by Trinity Crow
It was easier to show than explain so I unlocked the door and we all trooped back in to show the officers the cistern where flashlight had fallen, where I found the flashlight and where the case of water had been.
“This isn't a cistern,” Officer Jackson said as he bent over the opening. “It's actually built over a spring.” Burton frowned and squeezed in the small space to shine his flashlights in as well.
“Well I'll be. . .” he trailed off. “I think you're right. Shouldn't that affect the foundations? That's the damndest thing I've ever seen." Abruptly, he cleared his throat and shot us a look over his shoulder.
“Pardon my language,” he said uncomfortably.
Cassie laughed. “We won't tell anyone you were unprofessional,” she told him. He rolled his eyes at her cheeky grin and then bent to look back into the well.
“This thing is pretty deep,” he said, puzzled. “How could anyone get a flashlight out of here? I can't even see a bottom.”
“Magnet could work,” Jackson commented. “A strong magnet on a long stick?”
“Okay, yeah," Burton said impatiently. “Obviously, there are ways, but who would come here prepared for that sort of thing?”
“Never mind that!” Nikki retorted. “How would anyone know the flashlight was in there, except for us four?”
The officers paused and then turned around and stared at us.
“Very true, young lady?” Officer Burton said coolly. “Is there anything else that you want to tell us?”
“Like what?” Nikki said, sounding insulted. “That I did it? Give me a break. And the three of them can tell you there's no possible way I could have dredged up the flashlight. I was with them the entire time.”
“That's right,” Adam said. “We were all together except for when Abby walked into the kitchen.”
Now everyone was avoiding my eyes. Everyone except the officers. My face flushed red.
“You think I got out the flashlight and made all this up?” The words sounded guilty even to me.
“Why?”I said desperately. “What possible motive what I have for that? “
“Attention,” Officer Burton said smoothly.
“The last thing I want,” I told him evenly, “is attention.”
“And is there a reason you're so eager to avoid attention?” His eyes sharpened with interest.
Nikki stepped in front of me, folding arms across her chest. “What is with you?” she said. “First, you accuse her being in attention seeker and then you're practically saying she's a criminal hiding out. Listen, someone got that flashlight out the well and somebody jacked the entire case of water. And it wasn't Abby! Now if you want to be helpful, then you can search the house. We've done it once, but it can't hurt to do it again.”
“All right,” Officer Burton told the simmering Nikki as he got to his feet. “We'll do that. The four of you either go sit on the porch or in that front room. We'll start here and work our way upstairs. “
Fine,” Nikki said, chin high and she stomped off to the front room, leaving us to follow.
It was not until the officers were busy upstairs and Cassie and Adam were fussing over something that Nikki turned me and said urgently, “I really need to talk to you alone.”
I looked around, wondering what excuse we could make, but she shook her head.
“Not now,” she said. “Maybe we'll get a chance when we're in town. But it's important.”
The officers made quick work searching the house. As Nikki put it, almost as if they were just humoring us. They left without further incident, telling me they would keep in touch.
“You know what?” Cassie said as we all climbed into the car and Adam switched the air conditioning on. “This will be great stuff to talk about if you're on Finn's haunted tour. Have you given that anymore thought?”
“I really haven't,” I told her. “I haven't even had the chance to read the packet he gave me. I expect my first couple of weeks will be too busy for me to think about it, but I can't say that I would be against getting some income.”
"I though you were against the attention," Nikki remarked curiously.
"I was," I replied. "But I've changed my mind. Maybe the more attention I get, the safer I'll be. And having money is part of that safety."
“Yeah,” Adam said. “You're definitely going to need a car living way out there.”
“I'll have to learn how to drive first,” I told him quietly.
“You can't drive!” Cassie said incredulously and then clapped her mouth shut. “I mean. . . uh, I can teach you how to drive.”
Officer Jackson had said the same thing about me getting a car. In fact, both officers had expressed concern that Nikki and I were out there without transportation and unreliable cell service. But we weren't helpless, I told myself, remembering our trek across the roof. Nikki may be quiet, but she had a spirit like a bulldog. And I was finally discovering the same strengths inside myself.
***
Being in town turned out to be exhausting. I wasn't used to so many unfamiliar people and so much noise. It wasn't exactly the number of people that was distressing, but all of them so caught up in their own concerns. Every one of them so free with their movements, their clothing and their speech. The life I had lived for the past nine years, had been calm, ordered and structured. We lived to serve God and our small community. All of our time was assigned and all of our choices guided by rules. There was something unsettling, something tiring about all the choices now available to me.
And there was so many things I needed. Food, of course, was a priority and then more clothing. I had left the New Eden Fellowship with only the clothes I was wearing, my birth certificate, social security card and the money I had stolen. Though I had acquired a couple of more skirts and blouses in the two weeks since I ran, I wanted a wardrobe that would help me blend in. Nikki and Cassie helped me choose a few things at the thrift store we found tucked away off of the Main Street, but I quickly became overwhelmed. I paid reluctantly for the shorts and jeans they insisted on. The thought of wearing something so revealing was almost frightening.
