23: Reunion in Hell

<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><A HREF="id127.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="18: Labyrinth of Emotions"><U><B>18:  Labyrinth of Emotions</B></U></A><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><B>23:  Reunion in Hell</B><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>23:  Reunion in Hell</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's joy at seeing Beth again was tempered by her fear of him.  It wounded him deeply.  He'd tried to put his arms around her in the van as Chris drove them back to town, but she pulled away, shivering.  "Beth, what's wrong?" he asked, heartbroken.</div> <div> Beth shook her head.  "I can't-I'm sorry, I can't."  Her voice had a strong accent.  It almost reminded Quentin of Magda's accent.</div> <div> "Are you angry with me?" he asked quietly, and heard Chris draw in his breath sharply and uncomfortably.  <I>Damn, maybe this is private but Beth is my wife and I haven't seen her in over twenty years!  I have to know where she's been and what's wrong with her!</I></div> <div> "No!" Beth exclaimed, sounding shocked.  She tentatively reached out for Quentin's hand.  "No, the shock-I just can't, I'm sorry."</div> <div> "I tried to find you, I swear I did," Quentin persisted, his fingers twining with hers.  "I kept going back, searching for you."  His voice was becoming ragged.  "Even when the Iron Curtain went up, I went back.  I tried, Beth."</div> <div> "Ja, I know," Beth answered softly.  "Barnabas and Julia-they tell me how you tried.  I believe you."</div> <div> "Where were you?" his voice came out of the darkness in a whisper.</div> <div> "It is long story, but I tell you-when we get to hotel, ja?"</div> <div> "Katie's there, Beth," Quentin said softly.</div> <div> "Mein Gott!"  Beth's voice was nearly inaudible.  She began to weep then.  Quentin moved to take her into his arms again, and this time she didn't try to stop him.  She put her head on his shoulder and cried as if her own heart was breaking, too.</div> <div> "Look, why don't we go somewhere else first so the two of you can talk," Chris suggested.</div> <div> Quentin whispered, "Do you want to, Beth?"</div> <div> "Ja-yes, I would like to talk to you first alone, Quentin," Beth whispered back, trying to stifle her sobs.  "I can't see Katie yet, nicht jetzt."</div> <div> "Okay, I have an idea," Chris said.  "An old swimming quarry Joe, Tom and I used to swim in."  He drove away from Collinsport.  The place Chris spoke of was about a mile off the main road between Collinsport and Rockport.  Quentin vaguely remembered this place; it had been abandoned for years.  Chris parked the van.  "I'll wait here," he said.</div> <div> "Beth, come on, we need to talk," Quentin urged her softly.  Beth got out of the van and shyly slipped her arm around his waist.  He sighed with relief.  Her initial reaction to him frightened him.  He put his arm around her and they walked away from the van.</div> <div> They sat down on a flat rock together.  As he turned to face her, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close.  They wept again, telling each other how glad they were to be together at last.  Their heads fit together, cheek to cheek.  Under his fingers, he could feel the stark outline of her ribs.  When the tears slowed down, they both began to laugh self-consciously.  Quentin stopped, listening to the musical tone of Beth's voice; he'd missed it so much.</div> <div> "I was afraid you'd faint," he finally said to her in German, taking her hand in both of his.  Her delicate hand with the long slender fingers felt rough to the touch.</div> <div> "I thought I might, too," she confessed in a shy, tentative tone.  "I felt so dizzy when I realized it was you."  She reached out and caressed the side of his face.  He turned so he could kiss her palm.  It was rough and callused under the light brush of his lips.  "I'm scared, Quentin."</div> <div> "Of me?" He asked, grieved, his eyes filling up again.  "Is that why no one told me that you'd been found until just now?"</div> <div> "I wasn't afraid of you, my love.  I was afraid of me-I mean, the changes in me.  I was afraid of what that would do to us."</div> <div> "What do you mean?" Quentin asked.</div> <div> Evasively, Beth went on, "Barnabas wanted to call you as soon as we left Sarajevo-when we got to the hospital in Berlin.  He wanted you to come out right away.  He was so excited for you-and he wanted to make it up to you."</div> <div> "Make it up to me?"</div> <div> "He had an argument with you?  Or he did something to you?  I asked him not to call, Quentin.  It was me."</div> <div> "But why?"</div> <div> "Because of everything that's happened-oh, I'm not the same person at all that you knew, and I didn't know what to do about it, and I didn't know what you would think of me, and oh!"  She started crying again.</div> <div> "I don't understand," he whispered to her, holding her close.  "All I know is I love you-I've always loved you, Beth.  I always will, didn't you believe that?"</div> <div> "You don't even know everything that's happened in all these years, Quentin.  How do you know you'll feel the same way about me?  Listen to me, I know I don't sound the same.  I don't think so clearly in English now-it's difficult even for the German.  I don't sound like an American anymore, do I?"</div> <div> "It doesn't matter," he assured her.  "Beth, I'm not the same either.  You don't know everything that's happened to me in all these years.  But don't you still love me?"</div> <div> Beth reached up to caress his face again.  "Yes," she answered softly.  "Yes, I still love you."</div> <div> They put their arms around each other again, holding on tightly.  "None of it matters," he told her.  "All that's important is that we're together again."</div> <div> "Yes, but you must be patient with me.  I feel so out of place here."</div> <div> "You do?"</div> <div> "It's not like this over there.  I'm not used to being-free.  All these years, you've been here.  You could come and go as you pleased.  And there are no many new things that they don't have-there.  The clothes, the hair, everything is so different.  I feel odd."</div> <div> That had never occurred to him.  "I'll help you not to feel so odd," he said.  "Tell me about you-where have you been and what's happened?"</div> <div> Beth shook her head.  "I can't-not yet, please.  I want to hear about Katie-she is here, you said?" she whispered.</div> <div> "Yes, she is, and very anxious to see you."  He paused, trying to think how to cover a lifetime in condensed form.  There was so much Beth didn't know-she'd last seen Katie in 1938; her daughter was only fifteen years old then.  He wondered where he should start.  Beth was looking at him expectantly. "Well, Katie's married.  She's married to a good man named Rolf Baumgartner-"</div> <div> "That name!" Beth interrupted, gasping sharply.  "I know it!"</div> <div>      "He was the go-between, you know, when we-"</div> <div>      Beth put her hand up to stop him.  "I remember now.  A Nazi soldier!  Quentin!"  She sounded distraught.</div> <div>      "Listen, listen, he wasn't really one of them-that's why he helped us by passing messages back and forth.  Do you remember?"  Quentin felt a little frightened; Beth had gone very pale and shut her eyes tightly.  "Beth, please look at me!  You're scaring me!"  