His hand shook. A little water spilled down the front of the hospital Johnny Sean wore.
"Sorry."
"S'okay," Sean replied in his husky whisper, and drank thirstily.
He almost emptied the glass. Then he burped.
Alan lowered him carefully back down. Sean seemed a little more alert now, but there was still no luster in his eyes. Alan thought he had never seen a little boy who looked so dreadfully alone, and his mind tried once again to call up that final image of Todd.
He pushed it away. There was work to do here. It was distasteful work, and damned ticklish in the bargain, but he felt more and more that it was also desperately important work. Regardless of what might be going on in Castle Rock right now, he felt increasingly sure that at least some of the answers lay here, behind that pale forehead and those sad, lusterless eyes.
He looked around the room and forced a smile. "Boring room," he said.
"Yeah," Sean said in his low, husky voice. "Totally dopey."
"Maybe a few flowers would liven it up," Alan said, and passed his right hand in front of his left forearm, deftly plucking the folding bouquet from its palming well beneath his watchband.
He knew he was pressing his luck but had decided, on the spur of the moment, to go for it anyway. He was almost sorry. Two of the tissue-paper blooms tore as he slipped the loop and popped the bouquet open. He heard the spring give a tired twang. It was undoubtedly the final performance of this version of the Folding Flower Trick, but Alan did get away with it... just. And Sean, unlike his brother, was clearly amused and delighted in spite of his state of mind and the drugs perking through his system.
"Awesome! How'd you do that?"
"Just a little magic... Want them?" He moved to put the spray of tissue-paper flowers in the water pitcher.
"Naw. They're just paper. Also, they're ripped in a few places."
Sean thought about this, apparently decided it sounded ungrateful, and added: "Neat trick, though. Can you make them disappear?"
I doubt it, son, Alan thought. Aloud he said, "I'll try."
He held the bouquet up so Sean could see it clearly, then curved his right hand slightly and drew it downward. He made this pass much more slowly than usual in deference to the sad state of the MacGuffin, and found himself surprised and impressed with the result. Instead of snapping out of sight as they usually did, the Folding Flowers seemed to disappear into his loosely curled fist like smoke. He felt the loosened, overstressed spring try to buckle and jam, but in the end it decided to cooperate one last time.
"That's really radical," Sean said respectfully, and Alan privately agreed. It was a wonderful variation on a trick he'd wowed schoolkids with for years, but he doubted that it could be done with a new version of the Folding Flower Trick. A brand-new spring would make that slow, dreamy pass impossible.
"Thanks," he said, and stowed the folding bouquet under his watchband for the last time. "If you don't want flowers, how about a quarter for the Coke machine?"
Alan leaned forward and casually plucked a quarter from Sean's nose. The boy grinned.
"Whoops, I forgot-it takes seventy-five cents these days, doesn't it? Inflation. Well, no problem." He pulled a coin from Sean's mouth and discovered a third one in his own ear. By then Sean's smile had faded a little and Alan knew that he had better get down to business quickly. He stacked the three quarters on the low dresser beside the bed. "For when you feel better," he said.
"Thanks, mister."
"You're welcome, Sean."
"Where's my daddy?" Sean asked. His voice was marginally stronger now.
The question struck Alan as odd.
He would have expected Sean to ask first for his mother. The boy was, after all, only seven. "He'll be here soon, Sean."
"I hope so. I want him."
"I know you do." Alan paused and said, "Your mommy will be here soon, too." Sean thought about this, then shook his head slowly and deliberately. The pillowcase made little rustling noises as he did it. "No she won't. She's too busy."
"Too busy to come and see you?" Alan asked. "Yes. She's very busy. Mommy's visiting with The King. That's why I can't go in her room anymore. She shuts the door and puts on her sunglasses and visits with The King."
10
Alan saw Mrs. Rusk responding to the State Police who were questioning her. Her voice slow and disconnected. A pair of sunglasses on the table beside her. She couldn't seem to leave them alone; one hand toyed with them almost constantly. She would draw it back, as if afraid someone would notice, and then, after only a few seconds, her hand would return to them agal'n, seemingly on its own.
At the time he had thought she was either suffering from shock or under the influence of a tranquilizer. Now he wondered. He also wondered if he should ask Sean about Brian or pursue this new avenue. Or were they both the same avenue? "You're not really a magician," Sean said. "You're a policeman, aren't you?"
"Uh-huh."