Our last stop was the hardware store and Lisa, the friendly clerk, helped me sign up for a discount the store was offering to raffle winners. She found the pipes I would need for the wood stove and walked me through the process of replacing them. Adam's face expressed his doubt but Lisa seemed confident that I could manage. After that, I was ready to go home again. No matter how strange Rickrack House was, it was quiet and I could shut the world out and be still. Adam, however, had other ideas. He insisted on buying dinner again, overriding my protest.
“I'm not kidding,” he said, laughing. “Free rent for a year? I just saved like eight or nine thousand dollars. And I'm hungry,” he added.
The last bit came out a bit whiny. So, I smiled and nodded. How could I say no when they were being kind enough to give me a ride?
The little Mexican restaurant he took us to was filled with a heady aroma of spices, grilled meats and the bright, citrus scent of limes. Adam ordered several sampler platters that we all shared. Laughter and talk made the cozy, corner table feel like our own little world and the delicious food erased any lingering unease.
From the first bite, the flavors exploded in my mouth like nothing I had ever tasted before.
“Seriously?” Nikki said, her eyes wide. “You've never had Mexican food before.”
I shook my head, chewing my latest bite with pleasure.
“But you plan on having it again,” Cassie said knowingly, flashing me a smile.
I nodded enthusiastically, still chewing, and they all laughed.
“It's so good,” I said finally. “I never even knew food could taste like this. How are you all not fat? I'm gonna be so fat.” I sighed happily.
The three of them gaped at me and then burst out laughing.
“Whatever,” I told them, shrugging as I reached to spike another forkful. “You know this is worth it."
Nikki's eyes were bri
ght with amusement. “I can teach you how to cook it,” she said. “I mean I'm not Mexican, but I have relatives who are."
"You're not Mexican?" Cassie said in disbelief. "With a name like Hernandez? I mean you look Mexican.”
“Good one, sis." Adam rolled his eyes.
“No offense,” she said quickly, her face turning pink.
“Why would I be offended that I look Mexican?” Nikki shook her head. “Technically, Mexicans are European Spanish and Native Americans born in the Mexican region. Which we are. I mean, my family is Caddo Indian and Castilian Spanish, but we were here when Texas was part of Mexico. Now Texas is part of the United States. Our family has never been to Mexico." Nikki shrugged. “We have no ties to current day Mexico. So. . .not Mexican.”
“We're Scots-Irish,” Cassie said helpfully.
Nikki tore off a piece of tortilla to sop up some sauce. “I'm just American,” she said.
I followed this with astonishment and no small amount of envy. I had no idea where my family came from. The first time I had seen my father's name was on the birth certificate I had uncovered in my mother's private things, surrendered after she joined New Eden. I did not know if he was still alive or if he was, would he even want anything to do with me.
After dinner, we drove back to the house and the Camplings helped Nikki and I cart our purchases in. They left with repeated admonishments for us to call if we needed anything.
“We will be packing all week and and then have classes on Monday,” Cassie said. "It could be a few days before we're back.”
“It's fine,” I told her, standing still for the hugs she insisted on. “The officers will be out here tomorrow to search the back of the property.”
Cassie shuddered. “Ewww. I hope they don't find anything. I mean, let's hope they just moved to Canada or something.”
“That would be nice,” I said, unsmiling. “I've had enough surprises.”
“Well, maybe the next one will be awesome,” she said, climbing in the car.
Somehow I doubted that would be the case.
***
It was nice to have my own room. Nikki had insisted she didn't really need any decorations, but I felt bad about how empty her room was.
“Beats being homeless,” she told me, with a smile and a shrug.
We used the throws that had been draped over the front room couches as bedding. I promised myself that I was going to do some kind of wash tomorrow on the few sheets and blankets in the house. Blowing out the candle beside the bed, I rolled over to watch the light streaming in the bare windows.
It was only my second night, I consoled myself as I thought of all that still needed to be done. I needed a good week to make a real difference. Nikki called good night from the next room. Her voice had a hollow sound and it sounded lonely in the echoing house.
“Good night,” I called back and within minutes, I was asleep but I found no rest in my dreams.
I dreamed of the spiral. The white stones shining under the moonlight. Mr. Hansen and his wife circling round and round, their faces drugged and slack. From the shadows, that unknown presence watched. . .and waited.
Chapter 17
Just before daylight broke through the window, my eyes flew open. The bright aura of the room surrounded me with a feeling of protection and safety. I took a deep breath and another. Gone were the shadows of the night and I cradled this new feeling of home and safety to my heart. I slipped out of bed, quietly, wanting some time to myself. The cool, grey of early morning had long been a time of peace and beauty to me.
After dressing quickly, I braided my hair to keep it out the way. The long curly strands twined reluctantly around my hands, refusing to be tamed. How I envied Nikki's straight, silky mane.
Out on the back porch, I centered the small tabletop grill that Nikki had found in the thrift store bin on a base of cinder blocks. The missing handles and cover did not matter to me. In no time, a small fire, made from the collection of twigs and broken pieces of boards stacked near the back steps, was burning cheerfully.
