I'm petrified and cannot even cry out as John shakes me like a rag doll.  I'm as weak as a kitten.  My arms are throbbing and almost have no feeling in them.

The mask then lifts from out of the blue.  I see it happen clear as day as the light that was shuttered shines through his eyes.  I see my John emerge from wherever he was taken.  He's come back to me.  He's come back to us.

"Karen!"  He sucks in an irregular breath.

Why does my name on his tongue after so long of not hearing it from his lips almost drive me to my knees?

He looks at me first transfixed with wonder for a long arrested moment; and then as he looks down at his hands gripping me, horror rushes to his face.

Immediately he lets go.

I sag down on my heels nearly falling.

"I'm sorry.  I am so very sorry.  Please forgive me."  His voice cracks.

His hands stretch out beseechingly...begging.  He needs to touch me to ensure I'm all right but he's not sure of what I will do.  His hands fall to his sides.  He's aghast by what he has done.

Rubbing my arms instinctively, I just want to comfort him, to assuage his guilt that's etched all over his face.

He reels back and I reach out trembling hands to touch him, to steady him.  "It's all right, John.  You weren't you.  Please don't blame yourself.  I don't."

All I can hear is a heart-rending wail.  His legs buckle and I manage to catch and bring us both to the ground.

"Shh," I soothe him, clasping him to me and rocking him, my mouth close to his ear.

His whole body is shuddering.

I don't think about what I'm saying.  It's just a stream of consciousness that flows from me.

"You're a good man.  You mustn't beat yourself up over this.  You were very sick.  But you're going to be fine.  We'll make sure of that.  You have friends who care deeply for you.  You have a woman who is probably scared to death with worry.  Kathy?"

He looks up at me at the mention of her name.  I dab at the sweat trickling down his cheeks with my fingers.  There's blood from a cut on his eyebrow.  That must have been from the fall.  

"She's waiting back home for you.  Home is where she is, where your heart lives.  It's where love is found, where you're surrounded by it."

The violent tremors slowly ease in their magnitude.  He retreats.  I can sense his withdrawal.

"I need to recollect myself."

He's flustered, maybe even ashamed to have anyone see him in this dire condition, at his most vulnerable.

What words can I use to convey that there is no shame in sickness?  Will he hear them?  No, I will not deprive him of his pride.

"If you need to be alone, if you want privacy, I can go for a short walk.  You can stay in the car where it's warm."

Indecision marks him.  He's unsure what his next step should be.  

"It's dark out," he says then in surprise as he realizes the blackness of the night.  He looks down at his wrist to check his watch.  It's a normal motion but it seems to remind him of how far away he really was.  "It's very late.  I can't let you go off on your own at this hour.  What kind of man would I be to permit a woman to walk unprotected?  Besides, I don't wish to be alone."

That definitely sounds like the dear sweet man I know.  

"We could walk together then.  It's only a short distance to where I was intending to bring you.  We're at the bluffs near the waterfall.  We came here on a picnic once." 

We also had made love at the foot of it.  

He makes an effort to stand and I let go of him.  His balance is good and the color has returned to his face.

"Let me just get the blanket."  I retrieve it from the back seat and wrap it around his shoulders.

We tread in silence, but so many questions are hurtling through my mind.  What did he mean by obliterating his home?  Who was this Evan he spoke of and the woman?  And worst of all, who was he willing to sacrifice his life for and why?

I won't pressure him to discuss it.

The terrain is very rugged.  There's a low-lying mist encompassing everything.

I help him climb up to the ledge where we can hear the tiny roar of the cascade of water flowing down like feathered wings from the escarpment.  We sit down on the cold stone pavement.

There was no way to prepare me for John's next remarks after we sit in awkward silence for what seems like an eternity.

"It's my fault you know that she's no longer here."

I cock my head at him.  "Who, John?"

"Uma," he breathes out with an anguished sigh.

I spin to him bewildered.  "What do you mean?"

He rests his head wearily on the solid rock formation behind him.  

"They killed her."

A sudden burst of senseless phrases ensue like he's been holding them back forever and can no longer do so.

"I couldn't prevent or stop it.  I couldn't agree to their plan so they dispensed with her.  I can't believe she's gone.  She was always kind to me."  He buries his face in his hands.

"John!"  I gape at him, my jaw dropping.  Am I actually hearing this?

I tear away his fingers and turn his face to make him look at me.  "Uma's not dead.  She and Andy went to Australia to live.  Don't you remember the big party we threw for them?"

Then I recall that evening.  How could he?  He hadn't been there as I had searched through all the familiar faces for his own and Kathy's.

