club for the first time in all the years Gardener had known her. And there was something else in Bobbi Anderson's eyes: the knowledge that her friendship was maybe the last thing on earth that Gardener valued.
Would it make any difference if I told you how much you look like your sister, Bobbi?
No - he saw in her face nothing would make any difference.
' - don't know how bad you look,' he finished lamely.
'No,' Anderson agreed, and a ghost of a smile surfaced on her face. 'I got an idea, though, believe me. Your face ... better than any mirror. But, Gard - sleep is all I need. Sleep and . . .' Her eyes slipped shut again, and she opened them with an obvious effort. 'Breakfast,' she finished. 'Sleep and breakfast.'
'Bobbi, that isn't all you need.'
'No.' Bobbi's hand had not left Gardener's wrist and now it tightened again. 'I need you. I called for you. With my mind. And you heard, didn't you?'
'Yes,' Gardener said uncomfortably. 'I guess I did.'
'Gard . . .' Bobbi's voice slipped off. Gard waited, his mind in a turmoil. Bobbi needed medical help ... but what she had said about ending their friendship if Gardener called anyone ...
The soft kiss she put in the middle of his dirty palm surprised him. He
looked at her, startled, looked at her huge eyes. The fevered glitter had left them; all he saw in them now was pleading.
'Wait until tomorrow,' Bobbi said. 'If I'm not better tomorrow ... a thousand times better ... I'll go. All right?'
'Bobbi - '
'All right?' The hand tightened, demanding Gardener to say it was.
'Well ... I guess .
'Promise me.'
'I promise.' Maybe, Gardener added mentally. If you don't go to sleep and then start to breathe funny. If I don't come over and check you around midnight and see your lips look like you've been eating blueberries. If you don't pitch a fit.
This was silly. Dangerous, cowardly ... but most of all just silly. He had come out of the big black tornado convinced that killing himself would be the best way to end all of his misery and ensure that he caused no more misery in others. He had meant to do it; he knew that was so. He had been on the edge of jumping into that cold water. Then his conviction that Bobbi was in trouble
(I called and you heard didn't you)
had come and he was here. Now, ladies and gentlemen, he seemed to hear Allen Ludden saying in his quick, light, quizmaster's voice, here is your toss-up question. Ten points if you can tell me why Jim Gardener cares about Bobbi Anderson's threat to end their friendship, when Gardener himself means to end it by committing suicide? What? No one? Well, here's a surprise! I don't know, either!
'Okay,' Bobbi was saying. 'Okay, great.'
The agitation which had almost been terror slipped away - the fast gasping for breath slowed and some of the color faded from her cheeks. So the promise had been worth something, at least.
'Sleep, Bobbi.' He would sit up and watch for any change. He was tired, but he could drink coffee (and take one or two of whatever Bobbi'd been taking, if he came across them). He owed Bobbi a night's watching. There were nights when she had watched over him. 'Sleep now.' He gently disengaged his wrist from Bobbi's hand.
Her eyes closed, then slowly opened one last time. She smiled, a smile so sweet that he was in love with her again. She had that power over him. 'Just ... like old times, Gard.'
'Yeah, Bobbi. Like old times.'
'I ... love you .
'I love you too. Sleep.'
Her breathing deepened. Gardener sat beside her for three minutes, then five, watching that madonna smile, becoming more and more convinced she was asleep. Then, very slowly, Bobbi's eyes struggled open again.
'Fabulous,' she whispered.
'What?' Gardener leaned forward. He wasn't sure what she'd said.
'What it is ... what it can do ... what it will do
She's talking in her sleep, Gardener thought, but he felt a recurrence of the chill. That crafty expression was back in Bobbi's face. Not on it but in it, as if it had grown under the skin.
'You should have found it ... I think it was for you, Gard
'What was?'
'Look around the place,' Bobbi said. Her voice was fading. 'You'll see. We'll finish digging it up together. You'll see it solves the ... problems ... all the problems . . .'