by H. D. Gordon
The way the other seventy or so people in the room turned their heads and scooted away from the young mother and the man with the balding head was incredible in the worst of ways. It was the single strangest moment I’d ever experienced, to see all these people, either too loyal or too afraid to even speak out about the fact that their leader had just claimed to poison them. It was, I thought, a moment rather revealing about human nature.
The reverend’s silky, snaky voice sounded over the speakers once more. “Rest easy, my children. You haven’t really eaten the elixir. This was simply a drill; the Lord’s way of testing your devotion. You are good, God-fearing folks, and heaven’s gates will surely be open to you when the time comes. Don’t worry, Father will protect you from the devils who seek to destroy us. Good night, my children. Peace be with you.”
As his words filled my ears, confirming my instincts about this whole episode being a way to root out the non-believers, a certain sense of hatred began to fill me. It was a kind of red hot anger I’d never really experienced the likes of. In all the crappy circumstances I’d found myself faced with over the years, never had I come up against a person so incredibly cruel and heartless.
A glance over at Christine only served to fuel the growing fire in me as I watched tears stream down her cheeks as she clutched Madison to her and slowly sank down into her seat, a look of horrified confusion stuck on her face. Madison’s head was buried into her mother’s thin chest, her little hands gripping Christine’s shirt. I decided right then that he would not get away with this. I decided come hell or high water, I could not let Ron Reynolds bring my drawing to life.
When Troy gave my hand a small squeeze, I looked over at him, and knew from the look on his face that my anger was visible in my eyes. I blinked and tried to force it away, but it only seemed to settle deeper into the pit of my stomach.
Should’ve killed the bastard when I had the chance, I thought, and Troy gave my hand another squeeze, as if he were thinking the same thing.
Chapter 51
Joe
I slept that night, got my entire allotted five and a half hours and didn’t wake up once. Exhaustion finally won out over my turning mind. I didn’t dream, either. Which was fine. The blackness of the sleeping world was the only reprieve I could get. For whatever reason, though, when I was woken up on Friday morning by Fae’s screeching alarm clock, I felt even more tired than when I’d gone to sleep.
My mind was fuzzier than I could ever remember it being. I was so hungry, but from Thursday night on, every bite I took of whatever food was given to me felt like a game of Russian roulette. Especially since I knew that at some point there really would be poison in the offering.
At some point, when the trigger was pulled, there would’ve actually been a bullet in the chamber.
Later on, after this was all over, I would look back and only be able to recall my stay at The Family Ranch in bits and pieces; just the big incidents that were so impactful that I would never forget experiencing them, not if I lived to be a thousand. The rest of it would be a blur, like an old nightmare where most everything fades away except the monster that was chasing you and the way you felt as you struggled to get away.
For the most part, Friday was no exception. The day wore on as the others before it, the routine already so familiar to me that I moved through most of my tasks on auto-pilot. I realized I finally blended into the rest of the residents perfectly.
There were those things I would never forget, though, and one of them was that the bald man who’d spoken up the night before was not at any of the meal times. People pretended not to notice, and probably told themselves that he had just decided to leave, but there was a definite shift in mood. It was impossible not to feel it, and something told me they knew the man had not just been allowed to walk out of here. Just like none of the rest of us would be allowed to walk out of here—not that most of these people even had anywhere to go, anyway.
He wasn’t the only one who’d gone missing, however. Christine wasn’t present at breakfast, lunch or dinner, either. In fact, it was Fae who brought Madison to the childcare room in the morning, before all the other children arrived, and my heart nearly dropped out of my chest when I saw this.
I probably should have chosen my words more carefully, but I couldn’t find the strength in me at the time to use such caution. I was so tired of all the pretenses. “Where is huh-her mother?” I asked Fae, pausing as I wiped down one of the children’s little tables with a disinfectant wipe, as I did every morning.
Fae’s gaze snapped to me, and she sent Madison over to her seat before answering. “Christine wasn’t feeling well, so Father had someone take her to the hospital,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s already recovering.”
My mouth fell open. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t think of a thing to say to that that wouldn’t get me into trouble. Somehow, I didn’t think Fae would neglect to tell the reverend if I said that’s bullshit. Again, my new found anger flared, and only when I looked over and saw Madison, sitting all alone at the little table, her little head bent forward and her hair hiding her face, was I able to see past the red.
I would be willing to bet my right hand that Christine wasn’t at the hospital. I would also be willing to bet that, on some rudimentary level, Madison knew this too.
But soon after that, the other children began to file into the room, and the day continued on. During meal times, Madison sat with Fae, Troy and me. Somehow Troy even got the poor little girl to smile at some of his silly jokes.