My God!  My stomach lunges downward as my chest constricts with the sharp impact of his conviction.  Where would he get such a horrendous idea?  Is this the secret that triggered, sent him over the bend and scuttling into the darkness?

Even if he hadn't been at the party, surely he had overheard conversations about the leaving among all of us and between Andy and Uma themselves.

John hangs his head and says dejectedly, "That's the pretext they gave everyone to alleviate suspicion, upset and any tension caused by her absence.  They had to have a plausible reason for her not being the guardian anymore.  I don't think even Uma knew what was to come while she was making preparations for the trip."

Guardian?  He's speaking in riddles.  The enormity and depth of John's madness rocks me soundly, but I know I need to make this clear to him as succinctly as I can.

"I don't know who 'they' are but they're not real.  I can give you unequivocal proof that Uma is alive and well."

I turn my purse upside down and scatter all its contents where we sit.  I rifle through all the junk rapidly searching for it.  There it is.  I find a photograph and a postcard that Andy and Uma had individually sent to all of the pub regulars.  Had he missed his?

I force his head up to look at it.  "Recognize her signature?  Now look at the picture.  This picture is dated October 10th.  That's just a few weeks ago."

He first looks at me suspiciously with doubt blatant in his eyes.  Then after seeing the bona fide evidence, he takes it in his hands so delicately holding on to something fragile and precious, like a life he believed he had a part in snuffing out.

His eyes traverse over her animated image incredulously and he faintly touches it.  "Can it be true?  She's not...She's...?"

"Dead?  No, John.  Oh, no.  These beings who you've been seeing aren't there.  They're in your mind.  You can't listen to what they say.  They're lying to you."  I run my hand down the side of his face caressing it softly.

For a moment I fear he will regress.  Then he does something that cuts to the core of my being.  He starts crying and I know for sure it's with intense relief.

"Thank God," he gasps out over and over again.

I grieve for him in his torment.  I think it's an appalling travesty that no one knew what he was going through, the extent of his suffering.  

Taking him in my arms again, I just hold on letting him release until there's nothing left.

In the wee small hours he falls into a profound slumber after giving me the barest details about Evan and Claire and what he was ordered to do.  It seems preposterous that he would give credence to all they told him. 

But I'm not the one who carries his crutch.  My eyes and ears are blind to his visions.  All I did was let him know that at no time did I ever meet a woman matching Claire's appearance at the pub on the dates and times he gave. 

Before dropping off he whispers that he's crazy.  Where before I would have lambasted him for this comment, now I just quietly tell him there's things he can do to combat it.

After putting my jacket beneath his head and ensuring the blanket covers him, I head back to my car.  I'm desperate to find my phone.  I don't know what I did with it.  I can't find it anywhere.

I have no way of letting Jeffrey know what has happened and why I haven't returned sooner.  He will be frantic with worry and possibly livid.  I just have to make him understand.  That's a conversation I'm not looking forward to.

John's still sleeping the sleep of the undamned when I return from my aimless search.  How can I rouse him?  He needs the healing rest.

I pull my arms around my chest trying to keep warm.  The shelter of the rocks has diverted most of the wind and cool lake breeze from striking us.

It was moments before I gazed at him to find his open brilliant blue-green eyes staring back at me.

"You're awake," I say rather stupidly.

He sits up gingerly trying to erase the stiffness from the hardness of his bed from his bones and muscles.  He gives me back my jacket and insists that I don the blanket.

It's ebony all around but the light of the moon has descended.

"May I ask you a question?"  I have to broach what I'm sure will be a taxing subject.

"You already have."  He permits himself a thin smile.

I don't return it for my query is earnest and needs to be addressed.

"Are you taking any medication?"

As he tenses and then winces, I know I have my answer.

"I can't concentrate.  It interferes with my work.  The chemicals dull my senses and impede my creativity.  They inhibit."

His frankness about it touches me.  I had asked him this before when we were dating and had never got a straight response.

My chin rises as I look up at him.  "John, I think it's unwise especially when these hallucinations are hounding you to such an extent.  They have so many new types of drugs to combat this than they did back in your time, ones with less debilitating side effects."

He seems disillusioned and disinclined to my suggestion.

"In your movie, by the end of it, you were almost free of this disease.  You still saw the apparitions but you were able to ignore them as they had no more power over you.  Once they lost their strength and grip on you, they couldn't speak or do anything but occasionally pop up in your mind."

"You were able to control it through medicine.  That's because decades had passed and insulin shock treatments were no longer the norm.  I know it's weird to talk about this because you're the only man who aged throughout his movie yet you came here still a young man.  But you had a long fulfilling life then, and you can have an even better one here.  I want you to have that John.  You deserve it."

