“I want you to live with me,” Mike said. “So yeah, I had to do that.”
Judy stood. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
She walked toward him. He met her halfway.
I backed out of the room and shut the door on the two of them kissing. My heart felt lighter than it had in days. Of course, now I couldn’t leave the store, but I could give them a few minutes.
Malcolm and I dropped Claude off at our house before stopping for cheeseburgers and heading for the Gunther Node. I ate happily and told Malcolm what had happened with Mike and Judy in between bites. “I’m glad I said something, because I couldn’t stand the thought of them going on fighting,” I said.
“They’re both independent enough I’m surprised they make it work,” Malcolm said. “I would have bet hard money that Mike would never settle down. I wonder if he just needed to find a woman he didn’t feel depended on him for everything.”
“Judy’s definitely not that. Not that she doesn’t depend on him, but she doesn’t have her whole life wrapped up around him—is that what you mean?”
“Yes, exactly that. I hope they’re happy together.”
“And Mr. Rasmussen and Mike are getting along. You know, I feel like things might not be so terrible after all. Is that bad? Given that the world is in danger?”
Malcolm took the freeway exit to the Gunther Node and waited at the top of the ramp for the light to change. “I think humans can only take so much misery before something gives. Looking for moments of happiness when tragedy strikes is normal. It doesn’t mean we don’t take tragedy seriously, it just means we need a balance.”
“I hope that’s true. It’s like what I’m doing in going to therapy—learning to accept the bad things that have happened without letting them overwhelm me.”
“And remembering the good things that have happened, too.”
I put my hand on his knee and squeezed gently. “So many good things.”
Rick Jeong wasn’t in Green 1 when we arrived, but he’d left a message that he’d be back in an hour or so. Just enough time for me to see Sydney. I left Malcolm waiting and found my own way to Sydney’s office, knocked, and waited for her to let me in. Today she wore a flowing dress in emerald green with a colorful peacock embroidered on the skirt. “How are you today, Helena?” she asked.
I settled myself in my usual chair. “Better than I was this morning.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
I explained about how despairing I’d felt over the attack in Toronto and the destruction of the Athenaeum, and how I was happy for Judy and Mike. “I don’t know why something relatively small could offset something as large as the near-destruction of a city,” I said, “unless it’s because the small thing is personal. But I feel more positive, like the Wardens will figure this out.”
“I think you’re right about how we’re affected more strongly by personal things.” Sydney shifted her weight and propped her elbow on her chair’s arm. “Speaking of being affected, did you write out the descriptions of the three events?”
“Yeah. It was…freeing, actually. I haven’t been disturbed by those memories since. But it feels like that’s too easy. If all it takes to overcome trauma is to write about it, nobody would ever need a therapist.”
Sydney laughed. “You’re right, it’s not that easy. But sometimes, giving ourselves permission to relive events in a safe space opens the door to finally beginning to heal. Tell me, did you learn anything new about those events? A new perspective, or a detail you’d forgotten?”
I remembered my breakthrough in understanding why being shot by Malcolm had been so terrible. “Yeah. There were a few things I’d never realized.”
“Seeing things from a different perspective helps break you out of the self-destructive pattern you’ve been trapped in, where you involuntarily recall painful memories. The more you can do that, the easier it will become.”
I nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Tell me about your mindfulness exercises,” Sydney continued. “How are they going?”
“I’m not good at them yet,” I confessed, “and that’s probably because I don’t practice often. But a strange thing happened with my meditation. It’s brought me closer to the oracle, close enough that I’ve made contact with it while I wasn’t in its space.”
Sydney’s eyes narrowed in thought. “What does that mean?”
I explained about the oracle’s presence and how I’d spoken to it often in the last year, and added, “The point is that the oracle exists within the bookshelves of Abernathy’s, but a few times, I’ve meditated and spoken to it while I wasn’t in that space. I don’t know what it means.”
“I don’t know anything about the oracle, so I can’t help you,” Sydney said, “but it sounds like when you meditate successfully, you make yourself receptive to the oracle’s communication. I assume it exists all the time, and not just when the oracular space is active?”
“I think so. I have the feeling it has things it does when it’s not talking to me, and I don’t think it simply stops being just because I’m not there.”
“And what has the oracle said to you during your meditation? Is its communication different from when you’re in its space?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s always the same sort of thing. Warnings, mostly.”
“Then I’d encourage you to seek it out. Maybe it understands more than you think.”
“That’s almost certainly true,” I said.
We talked a while longer about mindfulness and what had happened at laser tag, and when Sydney said, “I think we’ll continue this next week,” I was surprised at how fast the time had passed. She escorted me back to Green 1, where we said goodbye.
To my surprise, Malcolm was gone. I tried texting him, but as usual had no signal. Rick wasn’t there, and the nurses at the central island were busy and paid me no attention. I decided to visit Viv as long as no one else was demanding my time. This was the Gunther Node’s quiet time, when everyone was either going off-shift or eating dinner, and despite my returning anxiety over Viv, I felt at peace.
When I’d nearly reached Viv’s door, it opened, and Malcolm emerged. He seemed surprised to see me. “Helena, come quickly,” he said.
My peaceful feeling evaporated, and I ran the last few steps to his side. “What’s wrong? Is she—”
“Viv’s still unconscious,” Malcolm said. He held the door open for me. “But there’s been a change.”
Viv looked exactly as she had the last time I’d seen her, white and still like a wax figure. Jeremiah stood beside her, his hands closed loosely into fists and his head lowered. Rick held one of Viv’s hands and had his eyes closed. When I entered, he looked at me with those too-young eyes and said, “Viv’s magic is draining more rapidly. There’s going to be a point past which transfusions will be ineffective.”
I felt like he’d punched me in the stomach. “When?” I managed faintly.