Guestbook Page 2

Byron after his 1999 Marquis Open victory.

  As Byron continued to win, reports of his erratic on-court behavior increased. He was observed to speak audibly before serves and points, as if to an unseen other, and to shake his head and laugh.

  In 2000, Byron held a press conference to challenge an opponent’s accusations of courtside coaching. Number four–seeded Owen Oberman, Byron’s longtime rival, had accused him of cheating, claiming he had heard him “talking to someone” in the men’s locker room before a quarterfinals match at the Rogers Cup. Byron denied being coached but admitted he talked to himself when he needed “psyching up.”

  Drawings from Byron’s sketchbook, 2000. Byron was self-taught and often sketched between matches. His books were filled with images of a figure wearing nineteenth-century North African dress. Byron often wrote the name “Walter” alongside these drawings.

  Byron after his 2001 Omega Open victory over Peter Evanston.

  Byron after his 2002 Indian Wells victory over Henry Klinger.

  Byron after his 2003 Madrid Open victory over Buzz Klein.

  Minutes after his 2003 US Open victory over Ian Maitland, Byron fell into a coma. Janine took her son for evaluation with Dr. Fran Lebvol at the University of Western Ontario.

  Dr. Fran Lebvol was a pioneering researcher in the field of bicameral psychology, with a focus on sensed presence. Sensed presence refers to the experiences of explorers, sailors, POWs, survivors of shipwrecks and terrorist attacks, and other sufferers of extreme trauma who have reported becoming aware, in grave situations, of an unexplained presence having joined them, a benevolent companion or helper.

  Dr. Lebvol’s Bicameral Sense Helmet, designed to stimulate the angular gyrus through magnetic waves. The stimulus causes the wearer to sense a presence, usually described as behind and to the right of the subject.

  The many people who have felt a sensed presence include Ernest Shackleton and Charles Lindbergh, both of whom recorded the experiences in their published accounts. Shackleton, in describing his famous journey with Tom Crean and Frank Worsley over South Georgia Island, noted that “during that long and wracking march of thirty-six hours over the unnamed mountains and glaciers of South Georgia it seemed to me often that we were four, not three.”

  On his first solo transatlantic flight from New York to Paris, Lindbergh recalled, he fell asleep, and woke to the company of “presences—vaguely outlined forms, transparent, moving, riding weightless with me in the plane. . . . Without turning my head, I see them as clearly as though in my normal field of vision.” He wrote that they were “giving me messages of importance unattainable in ordinary life.”

  Within a few months of observation, Lebvol succeeded in pinpointing Walter’s appearances in Byron’s consciousness to his “threshold” moment of life-threatening exertion during his matches. Byron admitted that this was “what it takes for me to win.”

  Byron took a leave of absence from the sport in the fall of 2004, spending time with friends and continuing to see Lebvol. But after four months he fell into a severe depression. Within a year he had returned to the game.

  Byron’s game continued to follow the familiar pattern of victory and collapse. Crowds were drawn more by the spectacle of his breakdowns than by the play. They started arriving after the first and second sets. USTA officials began to fear for his stability and health. It had become clear to Lebvol that Walter’s presence was not entirely benevolent. Walter helped Byron win, but could do so only when Byron drove himself to injury and exhaustion.

  After a fall left Byron with a broken leg in 2005, the USTA made the unusual decision to suspend him, citing concerns for his health.

  Janine Byron at an exhibition tournament in Lisbon in 2001. Out of concern for her son’s sanity, she made plans to move with him to the Southwest, in order to be closer to her family.

  Shortly after his suspension, Byron suffered a complete mental breakdown. He moved back in with his mother and spent another stretch of time in Lebvol’s care. He sketched constantly, his drawings growing darker in content. Byron complained of missing Walter, insisting that he had “let him down.”

  On the day of the planned move to the Southwest, Billy Byron was reported missing. Two days later, a set of his tennis whites were found folded neatly on a rock in a ravine behind his mother’s house.

  PUBLIC FIGURE

  BEAUTY LOVER

  DIGITAL TALENT

  TRAVELER

  SPINARIO

  PARMA/ABU DHABI

  So beautiful.

  I love.

  That looks relly relaxing.

  Where can I find that dress?!

  Love this dress babe.

  Hi my love.

  Looks like you’re having a great time!

  Wow so stunning.

  Beautiful shot and dress.

  How stunning are you.

  Is that a skirt or dress? Love the lace.

  Wow.

  My dear, so elegant, so confident, I’m in love with your feed.

