The Clearing

by Tom Deady

  The car rounded the corner and there it was. Yellow tape cordoned off the area and there was a fire inspector’s car parked in front of the ruins. Hannah’s heart settled and Ashley’s grip loosened. Under the crystal blue sky, with the summer sun bathing everything in its brilliant yellow light, it was just a pile of burnt wood. Where the tall grass had surrounded the house was nothing but blackened earth. The outbuildings had also been torched. Clearly this was arson; the fire inspector’s job would be an easy one.

  Dad turned the car around and headed back. This time, his gaze lingered in the rearview mirror and Hannah gave him a nod. He nodded back, almost imperceptibly, and drove toward the hospital.

  The ride was somber, each of them preoccupied with their own thoughts. Hannah was surprised when Dad pulled into the hospital parking lot. She had been thinking about last night, the events in the clearing, and kind of zoned out. She turned to Ashley and saw her friend was sound asleep.

  When they got to Jacob’s room, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed in street clothes. He looked smaller to Hannah, his face older, less radiant. She hoped it was just the result of the hospital stay, not the aftereffects of dealing with Mama Bayole’s minions.

  They exchanged greetings, then stood in awkward silence. Hannah felt Jacob’s gaze on her and looked at him. His expression was hard to read.

  Dad finally broke the silence. “Well, I guess we should get going.”

  They shuffled toward the door, but Hannah noticed Jacob wasn’t moving.

  “Mr. Green, Brian? Do you mind if I have a word with Hannah in private?”

  Hannah looked at her dad, a hint of unease settling in. He nodded and gave a tight-lipped smile, motioning for the others to leave the room with him. When they were gone, Jacob stood unsteadily and closed the door. He returned to his perch on the side of the bed and patted the spot next to him. Hannah joined him, more and more afraid of what was coming.

  “I’ve got to get right to it here, Hannah. This isn’t over. I know most of what happened in the clearing and that she had her house burned down. She ain’t gone. I can still feel her. That old witch... No way she’s gone that easy. Her people, well, you know.”

  “What are you trying to tell me?” Hannah asked shakily.

  “The other people, you called them followers and that’s exactly what they are. Sheep. Weak and lost and without a leader, they’re nothing. You cut the head off a snake, the snake dies. The whole thing. You get me?”

  Hannah had heard the expression before but had never really thought about it. It clicked into place now and brought all her fear back.

  “You mean we have to find her? Kill her?”

  Jacob took a wheezing breath and shifted on the bed, so he was looking at Hannah. Up close, his face looked ancient. His eyes were clear, though, and shone with wisdom.

  “One step at a time. First, we got to find her. What happens after that is up to her.”

  The ride to Jacob’s house was uncomfortable, to say the least. Hannah felt everyone’s eyes on her, felt the questions hanging in the air.

  “What did Jacob want to talk to you about? Does he know something about Mama Bayole?”

  Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to Jacob’s house and got out of the car. Hannah hadn’t realized how claustrophobic it had been until she stepped out into the fresh air.

  Jacob’s house was a tidy one-story ranch on a quiet street full of not-so-tidy one-story ranches. Well-trimmed rhododendrons and lilac bushes grew next to the house, and the small front lawn was a lush green despite the hot weather.

  Jacob invited them in, and Hannah admired the coziness of the small home. Pictures lined the walls, covering almost every square inch of space. She walked the perimeter of the living room, stopping to look at each one. There appeared to be generations of families pictured. Hannah stared at an old black-and-white photograph.

  In it, Jacob towered over a man she recognized from the newspaper picture that Dad had shown her—her great-grandfather. The two men were standing side-by-side, Jacob’s arm slung across the smaller man’s shoulders. Jacob was wearing an enormous gown and a too-small graduation cap.

  “Graduation day,” Jacob said, startling her. Hannah hadn’t noticed him come up behind her. “Proudest day of my folks’ lives, seeing me graduate high school.”

  Hannah continued circling the room, amazed at the stories captured in the photos. It was like a scrapbook on his walls, a family history.

