Back at camp, Eli changed into clean clothes and gathered the dirty ones. He washed them in the creek and laid them out to dry. As he glanced at the wet clothes, it struck him that they were all men’s clothing, even the ones Ada had to wear. He wondered if it bothered her or if she even cared. Either way, he was grateful they had the extra layers for warmth.
The clothes he had taken from the cabin were for a smaller man and worked well for Ada, even though they hung on her and made her look more petite. But the clothes he had found in the canvas bag were for someone larger. Was that man still alive? Eli remembered how lifeless the man from the quarry had looked as he lay unconscious on the ground.
Right before Eli had crept up and hit him over the head with a metal bar, he watched him stuff food and clothes into the bag. The man had paused to harass Ada, and that was Eli’s chance to overtake him. He swung the bar as hard as he could, and the man dropped instantly. Eli stared at the figure on the ground, forgetting the urgency of their escape, but hearing Ada yell woke him out of his stupor. He grabbed the man’s bag, and while searching his pockets for some keys, Eli discovered the Bowie knife that now proved essential for their survival.
“Hurry!” Ada cried, peering around the cavern as tears streamed down her cheeks. He found the keys and carefully tossed them to her. While Ada reached through bars to unlock the cage separating them, he took the man’s shoes as well. Ada’s feet were bare, and she wouldn’t get far. She could manage Eli’s boots while he wore the man’s larger ones. He knew he was stealing, and it made him feel guilty, but these things would be invaluable in the difficult days ahead.
Eli didn’t like thinking about the rock quarry. Those days were not pleasant! He shook his head as if ridding himself of unwanted pests. He wanted the memories to leave him alone, so he forced his mind back to the rabbit pelt. Tomorrow he would finish tanning it and make fur-lined socks for Ada. His boots were already old before he gave them to her, but now they had holes in them. The socks would protect her feet and would be thick enough to fill the oversized boots. They would keep her feet from rubbing and prevent further blistering.
The night was growing cold and dark. Eli glance toward the lean-to. If Ada had nightmares again, he wanted to get a few hours of rest before she started screaming. He put out the fire, walked over to their shelter, and wrapped himself in one of the blankets. He pressed his back against Ada’s and savored the heat from her body. She was warm, and her rhythmic breathing was comforting. Maybe she would sleep through the night. Closing his eyes, he soon drifted into a fitful slumber.
Eli watched Ada as she poked the fire with a stick. She must be hungry! He hadn’t been able to catch any animals for two days. Nevertheless, he was determined not to disappoint her; he had a plan. As quiet as he tried to be, his footsteps gave him away, and she heard him sneaking up behind her.
“There you are,” she said as she turned around. With a proud grin, he placed the metal bowl in her lap. It was full of small, pink raspberries. The smile spreading over Ada’s face was the best thing he had seen in days. “Eli! Where did you find these? I love raspberries!” She looked at them with renewed energy. “Oh, I think they might be under-ripe,” she observed.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s probably the end of May—maybe.” Concern filled her eyes, but before she could say anything, he continued. “I found a beehive inside a tree. I put some honey on the berries to make them sweeter. We missed your birthday, Ada. I want to celebrate it today. These berries can be your birthday cake.”
He remembered her birthday the night before last, after he had hung the rabbit pelt over the creek. Seeing berry bushes while returning to camp reminded him of the year Ada’s mother had made a small raspberry tart for her. Ruth Young was an excellent baker, and the aroma filling their home that day made Eli’s mouth water. Ada had loved the tart and, to his delight, shared it with him. Because the Youngs grew them in their hothouse, raspberries were not an uncommon treat, even in early May. Eli wasn’t able to make Ada a tart, but they had the berries, and he had a gift for her.
“Do you really think it’s been that long?” she asked as her smile faded. “It was barely April when—” Her voice cut out. She tried to wipe her eyes without him noticing but failed.
“I don’t know; it might be May. It doesn’t matter, though. Right?” he said, hoping to sound indifferent. He only wanted to bring back her smile. “Here, this is for you,” he added and brought her gift out from behind his back. Earlier, he had wrapped it in a shirt and tied it with a length of vine pulled from a tree.
