The City of Mirrors
Page 73

“I’m going to die, that’s what.”
“I can’t accept that. There has to be something they can do. Let me make some calls.”
She shook her head. “They’ve all been made. Believe me, I’m not going down without a fight. But it’s time to raise the white flag.”
“How long?”
“Four months. Six if I’m lucky. That’s where I was today. I’ve been seeing a doc at Sloan Kettering. It’s all over the place. His words.”
Six months: it was nothing. How had I let all the years go by? “Jesus, Liz—”
“Don’t say it. Don’t say you’re sorry, because I’m not.” She squeezed my hand. “I need a favor, Tim.”
“Anything.”
“I need you to help Jonas. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. They’re all true. He’s in South America right now, on his great goose chase. He can’t accept any of this. He still thinks he can save me.”
“What can I do?”
“Just talk to him. He trusts you. Not just as a scientist but as his friend. Do you know how much he still talks about you? He follows your every move. He probably knows what you ate for breakfast this morning.”
“That makes no sense. He should hate me.”
“Why would he hate you?”
Even then, I couldn’t say the words. She was dying, and I couldn’t tell her.
“Leaving the way I did. Never telling him why.”
“Oh, he knows why. Or thinks he does.”
I was shocked. “What did you tell him?”
“The truth. That you finally figured out you were too good for us.”
“That’s insane. And it wasn’t the reason.”
“I know it wasn’t, Tim.”
A silence passed. I sipped my drink. Announcements were being made; people were hurrying to their trains, riding into the winter dark.
“We were a couple of good soldiers, you and I,” Liz said. She gave a brittle smile. “Loyal to a fault.”
“So he never figured out that part.”
“Are we talking about the same Jonas here? He couldn’t even imagine such a thing.”
“How has it been with him? I don’t just mean now.”
“I can’t complain.”
“But you’d like to.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes. Everyone does. He loves me, he thinks he’s helping. What else could a girl ask for?”
“Somebody who understood you.”
“That’s a tall order. I don’t think I even understand myself.”
I felt suddenly angry. “You’re not some high school science project, damnit. He just wants to feel noble. He should be here with you, not trooping around, where was it? South America?”
“It’s the only way he has of dealing with this.”
“It’s not fair.”
“What’s fair? I have cancer. That isn’t fair.”
I understood, then, what she was saying to me. She was afraid, and Jonas had left her alone. Maybe she wanted me to bring him home; maybe what she really needed was for me to tell him how he’d failed her. Maybe it was both. What I knew was that I’d do absolutely anything she asked.
I became aware that neither of us had spoken for a while. I looked at Liz; something was wrong. She’d begun to perspire, though the room was quite cold. She took a shuddering breath and reached weakly for her glass of water.
“Liz, are you all right?”
She sipped. Her hand was shaking. She returned the glass to the table, nearly spilling it, dropped her elbow, and braced her forehead against her palm.
“I don’t think I am, actually. I think I’m going to faint.”
I rose quickly from my chair. “We need to get you to a hospital. I’ll get a cab.”
She shook her head emphatically. “No more hospitals.”
Where then? “Can you walk?”
“I’m not sure.”
I threw some cash onto the table and helped her to her feet. She was on the verge of collapse, giving me nearly all of her weight.
“You’re always carrying me, aren’t you?” she murmured.
I got her into a cab and gave the driver my address. The snow was falling heavily now. Liz leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes.
“The lady okay?” the driver asked. He was wearing a turban and had a heavy black beard. I knew he meant, Is she drunk? “The lady looks sick. No puking in my cab.”
I handed him a hundred-dollar bill. “Does this help?”
The traffic was like glue. It took us nearly thirty minutes to get downtown. New York was softening under the snow. A white Christmas: how happy everyone was going to be. My apartment was on the second floor; I would have to carry her. I waited for a neighbor to come through the door and asked him to hold it open, guided Liz out of the cab, and lifted her into my arms.
“Wow,” my neighbor said. “She doesn’t look too good.”
He followed us to my apartment door, took the key from my pocket, and opened that as well. “Do you want me to call 911?” he asked.
“It’s okay, I’ve got this. She had a little too much to drink is all.”
He winked despicably. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
I got her out of her coat and carried her into the bedroom. As I lay her on my bed, she opened her eyes and turned her face toward the window.