Dina pushed him through the restaurant and out into the blue winter light of evening, Clyde walking along by his side. Shopkeepers were shoveling snow from cobbled walkways, windows aglow with all sorts of Christmas Eve enticements, even an old man and his son were offering horse-drawn carriage rides around the old port.
Henry felt the sunset calling him, but then he closed his eyes to the phantasmagoria that beckoned. Images of his mother and father walking hand in hand, then the eternal echo of Claire walking by his side down this same cobbled way. Only now Dina was here with Tracy and somehow that seemed just about right. And there was Edith ahead of them all, leading their procession to Saint-Catherine's - like a parade of lost souls.
He'd kept in touch with Father Martin over the years, if only because the old priest was his last remaining point of contact with Claire and her last wishes...her real wishes, not the laundered list of tattered ideas Edith had summoned once upon a time...and the old priest had agreed to talk to Rolf and Dina and Anton about the things that had gone on after Claire's service. Edith and Tracy had, of course, wanted to bask in the reflected light of those faraway proceedings; that evening was a part of their family's mythology now, so why not?
Yet in fact, he had been counting on that.
And now, gathered at the entrance to Saint-Catherine's, the priest opened his arms and welcomed all of them to his sheltered domain - but Henry locked his chair's wheels and as he looked up at Dina.
"Please," Henry said, "go ahead. There are a few things I need to get for the morning."
"What?" Dina cried. "Certainly not! I'll not leave you to stand out here in this dampness..."
"Dina, please, go. I've got a few last-minute things to pick up for tomorrow morning..."
"Henry! There are already too many presents under that little tree..."
Henry smiled and nodded smartly. "Yup. It's not a bad little tree after all, is it, Linus? Charlie Brown would be proud of us."
Dina shook her head. "You never grew up, did you, Henry?"
He looked her in the eye and nodded. "It's been a struggle, but somehow I managed."
"Managed to...what?" she sighed, clearly exasperated with him...again.
"Yes. Precisely. Now go! You might learn something tonight, so listen with your heart."
He watched them go, this totally unexpected family he'd somehow acquired over the past few months, then he looked down at Clyde. "You want to stay with me?"
Oh, those eyes. Deep brown windows to the infinite.
"Well, okay then. Let's be off - just like a herd of turtles!" He turned his chair and started off along the Quai des Passagers, right beside the canal that led to the Seine. Where Time Bandits had been tied off a few weeks ago, he told himself once again.
"That was in another life, wasn't it, Old Boy...?"
He saw the girl from the restaurant again, only now she was standing where his boat had been. Now she was staring down into the water as he rolled up to her and stopped. And he watched her for a while, looked at her incongruous white ski parka and her preposterously purple socks.
Then she turned and knelt down - beside Clyde.
"Hello, Old Friend," she said - and Clyde wagged his tail gently while he licked her outstretched fingers. "It's good to see you again," she added - unnecessarily.
"So...you know Clyde too?"
"In a way, yes," the girl said. "May I walk with you?"
"Of course."
She smiled, and looking hard now he couldn't quite get a feel for the girl's true age. Maybe twenty...or perhaps forty years old...he just couldn't tell...
"My name is Henry," he said, holding out his hand.
And she took it. "And my name is Elizabeth."
Her skin was soft and warm, invitingly so despite the penetrating damp air here by the Seine. "Elizabeth, would you mind too much pushing this contraption. My shoulders don't feel up to the challenge this evening."
"Be happy to, Henry."
"So, pardon my asking, but are you from San Francisco, or Berkeley?"