Chapter Nine
"Well, Father, it's Flu, I'm afraid." The small, officious and totally annoying doctor was again in Stephen's presence, and again he found himself in the peculiar position of being angry with this man for merely existing.
"I could have told you that," he said with what felt like sand-paper in his throat. "Now, how much do I owe you for this brilliant diagnosis?"
"As far as I'm concerned," said the doctor, "you don't owe me anything. You did assist with Mr. Temple the other night, after all. Now, I want you to gargle with salt water to help your throat, and to get plenty of rest and drink plenty of fluids. Other than that, Father, I'm afraid that you should have been vaccinated when you had the chance."
"I know, I know. Thank you for coming."
"Your friend, Miss O'Dell, wouldn't leave my office until I did come. She also told me to tell you that she will be with you soon."
"Thanks again," said Stephen, and lay back on his pillows as the doctor picked up his bag and left.
After a minute or so, he turned and looked at the small clock radio on the bedside table. It was just after eleven o'clock in the morning, and all he wanted to do now was sleep. Last night had passed far too slowly. Not only had he spent his time alternately sweating and shivering, but he had had very confusing and disturbing dreams which still haunted him. He also fancied that he heard elements of the ritual to exercise the room where the dead man had stayed, and then he had felt a strange moment of being suspended immovably in a void place of neither day nor night, and he thought he heard the Conjure Woman's voice calling his name, but no matter what he did, he could not make his limbs stir to come to her.
After a while, however, this strange feeling of physical and spiritual paralysis seemed to pass off, and he put it down to the odd perceptual tricks that his fever, which had moved from slight to high by now, was playing on him. As he recalled that moment in the light of day, he remembered managing to touch the cross which had belonged to his uncle. He wore it around his neck now, and during that moment of non-being, he had a flash of awareness which made him grasp it in his hand, and he realized that this was what had helped him to focus himself.
"Maybe it really is a touchstone for the Conjure Woman," he said to himself, suddenly deciding to get up and to try to shave himself in preparation for Kathleen's arrival.
His whole body ached, and he found himself dizzy as he crossed the room, and as he tried to grasp his razor, he found that his hand shook too much for him to use it properly.
"Oh God," he moaned as he managed to wash his face. "So far this trip has been a bust!"
"A bust?" Stephen almost jumped out of his skin as he caught Kathleen's reflection in the mirror of the medicine-chest.
"How did you get in here?"
"I asked for a key. I thought you shouldn't have to get up and open the door."
"Oh, well, that was kind of you," he said, moving totteringly toward the bed again.
"I won't keep you long," said Kathleen. "Did that fop of a doctor finally come for you?"
"You find him annoying as well? I thought I was being uncharitable."
"Well, I don't like his eyes. They look shifty, untrustworthy."
"I just find him far too deferential and yet also condescending."
"You got all that from this visit?"
"No no," said Stephen, beginning to cough. "I dealt with him when Bill Temple--when he died."
"Well, I am sorry I sent you such a trying person, but the hotel staff recommended him."
"It was a nice gesture, Kathleen. Thank you."
"I'm not the only one who cares about your well-being," she said mysteriously. "I come bearing gifts!"
Stephen noticed for the first time that a bunch of parcels were standing in the corner near the door. Kathleen went to them and brought them out one by one. There were various kinds of bottled fruit juice, several bottles of water, and some vials of powder.
"This stuff's from a friend of yours," she said, taking one of the vials and showing it to him. "I met her rather unexpectedly last night. I'm supposed to boil some water and drop this stuff into it. She says it will help you to get a good sleep."
"You met the Conjure Woman?" Stephen found himself coughing again and was barely able to get the words out.
"Yes," said Kathleen. "Believe it or not, I almost tripped over her."
Stephen listened quietly while Kathleen told the story of her night's adventure and boiled water in his in-room coffee-maker.
"So she's alright now?" he said as she brewed the hot sleeping-draught.
"Yes. She didn't tell me specifics of what happened, but she did say that it had to do with Jacques Eloi des Mondes, and she urged me to leave and to forget about Julia, stating that I could end up like Bill Temple if I stayed."
"She really said that?"
"Yes, but I made her understand that I'm Julia's friend as well as her assistant. I'm staying."
Stephen sat on the edge of the bed as Kathleen handed him the cup.
"So where is she now?"
"She left early this morning and she actually took me to her cabin. That's where I got this stuff from, and where she and I talked some more. She thinks that you will be of assistance in helping to rid Maljardin of this evil presence."
"As far as I'm concerned," said Stephen, "I've got what I came for. As soon as I'm better, I'm leaving here. She asked me to stay when I first met with her, but I can't see what else I'm supposed to learn from her."