I stop as he looks off into the waterfall then back at me.

"The images have become increasingly more harrowing and vicious."

"How often?"

"Sometimes weeks go by...other times, just a few days.  I have to do something.  I do not wish to encumber Kathy."

He looks so lost; a man rudderless with no control over his fate.

I race to reassure him.  "She cares for you.  I'm sure the last thing she thinks of you is a burden.  I'm sure if she were here instead of me, she'd implore you to take a recourse of action that would free you of this...this curse."  I'm not able to hold back my harsh resentment of his affliction.

I only say one more thing on this topic.  "I have a doctor that I see.  I'm sure she could refer you to a specialist on your condition."

Brightly assessing me, he assimilates what I am telling him about me but he doesn't probe nor follow up on my proposal.

He changes the subject matter abruptly before I can extract a promise from him that he will at least go to see a psychiatrist.

"I appreciate everything you've done for me tonight.  However, this could cause enormous difficulties between you and...between you and Jeffrey.  I do not want to jeopardize that close bond."

For the very first time, John has mentioned Jeffrey by his Christian name instead of obliquely referring to him as "he" or pursing his lips and calling him "Wigand".

That again touches me gravely as well as his concern.

"This won't endanger that.  We're strong and solid."

He angles his head studying me and says softly.  "You're still lovely as ever.  Being in love agrees with you.  You're calmer these days.  Where is the angry tigress always ready to leap with talons outstretched?"

"She's still part of me but I only let her out to play on special occasions.  Easier on the nails you see.'

He laughs.  What a glorious sound.

"You're so deliciously flawed, Karen.  That was always a big part of your appeal.  You never claimed to be perfect or even strove for that."

A warm tinge creeps up on my skin.  I'm somewhat embarrassed by his bold observations so I skirt from sentiment to sarcasm.

"I'm surprised you would even notice details like that.  You've been so busy turning a blind eye to me every chance that you could.  You never talk to me.  You never say hello.  Did I miss the obituary notice of my early demise?"

I know that was terribly unfair of me to put him on the spot and to be so damn flippant after what we've just discussed but even now; it still rankles as I don't understand.

"In fact, I have a theory as to why you wanted me firmly transplanted in outer space somewhere."  So I explain to him what I wrote at the beginning of this story his reasons for his avoidance.

When I finish, his unswerving acute stare rattles.  What?  Did I get it wrong?  I thought I had it and him all sewn up.

"That is an interesting and entertaining hypothesis but sadly it rates higher on the fiction scale than in fact."  

In other words, don't jump to conclusions or put words in his mouth.

The sky begins to brighten.  Soon the sun will slip over the horizon and our journey back home can begin.

"I have to ask something of you now."  

He takes me aback by picking up my hand.

"Don't take this the wrong way."

Oh Dear!  What's coming now?

"I don't mean to sound insensitive or cruel.  I will always be eternally grateful for how you gave me guidance when we were together.  You were the first woman to pay me attention other than mere sexual interest..."

Where is he going with this?  It sounds like he's letting me down easy but from what?  And then...it just comes to me.

"You're telling me to butt out of your life."

John looks forlorn but he doesn't break away from my eyes.  "Essentially," is all he replies.

One thing both of us had been born with was an abundance of brutal bluntness.

His words prick like a rose's thorn but he continues gently wanting to clarify.

"You gave me guidance," he repeats, "and direction.  But that was the problem in the end, wasn't it?  You led and I followed.  You needed more and I couldn't give it to you."

My head bows as I take in the heavy subtext.  This man has constantly astounded me and caught me unawares since the day I met him.  He has done it yet again.

I never knew John would discover the real reason I had left him.  I always assumed he thought it was because of Jeffrey and I had been content not to dissuade him of this as it was easier than hurting him more than I already had.

He tilts my head up with his fingers under my chin.  "Now I need more, a chance to prove that I can be a full contributing partner in a relationship.  I'm ready for that step.  I've found the ideal person who I can give my everything to."

"Don't be sad.  It was only through you that I was enabled to analyze myself and see the things that were lacking and that I desired to change."

"Do I remind you of failure?  Because that's not how I see you or ever saw you."

"I know, Karen.  I can still read you.  You're not a hard study."  He strokes one thumb along my cheekbone.

"It would be hard to be close to you in a discernable way though, a way that I know you would prefer me to be.  I've had to bandage the open wound to keep it from festering and to guard it from further inflammation."

His descriptive metaphors undeniably sum up his position.  He goes to say more but I put a finger on his lips.

"I understand John.  Thank you for explaining it to me."