She opened her eyes and looked at him, distraught, her face still colorless.  "Beth, he was-is-a good man.  He helped me get away.  He put himself in danger to do that.  That's how I got out of Germany to begin with.  We couldn't get you-they'd moved you by then, and we didn't know where you were.  Please, Beth, he really is a good man!"</div> <div>      Beth nodded slowly, her coloring slowly returning to normal.  She covered her face with her hands and shuddered again.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.  "How long have they been married?"</div> <div>      "Oh God, forever," he replied.  He thought hard.  "Since 1947.  Twenty-five years."</div> <div>      "That long?  Oh, then he must be good to her.  He is, isn't he, Quentin?"</div> <div>      "Yes, my love, he is.  They have-had-a farm up in Hunter, New York, in the Catskill Mountains.  It's beautiful, Beth.  Well, they just changed over from farming to inn-keeping and they're doing very well."</div> <div>      "Oh, I'm so glad," she whispered, relieved.  "Do they have children?"</div> <div>      "Yes, five.  Two boys, three girls," Quentin began.  Beth had begun to cry again, silently.  He thought he understood.  "Beth," he said, reaching for her.  She went right into his arms, and he cradled her against her body, holding her tightly.  "I'm sorry," he whispered.</div> <div>      "Tell me about them-what are their names?"</div> <div>      He cleared his throat, feeling it becoming tight.  "Well, the oldest is Joe.  He's married, too, to a Swedish girl, Edle.  And-" he broke off suddenly.  He didn't think he could tell her about Jennifer yet.  "And there's Anneliese and Peter.  They're in college."</div> <div>      "Peter?" Beth repeated.  She'd wiped away some of the tears, but they started all over again as she thought of her own son now.  "And they're in college?  My God."</div> <div>      "Yes-or supposed to be."  Mentally, he kicked himself.  He really didn't want to tell her about Lisa either.  Quickly, he went on, "And the two youngest girls live at home.  Kristin is named for you, Beth.  She's a senior in high school this year.  And then Katerina is thirteen.  They call her Katja, or Kat most of the time."</div> <div>      "You've stayed in touch with Katie and her family all these years, Quentin?"</div> <div>      This was touchy.  He wasn't sure if she'd feel jealous that he had.  "Yes, I have."  He cleared his throat again.  "There was some years I didn't go for a visit because the kids were getting old enough to notice I wasn't aging, and so I waited for a few years and then I went back.  But we've always talked on the phone."</div> <div>      "Oh!" Beth cried.  She hit him on one shoulder and then slapped the other.  She turned her back on him and wept again.  He put his arms around her again, and she turned back to him, burying her face on his shoulder.  "I'm sorry!  I didn't mean to do that-I just got so jealous, and I wasn't thinking!  I'm sorry!"</div> <div>      "You don't have to say you're sorry to me, Beth, I understand," Quentin said softly, thinking of that sappy movie and the line `Love means never having to say you're sorry.'</div> <div>      Beth wiped her eyes.  She glanced back at the van, discreetly parked almost out of view.  "The young man-who is he?"</div> <div>      "Chris Jennings," Quentin said.  "Do you remember what I told you about what happened when Barnabas came to 1897?"</div> <div>      Beth shook her head sadly.  "I'm sorry."</div> <div>      "Don't!" Quentin found her tears almost too much to bear.  "Chris Jennings is my great grandson," he explained.  "Margaret Rose's son."</div> <div>      Beth's eyes grew round.  "Oh!  And he has a sister, Amy?"</div> <div>      "Yes-how'd you know about her?"  Quentin asked curiously.</div> <div>      "It was CaraLinda," Beth said softly, beginning to tremble.  "She cured them, didn't she?  They don't carry the curse anymore?"</div> <div>      "No," Quentin replied softly.  He looked at Beth.  "Do you know what happened to CaraLinda, Beth?"</div> <div>      Beth looked away, a tear beginning to stream down her face.  "She's dead, isn't she?"</div> <div>      Quentin turned her face back toward him.  "Yes.  What happened, Beth?  If you know, please tell me."</div> <div>      Beth looked at him steadily for a long time and then answered, "Ja, I'll tell you what I know.  It's him-he's coming back."  When Quentin began to speak, she put her hand over his lips.  "No one is safe now, my love."</div> <div>      <I>Petofi?</I>  Quentin mouthed the word.  "Here?  Now?"</div> <div> "I think, ja, but I'm not sure.  He was there-in Sarajevo when I was to leave with Barnabas and Julia."  Her face was very pale, and she rested her head on Quentin's shoulder.</div> <div>      "He confronted you?" Quentin asked.</div> <div>      "No, he didn't come forward and say anything.  I noticed the man-I thought he was KGB-when Mihaly and I got to Sarajevo.  He had those same cold, flat eyes, and he just looked me up and down as if he knew exactly who I was.  Let's go back now."</div> <div>      Quentin helped her get up.  They looked at each other again for a long time, and then he bent to her.  She reached up to put her arms around him and returned his kiss.  At first awkward, they continued to kiss and explore a little.  Quentin could feel his passion rising, and Beth gave him a very slight push to stop him.  He put his arm around her and slowly walked with her back to the van.  Chris had fallen asleep behind the wheel and Quentin might have laughed if he didn't feel such an impending sense of doom.</div> <bR> <bR> <div>      As they crossed the foyer of the Inn, Beth grabbed Quentin's hand and squeezed it hard, and Quentin knew she was nervous about seeing Katie again.  "It'll be all right," he told her gently.  They went to the suite, and Quentin could hear voices.  Sabrina and Amy were waiting it out with Katie.</div> <div>      "We'll duck out," Chris offered.  "Leave the three of you alone."</div> <div>      "Danke," Beth said softly.</div> <div>      Quentin's hand shook a little as he opened the door to the suite.  Katie, Sabrina and Amy were sitting on the sofa and all three turned.  Katie cried out and got to her feet.  Beth gasped, too, and the two women moved together, embracing each other, two blonde heads together, crying.</div> <div>      Amy smiled, and Sabrina's hand went to her mouth.  Her eyes filled with tears, too.  "Come on," Chris urged in a whisper.  "We can do the introductions later.  Let's leave them alone."  Quentin gave them a grateful smile as they left.  </div> <div>      "I never thought I'd see you again," Katie wept.</div> <div>      "Also me too," Beth answered in an equally teary voice.  She switched over to German, babbling now-how much she'd missed her baby, how sorry she was that she couldn't free herself, how grateful she was to be able to hold her baby again.  Quentin looked down and away, profoundly moved.  Katie switched to German instinctively and her voice mingled with Beth's.  They weren't listening to each other anymore, suddenly realized it, and burst into laughter through their tears.</div> <div>      As they sat down to talk, Quentin breathed a sigh of relief that he'd managed to stay fluent in German.  <I>Thank you, Rolf!</I> He thought.  It wasn't as easy for him as it was for Katie and Beth, both of whom seemed to think in that language first.  