"I can think of one thing," said Kathleen, beginning to sort the various bottles and such she had brought with her so that he could get at them easily. "Do you even know her name?"
"Her name?" Stephen looked at her in astonishment. "I never even thought of her as having a name, somehow," he said stupidly.
"And what about how she knew your uncle?"
"She said she met him. I don't understand how she could have been alive in 1969, but I suspect she met him here before he went to Maljardin, and then somehow saw him fall to his death."
"I think the question you should be asking is not how she could have been alive then, but how she could be alive now," said Kathleen. "Think about it! How could some random person have just come to Maljardin without Jean Paul Desmond's permission? You've read your uncle's words about how much of a control-freak he was."
"But everyone died, or almost everyone," he said. "You told me that."
"That's true," said Kathleen, "but do you remember the last person who held the title of Conjure Woman? Your uncle mentioned it. Look!"
She finished putting the groceries she had brought in order and went over to the desk. He could see the curve of her neck as she sat down in the chair and pulled the notebook to her. As she flipped through the pages, he felt a sudden chill and buried himself in his blankets. Then, as she found the passage she wanted and began to read, he felt the hot drink she had given him beginning to work, and it was as through a rapidly-thickening haze of warmth and comfort that he heard her words.
"'I had another conversation today in the cafe with Evangeline Abbott. Some of the unearthly air that seems to surround her may be explained by her heredity. She told me that she is the daughter of the local Voodoo priest, called the Conjure Man, and she seems to have delved deeply into the mysteries of her faith. She has offered to let me meet her father. I would not be surprised if she becomes the Conjure Woman someday.' And his prediction came true, if you recall,"
she said, closing the book again.
"Alright, but she died during that weird séance!"
"Did she?"
"If not, then how could Uncle Matt have seen her lifeless body?"
"I think she's the one to answer those questions. However, now, I think it's time for you to sleep. That drink is definitely taking effect. I'll be back later today to fix you another one, alright? I've been given strict instructions."
"Thanks, Kathleen. And if you see her--uh--Vangie Abbott, then thank her too. Nothing I've tried has touched this fever till now."
"Will do," said Kathleen, and soon, she was gone without another word.
He lay in silence for a long time, feeling a deep sense of calm throughout his whole body, but his mind, which he found had been freed from the tyranny of the fever-phantoms that had haunted him for the past several hours, was anything but relaxed. Kathleen's revelation had plunged him into a bout of urgent thinking, and only the drug's soporific properties slowed it down to a manageable level. Indeed, he did doze on and off, but whenever he was awake, he was clear-headed and could not help thinking about what Kathleen had just told him and contrasting it with his uncle's journal.
Recalling his uncle's words, he thought that he could form a reasonable hypothesis as to what might have happened to Evangeline Abbott if she had actually died. The journal mentioned a prediction that she made which stated that she would die on Maljardin. According to Matt, this seemed to be a long-held belief of hers, and given the increasingly disconcerting happenings of the days leading up to her supposed death, it was only natural that her stress levels would have increased as well. Among other things, he knew, the changing moods of Jean Paul Desmond had everyone on edge, and all the portents and signs which kept cropping up would be enough to make a sensitive person as Vangie surely was totter on the brink of madness. Still, if she did not actually die, then what happened? Or did she die and return from the dead? If Erica Desmond had done so, then perhaps everyone in these islands had this ability.
These thoughts led him to thinking of the sadistic and monstrous things which Erica Desmond had done on her supposed return from death. She had seemed kind and loving, but underneath she had a hard heart and seemed to enjoy tormenting people. What if the Conjure Woman was only pretending to be kind to him? What if she was in league with the evil of that ancient island across the channel? How could he begin to trust her? How was Barrett able to put such faith in her? And now Kathleen seemed to be falling under her spell, and even he seemed to be linked to her through the cross he now wore. What if she was poisoning him with this powder she had given to Kathleen to give to him? How was he to learn the truth?
But then, as he was sinking towards sleep again, he found himself thinking of the Conjure Woman's face as they had blessed each other. She had seen something in him which had brought genuine tears to her eyes, and he had heard the deep concern in her voice when she had described Barrett's failing health. Surely this woman was to be trusted. Surely she was devout in her faith and a force for good, but she had admitted that by some unnamed act of omission she may have contributed to Matt's death. So what did all this mean? The only way for him to know, he realized sleepily, was to meet with her again.
"Just as she said I would," he said to himself. "I suppose I have to stay on a little longer anyway. It seems I'm too curious for my own good."
His eyes soon closed, and he slept deeply until Kathleen arrived to give him another dose of medicine.
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