He silently nods.

"But while we're playing this game of true confessions, I have one of my own to relay.  I never faced your illness until tonight.  When we were a couple, it scared the bloody hell out of me.  That's why all the jokes you made about being crazy made me...crazy.  You once said I was petrified of my own reaction if you ever flipped out.  I denied it at the time but it was true."

"That's why I had to be here for you today.  I felt I owed it to you, to make up for all the times I wasn't supportive or looked the other way when you may have wanted to talk about it."

He squeezes my hand.  "It seems we both failed each other."

Moisture in my eyes, I dip my head in agreement.  "But we're not failures.  That's the difference."  I wipe the dampness from my face.  "I know it's not my place anymore to be centrally involved in your life.  I'll leave that in the very capable hands of another ravishing redhead."

We both laugh once more.

"You'll still always be a part of me."

"I remember you saying that the last night.  You said that if I needed you, you'd be there.  You kept your promise.  Amicus usque ad aras," he murmurs.

"Oooh," I coo, "That sounds so Maximusy.  What does it mean?"

"A friend to the last extremity."

"Just not overt ones."

He gestures with his hand over his heart to show me that's where I'll always belong.

The conversation has been so laden with meaning and emotionally draining that we  decide to lighten it for both our sakes.

After a few moments, I arch an eyebrow at him.  "So I hear you're a runner now?  Tell me.  Are your thighs as nicely developed as your biceps are?"

I grin as John groans and rolls his eyes.

"I'm going to stop wearing short-sleeved t-shirts," he says dryly.

I smother a giggle.  "But not the white one.  Please tell you haven't discarded that one."

He gives me a look like I'm totally bonkers then mutters something about Kathy favoring it also and that the two of us were comparable in that we were both complete sex maniacs every time he wore it.

"Okay, Nash.  That's a little too much information."  I playfully hit him on the shoulder.  "I don't have to be invited into the bedroom you both share."

I add, "I'm glad you run.  It's great exercise and it helps to keep to a steady routine of eating right and fitness.  You can't work 24/7 John.  Is your running partner able to keep up with you?"  I thought I had asked the latter pretty nonchalantly.

He comes back with, "Do you still indulge in this grudge against Jessie?"

At my wide-eyed look, he points to his throat.  "It's in your voice.  Your tone becomes shrewish."

What a darling pronouncement.  Thank you, John.  

I give a shrug of exasperation and try to rearrange my expression.  "I don't dislike her.  She's funny and she makes a great Screwdriver and..."

"And those shallow qualifications mean nothing.  You don't care for her particularly because she's now attached in some way not just to one but now to two men you've had conjugal relations with.  Your poor self-image is showing you a distorted picture again, Karen."

How is he able to do that?  He's been apart from me for months and he can so readily pick up vibes from me just like that?

"How do you know about Jessie and Jeffrey?"

He gives me a look like I'm a child.  "Those charming little squabbles at the bar the two of you had and then everything would be quiet until another outbreak occurred made it easy to put two and two together.  You are so very aggravating at times.  Why do you feel threatened by her?  You're a beautiful woman in your own right but you're your worst enemy."

These words I've heard before by another man but hearing them from John really makes them sink in.

"It's like you feel you have to obsessively compete with her in some eternal contest with the prize being who?  Jeffrey?  Me?  You've already won his heart.  So why do you do it or do you even know?"

I'm chagrined and humbled by his tremendous insight.  Trust John to tell it like it is.

He then slyly smiles to relieve some of the smarting; his eyes harboring a dark twinkle.  "I'm flattered that you still feel slightly territorial.  Maybe that tigress hasn't completely conceded her turf."  He actually smirks.

"You and your colossal arrogance!" I shout out glowering at him.  "I am not jealous John Nash on your behalf."  The utter gall of him!

I would smack him silly but then I see the humor in his truth even though it's also pathetic.  "Heck, maybe I am a little.  You're a hard man to let go of.  I just want the best for you.  I always have.  But, okay; I confess.  I'm glad you're with Kathy and just friends with Jessie."

"It worried me a little there before Kathy arrived on the scene.  I thought maybe you were falling for her.  She is an attractive woman."

He scoffs.  "You have such a low opinion of my being able to grasp a social situation and see it for what it is.  I knew she was with Lachlan.  I truly just relished the opportunity of having a friendship with a female without having any complications of seduction or sex entering into it."

I believe him but yes I guess by habit, I still think of myself as his educator.  Well, here and now I am retiring. 

"You do look so happy when you're with Kathy.  I think she's very good for you."

"She is."  He says this with complete confidence and absolute certainty.  He knows wholeheartedly he's found his counterpart.