  I have to take more pictures, she thought. Memories are too important.

  Her thoughts were disturbed when Dad called from the kitchen. Hannah blinked, surprised to find she was alone in the room.

  She joined the others in the kitchen where Jacob was stirring a giant glass pitcher of iced tea and freshly sliced lemon.

  “My mother, God rest her soul, always said there’s no better way to greet summer guests than with a fresh glass of iced tea. It’s one of her many lessons I abide by.”

  Jacob filled the glasses, and they all had a drink. The iced tea was delicious, quenching a thirst Hannah didn’t realize was there.

  “Now, I got a nice picnic table out the back, How about we set out there for a chat?”

  Everyone murmured in agreement and followed Jacob outside. The backyard was spectacular. Giant dogwoods and more rhododendrons lined the perimeter, giving the small yard privacy from the neighbors. Rosebushes and beds of flowers surrounded the cozy brick patio and a sprawling willow shaded most of the space. A picnic table took up a good part of the patio. Beside it was a compact gas grill.

  They all sat at the table while Jacob remained standing. The same unease Hannah had felt at the hospital crept over her again.

  Is he going to give everyone the same spiel? Or does he have something else to say?

  “First, I want to say I’m sorry that you all got dragged into this. This world can be a strange, sometimes ugly place. I found that out at a very young age, thanks to the old witch. I made it my mission to do as much good for people as I could. I found the love of a good woman, maybe the best woman. We had two beautiful children. We were all very faithful, devout. We went to church. We volunteered at the shelters together. We made a lovely home.” He gestured to the surrounding beauty.

  “Mother always said that God works in mysterious ways. Well, I’ll be damned if I know what He was up to when he took Marcy and the kids from me.” Jacob paused; pain etched on his face. “The driver of the other car was drunk. Crossed over the center line into their lane, hit them head on. The three of them died in the wreck.”

  Jacob paused to wipe his eyes and blow his nose on an old hankie he pulled from his pocket.

  “The guy driving the other car... Seems like it happens this way a lot... He made it. I went to see him in the hospital. He didn’t escape unharmed—he was all hooked up to tubes and wires, his head and face all bandaged up. I think he knew who I was when I walked into the room. The heart machine started beeping like an old metal detector that hit on a tin can.”

  He seemed to be growing older as he spoke. “I held up my hands and told him I didn’t mean him no harm. I just wanted to ask him one question. He looked at me, still scared, and told me to ask away. I asked him how it felt. He looked at me like he didn’t know what I meant. Right then I reconsidered my stance on not meaning him any harm.”

  Jacob let out a strangled laugh and leaned heavily on the picnic table, causing the ice in each of their drinks to rattle against the glass.

  “I clarified my question. I asked him how it felt to kill someone. He got real mad, can you imagine? He took my sweet family from me and he was mad at me? He started shouting and grabbed for the call button. But I was faster, still a young man.”

  Hannah’s stomach tightened into a hard ball and began to creep up her throat. She grabbed her iced tea, then put it back down on the table without drinking any. She didn’t like where the story was going and liked the look in Jacob’s eyes even less.

  “Well, younger than
I am now, at least. I held the call button away so he couldn’t reach it. I asked him again how it felt to kill someone. How it felt to kill children. He started breathing real heavy, panting. I thought he was going to break down. I reached out for his hand, but he yanked it away.

  “Then I asked him again, said I was going to keep asking until he gave me an answer. He looked up at me and there was no remorse in those eyes. I saw something there, something like I hadn’t seen since the clearing. It was beyond hatred, it was evil. He told me it felt good knowing there were three less black folks in the world. Only he used an uglier word.”

  Hannah gasped and heard the others muttering in disbelief. Her nausea had turned into a fist, one that was squeezing and twisting her guts. Jacob straightened and walked to the edge of the patio. Without turning, he finished the story.

  “I leaned in real close and told him I could not forgive him. Then I put my hand over his face and held it there until the light in his eyes went out.”