  So beautiful.

  Oh wow looks so dreamy.

  Such a lovely picture girl.

  Love your dress so gorgeous.

  Wow so beautiful.

  Gorgeous dress and gorgeous photo.

  Lovly dress!

  Ahhh I love this looks amazing.

  This shot is so beautiful of you.

  What a lovely room.

  Oh wow enjoy it.

  Love this stunning dress!

  This is romantic.

  Looks wonderful place there.

  This is beautiful.

  Such a wonderful pic.

  This is goals.

  AT THE FOOT OF THE BED

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  1. She was given a room to stay in. She woke up, and there was a man in a green cardigan at the foot of the bed. He looked surprised to see her. Then he disappeared.

  2. His wife had a dream. There was a female figure at the foot of the bed. She tried to talk to it. She asked, “What do you want?” In the corner of the room, a terra-cotta urn fell to the floor and smashed. She asked again, “What do you want?” The figure handed her a letter, and his wife knew it held news about their children.

  3. He just stood at the foot of the bed. He could not believe there was someone in it. He was angry that he could not climb in and fall asleep, and he was cold and confused.

  4. The owl flew in a silent circle around the room, landing on a post at the foot of the bed.

  5. She watched her, wishing she would wake up, wishing she could get in beside her and then she would wake up, why was she not waking up? She was going to wait until she woke up. She was going to stay right there until she woke up again.

  6. The woman in the bed was the same age as she was. The woman in the bed had been able to have children. She was jealous that she had children.

  7. There were three children sleeping in the bed where before there had been two.

  8. His blankets were pulled violently off. At the foot of the bed he saw a dark figure that abruptly vanished when he addressed it.

  9. The man’s face was clean-shaven, and his hair was cut short as though he were sick. He was bare-chested even though the room was always cold. The bed was in the same place.

  10. The woman at the foot of the bed stood still. She had no features, but she had a lot of lace on her head.
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  11. She saw a figure bent over one end of the bed, whispering in a foreign language.

  12. She woke when she felt something heavy settle itself down on the blankets at her feet.

  13. When she looked at the picture of the bedroom, there was a figure beneath the covers.

  14. The bed was curtained and canopied. Suddenly the curtains at the foot of the bed were drawn back and he could make out the shape of a great cat, a panther perhaps. With its eyes fixed upon him, it slowly began to approach the foot of the bed. It made its way around to the left side of the bed.

  15. They were awakened by a strange noise. A calf stood in the center of the room. It approached them and placed its forelegs on the foot of the bed.

  16. The armchair moved by itself across the carpet and stopped at the foot of the bed.

  17. The figure at the foot of the bed was nude and emitted a bluish-white light.

  18. When he woke and looked at the spot where he’d seen the figure in the night, there was a small ringlike burn on the carpet.

  I WILL DRAW A DIAGRAM OF HER MOVEMENTS

  I’M HIDING. VERY MUCH HIDING. She is shameless. My blood pressure may be low, but she is shameless. I’m hiding from her so she doesn’t see what I do next. So she doesn’t meet my friends and ask me for their numbers or email addresses or handles or anything. So she doesn’t see me anymore. Or see what I do. So she can’t copy. Her versions of me. Her twins. I’m hiding in here, out of sight. So she can’t get me, can’t copy me and twin me. It’s not okay. She’s made copies of him, copies of my supplies, of my phone book. Once she outright stole and sold it.

  The creepy creeping. The okayness creeps. I hear from friends. I can eat almonds in here and she can’t see me. I’m very much hiding. Coincidence. A twin grew beside her and then kept growing, kept finding tissue to absorb and duplicate. Twins want to twin. What moisturizer. What shoes. She wants my bathing suit. I’m hiding.

  There is a corridor at the top of this house; it’s long and passes a number of rooms. In the middle of the corridor, the passage opens onto a larger room where there are people. It is essential I pass this part as quickly as possible.

  CHRISTMAS EVE

  Nuts, Swiffer handle, Puff pastry, Oranges, Spoon, Eggs, White chocolate, Milk

  The night before, the twenty-third, at a party, the subject of ghosts came up. She asked the Academy Award winner if he believed in ghosts or if he had a ghost story. He shook his head, sat down, and began talking to someone else. It occurred to her that maybe the subject of ghosts was not cocktail party conversation, and that the stories that could be told over canapés were not the only ones. There were other stories that were harder, impossible, to tell.

  Later, on the walk home, her friend elaborated: A suicide, an infanticide. Ghosts. Not ghost stories.