Thinking of Kathy prompts him.  "It's time to go back."

He helps me to my feet.  We both kind of hobble our way down the steep hill feeling the soreness from tight cramped muscles.  As we approach the car, the road is empty save for my vehicle and one other.

Zack, Carol...and Jeffrey alight from it.

JEFFREY

I wasn't having the greatest of days when all of this went down.

I had just learned that my collaboration with my lab partners on the book we were writing would have to take a hiatus as one colleague has just been diagnosed with lung cancer.  A four pack a day habit has finally taken its toll on his long-suffering body.

He roughly has three to six months to live.  He's only forty-five and has four children ranging in age from two to seventeen.  It makes me incensed that this senseless tragedy may have been preventable if he had only wanted help to fight his addiction.  He didn't.

Now he'll leave behind a devastated wife; and four kids become fatherless.  I know, get off my soap box.  Who am I to preach?  I'm just his friend who's known him for eighteen years and has been sickened by hearing the worsening hacking cough every time I saw him, who then had to stand helplessly by and watch him outside stamping his feet to stay warm in the worst weather imaginable while he got his fix.  Who am I?  I'm just an ex-tobacco scientist who happens to know exactly how he was sucked in by nicotine.

What other stellar events happened today?

Spring fever in the middle of late fall has stricken students in most of my classes.  Talk about hyperactive, inattentive, loud, hormonally charged adolescents.  I'm pretty good at keeping my cool.  But what don't they understand about, "Let's settle down now and try to get some work done here?"

I was the one who yearned desperately to be sent home from school.  It would have been no punishment at all.

So now you have an idea of what kind of mood I was in when I got a call from the office saying someone named Carol was trying to reach me. 

It didn't occur until I saw the number jotted down and saw it was the pub's who it was.  Why would Carol be phoning me?  Something to do with Zack?  I looked at my watch.  It was going on 6 pm.  I should have been on my way home by now.

There was no hurry though.  Karen wouldn't be there.  She had left a message saying she would be late, something about an emergency arising.  Work again keeping her busy.

Not thinking that Carol's call was that critical, I organized my paperwork for marking and my schedule for the next day and shoved it all into my briefcase.  On my way out the door, I called the pub.  Jessie answered.

"Jess.  Hi.  It's Jeffrey.  Is Carol by any chance still around?  She left a message for me."

There was a peculiar pause as if she hesitated then rushed to fill it in.  "Uh...yes, she's here, Jeffrey.  I'll go find her for you.  Hang on."

It didn't take too long before Carol came on the line.  I listened for the few minutes it took for her to say what she had to say.

Christ!  My day is shot to hell now.

"I'm coming down there, Carol.  Yeah, I'll try to reach her.  Thanks for letting me know.  Bye."

I just stood there for a few minutes taking it in.  So much for the work theory.  She's so very good at not lying but not exactly telling the truth either.  Creative semantics.

I'm going to sound awful callous here.  My first thought and gut reaction should have been for her safety and it was a close second behind, "I really don't need this, Karen."

I get over to the pub as quick as I can.  While en route, I'm wondering how this all came about.  As far as I have observed, Karen and John are no longer close.  I've never seen them having a conversation or sharing a drink.

Would that bother me if I had?  No, I'm secure in the love we share for each other.  The only time I felt threatened by that relationship was when we broke up and she was with him.  I've never given it a second thought since we got back together. 

But now the more that I'm thinking about it, the more disturbed I'm feeling.  Nash's usual manner is sullen bordering on rudeness.  He's definitely not Mr. Personality.  At second glance maybe he's just that way when I'm around.  Maybe his bruised ego makes him standoffish.  So, no, I'm not his biggest fan.  Now you add in his illness to that sparkling demeanor and he becomes a potential powder keg waiting to ignite.

What has she gotten herself into?

Evidently, I'm the last person to hear about Nash's meltdown.  It's numero uno on the pub grapevine channel.  I walk in there and everyone's buzzing about it.  I don't know all the details so I try to keep my alarm in check.  A few people come up to me asking about Karen.  Has she come home?  Is John with her?  Are they all right?  I fill them in that I'm just as clueless as they are as I search for Carol or Zack.

I can't find either of them.  I excuse myself from our friends who are genuinely anxious for their wellbeing and make my way to the bar.  I figure if anyone knows the true story it will be whoever was tending bar at the time.  That would be Jessie and Loreta.

Naturally, because of our friendship, I turn to Jess.  "Okay, I need the lowdown on this.  What happened?  How bad was John's attack?"

Poor choice of words but the last thing I cared about was being politically correct.

