Steve glanced at her quickly, the fear in his eyes leveled up yet another notch. He saw that Faye meant it, said nothing – just turned his head, stared forward, and eased off the gas pedal.
Faye moved to the back of the ambulance again, leaned down near where Henry still lay prone. He shifted to sit up when she approached, wanting to at least lean his back against the side of the vehicle.
“Try not to crush too many lifesaving devices in here OK?” she said, and smiled at him.
Henry just growled low in his throat as he tried to position himself into a sitting position. He attempted a smile, but again, it came off weirdly, since he still hadn’t mastered the dimensions and workings of his new face. Once he’d established himself as comfortably as possible, given the cramped interior, he mumbled, “Sorry,” and cast his eyes down.
“No need to be sorry, Henry. None of this is your fault.”
Now that she could see him in fairly strong light, things she originally mistook as menacing in the half-shaded areas of the hospital basement she now saw as beautiful. If you didn’t know him, you’d be terrified, of course (as poor Steve clearly was), but she knew Henry. She felt she somehow knew him better than people in her life she’d known for fifteen or twenty years.
“You’re at Harriston and Blumfield, right?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, the apartment building right on the corner there. Go around back. As soon as we arrive, shut the engine down. Keep us as dark as possible.”
“Got it.”
Faye reached out a hand, brushed it softly against Henry’s cheek. He flinched away instinctively, but only a little. He kept his eyes cast down but let her touch him. Her hand moved lower, fingers curling gently under his chin, cupping it. He flicked his eyes up at her quickly, ready to see a look of revulsion on her face, but she only smiled, her head titled on an angle.
“I’m glad you’re here, Henry.”
He nodded, but said nothing in return.
Milo watched nearby, touched by the scene, wishing he could reach out to Henry, as well, let his friend know he was there with him. He knew it was impossible now – and likely would be forever – but he’d never wanted to be there for Henry more than he did right this instant. He knew Henry was flagging. Everything he was going through was taxing him emotionally to the point of despair. Even through his new facial features, and the new mannerisms his body was being forced to adapt, he could still see his old friend Henry in there, struggling to keep it together. Struggling to make sense of everything. Be present. Faye was doing her best, but Milo knew if he could somehow make Henry see him, give him the knowledge that he was there, too, it might be enough to get him through.
Milo felt a sudden rush of love for his friend so strong that he didn’t know where to put the emotion. It coursed through him like a rushing river. He closed his eyes, and just waited for it to pass. I’m here, Henry, he thought again, for the thousandth time. Faye is here, but I’m here, too. I wish you knew. I wish I could make you know that.
* * *
They drove around back of Faye’s apartment building, parked in a spot as close to the doors as possible. Steve cut the engine.
It was maybe thirty feet to the doors, but the sun was nearly fully up now. A few people trickled out of the building, on their way to early-start jobs, walking dogs, etc. Faye’s initial plan had been to try to sit unnoticed for the day, then hustle Henry inside once darkness fell. She saw now how ridiculous that was. Steve would be missed at work, as would the ambulance.
Steve turned around in the driver’s seat, said, “So what’s the plan now? Use the blanket again to shuffle him inside, hope no one notices? ’Cause if so, I suggest you rethink that. No way – now that a lot of people are up and about – are you going to pull that off. No way.”
Faye just sat and stared ahead, past Steve, out the front window. What the hell am I going to do?
Then it hit her:
“Fire alarm,” she said dreamily. “That’ll work, right? I’ll go in, pull the fire alarm. Everyone rushes out and, in the confusion, I bring Henry in.”
She looked to Steve, saw doubt in his eyes. “Risky,” he said. “Super risky, but I’m not sure what other choice you have. Since I need to get back, like –” he glanced at his watch “– now.”
“Fire house is pretty close,” Faye mumbled. “We’d need to be quick. Get him in there before they arrive.”
“Correction: you’d need to be quick,” Steve said. “I’ll be gone.”
“And you’re not going to say anything to anyone about this, right, Steve?” Faye said, snapping out of her dreamy voice, all threat again. “Right?”