by Sarah Hualde
“Then why’d she let Don stay?”
“Don threatened to take Ivy away. Miss Annie thought he’d just leave one day and never come back. He did leave a lot. But he always came back.”
“Do you think Don has Ivy now?”
Emily nodded and blubbered. “I’m scared. Really, scared. I’m the only one who knew where Ivy was.
We’d meet up every other day. At the library. She’d hide in the bathroom and I’d bring her snacks. But I’ve gone every day, and she doesn’t show. That’s not like her."
“Have you tried calling?” Lydia re-situated, on the cushion next to Emily. She took down her favorite movie quilt and wrapped it around her young friend. Emily wept, again.
“She doesn’t have it. She told me that Martin took it from her. “
“Martin Levere?” Lydia’s skin bristled at the creep’s name.
“She went to him for help. Money or a place to stay, I guess.” Bile rose in Lydia’s throat. How bad was Don that Martin was the safer option? “He only made things worse. And then took her phone. She worried he’d follow her to Honey Pot. I guess he tried, but didn’t make it? I heard about the wreck.”
“News makes the rounds quickly here. So, if you’re not afraid of Martin or Don, who are you afraid of?”
“Martin has friends. Some show up at the mission. Mr. Mike sees through them and kicks them out but they come from time to time. One of Martin’s friends knows I’m there and they both know I’m a friend of Ivy’s. And they know I know about them. I’m terrified.”
Martin might not have completed his last trip, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t get to her before.
Heavy with heartache and apprehension Emily laid her head on Lydia’s knee and wept until she fell asleep. Lydia sat there, stroking her hair for a good while, gathering her thoughts and planning her next action. She rose, delicately placing Emily’s pile of blonde hair on a throw pillow. She called Mr. Mike, informing him of Emily’s location and important tidbits of their talk. Mr. Mike would be extra cautious with guests to the Mission.
*****
Though Gus didn’t succumb to the snickerdoodle bait, nothing was wrong with trying again. This time Lydia made a pan of monkey bread, from a batch of cinnamon rolls, with Emily helping.
“Don’t worry.” She comforted the teenager for the tenth time in the last five minutes. “I’m not turning you in for anything. I’m not even going to spill your secret but I'll tell him you spoke with Ivy nine days ago and that you’re anxious. He may ask you some questions but you don’t have to worry. Mr. Mike will meet us there. He’ll take you back to the Mission. He’s also on the lookout for Martin and his friends.”
Gus plowed his way through two plates of the warm, Christmastime treat, while Emily spilled her story. To Lydia and Mr. Mike’s delighted surprise, Emily poured out detail after detail. Gus took notes, in between bites. Mr. Mike gave names to the monsters he knew of and the nicknames of their friends.
“That explains the cell we found in Martin’s car. It was no longer connected but had your number in its contact list. I was trying to figure out what Lydia Everette was doing on a sleazebag’s call list. Now, it makes sense.”
“Has Martin come around?” Lydia inquired, running her finger through leftover cinnamon glaze and licking it off. Emily mimicked her. The glaze was delicious.
“He woke up this morning. But doesn’t feel like talking. Thankfully, he’s too dumb to ask for a lawyer, yet. We’ve got the finest looking nurse on duty asking him questions. She’s a Lewiston deputy. Gus winked. Emily stiffened at the news of Martin’s wakeful state and noticing her distress Lydia took her small hand in hers.
"He’s not getting close to Honey Pot. Not for a while.” Gus assured Emily. “And his friend, he was on parole. Emphasis on was. He’s being held for multiple issues and is telling tales that should get Martin put away too.”
“Did you contact Tammy’s mother?” Lydia asked as Gus nodded.
“She was very, very helpful. So was the manager. He gave us security tapes without us having to ask. Lewiston is on it. That means I’m off of it. I won’t be getting new info. Only requests for more information.”
“What about Ivy? Can she be officially missing, now?” Lydia added.
