daughter.
"Hey, guy, that's a lovely turban you're wearing!" quipped Patsy, referring to Paul's cranial bandaging.
Paul patted his dressing.
"What? This old thing?"
After kisses all around and the requisite small talk, Paul told his family, in toto, about his most recent conversation with Dr. Gomez. The words "heart attack" came as a shock to everyone. "No, I don't believe that. The cardiologist said your heart was perfectly fine. Dr. Gomez has to be mistaken." Tamara sounded more calm than she felt.
"I don't know, Tam. I've been thinking about it and Dr. Gomez' reasoning sure makes a lot more sense than my original hypothesis."
Starr inquired, "And what was that hypothesis, Dad?"
Paul hesitated briefly before speaking.
"My initial take on the events of that night was that I had been in the company of some sort of supernatural presence, one with enough malevolence and power to push me down the stairs." Paul took note of the fact that Starr's face was the only one that didn't register incredulity. "I realize now how ridiculous that sounds and how much more rational Dr. Gomez' explanation is. I'm not thrilled about the possibility of having had a heart attack but I suppose it's preferable to being pursued by evil spirits!"
Paul's lame attempt at humor didn't fool or relax anyone and the room went silent as each person pondered what Paul had said. There was practically a collective jump when Starr finally spoke.
"Dad, I've been having some pretty eerie visions since the night of your accident, including one of you in the plane with me while you were physically in surgery. Just this morning I saw a black cat sitting on the showerhead; I think we all know the stigma attached to black cats. I don't know what these manifestations mean, but they certainly seem to jibe with your first impression of what happened in the basement that night."
"But, Starr," asked Marybeth, "couldn't they also be prophetic of a serious change in Paul's health status?"
"Yes, I suppose they could." But Starr didn't sound convinced of that. She started to say more, but was interrupted by the entrance into the room of a petite, forty-something brunette.
"Mr. Forsythe? Good morning. I'm Dr. Barker. We've met before, only you were unconscious at the time.
"I believe Dr. Gomez told you I would be dropping by?"
Once the introductions and ice-breaking chit-chat were out of the way, Dr. Barker initiated her cardiac assessment. Tamara stayed with her husband; Starr, Marybeth, and Patsy left the room in order to afford Paul some privacy. As Starr turned in the doorway to mouth "good luck" to her parents, she saw, ever so briefly, a halo of black hovering just above her father's head.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Charlie had gone into town for his next dose of intravenous antibiotic.
Cooter had finally completed his ritual ball-licking and was contentedly snuggled into his newly acquired blanket.
The elaborately decorated horses on Marybeth's carousel music box, the one that sat on her bedside table, moved counterclockwise on their base as the notes that comprised Midnight , from the musical CATS , played backwards.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
"Wanda... Wanda, are you there?" Saul had been attempting to contact his receptionist via the intercom for several seconds now and he was growing increasingly irritated. "Damnation, Wanda, stop filing your nails or whatever absurd thing it is you're doing and
"Hey, guy, that's a lovely turban you're wearing!" quipped Patsy, referring to Paul's cranial bandaging.
Paul patted his dressing.
"What? This old thing?"
After kisses all around and the requisite small talk, Paul told his family, in toto, about his most recent conversation with Dr. Gomez. The words "heart attack" came as a shock to everyone. "No, I don't believe that. The cardiologist said your heart was perfectly fine. Dr. Gomez has to be mistaken." Tamara sounded more calm than she felt.
"I don't know, Tam. I've been thinking about it and Dr. Gomez' reasoning sure makes a lot more sense than my original hypothesis."
Starr inquired, "And what was that hypothesis, Dad?"
Paul hesitated briefly before speaking.
"My initial take on the events of that night was that I had been in the company of some sort of supernatural presence, one with enough malevolence and power to push me down the stairs." Paul took note of the fact that Starr's face was the only one that didn't register incredulity. "I realize now how ridiculous that sounds and how much more rational Dr. Gomez' explanation is. I'm not thrilled about the possibility of having had a heart attack but I suppose it's preferable to being pursued by evil spirits!"
Paul's lame attempt at humor didn't fool or relax anyone and the room went silent as each person pondered what Paul had said. There was practically a collective jump when Starr finally spoke.
"Dad, I've been having some pretty eerie visions since the night of your accident, including one of you in the plane with me while you were physically in surgery. Just this morning I saw a black cat sitting on the showerhead; I think we all know the stigma attached to black cats. I don't know what these manifestations mean, but they certainly seem to jibe with your first impression of what happened in the basement that night."
"But, Starr," asked Marybeth, "couldn't they also be prophetic of a serious change in Paul's health status?"
"Yes, I suppose they could." But Starr didn't sound convinced of that. She started to say more, but was interrupted by the entrance into the room of a petite, forty-something brunette.
"Mr. Forsythe? Good morning. I'm Dr. Barker. We've met before, only you were unconscious at the time.
"I believe Dr. Gomez told you I would be dropping by?"
Once the introductions and ice-breaking chit-chat were out of the way, Dr. Barker initiated her cardiac assessment. Tamara stayed with her husband; Starr, Marybeth, and Patsy left the room in order to afford Paul some privacy. As Starr turned in the doorway to mouth "good luck" to her parents, she saw, ever so briefly, a halo of black hovering just above her father's head.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Charlie had gone into town for his next dose of intravenous antibiotic.
Cooter had finally completed his ritual ball-licking and was contentedly snuggled into his newly acquired blanket.
The elaborately decorated horses on Marybeth's carousel music box, the one that sat on her bedside table, moved counterclockwise on their base as the notes that comprised Midnight , from the musical CATS , played backwards.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
"Wanda... Wanda, are you there?" Saul had been attempting to contact his receptionist via the intercom for several seconds now and he was growing increasingly irritated. "Damnation, Wanda, stop filing your nails or whatever absurd thing it is you're doing and
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