Jessie leans forward on the bar to make herself heard above the regular ruckus of happy hour.

"It was pretty bad, Jeffrey.  He didn't recognize Karen or any of us."

"So she just tried to see what was wrong with him when she went up to his table?  How did he seem at first?  Was he drinking?  Was he drunk?"

She bites her lip nervously.  "He looked terrible, like he'd been on a three day bender.  I only served him one beer.  He didn't reek of alcohol.  No, he was sober."

"What about Kathy?  Was she with him?"

Shaking her head, Jessie says, "I tried to call her at her apartment and at work.  I don't know where she is.  He's been in here by himself since early afternoon."  Then she leans her head heavily on her arm that's propped up on the counter and closes her eyes for half a second.  "I knew I should have said or done something earlier the night he first had problems here."

This is new scuttlebutt that I haven't heard.  "What? This wasn't the first time he showed signs of instability?  There was a prior incident?"

"She didn't tell you?"

Obviously feeling like she's let the cat out of the bag, Jessie sighs.

"Apparently not."

"Jeffrey, I'm sure she would have confided in you eventually."

She then churns out the details of when Nash had been talking to God knows who and had knocked his chair and himself down.

I can't believe what I'm hearing.  "Nash already had flipped his lid once?  There were other witnesses to this and no one did anything?  How is that possible?"  My voice is rising equal to my level of frustration

"We tried to help him.  You can ask Arthur about it.  He just broke away from us.  I'm sure Karen thought she could handle the situation on her own.  I mean she does have a history with him." 

"That's not what I meant.  You have a man here who is a known psychotic relapsing.  Why didn't someone call Stephen to get him some medical attention?   Why would you risk having him harm someone?  Are you telling me today could have been preventable?"

I'm trying very hard to be patient and understanding but I don't get why no one did anything to deter another episode such as this from occurring not only for the pub's staff and patrons' safety but for John's as well.

Not always being able to censor myself, I continue making my vexation known at the last person I really want to vent at.  I rail at her.  "You see Karen getting in over her head.  You didn't think I would want to know about it?  I thought we were friends Jess.  So now look what has happened.  When, you saw her today trying to play Wonder Woman again, why didn't you stop her or call me at least and let me know so I could have?  Or did you just let this ridiculous feud the two of you got going interfere with your better judgment?"

I can see I've greatly affronted her.  She walks away from me and then she pivots and stalks back stabbing at me with her fingers letting me have it.

"First off, I'm not Karen's keeper.  She's a grown woman and can damn well make her own decisions whether they're smart or not.  You think she would have listened to me anyways, of all people?  Short of body tackling her to the floor, no one could have stopped her.  You should know that.  Second, all of this happened so quickly.   There wasn't time to react or think things through.  Zack, Jack and Jim were on it but then both John and Karen just bolted out the back door."  Her voice too flares out trying to get her perspective across.

"Hindsight is 20/20.  None of us could have predicted that this would escalate, Jeffrey.  John is a quiet, non-violent man.  And in all fairness, I don't think you're taking into account what would be best for him as well."

Her tone softens again as she sees me take off my glasses and pinch the bridge of my nose trying to clear my head.  "Karen is your prime concern yes.  But John's not some deviant wacko, Jeffrey.  He has a serious illness and part of that means he's paranoid.  If we go after him with guns blazing wanting to take him down, what will that do to him?  We just wanted to diffuse the situation and calm him." 

She then adds, "I'm sure Karen had the same idea."  She puts a steaming cup of coffee in front of me and places her hand on my arm.  "Besides it may be over now.  Maybe he's regained control and they're talking things out."

I take a deep breath and then sheepishly smile at her.  "Okay, I guess I deserved that blast."  

I then revert to being solemn.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to lash out at you or blame you.  I'm just fearful that she'll be injured whether John intends to do that or not.  I just want them both to be found safe.  Then if he needs care, we can decide as a group what should be done for his benefit."

"I understand.  What can I do as your friend to help you?  Name it and I'll do it."

"I can't think right now," I admit to her.  "I've called her cell a few times and it just keeps going to voice mail.  I've left a message for her.  It's a waiting game now."

"Do you want some space, a little freedom from prying but good-intentioned eyes?  Why don't you use the back office?  No one's in there."

"Thanks, I think I need that.  Jess, I did mean it when I said I didn't blame you."

"I know."  She smiles and leaves me alone in the small room.

Sitting in there, all I can think of is Nash's movie.  As I recall it, John hadn't been a complete pacifist during his bouts of insanity.  My mind sprints ahead to critical scenes.  There was that conference.  How many men did it take to subdue him before giving him that shot?  What about when he punched the shrink?  And then at home with his wife and baby?  I shy away from that one.

