Cast a Pale Shadow(40)

The clouds became snow and he slogged along, the drifts coming up to his chest, clumping down his boots. The wind threw pelts of ice against his face, slivering into his ear and down his neck like jagged spikes. And he cried out with the shattering pain of it. "Out! Out. I choose out."

"I'm here, Nicholas," a silver voice called through the snow and the pain. "It's all right. I'm here."

But he is not, Cole thought. Nicholas is not here. It is only Cole.



*****



Every afternoon, Augusta arrived bringing Trissa the bounty of Ruth's morning labor, treats and tidbits to tempt her to eat. To please her and to appease Ruth, Trissa ate, pretending enthusiasm when she really had no appetite at all. Augusta would stay and force Trissa to rest until Bryant Edmonds arrived for his evening shift and come to talk to both of them about Nicholas.

"The hemorrhaging has stopped, but we have to be careful of uremic shock. Abdominal swelling has decreased, but the right kidney still has not returned to full functioning, which is the reason for continued fluid build up. The collar will come off in a few days, but we are not sure that hearing has not been affected." Edmonds' reports had a clinical balance, for every silver lining, a cloud.

"And when will he regain consciousness?" Trissa always asked.

"We don't know."

The police came three times to question Nicholas, quick to walk away when he proved beyond questioning. On the third visit, Trissa broke away from Augusta's restraining arm to chase after them.

"If you want to know who did this to him, if you really care to find out, ask me! You think you can dismiss this like he -- like he was some stray hit by a car. It was m-murder, pure and simple. Ask me! Ask my father, Robert Kirk. But you'd better ask soon. Before I get the chance."

"Trissa, don't" said Augusta. "Go stay with Nicholas, honey. I'll talk to the police." She walked with them to the elevator and gave the necessary information.

When the police returned, it was with the news that Robert Kirk was missing. No one had seen him since the day of the alleged assault.

"Have you looked under any rocks?" was Trissa's bitter response.

On Sunday, Augusta and Roger brought a stranger with them. He was little taller than Trissa, a round gnome of a man with a shiny pate and eyes that were licorice dark and deep with sparkles like those of a curious child.

"Trissa, this is Dr. Lorenzo Fitapaldi from Michigan. He's come to see Nicholas. He has known Nicholas -- he calls him Cole -- a long time."

"Mrs. Brewer, I am so sorry we have to meet under such sad circumstances. When I heard of Nicholas' marriage, I was so hopeful... ah, it gave me great joy. But now this." The doctor's black, wooly-worm eyebrows met in the middle when he frowned. His stubby-fingered hand grasped hers and held it as he peered into her eyes. "Yes, you are one Cole might choose. Let us see if we can bring him back to you."

Hope seemed to flow in the warmth of his grip and it ignited a glimmer of a smile in her. "He... sometimes, he seems so close and other times... Doctor, I'm so afraid."

Dr. Fitapaldi nodded and she led him into the room to Nicholas' bedside. She saw the look of shock that flashed over the doctor's face before he had a chance to dissemble, and her newborn hope faded. Nicholas' face was ashy gray and wreathed in shadows as if death already sighed its cold breath upon it. She mourned the lost animated intensity of his eyes and the crinkle of his smile, and Trissa's stomach ached with unshed tears, restrained by her effort to be brave. "He doesn't look like himself."

"Has he said any intelligible words?"

"Yes, but only in dreams." She stroked the back of her finger on his cheek and spoke softly to him. "Nicholas, an old friend is here to see you."

"May I speak to him?" Fitapaldi asked.

"Yes, of course." She started to step back but he motioned to her to stay where she was and to continue to touch his cheek as she did.

"Cole Brewer. Cole, it is Dr. Fitapaldi. I received your letter. Do you hear me, Cole Brewer?"

"Dr. Edmonds said his hearing might be impaired by the blow," Trissa said.