“Mr. Mike and Emily will have to help me with the paperwork. But we’ll send it out and see if someone from Lewiston to Ashton knows anything we don’t.” Emily sighed, still worried about whether she’d made the right choice to confide in Lydia and come down to the police station. Concern for her friend over powered her dedication to secrecy. A friend who hated your guts was much better than a friend in danger.
*****
Her head thrummed. It thrummed louder than her scratchy throat. It thrummed at the damage she’d caused, in her family. Pastor Dean had been correct. The pageant had grown too heavy for her to carry. The shepherds were all healed, but now Mary and her three angel siblings had the dreaded stomach flu. Kat feared her children would catch it soon. Just in time for the play.
Thaddeus had arranged and treated Sam and Jess to a movie night and sleepover with their grandparents. He sent Kat off to rehearsals without her children and with no explanation. She had returned angrier than ever and took her frustration out on an unsuspecting pile of dirty dishes. She ranted as she scraped dried cereal crust from bowls. She fumed when she caught her thumbnail on a fork prong. When Thad arrived home from the diner, he found her asleep on the kitchen floor. Her blue boot propped up on the kitchen stool.
He poured himself and his dozing wife a cup of coffee and joined her on the floor. “Kat,” She woke, with a defensive swing of her arm, and eased when he placed a mug in her mitts. “Honey,”
“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me how horrid I’ve been. How the kids hate me and how you’re not too fond of me either? That’s what I need right now.”
“Whoa, now, your fight is not with me. We both know that. But I’ve given you room to figure it out on your own. You’re just too stubborn to see.” He offered her a shoulder to lean upon, which she reluctantly accepted. How long had it been since she’d let him hold her? Not since Black Friday that’s was certain. “The kids do not hate you.”
She sniffled, despising her tears as weakness and then hating that she judged herself. Why was she always doing that? “No, but they’re scared of me. That’s worse.”
“Perhaps, but they’re also scared for you. You’re worrying them. Look around. What do you see?”
Kat didn’t need to move to know what he was saying. He continued, “A Christmas tree, with ornaments other people have put on it. Where’s the mouse advent calendar, the motion activated snowman, the scented candles? What about the Christmas movies at night? That book about the Christmas log and the crepes? Where’s all the stuff you put into Christmas?”
“I know. I know. But the pageant…”
He kissed her head and shushed her. “The pageant is history based. It’s a two-thousand-year-old event. None of the details ever change. Why so much stress? What do you have to prove?”
Kat stammered and shifted. “I don’t know, Thad. I don’t know. I want to do it right. I want it to be the best.”
“You can't top the first one, sorry. No matter how well you sew a sheep, you can’t beat it. That’s it. Stop trying. Just do your best and let everything else go.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“You’ve participated in these pageants for years. Every other one was great. Why is your own not good enough for you?”
“It’s mine! That’s why. It’s me and everyone’s watching.”
“Who’s watching and why are they watching you?”
“Everyone! And you, you are why!” She play-punched at her husband’s chest. He watched her astonished. She crumbled and cried, spouting sentences without meaning and mumbling into his collar. “You’re the elder’s kid and I’m the painted woman from the city. I always have been. I was good enough for the church when I w
as a repentant single twenty something getting her life straight. But then, I had to go above my station and seduce the congregation’s sweetheart.”
Thad chuckled. “I didn’t know I was seduced. Whoa, you’re good.”
“I’m serious. They don’t look at me like they look at everyone else. Flora is the eccentric earth mama with the heart of gold. Lydia is the solid, sheriff’s wife with the missionary kid. And I’m the haphazard house keeper, failing home educator, and horrible wife with the deplorable past.”
“Why does it matter what they think? Not that they all do.”
“They do and it does. I don’t know why it does, but it does. I’m trying the best I can to keep my past from sullying the kids’ reputations. But I can’t do enough to please them.”
“Who are these thems?” Thad pulled his wife closer. She sunk into his embrace, all her usual feist fiercely fading.
“You know who they are. It doesn’t help for me to list them. Quilts aren’t even safe around me. Fruit platters beware. I bet they even think I snatched Lydia’s purse.”
