distressed.</div> <div>      "I know how beautiful Katie is," Quentin said impatiently.  "Go on."</div> <div>      "Well, she recognized me, too."  Amanda was very cheerful about that.  She was very pleased.  "She was honored to have Miss Olivia Corey stay in her modest establishment.  She offered me any room I liked-imagine!  Well, I wanted to take the honeymoon cottage but she looked a little upset and apologized.  She told me her daughter Anneliese was living there.  I decided I would stay in one of the suites instead.  They've taken their farmhouse, Quentin, and turned the downstairs into a restaurant.  They make excellent German food."</div> <div>      <I>This is crazy-it doesn't make any sense,</I> Quentin thought.  <I>Katie in the restaurant and motel business?  Why?</I>  "I imagine they would," he commented dryly, thinking that they had expertise if nothing else.</div> <div>      "Yes, I had a fine sauerbraten, and Rolf-Katie's husband-was quite entertaining.  What a lovely gentleman, telling all kinds of stories," Amanda went on in an animated way.  Worried, Quentin told himself Rolf would <I>not</I> have talked to Amanda about him.  "And the children-they're quite lovely, Quentin!  Lots of blondes!  And when Anneliese came in, well, it was like looking at Beth back at Collinwood."  Amanda paused.  "Very charming," she said in an ironic tone.  "I wanted very much to ask about you, darling, but I knew to wait for the right opportunity.  Finally, the littlest girl asked me if I had any good looking men chasing me."</div> <div>      <I>Oh, no!</I> Quentin thought, dismayed.  Amanda laughed, but not so merrily.  "Oh, don't look so alarmed!  I said no, no one chased me recently but that I'd had a <I>very</I> good looking journalist interview me not long ago-Grant Douglas."  Quentin closed his eyes, partially with relief and partially with exasperation.  "Imagine my `surprise' at how interested both your step-daughter <I>and </I>Anneliese became at that!  They wanted to know when I'd last seen you.  I was hoping they would have heard from you-but they hadn't."  Amanda gave him a slightly accusing look.</div> <div>      "I couldn't call," Quentin replied softly, feeling inexplicably guilty as he thought of Katie.  "I couldn't help it."</div> <div>      Amanda's expression softened.  "Quentin, come back into bed, it's chilly."</div> <div>      It really was, so he got up and got into his side of the bed, carefully keeping his distance from her.  Her eyes started to fill up again and he said sharply, "No, Amanda, don't-I want to hear where you got that coke from!"</div> <div>      "After we ate, Anneliese came outside and we walked together.  She told me you two had been to Woodstock together."  She glared at Quentin a little.  "You didn't tell me that."</div> <div>      "There wasn't any reason to," Quentin replied defensively. <I>He thought it would make a great human interest story.  He stopped by the Baumgartner farm on the way to the concert because it was only a few miles away, and he wanted to see Katie very badly. He was shocked when he saw Anneliese-Zenith.  She looked equally shocked-and frightened.  He managed to signal to her that he wouldn't give her secret away, wondering if Katie and Rolf knew their daughter had been to Chicago-and spent at least one night in jail.</I></div> <div> <I>     There was a great scene at the farmhouse because Lisa intended to go to Woodstock, too, and her parents were upset and furious.  They didn't want her going with her hippie friends.  "I'll walk if I have to!" Lisa declared stubbornly.  She looked so much like Beth and Katie, Quentin thought, admiring her spunk.  He offered to take her-he'd keep an eye on her.</I></div> <div> <I>     Lisa gave him a very appraising look; Katie and Rolf were too grateful to notice.  They trusted him to take care of their little girl, and so he'd taken Lisa with him.  On the way up, he found out that Rolf and Katie had no idea what she'd been up to.  He was dismayed, but not surprised.</I></div> <div> <I>     He'd never seen anything like Woodstock.  Traffic stopped on the New York Thruway-he remembered the Arlo Guthrie's awed announcement to the crowds.  There should have been trouble-there was a shortage of shelter and food, bathroom and washing facilities but it was the most incredibly peaceful gathering he'd ever been to.  There was music around the clock-and lots of drugs. Kids were getting high on not only pot but other drugs as well.</I>  <I>He remembered the admonitions over the loudspeakers to "beware of the brown acid, man". </I></div> <div> Lots of the kids took their clothes off, especially when the rain started.  They danced in the rain and skinny-dipped in the cool water nearby.  He and Lisa did some of that too, and they'd smoked pot but didn't use anything else-at least not together.  He'd spent most of his time trying to keep Lisa's hands to herself, and she was furious with him.  When he agreed to take her with him, she'd assumed he was going to sleep with her.  She didn't expect a babysitter.  She wondered if he was homosexual or if she was unattractive; he denied both.  He couldn't tell her the truth as much as he was tempted to.     He got his story-and he brought Lisa home safely.</div> <div> Now he looked at Amanda, feeling inexplicably guilty.  "You took drugs with her, didn't you?" Amanda asked, with a knowing smile. </div> <div> He was sure Lisa told her, so there was no use lying about it.  "Yes," he admitted reluctantly.  He became angry at the who are you to tell me not to take drugs expression on her face.  "It was just pot, Amanda.  We didn't use anything else."</div> <div> "That you knew of," Amanda retorted.</div> <div> "Really?  What did Lisa tell you?" Quentin demanded.</div> <div> Amanda laughed.  "Well, she stayed away from the brown acid-but she managed to sample a little of everything else whenever you weren't looking--or when you were off peeing in the trees or sleeping."</div> <div> Katie, Quentin thought, imagining how this would hurt her.  He wondered how heavily Lisa was involved in drugs.  "So Lisa got you cocaine?"</div> <div> "And some heroin-she called it smack."  At Quentin's alarmed expression, she said soothingly:  "Don't worry!  It was just a little skin-popping!"</div> <div> Quentin was furious.  "Did Lisa show you that-or you showed Lisa?" he demanded, thinking of Cholly.  How could she do this?</div> <div> Amanda took a placating tone. "I'm sorry, darling, I know you don't approve.  Please don't be angry.  She offered it to me."  She dropped her voice to a whisper and added sympathetically, "I'm sorry to tell you like this.  It's very upsetting-your stepdaughter has no idea.  She doesn't know what her daughter is into."</div> <div> Quentin couldn't listen anymore.  He rolled onto his side, facing away from Amanda and pulled the sheet and blankets over his head.  He felt Amanda's hands trying to pull the blankets back.  "Leave me alone!" he yelled at her.  "Don't touch me!"</div> <div>      Amanda laughed softly.  "Ha!  That's what you say now!  Wait until you wake up with your cock in my mouth and we'll see what you say then."  </div> <div>      He shut his eyes tightly and refused to answer her.     <I>Oh God, </I>he thought,<I> I think I'd rather be fighting Leviathans than listening to this! </I>Lisa had given the cocaine and heroin to Amanda.  <I>Could it be any worse?</I> </div> <div> He heard Amanda sigh and settle down next to him.  She didn't try to move close to him, as if she sensed he would push her away if she did.  Angelique's words of warning came to him then.  He'd forgotten all about it-until now.  He was awake for a long time, wondering and worrying.  </div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id126.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="17: Breach of Trust"><U>17:  Breach of Trust</U></A>    <A HREF="id128.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="19: The Amanda Dilemma"><U>19:  The Amanda Dilemma</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> </td> </tr></table></body>