THE RHAPSODY TRILOGY

by Inez Paskal

BLACK LACE

Prologue

"Gotta go! Gotta get by!" exploded Mouse as he pushed his way past Father and Vincent.

"Wait a minute, slow down." Father stammered as the arm supporting his cane was jostled.

"Slowed down - back there. Can't now."

"What's so all-fired important?" asked Father as Mouse disappeared.

"I fear he is involved in another project," said Vincent.

"Yes, I think you are right, and I fear it, also."

"Had to get paint for Elizabeth," trailed the Mouse-shaped streak as it whizzed by the surprised pair and back down the tunnel.

"Well, I guess that answers my question, doesn't it?" grunted Father.

"At least it is nothing electrical or mechanical. I think we can trust Elizabeth to keep us safe from Mouse this time," teased Vincent. "However, to be on the safe side, I think that I will check on the newest mural later."

Visiting the tunnel people was one way in which Vincent was filling in his memory. They were eager to help him by answering questions and making him feel comfortable with his surroundings. It had only been a month since his illness, yet he was already remembering much about his home and friends.

Catherine was due to arrive soon, so he decided to wait for her before visiting the newest artwork. Vincent knew it was a special place; he vaguely remembered the murals, but as with so much lately, he needed to experience this place of that person before they became vivid.

Elizabeth wasn't there when Catherine and Vincent arrived at her tunnel gallery. This time it was Catherine who took Vincent through the history of Below. So much of his past life was depicted there. He would stop and touch the painted walls and close his eyes as though he were absorbing the event, reliving it.

The latest work, the one in progress, was being given a special treatment; it had the quality of a portrait. It was set apart from the rest, and a frame was already sketched around it. The painting was still in the outline stage, yet the image of a lovely woman sitting in an ornate chair was emerging from the concrete walls.

"Do you know her, Vincent?" asked Catherine.

"I suppose I do. Something inside of me says yes. I really have no definite recollections, however. There seems to be pleasant feelings from childhood, but again just out of reach."

"Well, I know that I want to see this when it is done. We'll just have to visit Elizabeth often," suggested Catherine, as she playfully tugged at Vincent's hand, pulling him back toward the lower tunnels. He willingly put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer as they walked. She smiled. 'Yes, there was a difference about him, now,' she thought.

*****

There were quick, short raps penetrating into Catherine's sleep. She didn't want to respond, but as she started to wake, she remembered that she had already turned off the alarm once and gone back to sleep. She was staying with Vincent far into the night since his illness; it was almost impossible to tear herself away. The late hours had taken their toll and she felt very tired. This morning, in fact, she tried to get out of bed when the alarm first sounded, but the room took a few spins so she crawled back under the covers. Now, she had to try to get out of bed again, if only to stop that insistent noise.

Catherine steadied herself, threw on a robe, and made her way to the door. "Who's there?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

"Gotta get it! Gotta find out!"

"Mouse, what's the matter? Is Vincent all right?" questioned Catherine as she opened the doors.

"Yeah, sure!"

"Well, what do you want?" asked Catherine still perturbed. She made her way to the arm of the couch and sat as Mouse followed her into the room.

"Sleeping, weren't you?"

"Yes, Mouse. I was sleeping!"

"Time to get up anyway."

"Not the way I feel this morning," answered Catherine as she realized the light-headedness was still with her. "So what do you want?"

"Black lace."

"You're not the type, Mouse," teased Catherine.

"What?"

"Never mind. You want black lace? What for and how much?"

"Elizabeth needs it for Addie's picture. Whatever you got," explained Mouse.

"Let me see, I think I might have something. Give me a minute to look for it."

With that, Catherine went to her bedroom and started going through drawers. She finally found an old negligee which she had not worn in years. She didn't know why she had kept it, but now it would be put to good use. Catherine was also curious about how Elizabeth was going to put it in the portrait of the woman, Addie.

"Mouse, I'd like to bring it down. You can wait for me if you like."

So Catherine called in yet another vacation day and dressed quickly, as Mouse was already starting to poke around the damage that was the result of Vincent's hallucinations.

"What a mess!" exclaimed Mouse. "Vincent do it? He can get pretty messy when he's upset."

"He was sick, Mouse," defended Catherine.

"Or when he's sick," concurred Mouse. "I can fix it. Just have to get wood, bring up tools, find some glass ........."

"Thank you, but I have someone coming today to look at this. I haven't done it until now, because I may want to redecorate anyway."

"Okay, good. Okay, fine, but it wouldn't ya nuthin."

"I know."

*****

They made their way down through the basement and down one level to Elizabeth's gallery. She was painstakingly brushing a flesh tone onto the portrait. It was an amazing work of art and showed what exceptional talent Elizabeth possessed. As good as the murals were, it was as though she had only been playing all these years. This, however, was a serious work brought about by deep feelings.

"Elizabeth, that is beautiful," complimented Catherine.

"Thank you, my dear."

"I brought you some black lace, and I must admit that I am curious as to what you will do with it."

"Well, I thought if I were to put it on my painting of the black lace while it was still wet, it would add a unique texture," replied Elizabeth.

"I should think it would," agreed Catherine.

"Elizabeth, who is Addie and why the portrait?"

"Addie lives down here, just down the tunnel. We have shared this level, just the two of us, since I arrived. She was here when Jacob arrived, and I dare say before anyone else had taken up residence. We don't know much about her, but she has been a close friend to me and has always been kind and gentle especially with the children. I think each child felt he had achieved something great when he discovered her. She always welcomed them and told wonderful stories. She has been very secretive about her origins, but I just happen to know she'll be one hundred years old this year. So I thought I would do a birthday portrait," explained Elizabeth.

"Then this is a portrait of the woman when you first knew her," said Catherine, as she noticed that this was not the portrait of a one hundred year old person.

"No, in fact, she sat for the sketches last week."

"Elizabeth, she can't look like this!"

"But she does, Catherine."

"May I meet her?"

"Just go down that tunnel. You can't miss it."

Catherine started down the tunnel but hesitated. She turned and looked back to Elizabeth for encouragement. Elizabeth nodded and pointed ahead with the tip of her brush.

Catherine felt a queasiness in her stomach and a catch in her throat. Why did she feel that she was going to come face-to-face with herself? She felt as though she were walking into another dimension. The palms of her hands were sweaty and her breathing was getting deeper. Was this fear or anticipation?

Suddenly, almost without warning, she found herself at the entrance of a well-lit chamber.

"Come in, my dear. Welcome."

Catherine stared in amazement, for indeed there sat the woman in the portrait. She couldn't have been more than forty-five, maybe fifty years old. Her hair was black, as black as her eyes, and her full face seemed wrinkle-free. Her hands were slender but not bony, and her figure was robust and youthful. She was sitting in the ornate chair which was being faithfully reproduced on the tunnel wall, and Elizabeth had every detail of clothing exactly as Catherine was viewing it, a rose floral print, long sleeved blouse with a cameo at the neck. All this was covered over the black lace and she wore a black lace veil and black lace gloves. Catherine placed the era around 1910 or 1915.

"Thank you. My name is Catherine."

"So pleased to meet you. It was very nice of you to visit me. Are you Vincent's Catherine?" asked Addie.

"Yes," admitted Catherine. She loved when the tunnel people referred to her in that manner.

"I have wanted to meet you. To tell you how fortunate you both are to love so totaly and so completely."

"Oh, I know that," said Catherine as she sat herself on the floor at Addie's feet. She was surprised to discover that tears were beginning to well-up in her eyes. There was a strong empathy with this woman, and she felt a deep gratitude for Vincent's love, but also a deep sorrow. She wasn't sure if the sorrow came from Addie, or if it was a precognition or both.

Addie reached down lifting Catherine's chin, so she could look deeply into her eyes. A tear rolled down Catherine's cheek as Addie said, "I think I have been waiting for you; someone who loves as deeply as I once loved."

And suddenly, this woman who had seemed like a statue made of flesh and bone became 'human' and started to cry, also. "I needed to see the love which I have had locked in me all these years reflected back through your eyes. I had forgotten the look of love. I only remembered the pain of love."

"So yours is a story of unfulfilled love?" asked Catherine.

"How easily those words came out of your mouth. Words and labels - as if emotions can ever be labeled, as if emotions can ever be that simple."

"If you need to talk about this, I will gladly listen," offered Catherine.

"I have not spoken one word of this for seventy-eight years, I don't know that I can."

"How old were you, then? Twenty-two?''

"Yes."

"And you had a lover."

"I don't know that you and I have the same meaning of 'lover'. I had a great love, totally unconsummated. However, the passion of the love and anticipation only seemed to deepen our bond."

"Yes, I know what you mean. There are times when you think that you are going to actually turn inside-out with desire and passion; the only recourse is to cling so closely you almost become one another," clarified Catherine.

"You do understand! We're on the same emotional level."

"What happened, Addie? What happened to him? What happened to you?"

*****

"It seemed all wrong from the beginning. Not an unusual story really. It happened to many of my friends, in fact. Class was such a big thing in those days. We lived Uptown on Fifth Ave. My friends and I would think it great fun to tease the poor boys, the street sweepers or lamp-lighters or boot-blacks," she paused and said in a softened voice. "Or push-cart vendors. We would think it fashionable to have a crush on one or two of these urchins. Larry sold vegetables. He would come to the back door of the townhouse rain or shine. I would flirt and be quite brazen, making all sorts of advances towards him and then run to my friends and tell all. We would laugh and be smug knowing the class differences would keep him at a safe distance. The games of a young girl turned more serious as I grew to womanhood. I would date all the proper young men, but I soon realized all paled when compared to Larry.

"He had accepted all the teasing and flirting throughout the years. He knew what he was and was painfully aware of what I was. I began to wait for his coming each day. It was difficult with Cook watching, but soom we both knew that our love was growing. After all I had put him through, he was still open to me and willing to take a chance.

"Cook told Father what she had been observing, and of course, he forbade it. This only heightened the excitement, and we would arrange secret rendez-vous - all the more romantic.

"It became more serious as our love deepened, and our desire to spend the rest of our lives together became evident to both of us. I became withdrawn and secretive, so Father had me followed thus discovering our meeting place. He then locked me in my room for days at a time, but I managed to write letters to Larry and send them to him when my best friend, Rosalyn, would come to visit. He would return his love letters with her. This continued for a month, until we decided to marry.

"It was all arranged through Rosalyn. Larry had rented a small farm Upstate and made plans with the minister in his rural parish to marry us. Rosalyn was to call for me. I was to make up a pair in a croquet match.

"I wore what I am wearing now, except that what is black now was white then. It would not be suspect, and yet by putting on a white lace wedding-coat, white lace kerchief and gloves, I would become a simple, country bride. This is what I wanted to be with all my heart.

"The hour arrived. Rosalyn came by, told my father of her need for a partner, and I was allowed to go with her. Her carriage-man left me in the park where Larry was to come for me. I put on my white lace and waited and waited. It began to rain and I waited. It got dark and I waited. I knew that Larry loved me; I knew I loved Larry; he would come for me. And still I waited.

"It was after midnight when I returned to my home. My father was standing in the entrance hall as I opened the door. He had no compassion for the mud-soaked creature who stood before him. His questioning was brutal, and when he finally got the whole story from me all he could say was 'Serves you right. What could you expect from a common earth-dweller.'

"I had never openly defied my father, but that night I stood tall before him and vowed to wait for Larry to come for me, even if I had to wait forever."

"And he never came for you?" interrupted Catherine.

"No, he never came. Each day I would put on my wedding dress and stand before my father. We hardly spoke, but the warring between us was intense. This lasted for two years. Finally, one day he came to me and said that he decided this was to stop and said that he had arranged a marriage for me.

"This I could not accept. I screamed and lunged at him striking blow after blow. He grabbed my hands and yelled back. 'You stupid little fool! Stop this vigil! He's dead, your farmer is dead. I did it for your own good!' He stopped short, realizing what he had said.

"I demanded to know the whole story. He continued. 'Rosalyn began to worry about her part in your little trysts and when you planned to elope, she came to me. She wrote a letter, which I dictated, stating that you had been teasing Larry all along, that you really did not love him, how could you love someone like him and that all your friends were having a good laugh at his expense. I knew he wouldn't come for you; that is why I was waiting when you came in that night two years ago!'

"I was furious, angry to the point of blind rage, but I managed to ask, 'And how do you know that he is dead?'

"My father was beginning to show fear. He had already said more than he had ever intended, and his child was turning into a madwoman. He tried to quiet me, appease me, as he continued the dastardly tale.

"'I went to his far the day before your planned elopement. We stopped the carriage by a field in which Larry was working. The weather was turning frightful as I handed the note to the coachman to deliver. I watched the storm gather in intensity as Larry read the note. His scream of anguish was echoed by thunder. He leaped on his horse and rode off at break-neck speed. Lightning struck a tree as he rode under it. The horse shied and both were pinned under the falling branches. We ran to him, but there was no life in that twisted body.'

"I screamed and screamed. Larry died thinking I did not love him. My heart was breaking, and I willed it to stop beating. I wanted to die if only to tell him that I loved him. I wanted to die. I collapsed at my father's feet. Do you know what it is like to be in that place between life and death, that place of light?"

"Yes, Addie, as a matter-of-fact, I do," answered Catherine.

"I can see that you do. You have been there, haven't you?" Catherine smiled and nodded.

"I was in that place between life and death looking for Larry. He had to know. However, my father and the doctor brought me back. I never saw Larry. I never told him that I loved him more than my own life. I could not die, and I would not live.

"So I changed my wedding dress to mourning dress and remained a shell. I had been betrayed by my best friend, and my father caused my beloved's death. That shell could not respond, it only stared. My father and I glared at each other for twenty years, and when he died I simply walked out of that house and went back to the park. I needed very little to sustain myself, and when winter approached, I found my way into the tunnels.

"As time went by, I began to realize that I was not really alive, nor was I dead. I seemed to have been forgotten somewhere in between. And so I just go on day by day."

"Oh Addie, he knows that you love him. Love isn't bound by this earth. Your love reaches him," offered Catherine.

"Do you think so, child?" asked Addie as she cupped Catherine's face in her hands and once again looked deeply into those beautiful eyes.

Suddenly her mood changed. She seemed concerned by something she was viewing.

"Catherine, be careful. Have faith in Vincent's love. You are too young to die; you have too much to live for - more than you know at this time."

Catherine was feeling uneasy again, but the old woman held tightly to her face so that she could not move her head.

"Beware, child, you are also in danger of being caught betwist and between."

Part 1

BETWIXT AND BETWEEN

The streets were very dark, as the clouds covered the moon. Diana led the way, making sure all was clear and that no one was around. She did not want to think about what had happened that evening; but all she had to was look back at Vincent, and it was all too vivid.

It seemed almost inconceivable that Catherine had been alive and had sacrificed her life, to keep Vincent from the clutches of Paracelsus. And now, he carried her lifeless body, following Diana to her apartment.

This time Vincent didn't go over rooftops but instead followed Diana through the front door and up the freight elevator. He walked through the rooms to her bed. There he carefully laid down his precious burden.

Diana went to him and rubbed his shoulder as he knelt by the side of the bed.

"She is very beautiful, Vincent - and brave. What she did was amazing, and it was over so quickly."

"Yes."

"Do you want to be left alone?"

"I can't feel her, Diana. At least before this happened, I carried her with me; now, there is nothing again. It is this nothingness which is so difficult to bear."

He put his head down on Catherine's arm and silently wept. Diana had been a part of the proceedings, and she was now a part of this sorrow. She could not explain why she loved Vincent, but she did, and she liked and admired Catherine. She had been there in that shop; she had witnessed how cruelly Paracelsus and Gabriel had toyed with his emotions. He was exhausted, but how could she get him to leave Catherine?

"Vincent, it is almost dawn, and we must talk. Please, let's go into the other room. We have to decide what to do now. How do we explain this?"

He looked up, realizing for the first time the complication of having two deaths and two bodies. He squeezed Catherine's hand; it was still warm. Then he lightly brushed her lips with his.

Diana was out on the roof, And Vincent joined her.

"Vincent, how do I explain a body that won't stay dead? In order to get Catherine buried again, I have to call the coroner. What was the cause of death? She wanted to die? She sacrificed herself? People don't die just because they want to. And if there is no apparent cause, he will have to perform an autopsy. I don't think I can go through that again."

"You know, she told me that she wasn't supposed to die, that she may have even been sent back the first time. But she chose to retain the spirit form, so that she could be with Jacob."

"Vincent, you're not helping. What are we going to do?"

"I will have to take her Below; that would be best."

"Anyway we do it, it won't be easy to explain."

"It's starting to get light. I will have to leave." He turned back to get Catherine.

"No, Vincent, it's too dangerous now. Someone might see you. You can leave her here until tonight."

"You don't mind?"

"That's not the point. I just think your chances will be better in the night."

"I'll be here as soon as possible. Goodbye, Diana and thank-you."

She watched him disappear between the skylights and then went in. She decided that what she needed was a shower and a few hours sleep.

Diana walked into her bedroom and passed the foot of her bed on her way to the closet. She stopped, shook her head, took a few more steps, and spun around. The bed was empty! She just stood there with her mouth open.

"I can't find my toothbrush or toothpaste. Do you know where I left them?"

It was Catherine, and she was coming out of the bathroom. Diana couldn't explain Catherine dead. How was she going to explain her alive?

"Oh! Who are you? What are you staring at? What the matter? Can't you talk?" asked Catherine.

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Ummmmm ..."

"Okay, we'll start with your name. What is your name?"

"Diana."

"What are you doing here?"

"No, wait a minute! It's the other way around. This is my place. I live here," explained Diana.

"Well, then what am I doing here?"

Diana felt as though she were part of a Burns and Allen routine. These questions and answers weren't quite following a normal routine.

She asked, "Do you know who you are?"

"Of course!"

"Well, what is your name?"

"Cathy, Cathy Chandler."

"Oh, good!"

"How silly! Why wouldn't I know my name? Where is my toothbrush?"

