Strangers

for three weeks without noticeable effect, and then suddenly, two weeks ago, her body not only went into a state of remission but began rebuilding damaged tissues."
        The timing of the girl's turnaround coincided perfectly with the first appearance of the strange rings on Brendan Cronin's hands. However, Stefan Wycazik made no mention of that coincidence.
        Jarvil produced more X rays and tests that showed a remarkable improvement in the child's haversian canals, the elaborate network that carried small blood vessels and lymphatics throughout the bone for the purpose of maintenance and repair. Many of these had been clogged with a plaquelike substance that pinched off the vessels passing through them. In the past two weeks, however, the plaque almost disappeared, allowing the full circulation required for healing and regeneration.
        "No one even knew that namiloxiprine could clean out the canals this way," Jarvil said. "No record of it. Oh, yes, minor unclogging, but only as a consequence of getting the disease itself under control. Nothing like this. Amazing."
        "If regeneration continues at this rate," Klinet said, "Emmy could be a normal, healthy girl in three months. Really phenomenal."
        Jarvil said, "She could be well again."
        They grinned at Father Wycazik, and he did not have the heart to suggest that neither their hard work nor the wonder drug was responsible for Emmeline Halbourg's cure. They were euphoric, so Stefan kept to himself the possibility that Emmy's cure had been effected by some power far more mysterious than modern medicine.
        
        Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
        Christmas Day with Lucy, Frank, and the grandchildren was fun and therapeutic for Ernie and Faye Block. By the time they went out for a walk (just the two of them) toward the end of the afternoon, they were feeling better than they had in months.
        The weather was perfect for walking: cold, crisp, but without wind. The most recent snowfall was four days old, so the sidewalks were clear. As twilight approached, the air shimmered with a purple radiance.
        Bundled in heavy coats and scarves, Faye and Ernie strolled arm in arm, talking animatedly about the day's events, enjoying the Christmas displays that Lucy's and Frank's neighbors had erected on their front lawns. The years slipped away, and Faye felt as if she and Ernie were still newlyweds, young and full of dreams.
        From the moment they had arrived in Milwaukee on December 15, ten days ago, Faye had reason to hope that everything was going to work out all right. Ernie had seemed bettera new bounciness in his step, more genuine good humor in his smile. Evidently, just basking in the love of his daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren was sufficient to burn away some of the crippling fear that had become the central fact of his life.
        The therapy sessions with Dr. Fontelaine, six so far, had also been remarkably beneficial. Ernie was still afraid of the dark but far less terrified than when they left Nevada. Phobias, according to the doctor, were easy to treat compared to many other psychiatric disorders. In recent years therapists had discovered that, in most cases, the symptoms were the disease rather than merely shadows cast by unresolved conflicts in the patient's subconscious. It was no longer considered necessary - or even possible or desirable - to seek the psychological causes of the condition in order to treat it. Long courses of therapy had been abandoned in favor of teaching the patient desensitization techniques that could eradicate the symptoms in months or even weeks.
        Approximately a third of all phobics could not be helped by these methods and, instead, required long-term treatment and even panic-blocking drugs like alprazolam. But Ernie had improved at a pace that even Dr. Fontelaine, an optimist by nature, found astonishing.
        Faye had been reading extensively about phobias and had discovered she could help Ernie by digging up amusing, curious facts that allowed him to view his condition from a different - less fearsome - perspective. He was especially fond of hearing about bizarre phobias that made his terror of the dark seem reasonable by comparison. For example, knowing there were pteronophobics out there, people who lived in constant and unreasonable fear of feathers, made his abhorrence of nightfall seem not only bearable but almost ordinary and logical, as well.