Who Is Brian Quinn?

Madge & Genevieve

She couldn't get the ring off the midget's finger. Not matter how she pulled and twisted it wouldn't budge.

Rain began to mist the windshield. The driver turned to her again. "Where to, miss?"

Madge shook her head again. "I really don't know." Then after a moment. "The river. Take me to the river." Got to get this ring off, she thought. Off this midget finger. Maybe water, a puddle, anything. She wasn't even certain that there was a river in this town, the place was completely foreign to her. Reggie always went to the river, with their son Bailey. They liked to go there, it was a peaceful place, said Reggie. She needed a peaceful place.

"Okay," said the driver and swung the wheel.

He dropped her off near the waterfront. The rain had thickened, her fur coat grew heavy and matted with moisture. She walked to the edge of the cement balustrade that overlooked the river, a dark body of seething blackness reflecting streetlights, stretching indefinitely toward the horizon. Looks more like the ocean, she thought. Not a river, there's no opposite bank. But the water flowed as though it were a river, slowly meandering below in the darkness. The paved promontory stood some twenty feet above. Got to get down to the water, she thought. I've got to get this ring and use it.

Pulling the severed finger from her pocket Madge looked again at the ring sitting on the midget's finger. She gazed at it for a moment then sighed and pulled her sopping wet fur around her shoulders. She began trudging toward an overhang where the walkway passed beneath a bridge. A dry place, she told herself. Maybe I can find a puddle, something wet to loosen the ring. Despair seemed to overwhelm her. The fight with the midget and the strange falling body had left her feeling empty and helpless and her apparent inability to get the ring off the tiny finger was maddening. I should just break the finger in half, force the ring off. The thought repulsed her as soon as she felt the cold stiff piece of flesh in her hand, she squeezed it and shuddered. She wanted to close her eyes, sleep, avoid the world, this world, this strange place in which she seemed trapped, marooned on a sea of madness and terror.

Reaching the overhang she stopped beneath the bridge. Standing in the light cast by a lamp set into the overhang she listened to the sound of dripping water coming from somewhere to her right. Several pools had collected beneath the bridge fed by slow drips from the structure above. Madge approached one of these wide puddles. She stooped down and held the finger in the water, rubbing it and pulling at the ring with her fingernails. No good. It wouldn't budge. She cried sharply and went to her knees frantically twisting the ring, trying to dislodge it from the midget's finger. Still, it would not move. "No," she cried. "Come on, please." Then in despair she dropped the finger. It disappeared beneath the surface of the puddle. She exhaled.

She peered into the murky water, lit from above by streetlamp. She made a face, then inhaled sharply. Oh my gosh. How can that be? There was no reflection. No reflection in the water. Nothing. She moved a hand over the puddle trying to see something, anything. It remained a dark pool of faintly illuminated water, oily on the surface and stagnant. Strange, she thought. I'm losing my mind. There's no escape. I've gone completely over the edge. There's no question now. I'm seeing things. I must be dreaming. Must be. She scooted over to an adjacent puddle. There she was, clear as could be expected from an oily puddle in the city, gazing back at herself from the water.

But this other puddle, she turned back looking confusedly at the surface.

I have to get that ring. She put her fingers back down in the puddle but couldn't find the midget's finger. She scrabbled frantically trying to find the finger, the ring. They were both gone. "No, no," she whimpered. Again she splashed at the puddle, putting her entire hand into the water. Then she froze. Her hands hadn't touched cement, the paving below was gone. Slowly she pushed her hand deeper, up to her elbow, "Oh my gosh," she breathed. "What is going on?"