  Hannah watched the shocked reactions of the others. Her stomach roiled. She knew this story was meant for her, a continuation of his “head of the snake” talk.

  “Jacob, you realize I’m still a police officer?”

  Benson’s voice was low and steady, but Hannah heard a touch of mirth in it. Jacob’s expression showed his amusement.

  “Go ahead, Officer Benson, arrest me. Only thing to come of that is someone else will have to put soup in the bowls of homeless people every weekend. If it’s something you need to do, I understand.”

  Benson shook his head. “My point is you might want to keep that story to yourself.”

  Jacob nodded. “My point is, sometimes things have to be done. Bad things. Ugly things. I wish I could tell you that it was the old witch that made me do it, but it wasn’t. It was all my doing, my will. I couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done, but I have asked the Lord to forgive me. The thing is, I don’t think He can, because I’d do the same thing again.”

  Hannah watched a pair of small red birds flutter in and out of one of the dogwoods. She didn’t know why Jacob didn’t just come out and say what he meant. That he was willing to kill Mama Bayole.

  “Jacob, are you sure you’re going to be all right here?”

  Hannah realized Dad’s question might have two meanings. Did he mean was Jacob going to feel safe from Mama Bayole’s people, or was he questioning Jacob’s mental stability based on his admission?

  “I made it this far, Brian. I’ll be right as rain. Those people have no need to bother an old man. If they thought they had cause, I guess I wouldn’t be standing here. They would have killed me out on Route 33. ’Course it would have looked like an accident.” Jacob looked out over his gardens, his face haggard and sad. “No, they’ll leave me be. I’ll just tend to my plants and mind my own business.”

  Hannah watched Benson and Dad for a reaction, but they seemed satisfied. Ashley had been quiet the entire time but now she was squirming. Hannah knew Ashley had something to say, maybe a question to ask. She caught her friend’s eyes and raised her eyebrows. Ashley tightened her lips, then she spoke.

  “How are any of us really supposed to go back to our old lives? We know the librarian is one of them. We think at least one cop is. I...”

  Ashley buried her head in her arms on the table, like a kindergartner at nap time, except she was weeping. As much as Jacob and Hannah had been through, Ashley had it the worst. How could she ever feel safe? Hannah put a hand on her back and looked up at Benson and Dad.

  “The librarian is gone. The name she used and all her background information was false. Her apartment was under a different name, also fake. It’s empty. Our tech guys found keystroke loggers on all the computers at the library.” He looked at Ashley, then at me. “That’s how they intercepted the emails. Then they hacked into Susan’s email account to contact you. You’d both better change your passwords.”

  Ashley’s head snapped up, her face smeared with tears. “What about Mrs. Cheevers?”

  Hannah looked at Benson, eyes wide. She had forgotten about Mrs. Cheevers and felt like a horrible person for it.

  “Mrs. Cheevers is fine. She caught a touch of a summer cold is all. She’s back to work already.”

  Jacob snorted a laugh. “Summer cold, eh? What a coincidence.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Dad stared at him incredulously. “Jacob, you can’t possibly think—”

  Jacob cut him off with a look. “You think these are just crazy people. Zealots. They’re more than that. At least she is.”

  There was ice in Jacob’s words and it chilled Hannah. She folded her arms, waiting for Dad or Benson to respond. It occurred to her that she hadn’t told them what Susan had said about the ritual. How Mama Bayole somehow fed on the youth of her sacrifices. Did Dad and Benson even believe that Mama Bayole was the same woman Jacob saw in the clearing?

  Then Hannah saw the looks on their faces and understood what Jacob already knew—they wouldn’t believe any of it. It was easier for them to see Mama Bayole as a religious fanatic than some kind of real witch or voodoo priestess or whatever she was. To them, she’d kidnapped Ashley for a sacrifice, sure, but there was nothing supernatural about it.

  Jacob was looking at Hannah. He gave a slight nod, as if reading her thoughts. Everything fell into place. This was all for her. Her and Ashley. She tried to smile but knew it fell short. She gave Jacob a nod in return.