"Back to that again?" asked Diana. "Cathy, look around. Where do you think you are? Why would I have your toothbrush?"

"I remember; I'm at your apartment. What's your name again?"

"Diana."

"Diana, am I living here?"

Diana really felt strange. She was talking to a dead person. How could she tell Cathy that she shouldn't be 'living' anywhere? What was she going to tell her? What was she going to do with her?

"Okay, Cathy, I'll get you a toothbrush. Why don't you go take a shower, and we'll talk when you get out. Here are towels and soap and a toothbrush. Go ahead, you'll feel better when you're relaxed."

What was she saying. Catherine looked perfectly relaxed. It was she who was unnerved.

Diana sat at the foot of her bed. That's it! She had gone to sleep and this was all a dream. No, this doesn't feel like a dream. Okay then, Catherine is alive. No, she died three months ago. What's left? I'm hallucinating! I'm seeing and hearing things. Cathy is really still lying in this bed.

She stared straight ahead but moved her right hand out and up on the bed. Nothing. She moved it up a little further. Still nothing. And the shower was on.

''This just can't be happening, but it seems like it is. Oh, fine, now I'm talking to myself. Diana, think! What was that you said to Vincent? People don't die just because they want to. Maybe that is it!"

She was pacing back and forth. "I'd better make up a good story. How can I make up a better story than this? Ignorance! That's it! I'll plead ignorance. Woman? What woman? Catherine? Catherine?"

"Oh, my God! Where did I get this?"  screamed Catherine.

"What now?" shouted back Diana.

"This scar."

Well, at least I know that she has a selective memory.

Catherine stood in the doorway with a towel wrapped around her and her wet hair combed back. She looked alarmed as seh touched the scar by her left ear.

"Cathy, you were attacked and left for dead in the park. You've had plastic surgery, and that scar was left. You haven't remembered up until now."

Diana thought that sounded good. She will see if Cathy's memory could be jogged.

It seemed very odd that she didn't remember Vincent or her son.

"Oh, yes. The last thing I remember is someone calling Carol," said Cathy. "And how do I know you?"

"You worked for the D.A.'s office, and I'm a cop."

"And I'm staying with you?"

"It's a fairly recent arrangement."

"Diana, did we get the guys who did this? I mean, am I safe?"

"Yes, Cathy, you're safe."

The phone rang as Cathy headed back into the bathroom.

"Hi, Diana. It's Joe. How about dinner tonight? Haven't seen you in awhile."

"You know, Joe, that may be just what I need."

"Good, good! I'll pick you up at seven."

"No! Uh, no, I'll meet you ... at Mario's."

"Sure. See you there."

"Okay, bye."

Diana thought maybe she could try all this out on Joe. He had to know sooner or later. What could she say.

Joe, a funny thing happened on the way to the closet. Cathy stepped out of my bathroom. Diana, do you know how crazy that sounded? She was talking to herself again.

All Diana knew for sure was that she was exhausted and needed some sleep. Maybe when she woke up this would all be over. She told Cathy to help herself to food and catch up on her reading - actually, the three years that seemed to be missing from her life.

"Cathy, there are magazines in the cupboard by the side of the couch. I just ask that you don't touch my desk or computer; that's my work. Okay? And please wake me up by three o'clock if I'm not already awake."

"Thanks a lot, Diana."

Cathy read all afternoon. She could not believe there were so many things which she could not remember. It was as though she had not lived these past three years.

Diana had left for her date, and Cathy had a light supper. She was bored and tired, so she went to bed. She had intended to take a little nap, as if it was too early to retire for the night, but soon she was sleeping soundly.

It was finally dark. Vincent had been pacing by the tunnel entrance, waiting, so he could leave to go to Diana's apartment. The sooner he brought Catherine's body Below, the better for all of them.

He tapped on the door leading to Diana' loft, but there was no answer. He waited awhile and tried again. Still no answer. He looked in the window but did not see anyone, so he tried the door. It was open, and he went in.

The bedroom was dark with only the one lamp from the living room shining through the doorway, enough light to see Catherine. He went to the bed and reached down, putting his arms tenderly around her.

She let out a scream. He dropped her and growled in shocked surprise as he stepped several feet backwards, falling into a chair. He was in the light from the living room, and Catherine let out another scream.

"Who are you? What are you?"

"Catherine?"

"You know me? Yes, I'm Cathy. Did Diana send you over? You're an actor friend of hers, aren't you? Why does everyone have trouble speaking?"

"Uh ... yes," was all Vincent could manage.

"What is your name?"

"Vincent."

"Hi, Vinnie. Are you supposed to stay with me? Nice to meet you. How did you get in? Have you known me long? Did you just finish a matinee? You know that's a terrific make-up job. Didn't you have time to take it off?"

There was a different quality about Catherine, a quality of innocence. She asked questions openly with true inquisitiveness, as a child might when discovering a wonder. Everything seemed new to her, and yet there was no anxiety, just curiosity.

Vincent, however, was thoroughly confused. He could only stare at her. His fear was that Paracelsus and Gabriel had returned to torment Catherine and him once again. Their haunting had created the cruel trial, which returned Catherien to her body, and had untimately caused her to give up her life once again. The last Vincent knew, he had left her body on that bed.

"What happened?" he heard, and realized the words had come out of his mouth.

"What happened? Where?" asked Catherine.

"Here. How did you get here?"

"Oh, I woke up here this morning. Diana is letting me stay. I should be going home in a few days, when I'm not so confused maybe."

"You are not the only one who is confused," said Vincent as he began to rise.

Catherine let out a whimper and cringed to the far edge of the bed.

"Please, I don't really know you, and you haven't told me how you got in here."

Vincent moved behind the chair. "I will not hurt you, Catherine. I'll keep my distance. I came in through the roof doorway."

"Are you a neighbor?"

"You could say that."

Catherine became more at ease as Vincent spoke. She got a good look at him as he stood there in the light, his size, height, and breadth. His hands were curled over the top of the chair, and she noticed the claws.

"You know, all of that," gesturing up and down, "looks very real."

"I think that I must tell you the truth. Please, do not be afraid at what I am about to say. Nothng has changed. I won't hurt you. Do you believe me?"

"I don't know. What could be so serious?"

"Catherine, all of this is real. This is what I am."

"Really? My goodness!" was all Cathy could say as she looked even closer. "Stay there. Don't move. Please!" she said as she slid off the bed and slowly approached Vincent. She was wide-eyed. "You are truly amazing."

She was standing in front of the chair, tilting her head from side to side. Finally, she reached out her hand and touched each fur-covered finger. She looked up directly into his blue eyes.

Then taking one of his hands in hers, she said, "Come into the light in the living room. I really want a good look."

"Catherine, you don't remember seeing me before?" asked Vincent, as he pulled back a little.

"How could I ever forget you? Don't you want me to look at you?"

"I could not bear it if you ran from me."

"I promise not to run. Lighten up, Vinnie. What difference would it make? We don't really know each other."

Vincent's heart sank as he realized that he was standing before a stranger. It was more than a memory loss; she was a different person. Yet, on the other hand, he was intrigued by her openness, so he followed her into the other room.

"Sit down, please. Can I get you something?"

"No, thank you," responded Vincent as he sat on the sofa. He stiffened a little as Catherine sat next to him sideways with one leg tucked under her. This was something new, also - the two of them sitting on an apartment on a sofa, chatting.

"Did you always look like this?"

"Yes."

"It has to be difficult for you. How do you fit in? I mean, how do people act toward you? Can you work? Do you have a job?"

Vincent had to laugh. "Wait a minute! One question at a time. My life would be difficult if I tried to 'fit' into your society, but I live in a wonderful place with tolerant people, and I work for their well-being and safety."

"I'm glad. You shouldn't have to suffer because of people's fear."

"And you have no fear, Catherine?"

"No, not now. I like the way you say Catherine. You have a lovely voice, even though you are a bit too serious to suit me."

"I've had a shock recently."

"That's funny, Vincent. Diana acts the same way."

They sat engaged in light, good-natured conversation, and the evening was passing quickly.

*****

Diana had met Joe at Mario's, and the evening was going very well. They actually had a lot in common, if they could ever get past their defenses. Joe couldn't help but notice that Diana was preoccupied.

"What's up? Have you got a sticky case? Which one is it?"

"No, Joe, this isn't work. I do plan on telling you, but let's have dinner first."

Diana was still going over the story in her head. She hardly tasted the lasagna, and all too soon Joe was ordering dessert.

"Okay, are you ready to tell me what has been bugging you all night?" asked Joe.

"Well, it concerns Cathy Chandler."

"I thought we had laid that to rest. There were a lot of questions left unanswered. I wish we could have found that Vincent guy."

"Oh, my God. Vincent!"  shrieked Diana. "We've got to go!" And with that, Diana grabbed her purse and coat and rushed out of the restaurant. Joe threw some money on the table and followed.

"Wait up, Diana! Hey, what's so important!"

"This is insane. It's just insane. Things are getting out of hand, and I've lost control."

"Are you talking to me?" asked Joe.

Actually, she was mumbling to herself again.

When they arrived at her building, there were police and an ambulance in the front. They went to find out what happened. One of the tenants had fallen and broken her hip. She was elderly, and Diana had been looking in on her, buying her groceries, and checking on her medications.

"Joe, stay here. I want to talk to her, reassure her. I'll be right back," she said as she handed Joe her purse and keys and went to where the woman lay on the stone steps. But the woman held onto Diana and would not let go. She was in a lot of pain, and even though the paramedicas were trying to be gentle, she was in tears.

Joe realized that this could take awhile, so he walked round in back to the loft entrance, used the key, and took the elevator up to Diana's apartment. Maybe he could get the coffee started. He needed that cup of coffee he left on the table at Marios's.

He got off the elevator and sent it back down for Diana. He poked around at things and finally found his way to the kitchen area. The blue enamel coffee pot was waiting on the stove for him to fill and set to brew. He busied himself looking for cups, spoons, and napkins.

Meanwhile outside, Diana saw to it that her friend was comfortably placed in the ambulance. She stood in the street and watched as the siren started and the red light spun around. The crowd was dispersing as the ambulance pulled away, and she turned to look for Joe.

"Joe? Joe, you didn't ... Tell me you didn't leave me here." Then she remembered that she had given him her purse and keys. "Tell me you didn't go upstairs!"  She ran to the back and took the elevator up.

Dashing headlong into the apartment, she started, "Joe, I meant to tell you ...." But she stopped short as the smell of coffee reached her, the dim lighting and music distracted her, and a smiling Joe disarmed her - -only for a moment. It was obvious that Joe had seen nothing out of the ordinary. She glanced around, trying not to be too obviousl.

'Where could she be?' wondered Diana. 'Maybe I'm going mad, and I imagined the whole thing. Maybe I should just relax and forget about it. No Cathy, no problem.'

However, Diana looked in a closet as Joe went to get the coffee and checked the chair before she sat in it. She excused herself and went into the bedroom and bathroom, peeking around the door before going in each room, as Joe poured the coffee. He watched her strange behavior and just shrugged.

Finally, they were sitting at the table across from one another. "Now Diana, I know that you were trying to tell me something, and from the way you are acting, I think you had better get it off your chest," began Joe.

"Well, I don't know exactly how to tell you."

"You started to say it had something to do with Cathy."

"Cathy? Cathy's not here," Diana said as she picked up the corner of the tablecloth and looked under the table.

"Of course not! What would she be doiing here?" replied Joe.

"Of course not, what would she be doing here?" repeated Diana. "Silly of me to say that." A sick smile crossed her mouth.

Just then there was a noise out on the rooftop. "What's that?" asked Joe.

"A cat, I think," answered Diana.

"Must be a big cat."

"Uh, yeah, a very big cat," said Diana, jumping up and going to the door. 'Why hadn't I thought of the roof?' she wondered. She opened the door a crack and peered through. Standing there, looking out over the city, were Vincent and Cathy. Diana closed the door quickly and stood with her back against it. 'If she couldn't explain Cathy, how was she going to explain Vincent? This was going from bad to worse.'

"Everything okay?"

"Oh, sure ...," said Diana as she sat down. She was just grateful that Joe was sitting with his back to the windows.

She had to distract him, so she asked about a difficult case which had just crossed his desk. It worked; he became engrossed in the facts and seemed oblivious to his surroundings.

Sure enough, five minutes later as Joe was in the middle of judicial details, Cathy walked in the door, went directly to the bedroom passing behind Joe, got a sweater, and back out the door. She was very quiet, noting that Diana's date was still there.

Diana, on the other hand, gulped hard and jumped out of her chair, spilling her coffee.

Joe, not missing a word, reached across the table with his napkin and helped clean up the mess. Diana sat down and just stared.

"Are you all right?"

"Sure, yeah, go on, Joe."

Diana knew there was a real problem, and most probably Joe was the person to be her ally. She had tried all evening, but the words did not come out of her mouth. It was getting late; he would be leaving soon. Maybe it would be easier tomorrow.

"Well, it's getting late. I had a great time tonight. You've decided not to tell me what has been on your mind, haven't you?" asked Joe.

"I simply don't know where to begin, and there is a lot I can't tell you," answered Diana.

"That's not like you. You're usually very outspoken."

"I know, but this concerns others and certain confidences." It was obvious that Diana was struggling.

"Listen, Kiddo, I'm here when you can tell me, okay? Now, before I leave, may I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, in there," said Diana, pointing to the bedroom.

She sighed and sagged onto the couch.

Just then the door to the roof opened, and Cathy and Vincent came in. Vincent went into the bedroom, and Cathy started toward Diana.

"We noticed that your friend left. Vincent needed to get his cape. He left in on the chair in the bedroom."

Diana jumped up and just stared at the bedroom door. She sat back down with an air of resignation, and throwing up her hands she said, "That's it! I give up. Just let it happen!"

And sure enough, it happened.

Joe let out a yell, and Vincent growled in startled alarm as they came face to face.

"What the hell is going on here? What is this? Diana!" screamed Joe as he ran out of the bedroom and straight into Cathy, knocking her off balance. That was too much. He had no words.

He helped steady the 'ghost' and turned slowly. "Diana!"

"Well, Joe, at least now you know what I have been trying to tell you. I'd like you to meet someone," she said as she went to the bedroom door. "Joe, this is Vincent. Vincent, this is Joe Maxwell, and of course, you know Cathy."

"What do you mean? Of course, I know Cathy. Just like that! I see a ghost, and you say 'of course'! And Vincent, I don't even want to think about that one!" he said as he followed Diana back to the couch.

"And the evening was going so well. When did I begin to lose it? Diana, I am seeing things, aren't I? A character out of fables and a ghost. Or maybe they travel together, the specter and the spirit, a new team. Are they gone? If I turn my head, will I still see them?"

"You're rambling, Joe, but I understand totally. I've been talkiing to myself all day. They are definitely here, and I think you had better realize it, because we have got to do something about Cathy."

"Do something about Cathy? Diana," whispered Joe as he sat next to her, "she's dead."

"I know, Joe, but she doesn't."

Joe peeked over his shoulder. They were still there. "Let me get this straight. Cathy showed up today and brought her friend," he said.

"Oh, no," chimed Cathy. "I just met Vinnie."

"Vinnie?" This was the last bit of decorum to fall, and Diana got hysterical. She laughed and cried, all at one time, until everyone in the room was laughing including 'Vinnie.'

When they all quieted down, Joe and Diana were in each other's arms, Cathy was on the floor by the door, and Vincent was on one knee with his head resting against a cupboard.

Vincent was the first to find his voice. "You know, I cannot ever remember laughing like that," he said as little rippling growls still escaped his throat.

Joe started shaking his head as Diana reached up and grabbed it between her hands. "I'll explain all this when we are alone, but for now let's just finish the evening."

"Are you nuts?" yelled Joe.

"Maybe! Are you? Look over there. What are we going to do?" pleaded Diana.

By this time, Cathy had composed herself and thinking that Vincent's discovery was causing a problem, she went over to Joe who flinched just a bit.

"So, you're Joe Maxwell. I really have no knowledge of you, but Diana told me that I work for you. I'm pleased that we got to see each other now, before I showed up for work."

"Oh, yeah that would have been great. I can just see you strolling into the office."

"Do I still have a job? I know, I'm a bit out of sync, like three years out of sync, but I'll try my best. That's not why I wanted to talk to you, however. I really wanted to introduce you to Vincent. He's a little strange but awfully nice."

"That's not quite the word I'd use," said Diana. "But you are right. The four of us are in this together now, so Vincent, come over here and join us. Joe, get used to him. I think we are going to spend a lot of time with each other."

"Joe, I am very happy to finally meet you," began Vincent.

"So, you are 'the' Vincent, Cathy's Vincent. I'll be ..."

"He's not my Vincent," interrupted Cathy. It was Vincent's turn to flinch.

The four sat staring at each other for a few minutes. Joe was taking in every exotic line on Vincent's face, and he kept shaking his head.

"Well, Cathy," said Joe finally turning his attention to her. "You said you're out of sync. What is the last thing you actually remember?"

As she began to answer, the phone rang. Diana answered it. "Hello, Hello. Yes. Who?" she started, mumbling something about the kind of day and why her. "Oh, yes, I'm here. Where? Why not! It's the perfect ending to this evening. Okay! Bye."

She walked very slowly and deliberately over to the little group. She looked at each one saying, "Has everyone recovered from this little shock? Well, it's not overv ..."

"Diana, why are you being so cryptic? Who was on the phone?" asked Joe.

"Are you ready for this one? Elliot Burch is on his way over."

"Impossible! He's dead!" retorted Joe.

"So what? It doesn't seem to mean anything anymore." snapped Diana.

"Who is Elliot Burch?" asked Cathy.

"An old flame of yours," sneered Joe.

"Are you jealous, Joe?" inquired Cathy. She was trying to get a feel for the relationship she used to have with all these people.

"Who me? Why should I be jealous? He's gorgeous, richer than I could ever imagine, and he almost married you. I was always your good buddy; I couldn't even get a date."

"Did I spend a lot of time with Elliot?"

"More than me, Kiddo."

"Do you love me, Joe?" asked Cathy with wide-eyed seriousness.