  She slept alone that night. Her daughter was with her father. Woke at five, took a sleeping pill, and then woke at nine. It was raining out. It was Christmas Eve. The tasks of the day felt like brushing crumbs from a countertop. The vinegar in her salad at lunch was strong, everything stung, her tongue felt burnt.

  There was a service at the church. Her neighbor recognized her, her ex, and her daughter and invited them over for eggnog and cookies. Why not? Why not. The apartment, with the neighbor, her children, and her grandchildren, felt warm. They ate crackers out of the package and cheese and whatever was in the fridge. There was turkey chili for the kids and some champagne. For the moment she got the Christmas feeling, that everything was right.

  As they drank the champagne, the subject of ghosts came up. A ghost that had haunted an ex-fiancée, a blur in the air that circled the bed. A cold wind that had come down a chimney into a large stone fireplace, drawing the pregnant woman toward it. The ghost of an actor’s father. They left. She and her ex-husband put their daughter to bed. Her ex-husband was sleeping over at her apartment so the family could be together on Christmas morning. She left them together reading books.

  Finally, at the last party of the night, in a house by the river, she told a story to a couple about meeting a librarian earlier in the week. She had just lost her husband and was not taking part in preparing dishes of vegetables and cheese for the library staff Christmas party. Grief came off her like heat.

  It was getting late. She left and walked east, away from the water. She wanted to walk and walk and keep walking.

  When she got home her sweater itched, so she stripped down to hose and bra and tidied up.

  She went into the bedroom to get her nightgown and saw her husband’s body in her bed.

  She heard him breathing.

  PEELE HOUSE

  Peele House was built in 1931, in Deacon’s Hamlet, New York, by the Herfleisher and Peele families. It was a hunting lodge for the Peele family for a number of years, before being converted to a residence in 1950.

  The stairwell window seen from the lawn, before the 1962 renovations.

  Deacon’s Pond.

  One of the old outhouses. An Edwardian brooch was found here in 2006.

  Mae Richfield, a resident of Deacon’s Hamlet, who suffered five miscarriages between 1937 and 1942.

  On the left, a storage hutch on the property, built into the side of a hill.

  The house’s first permanent resident was filmmaker Joel Bicroft (shown here in 1961 with an unknown woman). He lived at Peele House until moving to La Jolla in 1970. He renovated in 1962, closing off the south chimney, building a pantry between the kitchen and the dining room, adding a new entrance, and modernizing the kitchen. He lived in an unconventional arrangement with two female companions, Angela Creswell and Keira Henderson.

  A still from Encounter à Deux, a 1964 Joel Bicroft film.

  The pantry between the kitchen and the dining room. A fireplace was blocked off to create this passage.

  Kimberly Cass, an actress who lived in the house with Bicroft, Creswell, and Henderson in 1968. Cass confided to a friend that she felt uncomfortable in the house and would often encounter the scent of violets in the pantry.

  Keira Henderson in 1960. Henderson suffered a miscarriage in 1961 while living at Peele House. She later gave birth to a son, Jonathan Bicroft. As an infant, he slept in a dresser drawer in her bedroom.

  Angela Creswell. She stayed in the Deacon’s Hamlet area after Bicroft, Henderson, and their son moved to La Jolla. She later married and would refer to Peele House as “the sad house” to friends.

  The dining room.

  The Howe family in May 1972. The family added two small rooms above the garage when they moved into Peele House in 1970.

  The pond where Frank Howe drowned in August 1972.

  Peele house was untenanted from 1975 to 1979, when Chester and Grace Keane moved in, with their son, Francis, shown here as a baby.

  Francis Keane on his third birthday.

  The Keanes’ German shepherd, who would often bark at the southwest corner of the dining room when nothing was there.

  The master bedroom during the Keanes’ tenancy. Grace Keane remarked that the room had faulty wiring and the lights would flicker erratically.

  The ravine directly below the house, where Grace Keane would hear the sound of children playing.

  The guest room bath, located next to the disused chimney.

  Jacob and Raymond Dance bought the house in 1985 and installed a swimming pool.

  The room above the garage where dramatic fluctuations in temperature were observed.

  The living room, where a puddle of water would appear in front of the large window.

  QUESADILLA

  THERE IS A HOUSE ON THE SHORE OF INCHIQUIN LOUGH. The house was the home of the Leighton family from the late eighteenth century until the late 1870s, when it became th
e residence of Lieutenant Colonel John Bridges.