Jason, formerly Adam, suddenly goes silent, his eyes squeezed shut, as though recalling something that he does not want to have to reckon with. He appears to be wavering, almost trembling, then starts shaking his head. There are tears streaming down his face. "Oh no", he is saying, "Oh my God. oh...My ...God."" I can tell he is not dramatizing any of this. He is having a traumatic recall. Lazarus is gently massaging his back and shoulders.
"What is it Jason. You can tell me", he says gently, tenderly, as though soothing a frightened two-year-old, "You can tell me...I'm here with you, love...You can tell me..."
"It was my last and final meeting with them, before I left the island. We were all in the physick garden, this time in the centre, by the sundial. There were four benches surrounding the canal of water around the sundial. I was seated on the bench, and they were all standing in front of me. The old man towering on one side of the boy, the old woman on his other side, his left, I think. Suddenly the kid lifted up his hands and showed me his palms. they were bleeding, bright red blood running from their wounds and dripping onto the paving stone. He simply said, "These are the wounds of my love for you"...And that is the last thing I remember....
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