by Tom Deady
Dad and Benson were in the kitchen stacking a plate with burgers and dogs, about to head out to the grill. As soon as they did, Ash grabbed the phone and handed it to her.
Hannah looked up the number and dialed before she lost her nerve. As soon as Ashley was sure she was going through with it, she left the kitchen, though Hannah was positive she was going to listen from around the corner.
Hannah listened to the ringing, her body tensing up. She considered hanging up but knew caller ID would give her away even on a missed call.
“Hello?”
It was Marcus. At least she didn’t have to blunder her way through asking a parent or sibling to talk to him. She wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts one at a time.
“Hi, uh, Marcus? It’s Hannah. Hannah Green.”
“Oh, hi Hannah. I was going to call you but I heard...”
Hannah cringed. She hadn’t bothered to pay any attention to what the news reports were saying happened. What had he heard? Hannah wasn’t sure what to say.
“I heard some pretty weird stuff. Are you okay? And Ashley?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it’s been a rough few days.”
Hannah waited, desperate for something to say to fill the awkward silence.
Marcus spoke first. “Oh crap, the concert is tomorrow night. We... I... Do you still want to go?”
Hannah almost dropped the phone. This was going to be an actual date. Hannah started thinking about what to wear when she realized she hadn’t answered.
“Oh, I mean, yes. I do want to go.”
Dummy, way to sound overanxious.
“Oh, that’s great. So, do you want me to pick you up? I mean, not me. Well, I’ll be there but I won’t be driving...”
Hannah smiled and suppressed a giggle. Knowing Marcus was this nervous had a calming effect on her.
“I can have my dad drive me. We can meet there, if that’s okay?”
“Sure. Hey, I know Ashley is staying with you, so, if you want, I could see if Ken wants to come so Ashley won’t feel like a third wheel.”
Hannah felt like she was in one of those cartoons where hearts floated out of a character’s head. Marcus’s shyness was endearing. She was glad he wasn’t some super-slick smooth talker.
“That’s really sweet of you to think of Ashley. It would be cool if she came with us, if Ken wants to go too.”
Ashley popped her head around the corner and gave her a thumbs-up, then made kissy faces at her. Hannah flipped her the bird, then turned around and talked to Marcus about where and when to meet. They chatted for a few minutes longer, just small talk, then hung up.
Ashley ran around the corner and practically tackled her. She was bouncing up and down with her hands-on Hannah’s shoulders, chanting, “Hannah’s got a boyfriend!” when Dad and Benson walked in.
Benson looked amused while Dad looked somewhere between “about to throw up” and “having a heart attack.” Ashley wasted no time in taking control.
“Mr. Green, your daughter, Hannah, will need a ride to Champlain Park on the morrow evening to meet a Mr. Marcus Diaz for a concert and some potential lip-to-lip contact.” Her British accent was passable.
Hannah gasped and swatted her while Benson burst out laughing. Dad looked a lot closer to “about to throw up.”
“Never fear, Mr. Green, for I, Ashley Wallace, shall be there to chaperone and make sure the proper etiquette and decorum is upheld.”
Benson almost dropped the plate of food he was holding, he was laughing so hard. Hannah wasn’t sure if it was Ashley’s antics or Dad’s expression. Despite her embarrassment, Hannah was laughing right along.
Dinner was a mixture of laughter and cross-examination from Dad about this Marcus character. They stayed at the kitchen table long after they had finished eating. The girls drank lemonade, the men beers, while they talked.
Dad was the one to break it up, saying he wanted to watch the ballgame. He and Benson moved to the living room while Hannah and Ashley went to her bedroom for what Dad called girl talk.
Hannah drifted off to sleep that night feeling the tide of normal and unusual beginning to revert. She was safe and content. More than content, she was happy. The shadow of Mama Bayole still hung over her, but it was less ominous, at least for the night.
Other than the fact that a suspended police officer was having sleepovers, Hannah was happy for Dad to have some adult time.
Is that what it is? She’d been watching Dad and Benson and wasn’t sure. Another mystery.