Thad laughed, deep and echoing. “Oh, Kat, what have you done to yourself?” He kissed her temples and her cheeks as he chuckled over her paranoia. He wasn’t poking fun at her but couldn’t contain his delight at the secret softness of her feelings.
They sat for an hour until their legs cramped on the frigid floor. Thad crawled to the refrigerator and pulled out day old bagel pizzas. Kat yanked a cookie sheet out of the cabinet and they ate a cold dinner together, on the floor, drinking tea straight from the jug and using a dishcloth as a napkin.
“Okay, Thad,” Kat dusted her hands off on her pants and wobbled to her feet. “I will make this right. I’ve got to finish some things at the building.”
“You have to?”
“I left some stuff out and I need to straighten it up. I won’t be more than a couple of hours. But if I do it now, I can finish and spend the whole day with the kids tomorrow.” He smiled at her, with the same smile that had won her hard heart over.
“I’ll clean this up. Just don’t take too long. Some other city lady may swoop in and seduce me.” Kat tossed a sponge at Thad’s wavy black hair and staggered toward the garage. Her blue boot smacked a baseboard, and she stumbled to the floor. “Nope, no one could top that sexy walk.” He called after her, smiling at her awkward blush.
*****
Alone, in the silent building Kat went to fast work piling up costumes and organizing the sets. She determined to cancel Wednesday night’s rehearsal and shortening the rest of the week’s schedule. She took time and care accomplishing much, cutting out unnecessary lines to the play, adding in easier hymns, and simplifying the stage directions.
She took three days to write her fabulous Christmas play and in two hours she had picked it apart and made her 45-minute masterpiece into a ten-minute synopsis and sing along. It wasn’t perfect, but it was manageable and should be fun for everyone. She silenced the nagging in her mind but one small voice still called for attention. With no one around, Kat reverently if not a tad dramatically, laid on the center aisle, face to the carpet, and prayed.
“Dear Lord, I keep on messing everything up. I always do. I’ve taken on too much for me. I knew better. I felt you urging me to let it go, but I didn’t listen. Now, my family is hurting. I’m angry and frustrated and I’m destroying the spirit of the entire celebration.
Please heal the families that are ill. Please heal my heart and help me lean into your love. Please help this play reflect you and not me. Use it to touch the hearts of many and not build up my ego. Help me be okay with humility. In Jesus name,” With an amen still on her lips, Kat jumped to her knees, as a loud scuffling echoed from above. A melancholy moaning marked the stillness, followed by more skittering.
Surely, God would not take down the entire building to save her from facing public disaster. She listened, still and focused. There was no wind howling outside. No rain pelted the stained glass. The sounds weren’t weather related. Her knees trembled as she rose.
Kevin and Thad had debated the presence of a thief in the church building. Kat and her girlfriends refused to believe anyone in their midst would take off with the water well donations. But the money was gone. She stalked to the back stairway, but the sounds had stopped. Standing as still as possible, she slowed her breath and continued to listen. Five minutes. Ten minutes. No more noises. Just as she exhaled normally, three strong solid raps shook the locked front doors.
Kat peeked out the doors, red with embarrassment. Her startled squawks still echoed in her ears. “Yes?” She answered the visitor through the delivery intercom. Her cell phone clutched in her hand, ready to dial Thaddeus for back up.
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting outside for ten minutes. I tried texting. You still need a ride or what?”
Kat peaked out the peephole into the face of a male with disheveled hair. She wasn’t sure if it was the style or if someone had roused the young man from an adventurous dream. She guessed the latter, it was 2 am.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“I got a call about an hour ago for a ride to Ashton. This is the address where I'm supposed to pick up my rider. “He nodded toward his Kia, the car service sticker on its rear window. “I’m to drive a lady to Ashton. That’s all I know. If that’s not you, could you please let whoever else, is in there, know I’m waiting?”
“You must have the wrong church building. I didn’t call for a ride.”
“You didn’t? This isn’t you?” He pulled out his phone and read the number that had called for service. It was Kat’s number.
