CHAPTER 11Yesterday I saw a woman who made me feel uneasy.
We were sitting in the center of the movie house, near the front. I turned to say something and then I saw her. A thin white-haired woman with a nervous face.
And then I remembered. She was like that other woman, long ago, the one I had seen in the store who had reminded me of Aunt Celia. The one who had helped me down a long winding road that led to a grave in a basement.
The brief glimpse of a face was a break in the dike that allowed the memories to come washing over me again, voices and pictures on the crest of the wave like driftwood.
I thought back to the time when sleep was a bottomless pit of nightmares. When the hands of a clock could frighten me.
As the threads of memory knitted in and out and were cut off at the ben