I think about Karen.  She means well; she's being altruistic.  I could marvel at her fierce loyalty.  But she is so damn headstrong.  Did she think about the possible consequences of her actions?  Not likely.  She just barreled right in.  She's being selfless on one hand with John but incredibly selfish on the other hand to the people left behind who are worried sick.

About an hour later my cell goes off.  The huge relief at hearing her voice soon quickly evaporates into a fit of pique.  Karen and I argue.  She won't tell me where they are or let me come get her.  Then she hangs up on me.  That makes my blood boil over.

I have to do something.  Striding out of the room I almost directly collide with Carol.

"Have you heard from her?"

"Just now."

"Where is she?  Are they okay?"

"She wouldn't tell me.  For the moment, she appears fine.  He's out like a light.  Carol, I have to ask Zack for a favor.  I want him to put a trace on her car."

"Of course, Jeffrey.  I'm sure he'd be willing to do it."

"But I want to keep it private with as few outsiders as possible involved."

That's how it was handled.  It took all night.  A very long and tense night.  I was on edge, fretful and wondering why I hadn't heard back from her again.

Jessie kept loading me up with coffee but I didn't need the extra jolt of caffeine to keep me awake and alert.  Chili, Paul and Jeff were generous enough to keep the pub open as a sort of headquarters for the few regulars who gathered around and showed their support.

At about four o'clock in the morning, Zack came and found me.  "We've got a hit on her license plate.  It's about an hour's drive north west."

Chills resonate down my spine.  As my eyes rise to his, he shook his head, "Sorry, Jeff, her car's empty on the side of a dirt road.  It's by the bluffs.  He places a hand on my shoulder.  "One of my boys found a cell phone on the ground near some bushes.  It looks like someone may have fallen or been in a struggle a few feet from the car by the indentations on the dirt."

I get to my feet at this.

"Jeff, don't go ballistic.  There was no sign of violence or foul play of any kind in the car.  Please keep that in mind.  We'll find them both.  Let's go."

Putting myself in neutral, I let Zack take the lead.  Carol begs to come with us as she's one of Karen's closest friends.  Zack agrees but tells her he's in charge of assessing the situation and she'd better listen to him.  If there is any sign of danger, she's to stay put.

With Zack's lead foot on the gas pedal, it takes us only forty minutes until I can visibly make out the outline of her car in the distance.  He has sent his men who were working on this off to covertly keep an eye on things.

Just as we pull up behind it, all of us see two figures emerge from the trail that leads down to the waterfront.

I closed my eyes feeling a glut of sensations course through me after I've scanned her from afar for any signs of damage.

Carol's already got her door open.

"Wait, Carol!"  Zack's firm tone restrains her.  

"Why?  They look exhausted.  They need us."

Zack though is the consummate professional as he keenly appraises not only the area in front of him but all the surrounding environment.  I guess he wants to ensure that no other shady characters have been brought into this.  Once given the all clear, Carol bounces out and runs over to them both.

I see Karen return her hearty embrace and then Carol gives John too a warm hug.

"What are you waiting for, Jeff?" Zack asks as I haven't moved yet.

The initial wave of utter relief and gratitude at finding her free from harm has subsided to a degree and now seeing her in front of me unscathed and unruffled and probably unrepentant leaves me feeling oddly torn between rejoicing and out-and-out exasperation.

I try to clamp down on these negative emotions ashamed and guilty for having them.

Zack seems to read my mind.  "I know I'd go ape shit if Carol pulled the same stunt.  You just have to remember she thought she was doing what was best."

I give a snort acknowledging my provocation.  "I'm seriously contemplating whether I should just hold on to her tight and never let her go or put her across my knee for scaring the fuck out of everybody."

Zack emits a laugh like he understands my dilemma.  "I think you should really go with the former option.  I think she needs it more."

"That's extremely debatable right now, Grant.  However, I'll heed your advice."  I get out of the car.

As Karen sees me walk towards her, I see her smile tentatively at Carol and then she takes John's hand and pats it before releasing.  Carol puts an arm around Nash's shoulder and leads him back to Zack's car.

Meeting them halfway Zack says, "John.  Good to see you back.  We'll take you to the pub in our car.  Kathy's waiting there for you."  

John and I eyeball each other.  He looks away first.

He is the reason behind all of this turmoil.  How do I know if he's hurt her in some less obvious way than the physical?  I try to swallow down my hostility.  Telling myself he's a sick man doesn't seem to simmer it down much.  I manage to finally rein it in enough to walk by him and refrain from starting anything.

