The Bird Cage Read Online Free PDF

critical, but better.”
    “Your father? How’s he doing?”
    “He went out to eat, but he won’t leave again tonight. Ready to drive?”
    It was worse for him, she knew. His mother in critical condition, missing brother, worried about his father. It was a lot worse for him. He looked exhausted. They both were exhausted. She had not slept well for nearly a week, and he had not slept at all the night before, and little the night before that. They walked silently to the car and she got behind the wheel and started.
    Driving on Sandy Boulevard, dreading the bridge ahead because bridges were suddenly frightening, talking about nothing, making noise, that’s all it was, making noise, she glanced at him. He was staring straight ahead, not moving, unaware that her voice had stopped. She hit the brake.
    “Trevor! Are you all right? Trevor!” A car horn startled her, and she signaled for a turn onto the first side street she came to. Midway down the block she was able to pull in at the curb. “Trevor, please, wake up!” She undid her seat belt, twisted around to shake him. He did not respond. She drew back, staring at his immobilized figure. He was sitting upright, his gaze fixed, unmoving.
    Without warning, she began to weep, to sob, with her head against the steering wheel, clutching it hard with both hands. Her paroxysm of sobs eased and she groped in her bag for tissues. They couldn’t be alone, she thought in despair. They would need keepers, attendants. Be put away in institutions. No more jobs. Never alone unless sound asleep. No more driving. Or skiing. Hiking. No more life.
    She leaned back, closed her eyes and waited for him to wake up, to come back. She didn’t know how long it took before she sensed that he had moved, pulled against his seat belt or something. He made a choked sound, almost a sob.
    She reached for his arm, and this time he turned toward her with a strangely blank expression. “Snap out of it,” she said. “It’s okay now. You’re okay now.”
    He blinked rapidly, rubbed his eyes, then said, “Again. I did it again, didn’t I?”
    “It’s over now. Are you all right?”
    “Jesus!” he said. “Drive, Jean. Get back to my place. I’m okay now.” In a lower voice as despairing as her own thoughts were, he said, “It happened again.”

    They had ordered take out burritos and found that neither of them was interested in food. It was dusk, the endless day closing down, she thought, listening to him on the phone again. “Sorry to bother you,” he said and disconnected. He punched in the next number.
    He had not talked about his flashback, nor had she asked any questions. It didn’t matter what it had been. None of that mattered. Reliving the past, experiencing long forgotten incidents, it didn’t matter. What was terrifying was that they were experiencing Cody’s past, feeling his pain, his fear as well as their own. That was impossible, and it was terrifying.
    “Mike?” Trevor said. “My name is Trevor McCrutchen and I have to find my brother Cody. It’s extremely urgent that I find him. Can you help me?”
    He listened a moment, then said, “It’s a family crisis. Our mother is in intensive care following an accident. She is in very critical condition. He has to be told.”
    Jean bolted up in her chair where she had been slouched.
    Trevor nodded to her and grabbed a notebook from across the table as he listened to the man on the phone.
    “I don’t know what he’s doing,” Mike was saying. “He was taken inside, off the grounds, on special assignment for Dr. Sumner and Dr. Wooten. One of them can probably reach him for you. Gee, Mr. McCrutchen, I’m sorry to hear about your mother. Sure, Cody would want to be there with you, a time like this. Let me give you their numbers.”
    Trevor wrote the names and numbers, thanked Mike and put the phone down. His hands were sweating. “The Markham Research Group,” he said hoarsely. “He was working there, but now he’s doing