No Dominion The Walker Papers - By CE Murphy Page 0,72
me wanted to say no, but I took her hand an’ bowed my head over it, still not ready to meet her eyes. “I’m okay, doll. We’re gonna get through this.”
She said, “Gary,” again, this time with an old fondness that I missed so bad it made my hands hurt, holding hers. I dared look up, to look into blue eyes that time hadn’t faded one bit, even if there were wrinkles around ‘em now and her blond hair had turned snow white. I’d been looking out through my other self’s eyes all this time, watching us growing old together again, but it wasn’t the same as looking at her myself. I wished I knew how Cernunnos had settled me into my own self’s head, and wondered what the devil had happened to my own old bones that had been riding with him for so long.
Wondering gave me a flash of mist an’ greenery, a cool breath of air like comin’ home, an’ then I knew and understood. I was resting somewhere else, safe in the land he called home, while my consciousness took the long way ‘round. More than that, I could feel my memories of riding with the Hunt settling into Tir na nOg’s earth, so that the weight of what I’d seen and how it might have changed me wouldn’t crush me. I’d been mostly immortal all that time, and now I was slipping back into mortal bones that weren’t ready to carry so much time or so many memories. I hadn’t known Horns could do that. ‘course, I didn’t know much about what gods could do, and didn’t figure on arguing with ‘em when they did it.
Annie said, “Gary,” again in that same voice, and I knew she was gonna tell me what she’d said to me the first time I’d gone through this, that there wasn’t any way through this one.
Only this time I said, “No.” Before she said anything else, I said, “No. We gotta talk, doll. We gotta think about what’s going on here, all right?”
She hesitated, then nodded. The doctor looked strained, but he got up when we did, offering support and sympathy, and encouraged Annie to start a drug regime right away. The prescriptions were waiting at the front desk. We picked ‘em up on the way out, and made it to a bench on the street before Annie had to sit down and say, “Gary,” again.
“Listen to me, doll.” I took her hands and kissed ‘em, trying not to tremble. It’d been four and a half years since I’d gotten to do that, by my count. “My girl.” I’d been using those words a lot lately, meaning Joanne, but they were Annie’s first. “I love you, darlin’. Don’t know that I’ve said that enough.”
Meeting her eyes, was hard. She was smiling, kinda sad and wry all at once. “You say it every day, Gary. How often do you think it needs to be said?”
“More.”
“Sweetheart.” She untangled her hands and put one against my cheek. “Saying it more often isn’t going to make this go away. But I love you too. You know that.”
“Yeah.” I’d gotten sloppy sentimental the first time we’d done this, too, but not the same way. I’d been reeling from the fear of losing her, then. Now I had her back, maybe not for long, but I had her and this time I knew what we were up against. “Annie, I’m gonna start talking and you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but you gotta hear me out, all right? I know you’re holding yourself together and looking calm so I’ll be all right, but don’t worry about me. I know you’re shaking and scared inside, but you gotta listen, just for a couple minutes. Can you do that for me?”
My girl took as deep a breath as she could without coughing, and nodded. “I was there when a lot of people got this same kind of bad news, Gary. I’m all right. Go ahead and say what you need to say.”
“Your Pop wasn’t crazy.”
That came from so far outta nowhere that for a split second she looked like I was crazy. Then she laughed, soft an’ breathless. “Thank goodness for a definite diagnosis, then. He’s been dead nearly thirty years, Gary. Why does it matter now?”
“We been through some strange stuff, haven’t we, sweetheart? We don’t talk about it much when it ain’t happening, and I guess it’s died down the older we got, but…we’ve seen things most