"Perhaps, but I think he hears us. Watch." He came closer and leaned in so that his face was inches away from Nicholas. His voice was a shade above a whisper when he spoke again. "Cole Brewer, you surprise me with the pretty girl you have found here. Must you leave her so sad and lonely? It is not like you to be so heartless, Cole Brewer."

Trissa gasped when she saw Nicholas knit his brow, a faint and fleeting frown. "Nicholas?"

"Call him Cole. Keep your voice clear and strong."

"C-Cole? It's Trissa. I miss you so..." She jumped when his eyes flickered, almost opening.

"Say it. Say his name again."

"Cole Brewer, please."

As if he were fighting her summoning him back to life, his breath became ragged and there was a soft groan of pain deep in his throat. His frown deepened and his eyes were squinted shut so tightly that deep wrinkles creased the corners. She clasped his hand locking their thumbs. "Cole Brewer."

"Turn off the light," Dr. Fitapaldi instructed Augusta. When the room was cast in only the cold, afternoon light from the north-facing window, Nicholas' frown eased and his breathing became more regular. Slowly, he raised his eyelids and looked at her. But his eyes were bewildered, lost. He straightened his fingers and slid his hand from her grip, looking beyond her to Fitapaldi.

"Doctor, is it my father?" he asked.

"No change, Cole."

Nicholas nodded and closed his eyes again.

Augusta put her arm around Trissa and led her away from the bed. "He didn't know me."

"Honey, he's had a shock. We almost lost him. He needs time."

"He doesn't remember me."

"That is very likely, Mrs. Brewer. Do you know his history?"

"History? I... no."

"Then I think we need to talk. May I take you to dinner?"

"But I can't leave."

"Roger and I will stay, dear."

"Perhaps, Mrs. Blackburn, you should come along as well. It is a hard story to hear. Mrs. Brewer may need the comfort of a friend to see her through it."

Trissa swallowed the hard knot of fear that rose in her throat. "What is wrong with him, Doctor? Will he ever remember me? Why does it seem he doesn't recognize his own name? I've always called him Nicholas."

"You must hear my story, Mrs. Brewer. Please."

Trissa refused to leave the hospital, so they wound up in the cafeteria. Roger stayed up in the room with specific instructions to call for them if there was any change at all. They got coffee and sandwiches, so, along with the goodies Ruth had sent, they had a fine meal before them. Trissa ate next to nothing. Fitapaldi insisted on hearing how Trissa and Nicholas had met and married. Trissa calmly told him the story she and Nicholas had composed.

"Nicholas works in a camera shop on the corner where I used to transfer busses on my way home from school. Sometimes I'd stop in and talk about the cameras. I never had one of my own. Nicholas offered to loan me one and teach me how to use it. One thing led to another and we just decided to get married."

"You're still in school?"

"Yes, I'm a freshman at St. Louis University. I wanted to quit. I have a partial scholarship, but there are still expenses. But Nicholas wouldn't let me. He helps me study. Everybody at home does, and I'm doing better now than I ever did before."

"How old are you, Trissa?"

"Eighteen."

"What about your family?"

"I was not happy there. They objected to the marriage."

"Tell him everything, Trissa," Augusta said. "It may be important."

She looked from Augusta to Fitapaldi. The placid acceptance in his face instilled trust in her. She felt she could tell him everything and he would not recoil in disgust or blame her. But Augusta was there, and Trissa did not want her to know and perhaps think less of her. "I believe my father may have done this to Nicholas. He told me he would if I did not come home. I told the police, but they can't find out anything."

"Have they talked to your father?"

"He's missing apparently. He was never a homebody."

Fitapaldi rose to clear away their empty dishes. When he returned, he reached a hand across the table to pat the top of Trissa's clenched fists. "Trissa, I'm going to assume from the way you speak that you know something of abusive relationships."

She lowered her head to avoid Augusta's horrified gaze. "Yes."

"In your family?"

"Yes."

"And Cole... Nicholas has told you nothing of his background."

"I know he's moved around a lot. He never speaks of his family. He has a whole drawerful of photographs but none are of his family."