Regina’s Song. David Eddings

seems to be settling in, boss. It took her a few days to get used to your sister’s work schedule, but she seems pretty much OK now.”

      “I still think we’re rushing into this.” Then he sighed. “Did you find a place to live?”

      “Yeah. It’s only a few blocks from Mary’s house, so if Twink starts coming unglued, I can be there in a flat minute.”

      “I appreciate that, Mark. Inga and I worry a lot about Renata, but you’re the one she seems to turn to.”

      I shrugged. “Listen, I think I’ve come up with something that might ease her into things at U.W. It might not be a bad idea if the first class Twink audits is mine. That’ll put a familiar face at the front of the room on her first time out, so she won’t get wound up quite so tight. After she gets her feet wet, she’ll be able to move on, but let’s not throw her into deep water right from the git-go.”

      “That might be the best idea I’ve heard all day, Mark. Just knowing that you’ll be around if she needs you is taking a lot of the pressure off me.”

      “That’s what friends are for, boss.” I stood up. “I’ll stay in touch. If Twink starts having any serious problems, I’ll pass the word, and we can jerk her out of Seattle and bring her home again. Meanwhile, I’m going to talk with Dr. Fallon and find out exactly what I should be watching for. I’m sure there’ll be a few warning signals, and I ought to hear what they’re likely to be.”

      “You’re taking a lot of time and trouble with this, Mark.”

      “It’s that big-brother thing, boss. Oh, I almost forgot—Twink wants me to pick up her ten-speed and a box of tapes and CDs she left behind. If it’s OK, I’ll swing by your place this evening to pick them up.” Then I remembered something. “Would it be OK if I tapped the mill scrap heap a few times?” I asked him.

      “Are you building a house?” He looked amused.

      “I’ve already got a house, boss. It’s in the wrong town, but it’s mine. No, the place where I’ll be staying needs a few modifications—bookshelves, mostly. If I can rummage through the junk lumber in the scrap heap, I might save the landladies a few bucks.”

      “Help yourself,” he said.

      “Thanks, boss. I’d better bag on up to Lake Stevens and have that talk with Fallon.”

      But the doctor was a little vague when I asked him about warning signals. He made a fairly big issue of “compulsive behavior.”

      “Define ‘compulsive,’ Doc,” I suggested.

      “Anything she takes to extremes—washing her hands every five minutes, ignoring her appearance, radical changes in her eating habits. You know her well enough to spot anything unusual. If something seems abnormal to you, give me a call. You might want to have her aunt keep an eye on her as well.”

      “If you were going to bet on her recovery, what would you say the odds are, Doc?” I asked bluntly.

      “Right now I’d say fifty-fifty. This first term at the university is crucial. If we can get her past this one, the odds should get better.”

      “We’re still in the ifsy-andsy stage, then?”

      “That comes close, I’d say.”

      “If she goes bonkers again, she’ll have to come back here, won’t she?”

      He winced at my use of the word “bonkers,” but he didn’t make an issue of it. “She’ll probably have to come back here a few times anyway, Mark. Recovering from a mental illness is a long, slow process, and there are almost always setbacks. That’s why those Friday sessions are so important. I’ll need to reevaluate her on a weekly basis just to stay on the safe side.”

      “You’re a gloomy sort of guy, Doc, did you know that?”

      “I’m in a gloomy profession. Just watch Renata very closely for the first few weeks and report any peculiar behavior to me.”

      “I’ll do what I can,” I promised.

      I drove back to Everett, where I stopped by the Greenleaf house for Twinkie’s bike and music. The trunk of my car was fairly full of all the usual junk that winds up in car trunks, so I lashed her bike to the roof of my Dodge and drove back to Seattle. I hauled into a motel, rolled Twinkie’s bike into the room, and crashed. I’d put in a couple of busy days, and I was pooped.

      Mary was still asleep when I went by the next morning, but Twink was up and moving. “You actually remembered,” she said when I carried her box into the kitchen. “Did you bring my bike, too?”

      “Naturally. It’s tied to the top of my car. Where do you want it?”

      “Put it on the back porch for now.”

      “You’ve got quite a collection here,” I said, tapping the box.

      “I can’t remember much of it,” she admitted. “After I went home from the nuthouse, I spent a lot of time listening, but none of it stirred up any memories. What were you doing up in Everett?”

      “I had to pick up a few things and arrange to have the furniture put into storage. I’m not going to be living there, so I’m going to rent the place out.”

      “Nothing ever stays the same, does it, Markie?” she said sadly.

      “In theory, it’s supposed to be getting better, Twink.”

      “Oh, sure.”

      “Cheer up, baby sister. In my infinite wisdom, I’ve decided to let you sit in during a class conducted by Super Teacher.”

      “Super Teacher?”

      “Me. I’ll teach your socks off, kid. I’m so good that sometimes I can barely stand myself.”

      “Be serious, Markie.”

      “I am. I teach a section of English 131, and Dr. Fallon wants us to ease you into things here—familiar faces and all that stuff. It seems to me that the two things sort of click together. You get exposed to the world of education by somebody you know, and I get to keep an eye on you at the same time I show you how unspeakably brilliant I am. Isn’t that neat?”

      “You just want to show off.”

      I shrugged. “If you got it, flaunt it, kid. What time does Mary usually get up?”

      “About two—or so. She doesn’t get off work until seven.”

      “Are you going to be all right, Twink?” I asked her. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff I should take care of.”

      “I’ll be fine, Markie.” She patted the box I’d just delivered. “I’ve got my music now.”

      “Keep the volume down, Twink. If you wake Mary up, she might get grouchy, and she packs heat.”

      “Heat?”

      “She wears a gun. She is a cop, you know.”

      “I’ve got earphones. She won’t hear a thing.”

      “I’ll call you this evening, Twink. Stay out of trouble.”

      “I’ll be good.” she promised.

      I drove over to the boardinghouse to take some measurements for my bookshelves. My room was empty now, and I’d decided to get the carpentry and painting out of the way before I rented a truck to pick up my furniture.

      Trish stood in the doorway watching. “Why do you keep taking the same measurement over and over, Mark?” she asked.

      “It’s one of the rules, Trish—measure three times, because you can only cut once. It’s real hard to un-saw a board.”

      “I can imagine. I definitely think permanent bookshelves in every room is an excellent idea. Students always need places