Her dreams were of summer nights and concerts and Marcus’s hand in hers.
The sound of raindrops woke Hannah and she rolled over to stare out the window. The sky was gray and so turned Hannah’s mood. She watched the raindrops zigzag down the window, willing the rain to stop so the concert wouldn’t be canceled.
“Let’s go grab breakfast, I’m hungry.”
She turned to face Ashley, unable to hide her glum mood.
“Even if the concert gets rained out, he still likes you, Hannah. Cheer up. Let’s go get cereal. I need my sugar fix.”
Hannah crawled out of bed, finally able to move like a teenager instead of an old lady. She raised her arms over her head, then bent down to touch her toes, checking if anything still hurt. A few twinges but pretty much back to normal.
“Going for a run?” Ashley asked, one eyebrow raised.
“No, still recovering from dragging your sorry ass out of the New Hampshire woods the other night.”
Ashley punched her shoulder and pushed past her, headed toward the kitchen. She went to the cabinet and grabbed a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a bowl.
“You know that crap has like ten cups of sugar in it?” Benson said, getting up off the couch.
Ashley didn’t even turn around. “Of course, I know. That’s the reason I’m going to eat the rest of the box, to save you from working on your spare tire.”
Hannah snorted a laugh. Ashley’s back, all right. She mused at how comfortable they all were together, especially with Benson, who had been a complete stranger just a few days earlier.
The thought sent a pang of unease through her. What do we really know about him?
“What’s all the commotion?” Dad shuffled out of his room, hair askew and face puffy with sleep.
Hannah wondered how late they’d stayed up watching the game. She glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was only seven-thirty. Ashley and Hannah never got up this early, except for school.
“Well, Ashley was just calling me fat,” Benson said in a mock pouty voice.
“Sounds about right,” Dad muttered, and went for the coffeemaker. “Hey, it’s raining.”
Dad was looking out the window over the sink.
“Thanks for the news flash, Dad.” Hannah couldn’t stop thinking about the concert.
“Oh, don’t mind her, Mr. Green. She’s just upset that her date might get rained out.”
Hannah pivoted and glared at Ashley. She sometimes pushed things too far. She turned to read Dad’s expression. He seemed surprised for a second, like he had forgotten last night’s conversation. Then he just looked sad.
“I guess staying up all night doing the rain dance paid off,” he said it without a smile, without any humor.
Hannah felt bad. She knew Dad was thinking she was growing up too fast. The parents’ lament, Ashley called it. The thought of him living here alone one day, after she went off to college did nothing to lift Hannah’s already damp spirits.
Dad was still at the sink, filling the coffeepot with water to pour into the coffeemaker. “What the—”
He dropped the pot in the sink and ran toward the back door. Benson leaped to his feet, pulling a gun from nowhere and yelling at her and Ash to stay put, before following Dad out the back door.
Ashley and Hannah almost collided trying to get to the window. It took her a minute to register what she was seeing. It took another minute for Hannah to believe it.
“We’re gonna need a bigger boat.” She felt A
shley staring and turned to her, the first smile of the day crossing Hannah’s face. “Ash, meet Susan.”
They watched as Dad and Benson approached the woman. Susan threw her head back, opened her mouth wide, and screamed. It was a real horror-movie job, shrill and piercing and filled with panic. Dad and Benson stopped, hands in front of them in the classic “we mean you no harm” position. Susan took a step back, shaking her head from side to side. Her clothes were a mess, torn and muddy, and her hair hung in greasy clumps, but it was her face that scared Hannah. She was terrified, probably in shock.
Dad and Benson kept talking to her, slowly approaching. Finally, Susan nodded, and they went to her side. They each put one of her arms over their shoulders.
Hannah filled the coffeemaker and started the brew cycle, then went to Dad’s room to get one of his sweatshirts and a couple of blankets. As soon as they made it to the porch, Hannah ran to them and gave Susan a hug, ignoring her soaking, mud-covered clothes. The woman’s skin was like a cold slab of meat.