The three of them are soon on their way.

She looks so small and fragile with dark circles peeping up from under her eyes.  In her sweatpants and windbreaker, she looks all of twenty.  She's been put through the emotional wringer. 

I see the minute squaring of her shoulders as she prepares herself to be read the riot act which she will get at some point but suddenly that's not a tenth as important as letting her know how much I love her.

I go to her without words and fold her in my arms.

She gives a little cry and burrows into my chest, abandoning her need to be strong.  

We hold on just savoring the intimacy and sharing the heartfelt emotion.  I separate us only to cup her face in my hands to kiss her.  Tears well up in her eyes.  Pulling off my overcoat, I drape it around her.

I have the feeling that if I ask any questions beyond the superficial, she'll completely fall apart so instead I ask if she's hungry.  Has she eaten anything?  She shakes her head.

"I'll have something when we get home."

Taking her hand I start leading us to her car but she holds back.

"Jeffrey, I know we need to talk this out.  Why don't we go for a short walk?  The sun is out and it's nice by the lake."

"Karen, you're tired.  I'm in no hurry for explanations.  You're safe and sound and that's all that I care about.  This can wait until later."

"No, it can't," she sadly smiles and tugs at my hand.

I follow her down a different path from where they came up.  We take our time tramping along the stone-cobbled shore.

She seems to be struggling for words.

"I'm sorry for worrying you.  I wish with all my heart I hadn't had to do that to you.  If there was any other way...."  She stops and then dives in full force.  "I couldn't let him go through this alone.  You wouldn't believe the torture he's gone through, what his delusions put him through."

"I owed it to him, Jeffrey.  When I was with him, I was so afraid that something like this would happen and that I would freeze up and not be there for him.  John knew that too.  Can you imagine how that made him feel inside, how lonely?"

Her heart is so big and full.  How can I fault her for that?

I'm careful with my reply.  "I know why you felt driven as you did.  John was and is still very dear to you."

She nods at me to continue.

"But you say I walk away from confrontation so I'm not going to do that this time," I lightly begin.  She opened it up so I'm going to finish it.

"Okay," Karen simply concurs.  "I know I have disappointed you."

"You never disappoint me."  I turn her to face me.  "You only wanted to alleviate John's pain.  Yet you plunged in before safeguarding yourself and taking precautions.  John was hallucinating.  You're not a doctor, Karen.  You didn't know what he would do."

She starts to protest.  "I was scared people would over-react and take him to a hospital.  He sees white lab coats and he has a fit."

"A hospital did not have to be his end destination.  I know I didn't help by suggesting you get him to one.  I'm aware of the risk of having him associate with others outside of us.  But there were people at the pub who could have talked him down just as easily as you, people with medical training or a psychological background.  There's Stephen.  There's Bou."

"They don't know him like I do," she steadfastly reaffirms.

"What about his girlfriend?"

Picking up a stone, she lets it fly skipping out over the water.  "Kathy is sweet and kind.  Sometimes that's not what's needed in a crisis.  John would have been destroyed by her seeing him in such a deplorable state."

I decide to let that aspect go.

"You didn't leave word with anyone where you were going or give any indication when you would be back.  When I tried to talk to you, you just locked me out.  Then you hung up on me.  I might have expected that behavior from my nine year old but not you.  Don't ever do that again Karen," I say emphatically.

She reddens.  "If I had told you where we were, you would have walked into the middle of a landmine zone Jeffrey.  I mean it.  The situation was complicated enough."

"You say that so dramatically that it makes me wonder what you're hiding.  But you're not going to tell me here what really happened, are you?"  I saw that one coming right from the get-go.

"I can't."  She silently entreats me with her eyes not to press.  "It's not my story to tell."

She takes my hand and holds it close to her cheek.  "I don't want to fight with you or argue.  I don't believe I was wrong.  In the exact same circumstances, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.  The only thing I would change is upsetting and alarming you."

So there she stands beautiful, willful as all hell and defiant.

What can I do?  We can go round in circles both clinging to our opinions, or I can choose to let this go. Maybe it's best that I never know what transpired between her and John.

As I'm driving us home, the weariness catches up to her and lying with her head on my shoulder, she falls asleep.

I think about her formidable faithfulness to friends in need, her staunch belief in doing right by others, her tenacity and strength in doing what she deems necessary and her willingness to make sacrifices and take risks even though she may inadvertently hurt someone else she cares about.  All of these characteristics are the reason why I'm with her in the first place and make me feel incredibly honored and fortunate to have her in my life.  Isn't that the most important thing here to remember?

I take her home and simply show my gratitude and demonstrate my love.