“Let me check.” She scanned her call log. Yes, her phone had made an outgoing call, an hour ago. Between the time she was in the kitchen, rewriting the script and the time she was praying on the carpet. Shivers racked her shoulders, and she shuttered. “Please wait here, a second. I’ll be right out.”
Quickly as she could she snagged her coat, and her purse, and texted Thad. “I’m okay and I’m coming home. Please be up when I get there. Something is going on.” She opened the door and locked it behind her. Then she explained the mistake to the irritated chauffeur and soothed him with a cash tip. She started her van, looking in the backseat before entering, and watched the man race away before heading home. The lights of the sanctuary glittered behind her but the uneasy fear followed her home.
Thad was standing in the opened garage with an aluminum bat in his hands when Kat pulled in. He met her at the driver’s side door. “You okay?”
She nodded, wide eyed and exited the car, entering Thad’s arms. She explained the noises and the driver and the phone call. He drove back to the building, with his wife in the passenger seat. She came with him, never more than an arm’s length away. They entered every office, went into the storage basement, and examined closets, together. On attic landing, a rustling resounded, low and soft.
“Stay here, babe.” He whispered.
“Yeah, right.” She returned and pecked his stubble studded cheek. He unlocked the door and flipped on the switch, rapid fire. Nothing. No animals, no movement, just boxes. Boxes, everywhere. Kat sneezed, her dust allergy ignited. She tried to smother her sneezing fit, but it made her eyeball feel like rockets about to launch. Thad eyed the room, from the doorway, and switched off the light.
“C’mon, no one’s here.” Thad double checked the locks on the main doors. He turned the heater to low, switched on the emergency lights, and escorted his wife to their vehicle. “I’ve got no idea what happened. I would say you imagined it all. You know big building, spooky corners, creaky eaves, but there’s the driver and his number is in your phone.” Kat held tight to Thad’s hand all the way home. “Any way you could’ve butt dialed for a ride?”
Kat shrugged. Her adrenaline faded and all she could manifest was her bed. It was four am. Thaddeus would be go back to work at nine. The kid’s would be home at lunch and both adults still needed to shower, before sleep. Had she dreamt the entire episode?
*****
Extra money at Christmas was nonexistent. Though Flora’s goal was to instill intrinsic gratitude in her children, she loved blessing them with carefully selected presents. Their family never matched the gift extravaganza of other families they knew. Still, they were happy with their traditions. One gift to wear, one to read, one to play, and one that was wished for, Kevin and Flore stuck with their philosophy. It kept rooms tidier, hearts less entitled, and the check book in balance.
This Christmas was tighter than ever. Flora took on odd jobs. They scheduled deep cleaning the B.F.F. building for Wednesday mornings. This Wednesday’s focus point was the baptismal. During the summer, her kids loved to help her with this job. But mid-December was much chillier than mid-June. Toes went numb minutes upon entry.
The building was oddly eerie when empty. The office staff was already on half days for Christmas and didn’t come to work until after lunch. Flora set up a playlist of instrumental Christmas jazz, fast enough to pep up her routine but not a distraction.
Before hitting play, a rustling in the kitchen startled her. She ignored it though her goose bumps defied her bravery. The building wasn’t new and often creaked with its own aches and pains. They always alarmed her, but investigating them nearly horrified her. Without a friend in tow, she was content continuing her cleaning schedule, but kept her phone closer than normal. Her kids were at Kat’s and her mommy radar left the shuffling and scuttling pass without inviting inward panic.
Flora waded into the waters in an old pair of gym shorts and a rash guard. Her towel and robe waited just out of reach, to rescue her from the chill. The front door to the sanctuary creaked and slammed, letting in a frosty shot of wind. Flora shivered and shrieked. “Who’s there?” When no one answered she snagged her gloves and the pool broom. Just as she got into a rhythm the door repeated its shutter and slam. The air was colder than before and Flora sneezed.
“God bless you.” Flora’s scream was silenced as she slipped under the water’s crust. She wheezed upon resurfacing. Pastor Dean peeped over the edge of the baptismal. “I thought you weren’t in?”
