I nod.

"Get your license or something?"

"No."

"Well-guess it doesn't really matter. Not around here."

The car is still in neutral.

"Where you going?"

"I was heading to work."

"On a Sunday? That's the day of rest, right? You never work on Sundays."

"I need to see Iris."

"Why?"

I haven't told him about his father working there.

"What is it, Chris?"

"Your father. He used to work at the Crag's Inn. Just like I do."

Jared waits for more information.

"He just disappeared on her."

"And she knows nothing more?"

"That's all she told me," I say. "I have a feeling she knows a lot more. About Solitary. About me."

"Drive then."

I still remain parked on the side of the road.

"What is it?"

"I'm not supposed to bring anybody there."

"Why? Because we'll invade the woman's privacy or something?"

"No, it's just-it's one of her rules. And I don't want to do anything against her."

"She's an old lady who's as nutty as Aunt Alice. She's just more refined. That's all. Same craziness in a different brand."

"I promised."

"What? You want me to get my car and follow you?"

"She can't see that I brought you there."

"It's not like the Crag's Inn is some secret. Everybody knows where it is."

"I don't know."

"Chris-listen. You're not the only one who wants answers. I have a right to know."

I feel the heat finally start working in the car. I stare out the clearing windshield and shake my head. "Just stay in the car until I tell her you're there," I finally say.

"No problem."

97. The Sign When we make the corner to turn onto the road that winds back and forth up the steep mountain toward Iris and her mountain inn, I can almost feel the change that we drive through. Like a car wash in the middle of the North Pole. The temperature drops, and the car seems to slow down.

Then the birds start to attack.

I'm shivering as I hold the steering wheel and begin the ascent when a blanket of squirming, scratching beasts seem to cover our car. It's not like a few suddenly peck away at the window. It's more like a battalion of soldiers all attacking at the same time.

Jared curses and ducks as I pound on the brake and jerk the car to a halt.

"Keep going, man, keep going."

Jagged itching frantic obsessed crazed birds. That's what they are.

The bluebird has sent its troops down.

I can't tell what kind of birds because there are too many. Big and small and all of them one massive cluster of madness.

Jared rips at my sleeve and forces me to look at him. "Go. Get up that mountain. Now."

I get the car moving, and for a while I'm driving in blindness. It takes me a while to find the windshield wipers, and they don't do much good. Jared tries to open his window to get them away, but then he howls and shuts the window and holds his hand.

For a second the noise is unbearable and the frenetic motion is crazy.

Get out of here back up and back away.

"Keep driving, Chris!"

I jerk to a halt again, then accelerate, then shift a couple of times to try and get the birds off.

A sliver in the throbbing black mess on the windshield shows the road curving to the right, so I turn and keep going.

And then, like a blurry dream, the birds are gone. Again I stop the car and listen to my breathing.

"Keep going, Chris."

"What was that?"

He curses and says he has no idea but this isn't the place to stop.

I'm still cold and I suddenly feel scared.

You shouldn't be here. Not like this. Not with him.

"You need me to drive?" he asks.

"No."

A small shape flickers in the air above us. Then it suddenly bolts away like all the other birds did.

Whatever kind of sign that was, I know that it wasn't a good one.

98. The Same Guy When I get to the top I tell Jared to wait in the car. He seems less anxious now. For a moment he just stares out at the inn.

"I'll tell her that you're here and ask if she wants to see you."

"Wonderful."

I climb out of the car and go to the door. After a few knocks, I let myself in. Iris has always said to make myself feel at home, to come whenever I'd like, never to feel like I'm bothering her.

But today's a Sunday. And I brought someone with me.

It's quiet inside, almost too quiet. I call out for Iris. Sometimes when I do this, I hear her voice answering from a room upstairs or down the hall. Today I don't hear anything. No voice, no movement, nothing.

I enter the kitchen. No coffee or tea made. No breakfast out. No dishes in the sink.

I wonder if there are any guests in the inn.

Again I call out her name. Nothing.

There's a reason for this.

The birds, Jared coming with me, the spooky fog outside ...

Something's wrong.

But something's been wrong ever since I set foot in Solitary. Iris knows the town and knows my place in it. She knows about Uncle Robert, and it's time to get some answers. Some legitimate, real, eye-opening answers.

As I head out of the kitchen through the dining room, I hear a door open.

"Iris?"

I go into the room and see him. A face and a smile I know but suddenly don't recognize. Every inch of me goes cold.

"No."

That's all Jared says. But it's the way he looks, the way he says it.

And suddenly I know. Just like that.

Just.

Like.

That.

"Let's wait for her in here," Jared says.

"I told you to wait in the car."

"She won't mind. I'm sure she won't."

I take a few steps and then stand near the wall between the dining room and the front door. Jared is by the couch, about ten feet away from me. I can smell something different, something strong.

He's holding something white. A cloth or an old handkerchief, the kind that guys used to have in the old-time movies. He uses his index fingers and thumbs to delicately turn the white thing.

"Why don't you sit, Chris?"

"You shouldn't be in here."

His eyes maul mine, then he looks around, then looks back at me. Again he smiles.

You're so stupid, Chris. Stupid.

"Do you recognize this?"

I look at him and then at the cloth.

"Jared-what-"

"Tell me. Do you recognize it?"

"No."

"It belonged to my father. It was his handkerchief. He taught me how to use it too." He pauses, looking like he's about ready to deliver a punch line.

I glance at the door.

"Uh-uh. We have to wait."

"Jared. What are you doing?"

"My father taught me to be careful about the dosage. With a strong enough dose you can knock out anybody."

I can get to the door I can make it there before he can grab me.

Jared moves a little closer to the door, reading my hand. Then he holds up the handkerchief. "You really should remember this, Chris. And so should your mom." He laughs.