The gift itself wasn’t a surprise; she knew he was making socks for her. Over the past several weeks, she had watched him tan the four rabbit pelts. He then traced her feet and figured out how to shape all the pieces. He couldn’t do any of that without her knowing about them. It was the presentation of the gift, however, that became the surprise and caused Ada’s smile to return. She unwrapped her present and hugged and petted the socks, cooing over them. She put them on her feet and tested them in the boots.
“They’re perfect, Eli! Thank you.” She gave him a hug and asked if they could please eat the berries now. She wanted to hear how he got the honey from the tree without getting stung. As he told her, he showed the sting on his hand that he did get. She rubbed his hand gently and praised his heroic efforts. They carried on in this desperately needed pretend play for the rest of the birthday party. It reminded them of the normal life they yearned for.
They kept the fire stoked, and as the night sky darkened, they nibbled on sweet-tart berries and woody new-growth fern curls. They laughed and pointed out constellations they knew as well as ones they made up, telling each other stories about the starry pictures in the sky. Eventually, the fire dwindled, and their conversation slowed.
“Tomorrow we should pack up. It’s time to move on,” Eli said with a sigh.
“Okay,” she agreed. “Thank you for remembering my birthday.” Ada gathered a few items together and set them by the lean-to.
As Eli spread the embers of the fire and stamped out their glow, he watched her shake out the blankets. This was a good day, even though they didn’t have much to eat. But what about tomorrow? They needed food. They needed to be safe. They needed to find someone they could trust. Eli wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this on his own. Failing to keep Ada safe was not an option, and he realized he was going to need help. For now, they would keep going forward because he couldn’t think of anything else to do. But there was one thing he did know, one thing he felt certain about: time mattered. They couldn’t, or shouldn’t, stop moving for too long. Something was pushing Eli, filling him with an urgency that kept him moving. Forward, forward, forward. Tomorrow they would keep going forward.
MARCUS
Pastor Marcus Duncan had a routine. Every weekday after lunch, he wandered throughout the town and planned his sermons. On these strolls, he observed all the scenes around East Haven’s main street. He would watch his parishioners going about their daily activities and listen for the Holy Spirit’s guidance on his upcoming message. He wouldn’t put pen to paper until Friday, but by then his sermon had written itself. He simply needed to transcribe the thoughts in his head. It was an effective routine.
Most of the townsfolk knew this was his habit, so between the hours of one o’clock and two-thirty they limited their discourse with him to passing pleasantries. This Tuesday would have been like any other if it weren’t for David Holden, who leaned against the wall of his bank and beckoned to Marcus, claiming to have information he would want to know.
“The Colebrook house sold yesterday,” he told him, “to a couple from out of town.”
“Really? That’s great news!” Marcus said. “We haven’t had a new family move into town for a while. Who are they?”
“Well,” David began, “their name is Gardner. They’re in their early twenties, so just starting out. No children yet.” He chuckled. “You remember those days, don’t you? Long time ago! It must be an
exciting adventure to begin married life in a new town.”
“Absolutely,” Marcus agreed with a nod. “But I wouldn’t want to make a change like that. At least not now, not at my age. It was easier to take risks back then, wasn’t it? Can you remember that long ago, friend?” Marcus winked as David rubbed his thinning hair. “And what brings the Gardners to East Haven? Do they have friends or family here?”
“No,” David said. “East Haven was the third town they visited. They didn’t find what they were looking for elsewhere.” He grabbed the lapels of his jacket proudly. “They fell in love with the Colebrook house and agreed to buy it on the spot. I think they’re from Bradford, or maybe the outskirts.”
“Bradford? You have a friend from that town, don’t you?” Marcus asked.
“Harold Ross,” David said with a nod. “He owns the bank, as a matter of fact. He’s an honest man and quite organized.” David chuckled as he spoke of his colleague. “If I know Harold, he’ll have very detailed records regarding Mr. Gardner’s account. That will make my paperwork easier, so I’m grateful for it. The Gardners will return a week from Thursday to pick up their house key. I believe you’ll like them, Marcus; they’re an agreeable couple—and humble.” He paused for a moment. “But you might find them a bit different.”