Vincent moved uneasily in his chair, while Diana made herself busy by rearranging knickknacks on the coffee table. Joe studied his shoes, stammering a bit.

"Yes, I love you, Cathy. After all, you're my best buddy."

"Oh! I don't mean to embarrass anyone. I just need to know about the people in my life, before and since my attack three years ago. Were you in my life before then, Joe?"

"Actually, no," replied Joe.

"Were any of you in my life before then?" inquired Cathy. "How about you, Vincent?"

"No, Catherine."

"So, I've only been involved with you since that night?"

"That's it! I've got it!" exclaimed Joe as he jumped out of his seat and ran toward the phone. "Jenny Aronson."

"Jenny? How is she? I feel as though I haven't seen her in ages," said Cathy as she responded to a familiar name.

Jenny answered the phone, and now it was Joe's turn to try to explain the phenomenon standing before him, who was eager to talk to an old friend.

"Uh, Jenny? I don't know that whole story ... I mean, I've got a bit of a problem ... Well ..."

At that Cathy grabbed the phone out of Joe's hand.

"Hi, how have you been? It's been so long since I've seen you. When can we get together? Hello, Jenny? Are you there? Joe, she's not answering."

Joe took the telephone back from Cathy. "Jenny? I'm sorry about that. Well, actually, it's not a cruel joke. She's for real. I need your help." Joe continued on with the conversation, convincing Jenny that she was needed at Diana's apartment.

"Is she coming over here now, Joe?" asked Cathy. "I can't wait to see her."

"She said that she would be here in about an hour."

"Good!" exclaimed Diana a bit relieved.

Just then the buzzer sounded. "Elliot," chimed Joe and Diana at the same time.

As Diana went to let down the elevator, Joe began questioning Cathy. "So tell me, how did you get here?"

"I woke up here this morning. Actually, I think I've been staying here for a while to keep me safe until the police could get the thugs who attacked me and left me in the park."

"Is that the last thing you remember?"

"Yes."

"And you just woke up here this morning?"

"Yes."

"Oh, boy!"

At that Elliot came through the folding elevator gate, looking much like a street-person. The debonair look was replaced with a seedy appearance. He was thin, and his face looked drawn even through a thick scraggly beard. He staggered a bit as he walked to a waiting chair.

"Elliot," called Diana, "do you need help?" as she reached for his arm.

"Thank you. I just need to sit a while."

It was now his turn to be the object of their stares. However, it took only a moment before he slowly lifted his eyes, and his gaze met Cathy's. At first he did not react, and then he looked around at each face with a helpless shrug and tears in his eyes.

"My injuries were extensive, and I have been very near death. It has been a long difficult recovery. I sometimes hallucinate," he started.

"Elliot, do you remember me?" asked Vincent.

"Vincent! You survived, also. I'm glad."

"Elliot, you are not hallucinating." Vincent stood before him. "We must not question miracles." Then turning he continued. "Catherine, I'd like you to meet Elliot Burch."

"I feel very strange just meeting someone I almost married. I'm sorry. I have no knowledge of that, but I'm pleased to meet you. You don't look well. You were injured? How? Where have you been? They all thought that you were dead."

Elliot smiled and said, "I might ask you the same question, Cathy."

"I asked first," she retorted with an impish grin.

Suddenly the serious atmosphere changed. Catherine once again managed to add some levity to the situation.

"God, you're beautiful," drawled Elliot as he drank in her beauty like a man who had been dying of thirst.

"Thank you. But seriously, what happened to you?" replied Cathy.

"There was an explosion. Gabriel wasn't taking any chances ..."

"Who's Gabriel?" interrupted Cathy.

"It seems that Cathy has no recollection of the past three years," explained Joe.

"I remember reading this afternoon, as I was going through old newspapers, something about a Gabriel being shot on Staten Island. Wow! Were you involved in that?" asked Cathy.

Elliot shook his head in amazement and continued, "You might say so. This happened about four months ago. Right, Vincent? We were on that boat together. There was an explosion as I said. I was thrown into the water badly burned, and all of my clothes literally blown off of me. I was pulled out of the water on the New Jersey shore sometime the following morning more dead than alive.

“I lay unconscious in the hospital for a month. I had no identity, very little recollection, and excruciatiing pain from my burned body. I lingered in a twilight state for awhile, and slowly I began to remember snatches of things. I soon realized that the safest course of action for me would be to remain nameless. I knew that Gabriel was everywhere. I did begin to heal and as I became mobile, I was able to go to the solarium on my own. Last week I read an old newspaper with the report of Gabriel's death. Maybe the same one you read today, Cathy.

“I had to know if it was true, if I was, indeed, safe. I decided, Diana, that you were the one person who would give me a straight answer. And so, I begged some clothes and made my way to a phone. That brings me to my call here tonight."

"Now, that's what I call a good, clear, logical explanation," exclaimed Joe, as he pulled Diana to one side. "Okay, so he was never dead. This I can understand. Do you have as good an explanation for Cathy?"

"Well, not exactly. That's what you and I have to figure out, but I don't think this is the right time."

They looked up to find Vincent and Cathy near the door. "I thought I had better leave before Jenny got here. You certainly don't need to explain me along with everything else. It was good to finally meet you, Joe, and I am pleased that you are alive and on the mend, Elliot. I will be in touch, Diana," said Vincent. As he touched Catherine's cheek and smiled at her, he continued, "I leave you in capable hands with those who love you."

"Thank you for staying with me tonight, Vincent. You're one fascinating man. Will I see you again?" asked Catherine.

"I think so, Catherine."

"Good! I really do like the way you say my name. Goodnight, Vincent."

"Goodnight, Catherine."

He was gone as Cathy followed him partway out of the door. She returned to the room only to find all eyes on her.

"What? Did I do something wrong? Why are you all looking at me?"

"You really don't remember, do you?" inquired Elliot.

"Know what?"

"She really doesn't remember him. As she put it, she's kinda out of sync," explained Joe.

"I wish you wouldn't talk about me as if I wasn't here. I am here, and that seems to be a problem for all of you," stammers Cathy,as she senses an uneasiness settling around her.

Of course, it had been there all along, but Vincent seemed to neutralize it. Suddenly, now that he was gone, she became aware of it. Or perhaps she was beginning to acknowledge the irritating feeling in her, as though she was not comfortable in her own skin. And so it was that Cathy found herself a stranger in a room full of strangers.

"I'm sorry, Cathy. It's just that this is all very, uh, very ..." Joe couldn't quite find the words.

"Well, I, for one, am happy to be alive, to be here, and to have my Cathy back with us," expounded Elliot. "Please, sit here next to me. It has been such a long time. I just need to look at you."

Just then the buzzer rang. Joe jumped up and went to the elevator to let Jenny in.

"Jenny, we have no explanation for this. Please, maybe, you can just love and accept her," started Joe.

"Where is she? How is she?"

"Jenny! Jenny, is that really you?" exclaimed Cathy, as she ran into her friend's waiting arms.

"Cathy! Oh, Cath, my poor darling," soothed Jenny as she stroked her head. "What have you been through? What favor has brought you back to us?"

Catherine stood back and looked back at her friend. "What made you say that? How could you know that that is what I feel? It's as though I have been granted a miraculous favor."

"You have, my dear, you have. Would you like to come home with me? I have an extra bedroom, and you are most welcome."

"I would truly like that," said Cathy with a great feeling of relief.

She was not the only one who was relieved. Diana felt as though a burden had been lifted. Maybe she could finally get a chance to talk to Joe.

"If you'll wait a minute, I'll be ready to leave. I have to get my toothbrush. I'm afraid that I don't have anything else. You know what they say, 'You come into this world with nothing'," quoted Cathy.

With this she ran to the bathroom and came out carrying the toothbrush which Diana had given her just that morning. It had been little more than twenty-four hours since Vincent and Diana had left the loft for the antique shop, yet it felt like a lifetime to Diana.

Elliot stood and met Cathy on her way to the elevator. "I know that you don't know me, but I would like to call on you. Would you mind?"

"No, of course not. I need to make friends, and where better to begin then with old acquaintances," said Cathy as she smiled radiantly up at Elliot. His heart beat wildly as he flushed with love.

"Goodnight, Diana. Thank you for putting up with me today. We were never friends, were we?" stated Cathy, as she stared directly into Diana's eyes.

"In a strange way, I have come to know you, but no, we had never met, and yet we have been close."

"My, what a cryptic statement," said Joe. "Well, kiddo, get a good night's sleep. Don't worry about the job. Just rest and enjoy. I'll get in touch with you." With that he placed a kiss on Cathy's forehead. "I do love you; after all you are my best buddy."

Joe and Diana watched the elevator descend. "She'll be all right, Joe."

"I know. I'm glad that I thought of Jenny. You're right, Diana. We have to think of a good explanation, and you need to tell me what happened."

"Joe, would you believe me if I told you that she just appeared?"

"You're not going to ask me to swallow that, are you?" retorted Joe.

"I really can't put it any other way. She appeared."

"With that I think I'll say goodnight. Tomorrow is another day."

"Yeah! Maybe it will bring some answers. Goodnight, Joe."

Diana turned to find Elliot asleep on her couch. "Now what?" But she got a blanket and covered her uninvited guest, turned off the light, and finally had some peace and quiet.

*****

Vincent returned to his chamber, feeling as he had seldom felt in his lifetime. He was almost giddy. He understood fully what had happened. Catherine had offered her life, the life given to her by Paracelsus. No, this was not quite right. Paracelsus gave her the body; only the Creator gives life. Catherine's sacrifice was a perfect gift, the untimate offering for Vincent's soul. Therefore, she won her case and was granted the perfect reward, the ultimate victory.

She was different, unabashed, and funny. She seemed younger and unencumbered.

Vincent leaned over Jacob's cradle and smiled. "I don't know what will happen, or if she will ever come back to us. But this is going to be the time of my life. I intend to see much of her."

"Well, you seemto be in a good mood. When you left here, you were very somber and intimated (implied) that you would share some ominous secret with me. Have you completed your task?" inquired Father.

"No, and I do not have to complete it."

"Good! Vincent? You have a strange look on your face. Is that a hidden smirk?"

"I cannot remember anyone ever calling me, Vinnie, can you?"

"What?" exploded Father as though Vincent had used an expletive.

The contrast between the ease with which 'Vinnie' rolled off Catherine's lips, and Father's reaction, started Vincent laughing once again. Father was amazed at the change in his son's emotional state and in relief started to chuckle with him. Besides, the thought of anyone calling him Vinnie was a bit ludicrous. The laughter was a great catharsis, and when they finally stopped and stared deeply into each other's eyes, it was understood that this was the start of the rest of Vincent's life.

As Father was heading back to his own chamber, he heard in gleeful explanation, "She fills me with joy, she makes me laugh."

'Oh, no!' thought Father. 'Here we go again. She who?'

*****

Catherine and Jenny stepped out of the cab. Catherine looked up at the fashionable brownstone in which Jenny had her apartment. It had been faithfully restored, and Catherine just knew that the apartments had to be lovely and expensive. She started walking up the steps as Jenny paid the driver.

"Where are you going?" asked Jenny.

"This isn't the way?" countered Cathy.

"No, here!" said Jenny, pointing to the stairs leading down. "You have been here before, you know."

"That's just it, Jenny. I don't know."

Jenny was as puzzled as everyone else by this 'new' Cathy. One thing was for certain, it was going to be interesting.

Cathy followed wide-eyed for what unfolded was indeed beautiful. Jenny unlocked the metal filigree door which led into a foyer. The floor was of mosaic tiles, and the carvings on the two door frames enhanced the rich chestnut wood.

"That door over there is my entrance to the basement; this one is my apartment," Jenny said, as Cathy headed for the wrong door. "You don't want to sleep in the basement, do you?"

Just inside the apartment door was a marble landing with four steps leading down to another foyer. By this time, Cathy estimated that they were about ten feet under street level.

"That's my study," said Jenny, pointing to the door at the left. "It is essential for an editor to have an office at home."

"Are you an editor now?" asked Cathy.

"Of course! I have been for four years," replied Jenny.

"I should remember that. Yes, you and I were going to celebrate something special, you said. What happened?"

"Tom had other ideas. You know, Cath, dumping him was the best thing you did," said Jenny as she opened another set of door and walked through.

"Oh, Jenny, This is wonderful," said Cathy as she entered the large living room that went the length of the apartment to French doors, leading to a terrace.

"Thanks!" Pointing to the left, Jenny continued. "The kitchen is through that door and the dining room through the arch. It also has doors out to the terrace. The bedrooms and bath are off that hall to the right. I'm sorry to tell you that the bedroom on the terrace is mine," teased Jenny.

By this time, Cathy had flung open the terrace doors and was investigating the flagstone floor, brick flower casements, the ten foot brick walls with ivy climbing to the street above, and then another six foot of fencing. The ivy was very thick and made ths a private paradise.

"This is my favorite spot in all the world, Cath. I'm not surprised that you like it, too. Come in, I want to show you your room."

It was the perfect guest room, and Cathy at least felt welcomed - if not quite comfortable. Jenny came in with pajamas and robe, clean towels, and soap.

"Tomorrow we'll see about clothes, okay?" said Jenny as she started to leave then turned and stared at Cathy. "Honey, what happened? Where have you been?"

"I honestly don't know, Jenny. All I know is that I felt a pain, not a physical pain, one that was deep down in my soul. There was darkness, and I woke up this morning in Diana's apartment."

"It's okay, Cath, we'll talk tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Jenny. I can't thank you enough for all of this."

*****

Diana woke up early; she was still rather confused by her nightmare. She stumbled to the bathroom for a long, hot shower and back out to her room to blow-dry and brush her hair.

Elliot opened his eyes when he heard the shower, and lay there watching as all that beautiful red hair tumbled gracefully with each brush stroke. He hadn't seen anything like it since he used to climb into his parent's bed and watch his mother every morning. Her hair was almost the same color, and he smiled at the wonderful boyhood memory.

Coffee seemed to be in order at the moment, so Diana shuffled out to the kitchen. She spun around ready for battle as she heard, "That was just about the prettiest thing I've seen in a long time."

"Elliot?" queried Diana. "Oh, my God, it really happened. I remember now. You fell asleep on my couch, and I covered you with the blanket."

"I'm sorry about this. It's just that I'm not up to much yet," explained Elliot.

"Yeah, I gathered."

"How about another little favor? How about some breakfast. That coffee smells great."

"Sure, join me at the table," invited Diana.

They sat in silence for awhile, each one contemplating the complexity of the previous night.

"You know, Diana, I can't get over the fact that Cathy didn't know Vincent. She treated him the same as the rest of us."

"I know, but I have to remember that Vincent still has all his memories and loves her deeply," said Diana pensively.

"But it doesn't make any difference. I've got as good a shot at it as he does now," explained Elliot.

"Maybe you do, and if that is the case, then maybe so do I."

"You really love Vincent, don't you?"

"I guess I have to admit it, Elliot," confessed Diana. She took his hand in hers as she reached across the table. "But I have to tell you that I think we are both going to be losers in this," continued Diana.

"We do have to try, though, don't we? Don't you know where Jenny lives?"

"I'll find out." She returned a few minutes later. "I called Joe. Here's the address."

"Thanks! Now, can I borrow a few bucks for cab fare? I'm good for it," said Elliot with a silly grin.

"Well, make sure that you pay it back, or I'll come looking for you," teased Diana.

She walked him to the elevator, and closed up his jacket as he stepped away. "You know, that is really beautiful red hair; it's like my mother's," said Elliot as the elevator started to descend.

"Good luck," shouted Diana, but she didn't know if she really meant it.

About an hour later, Joe showed up.

"Okay, in the cold, clear light of day let's talk about this," said Joe.

"There's really not much more to say."

"What do you mean? Let's start with Vincent. What is he? Did she really love him that much? Did she have his baby?"

"No one knows. And yes - in that order," answered Diana.

"I mean, God, is he even human?"

"Nose out of joint a little, Joe? All I can say is that if he isn't human, he's something better. He's intelligent and gentle, understanding and kind. He's ..."

"Okay, I get it. So that's the way it is. You're smitten, too," observed Joe. "Now what about Cathy?"

"You know as much as I do. She showed up, and she's alive." Diana decided to just leave it at that.

"What kind of story can we tell to explain that? You know maybe we don't have to explain it. Maybe all we have to do is play dumb and say we have to wait until Cathy remembers, to find out what really happened. It is, after all, the truth."

"Do you think that will hold up when the questions start?"

"All they have to do is ask Cathy; she'll tell them. She woke up in your bed. You came home, found her there, and have no idea how she got here."

"Why my bed? Why would she show up in my bed?" asked Diana.

"I don't know! Why did she show up in your bed?"

"Oh, you're right. That's exactly what happened. You know, this is one time when the truth just doesn't seem to make it."

"I know what you mean, but it's the best we've got," he said.

"Joe, should I report the incident or wait until she feels more comfortable and makes an appearance. I mean, the case is closed. She's not a missing person any longer. How do we handle it?"

"I don't know. Let me think about it. We would have to petition the court, and there would have to be at least three witnesses to swear that she is indeed Catherine Chandler, so that she can be legally declared alive. The publicity would be something! I don't think she can take that for awhile yet," explained Joe.

"I think you're right."

"I'll keep in touch with Jenny. Cathy may not want to surface for some time. You may be off the hook."

"Jenny was a life-saver. I'm glad that you thought of her," said Diana.

"Yeah, me, too."

*****

Jenny woke up early and decided to work at home. She knew that Cathy would need to have her nearby; besides, she felt like doing some pampering.

It took Cathy a few minutes to remember where she was, when she finally woke up. Her room didn't have a window, so she had no way of telling if it was daytime. The clock had an illuminated face and eleven shown brightly. Cathy thought for a bit, reassuring herself that she had absolutely nothing to do and no pressing reason to get out of bed.

'Maybe a soft light in that corner would be nice. No more than a candleglow,' thought Cathy, as she turned on a light. She went into the hall. "Jenny? Are you here?"

