Music in the Night (Logan 4)

I struggled with the questions, but it was as if I had fallen into an echo chamber because all I could hear were the questions coming back at me. The answers were like schools of fish swimming in the opposite direction, far, far out of reach and

uninterested in turning back. I could only watch them disappear, their scales glimmering for a moment and then gone, perhaps forever.

My body was sore, yet I couldn't remember why that was either. It hurt to straighten out my arms and legs and the back of my neck felt as if someone with powerful fingers had grabbed it and squeezed for hours. My eyes ached even when I kept them closed. I groaned and twisted to make myself more comfortable and the woman beside me woke with a quick jerk of her shoulders. She looked about, seemingly confused herself for a moment, and then turned to me and smiled.

"How are you, dear?" she asked. The driver turned a little but didn't look back at us.

"I'm sore," I said. "Why am I so sore?"

"Don't you remember anything about what happened to you, why you are in pain?"

I thought and thought, but it was like opening a book and finding it had only blank pages. I turned one after another and saw nothing written on any of them.

I shook my head, my lips

trembling, my tears feeling more like smoldering ashes under my eyelids.

"Don't worry," she said. "It will all come back to you someday."

"It would be better for her if it don't," the driver muttered.

"We'll be needing none of your comments," she snapped at the back of his head. "You're here to drive and nothing else," she added sternly. He cringed as if her words were actually slaps and then he grunted and drove on silently.

Suddenly, there were lights ahead cloaked in what looked like banks of fog. As we drew closer, I strained to make out the shape of what appeared to be an entryway to an estate. It was a very tall iron gate with a wide, red brick column on each side. The light came from a large ball lamp atop each column. The driver slowed to a stop at the gate.

"One moment, dear," the nurse said, patting me softly on the knee. She got out of the car.

The fog twirled about us like smoke. I leaned forward to watch her poke numbers on a pad built into the side of the column on the right. The iron bars groaned loudly as the nurse returned to the car.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Just relax, dear," she said in reply.

When the gate was completely opened, we drove through and began a climb up a winding hill, climbing up out of the sea of fog.

After the second turn, a five-story, gray brick and wood structure loomed above us, rising out of the darkness like the bow of a great ship. As we drew closer, it looked like a medieval castle because there was a large cupola at the center of the roof. On both ends there were dormers with windows that caught the reflection of the light below cast by tall pole lamps illuminating the parking lot. Most of the windows in the building were dark, but there were some dimly lit rooms on the first floor.

When we turned into a parking space, I saw there was a cement stairway up to the front entrance. It was really too dark to see much of the grounds, but I could make out some large weeping willow trees to the right. They looked like giants with their heads bowed.

"What is this place?" I asked. The sight of it had stirred no memory, recent or otherwise.

"It's sort of a hospital," the nurse replied with a small, but quick smile. The driver snorted. She glared at him a moment and then turned back to me. "You'll be well looked after here," she said.

"Is this where I live?" I asked.

"For now," she said.

She got out and came around the car to open my door and help me out. The driver remained behind, slouching down and lowering his chin to his chest. The nurse knocked on the window and he lowered it.

"I'm not going to be that long," she told him, but he didn't act as if he heard her or cared. She turned back to me. "Come along, dear."

She led me toward the stairs. There was an iron railing on the right. I held on to it as we climbed the steps because I felt a little dizzy. When we reached the front entrance, she pressed the buzzer and then looked at me and flashed another snapshot of a smile.

The doors looked heavy and thick. They were tall and wide and had no windows. I leaned back and looked up at the roof. I thought I saw a bat fly from one end to the other. It was so quiet and the air was very moist and enveloping. I could practically see the droplets of moisture dancing like small fairies around us. Off to the right, a streak of lightning sliced through the blackness, and then instantly disappeared. My stomach felt as if it were filled with broken glass. I felt so lost, so detached, floating in space, longing for the pull of gravity to bring me back to earth, back home, back to my name.

We waited and waited. Finally, the door opened and a tall, lean man with hair that looked like it couldn't decide whether to be red or blond stood before us. He, too, wore a white uniform. He looked very sleepy, his eyelids drooping. He seemed to be in his twenties and had freckles all over his cheeks and forehead, even on his lips.

"Weren't you expecting us, Billy?" the nurse asked him gruffly.