May 1970 - Page 29

How long has it been now since Barnabas went into that dreadful room?  Weeks, months?  I felt like I had just gotten him back – after all that time in 1897 and then our estrangement when he was under the Leviathan’s control – and now he is gone again.  I find that I cannot stay away from that room for long.  He is so near and yet so far.  I keep hoping that I will see him there, but I never do.  But I can’t help returning there again and again, hoping, hoping.

And when I am not in the East Wing, I find myself haunting the Old House – or is that a poor turn of a phrase?  Sometimes I think I hear Barnabas there or feel him there, but when I turn, there is nothing.  Maybe Eliot is right, and time is so fluid and flexible that what I am sensing is Barnabas’ essence constantly flowing through that house.  Willie watches me with worried eyes, but I know he misses Barnabas, too.  He seems rather lost rattling around the Old House alone.  Whenever we talk, he resorts to his nervous habit of combing his fingers through his hair.  If only he knew how comical he looks with his hair sticking this way and that.  But I don’t laugh; nothing is funny anymore.

Could it be my fault that Barnabas had to flee to parallel time? Was there something about the serum that caused his vampiric urges to surge out of control?  And even if it didn’t, the fact remains that I still failed to cure him.  I have spent some time in the lab studying the serum, but I have discovered nothing.  I have trouble concentrating; when I am in the lab – or anywhere else – I think about that room, that damn room.  What if Barnabas does appear, and I’m not there?

I have also spoken several times with Eliot, the dear man, to discuss parallel time.  He is genuinely trying to be helpful, but sometimes I lose patience with his infinite patience.  He wants to sit and calmly sip sherry while he extols various theories, and all the while, I am thinking that I must get back to that room.

I think the family is worried about me and what they see as my obsession with finding Barnabas.  Elizabeth found me in the room again today and tried to talk sense to me, but I told her that I feel closer to Barnabas there. I even said that I would stay in that room forever if I thought I could join him.  I know I am wearing my heart on my sleeve, but I am too tired and too worried to hide my feelings.

Sometimes I get angry that Barnabas left me, but then I remember his anguished face the last time I saw him.  He was struggling so hard for control, and I had the distinct impression that he felt that he had to get away from me.  If only the room would change while I am in it; if only I could find my way to him. I have no idea what is happening to him.  He might be in danger – he has no one to protect him if he is still a vampire.  What if they discover his curse?  Perhaps he is human there, perhaps he is happy.  But if he is, wouldn’t he have come to the room at some point to let me know?  I feel guilty sometimes because I don’t want him to be happy there – I want him here with me.  But how can I deny him his humanity, if he has found it there, when I couldn’t restore it to him here? 
 (Episode 1007)

I hate that room.  I hate its dingy walls, its musty smell.  I hate the way the dust invades my pores and makes me sneeze.  I hate the scratching sounds of the mice as they scurry through the walls.  I hate the feeling of emptiness that lives there and seeps into my bones.  I hate the fact that it has taken Barnabas from me.

But I must stay there.  I must hope that if I stay there long enough, sometime, somewhere, he will hear me.  Or that I will be able to go to him. I have a feeling that he needs me.  I want him to need me.  But I don’t want him to be in danger.

I hate that room. 

But I cannot leave it. 

(Episode 1012)