Run Away(88)

Dee Dee said, “When the Truth traveled to Arizona to find that hidden symbol in the desert—the symbol that is the entire basis for our belief in one Truth—do you know what future it foretold?”

Ash turned away from the window.

“When the current embodiment of the Truth dies and ascends to the second level, he would be replaced not by one man, but the Truth would be unified and strengthened by two people representing all of humanity. A man. And joining him, a woman. A special woman.”

Dee Dee grinned.

Ash looked at her. “You.”

She spread her arms to indicate that he was correct.

“And the symbol really foretold this, the stuff about a man and now a woman?”

“No, of course not, Ash.”

He made a face indicating he didn’t understand.

“This is a recent”—Dee Dee made quote marks with her hand—‘interpretation.’”

“So you know,” Ash said.

“Know what?”

“You know it’s all nonsense.”

“No, Ash, you don’t get it. Like everyone else, I get what I need to out of it. It nourishes me. Knowing it isn’t literal doesn’t make my beliefs a less potent force. It makes them stronger. It puts me in control.”

“Or in other words,” Ash said, “you figured an angle to become ruler.”

“That’s your perspective. You’re entitled to it.” Dee Dee checked the time. “Come on. It’s almost time.”

She started up the hill. Ash followed.

“These jobs of ours,” he said. “They encouraged the Truth to form his new, uh, interpretation in your favor, didn’t they?”

Dee Dee kept walking. “God isn’t the only one who works in mysterious ways.”

*



Simon said, “Professor van de Beek?”

“Please call me Louis.”

Van de Beek looked like his bio page—young, pretty-boyish, waxy, toned. He wore the tight black T-shirt too, just as he had in the online photograph. His gaze flitted away as they shook hands, but he flashed a smile anyway, one—Simon couldn’t help but think uncharitably—that worked on wooing your co-eds. Like his daughter maybe. Or was such a thought sexist?

“I’m really sorry about Paige,” van de Beek said.

“In what way?”

“Pardon?”

“You said you were sorry. Sorry about what?”

“Didn’t you say on the phone she was missing?”

“And that’s what you’re sorry about, Louis?”

The man cringed at the tone, and Simon cursed himself for being too aggressive.

“My apologies,” Simon said in a far more genteel voice. “It’s just…my wife’s been shot. Paige’s mother.”

“What? Oh, that’s awful. Is she…?”

“In a coma.”

The color ebbed from his face.

“Hi, Louis!”

Two students—both male, for the record—had spotted him on their way up the Low Library steps. They stopped to be acknowledged, but their greeting hadn’t registered.

The other student said, “Louis?”

Simon hated when people called professors by their first name.

Van de Beek snapped out of whatever trance he’d put him into. “Oh hi, Jeremy, hi, Darryl.”

He smiled at them, but the bright bulb behind it was seriously flickering. The students sheepishly continued on their way.

“You wanted to tell me something?” Simon prompted.

“What? No, you left me messages.”

“Yes, and when you called back, it was clear you had something you wanted to say.”

Van de Beek started gnawing on his lower lip.

Simon added, “You were Paige’s favorite professor. She trusted you.”

This was, at best, third-hand information, but it was probably accurate and at the very least, flattering.

“Paige was a wonderful student,” he said. “The kind that we professors think about when we grow up wanting to teach.”

It felt like a line he’d said plenty of times in the past, but it also sounded like he meant it.

“So what happened?” Simon asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I sent you a bright, inquisitive young woman. It was her first time on her own, away from the only home and family she’d ever known.” Simon felt something rise in him, something he couldn’t quite describe—a blend of rage, sadness, regret, paternal love. “I trusted you to watch out for her.”

“We try, Mr. Greene.”

“And failed.”

“You don’t know that. But if you’re here to spread blame—”

“I’m not. I’m here because I need to find her. Please.”

“I don’t know where she is.”

“Tell me what you remember.”

He looked down from their perch above the commons.

“Let’s walk,” van de Beek said. “It’s too weird just standing on these steps like this.”

He started down them. Simon stayed by his side.

“Like I said, Paige was a good student,” he began. “Super engaged. A lot of kids come in that way, of course. They’re almost too fired up. They want to take advantage of every opportunity, and they start burning the candle at both ends. Do you remember your undergraduate years?”