“Different?” Marcus asked, somewhat intrigued. “What do you mean?”
David laughed. “Oh, just something about their style and demeanor. I got the impression they may have lived a more eccentric life than one usually finds in a small town. Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be good for us.”
“Hmm,” Marcus said with a slow nod. David was correct; the town could benefit from some variety. But as pastor, he would be the one dealing with the gossip, not to mention all the honest Christian concern if the Gardners strayed too far from convention. “You said they’ll move in next Thursday?”
“Yes, and I thought it might be nice to have some townsfolk clean the house before they arrive. It’s been vacant for several years and could use some attention. Do you think your wife would be willing to head up that project?” David asked.
“Grace? Definitely. I’ll talk to her about it this evening. She could ask Hannah Weber to help. I’m sure Hannah would see the opportunity as an excellent way to welcome her new neighbors.”
“Perfect! Thank you, Marcus.” David clasped his shoulder. “I’ll unlock the house next Wednesday. That should be enough time to give it a good wipe-down. Speaking of neighbors, here comes Mrs. Russell.” He indicated the widow’s approach with an almost indiscernible nod. Marcus turned and saw Evelyn walking briskly toward them, her jaw set with determination.
“Mr. Holden? Mr. Holden! I am so glad I caught you. Oh, hello Pastor Duncan.” She nodded at the two men. “Mr. Holden, please tell me about the couple who was with you yesterday. I am so anxious to know everything! Mr. Holden, please tell me! Will they be moving into the Colebrook house?”
“Mrs. Russell, you are going to have to start referring to the old Colebrook house as the new Gardner house,” David said with a wink.
Evelyn shook her fists in triumph. “Thank the Lord,” she exclaimed. “That house has been empty for far too long!”
“David,” Marcus said, inspired by a new thought. “Why don’t I talk to Grace about having a warm supper waiting for them next Thursday? I’m sure they’ll be tired from their travels and would appreciate not having to cook their own meal.” David nodded his agreement.
“They’re moving in next Thursday?” Evelyn asked. “So soon! Supper is an excellent idea, Pastor! I will make dessert for them. The Gardners, you say? What sort of name is that? I imagine they must work the land.” Evelyn chuckled at her own joke. “Well, one can only hope! Seeing some colorful flowers in their yard would improve my view, I should think. So then, a simple cake. That is a most sensible, everyday dessert—not too fancy nor too sweet. It will be just the thing for these Gardners.” Evelyn readjusted the shawl around her shoulders. “Now, Mr. Holden, what can you tell me about them?”
“They seem young and pleasant, Mrs. Russell. I’m sure they will be good neighbors.”
“Young! Well, I could see that from my kitchen. But where did they come from? What type of families do they have? What are their manners like? Are they well brought up and educated? Teachable? Surely, even Pastor Duncan would appreciate knowing that! Come now, are they Christians? Oh, please tell me they aren’t heathens from the west! What a shame that would be. How troublesome it is to avoid questionable neighbors!”
“I didn’t have a chance to get any of that information,” David admitted as he glanced sideways at Marcus. “I’m sorry to say, but the business at hand yesterday was mostly about the house.”
“You know, Mrs. Russell,” Marcus added, “those of different faiths still need to see Christ’s love and charity in their neighbors.”
“Yes, yes, of course! All heathens need to hear about Christ, and we must pray diligently for their souls. But sometimes, no matter how hard we pray, a bad apple is just that. You know what they say about a bad apple in a barrel of good apples. Well, it is just as true with a bad soul! Spiritual rot can spread like a disease.” The pious old widow sniffed as she lifted her chin a touch higher. “We Christians can’t be too careful! Mr. Holden, are you truly going to make me find out about these people all by myself?” She stared at the banker, waiting to hear more. David probably knew what the inquisitive woman wanted to know; nevertheless, he only nodded. “Come now, are they as poor and green as they look?” she finally asked. “You must know something that will give me an idea about the kind of neighbors I’m getting.”