"In the study, Hon. I'll meet you in the dining room. I have a nice breakfast waiting for you."

They sat across from each other and started talking.

"Oh, Jenny, I'm so out of it!"

"Afraid, Huh?"

"No, I have no fear, just the need to know what has been going on in my life for the past three years. I remember the attack and thinking that I was going to die. I could feel myself just letting go, and then I panicked at the thought of being buried, of being under the ground. I wanted so much to live. I had so much to live for, and I was being buried.

"I didn't know any of those people yesterday, and one was my boss, one an ex-fiance, and one I was living with. The only one who didn't have any claim on me was Vincent."

"Vincent?"

"I simply did not live those three years. Can I make them understand this?"

"But you did live, Cathy. You disappeared for ten days and then walked into your apartment. You were different then, too. You left your father's firm and became an investigator for the D.A. You did some good work; you were burning to see justice done. In fact, it was amazing what you accomplished."

"A real vigilante, huh? I don't feel that at all. In fact, I'm not sure I even want to practice law any longer. I don't see just one case. I now feel the human condition. The here and now is fleeting; I need to embrace the unloved and feed the hungry. I can't explain it. The drugs and crimes and killings are horrible, but we are something else. We are part of something much larger, and it is that which I need to embrace."

"My mind is telling me that you aren't making much sense, but I can feel what you are saying," said Jenny.

"Good, because there aren't words for certain feelings, and as you have always known, words aren't the only means of communication. Let me see if I can make it clearer. I met Vincent yesterday. He's a friend of Diana's. He is, the word to use might be deformed, but that is not what he is. That is not his essence. He is exactly what he is supposed to be."

"Whoa! Talk about philospohy!"

"By standards he is fierce looking, leonine with fangs and claws. By standards I should have been afraid of him; I should have run from him. If I still lived according to standards, I would never have gotten close enough to see his beautiful blue eyes, or examine his strong hands, or listen to his gentle voice. But I am not longer afraid - startled maybe, but not afraid."

"Cathy, what are you talking about? People don't look like that!"

"But Vincent does! That's what I mean. There are so many more levels to this life than exist on the street, or that are within our vision. I just see and feel a part of these other levels."

"Oh, Cathy, what has happened to you?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

"Okay! You met Elliot Burch, went with him for about a year, and were going to marry him. This was before you found out about some kind of illicit money-handling, in which he was involved. You called it off, but for some reason he remained your friend."

"Another Tom, huh?"

"Kind of."

"I certainly didn't learn much about men in three years, did I?" puzzled Cathy.

"Well now, to be fair, Elliot really did seem to change because of you. You were very strong and insistent about what you expected of him. For the most part, he tried."

"So, I was tough!"

"Let's just say that you knew what you wanted."

"Go on!"

"Now, for the sad part. Cath, your father died last year."

"I know that. Why did I know that?" There was a long pause as they both fell silent. "I know that, because I have been with him," whispered Cathy as though in a trance.

"That's not possible," replied Jenny. But after some thought she said very quietly. "Maybe it is possible, because you see, Cathy, you also died. You were kidnapped, missing for six months, and found dead on the bed in your apartment. No one knows how you got there."

"So then I was buried!"

"Wait a minute! A certain amount of the metaphysical is okay, but I can't deal beyond death. There has to be a logical, real explanation."

"You're right. This is silly," agreed Cathy, as she realized that Jenny was on the verge of losing it. "At least this explains al the strange reactions yesterday. Poor people thought they were seeing a ghost," said Cathy, lightening up a bit.

"I think that's enough in depth conversation for now, Cathy. Why don't you go take a shower. I'll put some clothes on your bed. Sweats, I think."

"Thanks," said Cathy as she disappeared into the bathroom.

They both had a lot of thinking to do; a lot to be said, too much maybe.

Jenny was sitting on the couch, sipping another cup of coffee. She was deep in thought, her mind mulling over what had just been said. The doorbell rang, and she jumped, spilling a little coffee. She ran for the door, before that irritating sound invaded the silence once again.

It was Joe. "How are things going?" he said as he followed Jenny into the apartment, his eyes darting all over looking for Cathy.

"Hi, Jenny. How are you? It's nice to see you again," said Jenny, sarcastically reminding Joe that she was there.

"Oh, yeah, how are you?"

"She's taking a shower," continued Jenny, knowing full well why Joe had come.

"Have you had a chance to talk with her?" asked Joe.

"For what it was worth. She's not making much sense. If you listen to her, it's as though she went from a violent act three years ago, to the one recently with nothing in between."

"I kind of got that idea yesterday," said Joe.

"Did you identify her body, Joe? I mean, did you see her in her apartment?" asked Jenny.

"No, I watched them bag her from the living room."

"Did you see her before the autopsy?"

"No, they wouldn't let me in. Come to think of it, the only one who saw her was Diana, and she didn't know her. So just possibly ... it may not have been Cathy after all," followed Joe, beginning to catch her way of thinking.

"And maybe, she was never dead: like Elliot," continued Jenny.

"I like it. At least it's a way of thinking that I can deal with," said Joe. "Has she said anything about showing up at the office?"

"I don't think you have to worry about that. She really doesn't want to go back to work for you."

"Good, that's a relief. I wouldn't know how to explain her."

"I think it will be a while before she makes up her mind as to what to do with the rest of her life."

"Hi, Joe," said Cathy as she came out of the bedroom.

Joe beamed at the sound of her voice. "Oh, Cathy, it's so good to see you," he said. "I just came to make sure you were okay."

"Everything is okay. The sun is shining, and all is right with the world."

"You can say that again. I've got to get to the office. Goodbye, Cathy," said Joe with a wide smile as he rubbed his ahnds up and down her upper arms. He briskly walked to the door and hopped up the steps.

"Goodbye, Jenny," said Jenny once again, reminding Joe that she was there.

"Sorry about that, Jen. Bye."

*****

It was two o'clock in the afternoon, a beautiful clear November day, Indian Summer. The ivy leaves were beginning to fall off the vine, and the mums were radiant in rust and gold. Cathy had been sitting on the terrace enjoying the sun. There was no need to do anything else; reveling in the sun was quite enough.

"Cathy, some packages have come for you."

Jenny's voice brought her out of her meditation. 'What could possibly be in these packages. Who would send anything for her? Who even knew where she was staying?'

Cathy walked into the living room and was amazed at what she saw. The sofa was full of boxes.

"Well, come on. Open them!" exclaimed Jenny. "I can't wait; It's Christmas and your birthday all in one."

"Is it time for Christmas?" asked Cathy. "Do you have to go out and get presents? Who should I buy for? Do I have money?"

"Cathy! Yoo-hoo! You have to concentrate on opening these now. Never mind Christmas."

"But there are so many."

"Then you had better get started," reminded Jenny.

By the time Cathy had opened the last box, she had a complete wardrobe. She and Jenny were trying on combinations and mix and matches; it was a shopping spree in the living room. They did a lot of laughing and modeling. Finally, in the last box, there was a watch and a note.

It seemed to me that you needed more than a toothbrush

All my love always.

Elliot

"Oh! I shouldn't accept all of this, should I? I do need some of these things; but this is too much. He spent too much money for things that aren't necessary," commented Cathy.

"This, from a girl who used to spend two hundrend dollars for a belt! Elliot is my idea of a real good catch. He's thoughtful, charming, intelligent, rich and not afraid to spend it. And, let's not forget that he is gorgeous. I wouldn't mind if you threw a little of him my way."

"I don't know, Jen. I just don't feel right about this. I would be accepting gifts from a total stranger. On the other hand, it was really nice of him. Maybe, I can keep what I absolutely need and send the rest back."

"I think you're crazy!"

Cathy just shrugged.

That night Cathy had trouble getting to sleep. It had been a busy two days, and when she closed her eyes she would see a montage of faces and clothes. For some reason, it disturned her. She got up, pulled the quilt around her, and went out to the terrace.

"Good evening, Catherine."

Catherine looked around. "Vincent?" She recognized his voice and the way he said Catherine.

Vincent stepped out of the shadows. "I am here. I just wanted to make sure that you were doing well."

"Oh, yes! Everything is going just fine. Joe was here this morning, and Elliot sent me presents, and Jenny is the best of friends. I can't think of anything that I could want or need," replied Cathy.

"Oh," said Vincent, very seriously.

"Let me look at you! What has happened to the smile that I put on your face yesterday?" teased Cathy.

"It is here in my eyes and in my heart."

"How did you find me?" she asked.

"Diana knew where Jenny lived. I asked her."

"I bet she loved that!" responded Cathy. "If I come out here every night after Jenny is asleep, will I find you standing in that corner?"

"If you like."

"I think I would like."

Vincent smiled a wide, broad grin as he said, "Goodnight." He leaped to the top of the ten foot wall, black cape flying, and disappeared into the night.

Surely, this was the best dream of all. However, as she turned to go through the doors, she noticed a red rose on the table. She picked it up and pressed it to her lips, lookiing to the top of the wall.

"Thank you. Thank you, Vincent."

November 21,

I have just come from seeing Catherine and I am filled with joy.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. Diana is coming Below to share the holiday dinner with us. She has easily made friends with my tunnel family and Father extended the invitation.

Perhaps next year, Catherine will be sitting by my side.

I have much for which to be gratified; my health and strength have returned. I have a new peace and inner-control, I have family and friends, including Diana, and then there is Jacob, the miracle of life.

And now, I am being given a second chance and for this, I am most thankful.

V.

Part 2

OUT OF THE DEPTHS

The nightmare is over. There was a certain finality about what happened tonight in Gabriel's house. He is dead and it was Diana who shot him; shot him with my gun. They are safe - my loved ones are safe. I am very grateful that Diana instinctively followed my urgings.

You see, I died eight weeks ago. Actually, I was murdered. My body lost its life in the arms of my beloved Vincent. In most cases, that would seem to be an end, but not for us. What we shared, our love, our bond, can never die.

I did not understand that at first. I fully expected to join with the infinite, as do all other spirits, but I soon understood that my soul, my spirit, was part of another. We can only join with the infinite together. Vincent and I are soul-mates. I had always thought that to be just an expression, but for us it is true. Now, looking back on stories of one mate dying soon after the other, it seems to be a spiritual phenomenom.

To love as we loved was something that I knew was special. We could feel each other; our thoughts, our joys, our fears. These are things of the spirit and the closer we became, the more our spirits joined to become one, one love, one abiding faith, one soul.

And so it is that I am still here. I suppose I am what would be called a ghost. I don't feel like a ghost. I don't actually feel anything, but I perceive. I perceive Vincent and my son. I love them, therefore I am with them. I must be where they are; the source of that love. That is my existence.

Vincent doesn't know this yet. You see, I had to be with my baby. I had to watch over him. I invaded Vincent's thoughts and dreams when our son was dying. I became one with Diana to lead her to them, and now that Vincent had taken our son home to the tunnels, I am here.

It is now quiet. What a joyful reunion for Vincent and his family. He named our baby Jacob, and he is now a member of this wonderful community. He is, even now, sleeping peacefully in his father's arms. Vincent is sitting in the big chair by his bed. I can feel all the awe and joy in Vincent as he gazes down.

"Isn't he wonderful, Vincent?"

He looks up, startled. The bond we had lost, as my inner being became fragmented between him and my child, and his lost memory, is now whole and connects us once again.

"Catherine?"

"Yes, my love."

"You are here with us. I can feel you."

"Yes, my love." And through the physicallity of his eyes, I take form.

"What is this? What does this mean?" Vincent asks.

I must try to explain to him, but it is not through words that I now communicate. It is better that we feel the answers. He was always better at this than I, so that now our thoughts are transferring very quickly.

He understands that, just as we were of the world Above and Below, therefore living our lives in two different places, we are now still on two different planes, but our love and bond remains always the same.

Vincent still has the need to speak, to use words, and so he questions to make certain of his understanding.

"And you will always be here? Always be with that part of me which will continue on through eternity?"

"Yes."

"I am the only one who can see you? And that is because I am seeing you out of my eyes, like a projection?"

"Yes."

"But I can also talk to you? Yes! That is in the same way. I can verbalize and hear your thoughts."

"Yes."

"Then there truly is no such thing as death, only a separation, and in our case, we cannot be separated."

"When you said, 'I carry you with me always', that is exactly what you are doing."

Vincent smiled and breathed deeply. "The ultimate consummation of a love. I feel you totally. I am filled with you."

He put Jacob to bed and went to sleep himself, but not before saying, "Goodnight, my love."

How well he understands, because that is what we are now, pure love.

*****

Jacob woke us up twice during the night, but Vincent gladly walked him, and we even hummed a lullaby. This is wonderful! I am going to enjoy all the physical experiences without my cumbersome body. I have held Jacob with Vincent's arms.

Oh, Infinite Spirit, what a special gift this is. Thank-you for sending me back."

Vincent is finally waking for the day; even his dreams are wonderful to share. I don't think he remembers that I am here, yet. Oh, he just remembered.

"Vincent, would you feel more at ease if I separated from you while you took care of your personal needs?"

"You knew! I suppose I must get used to having my thoughts known before they form in my head."

"Your physical body is something which is no longer in my reality. It is important to me only because of the feelings your body experiences, but as always, I shall respect you and your needs and desires."

*****

Mary had just come in to help Vincent with Jacob. She is very loving, indeed, a mother to all of us. She had brought clean diapers and towels, little shirts, nightgowns and blankets. I would have loved to have gathered all these things for my son.

My time to carry my first-born, Vincent's child, should have been the happiest of my life. Instead, I only have bitter feelings. I think I need to rid myself of these emotions. Perhaps that is also why I am here. This was never meant to happen. I was meant to live a full, happy life with Vincent and our child. When mistakes happen in destiny, then it takes time to right the balance. I should not have the mortal feeling of bitterness, but I do. It lingers, and so I am not yet worthy of eternity.

Mouse is dragging in a small bathing tub, and Kipper and Danny are bringing in hot and cold water. This will be Jacob's first bath here, and it will be quite an event.

Vincent is undressing him. Look at that darling little body. He seems quite strong and healthy.(Thank you, Lord) Everyone is watching to see if Vincent is going to do this, or turn Jacob over to Mary. He is looking down as though he doesn't know where to begin.

Mary offers advice. ''Vincent, first you wash his head. Here, tuck him under your arm and hold his head over the tub. Then lather and rinse. Very good. Now, somone help me roll up Vincent's sleeve. There, cradle the baby in your arm and lower him, arm and all into the water until he is used to it."

Vincent is doing very well, but Jacob has just decided to start kicking. This is such fun! Everyone is laughing, but I think it is because Vincent is getting quite wet - and he seems to be enjoying it most of all. I can tell that this father and son are going to have a wonderful relationship. Vincent is very gentle. He has to be careful of his claws, as he rubs lotion on that soft skin. I share his love, as his fingers trace over Jacob's arms and legs. He is capable of great depths of love and I am part of it.

Well, Jacob is finally diapered and clothed. It was touch-and-go with the diaper, when he decided to kick and wiggle every time Vincent tried to pin the sides. I think Jacob is a great tease and has a sense of humor, even at this tender age. That is very good. He will keep Vincent laughing.

Everyone has left as Vincent is trying to feed Jacob and rock him to sleep.

"That was great fun, Vincent."

"I enjoyed it, but more because I knew you were here. It seems right for you to share these moments."

As I am a part of this moment, I realize that I have not truly separated from this life. My arms ache to hold Jacob. It is the residue of the feelings I had when he was taken away from me. And so my arms ache - and yet I have no arms. My breasts throb to suckle him as he feeds - and yet I have no breasts. Mortal feelings again; aching, throbbing and bitterness; they keep me here as surely as does my love.

And what of revenge? Diana pulled the trigger of my gun to kill Gabriel - but I inspired it. She was my agent, so we both must bear the guilt of revenge. Diana really came through. She is so capable, so self-assured and already she loves Vincent. He is very easy to love. She not only loves him, but also his concept of love, that special way he has of making a person feel unique, just because he has looked at you.

Vincent does not yet understand that she would be good for him. No, it is too soon and we are still bound. But she is wonderful. He will no doubt see this in time.

I have not gone with him as he inspects a leaky tunnel. I would rather stay with Jacob. Mary came to stay with him. She is sewing and humming. All seems back to normal.

*****

Diana came to visit this evening. Vincent seemed awkward at first. I made him understand that I wanted him to spend time with her, then I separated from him. He has just returned from taking her to the surface.

"Catherine, I do not know how I can do this? All my thoughts and feelings are of you. Help me to understand. Did you communicate to me that you want Diana in my life?"

"Yes, Vincent. Remember, we are of two different planes. You are still a mortal being and you have so much to give in your world. We loved, and because of that love, you dared things you thought were impossible. I lived every one of those wonderful revelations with you. You became someone who could touch the world Above. You opened up to me and you loved me fully. You must not go back to where you were before you found me. It would make our two years of exploring each other, learning and loving, mean nothing. You must go forward to your true fulfillment. It is only through you that I now can also reach my perfect potential."

"But our bond? How can I love Diana when we are bound together through eternity?"

"It is precisely because it is Diana that it is possible. You see, we belong to each other; she belongs to everything. She is one of those special people whose spirit reaches out to join with all that surrounds her. She will never be one with anything, because she is one with everything. But she needs your physicality."

"I never thought much about my physicality."

"I know, darling, believe me, I know."

*****

I am not jealous and that is good. It is one feeling I do not have to work through. It must be that those feelings I have, which are related to my untimely death, will stay until I can forgive and forget them

Little Jacob certainly has enough people to dote on him. This evening, Vincent had no trouble getting a babysitter. We are going for a walk, out into the park. I am amazed that I can still enjoy the beauty of moonlight and the sparkle of the snow. I am glad, though, that I cannot feel the cold.

"Vincent, it has been a while since you have seen Diana. Is she well?"

"I believe so."

"Does she live far from here?"

"Would you like me to visit her?"

"Vincent, remember what I said, that you must remain open."

"But I am very content now," replied Vincent.

"I know, but I also think she misses you and she deserves at least a visit."

