The Other Side of Midnight

‘I want you to grow to be big and strong,’ she said as she drank her milk. ‘I want you to be healthy … healthy and strong when you die.’ She lay in bed every day plotting her vengeance against Larry and his son. What was in her body was not a part of her. It belonged to him and she was going to kill it. It was the only thing of his that he had left her, and she was going to destroy it just as he had tried to destroy her.

How little Israel Katz had understood her! She was not interested in a formless embryo that knew nothing. She wanted Larry’s spawn to feel what was going to happen to him, to suffer, as she had suffered. The wedding dress was hanging near her bed now, always in sight, a talisman of evil, a reminder of his betrayal. First, Larry’s son, then Larry.

The phone rang often, but Noelle lay in bed, lost in her dreams until it stopped. She was sure that it was Israel Katz trying to reach her.

One evening there was a pounding on the door. Noelle lay in bed, ignoring it, but finally when the pounding continued, she dragged herself up and opened the door.

Israel Katz was standing there, his face filled with concern. ‘My God, Noelle, I’ve been calling you for days.’

He looked at her bulging stomach. ‘I thought you might have had it done somewhere else.’

She shook her head. ‘No. You’re going to do it.’

Israel stared at her. ‘Haven’t you understood anything I told you? It’s too late! No one’s going to do it.’

He saw the empty bottles of milk and the fresh fruit on the table, then looked back at her. ‘You do want the baby,’ he said. ‘Why won’t you admit it?’

‘Tell me, Israel, what’s he like now?’

‘Who?’

‘The baby. Does he have eyes and ears? Does he have fingers and toes? Can he feel pain?’

‘For Christ’s sake, Noelle, stop it. You talk as if … as if …’

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’ He shook his head in despair. ‘I don’t understand you.’

She smiled softly. ‘No. You don’t.’

He stood there a moment, making up his mind.

‘All right, I’m putting my ass in a sling for you, but if you’re really determined to have an abortion, let’s get it over with. I have a doctor friend who owes me a favour. He’ll …’

‘No.’

He stared at her.

‘Larry’s not ready yet,’ she said.

Three weeks later at four o’clock in the morning, Israel Katz was awakened by a furious concierge pounding on his door. ‘Telephone, Monsieur Night Owl!’ he yelled. ‘And tell your caller that it is the middle of the night, when respectable people are asleep!’

Israel stumbled out of bed and sleepily made his way down the hall to the telephone, wondering what crisis had arisen. He picked up the receiver.

‘Israel?’

He did not recognize the voice at the other end of the phone.

‘Yes?’

‘Now …’ It was a whisper, disembodied and anonymous.

‘Who is this?’

‘Now. Come now, Israel …’

There was an eeriness to the voice, an unearthly quality that sent a chill down his spine. ‘Noelle?’

‘Now …’

‘For Christ’s sake,’ he exploded. ‘I won’t do it. It’s too late. You’ll die, and I’m not going to be responsible. Get yourself to a hospital.’

There was a click in his ear, and he stood there holding the phone. He slammed the receiver and went back to his room, his mind churning. He knew that he could not do any good now, no one could. She was five and a half months pregnant. He had warned her time and time again, but she had refused to listen. Well, it was her responsibility. He wanted to have no part of it.

He began to dress as fast as he could, his bowels cold with fear.

When Israel Katz walked into her apartment, Noelle was lying on the floor in a pool of blood, hemorrhaging. Her face was dead white, but it showed no sign of the agony that must have been racking her body. She was wearing what appeared to be a wedding dress. Israel knelt at her side. ‘What happened?’ he asked. ‘How did —?’ He stopped, as his eyes fell on a bloody, twisted wire coat hanger near her feet.

‘Jesus Christ!’ He was filled with a rage and at the same time a terrible frustrating feeling of helplessness. The blood was pouring out faster now, there was not a moment to lose.

‘I’ll call an ambulance,’ and he started to rise.

Noelle reached up and grabbed his arm with surprising strength, and pulled him back down to her.

‘Larry’s baby is dead,’ she said, and her face was lit with a beautiful smile.

A team of six doctors worked for five hours trying to save Noelle’s life. The diagnosis was septic poisoning, perforated womb, blood poisoning and shock. All the doctors agreed that there was little chance that she could live. By six o’clock that night Noelle was out of danger and two days later, she was sitting up in bed able to talk. Israel came to see her.

‘All the doctors say that it is a miracle you’re alive, Noelle.’

She shook her head. It was simply not her time to die. She had taken her first vengeance on Larry, but it was only the beginning. There was more to come. Much more. But first she had to find him. It would take time. But she would do it.

Chapter Three

Catherine

Chicago: 1939–1940

The growing winds of war that were blowing across Europe were reduced to no more than gentle, warning zephyrs when they reached the shores of the United States.

On the Northwestern campus, a few more boys joined the ROTC, there were student rallies urging President Roosevelt to declare war on Germany and a few seniors enlisted in the Armed Forces. In general, however, the sea of complacency remained the same, and the underground swell that was soon to sweep over the country was barely perceptible.

As she walked to her cashier’s job at the Roost that October afternoon, Catherine Alexander wondered whether the war would change her life, if it came. She knew one change that she had to make, and she was determined to do it as soon as possible. She desperately wanted to know what it was like to have a man hold her in his arms and make love to her, and she knew that she wanted it partly because of her physical needs, but also because she felt she was missing out on an important and wonderful experience. My God, what if she got run over by a car and they did a post mortem on her and discovered she was a virgin! No, she had to do something about it. Now.

Catherine glanced around the Roost carefully, but she did not see the face she was looking for. When Ron Peterson came in an hour later with Jean-Anne, Catherine felt her body tingle and her heart begin to pound. She turned away as they walked past her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw the two make their way to Ron’s booth and sit down. Large banners were strung around the room, ‘TRY OUR DOUBLE HAMBURGER SPECIAL’ … ‘TRY OUR LOVER’S DELIGHT’ … ‘TRY OUR TRIPLE MALT.’

Catherine took a deep breath and walked over to the booth. Ron Peterson was studying the menu, trying to make up his mind. ‘I don’t know what I want,’ he was saying.