“What I said earlier,” he began, “about choices echoing themselves, and events repeating—”
He took in the figures walking along Main Street, rendered insubstantial by dusk.
“When Louis and I first met you, back when Susan and Jennifer were still alive, we felt like we could trust you, which made no sense, given that you were police and we were—”
“Not police,” I finished.
“Definitely not police.Louis was more hesitant, but then, he had more to be hesitant about.Over the years, that trust has never wavered.If anything, it’s grown stronger.”
“Likewise,” I said.
“I have no doubt that we knew one another before, we three,” said Angel.“Louis and I were drawn to you more than thirty years ago, and you to us, but it wasn’t the first time; and I think we’ve died for you, more than once, and we’ll die for you again.Don’t ask me how I can be sure of that, because the answer would be to do with feeling, not reason.But I know it to be true.”
“And Louis has had similar thoughts,” I said, “independent of you.”
“Not just similar thoughts.Jennifer came to him as well, the same night she visited me.Unless too many years of intimacy has led to us sharing dreams—and I sincerely hope that’s not the case, because I know how darkly Louis dreams—incidents are starting to come to the surface.Call them hidden memories.But when I try to focus on them, they submerge: not all the way down, but deep enough that I can only catch flashes.I think they need to rise in their own time.They can’t be forced.If wepush too hard, they’ll sink to the bottom and we may never be able to find them again.”
Angel fixed his gaze on me.His eyes were very black.I could not recall them ever being so lightless, so old; and I thought that were I to be permitted to see my own eyes at the moment, they might have resembled his.
“Who are we?”he asked.
Chapter 26
The empty coffee cups were set aside.We each ordered a glass of red wine.I would not finish mine, not with the drive back to Portland ahead of me, but I wanted the taste of it and the weight of a glass in my hand.Our server did not try to hurry us along, though the restaurant was almost full and I could see people waiting for tables by the door.At times, the intensity of a conversation will communicate itself to others and they will know better than to disturb its flow.
“This is a cycle,” said Angel.“It repeats itself, over and over.We’re trapped in it, and we don’t even understand why.”
“It’s a punishment,” I said.
Jennifer had said as much, when last she spoke to me.
i should have hidden myself better
i should have hidden us both
Why?
because now they may try to reset the machine
What machine?
the punishment machine
“A punishment for what?”Angel asked.“What did we do?”
But when I asked Jennifer the same question, she refused to answer.I believed that Angel might be right, and the issue should not be forced.If we waited, it might emerge.But waiting required time, time we might not be given.
they may try to reset the machine
the punishment machine
“Something has changed,” I said.“That’s why you’re starting to remember, and why Jennifer has visited each of us.The machine is out of sync.The cycle isn’t repeating as it should.”
“If that’s true, what about you?”said Angel.“What else do you remember?”
I reached for my glass but my fingers missed it by a fraction, knocking it over.I watched the wine spread across the tablecloth as the spell over our table was broken.The server bustled across to deal with the mess.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
