Wizard and glass - Stephen King [177]
He tried other ways into her memory with no success—every path he tried ended in that bright pinkness, first obscuring her recollection and then coalescing into a full moon. It meant nothing to Roland; he’d heard of blue moons, but never pink ones. The only thing of which he was sure was that the old woman had given Susan a powerful command to forget.
He considered taking her deeper—she would go—but didn’t dare. Most of his experience came from hypnotizing his friends—classroom exercises that were larky and occasionally spooky. Always there had been Cort or Vannay present to make things right if they went off-track. Now there were no teachers to step in; for better or worse, the students had been left in charge of the school. What if he took her deep and couldn’t get her back up again? And he had been told there were demons in the below-mind as well. If you went down to where they were, they sometimes swam out of their caves to meet you . . .
All other considerations aside, it was getting late. It wouldn’t be prudent to stay here much longer.
“Susan, do you hear me?”
“Aye, Roland, I hear you very well.”
“Good. I’m going to say a rhyme. You’ll wake up as I say it. When I’m done, you’ll be wide awake and remember everything we’ve said. Do you understand?”
“Aye.”
“Listen: Bird and bear and hare and fish, Give my love her fondest wish.”
Her smile as she rose to consciousness was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. She stretched, then put her arms around his neck and covered his face with kisses. “You, you, you, you,” she said. “You’re my fondest wish, Roland. You’re my only wish. You and you, forever and ever.”
They made love again there on the bank, beside the babbling stream, holding each other as tightly as they could, breathing into each other’s mouths and living on each other’s breath. You, you, you, you.
13
Twenty minutes later, he boosted her onto Felicia’s back. Susan leaned down, took his face in her hands, and kissed him soundly.
“When will I see ye again?” she asked.
“Soon. But we must be careful.”
“Aye. Careful as two lovers ever were, I think. Thank God thee’s clever.”
“We can use Sheemie, if we don’t use him too often.”
“Aye. And, Roland—do ye know the pavillion in Green Heart? Close to where they serve tea and cakes and things when the weather’s fair?”
Roland did. Fifty yards or so up Hill Street from the jail and the Town Gathering Hall, Green Heart was one of the most pleasant places in town, with its quaint paths, umbrella-shaded tables, grassy dancing pavillion, and menagerie.
“There’s a rock wall at the back,” she said. “Between the pavillion and the menagerie. If you need me badly—”
“I’ll always need you badly,” he said.
She smiled at his gravity. “There’s a stone on one of the lower courses—a reddish one. You’ll see it. My friend Amy and I used to leave messages there for each other when we were little girls. I’ll look there when I can. Ye do the same.”
“Aye.” Sheemie would work for awhile, if they were careful. The red rock might also work for awhile, if they were careful. But no matter how careful they were, they would slip eventually, because the Big Coffin Hunters now probably knew more about Roland and his friends than Roland ever would have wished. But he had to see her, no matter what the risks. If he didn’t, he felt he might die. And he only had to look at her to know she felt the same.
“Watch special for Jonas and the other two,” he said.
“I will. Another kiss, if ye favor?”
He kissed her gladly, and would just as gladly have pulled her off the mare’s back for a fourth go-round . . . but it was time to stop being delirious and start being careful.
“Fare you well, Susan. I love y—” He paused, then smiled. “I love thee.”
“And I thee, Roland. What heart I have is yours.”
She had a great heart, he thought as she slipped through the willows, and already he felt its burden on his own. He waited until