The next step was water. I stood for a moment, feet bare on the cool wood of the kitchen floor. Nikki had purchased more bottled water in town but the plastic, chemical taste had made me more thirsty, rather than less. The cool water of the cistern beckoned me.
Why shouldn't I drink it? I had the first day, with no ill effects. I wasn't going to let Adam or some city official ruin what I loved most about this house. . .that feeling of security, that all my needs could be met here, food, water, shelter. And if I grew the right plants or tended the right livestock, I could even make my own clothes.
Mind made up, I moved through the pantry into the cool room and knelt down at the dark opening to the well. Hesitantly, I stared at the battered, metal pot, feeling uncomfortable about dipping the ugly object into the serene water. As I sat back on my heels, thinking what would be the best to use, my shoulder knocked into something hanging in the shadow of the shelf. My questing hand circled found a smooth handle hanging by a leather thong, sinewy and dry with age.
I pulled it forward into the light to see this new treasure. A long-handled dipping gourd, first hollowed and dried for use and then carved with expert skill, rested in my hands. My fingers traced the carvings of leaves and twining vines, noting tiny details of birds and curious, antlered beasts. It was almost too pretty to use. But, I reasoned with myself, it had been left here for this very purpose. No, not left. Grown, created and adorned. That was time, energy and skill, all spent on this object and its intent,
It was fitting that I should use the gourd.
The natural rightness to my decision caused a sense of peace to flow over me. My fingers curled around the handle, worn and comfortable in my grip. I leaned slightly, adjusting my position so I sat on my heels. It struck me that women must have done this for millennia, long before deep wells, bucket and windlass. Crouched before pond, stream or river, all the women who had come before me knew this ritual. Without water, there was no life.
The gourd broke the surface of the still water and for an instant, I thought I saw a glimmer of blue streak across the ripples, a dancing light that came from below.
Smiling at my fancy, I lifted the full gourd to pour it into my waiting vessel. The round bowl of the gourd made it necessary to lift the dipper high and stream the water in. The clear sheet of liquid life flowed down into the bowl, the rippling sounding musical and bright. My eyes followed its path, watching the light strike the wavering pane and take on colors, both bright and shadowed, from the room beyond. At New Eden, we had sung hymns while working. None of those seemed appropriate here, but nonetheless, a hum rose in my throat. It was a simple melody but somehoe captured the life-giving nature of the water and the glory of the new morning that was breaking around me.
My bowl filled, I rose and made my way out to the kitchen. I closed the cool room door behind me, wishing I had a way to cover the spring. The quiet act of dipping water for my daily needs had resonated deep inside me and it felt it right to protect such a sacred resource.
The back step made a perfect spot to sit and sip a cup of tea as the day woke up across this land of mine. Mine. The thought still dazzled me.
I stepped down into the garden, looking at the new leaves of mint unfurling by the path, breathing in their crisp smell. As I walked, the edge of my skirt darkened as it grew damp from the heavy dew that had fallen. All the world seemed hushed and waiting for me.
A rustle in the brush near the shed alerted me to a visitor, but no sense of alarm flared within me. The narrow muzzle of a fox parted the bushes and two, sharp eyes regarded me curiously. His wet, black nose flared slightly as he took in my scent. When he stepped clear of the brush, my breath caught. To have this wild creature so close and so unafraid was humbling. He stood as perfect as a painting, the rusty, red fur in vibrant relief against the gray-green foliage of the Texas sage above him. Slowly, he moved away from the shelter of the brush, his nose whiffling along the ground following s
ome interesting new scent. I hoped it wasn't my rabbit.
My eyes widened at the track-spangled dust in his wake. The marks left as he stepped across the powdery soil overlaid with a film of dew were unlike any I had seen before. They were not paw prints. They were hand prints.
How could that be?
As if he caught my thought, the furry head came up and shrewd eyes regarded me intently. He swung his head over his shoulder as he, too, looked at the oddly marked path. My eyes darted to his feet and I froze at the sight of the furry, hand-shaped feet.
The skin of my arms prickled as we once again stared at each other. I rubbed them against the chills that racked me. Something unspoken passed between us and there was not a word to describe the moment other than uncanny. Something more than ordinary was moving between us and around us. In that moment, all of the truths I had known and all the beliefs forced upon me tumbled useless and broken from my head. And I knew the world was not as simple as heaven and hell. Good and evil. Black and white. It was a simple revelation, but profound. There were yet mysteries and secrets to be found in this world, but they were guarded jealously from those who preferred blind obedience over Sight.
Later, I could not remember where the fog seeped from first. Thin wisps rose around us and drifted over the ground, obscuring my view of the path. The mist swirled around the black-stockinged legs of the fox before drifting over to brush soft, feathery touches against my skin. My jaw dropped as the fox nodded, distinctly satisfied at the now bare path. And then with one last knowing look at me, he sauntered away into the tangle of grasses between the yet uncleared beds.
What magic was this? I thought as I stared after him. It was magical, wasn't it?
The fog thinned and lifted, but the clouds in my thoughts remained. Except for the vivid pictures in my mind, the entire thing might never have happened. But it had. A disquieting little moment in which a sentient creature had show me more than I had ever known the natural world could offer.