  “Well, I guess we should probably get going. Let Jacob get some rest.” Dad stood, looking a little confused.

  Hannah wondered if he thought Jacob was the crazy one.

  They exchanged goodbyes and Hannah felt a deep sadness, a finality. Before she left, she ran to Jacob and gave him a hug. He closed his arms around her, and Hannah felt him sigh before they separated. “It’s all going to be okay, Hannah. I promise.”

  He smiled, a real Jacob smile, and she believed him.

  They stopped for lunch in town on the way home. Hannah saw a sign in the diner advertising the next concert at Champlain Park. It was the next night. She thought about Marcus and wondered if they would still go. It seemed so unreal. Somehow, in just a matter of days, the normal and the unusual switched places. Weird was the new normal.

  Dad and Benson had a hushed conversation about Jacob’s confession. Benson said he had no intention of doing anything other than satisfying his own curiosity by checking out the report on the guy Jacob said he killed.

  Hannah still hadn’t told Ashley that Marcus had asked her to the concert. It didn’t seem like the right time now, not with Dad so close. Instead, they talked of inconsequential things like the upcoming school year and clothes and stuff that used to be casual but now seemed alien.

  During the ride home, Hannah kept catching herself looking out the windows for a late-model, dark-colored car. The new normal.

  At home, they retreated to the backyard with Scout for some privacy.

  “Ash, are you doing okay? I know it’s a stupid question, but after what you went through?”

  Ashley didn’t answer for a minute. When she turned to Hannah, her eyes were free of tears, her expression thoughtful. Closer to the old Ashley.

  “I think I’m going to be fine. Stuff like this, people adapt. But I won’t start being fine until she’s dead or locked up. You know that, right?”

  “I know,” Hannah answered, “Jacob knows, too. That’s why he pulled me aside at the hospital.” Hannah filled her in about the snake conversation. “That story he told at his house, I think it was meant for me. For us. I think he wants us to find Mama Bayole so he can kill her.”

  The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, but Hannah’s anxiety rose as evening approached. There was still no news about any of Mama Bayole’s people and no sign of Susan. Hannah feared the worst—the cult had caught her and killed her. It led her to wonder if the ritual really kept Mama Bayole alive. If so, what happened if she didn’t perform it on schedule? Would she age in fast-forward and shrivel up and die? It seemed
too Hollywood.

  Those types of thoughts were going to make for a long night.

  “I think I’m going to the concert at Champlain Park with Marcus tomorrow night.”

  The words came in a rush, like she had to get them out quick or they’d turn around and run back. Ashley stared, her mouth hanging open. A familiar heat crept up Hannah’s face. Before Ashley started teasing her—there would plenty of time for that, Hannah knew—she blurted out that he’d asked her the day they had walked home together from Champlain Park.

  “Well, well, well, I get kidnapped and you’re out getting dates instead of trying to rescue me. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Hannah Green.”

  Ashley’s eyes were bright with humor. Hannah knew her friend was happy for her, but it didn’t stop the flush from reaching her ears.

  “I figured I’d need a new best friend if you were going to be a zombie or something, so why not somebody cute?”

  Ashley giggled and began to sing, “Hannah and Marcus sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I—”

  She punched Ashley’s shoulder to shut her up, blushing profusely.

  “Ow!” Ashley rubbed her shoulder. “Hello? I just went through a traumatic event and may be scarred for life, in case you forgot.”

  “Well, you deserve it.”

  “‘Well, you deserve it,’” Ashley mimicked. “Are you going to call him? I mean, I’m happy for you, really. I just wish it didn’t take a near human sacrifice for you to get off your butt to find a boyfriend, but whatever.”

  “I’m going to call him tonight. After everything we’ve been through, calling a boy is about the least scary thing I can think of.”

  Ashley insisted that Hannah call him right then—she had to know this was for real. Hannah let Ashley lead her into the house and over to the phone.

  What am I doing?