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

sugar.”
    “Aren’t you sweet enough already?”
    “Don’t,” she said. “I already know you’re good at charming insincerities.”
    Ouch.
    So I got me a new nurse slash housekeeper until my eyes grew back. No, strike that. I got me a friend. The whole thing still felt weirdly scripted, but I was tired of my own suspicious mind and wanted to rest and make some decisions. To that end, I allowed the situation go all domestic. Jill came by every morning before I was out of bed, made breakfast, checked my eyes, got me comfortably arranged, then trotted off to the clinic. She returned at lunch and again in the evening. The resting part was fairly easy, but decisions didn’t come readily. Maybe I needed to define my choices. Jill helped me out in that department, too. One day she said:
    “Would you like to go for a drive up the coast?”
    “You mean leave the village?”
    “Yep.”
    “Can we do that?”
    “Why not? It’s Saturday and it’s beautiful out. We can go to Seaside. It’s about forty miles. Feel up to it?”
    This was the second week of my regeneration process. I’d discarded my Man With The X-Ray Eyes bandages and the world presented itself to me in soft cotton candy blurs of color and gray scale, painful if the light got too bright.
    “Let’s do it,” I said.
    October and unseasonably warm. The windows rolled down and the wind in my face, crisp and clean flowing behind the lenses of my very dark glasses. Eagles on the radio, cranked. Hotel California.
    “How’s it feel to get out?” Jill said.
    “Scary.”
    We ate clam chowder on the pier. I dumped two packets of oyster crackers in my bowl and stirred them around with my plastic spoon. She hadn’t commented on my “scary” remark but it hung between us just begging for elaboration.
    “You know, this is my first time outside the village in ten years.”
    “ What ? Are you serious?”
    “Not usually, but in this particular instance, yeah.”
    “That’s amazing.”
    “Amazing plus other less appealing descriptors.”
    “Wow,” Jill said. “I mean, I got the impression you didn’t even like it there so much.”
    I slipped my glasses off and squinted at the blurry world then replaced them.
    “I guess it has its virtues. It’s confining but feels safe. Also, I signed a contract. Strictly speaking this little jaunt is illegal.”
    “Safe from what?” Jill asked.
    “I dunno. The big bad world?”
    “It’s big, all right. But I don’t think it’s so bad. It can be a pretty nice place, really. Don’t you like it here today?”
    “I do. For one thing the chowder’s great. Not to mention the company.”
    She placed her hand over mine and squeezed briefly.
    “Would you categorize my last remark as a charming insincerity?” I asked.
    “I don’t think you meant it that way, but yes. I’m sorry. Don’t be hurt. You want me to be honest, don’t you?”
    “Not really.” I smiled to show her it was a joke, though it wasn’t.
    “I think your charm switches on automatically in certain situations,” Jill said.
    “You mean like during a clam chowder interlude?”
    “Maybe.”
    I raised my glasses, but her face was a pink balloon framed in yellow soft-focus curls.
    Back home I invited her to stay the night but she declined, which stung.
    “I really want you to,” I said.
    She laughed. “I know . But I’m not ready for that again.”
    “It isn’t auto pilot stuff,” I said. “I promise.”
    “I’ll come back tomorrow,” she said.
    “Okay.”
    “Unless you’re mad at me.”
    “I’m not mad at you.”
    She kissed my cheek and gave me a soft, brief hug. I spent the night with myself and a recorded book. For Whom The Bell Tolls .
    Pretty good but not Hem’s best. To make it short, the damn bell tolls for thee and thee and thee .
    But not for me.
    The next day my eyesight was marginally improved. When Jill showed up I’d already made breakfast for both of us.
    “They want you to come down to the clinic this morning,”