Quentin had to concentrate on how to change what he wanted to say from English to German.  <I>The first thing I'm going to do is teach Beth to think first in English again,</I> he thought.  He got up and called the desk downstairs to order something to eat and drink for them all.  It would be a long catch-up session, he was sure.</div> <div>      Beth couldn't seem to keep her hands off Katie's hair, plucking at it and smoothing it.  Her eyes went over her daughter's facial features again and again.  Katie didn't seem to mind and seemed to be doing the same thing.  Quentin suddenly realized why Beth's scrutiny was so much more intense.  Katie was used to the idea of Quentin looking the same; Beth couldn't get over the fact that her daughter looked like her mother now.  <I>Poor Beth,</I> he thought with genuine sorrow.</div> <div>      At last, the two women seemed to have exhausted themselves.  Quentin wanted to ask what happened at Collinwood, but Beth suddenly turned to him and asked, "So? How is it that you got away, Quentin?  You said Rolf helped you?"</div> <div>      Quentin was disconcerted a little.  He hadn't thought about it in a long, long time; it was too painful.  For Beth, though, it must have constantly been on her mind, just as he'd constantly wondered what had become of her.  "Well, yes," he began slowly.  "Do you remember Joachim?"  Beth literally jumped and blanched, and both Quentin and Katie grabbed either hand.  "I'm sorry.  How could we forget him, eh?  All right, well, he was going to move me, too, and Rolf came in before the others.  He cuffed my hands behind my back and hauled me roughly down a flight of stairs-to make it look good, you know?  There was a back door, and we went through it. </div> <div> "Outside there were some other guys dressed in uniforms, but they weren't real Nazis.  They were from special operations.  There was a man named Sean Culhane.  He was in charge and he had orders to get me out.  But I got him to listen to me; told him I wasn't going without you.  That's when he said you'd been moved already."  Quentin closed his eyes.  It was painful.  It had hurt.  "They didn't know where-and there was no time to look, he said."  This time, he felt Katie and Beth pressing his hands for support.     "All right, well, then, I told him we had to get Rolf out too, and he agreed."</div> <div> "I know you tried to find me," Beth said gently, putting a hand on his arm.  "I knew it then, too.  I could feel it.  We both suffered so much-but I'm still glad you were able to get away."</div> <div> "Actually," Quentin said ruefully, "I was thinking maybe it would have been better if I hadn't been.  I would have preferred to be with you-no matter where it was."</div> <div> "No!" Beth exclaimed explosively, suddenly furious.  "First of all, you don't know that we would have been together.  Second of all, it was a hell-a nightmare for many of those years.  I would NOT have wanted you there."</div> <div> "I didn't want YOU there," Quentin protested.  "I was so lonely for you-"</div> <div> "Ja? I was lonely for you too, Quentin! But don't you take away what little comfort I have by wishing away the time you got to spend with Katie and the children!" Beth shouted.  Katie's face went white, and Quentin winced at her ferocious tone. He'd rarely ever seen her so angry.  "I didn't want you with me, do you hear?  I was glad you were safe!  That was all that made it bearable, don't you understand?"  She burst into tears again.  She pushed Quentin's hands away.  "I don't ever what to hear you say that again, do you hear me?  Never!  You promise me you'll never say that again!"</div> <div> Quentin was frightened by the intensity of her anger.  "I promise, Beth!" he swore.  He'd say anything to calm her down.  She continued to glare at him for a few moments more, and the look in her eyes upset him badly.  "Beth?  You're looking at me like you hate me.  What's going on?"</div> <div> Beth looked away, closing her eyes, and took a deep breath.  She sighed and opened them again, looking at first Quentin and then Katie, who was wide-eyed with surprise.  She smiled gently and looked like her old self again.  "So you left then with Rolf and the secret agents?"</div> <div> "I'm almost afraid to tell you anymore," Quentin admitted honestly.  "Beth, the look in your eyes just now-"</div> <div> "It's all right, I won't look at you again like that.  I promise.  Please tell me."</div> <div> "All right-if you'll tell me about you."</div> <div> "Yes, yes, but you first.  How did they get you out of Germany?"</div> <div> "I was smuggled out.  The government's got undercover forces that do these things-run in and make rescues.  Sean Culhane was from Ireland.  There were lots of people in the underground working with the U.S. team.  Before we left, he found out where you'd been taken, but there was no way to get you out.  We had to leave."  <I>It was the worst day of my life</I>, Quentin thought, but kept it to himself for now.  "We went overland to the north, to the shore.  There was a boat there on the Baltic Sea.  It took us to Ireland.  From there, we went to the States."</div> <div> "This is Rolf now, Mama," Katie said softly, taking out her wallet and showing Beth a recent picture of her husband.</div> <div> "Ah, so it is," Beth said softly.  "And you love him?  He's good to you?"</div> <div> "Yes," Katie said, her voice thick with unshed tears.  "He really loves me, Mama.  He's a little hard-headed, but he is a very good man."</div> <div> Beth looked up and smiled, nodding.  She put her hand over Katie's.  "To love someone for so long is a gift.  I am glad that you have that gift, too, my Katie."</div> <div> Room service arrived, interrupting their little emotional scene.  Beth looked overwhelmed at the sumptuous table wheeled in.  Quentin tipped the man and to break the silence, he said enthusiastically, "Boy, I'm hungry-aren't you?"</div> <div> "But so much food!" Beth exclaimed in English.  Both Quentin and Katie looked at her, puzzled.  "This is a feast, so much to eat, it goes to waste, ja?"</div> <div> "No," Quentin replied.  "You eat as much as you want, Beth."  He was thinking about her bones and how sharp they felt through the skin.  </div> <div> "Everything is so different," Beth continued in English.  She looked distressed.  "So much to choose from.  And the language-" She blushed.  "At the airport, everywhere I hear this word, `fuck'."</div> <div> Quentin laughed wryly.  "Ah, you'll get used to it."</div> <div> "It is vulgar," Beth objected.  She looked at the table, seemingly overwhelmed with choices.</div> <div> "You can have a little of everything, Mama," Katie encouraged her.</div> <div> Beth smiled uncertainly and then tentatively reached for a roll and some cheese.  Quentin poured coffee for all of them.  Beth lapsed back into German as she added grapes to her plate.  "I was just thinking about Mrs. Cleary.  Remember how patient she was with me?  I was so used to do everything myself-I didn't know how to let her take over.  And now-I am too used to other people deciding what I do."  She stopped smiling, looking at Quentin.  "She died, ja?  She was old, even in Vienna."</div> <div> Quentin nodded.  "She died in Baltimore.  She lived on with Mary Jane, even after she retired.  Her own kids were grown and all over the country.  She always did have that soft spot for Mary Jane, do you remember?" </div> <div> Beth smiled and nodded.  "For Nora was so ill and could not care for her, poor Mary Jane."</div> <div> "I went to see her at the end," Quentin said softly.  "She had a stroke and she just-" He broke off.  He remembered his brother, Edward.  "She just seemed to go to sleep, like Edward."</div> <div> "She loved you," Beth remembered with a smile.  "I think she would have adopted you, too-and me, if I hadn't any parents.  When you came back, did she still call you `Whosis'?"</div> <div> Quentin laughed.  "Right up to the end.  `Whosis'.  Sometimes `Wha's'is'name'."</div> <div> "And what of Mary Jane?" Beth asked softly.</div> <div> "Well, Mary Jane married a really nice guy named Fisher Douglas.  He's a government something or other," Quentin explained, not wanting to tell Beth that Douglas was an agent for the CIA.  "They have some kids, too-Frank, Noreen, and Kevin."</div> <div> "I've missed their whole lives," Beth murmured with soft regret, her eyes filling.</div> <div> "Don't, Mama!"  Katie sounded like she was on the edge of tears herself.  "You couldn't help it."</div> <div> Beth sighed and wiped her eyes with a napkin.  "You have a nice farm, Katie?"</div> <div> "Well, it was a farm," Katie began.</div> <div> "Oh, ja, I remember now," Beth amended.  "Now you have an inn?"</div> <div> "Yes, the town we live in attracts a lot of tourists."</div> <div> "We can hike there sometime-in the mountains, I mean," Quentin said.  "If you want to, I mean."</div> <div> Beth's eyes lit up with interest.  "Ah, I would like that.  I can walk, Quentin.  I'm used to it."</div> <div> "You didn't have a car?" he asked, hoping she'd open up now and talk a little bit about herself now.</div> <div> Beth laughed ruefully.  "No, no car.  A bicycle, yes, I had that.  If we needed to go far away, there was always the train."</div> <div> Quentin wanted to ask who `we' were but was afraid she'd freeze again and refuse to talk.  "Were you travelling by train or by bicycle when you ran into Barnabas and Julia?"</div> <div> Beth's eyes flickered with fear a little, but then she answered cautiously, "By bicycle."  She sighed, knowing they both wanted to know more.  "I was living with a Roma tribe, Quentin.  There was word that there was an American couple looking for someone fitting my description.  They were being…oh, what is the word?  Not obvious in their inquiries.  Discreet-that's it.  Our <I>rombaro</I> felt this would be the best chance for me to get out, and so I went to the city with one of our little boys, Mihaly.  No one would suspect a mother and son travelling together for an outing in the city.  And so Mihaly took me to the place I was to meet this couple-and it was Barnabas and Julia.  Really, before I could do anything, they whisked me away to see the couple who took care of me in Germany, Mr. And Mrs. Sanders."</div> <div> "Did you know who they were, Beth?  Barnabas and Julia, I mean."</div> <div> "No.  I was hoping it would be you and Katie.  Yet, when they said their names I remembered them from your stories, my love.  Yes, I was afraid of them.  Of course!  I wasn't sure their plan would work-to get me out, I mean.  They had papers-a birth certificate and a passport made out for me.  Mr. Sanders took me to the American embassy and told them I was defecting-and it worked.  Everything was fine then, and we went to Berlin together."  Beth frowned slightly.  "I never got a chance to say goodbye to Mihaly-well I suppose I had said my good-byes to all of them, but I didn't really believe it would happen."  Her voice trailed off.  Quentin put his hand over hers.  She looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain.</div> <div> "What was it like there for you?" Quentin asked in a whisper.  "Can't you tell me, please?"</div> <div> Beth sighed and then nodded reluctantly.  "I try, ja?"  She thought for a few moments and then went on, "I lived with different families in the tribe all this time-since the end of the war.  There would come a time when people would begin to wonder about me. `Why does she not get old?' they'd say, and so the <I>rombaro</I> would see to it that I went to another safe place.  The biggest problem was my hair and my eyes, ja?  I didn't look like a member of the <I>Roma</I> people.  When we came into a town I'd wear a kerchief around my head.  I didn't do any of the singing or dancing."  Beth laughed.  "It was all right, I was not so good at that anyway.  I learned how to weave and make little things to sell-jewelry and pottery and other things like that.  I know that people didn't like us very much, and the government officials surely despised us.  In spite of this, I tell you we probably had more freedom that the citizens of these town because we were always moving."</div> <div> Beth talked for a long time about her life with the Romano families.  It almost sounded like an adventure, Quentin thought, trying to remember that much of the time Beth had been cold and hungry while he'd had a warm place to sleep and food to eat.  It did sound like an exciting life, though.  Beth had been almost everywhere in Eastern Europe, including Moscow.  She'd been there one May 1 when the soviets had been parading their heavy arms, displaying their power to the world.  He was surprised to hear that she'd been in Czechoslovakia in 1968-when the Soviets had marched in and taken over, in spite of the public pleas for help from the Czech government.</div> <div> "What were you doing there?" Quentin asked, surprised.</div> <div> "It was because of Alexander Dubcek," Beth explained.  "Did you know his parents had emigrated to Chicago, Quentin?"</div> <div> "Yes, I knew-and they went back.   They were Communists."</div> <div> "That might be, but whatever they learned in America-I think they somehow passed it on to their son.  He was elected First Secretary, and we heard that he wanted to reform the government so that it was not so…what is word? Oppressive."</div> <div> "That's what got him into trouble."</div> <div> "Yes, I know.  That was why we went that spring, Quentin. We almost felt free.  You have no idea what it's like to live in a place with so much fear to say what you think.  It's hard to explain."</div> <div> "I remember," Quentin objected.  "I haven't forgotten the Nazis."</div> <div> "Yes, yes, of course, there was the Nazis-but the Communists were worse.  I really did feel what you call `brainwashed' after a while.  They told us the same things again and again.  One thing they always told us, `Americans are dangerous.'  I know this was not so, but I could not say so and after awhile-it's so hard to explain, but after a while-" She paused, distressed.</div> <div> "Mama, what?" Katie prodded gently.</div> <div> "I remember many years ago, there was-how you say?"  She stopped trying to speak in English and began to speak rapidly in German.  Quentin had a hard time following her as her words tumbled out rapidly.  "We heard that in American the Americans were persecuting the Communists.  They'd taken an innocent couple, the Rosenbergs, and murdered them for their beliefs.  They were holding trials on television every day, and our people were disappearing by the dozens.  Premier Khrushev talked to us about the insidious evil of capitalism."</div> <div> Quentin interrupted:  "But, Beth, there was evidence that the Rosenbergs gave information to the Russians about the atom bomb."  Beth's eyes grew huge with fright.  "And I think the televised trials you're talking about was some witchhunt by a demented Senator-he didn't last long.  No one was killed, and no one disappeared.  This Senator Joe McCarthy-he just ruined the lives of a lot of people."</div> <div> "Well," Beth said, "this is why we went to Czechoslovakia.  I did not know whether all these things were true or not, but we felt hopeful that we'd be allowed to think and speak freely.  We wouldn't have the government telling us what to do all the time. Quentin!"  Beth's eyes lit up with the memories.  "It was so wonderful for a while-jazz clubs opened up.  I was able to take my friends to listen to that music, darling-like the music we listened to in Chicago, remember?  They'd never heard such music before.  It was wonderful, but it only lasted a short time."</div> <div> "I remember hearing about the tanks massing on the borders," Katie said with a shudder.</div> <div> "That was because of a demonstration in Prague that turned into an anti-Communist rally," Beth explained.  "Everyone likes to blame the students-they said it was the evil influence of the spoiled capitalistic students here in this country.  It wasn't, really-everyone wanted the change.  Women lined up outside the Treasury building wanting to donate their wedding rings to help support Mr. Dubcek's reforms."  She sighed.  "After that rally in May, there was trouble in Poland.  They were calling for their own Dubcek to come and free them.  Things just kept getting worse and worse-Mr. Dubcek was trying to hang on, and then those Soviet tanks you were talking about, Katie, arrived in August.  That was the end."  Beth looked lost in thought, remembering.  "We got out after we heard the radio broadcast.  The broadcaster said something like, `This is the last time you are going to hear from us.  You're going to hear shooting, but we must win this fight.'  Well, how can a little country like Czechoslovakia fight the Soviet Union?  It was time for us to move on anyway.  We enjoyed it while it lasted."" She sounded a little bitter with these last words.  "We got word later that the people at that radio station were all shot-lots of people were shot in the next few days.  Not us, though.  We slipped away."</div> <div> "It was like Hungary all over again," Quentin said, taking her hand.  "I remember listening to the appeals from the Czech government."</div> <div> "But no one helped."  Beth sounded bitter.  "It's funny-over and over again, the government thinks if they do something to stop injustice there's going to be a war.  So they do nothing-and there usually ends up being a war anyway."  Beth sighed.  "Well, it was too good to be true anyway-"</div> <div> "What was?" Quentin asked.  "The freedom?"</div> <div> "No.  We heard that there was someone looking for a blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman.  We were going to the American embassy to find out."</div> <div> "Damn!" Quentin exclaimed.  That could have been any number of his contacts.  He hadn't been in Czechoslovakia then although he'd wanted to be there, very badly.  "You know, I wanted that assignment, but I couldn't speak Czech, just German."</div> <div> "You were in Europe somewhere, I remember," Katie recalled.</div> <div> "I was in Derry all summer and into the fall," Quentin answered irritably.</div> <div> "Derry!" Katie exclaimed, her eyes widening.  "With the IRA?"</div> <div> Beth looked at them, puzzled.</div> <div> "Now what makes you think that?" Quentin asked evasively.</div> <div> "There are Irish in the Catskills, Daddy," Katie said.  "I know that it's the British who call that city Londonderry.  So were you really with the IRA?"</div> <div> "Where is Derry?" Beth asked.  "What is IRA?"</div> <div> "Derry is in Northern Ireland, and the IRA is the Irish Republican Army," Quentin answered.  He looked at Katie.  "I wasn't with the IRA.  I was there, yes.  And yes, I did stay with IRA sympathizers and not with the Brits, Sherlock.  But I can tell you about that later."</div> <div> "With whom did you stay?" Beth asked curiously.</div> <div> "Terry Culhane, the son of the man who helped me get out of Berlin," Quentin answered.  He took Beth's hand.  "I'll tell you all of it later, I promise.  I just want to hear about what happened to you right now.  Who were you staying with when you heard about someone looking for you?"</div> <div> "The same <I>familya</I> I was with in Sarajevo.  The <I>rombaro</I> was Miklos Romano.  There were about a dozen of us travelling together.  Miklos' daughter, Janka, was my best friend then.  And Marcsa, that was Miklos' wife.  Janka was married to Matyas, and they had a baby, Kristof.  Then there was Elek and Zsaki and the other children, Sofia, Andor, and Tama."  Beth rattled the names off so fast, Quentin felt his head spinning.  "Marcsa and I made crafts to sell for the tribe.  She read the crystal ball, too.  I didn't do that-because of my hair.  Janka told fortunes, too, and she danced.  Sometimes Matyas danced, too.   Or juggled.  Elek sang and played instruments…"</div> <div> "Who was your knife thrower?" Quentin interrupted, and Beth looked at him blankly.  "Didn't anybody throw knives-like Sandor used to?"</div> <div> "Oh!  No-they were a musical tribe, I guess.  They didn't do very many acrobatic tricks.  There was another tribe I lived with that had a sort of travelling circus, and they did all those things."  Beth seemed a little nervous and chattered on in a general way about life with the nomadic tribe.  It almost made his life seem tame and boring, Quentin thought, listening to her.  Now she'd begun to talk about Yugoslavia and the hatred between the sects there.  The tribe kept to themselves, subsisting on what they could and avoiding the most fanatical of the Serb or Croat villages.</div> <div> "Why did you go there?"  Quentin asked curiously.  "I understand why you'd go to Czechoslovakia but then it sounds like you all made a 180 degree turn."</div> <div> "A what kind of turn?"</div> <div> "From one extreme to the other, Beth.  From freedom to oppression."</div> <div> Beth shrugged.  "I wasn't sure why-then.  Marcsa said it was the best thing for us to do, although to be honest with you, my love, I wondered the same thing.  I couldn't imagine why we'd go to such an awful country.  Most of the time, we had to sleep out in the wild, and it was so cold in the winter."</div> <div> "What kind of work did you do with your hands?"</div> <div> "Just field work.  That's how we'd make our money when there was nothing else.  And I worked with-oh, I'm not sure what you'd call it.  The material was like burlap.  I would make clothes and wall hangings from it, and it was rough on my hands.  And the cold, too-it made my hands very rough because they'd get chapped."  Beth clasped her hands together, apparently feeling self-conscious about them. Quentin took one of them and kissed her palm tenderly.</div> <div> Beth talked for several hours, slowly moving back in time to when she'd last seen Quentin in Berlin.  As they reached that point, Quentin joined in with his own.  They listened to each other and sometimes broke into tears together.  </div> <div> "What happened to you after you were taken away in Berlin, Beth?"</div> <div> For a long time she didn't speak.  "They took me to East Berlin when we were separated," Beth explained.  "The war-it was almost over.  It was just a few weeks, you see?  And then one day, the guards were gone.  