A PERFECT RENDEZVOUS

An Expensive Taste

Dr. Delorik walked out of Harry's bedroom carrying his black bag and smiled reassuringly at Harry's worried family and Katherine who were gathered in the living room, waiting for his prognosis. "He's a sturdy thing. He'll be fine physically in twenty-four hours," he promised. "You can go in and tell him good night if you like. He's sedated so he won't know it's actually morning, not night, and he may not respond or even remember you were here, but it may help him rest easier anyway. It'll be a couple of days before he feels like going back to work."

"I'll call his principal and explain," Mrs. Mathison said quickly, standing up, her anxious gaze on the open door to Harry's room.

"You won't have to explain much to him or anyone else," Dr. Delorik said flatly. "In case you haven't had a television set on yet, you may as well know that what happened in Mexico last night is all over every news program on the air this morning, complete with videotapes of the whole thing provided by vacationers who had minicams with them in the airport. The good news is that, despite the beating Malik got from the Mexican police on those videotapes, the press is making Harry sound like a hero who collaborated in a clever scheme to trap a murderer."

Six faces looked at him without a trace of pleasure in his "good news," so he continued as he shrugged into his coat, "Someone should stay with him for the next twenty-four hours—just to keep an eye on him and to be sure someone is here when he wakes up."

"We'll stay," James Mathison said, putting his arm around his wife.

"You'll both go home and get some sleep if you want some free medical advice," Dr. Delorik said firmly. "You look exhausted. Mary, I don't want to have to admit you to the hospital with your heart kicking up over all this stress."

"He's right," Ted said with absolute finality. "You two go home and get some rest. Carl, you and Sara go to work and come by tonight if you want to. I'm off for the next two days anyway, so I'll stay here."

"No way!" Carl argued. "You haven't slept since the day before yesterday, and besides, you sleep like the dead. If you're sleeping, you won't hear Harry if he needs you."

Ted opened his mouth to try to dispute that, then came up with a better solution. "Katherine," he said, turning to her, "will you stay here with me? Otherwise, Carl and Sara will lose a half day of work arguing with me. Or do you have something else you have to do?"

"I want to stay," Katherine said simply.

"That's settled then," Reverend Mathison said, and the family proceeded down the hall to Harry's bedroom, while Katherine went into the kitchen to make Ted a light breakfast.

"Harry, honey, it's me, Dad. Mother's here with me."

In his drugged dream, Harry felt something touch his forehead, and his father's voice whispering from very, very far away, "We love you. Everything's going to be just fine. Sleep tight." Then his mother's voice was there, tearful and soft. "You're so brave, darling. You've always been so brave. Sleep well." Something bristly brushed his cheek and made him wince and turn his head away, and Carl's gruff laugh touched his ear. "That's no way to treat your favorite brother, just because I haven't shaved yet... Love you, honey." Then there was Ted telling him in his teasing voice, "Carl's full of it! I'm your favorite brother. Katherine and I are right here. If you wake up, just call us, and we'll wait on you hand and foot." Sara's gentle voice whispered, "I love you, too, Harry. Sleep well."

And then the voices receded, sinking into the darkness to mingle with all the other strange sounds and disturbing images of people running and shouting and shoving, guns and swirling lights and icy eyes like golden daggers stabbing him, and airplane engines roaring and roaring and roaring.