CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Two days later, Michael drove Selene out to St. Charles Parish to the river levee. Long walks were the only thing that soothed the leg cramps that plagued her at night. They strolled beneath the span of the Luling Bridge, cars racing above their heads. The Mississippi River toiled by, on a muddy route to the Gulf of Mexico. Sunlight glinted off of its deep brown current. Blue jays, mockingbirds and crows taunted one another from the oak trees that ran alongside River Road. They walked the levee from Destrehan to St. Rose, Norco and back. Although it was November, the Louisiana weather was warm and sunny, unlike the days of sleet and frost beginning back in Budapest.
Michael joined a group of children playing basketball at the small playground where he had parked the car. He handed Selene his sunglasses and keys. "Let me show you how it's done, gentlemen" he said as they tossed him the ball. He gave Selene a lopsided grin and whispered, "I'll go easy on them, no mad lycan speed." For over an hour, he gave in to his love of the game. An enthusiastic mentor, he taught even the youngest among them some of his skill. In a dramatic end to the match, he deliberately missed his final lay-up and fell to his knees, slapping the ground in agony. He walked away amid shouts of 'old man.' He chuckled off and on all the way back into the city. He made Selene smile with his outrageously off-key and obscene accompaniment to the radio. The more she smiled, the more inventive and explicit his improvisations became.
When he turned the car onto St. Charles Avenue, he said very lightly, "You look tired, why don't I take you home?"
Selene cut her eyes over to him, instantly on guard. She started to open her mouth, but then reconsidered. She didn't say anything when he stopped in front of the house and leaned across her to open the car door. She still didn't say anything when he casually invented an errand that needed his attention. She stood on the sidewalk, his lie still ringing in her ears as he drove away. When his car turned back toward the streetcar line, her shoulders sagged and she sighed. She went into the house and shut the door.
Many hours later, a noise woke her from a thin and troubled sleep. She sat up in the darkness, pushed her hair out of her face. The mantle clock ticked loudly into the silence. She took a deep breath and wondered why she'd fallen asleep in the parlor yet again. At the same time she wondered why she was alone…yet again. She heard the noise a second time. Something was struggling in the back garden. She couldn't quite identify the sound. She rose and walked down the hall, through the kitchen and straight out onto the back porch. A brisk wind was stirring the banana trees that grew along the back edge of the property, against the brick fence. Someone was crouched there, heaving and retching. She gasped when she realized it was Michael.
She flew down the steps and knelt beside him. "Good God," she cried. "What's happened to you?"
She took his arm as he struggled to stand, pushing her hands away. He jerked away from her, as if he did not know who she was. He was vomiting a green liquid, which had a strangely sweet, metallic smell. His pupils were large and unfocused. He stumbled and fell into the banana trees.
"Michael!" she gasped. "What is wrong? What's happening to you?" He rolled to his side and then did the most unexpected thing. He started laughing, a harsh and bitter sound. He shook his head weakly and gagged one last time. Then he lay still, too tired to move. He blinked several times and then focused on Selene.
"Well," he said. "That was a complete failure."
"What was?" Selene sat down in the grass beside him. Ignoring the vomit, she smoothed his hair back from his face.
Michael sighed. "The cure."
"If you can't find a way out of this, what are you going to do?" Selene demanded. "Why is this so important to you?"
"I'm not doing it for me or for you," he quietly answered. He pulled himself to his feet, rocking unsteadily. He stepped around Selene and walked into the house.