We did not know what would happen to us-and then the Russian army, they came in.  They freed us, or so we thought.  I told them I was American.  I hoped they would turn me over to the American soldiers."</div> <div> Beth's eyes filled with tears.  "Those men, they were like animals.  They were shooting all the German men they could find.  As for the women, well, they would just-" She paused as the tears spilled over.  She couldn't speak.  "They would just-they would just taken them in the alley ways, on the sidewalks, anywhere.  It didn't matter whether the women were old, young, pretty, or ugly, fat or thin-it only mattered that they were women."</div> <div> "Where'd they take them?" Quentin asked, not understanding.</div> <div> "No, I mean the soldiers would-they would <I>take</I> them, sometimes more than one soldier at a time.  Sometimes three or four or five of them-"</div> <div> Now he understood and was horrified.  "Did they do that to you?"  When she didn't answer, he cried out:  "Beth, my God!"  He and Beth twined their fingers together and wept.  Katie wept with them, unable to speak.</div> <div> "It is worse," Beth added softly.  "Petofi found out about us."</div> <div> "Did you see him?" Quentin asked, feeling cold.</div> <div> "Nein, but some soldiers came and took our group away.  My companions and I were taken to the headquarters.  There was a Russian major there, and his eyes were like those of a dead fish.  I think he was a creature of <I>his</I>, so inhuman he was.  They held us for questioning-I think <I>he</I> was searching for us. They were especially curious about me-because, well, you know why, Quentin.  One of my companions told them I could be beaten and then would heal right away.  They couldn't believe it. They wanted to see for themselves."</div> <div> "Oh God, no," Quentin groaned.  He let go of Beth's hands and covered his face.  The thought of Beth enduring torture because of that portrait hurt him deeply.  "Why did they betray you, Beth-your companions?"</div> <div> "Oh, darling, you know how cruel they can be.  They forced the information from us.  I would have told them anything I could to stop the pain.  I think I did.  I remember my friends being taken to the yard one by one and shot.."  Beth's voice dropped.  "The major would come and tell me who would be shot next.  They wanted me to tell the secret-why I healed so quickly, and even though I did this, they didn't believe.  They wanted to know where the portrait was.  I would tell them, I do not know, and they did not believe.  And so, one by one, all my companions were killed."</div> <div> "How did you get away?"</div> <div> "Somehow men from the Romano family came and smuggled me from the place-much as they smuggled you out, Quentin.  I do not know how they knew I was there or why they came for me.  I was in a state of shock.  They smuggled me first to Hungary.  From there, I moved on."</div> <div> Beth's memories began to move forward again until they'd reached the painful point where Quentin had miraculously found her in Sarajevo; they'd barely enjoyed the few hours they'd spent together, planning a hurried escape that ended in another disastrous arrest.  That was why Quentin had been permanently expulsed from Eastern Europe.</div> <div> "What happened after we were arrested, Beth?" Quentin asked her.  "How did you get away?"</div> <div> "Mihaly saw what happened, and he ran back and got Miklos and the other men.  They hadn't started to question me yet when they managed to smuggle me out. By then, you were already gone-deported."</div> <div> "No torture?" Quentin asked, looking at her searchingly.  He wanted to be sure she was telling the truth.  Her eyes filled up and she shook her head, no.  He didn't think she was lying; they seemed to be tears of relief.  "Thank God.  I was so worried about that.  Where did you go after that?"</div> <div> "We fled into the mountains first-it was so cold, though.  We moved south and east, but it was so cold everywhere.  We went into Bulgaria-the Balkan Mountains, and we stayed there until we felt it was safe to move on again.  We heard rumors again that there was a couple travelling in the Transylvanian Alps-an American couple.  They were searching for a cure to a very old curse-and for a blonde, blue-eyed woman.  This was Barnabas and Julia.  They found the cure they were looking for in Romania.  I met them in Sarajevo."</div> <div> "So you came back?"</div> <div> "Yes, to get out and to be free-it was worth the risk to go there again.  We'd heard this couple was travelling with a representative of the American embassy.  We knew they were looking for me, and the Romanos thought this might be the last chance to get me out.   So, it was hard, but we came."</div> <div> There was something in the way Beth spoke that made Quentin wonder if she'd really wanted to leave.  "Did you want to get out?" he asked and thought she hesitated for just a fraction of a second.</div> <div> Then she said, "Of course, Quentin!  How can you ask this?"</div> <div> "I guess I'm just insecure," he answered softly.</div> <div> "Well, I wanted to go, of course, and so we made a plan.  We made camp just outside Sarajevo, and Miklos said that I should bike into the city with Mihaly.  People would think we were just a mother and son going to market together.  Mihaly would take me to the American embassy.  It worked-we were inside the compound before anyone noticed.  That was all there was.  I don't know what happened to Mihaly, but Julia said she spike to him through an interpreter.  He told her it was better he should just go.  He said he knew that I loved him and his brothers and sister and-well, everyone in the family." Quentin thought he heard another hesitation in Beth's voice and he looked at her a little suspiciously. Beth looked away.</div> <div> "Mama, what happened here?" Katie asked suddenly, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had gone and the change in atmosphere.</div> <div> "He's back," Beth whispered.</div> <div> "I know," Quentin answered.  "Have you seen him?"</div> <div> "Perhaps.  I am not sure."</div> <div> "Is it Adam Collins?"</div> <div> Beth swallowed hard and shook her head.  "Of this, I cannot be sure.  I only remember Willie taking me downstairs to hide.  I did not see or hear anything that happened."</div> <div> They were all exhausted, emotionally and physically.  Quentin wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with Beth and hide there but they wouldn't be able to do that.  They had to find the Jennings family and plan their next move.  "We can talk over a meal downstairs, ja?" Beth suggested.  Quentin called the Jennings' room and Chris answered.  They agreed in meet in half an hour.  This would give everyone time to freshen up.</div> <bR> <div> Over their meal, Chris asked, "So what is this Petofi?  A warlock?"</div> <div> "No," Amy answered in a flat tone.  "Warlocks are devils."</div> <div> "Oh!" Beth exclaimed, and Quentin put a restraining hand on her arm.  He'd forgotten to tell her about Amy.</div> <div> "Nicholas is a warlock," Amy went on in the same flat tone.  "He is a <I>waerloga</I>, almost like the black man.  Nicholas is older."</div> <div> "What black man?" Chris asked, but Quentin and Beth already knew.</div> <div> "Zigana knew-she watched for him.  He's a chameleon, though.  That's why she is dead."</div> <div> Quentin felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle.  