Hyde by Daniel Levine

Author:Daniel Levine [Levine, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780544191181
Google: 1_nuAgAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0544191188
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2014-03-15T07:00:00+00:00

Twenty minutes later Jekyll sat down for breakfast. He pretended to read the paper as Poole poured his coffee. When the cup was full, Poole idled at attention behind the paper until Jekyll lowered the top half and looked him resolutely in the eye. Poole dipped his glossy head. I merely wanted to say, sir, that it is good to have you home. Thank you, Poole, Jekyll replied cagily. Good to be home. Poole bowed again and turned with the urn, then paused and said, Might we expect you to stay for some time, sir? Jekyll shrugged, shamming indifference, and gave his paper a shake. Yes, I expect so.

When Poole left, Jekyll set his newspaper aside and carried his coffee upstairs, moving very deliberately, as if the cup were brimming full and he did not want to spill a drop. But it was the body that felt precarious, as if a sudden gesture might pitch me back into it without warning. I was scared, and baffled, and could not help feeling somehow responsible, like a bad dog who had done something rash and stupid—even though of course I had not done anything. If I did not understand the laws of nature and science it was no matter, they existed, immutable, reliable, and the central one of my existence was that the needle was my key, my passport into and out of the world of the senses. Yet now it seemed the laws were breaking down. The façade of Henry Jekyll was no longer an absolute protection.

Jekyll held himself tensely against the intrusion of my thoughts as he paced his study. From a shelf he had pulled down a collection of cloth- and leather-bound books that he piled on his desk and consulted sporadically, scanning the lines of ornamental fluid scrawl—his own, I recognised—before shoving the books aside with an exasperated hiss. By that evening he was sprawled on his leather sofa, brooding at the reddish stain of sunset upon the ceiling. When Poole rapped on the door, he was silent. When Poole rapped again he called out testily, What is it? Poole opened the door. Mr. Utterson to see you, sir.

Jekyll sat bolt upright. What, he cried, now? We had not even heard the doorbell. Yes, sir. Mr. Utterson is downstairs.

Jekyll dragged a hand through his hair. Utterson! I had almost forgotten about the man, with all our other worries. We could not see him, of course, not now, not like this . . . Poole cleared his throat. Sir, I took a small liberty, I hope you don’t mind. I told Mr. Utterson that you had been slightly under the weather and that I would see if your circumstances had improved. Jekyll lifted his finger in the air, nodding. Yes, yes, that was very good thinking, Poole. You know, I am still recovering from my travels, in fact. Perhaps you would tell Mr. Utterson I’ll come to see him soon, in the next few days.

As soon as Poole left, Jekyll leapt up and crossed the room, pressed himself flat to the wall beside the window.

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