"You are right. Catherine, why this concern for Diana?"

"She did something for me. We shared an experience. Besides, I know what it is to love you. We also share that."

Vincent shivers a bit. "This talk makes me feel uneasy. Are you sure you want to come with me?"

"Is that the question, or would you rather I didn't."

"Catherine, I want you with me, always."

"Well then, let's go."

This is quite a challenge for Vincent, and I can see where it can be awkward for him, but he has to realize the difference between reaching out to hold a hand and reaching out to embrace an essence. There is validity in both.

How easily he moves over the rooftops. He glides and his strength is unbelievable. There is sureness in every move, every jump. We have arrived safely on Diana's rooftop, above her loft. Vincent taps lightly on the window and she looks up startled. She was deeply engrossed in a book, several books, but she comes running to the door. I remember the feeling.

"Vincent, I'm glad to see you. It was about time I had someone else to talk to beside myself."

"Are you talking to yourself these days?"

"I usually do when I get involved in a very difficult case - and this one is very spooky."

"Yes, I can see that you are ... the word is not really 'disturbed' ... it is more, almost frightened."

"You got that right. I can handle myself in most any situations. I can fight with the best of them, but with this new case I can't even identify the villain. Please, come in, I've got to show you ..."

I'm almost surprised at how easily he follows her into her apartment, but then his depth of feeling for Diana is not what it was for me. He doesn't feel that he would be crossing a sacred barrier. There is no thought behind his action. He just followed her. In a way this is good. It is good to see him without the restraints our love placed on him.

I don't like the feeling I am getting as we get closer to Diana's desk. There is something evil here.

"There is something evil here, Vincent," said Diana at the exact moment I felt it. "I was beginning to feel as though I were being watched from outside this physical world. I might be silly but I'm glad you're here." She looked up suddenly, directly into his eyes. "Catherine is always very near, isn't she?"

"Yes, can you feel her, also?"

"Just to look at you is to feel her."

Vincent smiled. "So, how may I help you?"

"I don't know that anyone can help. I think I'm dealing with devil worship. There have been a number of crimes committed by young people, children really, but there is a sinister pattern."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the crimes might look like the 'stealing for drugs.' motive, but the cruelties perpetrated on the victims are vicious. Along with this, there has been animal torture and killing. As I said, the offenders seem to be about twelve or thirteen, and in most cases they even leave some money behind, as though that is not the real reason for the assault."

"Have you spoken to any of these children?"

"They seem to be normal, almost sweet, but there is an edge that I can sense. I don't know if I'm making too much of this whole thing, but my instincts are telling me there is more to this than what the evidence shows."

"I would go along with your feelings. They usually prove correct," said Vincent.

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of. I don't have any hard evidence; absolutely nothing I can take to Joe. Yet ..."

"Yet, what? You are very disturbed about something, Diana."

She begins a strange story.

"This afternoon I was on the street, two blocks over, trying to find something, someone to talk to. I had interviewed three shopkeepers who had been robbed, and they all confirmed that there were about five children standing outside of their shops, just staring in the window almost zombie-like. Then two of them came in, pointed a gun, demanded money and, this is the strange part, the rest of the children came in and terrorized the victim. The pattern was the same as in other robberies.

"I finished with the last victim, and I couldn't get the idea out of my head that there were evil forces at work. I even had chills as though I had walked through a cold draft. I needed to get my mind off of my imaginings, so I started window-shopping. I walked along and realized that a new shop had opened. I had been in that area only last week and it wasn't there, but here it was fully-stocked and operational in a week. I couldn't resist, I had to go in and browse.

"There were very exotic, I'd say almost ancient, items; more like a museum than a shop. It was musty, and many pieces looked as if they had been in place for a very long time. When I picked up a goblet there was a deep, ring impression on the velvet under it. There were even a few cobwebs in corners. It just doesn't make sense. I know it wasn't there a week ago."

"But, Diana, how could it have such a settled appearance in such a short time?"

"Exactly. That is what I was going to ask the shopkeeper but he ... I don't know if I can explain it, except to say that every instinct screamed at me to leave."

"Did you?"

"Yes, but these crimes started a week ago, and that shop showed up a week ago. It is definitely a mysterious place. Maybe I'm just grasping at straws, but I'd love to get back into that place, alone."

"You should not go alone if you have a strong intuition about that shop. I will go with you when you are ready to return."

"How about now?"

I told you Diana was a tough lady and very gutsy. However, I feel that we should not be doing this. I'm engulfed with fear. There it is again, a mortal emotion. I should not know fear. Is it Vincent's fear? No, it is mine.

"Vincent, can you talk Diana out of this? I fear for what may happen."

"Diana, do you think we should be going there this late?" asked Vincent.

"Sure, I just hope that it is late enough so no one will be there."

We are approaching the shop and as we get closer I begin to panic. I want to leave, not to be a part of this, but I must not part from Vincent. No matter what I fear, I will not leave him.

We are in the alley behind the shop. Diana is picking the lock. It opens easily. It is dark out here, even though the snow seems to be reflecting the moonlight everywhere but here. She turns the knob and pushes the door open just a crack.

"Diana, that is very strange. I see a faint candle glow inside, but there is nothing reflecting through the window."

"Yeah, well I told you this place was strange," said Diana.

With all that is at my command I am warning Vincent that all is not what it seems. "Feel my fear, Vincent - feel it. We are entering a place of great evil."

But Diana plunges in, so Vincent has no choice but to follow. The candleglow grows brighter as we enter. It seems to originate in the shop, but for some reason it is lighting the back storage area as well. Diana checks among the boxes and crates and seems satisfied that they are exactly what they appear. Then she walks to the burgundy velvet drapes which cover the entrance to the shop. They are parted just enough to see the glow. She walks through with Vincent at her heels.

"Look at this, Vincent. Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"Not really."

It was a beautiful antique, gold-carved set of frames, which opens like a book.

"I wonder what story deserved such framing," muses Vincent.

"Or maybe it was pictures," said Diana.

"Maybe."

"Oh, look at this chair, Vincent, with the beautiful carvings of lion heads on the ends of the arms. There are lion heads on that buffet as well This one is snarling and this one is staring and this one has a smile."

"Diana, I think we should leave. I'm beginning to feel very uneasy."

"Vincent, I felt uneasy before we came."

"Well, I don't know if you have noticed, but there are lion heads on practically every piece in here. Something is very wrong."

"Maybe we should go. I'll come back tomorrow and ask about this set of frames."

As Diana picks it up and opens the leaf, she lets out a scream and I would have also, if I could, because I know what she sees. Vincent rushes over and looks down.

"What is it, Diana? What have you seen?"

"Can't you see him? Look!"

"Diana, I see no one."

"It's him. It is Gabriel."

"Impossible!"

I can tell you that she did see Gabriel because I saw his image also.

"Vincent, I think we had better get out of here."

I know it is too late. There is no getting out of here. They go out to the storeroom, to the door, but there is no door or window. The wall is solid. Vincent tries to push at the wall where the door had been, but to no avail. They turn back to the velvet-lined doorway, the fire-glow from the shop is much brighter. They enter and head for the front door, but realize that it is made of iron and secured by locks. They stop in their tracks as they hear.

"Good evening. Welcome. I have long awaited this moment, Vincent."

I feel a shudder go through Vincent. We know that voice. He turns slowly, hesitantly, almost afraid to look. Sitting in the large chair with the lion heads is Paracelsus.

"I don't know who you are, creep, but you better let us out of here. I'm a police officer and you're in a lot of trouble," bullies Diana.

"Your threats hold no power over me and your laws are meaningless here. You are mine, just as Vincent has always been mine. Catherine, I am pleased that you are with us, but then it is you who has brought us together."

I cannot imagine why he is speaking to me. He is as dead as I. And yet he sits there as though he is passing judgement.

"Very astute of you, my dear. That is it precisely."

"Vincent, what is he talking about? Who is he talking to?" asks Diana.

"This also concerns you, Diana. If you would go over to the table and bring the frame you admired earlier. Is that hesitancy I feel ... from the intrepid Diana?"

"Vincent, would you be so kind?"

"What is in your evil mind, Paracelsus? What diabolical plan of yours will leave us in pain?"

"Justice, Vincent. I am here seeking justice. There has been a crime committed against the Powerful One and he demands his pound of flesh."

Vincent and Diana are surprised to see the frame standing on the table next to the chair.

"Look at it as the leaves turn," commands Paracelsus.

Pictures appear. The first is Diana in the doorway, with Gabriel on the floor of the nursery; then, Gabriel as he starts getting up, smiling; next Diana pointing a gun: and finally, the shot that killed Gabriel.

"Diana, is that how it happened?" questioned an amazed Vincent.

Paracelsus answered. "Yes, Vincent, that's how it happened and that is why this little conclave. You see, it takes many earth-years to set up a truly evil character, to have his tentacles spread to do the work of damnation. It is not appreciated when the investment cannot continue to tempt and destroy. Gabriel was a true disciple, but one slow squeeze of the trigger of Catherine's gun and it was over. I, therefore, accuse Catherine Chandler of instigating and inciting the crime of murder, through the vessel of Diana Bennett. How do you plead?"

"Wait a minute. Catherine?" Diana is puzzled.

"Ah, yes. It would not be fair if you could not see and hear all that will take place. Catherine Chandler, you have your body."

I feel myself being pulled away from Vincent. He is no longer my host. He feels my leaving and looks around. I am standing before him, as material as he.

"Catherine," he whisperes, as he reaches out and touches my cheek.

"Now you stand before your accuser."

It does not seem possible, but he is here. The three of us cringe a bit as Gabriel walks before us, stopping at each one, staring into our eyes with that evil, twisted smile on his lips.

"Well, Catherine, what is your plea? I am waiting to hear," he hisses.

"Not guilty."

"What? Tsk-tsk and after you saw the pictures? How about you? Are you going to deny it also, Diana?"

"I deny nothing. I admit nothing."

"Well, Paracelsus, I tried. It looks like we will just have to go through the trial," says Gabriel, holding his head to one side, as he glares down on us through squinted eyes.

"Oddly enough, Vincent, you seem to be the only innocent victim in all of this, but then, of course, there's my death. We cannot discount that, can we?" says Paracelsus, as he leans forward eye to eye with Vincent.

He continues, "Let us see what is on the favorable side. You, the three of you, have committed murders, but your's Catherine was deliberate, with much forethought and with revenge - truly a masterpiece of homicide. Don't you agree, Gabriel?"

"Quite. She did me in, but I faced that one," he said as he spun around, gesturing toward Diana.

"Vincent, which one do we try first?"

"Paracelsus, how can we be tried by your values? We are of a different world."

"Ah, you always were wise. To be sure different worlds; however, Catherine is within our realm and if you recall I did charge her. She is the perfect candidate. Caught between heaven and hell, joy and bitterness, peace and revenge. Which way is it to be, Catherine?"

"No!" shouts Vincent. But I step forward.

"I am not afraid of you. What more can you do to me?"

"To you, plenty, and through you, him."

Paracelsus points a bony finger at Vincent and I realize for the first time that with my body I am again vulnerable.

"Now, shall we get started?" Gabriel seems too anxious.

As we look around the room, there are three empty stools, everything else has vanished, except for the table next to the chair upon which sits the gilded frame. We are forced to sit by some unseen power. Vincent reaches for my hand and I tremble at his touch. We lock fingers as we commit our combined strength and love to this battle. However, we are ignored as Gabriel starts in on Diana. He puts his hands on her shoulders and leans down until he is inches away from her face.

"You did, willfully and maliciously shoot to kill me. Yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Then you are guilty?"

"Of what?"

"Murder."

"I considered it an execution."

"Really!"

"You said it yourself - our laws would not work in your case. You goaded me into protecting my society. You made me realize that you were a pestilence to be eradicated. You caused your own murder at my hands."

"She is very clever, Paracelsus. Her thinking is too clear. She is right. I did talk too much. We have to give her that."

It was now Paracelsus' turn. "Diana, you have no remorse, no guilt?"

"I did nothing wrong. I have relived the moment over and over. He deserved to die."

"And you saved Vincent from revenge?"

"I was drawn to that room. I had to move quickly. Somehow, I did not want Gabriel's blood on his hands," explains Diana.

"So, you saved him from the act of vengeful murder. This does not look good for you. I thought there was promise, but no. Innocent. Stand for sentencing."

Vincent jumps up. "What does this mean? Paracelsus, you are devising a cruel hoax wherein no one can win. We are at your mercy. Why don't you just kill us and have done with it."

"Kill you? Kill you? You don't understand, it isn't your death I want, not yet. It is your eternity - and she will give it to me," says Paracelsus, as he walks over to me and slaps me across the face.

I fall from the stool. It has been some time since I have felt pain and he takes me by such surprise, that I scream as I hot the floor. Vincent is instantly on his feet and he grabs Paracelsus around the throat.

"Now you see how simple this will be?" says Paracelsus.

Vincent releases him and reaches down as he kneels before me. He gently lifts me and I feel his embrace, warm and tingling as my body responds. I am surely alive. He sits back on his stool and cradles me in his arms. We are both hungry for togetherness and I cling to him, grateful for this moment, no matter what the circumstances. He is kissing the top of my head and whispering my name over and over. We cannot stop touching each other. It has been such a long time since I reached out my hand and felt his cheek and ran my finger over his mouth.

"Diana, this is your sentence. You must watch this and more."

Vincent and I look over to her, but she is sitting in a meditative pose with tears streaming down her face. We had forgotten all that was around us. I would not want to hurt Diana and Vincent does not fit easily into manipulation. He starts to object, but ...

"Look up Diana, watch. Look at the frames. Oh, what pictures you will see."

The last thing I see, is Diana turning her head, trying not to look, but it is of no use. That powerful force is focusing her gaze on those bewitched frames.

And Vincent and I are gone ...

*****

We are walking down Fifth Avenue. The sky is blue, it is daylight. I look up and, yes, it is Vincent who is walking beside me. We are holding hands and I smile up at him. He is very beautiful and his hair shines in the sunlight.

"Catherine, this is wonderful. The sun is warmer than I imagined. It seems to be all right. No one is looking at me."

"Yes, Vincent. I have wondered what this would be like. Oh, look at the wonderful chairs in this window. You would be very comfortable in that."

"Indeed, they are beautiful and that tapestry drapery; I don't think I have ever seen anything look so rich," admires Vincent.

We continue walking. Vincent is noticing all the things he has only seen at night.

"Vincent, do you like ice cream?"

"Yes, I have not had it often. Only on special occasions, when a Helper brings it down."

"Well, there is a corner vendor. Let's get some." We walk over to the bright push-cart. "I'll have strawberry. What is your favorite, Vincent?"

The vendor looks up at him and does not react. He doesn't notice anything different in Vincent's face.

"What'll it be?"

"Vanilla." Vincent is preoccupied.

"What is it? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. There is money in my hand. I've never bought anything, not with money."

"Here you are, one strawberry and one vanilla. That will be $2.50."

"Is this enough?" asks Vincent.

"Yeah, and I give you $2.50 change."

"What will I do with this?"

"I don't know, Vincent. Maybe we'll find something wonderful to do."

We walk as we eat our ice cream and talk and laugh. Soon we are at the park.

"I know! I know what we can do. We can ride the carousel."

And with this I start running ahead of him. He soon catches up to me, scoops me up and spins me around. This is such joy. The weather is perfect, the sun is bright and it is spring.

Vincent buys our tickets for the carousel and we ride side-by-side horses, but I can't take my eyes from him. His hair is flying out around his shoulders, his blue eyes are glistening and his deep-throated laugh is unbelievable. I love him so ...

*****

It is suddenly dark, very late and I am alone. I feel as though I have been greatly-burdened but I am at the entrance to the park and I am going to Vincent. I am running. Nancy said follow your heart and he is my heart.

There he is. He knew I was coming. How could I have ever doubted our love? How could I have ever put anything before him? The closer I get the stronger grows my excitement. I am in his arms.

"Forgive me, Vincent. Forgive me for doubting. What we have is all that matters. It is worth everything."

"Everything."

We stare into each other's eyes and then move closer. Our lips touch, lightly at first and then, in the passion of a year's culmination, we kiss deeply, touching the very core of each other. As we separate, we realize that there is new meaning to our relationship.

He kisses my forehead and then the tip of my nose and smiles a silly half-grin. He holds my face in his hands and brushes his lips against mine, over and over, teasing, until he fully takes my lips with his. I have longed for this. He is truly all I need.

*****

We slowly move downward until we are on our knees and still we kiss. The sky is turning light as we lie side by side. I open my eyes and there is tall grass all around us.

"Vincent, be very still. Look!"

There is a deer walking our way. It is coming closer, so close that I can reach out and touch it. We are very quiet as we watch it graze. Suddenly, he prances off. I sit up and look around.

"Oh, Vincent, we are at the lake. This is my favorite spot. I'm very happy to share it with you."

"I cannot believe we are here. You were right," says Vincent, "It was possible. The mountains! I am actually looking at mountains."

"The lake is down there," I say as I point straight ahead. "Come on, you've got to see this."

I reach down for his hand and as he takes mine, he playfully pulls and I tumble on top of him. We roll in the tall grass, laughing and holding onto one another. He finally lifts me with him as he stands.

"Which way?"

"There."

We take our time walking down the path through the trees and into the clearning. There is the lake straight ahead. It is like a bright jewel sparkling in the sun. Vincent stops and I can barely hear a little gasp. He is overcome with the beauty. We go to the water's edge and he says nothing.

We step into a boat and he rows out to the center of the lake. He stands and turns, looking around us. The lake is circled by cliffs and mountains. The chinks and crags form many-faceted shadows and the tufts of trees add lush texture. It is sunset, and the orange and red glow on the water reflects part way up the rock-sided tors, but fall away to lilac and then deep purple, as the shadows win the crevices. I have never seen it look more beautiful. Nature is putting on a special show for her favorite son.

As Vincent turns toward me, I see tears wetting his cheeks. He is deeply touched.

"Thank-you, my love. Thank-you for convincing me to come. This is beyond description."

