Read Online Harbinger by Jack Skillingstead - Free Book Online Page A

him?” Ulin sounded distracted.
    “What was your deal with him?”
    “That’s old news, ancient history.”
    “So I’m a history buff.”
    “You know something, Ellis?”
    “What?”
    “I’ve never felt better in my life, and I’m eighty-two years old. I’ve got you to thank for that.”
    “You’re welcome as hell.”
    He stood up, the wicker chair crackling. His feet shuffled to my bedside. He smelled like something kept in a closet and brought out once a year for Christmas or Hanukkah. His fingers trembled over my eye bandages, touched them lightly. I flinched away.
    “They’re always blue,” he said.
    “I guess they would be.”
    “The clearest blue  . . .”
    “I hate it when you hover,” I said.
    He laughed dryly. The fucking Crypt Keeper. Suddenly I felt terrible loneliness.
    “I miss my dog.”
    “That poor animal is dead,” Ulin said.
     

    *
     
    After a day of depressive torpor I felt capable enough to do my own puttering. As soon as I woke up I suggested the nurse find something else to do with her day. She respectfully declined my suggestion and told me breakfast was ready.
    “Thanks. I can find my way to the kitchen by myself. I can also find my way to the bathroom by myself, and since that about covers the necessities, you might as well go home or someplace.”
    “Oh, I couldn’t just leave you alone,” she said.
    “Yes you could. In fact, I insist that you do. Good-bye.”
    “But—”
    “I hope I won’t have to get rude again. It’s really not in my nature and it gives me a stomach ache. But I’m cranky as hell, and you wouldn’t want me to get a stomach ache.”
    When she was gone I listened to the empty house for a while, no friendly scrabble of dog claws on the floor. That wasn’t fun, so I groped my way to the kitchen, following my nose, which was following the smell of fried eggs and coffee. Wobbly with suppressed grief, I sat down and pulled the plate to me and wound up dumping breakfast in my lap. It was a hot breakfast. I bolted up, knocking my chair back and shouting something nasty.
    “Oops,” somebody said behind me, and I froze.
    “Who’s that?”
    “Jill.”
    “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. How do you like my mess?” I was irritated that she hadn’t bothered to knock, but I kept it to myself.
    “It’s spectacular. Want some help?”
    “Yeah.”
    I sat on the other side of the table drinking coffee while Jill cleaned up the eggs and toast and whatever else had been on the plate.
    “I fired my nurse,” I said.
    “I know. I bumped into her.”
    “A lot of bumping goes on around here, doesn’t it.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Nothing. Sorry about the mess. I could probably clean it up myself.”
    “It’s all right.”
    Insert uncomfortable silence.
    “Um, want some coffee?” I said.
    “You know I pass your house every day on my way to the clinic. I’m not spying on you. As far as I know, no one is spying on you.”
    “I’m the paranoid type.”
    “I don’t know about that, but you’re certainly the suspicious type. And—and not very nice. Sometimes.”
    I heard her scraping breakfast into the trash then the sharp clatter of plate and utensils in the sink.
    Sheepishly, I said, “I guess I can be kind of abrasive.”
    “I’ll go,” she said. “I know you love to be alone. Even those times I slept with you I could tell you wanted me to leave after it was over. After we made love. Maybe I should have left, to make you happy.”
    “I wouldn’t say I love being alone, exactly.”
    A hesitation vibe in the air. “Do you want me to stay? I could call in.”
    “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
    “Ellis, just tell me what you want.”
    “I want you to stay. I want you to sit and have a cup of coffee with me. And I want to apologize.”
    “I’d love a cup of coffee, and you absolutely don’t have to apologize.”
    “I apologize anyway, for being a shit.”
    “I need sugar for my coffee. Lots of