Despite how closely I’ve always walked with pain in my life, never had my chest ached quite in the way it did as I listened to Fae assure Madison that her mommy would be back soon every time the girl asked. By the end of the day, I thought if I had to listen to it one more time, I might just slap the lying smile off Fae’s face. I was starting to hate Fae. I was starting to hate all of these people who were going along with this craziness.
At the same time, it wasn’t like I’d done anything to stop it either, but I didn’t have the time to self-loathe.
There was also another poison “drill” at dinner. This time, no one stood up and spoke out. The reverend’s voice assured us through the speakers that we were “good, God-fearing people”.
Then, the day was ending, bringing us all one step closer to disaster, and making me that much more desperate to formulate a plan to stop it. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure what I’d been doing this whole time.
Ironically, it was Madison who gave me the answer to my riddle. She had come back to our room with Fae, who had apparently become her new guardian while Christine was “healing” in the “hospital”. Fae was tucking Madison in on the pallet she’d laid out on the floor for her. I was sitting on my bed, watching. Watching seemed to be all I was doing lately.
“I’m sad,” Madison said. “I miss my mommy. When is she coming back?”
Fae, who had answered this question a thousand times throughout the day, let out a long sigh. “I told you,” she said. “Soon. She has to get better first. You know that, Maddie.”
The girl stared up at her with just slightly narrowed eyes. “Only my mommy calls me Maddie…and my daddy. Why can’t I call my daddy if I can’t have my mommy?”
Fae’s jaw clenched. “Because, Madison, your mom asked me to watch over you while she gets better, so just give it a rest, would you?”
This made my anger crop up despite my exhaustion, and I found I couldn’t stop the words that came out of me. “T-take it easy,” I said. “She juh-just misses her mom.”
Fae’s eyes snapped to me, her mouth set in a hard line. “Yeah, I think I got that,” she snapped. It seemed to take a moment for her to calm herself, and I held her gaze as she did so, refusing to back down.
A long, tense moment passed between us. Then, in a slightly gentler voice, Fae said, “Hey, Madison, let’s just try to think about happy things, okay? Like, what’s your favorite part about being here? What do you like the most?”
>
My teeth were clenched tighter than a pair of pliers, but I held my tongue for Madison’s sake. The little girl was silent for a moment while she thought it over.
Finally, Madison said, “I guess I like those chocolate-covered pretzels they give us. Those are pretty yummy. I think I could eat a hundred of those things.”
Fae laughed at this as she climbed into bed. “I think we all could, darling. I’ll see if I can snag you a few extra in the morning.” she said. “I’ve never known anyone who could resist one of our famous chocolate-covered pretzels.”
And it was like a light bulb flicked on in my head. I smiled down at the little green-eyed girl curled up in blankets beneath me on the floor, the first real smile I’d given in what felt like forever. From the mouths of babes, I thought, and fell into another dreamless sleep.
It was a good thing too, because as I did so, Saturday morning came sneaking in.
Chapter 52
Joe
Saturday. Saturday I was so tired I felt as though I could sleep for a year. I was running off of pure adrenaline, and it was making my body feel all the more drained. But I knew like I always knew that it was time to act. I’d assimilated, gained as much trust as I was going to gain, and now I needed to get to the business that I’d really come to this crazy farm for.
I needed to get to the pretzels.
I’d been wrong to assume the poison would be administered in a drink, or even in the other food they gave us. It would be in our chocolate-covered pretzels, because Fae was right. No one, not even the children, passed those up. It was the only bit of sugar we were allowed at the ranch, and even I coveted the pretzel at dinnertime.
If I could find the poison pretzels, I could save the day.
Well, that was easier said than done. As usual, Fae watched me like a hawk, and the only time I got to myself was when I used the restroom, and even that was only semi-private. I felt like a turtle who’d lost its shell, and by Saturday I wanted nothing more than to crawl into it and cut myself off from the world.
But, of course, that was not an option. And the more time I spent with Madison Mattock, the more I realized it had never been an option.
Fae never left me alone, but she did get distracted from time to time when caring for the children. On Saturday afternoon, when we took the children outside for their usual playtime on the playground equipment behind the building, while Fae was helping one of the little boys go across the monkey bars, Madison asked me if I would push her on the swing.
“Uh-of course,” I said, giving her a real smile.
She blushed a little and gingerly took my hand, leading me over to the swing set. She watched her feet as she walked, her light hair falling forward to block my view of her face. Though we looked nothing alike, her demeanor reminded me of mine so much that I felt an unexpected stinging in my eyes and had to take a deep breath.
I glanced over at Fae, who was still busy by the monkey bars, and knew that if I was ever going to ask the girl my questions, now was the time. I took a deep breath. “Muh-Madison?” I said. “Can I ah-ah-ask you something?”
She climbed onto the swing and looked back at me over her shoulder. “Can I ask you something?” she countered in her sweet little voice.
