Page 34 of Clean Slate

Chapter 33

  Carrie had another early seminar, and by the time Brian woke she was up and dressed in the turtleneck sweater and overalls, and the sturdy boots over who-knew-which wild socks. She sat down next to him on the bed and leaned across his body to kiss him and run her fingers over the stubble on his chin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight against him.

  "Do you have to go? Can't you stay?"

  "Have to make a living. You don't have a job. You do remember that, don't you?"

  "I remember you. You're the one who made my dreams come true." He squeezed her and then let her go because she was trying to push herself back up. She looked amused.

  "Did you know you used to sing that song to me when we were first together? When we woke up in the morning?"

  "No, it just seemed like the right song. For the occasion."

  "It means you're closer to remembering everything. It can't be a coincidence."

  He wondered if he really wanted to remember everything. He felt as if he could just start from here. Here was such a good place.

  "Is there coffee yet?" He stretched and then swung his legs to the floor and stood up. Carrie looked him up and down, smiling.

  "First put something on, okay? You're not exactly presentable." He looked down and watched himself rise. Carrie zipped out of the room before he could grab her.

  He went to the guest room, smiling at the thought that it had returned to its original purpose, and put on his sweats and running shoes. Goodbye lonely room. He felt like running. Running and leaping, and maybe even shouting.

  In the kitchen Carrie was sitting on the edge of her chair at the table sipping at her coffee and looking poised for flight. She glanced at the clock every few seconds. Brian leaned across the table and looked out the window. The storm was past. The sun was just coming up and there were only a few clouds against the brightening blue sky. The water on the bay was flat and shining silver in the early light. He poured his cup of coffee and joined her at the table but she was up and moving immediately. She put on a navy wool jacket that was hanging over the back of her chair, and pulled a scarf out of the pocket.

  "Gotta go," she said and came over to kiss him on the forehead. He left his coffee steaming at the table and followed her out into the entry porch, where he hugged her one more time and then let her free. He watched her as she climbed into the car and backed it out of the driveway, braking abruptly just in time to look for traffic before backing into the street and shifting into forward gear. The little VW engine roared and then she was at the corner with her usual rolling stop, and around it in a flash.

  Brian was just starting to turn back to the living room door when he heard another engine start up. He glanced up the street and saw the yellow Mazda ease out from the curb and pass the house in the direction Carrie had gone. The spiky blond-haired woman driving didn't even look in his direction. It was if she had no more interest in him, and now was only intent on Carrie. She turned up the street at the corner, the way Carrie had gone.

  "Oh Jesus!" Brian dashed through the house and careened into the guest room where he'd left his wallet and keys on the dresser top. Except he hadn't. They were on the floor in the master bedroom, in the pocket of the pants he was wearing yesterday. He raced to get them and dug frantically in the pockets, took the keys and headed out the front door. It seemed to take forever to get the garage door open and the car started.

  "Come on, come on!" He backed out and took his chances on street traffic, ran the stop sign at the corner and wound up the hill. Where to go? Carrie would be heading for the English building, and he knew she had a reserved parking space. But he didn't know where it was, so he didn't know what her route would be.

  All the parking places along the curb near the main entrance to the campus were filled. Students were walking here and there and he had to brake for some jaywalkers chatting to each other and ignoring the traffic. There was a yellow strip of curb at the bus stop shelter, and no bus in sight. He pulled in there and leaped from the car, banging his leg on the back fender in his hurry to get around it.

  "Hey! Hey buddy, you can't park there!" It was a uniformed security guard, standing in his way, flat-footed, on the sidewalk. Brian veered around him and raced across the wet grass towards the central quad that he remembered from his run a few days ago. The English building faced it. At the edge of the brick-paved quadrangle he stopped and looked around frantically. There was a fountain in the middle and on the other side he saw Carrie, talking to a young man with unruly curly blond hair and a backpack slung over one shoulder. Relief flooded him and he slowed to a fast walk, breathing deeply to calm himself. He scanned the open space, looking for Katherine.

  And she was there. She approached Carrie from behind, holding her purse against her chest. She had on the same fur collared jacket, short skirt and high heels that she was wearing when he first met her the other morning.

  She reached her hand out to touch Carrie's shoulder and Carrie turned with a tentative questioning smile. Brian was still twenty yards away, and he broke into a run just as Katherine reached into her purse. Her hand came out holding a gun, which she pointed at Carrie's midsection. Carrie's eyes widened in shock and her hands flew to her belly, as if she could protect the baby. The boy she'd been talking to hadn't seen the gun, and started to turn away.

  Brian was almost there, and he kept moving forward. He was almost too late.

  "Katherine! Katherine! No!" It tore out of his throat in a scream.

  Katherine turned her head in his direction. Her face was implacable until she saw him, and then it twisted into a scowl, and she swung around to face him. He skidded to a stop. Her attention was off of Carrie and onto him. That was good. That was necessary.

  "Come on, Katherine. This isn't what you want. Put that away." He tried to keep his voice calm. It sounded like cop showdowns in the movies. He glanced from Katherine to Carrie. Carrie was staring, bewildered, back and forth between him and Katherine.

  He started to step forward, reaching out his hand. Katherine was thirty feet or so away from him now. If he could keep her attention on him he could get to her and get the gun. At first she held it slack in her hand, but then her face tightened in fury and she swung the gun up and pointed it directly at his chest, gripping it in both hands. She started towards him with quick steps. She was a little unsteady in her high heels on the uneven brick paving. He stopped short and held up his hands. She raised the gun a little higher and sighted down the barrel. He froze, waiting for the shot.

  Now Carrie was on the move, a step behind Katherine. She reached an arm over her shoulder and across her neck, and slammed her knees into the back of Katherine's, just as the gun went off. Brian felt the pain tear into him just below his left shoulder. He staggered for a few steps and went down. He lay on the brick paving but twisted his head around towards the two women. It hurt like a son of a bitch, and his blood was draining away from his head, making him woozy. Some of that blood was pooling under his shoulder. He could see that Katherine was down on her hands and knees, and was scrambling towards the gun that had flown out of her hand when she fell.

  She reached out her arm, fingers just short of the gun, and Carrie's boot came slamming down on her elbow. He could hear the snap of bone from where he was. Katherine screamed and rolled over on her back, holding her shattered arm and spinning around flailing her legs and feet at Carrie, who stepped back out of reach. Then Carrie moved neatly around and in close with a fierce kick to Katherine's ribs.

  The security guy had apparently been right behind Brian when he was shot, ready to collar him for his parking violation. He stood stupidly for a moment, looking from Brian to Katherine to Carrie, until Carrie shouted at him.

  "Get her gun!"

  Katherine was in no shape to use it now, but it galvanized him enough to allow him to take in what was happening. He put a foot on the gun and kept an eye on Katherine, while he got on his walkie-talkie. Her shrieks had turned to sobs, and betwee
n sobs she was moaning, "You bitch! You fucking bitch!"

  Brian had been fading in and out, but now he was aware of Carrie, sitting on the pavement cradling his head in her lap. She had jammed her scarf under his sweatshirt and held it tight with both hands against the flow of blood.

  He opened his eyes and looked up at her face. He was dizzy and it seemed that Carrie and the crowd of people who had gathered around were spinning.

  "Nice girl," she said grimly.

  Then, "I can hear the ambulance. They'll be here in a minute. Don't move."

  And he faded out again.