We have stayed out here until the sun slips completely between two peaks. It is getting dark and we must be on our way. We walk back through the trees, up the road to the van. Before Vincent settles in the back, he takes one last look.

"At least I have seen it once."

"Vincent, it has never looked this way before. I am sure it is because I am seeing it with you."

I go back to sit beside him. He puts his arms around me and we feel the warm glow of the beauty of our shared experience.

*****

I am warm, comfortable, his arms are around me and my eyes are closed, but the sense of contentment has left me. In fact, I am devastated. There is a terrible weight on me. I start sobbing as I turn my head into his chest. I am afraid to think. I don't want to know the reason for this pain. I can only cry.

I hear myself say, "I need to be here, now. I need to be with you."

I lift my head and look around. I am in my chamber Below. We are on my bed. I suddenly realize that my father has died and I can not go on with my life Above.

Vincent lays me back against the headboard and gets up. "Rest now. You need to sleep."

"I am tired."

He turns to leave but I want him to stay. Why is he leaving me? Can't he see that I need him? I call out, "Vincent."

He looks at me with a lost, helpless look. Then he hesitates as though a doubt has crossed his mind.

"Please, I need you near me tonight."

He takes a few steps towards me and stops again. I hold out my hand, pleadingly. He comes to me and takes it.

"What is it? Why do you seem afraid to stay?"

"Catherine, I want what is right for you and staying here may not be the best thing for you. I have feelings I must control."

"Why must you always have such unwavering control?" I say to him as I pull on his hand to sit him on the bed again. I move in closer. "I love you, Vincent. I need you here. It is that simple."

"For anyone but me it may be simple."

"Why not you?"

"I cannot for one moment lose myself. I cannot take the chance with your safety. You of all people know what I become when I lose myself."

"You are afraid that if we become too intimate you may lose your control?"

"Yes. Even now, just sitting here beside you, my passion is almost unbearable. Having you so near is a contant test of my self-control. I won't deny that I want to hold you and love you. But I dare not."

"I am not afraid, Vincent."

I say this as I kneel beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. I can feel him shiver. I rub my hand up his chest and he puts his head back revealing that wonderful throat. I cannot resist. I place my lips on his chin and work my way down to the top of his vest. He is actually shaking. Finally, he grasps me and holds me away from him. He looks deeply into my eye, and then lays us both down. He starts kissing me, but suddenly jumps up.

"No, not like this. Not out of your need and sorrow. You must have time to heal. This is not the time to take unfair advantage - for either of us. Good night Catherine. I will hear if you call." And he is gone.

I rest my head on the pillow, alone. I am very tired and soon I fall asleep.

*****

I am dreaming of sunshine and flowers, roses. No, this is not a dream. I am on my balcony and I have just planted a rosebush in a large pot. The morning sun will be good for it. Vincent is kneeling beside me. I pricked my finger and he came out of the shadows to see that I am not hurt. He holds my hand and examines it. I still tingle just from his touch. Then, totally unexpected, he puts his lips to my finger and kisses it. He looks at me, almost embarrassed. He pulls back. But I won't let him, not this time. I take his chin in my hand and hold his face close to mine as we stare deeply into each other's eyes. By that strange, unspoken, magic our lips find each other's. I kiss him, lightly, innocently, for the spontaneity of the moment speaks for itself. We are moving ever closer. We are joining in spirit and mind. I know now, that someday soon we will also join physically.

*****

There is a knock on my door and I leave Vincent to answer it. However, as I go through my balcony doors, it is not my apartment I step into. It is a tunnel, dark and leading to a small opening. I hear only growls, horrible and frightening. Yet, I go forward because I know those sounds mean that Vincent is in trouble.

I enter a dark cave-like chamber and come face to face with Vincent, as he lunges for me with fangs and claws bared.

I scream, "Vincent, Vincent." He stops just short of my face and collapses on me, instead, bringing me down with him.

I am lying beside him and all is silent. He is so still that I cannot detect a trace of breathing. I begin to panic. He cannot be dead. I will not let him be dead.

"Vincent," I whisper at first, then gasping, tugging at him, "No, not this way, not without me."

I don't know what to do. I only know that my life is pouring out of me. I must do something. I am breathing very heavily now. My breath is strong and almost convulsive. He is slipping away. I cover his mouth with mine. Perhaps I can spill this life, my life, into him.

There is no difference, I am he, he is me, we are one.

"Vincent, there is no beginning; there is no end for us. We are one in life or in death."

I whisper these words against his lips, and ever so slowly I begin to feel warmth return to him. His lips begin responding to mine and we are both caught in our bond of unity.

I can feel strength return to his body, as he reaches up one hand and pulls me close to him; our lips all the while consummating their own passion.

I can feel that he is different. He has no sense of barriers or restraints. All the walls are down and our bond, our love is surging through us, circling itself from one to the other in one continuous movement. We have no choice, we are joined as if fused together, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and at last, physically.

It is beyond belief, total oneness. I think I shall lose consciousness from the intensity. We both collapse into darkness. But there is a scream, a compelling scream. Vincent and I revive and realize that we are lying on the floor of the strange antique shop. It takes a while for us to remember our surroundings, for the throes of passion still hold us in its grip.

*****

Diana is screaming, "No."

I look up to see her straining her head away from us. Paracelsus and Gabriel are laughing.

Finally, Gabriel walks to Diana. "Have you seen enough? is your jealousy eating away at you? Can you feel your hatred for Catherine growing?"

"You couldn't be farther from the truth. I screamed because I had to do something to stop that. Their love, their intimacy deserves better than voyeurism."

"You are too noble, Diana."

"Enough!" bellows Paracelsus. "It is these two we want. Stop wasting your time with her. Let us see. What do we have?"

Vincent and I sit huddled on the floor. The proceedings are beyond us. We have been snatched from dreams and toppled into a nightmare.

Gabriel starts to speak.

"Both are guilty of murder. Catherine is guilty of revenge and causing another to commit murder. Vincent began to realize the power and wonder of money and material things. He could make Catherine happy with things. He felt the depth of passion and desire. Even now, he feels the sexual pull of a woman, and Catherine is a great seductress. She certainly had him at her mercy several times. She is selfish, putting her fears and needs before his well-being."

"This is wonderful. I think we have got them," gloats Paracelsus.

Vincent starts to growl. He is very angry, but I stand between them. I realize that I must start to think like a lawyer.

So, how do I start our defense?

"Are we just to be found guilty?"

"But you are guilty and even Diana can testify to it. We watched it all," snarled Gabriel.

"I summon Diana Bennett to the witness stand. Diana, do you swear to tell the truth ..." I start.

"We don't pay any attention to that and I go first. The prosecution always goes first," jeers Gabriel.

My heart sinks. I can't seem to get a handle on these turn-about proceedings.

"Did Catherine Chandler, or did she not, plant the suggestion that I should be eliminated?"

"I could feel her presence with me. It was as though we were acting as one, but I can't say where the idea came from."

"You don't deny that you felt her strongly?"

"No, I don't deny that."

"And a certain feeling of revenge?"

"I object," I heard Diana say.

"To what? It's a simple question."

"The feeling I had from Catherine and myself was retribution and justice."

"This won't do!" shouts Paracelsus. "Vincent, Catherine, sit down."

Again we are forced onto the stools.

"Now, I will ask the questions. Vincent, we all know you killed me in anger."

"Yes, and given the chance, I would do it again."

"Very good, that is what I wanted to hear. Now, let us see. Catherine, you jeopardized Vincent's safety over and over. Didn't you? You couldn't be sure if you loved him, could you?"

Paracelsus was standing over me. His breath is hot and his eyes burn into me. We are almost face to face.

"Answer me," he shouts.

"No. No!"

"No, you couldn't be sure you loved him?"

"Yes. Yes, I am sure."

"Make up your mind; and you talk about me tormenting him! You knew he should not have gone out of the tunnels, but you had to take him to the lake. Do you know the problems, the strained relations it caused for him when he got back? Did you even care?"

"I cared. He knows I cared." I start to cry.

"Oh, you cared, you cared about your needs."

'Stay with me, Vincent, I need you, Vincent.' he imitated my voice perfectly and I realized that they had indeed been watching everything.

"You temptress! Can you deny that your need and passion was your formost concern?"

"No ..."

"So you don't deny it?"

I should know better than to answer so quickly, but he is so vile and vehement that I cannot think. I am very frightened. I don't understand what is happening. 'Feelings' are getting in the way.

Vincent tries to stand but is powerless to move. The more he struggles, the more a force seems to be holding him. He is growling and snarling. I know he just wants to help me.

Gabriel comes over to Vincent. He stands there watching the struggle with that sick smile on his face. Vincent calms, somewhat, almost bracing for the next onslaught.

"Vincent, how did it feel to regain consciousness and realize she was kissing you passionately? Can you feel it? Those soft, warm lips on yours. Can you feel how warm she is, as she lays on you, caressing you? Can you feel the heat rising in you, burning away at your mind, your heart, all your senses, until there can only be on surgiing relief? Do you feel her respond, as she gives in to you and then stiffens to meet your attack?"

Vincent tries in vain to reach him, but Gabriel keeps just out of reach.

Vincent roars, "Gabriel, you are a demon."

"You are right, Vincent. That is exactly what I am. Did you enjoy the fulfillment you couldn't remember? Well, now you remember and there she is."

Vincent is struggling and straining but he cannot break that unseen force. The roaring is deafening and his thrashing about is frightening.

"Oh, I like this. This is what I have waited to see." A snide Paracelsus moves to take his turn at Vincent.

"Please?" I plead through my tears. "Leave him alone. Take me." No sooner had I said it than I realized that this is exactly what he wants.

"I think the most shameles thing of all was the final seduction. We all saw how you led him to this passion through each little scene." He turned his attention to me immediately, as I offered myself to him.

"But, to take advantage of him when he was ill, to arouse him only to fulfill yourself, was the best, the very best. You are now my daughter. I gave you all those unfulfilled moments to see how you would play them out - and I won!"

I look at Vincent to see what he believes. His love is unwavering. He doesn't realize the full meaning of this. No matter that our souls are joined for eternity. If I am Paracelsus' daughter then Vincent is his 'son.'

We are exhausted. Our emotions have reached heights and depths in so short a span that we can hardly think. I know that I still feel all the love and passion I experienced in each relived episode. It is still that strong.

"Yes, you are right, Catherine, it is still very much alive," says Paracelsus.

I had forgotten that he could read our thoughts. I am very quickly losing the knowledge of the spirit. This body is claiming me.

"Yes, that is what I have been waiting for. Now that your spirit is claiming its physical form and your body is claiming its passion, I can proceed," Paracelsus looks very pleased with himself.

"I don't like this," says Diana. "Vincent, be strong and honest. You have no guilt. Think! You have no guilt and neither does Catherine."

A change comes over Vincent. He is beginning to realize what Diana has known all along. They are playing a game of reverse morality.

"Paracelsus, I did not murder you. You asked for it, you actually asked to be killed. I think you are the guilty party in your own murder."

Diana is relieved to realize that now Vincent is beginning to understand. It is indeed a no-win situation. Guilty is what they have wanted all along.

"And the only thing that Catherine is guilty of is love," continues Vincent.

"Don't forget revenge and murder."

"No, don't you forget - it was retribution and justice," interrupted Diana.

"Quiet! Nothing you say will make any difference now," shouts Paracelsus. There is a change in his manner.

He is charming and his voice is almost oily as he continues, "My daughter and son, I am a very generous father. I give you your hearts' desire - each other. Vincent, you will have all that beauty and wealth which you admired on Fifth Avenue, along with power. You will live long and enjoy a life filled with passion. I am giving her back to you, Vincent. For all of this, you just do a few favors for me, from time to time. After all, someone has to take Gabriel's place."

I go over to Vincent. He stands and takes me in his arms. We melt together, the attention is so strong that I can feel a current pulling me into him. Our eyes are locked into a stare that reaches into our souls.

"Catherine, for eternity, then so be it. I love you." And with that he kisses me.

I am intoxicated by him. It is as though I am being drawn down a long tunnel at the end of which stands Vincent. As I think about this, I remember another tunnel with light at the end and the truth is revealed to me. Vincent and I love. We love honestly and openly; we love with respect and caring; we love in spirit and mind as well as body; we love totally. There is no evil in love; there is only the light. I know what I must do.

"Paracelsus, I will not allow this," I said. Looking deep into Vincent's eyes, I continue, "You are my love and my eternity and you are my life. I now give that life freely and willing. I do not need this body to love you."

I feel Vincent catch a breath and then he lets out an anguished cry as he understands my meaning. He holds on tighter. There is such pain in his face, but I must not weaken.

"Paracelsus, I refuse to play this game any longer. I am like you, a spirit. I forgot that when you gave me back this body. I am guilty of nothing. My judgement is an accomplished fact and you hold no power over that. Take back this body. I give it up."

I feel a weakness coming over me. Paracelsus and Gabriel are both ranting somewhere in the distant background. All I can see is Vincent, as all else gets dim and silent.

"Catherine, please, no. How can I bear to lose you again?" Vincent whispers. That is all the voice he has through sobbing. He holds me close, then away so that we may look at each other. I lift my hand and touch his cheek to brush away his tears. I know my own tears are falling, for my heart is breaking. Paracelsus wins after all for this is hell. We kiss one last time.

"Goodbye, my love."

I am floating free. Vincent holds me in his arms.

Diana comes to him. "Vincent, please, how can I help?" But Vincent has no words. "Vincent, let's get out of here. Come on."

The antique shop is gone. There is only an empty store. Diana tugs at Vincent's cape and leads the way to the back door. "Come on, Vincent. You can bring her to my place."

He gets up and starts a journey which is reminiscent. He tenderly carries me out of the shop and through the streets. I don't think he can bear this. Damn Paracelsus and Gabriel! What am I saying? They are already damned. But why and I 'feeling' anger?

Anger is not all I feel. I feel anxious to see Jacob and I feel total empathy for Vincent and I feel grateful to Diana. The point is that I feel - not perceive, feel. The physical residue is powerful.

Or is it possible that if death cannot be reversed, then the gift of rebirth can also not be reversed?

Part 3

WHITE LACE AND HOLLY

"Juan De Fuco. Well, Cathy, do you know?" asked Joe. "Come on partner, you've got to know this one, cause sure as heck, I don't."

"Earth to Cathy! We're playing Trivial Pursuit. Do you know the answer?" asked Elliot for the third time.

"I guess not," answered, Cathy as she got up and went to the terrace doors.

"The game's not over," reminded Jenny.

"It's such a terrible night. The snow is really piling up out there," said Cathy.

"Is that a hint for us to leave?" teased Joe. "You got another date."

They all laughed, as Cathy naively tried to make amends. "Oh no, I'm really enjoying the game." She went back to sit next to Joe.

And so Jenny and Elliot, and Joe and Cathy continued playing until the game ended. Jenny and Elliot won; they both had the knack for pulling minute details out of the hidden recesses of their brains.

It seemed to Cathy that the four of them were becoming a cozy pair of pairs. Ever since Thanksgiving, Joe and Elliot showed up often. That was two weeks ago, a very strange day.

Jenny and Cathy had no plans for the holiday. About ten o'clock in the morning, Joe called and invited them to his Mom's house for dinner at two o'clock. It seems she was cooking a twenty pound turkey for the two of them. At noon Elliot arrived for a visit, and was still there when Joe came to pick them up at twelve-thirty. Elliot let it be known that he had nowhere to go, except to a restaurant for dinner, so Joe extended an invitation to him.

That is how it came about that the four of them, and Mrs. Maxwell, sat at the table together and celebrated the Thanksgiving holiday. It was a congenial group, and Mrs. Maxwell was thrilled that her table was full, and the food was appreciated.

The conversation went from one to the other. Elliot told of the shock of his board of directors, when he barged in on their meeting the day before. They had done a good job of salvaging two hotels and his holdings in the islands. All was not lost. Jenny was in quiet negotiations with an anthropologist, and if she pulled off the deal, it would be a publishing coup. Joe had not quite gotten used to the administrative end of law but being the temporary D.A. was exciting. He was in on all the investigations and felt that he was doing some good work.

The stories went around and around until, as if one, the trio realized that Cathy was just listening.

"Well, Cathy, what about you?" asked Elliot. "Have you decided on going back to work, or do you want to marry me and be taken care of for the rest of your life?"

"There's an offer I wouldn't think about twice," interrupted Jenny.

Cathy put her head down; she was a bit embarrassed. "I don't know. I don't think I want to practice law any longer. Maybe I'd like to work for the homeless, or children, or battered women. Maybe that's where I can use my legal knowledge - or maybe I'll just help any way that I can."

They all just stared at her. She had the feeling that she was a time-bomb ready to explode. "Did I say something wrong?" Cathy inquired.

"No, just a little different," said Jenny.

An so it had gone for the past two weeks. Joe and Elliot would visit Cathy, together or separately, and Jenny would entertain time as Cathy's mind wandered to something or somewhere else.

"Did I tell you that now it looks like all of my New York holdings will be returned in restitution after the courts settle the Gabriel affair?" said Elliot, bringing Cathy back to the present.

"I'm really glad for you, Elliot."

"Things are really falling into place and ..."

"I held a tiny baby who was racked with chills and sweat today. I rocked him while he was going through withdrawal," interrupted Cathy.

Joe and Jenny came in from the kitchen with the coffee, and afterwards the evening came to an early end.

"You got your car and driver coming, Elliot?" asked Joe.

"It's not a limo yet, but it is a car and driver."

"How about giving a public servent a ride home, all this snow you know!"

"Sure."

Goodbyes were said, and as Jenny returned to the living room she noticed Cathy looking out on the terrace again.

"Vincent?"

"What?" asked Cathy.

"Are you waiting for Vincent? I mean you haven't mentioned him since your first day here, and yet it is obvious that you are thinking of someone else. I think Joe and Elliot are beginning to sense this, also."

"Jenny, I'm thinking of many different things. I'm taking in all of life at one time. I can't help but think of my job at the volunteer center, and the children I'm working with everyday. I also worry about the safety of the battered women. And yes, I have seen Vincent again. Somehow he is a part of what I think about."

