Quotes by Stephen M. Irwin

I need to ask, are you afraid of spiders?Nicholas blinked, suddenly caught off guard, Yes, Im afraid of spiders.Were you always?What are you, a psychiatrist?Pritam took a breath. He could feel Laines eyes on him, appraising his line of questioning.Is it possible that the trauma of losing your best friend as a child and the trauma of losing your wife as an adult and the trauma of seeing Laines husband take his life in front of you just recently... Pritam shrugged and raised his palms, You see where Im going?Nicholas looked at Laine. She watched back. Her gray eyes missed nothing.Sure, agreed Nicholas, standing. And my sisters nuts, too, and we both like imagining that little white dogs are big nasty spiders because our daddy died and we never got enough cuddles.Your father died? asked Laine. When?Who cares?Pritam sighed. You must see this from our point of - Id love to! snapped Nicholas. Id love to see it from your point of view, because mine is not that much fun! Its insane! Its insane that I see dead people, Pritam! Its insane that this, he flicked out the sardonyx necklace,stopped me from kidnapping a little girl!Thats what you believe, Pritam said carefully.Thats what I fucking believe! Nicholas stabbed his finger through the air at the dead bird talisman lying slack on the coffee table.

Hannah expected this to make her sob even more, but instead she found her tears drying up and her tummy growing warm. How dare they? How dare they do this to little girls? She understood now why her parents go so angry when they saw the result of bombers in the white hot streets of the Middle East, why men and women wailed in anger as well as grief as they lifted the limp bodies of children from the rubble. How dare they? No, she wasnt going to die like this, wrapped up like some helpless baby.

But a smell shivered him awake.It was a scent as old as the world. It was a hundred aromas of a thousand places. It was the tang of pine needles. It was the musk of sex. It was the muscular rot of mushrooms. It was the spice of oak. Meaty and redolent of soil and bark and herb. It was bats and husks and burrows and moss. It was solid and alive - so alive! And it was close.The vapors invaded Nicholas nostrils and his hair rose to their roots. His eyes were as heavy as manhole covers, but he opened them. Through the dying calm inside him snaked a tremble of fear.The trees themselves seemed tense, waiting. The moonlight was a hard shell, sharp and ready to ready be struck and to ring like steel.A shadow moved.It poured like oil from between the tall trees and flowed across dark sandy dirt, lengthening into the middle of the ring. Trees seem to bend toward it, spellbound. A long, long shadow...

Christ can forgive you, he whispered, though he didnt believe it. There wasnt a hint of compassion in those ice-blue eyes.Thats grand, she said.Her features became again those of the pleasant brown-haired nurse. She smiled, pulled the pillow from under his head, and covered his face.

Tears sprang from her eyes and she bit her lip to stop herself from howling at the bright pain.

A month ago, Gavin had given his employer four weeks notice. Ill get a job around here, hed told her. Something low-stress, part-time, maybe. Were not paying rent, and Dads left us plenty. You should quit, too. A year earlier this news would have filled her with delicious, full fat, chocolate-coated joy. But now, after a grueling routine of shitty work, shitty- weird home life in a house where the shadow of a dead boy walked more solidly than the grownups, shitty headaches, shitty worry about a husband who couldnt keep his dick out of other women, the golden offer just weirded Laine out. She didnt trust it.

She put her tongue out and felt the raw edges of the torn silk. She looped her tongue around them and drew them into her teeth. Just a little bit, she thought, thats all I need to free my eyelids. She pulled the tasteless web between her teeth and ground, pulling her jaw down in a grimace - it felt as it she was eating the very skin off her face. But the silk over her eyelids shifted.

And the kids?Quincy, nothing. All she wants to do is look for Saturns rings and bring home every creature from the pound. Nelson, though, hes... She looked at Nicholas. Hes like you. Gifted, but ignorant.Nicholas bristled, Im not ignorant.You are about magic.Thats because I dont believe in magic.Nicholas, She stopped, hands on hips, waiting until he turned around. Youre haunted. You see the dead. How can you not believe in magic?

Laine slowly rolled out of bed. The queen size was one of the few new things in the house. But now, even the new bed felt tainted. It was an inner-spring monument to lies, a petri dish of mendacity she had shared with her faithless husband, and shared now with creeping dreams that flew from the light but left harsh scratches and diseased black feathers. Laine promised herself that, as soon as, she could, she would rid herself of this house, this bed, her clothes, her jewelry - everything but the flesh she lived in. She would scrub herself clean and flee to start a new life whose first and only commandment would be: Never let thyself be lied to again.

Laine taped the last box shut. That was it, then: All of Gavins belongings put away; some for charity, some for the dump, some to be saved for a happier one day that Laine felt, right now, was as distant as the stars.

Laine had been very proud of herself last night. Nicholas had talked about ghosts and magic and woven a bit of a spell himself. Hed sounded so convincing, so logical, so sad, that shed found herself wanting to believe him. But testing prods at his argument had made him angry, and long years with Gavin had taught her that angry, defensive people shared the lousy habit of being wrong.

His hatred for her was now as solid as the boards he lay on, as the stones ringing the firepit.

After Nicholas hung up the phone, he watched his mother carry buckets and garden tools across the couch grass toward a bed that would, come spring, be brightly ablaze as tropical coral with colorful arctotis, impatiens, and petunias. Katherine dug with hard chopping strokes, pulling out wandering jew and oxalis, tossing the uprooted weeds into a black pot beside her.The garden will be beautiful, he thought. But how do the weeds feel about it? Sacrifices must be made.

The rain thundered down so heavily that Pritam could imagine that space itself was made of water and was pouring through rents in the skys tired fabric.