I raised my eyebrows. “Sh-sure,” I said.
“How come you talk like that?”
I couldn’t help a smile at the question. It was so plainly spoken, not holding an ounce of judgment or pity, just pure curiosity that only small children are capable of. “I c-can’t help it,” I said. “It’s called a sp-speech impediment…or uh-a stutter.”
Madison kicked her legs, and I gave her a push, sending her forward on the swing. I watched her head nod as she absorbed this information. “Can I ask you one more?” she asked.
I gave her another gentle push. “Sure,” I said.
The toes of her little tennis shoes scraped the ground now as she brought herself to a stop and twisted around in the swing to look at me. “Where is my mommy?” she asked. “Where is she really?”
I glanced over now and saw that while Fae was still over by the monkey bars, she was watching us out of the corner of her eye. I quickly bent down and pretended to tie Madison’s shoe, looking up into her pretty green eyes. I didn’t know what to say. I had planned on being the interrogator here, not the interrogated. But one look at her little face and I knew I couldn’t lie to her.
“I duh-don’t know,” I said. “But I’m guh-going to find out…Madison, I need to ah-ask you s-s-something.”
Madison stared down at her hands now. “Okay,” she said, her sweet voice small.
I switched my hands to her other shoe, untying then retying it. I had no idea how to word my question, so I picked the first thing that came to my mind. “Do you…s-s-see things sometimes?” I asked. “See th-things that…huh-haven’t happened yet?”
Her little head jerked up, and just by the look in her green eyes, I had my answer. “No,” she said. “I don’t think so. But…”
I studied her in silence for a moment. “Buh-but what, Madison?”
Now I felt another pang in my heart as her eyes started to well with tears. “I can’t tell you,” she said. “You won’t believe me. You won’t get it. You’ll say I’m making things up, and then you’ll tell the other kids and they’ll call me names and make fun of me. I want my mommy. All I want is my mommy.”
What I said next sort of just came out on its own, in a kind of panic at seeing her cry. I could only hope that I wasn’t going to regret it. “Can you k-keep a sssecret?” I asked.
Madison swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded.
I leaned forward, lowering my voice to hardly a whisper. “I can s-s-see things before they huh-happen sometimes,” I said, the words foreign on my tongue. And yet, they kept on coming. “It’s c-called cl-clairvoyance,” I continued. “And I guh-got made fun uh-of in school too.”
Her eyes were drying now as she stared at me. “Because of the funny way you talk?” she asked. “Or because of your annoyance?”
I couldn’t help a smile, and decided there was no point in correcting her. If I was right about her, she would learn the word soon enough, and then it would haunt her.
“Both, I-I guess.”
Her eyes narrowed a fraction, and then she let out a breath, apparently having come to a decision about trusting me. “I don’t see things,” she said. “I…feel things. Bad things. Mommy always just thinks I got a tummy ache and gives me some medicine when it happens, even though I’ve tried to tell her it means something bad is coming. My tummy only hurts when something bad is coming.” She paused and looked down again, her hair falling forward into her face. “Every time before daddy hurt mommy real bad, my tummy would be hurting for days.”
Oh Jesus, I thought, because the more I got to know this child, the more I could see the parallels in our lives. As she told me this last part, I thought of my father’s face, of the look on his face when he’d held that silver lighter over my gasoline-soaked mother, who’d been tied to their bed. I thought of the way my father had looked in my drawing, that twisted smile that was painted red by the flames that were rapidly melting away the skin of his wife, of my mother...
I had to take a deep breath and forcibly pull myself back into the present. Those memories served no purpose in the here and now. I swallowed. “Th-that drawing,” I said. “What uh-uh-about that drawing you made the-the uh-other day, Madison? The one of the r-r-road—”
“To nowhere,” Madison finished, as if it were a phrase she’d heard somewhere over and over again, something too poetic to come from such a small child’s brain. It made goose bumps break out over my skin instantly despite the warm weather.
Now, it was her voice that was barely a whisper. “I never drawed anything like that before. Looking at it made my stomach hurt real awful. Can I tell you something?”
I nodded, because I couldn’t trust my voice to come out steady.
Madison glanced around before
meeting my eyes again. “My stomach’s been hurting since me and my mommy came to this place,” she said. “I’m scared cuz I know something bad is gonna happen and there ain’t nothing I can do to stop it, just like with daddy. It’s coming soon. I’m just sure of it.”
It felt like my heart was breaking. There’s no other way to describe it. I took her hands then and pulled her from the swing, because Fae was watching us closer now and was calling the children together to line up and go inside. Playtime was over.
I floundered for words, the lost look in Madison’s green eyes enough to make my throat go tight. But I knew I had to say something to soothe her. How many times had I wished someone would say something to soothe me when I was her age? Too many to count.