"Well, I don't know anyone who would go out on a night like this," said Jenny.

"I hope not," agreed Cathy. "It might be dangerous."

With that they turned out the lights and went to bed.

Cathy decided Vincent wouldn't chance coming to the terrace in this storm, so she fell asleep dreaming of him in the snow. She was awakened by a tapping sound. She opened her eyes, and tried to determine if it had been part of her dream, or if she had actually heard it. There it was again, just over her head, coming from the other side of the wall. She jumped up, put on her robe, and stood there puzzled. She tapped back, and it was returned.

"Vincent!"

She got the basement door key and ran out to the foyer. She put her head against the door, listening, "Vincent? Are you there?"

"Yes," came back the answer in that wonderful voice.

She opened the door, and he came through into the dim light of the small Tiffany lamp which was on the side table next to the love seat.

"I was worried that you might try to make it to the terrace tonight. How did you get here?"

"I usually come through this basement to the terrace, but tonight, because of the storm, I thought you'd be more comfortable inside," answered Vincent. He stood by the door as he spoke.

"I'm glad you came. I have so much to tell you," said Cathy, as she grabbed his hand and led the way to the love seat. She noticed a hesitation and turned to face Vincent. "We might as well be comfortable. Come on!"

Vincent followed her to the seat. His heart was pounding as his love for her raced through him. He had determined, when he realized that he had been given a second chance for a relationship with Catherine, that he would not put obstacles in their way, that he would follow her lead and revel in her presence.

As they sat, it became evident that this was a very cozy arrangement. Vincent tried to make more room for Catherine, but she snuggled next to him, and he let her, enjoying the thrill of the feel of her.

Catherine was filled with the experience of her days. She could truly share with Vincent her feelings of concern and pathos for the people at the shelter and home. She had gone for a walk one day, and seemed to be led to a church around the corner. She volunteered her time, and since had been sent to various locations around the city, as she was needed.

"Catherine, it is truly wonderful what you have done in a few short days. How did it feel to hold the baby today?"

Vincent was thinking of Jacob, their son, and how Catherine might feel holding him. Would he ever see this?"

"It was wonderful and frightening. He was so pitiful!"

"But you held him close and comforted him."

"I tried, Vincent."

Catherine noticed the sweet smile on his face and the slight tilt of his head. She was still intrigued by his looks, and so she shifted her position up to her knees, facing him. She stared directly into his eyes, as she lightly touched his brow and traced her fingers over his high cheek bones and down his chin. Finally, she tollowed the exotic curve of his bow lip. It was soft like velvet, and she couldn't resist rubbing her cheek lightly over his mouth until her lips barely brushed his.

This was more intimate than Vincent had remembered in their relationship. She could feel him trembling as she pulled away, to once again gaze into his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," she said, trying to sense his reaction.

"You haven't. It's just that no one has ever touched me in that manner."

"Their loss! I intend to do it often, if you'll let me."

Vincent just shook his head, amazed that any new dimension could be added to their relationship. She had already given him laughter and now these wonderful sensual feelings which he was allowing to flood through his being. He would deny her nothing.

"I don't know anything about you, Vincent. Only that I have the feeling of total honesty from you, and you accept me and listen to me. Where is your home? Where do you live with this wonderful community?"

"Below, under the city."

"And it is a secret?"

"Yes, as I am."

"Oh!" exclaimed Catherine, remembering that she had already told Jenny.

"I couldn't bear it if I were treated like a freak as this world would certainly try to do," exclaimed Vincent.

"They'd have to get through me first," challenged Catherine.

"My little champion," said Vincent, as he put his arms around her.

And so it was that they spent the next hour with her sitting on his lap, her head on his shoulder, and his arms cradling her.

Finally, she said, "Vincent, for some reason I feel more comfortable like this with you than I have anywhere, or with anyone, since I woke up that morning at Diana's."

"I will always welcome you here."

"And Below? Down in that mysterious place under the city? It is incredible, that a society exists down there. But then, you are incredible anyway."

"With that, I think I'd better leave," said Vincent ,as he got up still holding onto Catherine.

"And the prince carried off the lady to the deep, dark cavern where they could be alone and shut all else out," storied Catherine.

Vincent gently brought her to her feet and gave her a gentle hug. It seemed all too quickly that he was gone into the darkness Below.

"Good night, Vincent," whispered Catherine. "You are amazing!"

*****

"Cathy, that's the last suitcase," yelled Jenny, as Cathy carried a cosmetic bag out of the bedroom.

"I thought you were just going away for the weekend? It looks more like a month!" teased Cathy as she looked at the three bags on the foyer steps.

"Well, you never know what a girl will need," retorted Jenny. "You'll be all right here alone?" Cathy nodded her head. "Promise me you'll stay put. I don't want to have to look for you when I get back," Cathy nodded agaiin. "Joe and Elliot said they'd look in on you."

"I'm sure they will," said Cathy.

"Well, there's my cab. See you Sunday night."

Cathy helped Jenny with her bags and watched as the cab pulled away. She was on her own. What did she want to do? She wanted to have dinner with Vincent. Tomorrow night would be perfect for a lovely candlelit dinner. She was very excited and full of plans.

The phone rang just as she got back into the apartment. It was Elliot.

"Cath, I thought we could have dinner tomorrow night, a real date, the theatre, a late supper, and dancing. What do you say?"

"Well, I've already kind of made plans," said Cathy hesitantly.

"Did Joe beat me to it?"

"No, not Joe."

"Oh!" said Elliot. This was beginning to feel all too familiar. "You sure you won't change your mind?"

"No. I'm sorry, Elliot."

"Me, too."

Elliot hung up and decided to visit Diana. He needed to see the picture from the other side.

"Come on up, Elliot," said Diana. "You look like someone who is in a losing battle." She watched him walk across the room. "Actually, you look like a little boy who didn't get chosen for the team."

"As usual your observations are right on. I need to talk to you."

"I'm here."

"Yeah, you are, aren't you? I wish I could say the same for Cathy."

"You aren't doing too well in that department?" asked Diana.

"How goes it with Vincent?"

"Oh, Elliot, I knew that I couldn't get to Vincent unless Catherine was out of the picture. That's where you came in. However, I have a feeling that Catherine is very much like him. No matter what, his every thought is of her. He is kind to me, but he is kind to everyone. I am his friend, and that is it."

"As far as Cathy is concerned," started Elliot, "I don't think it's so much that she's thinking of Vincent, it's just that she isn't thinking of me. It is really difficult to hold her attention. She's just slipping away. I have the feeling that one day we will wake up, and she will be gone again."

"It's possible. And then what will you do?"

"Diana? Are she and Vincent seeing each other?"

"I think so. I gave Jenny's address to Vincent. I'm sure he visits her. Now, let me ask you, has she remembered him and their relationship?" asked Diana.

"No. She is as vague as she was when she left here that night three weeks ago."

"Elliot, I think we are fighting the inevitable. Don't you see? She came back for him, to be with him. Whether she remembers or not, makes no difference; they are destined for each other, and they will be together."

"I think I always knew that. It's just that I hate to lose," admitted Elliot.

"And you love her and seeing her alive made you hope."

"Yes."

"Seeing her alive caused me to accept reality," stated Diana.

"Well, I guess I'm at that point. I just can't keep talking at her and receiving polite answers. She won't let me near her. She won't let me in. And I know it's the same with Joe. We stalk each other as though we were in a hunt, and the prey has escaped."

"Joe and I have had lunch a couple of times. He's really been in a bind at work. He hasn't had much time to think about it, but I know that he feels it, too."

'"She's like flotsam, Diana. She's not really there!"

Diana reached across the table and squeezed his hand. Then she gently lifted his fingers and intertwined hers with his. "Maybe, we'll have to be satisfied with good friends, and that's not bad."

"You're right. That's not bad," repeated Elliot as he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.

*****

Cathy waited anxiously for nightfall, a safe hour for Vincent to come. She was excited just thinking about her dinner plans. The weather had gotten better, and it was pleasant sitting out on the terrace. Cathy made herself some hot mulled cider, grabbed a book, and settled down to wait for Vincent.

The breeze was gently blowing her hair, and she looked up when she heard, "Catherine."

"I've been waiting for you. Do you realize that we have the place to ourselves? You can stay all night if you want."

"I don't think that I should," explained Vincent.

"How did I know that you would say that? Well, maybe not tonight, but you go back down wherever you go and tell them that you won't be home until Sunday. Then come tomorrow night at eight. I have something special planned," said Catherine, all at once, before she lost her nerve.

"You do, do you? I don't know!"

"Vincent, would you please spend tomorrow evening with me?" she invited.

"How can I look into those eyes and say no to anything you might ask?" queried Vincent.

"Oh, good!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around his neck.

He held her tenderly, and they turned around and around in a mock dance. They finally sat and talked about all the sad people in the world, and all the poor babies without mothers.

"I wish I could help all of them, Vincent. But all I can do is make my little corner better for some."

"Yes, that is all any of us can do."

"It will be Christmas in one week. I'm really loving the lights and decorations. Do you have a chance to see them, to walk the streets, Vincent?"

"I see what I can from dark alleys. It is enough to know the joy."

"I would want to take you by the hand and walk with you down Fifth Avenue."

Vincent chuckled a bit. "You would, too, wouldn't you?"

"Of course!"

"Will you feel safe here alone tonight?" asked Vincent.

"I thought you said you couldn't stay?"

"I would stay out here for awhile until you were asleep," corrected Vincent.

"You'll stay for awhile, then?"

"For awhile."

"But not out here. There is no reason I can think of for you to freeze out here." With this, Catherine opened the doors into the living room and went in, fully expecting Vincent to follow.

Vincent stood, transfixed, staring at the doors. It suddenly occurred to him how much this terrace reminded him of Catherine's balcony. He couldn't make himself walk through those doors.

"Vincent!" The sound of Catherine's voice startled him back to the present. "Be reasonable! It's cold out there; it's warm in here. So, come in!"

He smiled and slowly walked through the doorway.

"I really do appreciate this, Vincent."

"I'm just staying until you fall asleep," reminded Vincent. Everything in him wanted to stay with her, never to leave her side; but he knew she wasn't ready for the intensity which he felt. He needed every ounce of self-control to keep from whisking her away to his chamber; to never again let her out of his sight.

"It's getting late. You had better get in there," said Vincent, nodding towards the bedroom. "I'll sit here on the sofa. Is that suitable?"

"Okay! But tomorrow it will be different. Remember, something special, dinner and dancing right here in Chez Jennie. Good night, Vincent," said Catherine as she kissed the top of his head.

Catherine settled into bed, feeling happy and safe. She didn't know why she loved having Vincent so close. All she did know was that from that day one month ago when she first saw him, she felt warm and fulfilled when she was with him.

Vincent waited an hour, then went to her door. He looked in on her as she peacefully slept.

"Good night, my love. I am only a thought away, a dream's distance. We could not go on apart, nothing day after day, and so here you are once more. Sleep. Tomorrow you will awaken in my realm and hope awakens with you. I am ready and open to whatever you will ask of me." He quietly left, stopping at the garden wall to still his pounding heart.

*****

Cathy was busy all day shopping and preparing a special meal; boiled shrimp, crablegs, and clams casino for the first course, then pesto with linguini, spinach salad, and for the main course veal turodot with artichokes. She didn't know if Vincent had ever tasted this kind of food, but she wanted him to experience new flavors.

She selected wonderful music for dinner and great music for dancing after. Then she showered and oiled her body with the sweet smell of orange blossoms. She chose a dress from Jenny's closet. It didn't seem appropriate to wear a dress which Elliot had bought for her. It was a violet blue chiffon which rippled as she walked. All was ready for her special guest.

She lit candles all over the apartment. It seemed the thing to do. The table in the dining room shimmered with flowers, crystal, and sparkling china. Somehow, she could feel Vincent approaching, and in excitement she ran to the doors, in time to see him gracefully glide to the terrace from the wall. She opened the doors and stood there taking in his splendor. He wore high leather boots and a white shirt, reminiscent of eighteenth century romantics, ruffles and all.

"Do you know how beautiful you are, Vincent?" asked Catherine.

"You do have a way of disarming me," replied Vincent. "May I add that you look very beautiful, also."

"Everything is ready. Come in."

Again Vincent felt the hesitancy come over him. Catherine walked to him, took his hand, and raised it to her lips as she looked up at him. Then she walked backwards, still looking at him, leading him step by step into the candlelit living room. She closed the doors behind him and took his cape.

He watched her move, wonder in her every step. He couldn't identify all the emotions which were welling up inside of him.

"Dinner is ready. Please sit down."

She had the greatest pleasure watching him taste some of the foods with which he wasn't familiar. He had never had quite so much seafood or tasted pesto, and the hot bacon dressing was something different for raw spinach. All in all he enjoyed everything and even savored the wine. Indeed, he let her lead him through the dinner and tried not to think that this was the first time they had ever shared an intimate meal. Why had he never allowed this to happen before? Of what was he always so afraid?

After dinner they listened to music and sipped coffee. "Now, isn't this wonderful, Vincent?"

"Yes."

"And you're relaxed?"

"Yes."

"Good!" Catherine said as she took the cup from him and brought it to the table. She slowly returned to the living room, changed the music, and went to Vincent, holding out her hands.

"Will you please dance with me?'

Vincent could hardly breathe as he looked up at her. He put his hands into hers and got up to stand before her. She felt a quiver go through her body, as she raised her head to look into his eyes. They started to glide around the room, Vincent holding her away at proper arm's length; but as the evening wore on, he held her closer until they moved as one.

They didn't speak, only felt, and the intensity of Vincent's emotions were being shared by Catherine. This confused and frightened her. She had no idea why or how she could feel this deeply. This wasn't a casual relationship; this wasn't just caring for another person. The emoton was so deep that she could feel nothing but Vincent. It was all-consuming; she was close to losing consciousness.

Suddenly, there was a scream from the apartment overhead. Catherine lifted her head, and Vincent stopped in his tracks. There it was again. It was coming from the elderly woman who lived there. Then they heard a shuffling sound.

"We'd better find out what is happening," said Catherine.

"Stay here, I'll use the fire escape," said Vincent.

Catherine watched him leave and ran to the front door. She rang all the buzzers, and someone finally let her in. She wnt to the woman's door and listened. It was too quiet. She started pounding and shouting. The door opened, and a hand reached out and threw her against the wall inside. She could not believe what she saw and heard next. There was roaring and growling as a blur of blond hair, claws, and fangs ripped and tore at the two intruders. It was over so quickly, that she hardly had time to scream.

Catherine went to Vincent who was trying to compose himself. It had been months since he had lost control. He had hoped it would never have to happen again.

"The police will be here soon. Please go down and wait for me," said Catherine.

She checked the two men; they were still alive. And the woman seemed to be in shock. Catherine made sure that help was on the way and left.

Vincent was pacing outside when she got back.

"Are you bleeding?" asked Catherine as she noticed blood dripping on the stones.

"Maybe."

"Let me look at that."

"No! And all was going so well," he said.

"Vincent, let me look at your hand. Now!"

She brought him back into the kitchen and got some warm water and cotton. He had a deep slash across the back of his hand, and she was concerned.

"My father will take care of this when I get Below," he explained. "Catherine, aren't you terribly appalled by what you witnessed? I had hoped that I would never have to explain this to you. It was foolish to blissfully go on as we did, without your knowledge of that side of my nature. I am so sorry this happened. I think I must leave now."

Catherine didn't know what to say. She was more concerned that her emotions were doing flip-flops, then she was about Vincent's wild behavior. But she really didn't know what she felt, or how all these pieces fit together, so she just let him go.

"Please come tomorrow night, Vincent," Catherine said as he stood on the wall looking back at her.

She walked around the apartment cleaning and crying. What happened tonight? Why was she so upset? What were these feelings?

She sat curled in the corner of the sofa all night. When she thought of Vincent, it was as though as warm shaft was thrust deep into the pit of her sooul. She wanted to run from this; it was much too intense. She finally fell asleep there with her head resting on the back of the sofa, and her tears, now dried, staining her cheeks.

*****

Cathy woke up slowly and realized that she was very stiff. Her neck creaked as she sat up, and she touched the back of her head to feel the cause of the throbbing. There was a large bump caused when her head hit the wall. The night before became all too clear; it wasn't a dream. A wild Vincent had come to save the tenant upstairs, and as it turned out he also rescued Cathy. His behavior was terrifying, but necessary, as now in the clear, cold light of day she remembered the knife which was being held at her throat. She started shaking and crying once again.

The phone rang, and she straightened herself, blew her nose, and answered it.

"Cathy, how about a good Sunday morning brunch?" asked Joe.

"Oh, that would be wonderful. Thanks, Joe."

"Good! Pick you up at ten."

That was just what she needed. Joe was fun and safe. She had been ill-at-ease wth his light banter, but now he seemed like the perfect companion. She certainly wasn't ready to deal with her feelings for Vincent.

She got dressed and called Elliot. A nice drive through the park later would distract her until Jenny got home. He was more than happy to oblige.

The day passed pleasantly. Joe and Elliot, after all, were very nice people, and it was always obvious how much they cared for Cathy.

Jenny was home by the time Elliot's car pulled up to the brownstone. He and Cathy entered the apartment, laughing and joking. Jenny was surprised to say the least.

"Shall I call you tomorrow, Cathy?" asked Elliot.

"I'll be working until five, but after that sure!" she replied.

"You can count on it," said a very happy Elliot as he left.

"Well, what happened while I was gone? You seem to hav shifted gears!" commented Jenny.

"I really can't talk about it now," evaded Cathy.

So Jenny shrugged and started to unpack. It seemed that as she emptied her suitcases the weather got progressively worse. As if to underscore this, there were terrible noises coming from Cathy's room, opening and shutting drawers, slamming doors, and a bait of low mumbling and sobbing. The wind was blowing at gale force, there was lightning, and a clap of thunder so loud that it caused the two of them to run from their rooms.