He wanted to ask Amy about Adam Collins, but she was already coming out of her trance.</div> <div> "Do you remember anything else about what you saw or heard?" Chris asked her now.</div> <div> "No, just that he changes-like a chameleon," Amy replied.  "Did I remember enough?"</div> <div> "You did just fine, honey," Chris assured her.</div> <div> Beth sat, speechless and wide-eyed.</div> <div> "Adam Collins invited us all to have dinner with him tomorrow," Quentin said.  He looked around the table at the pale faces facing him.  "I think under the circumstances, it's not such a good idea."  He told Sabrina, Katie, and Beth that he'd seen Adam Collins with Nicholas Blair.  Only Sabrina and Amy knew who that was, so Quentin quickly explained to Katie and Beth that Nicholas was a powerful warlock.</div> <div> "And he's here again," Beth mused in a distressed tone.  "I wonder if he was the one…" She broke off.</div> <div> "How are we going to find out what happened to everyone?" Chris asked.  "I mean, where are they all?  And what happened to Carolyn?  Why did she attack Professor Stokes?"</div> <div> "She didn't mean to," Amy declared.  "It wasn't her."  She flushed a little as everyone looked toward her again.  She wasn't going into another trance.</div> <div> "Do you know who she is?" Chris asked gently.</div> <div> Amy shook her head no.  "It's just not Carolyn though."</div> <div> "We'll have to figure it out another way," Quentin said.  "There's no way I'm putting us all at risk by going out there again."  No one disagreed with him.</div> <div> After dinner, Katie discreetly decided she would go out shopping for a few hours.  Chris glanced at Sabrina, who took the hint, and said she'd like to go to.  There seemed to be an unspoken agreement among everyone that Quentin and Beth needed more privacy but that none of them should go out alone.  Chris and Amy decided to go to a movie, leaving Quentin and Beth at the table, twining the fingers together and feeling very shy and awkward all of a sudden.  "Why don't we go back to the room where we can talk some more?" Quentin suggested in a hoarse whisper and Beth nodded, ducking her head and blushing.</div> <div> Beth wandered into his bedroom as Quentin found the brandy bottle and poured a couple of glasses for them.  She hadn't come out yet, so he followed her into the room, trying not to remember that this was the same bedroom he shared with Amanda months ago.  "I thought I might take a shower," Beth said, looking and sounding nervous.</div> <div> "Okay," Quentin agreed.  "There's a radio in here.  I'll put on some music for us to listen to-and we can talk, all right?"</div> <div> "Ja, yes, is okay," Beth said, smiling shyly and disappearing into the bathroom.  The door locked behind her.  Quentin had taken his pants off, and now he sat down on the bed, in the process of unbuttoning his shirt.  <I>What's wrong with her?</I> He wondered, puzzled.  <I>Does she think I'm going to peek or something?  We ARE married, after all.</I>  He ached to hold her again.  He heard the shower start and finished taking off his shirt.  He took a drink from the bottle and then poured some of the brandy into his glass.  He got up and turned on the radio, playing soft music.</div> <div> He lay back down on the bed, listening to the music and sipping the brandy, trying not to think about Beth and his rising cock.  The radio station played Chicago, and he closed his eyes as he listened, dreamily, enjoying the sound of the brass instruments.  He felt the bed go down under Beth's weight.  He hadn't heard her slip in.  He opened his eyes to look at her.</div> <div> She'd slipped into the bed next to him, pulling the covers almost up to her chin.  He couldn't believe it.  Beth had always been shy and modest, but nothing like this.  "This music is nice.  Who is this?" Beth asked nervously.</div> <div> Quentin acted as if nothing was amiss.  "This is Chicago.  Yes, they're a great group, babe.  I like them a lot."  He sang along with the song a little, reaching out to hold her hand.  "Beth, would you like a brandy?  You seem really uptight."</div> <div> "Uptight?  What is this uptight?" Beth asked with a tremulous giggle.</div> <div> "Nervous.  You seem really nervous."</div> <div> "Ja, I am.  Nervous.  What was this word?  Uptight?"</div> <div> "Right.  I'm nervous, too, Beth.  But you're glad to be here with me, aren't you?"</div> <div> "Oh, ja!  And you-you are really glad that I came back?"</div> <div> "My God, yes, Beth!"  Quentin sat up and moved closer to her, putting his head in her lap.  Her hipbone pressed against his shoulder.  He could feel her tremble.  "Are you cold?"</div> <div> "Ja, a little."</div> <div> "Let me hold you.  We can keep each other warm."  She rolled over onto her side and let him pull her into the curve of his body.  "Better?"</div> <div> "Mmmmhmmm," she murmured, sounding content.  She moved back a little to snuggle a little closer.  As she moved closer, he felt himself become harder.  <I>Oh, hell</I>, he thought, as his body responded to the touch of her flesh against his.  She'd used a shampoo with a spicy fragrance to it.  Beth giggled.</div> <div> "I'm sorry, I can't help it," he whispered.  "I just love you so much, and I missed you."</div> <div> "Ah, now I know for sure," Beth answered, turning around to face him.  They moved closer together.  She reached down to grasp him with her hand.  "Come here to me, then."</div> <div> "I don't know that I can last long if you touch me like that," he groaned.</div> <div> "Ah, so, I wouldn't think so.  But then we can again later, ja?"</div> <div> Oh, ja, he thought.  He didn't have to be asked again.  Beth rolled onto her back, opening her legs, pulling him with her, and guiding him.  Her body seemed to have ignored her state of shyness and nervousness, too.  When he slid into her, though, she drew in her breath sharply; it was almost like their first time together.  She was aroused but tight as if she wasn't completely ready for this.  "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned.  He didn't want to hurt her, but he also wouldn't be able to stop himself.</div> <div> "I am all right.  Hold me, Quentin, kiss me!"</div> <div> "Here, let's do this."  Quentin rolled off, moving onto his side.  He pulled Beth back toward him, slipping back into her from behind.  He kissed the back of her neck and massaged her breasts with his free hand.  Slowly, he felt her beginning to relax; her breathing slowed.  As she relaxed, she opened up to him more naturally.  He tried to move very slowly, and he felt her moving back against him, responding to him.</div> <div> "Beth, you are my heart," he whispered to her.  He wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer.  He began to thrust into her with more urgency.  He could feel tears on her face as she moved in rhythm with him.  As he climaxed, he put his arms around her so tightly, he feared he might break her ribs.  He couldn't stop himself, thought.  When they stopped moving, all she did was loosen his grip.  "Beth, you're crying."</div> <div> She took one of his hands and brought it to her mouth, kissing it gently.  "My love," she murmured, squeezing his hand tightly.  "I missed you so."</div> <div> <I>Welcome home-and thank God!</I> He thought, cradling her now.  Right now, Petofi and the whereabouts of his family were faraway concerns.  