“Susan, here, put this on.” Hannah helped her with the sweatshirt, then wrapped the blanket around her. Ashley was by her side, and together they guided Susan to the couch. Scout was running under their feet, sniffing like crazy.
Hannah started to get up to fetch her a cup of coffee, but Susan gripped her arm. Hannah looked at Ashley and motioned toward the kitchen. Ash went to grab the coffee.
“Susan, it’s all right. You’re safe now. Thank God.”
Susan didn’t respond, just sat there clinging to Hannah’s arm. She looked like an extra from The Walking Dead. Her hair hung in strings, wet and dirty. Her clothes were torn and her face emaciated. Her eyes were haunted, worse than before.
Ashley returned holding a steaming mug of coffee. “I put cream and sugar in it... I wasn’t sure...”
She held the mug out, nodding at Susan to take it. Susan looked at Ashley, looked at the coffee, then looked back at Hannah.
“Is she dead?” Susan’s voice was flat, monotone. A voice reserved for narrators in the history documentaries Hannah had suffered through in junior high.
Dad and Benson were nowhere in sight, giving Susan some space.
Hannah tried to smile. She shook her head, unable to meet Susan’s eyes.
Susan made a noise that sounded like an animal whimpering, then began to shake. She bumped Ashley’s hand and hot coffee splashed on the three of them. Susan shrank into the corner of the couch, shaking and whining, not even crying.
Hannah looked down at her arms and saw the bleeding scratches where Susan had held her. Dad and Benson appeared, and Benson took charge. He knelt in front of Susan and tried to take her hand, but she pulled away with another strange animal-like sound.
“Listen, Susan. You’ve been through a lot, but I promise you, you’re safe now. I think we need to get you to the hospital.”
Susan let out a long keening sound and her shaking got worse. She began to swing her head back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster with more and more force.
“Okay, no hospital. What if we brought a doctor here, just to make sure you’re not injured?” Benson countered.
Mercifully, Susan stopped the head thing, but she was still trembling uncontrollably, and she was making a low moaning noise.
“Susan, please, we’re here to help. We are not going to let anything happen to you. We just want to make sure you’re not dehydrated or anything like that. Do you have a doctor that you trust? We could call them and get them to make a special visit.”
Hannah watched Susan’s lack of response and felt her own anxiety growing. At some point, Ashley had taken Hannah’s hand and was squeezing it too hard. It occurred to Hannah that if Ashley wasn’t the person she was, she could have ended up like this. By the feel of Ashley’s grip, she was thinking the same thing.
Benson was still talking softly, telling Susan over and over that it was going to be okay, she was safe. Susan was non-responsive.
A sudden thought, an idea, hit Hannah. She pulled away from Ashley and bent down to face Susan.
“Wait here. Don’t move.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how dumb they sounded. Hannah bolted for her room and dug through the pockets of the shorts she had worn the day before. With a grunt of satisfaction, she ran back to the living room and practically pushed Benson out of the way.
Without a word, she knelt in front of Susan and opened her hand, letting the locket dangle in front of her face.
Susan’s eyes widened and the shaking started to subside. She looked at Hannah, her expression unreadable. Then she reached tentatively for the locket, as if she was afraid it was a mirage.
Susan took the locket and raised it to her face. She clicked it open and gasped, the hint of a smile touching the corners of her mouth.
“Thank you,” she whispered, hugging Hannah.
Benson convinced Susan to let a doctor come to the house. It was someone who Benson had helped out of a jam once. The doctor owed him a favor, and Benson trusted him completely.
Right after lunch, the living room became a makeshift exam room. It didn’t take long, and the diagnosis was fluids and rest. She also had a burn on her leg that the doctor recommended some ointment for. He wrote a prescription for Ativan in case she continued to experience anxiety. He also advised therapy despite not knowing the real story. Benson told the doctor that Susan had gotten lost hiking in the woods. The doc looked skeptical but didn’t question Benson on it.
Once the doctor left, Dad drove to town to get the prescription filled. The rain had slowed to a drizzle and Hannah still had hopes that the concert would go on. She couldn’t help looking out the window every few minutes, waiting for the clouds to part and the blue sky to appear.