The snow was blowing and swirling around and around the three walls of the terrace. It was wet, heavy snow mixed with sleep which pinged against the windows as it hit. The thunder and lightning continued giving an eerie, foreboding effect. The lights flickered and then went out, as Jenny and Cathy clung to each other.

"This looks very unnatural. I have the feeling that something is going to happen," said Jenny.

Cathy started shaking as Jenny held onto her. "Honey, what is it? What is the matter?"

They sat there in the dark with the lightning flashes emphasizing the mood, and Cathy tried to explain.

"It's Vincent," she started.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Oh, no! He's really wonderful. It's not him; it's me. He had been very kind, and I've been, well, I suppose you'd call it, a tease. He was too serious, and I wanted to bring a little happiness into his life. That's all. That is all I meant it to be and then ... and then ...." Cathy started crying uncontrollably.

Jenny moved her hand over Cathy's head to soothe her. "And then what?"

"Last night, while we were dancing ..."

"He dances?"

"Beautifully," Cathy blew her nose and continued, "I looked into his eyes and realized that I was being pulled into him. I had feelings that were so deep, so overpowering that I lost all control of my emotions. I was being overwhelmed, and I felt as though I had to escape.

"And so you turned to Elliot today," commented Jenny.

"It seemed safer. I don't know what's happening to me."

"I think you are falling in love, Cathy."

"I know," answered Cathy in a small voice. "I don't really know him."

"Well, as I see it, you have two choices. Break it off entirely, or take it a little slower," advised Jenny.

"Until I know more about him?"

"Gee, Hon, from the little you've told me, he seems a little weird."

"You don't know the half of it, and I can't tell you," admitted Cathy.

"Be careful. Don't get in too deep. Maybe your fear is warning you."

"Maybe."

"Are you seeing him again soon?"

"Yeah! You know it's funny. I miss him from one night to the next."

"You got it bad, girl. You've got it bad!"

The lights went back on, and the lightning stopped, but the storm continued raging. Catherine stayed awake waiting for the tapping on her wall. So much had been unresolved the night before, that she didn't know how she would react to Vincent. She might be better off if she never saw him again; and yet she waited for the tapping.

Vincent was filled with self-recrimination. He had let Father clean and dress his wound, but he would not accept his understanding. Vincent had told no one of Catherine's return; therefore, how could Father fully understand his mood? He lost control. He had hoped he had put that behind him. With his power and strength, he could have easily disarmed those men, but when he saw that knife at Catherine's throat, he became that raging thing, and in turn frightened her.

He felt her fear even now. Should he continue on? Would she want to see him? And yet, he moved slowly along the tunnels, ever closer to Catherine.

Finally, she heard it, a faint tapping. It was so soft that it would never have awakened her, but as it was, she had been sitting on her bed waiting and waiting.

Catherine flung open the basement door. In her excitement and joy of seeing Vincent, she forgot her fear.

"I've been waiting for you. How are you? How is your hand? Did you get it looked at?" she asked as she lifted his hand.

There was that exuberance which was full of questions, and it took Vincent by surprise. He went with her to the love seat, and they settled in comfortably, as this was getting to be familiar.

Catherine looked at his hand then lifted it upright and sized her own small hand to his. It made her giggle, the difference was amazing. Then she moved a finger up and down each of his to the tip of each pointed nail. It was as though her finger had its own memories. She was totally absorbed in the power and grace of his hand.

But again those feelings attacked her. She was being suffocated by them, by the enormity of this passion. How could this be? She pulled away and closed her eyes. She held her head and cried.

"Such fear, I have such fear! If it doesn't stop I know I shall die!"

Vincent stood and moved to the door. He would not cause her one more moment of grief. She was frightened of him; of his power, of what those hands could do.

"Please, Vincent, maybe we shouldn't see so much of each other for awhile. Not until I understand this fear."

"Whatever you wish," he said very softly through his tears.

She looked up, but he was gone.

'VINCENT!"  she shouted as she ran to the door, but he didn't come back. "I've hurt him! I know that I hurt him! I didn't want that."

*****

The week that followed was busy and full of Christmas. Jenny brought home a tree, and they had a great trimming party. Cathy brought little remembrance gifts for Joe, Elliot, Jenny, and even something for Diana. She didn't have much money, but she thought that she did well. It was a very busy week at the volunteer center. She helped cook meals, made up food baskets, and delivered them; she went caroling every afternoon and three evenings. It was great fun, and she only thought about Vincent every other moment.

However, she waited every night for the tapping. He didn't come. She missed him terribly, and she would cry herself to sleep.

Vincent was equally busy. The tunnels had to be decorated for Christmas, and the extra food supplies had to be brought down. William, after all, was making special treats. The Great Hall had to be opened and cleaned, and Vincent was working on a gift for Jacob. He only thought about Catherine every moment of every day.

On Christmas Eve, Elliot gave a grand dinner party, but by this time all the fun was wearing thin. Cathy's head was pounding, and she wanted to get back to the apartment. Maybe, just maybe, Vincent would come to wish her Merry Christmas. She managed to eat and have one dance with Elliot. When it was over, she thanked him for everything and begged to be excused. He could see that she was not well and had his driver take her home.

Jenny and Joe were having a great time, so Cathy just waved goodbye as she passed them on the dance floor. Elliot returned and explained her departure. He turned his attention to Diana, and the foursome danced into the wee hours.

Joe brought Jenny home, and she went in to check on Cathy. All was quiet, too quiet, so she turned on a light.

"Joe! She's not here!" exclaimed Jenny.

"What?" He went into the room and looked around.

"Does this seem strange to you? Her bed hasn't been slept in. Nothing is disturbed in here," said Jenny.

They started looking around and realized that all of her clothes were still there including her coat and boots.

"She didn't go out. The dress she wore this evening is in the closet, and her toothbrush is wet," observed Joe.

"Wait a minute! Her Christmas present from me, a robe and nightgown isn't here," said Jenny.

"So we know she got ready for bed. Then what? I don't think she'd go out for a walk in this weather wearing a robe and nightgown."

"She got ready for bed but never made it ..." said Jenny. She was really starting to worry.

Joe called Elliot. "Cathy's not here. Can we question your driver? Let me talk to Diana. Do you think you can question the driver? He's the last one to have seen Cathy. Ask him if he saw anything strange here or around her. I'll take care of this end. Keep in touch."

"Maybe she's upstairs visiting a neighbor," said Joe.

"No, Joe, she'd have to go outside."

"Well, I'll check anyway."

By early morning, they had exhausted all possibilities.

Jenny sat next to Joe on the sofa. She put her head on his shoulder and sobbed, "She's gone! She appeared, stayed with us for a short time, and then disappeared."

Joe put his arms around her, trying the best he could to comfort her. She didn't want to leave the apartment, but Joe made her go with him to his mother's for dinner. They kept calling the apartment to check. Nothing.

Elliot was ready to call out his reserves once again to find Cathy. He was pacing and on the phone for hours after Joe called. Nothing could be found, no trace of Cathy Chandler. Finally, Diana sat him down with a cup of coffee.

"Elliot, I think that she's safe. I think she's with Vincent."

"Really?"

"Yes. And nothing we do will make any difference. She will surface only when or if she wishes."

Elliot nodded his head, seeing the logic of what Diana was saying. His shoulders sagged as inevitability crushed him.

"Let's get a few hours sleep, and I'll take you to my sister's for dinner, okay?" invited Diana.

"Sure, If there's no news by then."

The four of them celebrated Christmas, but they were each lost in their own feelings. A friend was snatched from their midst, and each had their own ideas as to what happened, and each had to deal with Cathy's disappearance in their own way. Did the past month really happen? Was she ever really here?"

*****

Cathy thanked the driver and wished him Merry Christmas. Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with her keys. It seemed that she couldn't get inside fast enough. She had to get some kind of relief, for by this time not only did her head ache, but her heart was pounding in her chest.

She tore her clothes off; they felt too confining. She wanted something soft next to her skin, so she showered and put on her Christmas present from Jenny. It was a lovely white sleeping set, a cashmere challis nightgown and matching fleece robe. Cathy was somewhat comforted and sat at the edge of her bed, rocking herself. Her pounding head and racing heart started again, and she tried to distract herself by picking up the trail of clothes she had left. She made sure everything was in it proper place, even though it became increasingly difficult to use her trembling fingers.

Cathy went back to rocking herself and whimpering. She felt as though her very essence was trying to escape her body. What was happening to her?

Just as she was about to start screaming, she heard tapping on her wall. "Vincent! Vincent!" she whispered and ran to the door, unlocking it quickly. She was sweating and had a terrified look on her face.

"Catherine, I won't hurt you. I won't come any closer."

"Hold me, please hold me! I feel as if I'm losing myself," came her surprising reply.

"What is wrong? You aren't afraid to have me close?" asked Vincent.

"No. I was never afraid of you; I'm afraid of me and my feelings for you. No, please hold me before I fall apart."

Vincent gently enfolded Catherine in his arms, holding her close to his chest. He could feel her trembling and held her tighter.

"What is wrong with me, Vincent? I'm being pulled in different directions."

"I fully understand this trauma. Hush! You'll be fine. You're a part of me now." He lifted her off her feet and cradled her in his arms.

Amazingly, Cathy quieted down. She heaved a hugh sigh, and her breathing returned to a normal pattern. Her mind was blank; she wasn't thinking of anything, except that she was in Vincent's arms.

"Catherine, I thought you would never wish to see me again. I can feel your emotions, and I have felt your fear. I thought it was fear of the beast that I am."

"I'm sorry, Vincent. I knew that I had hurt you, but I didn't understand what it was that you were thinking. How could I? I never saw you as anything but my savior."

They clung to each other thinking of the past week of misunderstanding and unnecessary separation. Finally Vincent spoke, "I must ask something of you, Catherine. It is for this reason that I have come. There is someone Below who wishes to see you. I was very surprised that she even knew you, much less had a need to see you. Her name is Addie. She is very old and very ill."

"And she asked to see me?"

"Yes! I think her time is short, and her only request is to see you."

"How can I get ..."

"I will take you, Catherine. When would you be prepared to go?" asked Vincent.

Suddenly, Catherine buried her head in his shoulders and a shiver went through her. "Now, Vincent. I need to go now."

He closed the door and carried her through the basement to a door in the rear of the building. There was a flight of stairs down to the old coal bins. Under the stairs was an opening in the wall, behind which was a tunnel to what Catherine thought must be the bowels of the earth. In actuality, it was just the first level where Elizabeth's painted tunnels were on exhibit. Vincent put Catherine down so that she could walk alone and appreciate the works of art.

"They're wonderful, Vincent." They made it half way passed the painted walls when Catherine stopped. "Oh, no! Here it starts again!" she sobbed. She held her head. This was different; she was now able to discern her emotions. "It's a premonition, a terrible premonition!" Vincent held her hands as she looked deeply into his eyes. She asked solemnly, "Am I going to die, Vincent?"

"No! You mustn't even think that!" exhorted Vincent.

"Something will happen. This I feel strongly," said Catherine calmly as though she had resigned herself to her destiny.

"Do you wish me to go on, Catherine?"

"I'm ready, yes."

They continued down the tunnel until they arrived at Addie's chamber. Vincent entered first and led the way to the woman lying on the bed.

She was very old, and her face was wrinkled with little, leathery lines. Her hair was white and thin. She was very frail, and the hand she held out to Catherine was bony. She was dressed in white lace from head to toe.

"I didn't believe her when she said that you were alive and that she needed you; but I am glad that you are among the living," said Elizabeth, as she came out of the shadows.

"You know me?" asked Catherine.

"Yes, dear! I'm Elizabeth, and this is Addie. She is one hundred and one years old, but all of her aging has been done in this one year, since your last visit."

"Vincent, I don't understand. When was I here?" Catherine asked.

"Catherine." A soft, raspy voice attracted her attention. "Sit here by me."

Catherine sat on the bed, and Addie started speaking softly, "We must be alone."

"Please leave us. I'll be all right, Vincent," said Catherine.

When they were alone, Catherine looked deeply into Addie's eyes. "I do know you. I feel safe with you and comfortable. I was here, but you looked much different."

"Yes, my dear. I thank you for that first. I was able to unburden my soul, and so I was able to start this journey to life's end."

"I don't actually remember that, but I know it. I know that you had a great love, and there was a bitter ending, and that you never forgave your father. You were wearing a black lace mourning dress then."

"You are remembering, Catherine, in spite of yourself. Do you also remember that I was caught in a place where I was not quite dead or alive?"

"Betwixt and between," said Catherine.

"Yes. Catherine, I need something from you."

"What could I possibly have to give you?"

"Your death; I need your death. Our souls are wandering in limbo. Yours is caught in time, three years ago; mine is caught in time, sixty years ago. I have life, and I wish to die. You have death, and you need to live."

A chill went through Catherine.

"Take this child," said Addie as she lifted the white lace shawl which covered her. "It has taken me this year to make it for you."

Catherine fingered it in amazement. "It is beautiful, Addie. Thank you." She put it around her shoulders.

"Now, take my hands."

Catherine hesitated. She felt on the brink of life, and that was exactly where she was.

"Please, Catherine, let me die. Larry is waiting for me. It is Christmas. What better day for both of us to be re-born."

Catherine held onto Addie's hand, and tears ran down their cheeks. "Thank you, Catherine. Now, close your eyes. Don't be afraid. This is our destiny."

Their souls merged for a moment and then passed as Addie went into that place of light. Indeed Larry was waiting for her, but she could not continue on with him until Catherine fully made her transition.

Addie's hands went limp in Catherine's, and she knew that Addie had died. She started sobbing as though she had lost an old friend.

"Vincent! Elizabeth! She's gone."

They came in, and Vincent made sure that Catherine was well. She said she was, but in reality she was very confused and did not really understand exactly what had happened. She wrapped the shawl around her, went to the far corner of the chamber, and sat curled up in Addie's chair. She watched as Elizabeth prepared a clean coverlet for the body, and Vincent sent a message on the pipes.

"Vincent, this is what Addie chose as her reading. She asked that you do it," said Elizabeth, as she handed  him a piece of paper.

Soon six men arrived to carry Addie to the catacombs. Vincent went to Catherine and explained, "Addie requested that we have her services immediately after her death. Would you like to join us?"

"Could I stay here until it's over? I feel safe here," replied Catherine.

"Promise me that you will stay put. Don't wander in the tunnels."

"Don't worry. I wouldn't think of it."

She watched the final preparations, as a feeling of disbelief came over her. If she were to accept what had just occurred then she would have to admit that she had been dead. There were times when she caught a glimpse of the truth, but admitting it as fact was a quite a different matter. The old fear was coming back. What did Addie want her to do? Make a transition. But she knew this existence! What would she move onto? It was totally unknown to her.

"Addie knew Larry was waiting for her. I don't know what is waiting for me," reasoned Catherine.

"Wait a minute! Before you take her, I want to do something," said Elizabeth as she placed a sprig of holly in Addie's white lace, gloved hands. "All is ready."

The small funeral procession slowly left the chamber with Vincent and Elizabeth leading the way. Catherine ran to the entrance, as panic set in almost immediately. She looked down the tunnel and caught a glimpse of them as they turned a corner; all was dark. She got a candle and followed, staying in the shadows. The procession gathered more and more people, as it passed chambers on the way to the catacombs.

Catherine was amazed at the size of Vincent's community. She pulled the shawl over her head and blended in. When she reached the top of the stairs, however, she decided not to go any farther, remaining out of sight.

She leaned against the wall; she needed support. Something was happening to her. Once again her passion was surging; Vincent was filling her, overwhelming her. She put her head against the cool wall and tried to fight this feeling of losing contact with herself.

And then Vincent's voice, clear and steady, came floating up to her.

'Come back to me with all your heart.

Don't let fear keep us apart.

Trees do bend, though straight and tall;

So must we to others call.

Long have I waited for your coming home to me and

Living deeply our new life.'

Catherine heard Addie's voice. "Listen to him, Catherine. Listen. Have no fear."

'The wilderness will lead you

To your heart where I will speak.

Integrity and Justice with

Tenderness you shall know.

Long have I waited for your coming home to me and

Living deeply our new life.'

Again the voice, "He speaks to you, Catherine. He is your heart."

'You shall sleep secure with peace;

Faithfulness will be your joy.

Long have I waited for your coming home to me and

Living deeply our new life.'

The voice was now a whisper in Catherine's ear. "Don't be afraid to live. He is your joy. He is your life. Take that step. Decide to live."

Father intoned, "We will now have a moment of silent prayer."

"Vincent! Vincent!" echoed and reverberated throughout the catacombs. Everyone looked up in total awe, for standing at the top of the stairs stood Catherine dressed in white with the light gleaming behind her. They were sure they were seeing a spirit.

Vincent made it to the top of the stairs in five long strides.

"Catherine, what is it? What is the matter?"

"My love, my life," said Catherine as she touched his cheek. Then in the next breath she asked, "Our baby, what of our baby?"

Vincent held her close. Slowly the realization of what she had just said struck him. "Catherine, you remember!"

"More than that, I am truly alive; I am truly with you."

He tenderly carried her to his chamber and placed her on his bed.

"Sit right there. Don't move," said Vincent as he went to the cradle next to the table. "His name is Jacob, and he is, indeed, beautiful."

Vincent placed their son in Catherine's arms. She was almost afraid to breathe as she touched each little finger and then traced his eyebrows and lips. Gently, she lifted his head and held him against her cheek. The love which flowed from her was warm and caressed her soul as it surrounded Jacob. She could only stare at him as a new, sweet passion rose within her.

The citizens of Below started slowly wending their way out of the catacombs. Addie wanted her funeral to be part of the Christmas festivities, "A celebration for all." However, first they must find out about the spirit which visited them. What could it mean?

Father was the first to reach Vincent's chamber, then Mouse followed by Jamie.

What they found was a mother smiling sweetly at her child, and Vincent proudly standing by. It was not to be believed.

"Is this a Christmas miracle?" asked Mouse.

"I think it is, Mouse," whispered Father. "I think it is."

END