“Mrs. Russell, I can’t tell you anything about their finances,” David said, tilting his head. “But their age would imply they are newlyweds. And I believe they’ve been living in Bradford. Anything more, we will all have to find out in good time.”
“Humph, apparently!” she said with a resigned sigh. “Well, I had better go to Johnson’s Mercantile and get sugar for the cake. Good day, Mr. Holden! Pastor, please tell your wife I will bake a cake to go with the supper she prepares for the Gardners. Just a simple, unfrosted cake. I would hate to make that poor young wife feel intimidated. We wouldn’t want to give the impression that the people of East Haven are too extravagant.”
With another nod, she marched toward the general store, calling out to Agnes Miller who was passing by. Evelyn asked if she had heard the news: the Colebrook house had finally been rented! She beseeched Agnes to please pray that the young couple were not heathens!
“Rented?” Marcus asked as he glanced at his friend. “I thought they bought the house.”
David nodded his head. “They did,” he confirmed.
Marcus watched the woman cross the street toward Mrs. Miller and the mercantile. With Evelyn on the job, all of East Haven would soon know everything she might imagine about the town’s new inhabitants. “Perhaps it would be an ideal week to give a sermon on loving our neighbors,” Marcus said.
“Yes,” David agreed with a laugh. “That would be ideal. Thank you again for talking with Grace. I better let you get back to your sermon planning.” He shook Marcus’ hand and walked into the bank, continuing to chuckle under his breath.
Marcus pulled a pocket watch out of his vest and looked at the blued hands. A quarter to three already! He turned toward his office and decided to skip his afternoon walk for the rest of the week. This would require him to write his sermon while hiding behind his desk, which rarely fostered creativity, but neither did an overly talkative town. At least he had a topic. Marcus took in a deep breath and enjoyed the sweet smell of spring rain turning into fresh summer flowers. As he walked to the church, the Holy Spirit guided his mind back to his sermon.
ELI
Eli lay on his stomach, propping himself up with his elbows as he peered at the town below. Ada was next to him, her head resting in the crook of her arm. She had fallen asleep several minutes ago. He glanced at her, trying to decide which he felt more: th
e longing to be as deeply asleep as she was or the excitement of what the next day would bring. Nervous excitement had won over exhaustion for the moment. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.
They had spent the entire day watching this town, trying to determine if it was a good place to execute Eli’s plan. Observing the town wasn’t particularly thrilling, but the idea of going into those streets was making it hard for him to sit still. Fortunately, they had several things going in their favor considering their covert needs at present.
It was most likely early summer. Eli had noticed the days getting longer, and the nights were not quite as frigid as they had been. With summer setting in, the rainy days were beginning to spread further apart, and the ground didn’t stay wet for long. This allowed them to keep low to the ground. They could watch the comings and goings of the town in relatively dry comfort. Their clothes, which were made up of drab browns and greys, camouflaged them well, and the hill provided a decent vantage point. They could spy on the town without being seen, and the forest was immediately behind them in case they needed to make a hasty retreat.
For several days, Eli had been aware that they were coming to the end of the big wilderness in which they were hiding. At first, they stumbled upon small farms with fields of young wheat or corn backed up against the edge of the woods. They were able to skirt around their boundaries, and then the trees would stretch out before them again, making it possible to continue moving toward the unknown destination that tugged at Eli.
After the farms, small clusters of homes accompanied by a shop or two began to appear. These little communities were easy enough to circumvent, but larger towns soon sprung up, making it difficult to move forward without being seen.
Sure enough, the landscape had changed. Towns were now the prominent feature with modest areas of wooded land separating them. Eli had suggested they travel these parts only at night; he could guide Ada through the streets, aided by moonlight when the skies were clear or with a candle on cloud covered evenings. This mode of travel was slow, however, and he felt anxious about their pace. Whenever they came to the woods again, he would push on and only allow for short rests until they reached the next town.
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