After just a little while, he found that Beth was right.  They were both fully aroused and able to take all the time they needed to fully explore and pleasure each other again before reaching another explosive climax.  They lay peacefully tangled in each other's arms, drifting blissfully off to sleep.</div> <bR> <div> Quentin bolted upright in the bed, shocked out of his sleep by Beth's screams.  She was thrashing wildly and crying out.  He grabbed her and tried to wake her.  "Beth, Beth!" he called.  She sat up abruptly, too, and slapped his face so hard he fell over.  He sat up again and grabbed her arms.  She was still swinging at him.  "BETH!" he yelled into her face.</div> <div> She stopped struggling and screaming, opening her eyes.  She pulled away, covering her face with her hands and breaking into sobs which racked her body.  He moved to comfort him, putting his arms around her.  "What was it, Beth?" he asked.</div> <div> "Leave me alone!" she screamed, throwing him off.  He pulled back for a moment, stunned.  Then he moved toward her again, putting his arm around her again.  She tried to push him away, but this time he was expecting the move and held on to her.  "No!" she protested.  "Let me go!  Let me go!"</div> <div> "Beth!  Do you know where you are?" he asked, feeling scared now.</div> <div> "Let go of me!" she cried, shoving him away again.</div> <div> "Okay, okay, I won't touch you, Beth."  He tried to keep his voice soft and reassuring although he was ready to panic.  "I won't until you want me to.  What's happening, Beth?"  She'd begun trembling violently, and he wanted very badly to go to her and hold her again.  He'd just promised he wouldn't, though.  "Beth?"</div> <div> This time, she turned and looked at him.  "Quentin?" she asked doubtfully.  "Oh!"  She moved toward him, crawling into his embrace.  "Hold me, hold me, please!"</div> <div> "Sssh," he soothed.  "It was a bad dream-that's all, just a dream."</div> <div> "No, it was happening, really happening!" Beth objected, shaking her head from side to side.  "Petofi isn't dead!"</div> <div> Goosebumps erupted along his arms.  "Yes, I know," he said.</div> <div> "It was he-in the dream.  Oh, Quentin, we will pay for being together tonight!"</div> <div> Quentin felt like he'd been struck.  "What?  What do you mean?"</div> <div> "I saw him.  He said, `I have got her.  I know where she is and you don't know.'  And then he began to laugh!"</div> <div> Quentin stared at her horrified, grabbing her by the arms.  "She?  Who, Beth?"  He already knew, though.  He jumped off the bed, already reaching for his pants, pulling them on, and running into the living area.  "Katie!" he called.</div> <div> "Quentin, no!" Beth cried out.  She followed him into the room, pulling her robe on, sobbing.  "She is not here!"</div> <div> "It's the middle of the night!" Quentin shouted, refusing to believe it.  He went to Katie's bedroom door, pounding.  "Katie!"</div> <div> "He has our baby!" Beth wept.</div> <div> Quentin turned back to her.  <I>No, no!</I> he thought, anguished.  He opened the door and went in.  Beth was right.  Katie wasn't here.  No one had been in here for hours.  "Oh, God!" he groaned.  He grabbed Beth by the arms again.  "No, wait, maybe it's all right, Beth!  She knew we wanted to be alone.  I'll bet she stayed with Chris and Sabrina-"</div> <div> There was a sudden pounding at their door.  "Quentin!  Quentin!"  Chris called from outside.</div> <div> Quentin and Beth exchanged terrified glances.  <I>Sabrina is missing too,</I> Quentin thought, suddenly sure that Petofi had snatched Katie and Sabrina easily as he and Beth made love the first or second time.  He pulled the door open.  Chris was half-dressed; his hair stuck up in places all over his head as if he'd just been roused from a sound sleep.  Amy's face was as white as a sheet.</div> <div> "Is Sabrina here?" Chris demanded, coming into the room, Amy on his heels.</div> <div> "No-we just found out Katie isn't either," Quentin answered, trying not to sound frantic.</div> <div> "They're gone," Amy said, beginning to cry.</div> <div> "Gone <I>where?</I>" Quentin asked, a note of desperation in his voice.</div> <div> The phone rang.  Beth gasped, and everyone jumped, looking at it as if it was a living thing.</div> <div> "I told you," Amy said slowly.  "I told you she was bad."</div> <div> "WHO?" Chris asked, but Amy only shook her head, her eyes spilling over with new tears.</div> <div> Unnerved, Quentin picked up the phone.  "Hello?" he barked.</div> <div> "Quentin?"</div> <div> Quentin felt himself blanch as he shuddered.  <I>Amanda!</I>  "What do you want?" he found himself asking harshly, totally rattled.</div> <div> "Quentin, how could you do this to me?" Amanda wept.  "And in our bed, too!"</div> <div> "Jesus!" he exploded.  "Where are you?"</div> <div> "Who is it?" Chris and Beth were asking.  Amy cried silently; she seemed to know already who was on the phone.  </div> <div> Quentin shook his head impatiently.  "Where are they?" he demanded.  He couldn't bear to say her name. </div> <div> "They <I>were</I> here," Amanda said slyly.  "Katie and I had quite an interesting talk, Quentin."</div> <div> Quentin ground his teeth with frustration.  He could only imagine what Amanda told Katie.  "Where are they <I>now</I>?"</div> <div> "I don't know-you'll have to ask my host," Amanda replied loftily.</div> <div> "And who might that be?"</div> <div> "Oh!" Amanda exclaimed.  "Hold on-he'll speak to you know."</div> <div> There was a pause as the phone changed hands.  "Ah, my dear boy," Adam Collins said into the phone.  "I'd heard that you all were thinking about declining my invitation to dinner tomorrow night.  I felt that would be a very serious mistake on your part, and so I thought to pick up half of the dinner party a night early."</div> <div> Quentin couldn't speak.  The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling and all his senses were telling him to run, run, run!  This was Petofi!  And yet-he couldn't abandon his daughter.  He couldn't.  "I don't know what made you think such a thing," he finally said calmly.  "We'll be there."</div> <div> "Good, good," Adam Collins replied very softly with an evil chuckle.  "It will be a pleasure to see you again, my dear."  The phone went dead in Quentin's ear.</div> <div> Beth was pulling at his sleeve.  "That was someone who knows where Katie is!" she exclaimed.  "Is it him?" she went on fearfully.</div> <div> "Yes, it's him," Quentin whispered, putting the receiver down.</div> <div> "Where are they?" Chris asked, alarmed.</div> <div> "They're in Hell," Amy answered, sounding resigned and hopeless.</div> <div> Beth looked from Amy to Quentin.  "Oh no, oh no!" she cried out.  She went to Quentin, and he held her tightly, trying to soothe her.  He felt her go limp in his arms; she'd fainted.  As he carried her back into the bedroom, he saw Chris reaching out to grab Amy as she, too, dropped soundlessly to the floor.</div> <bR> <DIV ALIGN="LEFT"></DIV> <div> <A HREF="id131.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="22: Enigma at Collinwood"><U>22:  Enigma at Collinwood</U></A>    <A HREF="id133.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="24: Scattered Through Time"><U>24:  Scattered Through Time</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Cassies Writing"><U>Cassie's Writing</U></A></div> </td> </tr></table></body>