Benson grabbed a kitchen chair and set it close to the couch, where Susan was stretched out.
“Susan, are you able to tell us anything that happened that night in the clearing? Anything, no matter how small or unimportant it seems might give us a clue to where Mama Bayole is or who her other followers are.”
Susan didn’t respond. Other than blinking, she didn’t move. Benson continued.
“We know from what Hannah told us, the two of you split up. She saw Mama Bayole turn in your direction just as the fire started. We know you set the fire as a diversion to help save Ashley. That was a great idea, and it worked.”
Hannah watched their interaction carefully, her gaze bouncing between Susan and Benson. She thought she saw a shadow of a frown cross Susan’s face. Hannah wondered if it was because of the tone he was using, like she was a child, or stupid. Ashley must have picked up on it as well because she spoke next.
“I never got a chance to thank you, Susan. What you did was amazing. I mean, I was out of it for the whole thing, but Hannah told me. You saved my life. You’re a hero.”
Again, Hannah watched Susan for a reaction and thought her face hardened when Ashley said hero. It was Hannah’s turn to try.
“Susan, I know this is hard, but when you were part of it, were you ever allowed to see the others outside of the clearing, without the robes and hoods?”
At this, Susan slid her eyes shut. She looked for a moment like she was dozing off, then her eyes squeezed tighter, as if she was trying to block out something. Finally, she shook her head and then turned to face them.
“No. Mama Bayole was the only one whose face I ever saw. The other night in the clearing, when she saw me, she knew me.” Susan closed her eyes again before continuing. “I never felt like I did at that moment. It was like she was looking through me or examining me somehow, violating me with just a look.” Susan shivered under the blanket. “I don’t know if I was just too scared to move, or if she did something to me.”
Hannah again remembered the day at Mama Bayole’s house and how powerless and out of it she’d felt. If Scout hadn’t barked and snapped her out of it...
“The flames were already getting hot around me. The fire spread so quickly. I saw some of the fol
lowers start to move in my direction but all I could focus on were her eyes...”
Susan’s head snapped at the sound of an approaching car. Benson jumped to his feet, hand moving automatically to his gun.
“It’s okay. It’s Brian.” Benson said.
Dad walked in a minute later to find everyone staring at him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle anyone. Susan, I have the pills the doctor prescribed. Do you want to take one now, or are you doing okay?”
Susan looked scared again. Hannah surmised she was afraid to be drugged, to not be in control. If she thought that way she’d never sleep again.
“It’s okay, Susan,” Hannah said. “We’re not leaving you alone and you do need to get some rest. We can talk later.”
Susan forced a nervous smile. “Thanks, Hannah. Maybe just a half, Brian?”
Dad smiled. “Sure, I’ll go cut one in half and get you some juice.” He hustled back a moment later with a glass of orange juice and the pill. “Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else.”
Susan continued. “Anyway, I was saying, I couldn’t pull myself away even though I saw them coming toward me. I mean, I knew I was in danger, but I couldn’t move. Then the flames got closer, singeing my leg, and I... kind of woke up, I guess. I turned and ran, and just kept running.”
Hannah wanted to ask if Susan thought Mama Bayole had some kind of powers, but she was too afraid. Not to ask, but to hear the answer.
“Is there anything else you can think of that might help? The sound of a voice, the mannerisms or movements of one of the followers?” Benson kept his voice low, soothing, but Hannah detected an underlying sense of urgency. They needed something to go on.
The question jarred Hannah. She recalled thinking that something about one of the robed figures was familiar, but it had already faded like a bad dream. She turned her attention back to Susan and saw the fierce concentration on the woman’s face. Then Susan sighed, shrugged, and shook her head.
“A couple of the voices sounded familiar. What I mean is, they sounded like people who were followers when I was involved. I know that doesn’t help.”
Benson continued questioning Susan, gently probing her, trying to help bring more memories to the surface. After thirty minutes, he’d gotten nothing useful out of her.
