Deathwatch - Final Read Online Free PDF Page A

lower." Her right hand lighted on the small thin rubber tube of the catheter.
    "Perhaps it's loose," I said, my mind turning to medical details; if it were dribbling, the uric acid would make her uncomfortable.
    I bent closer. My fingers closed on the flexible rubber, I was aware of the warmth of her skin, I smelled the lingering scent of the alcohol, and I tried to re-insert the narrow red catheter gently--there was a faint smell of violets, as if she'd bathed in a warm tub. I pressed the tube upward…..Violets. Regina…Regina….
    Her hips switched rapidly, and my fingers slid lower so that the pads touched the damp glistening vulva, the folds falling over my knuckles.
    I jerked my hand away, the catheter suddenly popped out, and a small warm spray of urine spurted out. Abby groaned softly. Even with her eyes closed, her face looked narrower. It had the clean lines of an older woman's with none of the smudginess of youth we call puppy fat--
    "She's wet herself. I'll clean it," I heard Ruth say. "There, there, it's all right." She moved forward, her hand smoothing the girl's cheek.
    "The tubing's tricky," I said, lying. "Especially on young girls--they're so--" The words died in the paste of saliva in my mouth. Abby (was it Abby?) was looking at me with a sharp intelligence, her eyes sparkling with a dreadful mirth. My heart was thudding in my chest. Abby's lower lip was caught between her teeth, and I knew, I knew she'd come. It could not be Abby, no.  I felt myself blanch, fought to control my voice. "I'll send Doctor Saunders in to check Ellie," I said, turning to the older woman.
    "All right," Ruth said, nodding.
    When I looked back, Abby seemed to have fallen asleep, and her face was round again, her skin had taken on the clear translucence of childhood. The smell of violets was gone.
    I stared at the small brass circlet of the housekeeping keys at Ruth's waist, they jingled softly while she moved around Abby and the noise sent wave after wave of vertigo through me. I left quickly, shaking.
    Gabriel Wickstrom had told me if I wanted a drink I should hunt him up. I wanted one quite badly--certainly more than I'd ever wanted one in my drinking days at school.

    - 6 -
     
     
     

    " I t's the clothes," Ellie giggled. "Her clothes. It makes it easier for her to come through."
    Abby nodded. She plucked at the frill of cotton lace disappearing in a froth under the quilt.
    The twins were in the nursery, lying side by side and propped on their canopied bed. Now of course, they were no longer one, no longer joined. It was a week after the surgery, they were still bedridden, and Ruth had dressed them--once again--in clean nightgowns that had been worn by Regina.
    "Not just worn-- owned ," Abby said, and I wondered if she read my mind.
    "Can you tell us apart," Ellie added, and they both began to laugh.
    "I only looked in to say goodnight," I said, still standing in the doorway, one hand resting on the jamb. I was aware that my palm was wet, the painted wood a little slick where I touched it. I took my hand away, folded my arms. I would not go in.
    "Scaredy cat," Ellie said. Her eyes, even in the fireglow, were very bright.
    I swallowed nervously. I'd avoided doctoring either of them since that day, but now in the semi-dark of the room, the image of Abby's churning hips floated on the edges of my brain, the sound of her cries were ringing in my ears. Not Abby, I told myself, Regina, Regina, Regina!
    It was Saunders who rescued me. I heard his step, then a second later he was at my side.
    "Go to sleep now," he told the girls, leaning inside the room. "Big day tomorrow, we're going to get you up and walking. I want you to get your rest."
    The lamp was already out. He shut their door abruptly, and I felt relief wash over me as I moved down the hallway toward my own bed.

     
    ***

    "I can't, I can't, it hurts!"
    Tears streamed down Ellie's cheeks. Her small hands were firmly clasped inside her father's blocky palms. He was trying