Thinner

'We'll pay for the tests too,' one of them said finally, in a this-is-our-final-offer tone.

'I'm leaving,' Billy said. He spoke very quietly, but he saw that they finally believed him. Perhaps it was the very quietness of his tone that had finally convinced them that it was not a matter of money, that he was authentically mad.

'But why? Why, Mr Halleck?'

'Because,' Billy said, 'although you think you can help me … ah … gentlemen, you can't.'

And looking at their unbelieving, uncomprehending faces, Billy thought he had never felt so lonely in his life.

On his way home he stopped at a smoke shop and bought a package of Chesterfield Kings. The first three puffs made him feel so dizzy and sick that he threw them away.

'So much for that experiment,' he said aloud in the car, laughing and crying at the same time. 'Back to the old drawing board, kids.'

Chapter 14. Linda was gone.

Heidi, the normally tiny lines beside her eyes and the corners of her mouth now deep with strain (she was smoking like a steam engine, Billy saw – one Vantage 100 after another), told Halleck she had sent Linda to her Aunt Rhoda's in Westchester County.

'I did it for a couple of reasons,' Heidi said. 'The first is that … that she needs a rest from you, Billy. From what's happening to you. She's half out of her mind. It's gotten so I can't convince her you don't have cancer.'

'She ought to talk to Cary Rossington,' Billy muttered as he went into the kitchen to turn on the coffee. He needed a cup badly – strong and black, no sugar. 'They sound like soulmates.'

'What? I can't hear you.'

'Never mind. Just let me turn on the coffee.'

'She's not sleeping,' Heidi said when he came back. She was twisting her hands together restlessly. 'Do you understand?'

'Yes,' Billy said, and he did … but it felt as if there was a thorn lodged somewhere inside of him. He wondered if Heidi understood that he needed Linda too, if she really understood that his daughter was also part of his support system. But part of his support system or not, he had no right to erode Linda's confidence, her psychological equilibrium. Heidi was right about that. She was right about that no matter how much it cost.

He felt that bright hate surface in his heart again. Mommy had driven his daughter off to auntie's house as soon as Billy had called and said he was on his way. And how come? Why, because the bogey-daddy was coming home! Don't run screaming, dear, it's only the Thin Man …

Why that day? Why did you have to pick that day?

'Billy? Are you all right?' Heidi's voice was oddly hesitant.

Jesus! You stupid bitch! Here you are married to the Incredible Shrinking Man, and all you can think to ask is if I'm all right?

'I'm as all right as I can be, I guess. Why?'

'Because you looked … strange for a minute.'

Did I? Did I really? Why that day, Heidi? Why did you pick that day to reach into my pants after all the prim years of doing everything in the dark?

'Well, I suppose I feel a little strange almost all the time now,' Billy said, thinking: You've got to stop it, my friend. This is pointless. What's done is done.

But it was hard to stop it. Hard to stop it when she stood there smoking one cigarette after another but looking and seeming perfectly well, and …

But you will stop it, Billy. So help me.

Heidi turned away and stubbed her cigarette out in a crystal ashtray.

'The second thing is … you've been keeping something from me, Billy. Something to do with this. You talk in your sleep, sometimes. You've been out nights. Now, I want to know. I deserve to know.' She was begi

'You want to know?' Halleck asked. 'You really want to know?' he felt a strange dry grin surface on his face.

'Yes! Yes!'

So Billy told her.

Houston called him the following day, and after a long and meaningless prologue, he got to the point. Heidi was with him. He and Heidi had had a long chat (did you offer her a toot for the human snoot? Halleck thought of asking, and decided that maybe he had better not). The upshot of their long chat was simply this: they thought Billy was just as crazy as a loon.

'Mike,' Billy said, 'the old Gypsy was real. He touched all three of us: me, Cary Rossington, Duncan Hopley. Now, a guy like you doesn't believe in the supernatural I accept that. But you sure as shit believe in deductive and inductive reasoning. So you've got to see the possibilities. All three of us were touched by him, all three of us have mysterious physical ailments, Now, for Christ's sake, before you decide I've gone crazy, at least consider the logical link.'

'Billy, there is no link.'

'I just -,

'I've talked to Leda Rossington. She says Cary is in the Mayo being treated for skin cancer. She says it's gone pretty far, but they're reasonably sure he's going to be okay. She further says she hasn't seen you since the Gordons' Christmas party.'

'She's lying!'

Silence from Houston . . . and was that the sound of Heidi crying in the background? Billy's hand tightened on the telephone until the knuckles grew white.

'Did you talk to her in person, or just on the phone?'

'On the phone. Not that I understand the difference that makes.'

'If you saw her, you'd know. She looks like a woman who's had most of the life shocked right out of her.'

'Well, when you find out your husband has skin cancer, and it's reached the serious stage

'Have you talked to Cary?'

'He's in intensive care. People in intensive care are allowed telephone calls only under the most extreme circumstances.'

'I am down to a hundred and seventy,' Billy said. 'That's a net loss of eighty-three pounds, and I call that pretty extreme.'

Silence from the other end. Except for that sound that might be Heidi crying.

'Will you talk to him? Will you try?'

'If his doctors allow him to take a call, and if he'll talk to me, yes. But, Billy this hallucination of yours-'

IT IS NO FUCKING HALLUCINATION!' Don't shout, God, don't do that.

Billy closed his eyes.

'All right, all right,' Houston soothed. 'This idea. Is that a better word? All I wanted to say is that this idea is not going to help you get better. In fact, it may be the root cause of this psycho-anorexia, if that's really what you're suffering from, as Dr Yount believes. You -'

'Hopley,' Billy said. Sweat had broken out on his face. He mopped his brow with his handkerchief. He had a flicker-flash of Hopley, that face that really wasn't a face anymore but a relief map of hell. Crazy inflammations, trickling wetness, and the sound, the unspeakable sound when he raked his nails down his cheek.

There was a long silence from Houston's end.

'Talk to Duncan Hopley. He'll confirm -'

'I can't, Billy. Duncan Hopley committed suicide two days ago. He did it while you were in the Glassman Clinic. Shot himself with his service pistol.'

Halleck closed his eyes tightly and swayed on his feet. He felt as he had when he tried to smoke. He pinched his cheek savagely to keep from fainting dead away.

'Then you know,' he said with his eyes still closed. 'You know, or someone knows – someone saw him.'

'Grand Lawlor saw him,' Houston said. 'I called him just a few minutes ago.'

Grand Lawlor. For a moment Billy's confused, frightened mind didn't understand – he believed that Houston had uttered a garbled version of the phrase grand jury. Then it clicked home. Grand Lawlor was the county coroner. And now that he thought of it, yes, Grand Lawlor had testified before a grand jury or two in his time.

This thought brought on an irrational giggling fit. Billy pressed his palm over the phone's mouth piece and hoped Houston wouldn't hear the giggles; if he did, Houston would think he was crazy for sure.