out. I just don,t have anything yet. And yes, yes, you can do research, of course."
"Thank you," said Jim. "Now I want you to stay in touch with me, Reuben."
"Yes, Jim, I will."
Reuben reached for the curtain.
"Wait," Jim said. "Wait. Please, say whatever Act of Contrition you can. Say it from your heart." Jim,s voice was breaking. "And let me give you Absolution."
It hurt Reuben,s heart, the sound of Jim,s voice.
Reuben bowed his head and whispered: "God forgive me. God forgive me for my murderous heart, my heart that glories in this, my heart that doesn,t want to give it up, that will not give it up, that wants somehow to possess it yet to be good." He sighed. He quoted St. Augustine: " ,God make me chaste; just not today., "
Jim was deep into the recitation of the Absolution and perhaps some other prayer, Reuben didn,t know.
"May God protect you."
"And why would He do that?" Reuben asked.
Jim,s voice came back with childlike sincerity:
"Because He made you. Whatever you are, He made you. And He knows why and for what purpose."
Chapter Fourteen
REUBEN WENT over the roofs back to the motel, and locked himself in. All night long he tried to bring about an end to the transformation. He couldn,t use his computer, not with these enormous claws. He couldn,t read the new books he,d ordered. They irritated him. What had legendary werewolves to do with him?
He didn,t dare attempt to drive. He,d had a good taste of how difficult that was when he,d followed the kidnappers. He couldn,t risk being seen or apprehended in his own car, even if he could endure the difficulties.
He didn,t dare go out either.
No matter how he wished for it, he couldn,t work the change. At least not right away.
All around him in the night he could hear the voices. He,d been hearing them all the time he was with Jim.
He didn,t dare to focus on any one thread of sound now. If one voice snared him, he,d be going out to answer it.
It made him miserable to think that he could have been saving someone from suffering, even death. He crouched down in the corner, and tried to sleep, but that too was impossible.
At last around 3:00 a.m., much earlier than ever before, he did change.
It came on as always with a riot of orgasmic sensation, weakening him into a delirium as he went from beast to man. He watched it in the mirror. He snapped pictures on his iPhone. At last he stood staring at the old Reuben Golding he thought he knew so well, and neither had a word for the other that mattered. His hands looked delicate to him, and he wondered that he didn,t feel a vulnerability as a human, but he didn,t feel that vulnerability. He felt uncommonly strong, uncommonly able to resist whatever might threaten him in this form or the other form.
He was not very tired. He took a shower, and decided he,d sleep for a while before hitting the road.
It had now been two days since he,d spoken with anyone at home, and Jim could not, according to the old sacrosanct rules, so much as tell anyone he had even seen Reuben.
He had phone and e-mail messages from virtually everybody, including Galton, who,d installed the televisions for him the way that he,d asked. Galton had another piece of news for him. Orchid trees. Two very large orchid trees had arrived at the house, express shipped from Florida, apparently ordered by Marchent Nideck the night she died. Did Reuben want those trees?
Reuben felt a lump in his throat. For the first time he knew what that cliche meant. Yes, he wanted the orchid trees. That was terrific. Would Galton order any other plants that he could?
He sent a number of e-mails, confident nobody would be up yet to answer. He told Grace he was okay, and doing errands and handling loose ends at Nideck Point. He told Phil pretty much the same thing. He told Billie he was writing a long piece on the modus operandi of the Man Wolf. He told Celeste he needed to be alone right now, and he hoped she,d understand.
He had to let Celeste go. He desperately needed her friendship right now, but the rest had taken on a nightmarish hue, and it wasn,t her fault. No, not at all her fault. He was racking his brain for a way to disconnect romantically, a way that was gentlemanly and kind.