Where Darkness Dwells

by Glen Krisch

  "Yeah." Cooper laughed. "Everyone seems to be having a fine time."

  Certain that the children were behaving themselves, she turned back to Cooper, smirking. "That would be Dr. Thompson's mulberry wine. He brought along two cases." Jane fanned herself with her palm in an effort to cool. "I didn't have any myself."

  "Didn't I see you with a wine glass?"

  "You caught me. That was just a prop. I'm not much of a drinker, but I didn't think I could enjoy myself if I didn't at least appear otherwise. Besides, Mr. Cooper, the day isn't about me. It's about Louise. Family. Community."

  Before an uncomfortable silence could settle on their conversation, Jacob stepped outside with a tray with three glasses of tea. He gave one a piece to his mom and Cooper, and then took the last for himself.

  "Thanks, dear. I was getting parched. Why don't you go off with the other boys. Me and Mr. Cooper are talking."

  Jacob looked upset having so quickly been cast aside. Cooper was surprised at Jane's forwardness. He had planned on staying just as long as it took to have his drink, and then take off for home. He was beginning to feel the familiar pull of the Blankenship home. They wanted him home.

  The boy gulped some tea before returning it to the tray. He slinked away toward the splashing sounds coming from the creek. They watched him leave before continuing. "Now, Mr. Cooper--"

  "Jane, please call me Ted, or Coop. My dad is Mr. Cooper."

  "Fine, Ted. Thanks for coming. We're not so bad, are we?"

  "No, not so bad."

  They both laughed, their eye contact lingering.

  "Jacob's a great kid. I've seen how he is with Ellie."

  "It's been tough sometimes, but you're right, he's a great kid. Both of my boys are."

  "Children are a direct reflection of their parents. It's admirable, you taking on all that yourself."

  "It wasn't by choice, trust me. I married Dwight a month shy of my sixteenth birthday. Jimmy came along a year later. I was so young when Dwight passed, I didn't know I was in over my head until the boys had grown and it didn't matter."

  Cooper was doing the math in his head while trying to pay attention to what Jane was saying. Thirty-two. Jane Fowler was thirty-two.

  A couple stepped outside, surprised at how dark it was getting. If memory served from his earlier introduction, their name was Nightingale. They were farmers. Mr. Nightingale used to also work in the Grendal mines before they shut down. He still carried a nasty miner's cough, and tended to hack away when he laughed, but he didn't seem put out by it. They seemed like a nice enough family.

  "Children?" Mrs. Nightingale asked Jane. She leaned against her husband for both comfort and balance.

  "I just saw the girls running around down by the barn. Ralph is probably down by the orchard with the other boys collecting lightning bugs."

  "Thanks. Wonderful evening." At that, the Nightingales went to search for their kids. When they were off a ways, Mr. Nightingale growled into his wife's ear. She gave off a girlish shriek and scampered away.

  Cooper, regaining the thread of their conversation, said, "Fifteen is awfully young to be marrying."

  "I know, I know. One of the hardest things in life is to tell love to wait. Sometimes it hits so strong. When you're young, you just can't help it. I wouldn't do anything different, well, besides…"

  After a moment's pause, Cooper chimed in, "Dwight?"

  Her eyes drifted to the yard, the distant trees, seeing, but not taking anything in. "I've had years to think on it. I would've put my foot down. Not let him go." She turned to him, and her eyes were glassy, intense. "He was a few years older than me, but he seemed to know so much more. At the time, I didn't think I could convince him to stay, if push came to shove. Instead, he convinced me that the world needed him to join the fight. Since then I've realized that all he was was a scared boy. He ran instead of facing a life working in the mines."

  "Sometimes it's hard to change a person's mind."

  "Oh, I know. You can't change the past. I just sometimes wonder if Dwight would've stayed the same happy-go-lucky man I married if he wouldn't have gone. He was a changed man when he came home. Not just physically. He was weak and prone to pneumonia--that's what eventually took him from this world--but his mind had changed, too. I believe to this day his mind came back more damaged than his body."

  "I've met people who fought in Europe, and not a one has much good to say about it. If they're willing to talk about it at all."

  "When Dwight came home, I expected all sorts of heroic stories, but all was mum. His stories played out through his eyes. They darkened somehow. He didn't have to say a word." She stared off at the circle around Louise. There were fewer children playing in the yard. A couple here and there. Adults had filtered away to their homes, their kids in tow, waving goodbye to Jane, nodding to acknowledge Cooper. Nightfall was quickly descending.

  He wanted to apologize for speaking about the war at all. He should've steered the conversation away from the sensitive subject, but he couldn't help wanting to hear more.

  Then Jane blinked several times, and then turned to him, almost smiling. "You bought the old Blankenship place, right?"

  "I'm about as surprised as anyone."

  "Now, don't take this wrong, I don't mean any offense, but no one who seen you come into town would've thought you were in any position to buy a house like that."

  "I'm not a wealthy man by any means. Mr. Prescott offered the property as a foreclosure. He just wanted it clear from the bank's balance sheet."

  "So how do you come strolling into Coal Hollow, looking like a man who hasn't been settled for quite a while, and all of the sudden buy a house?"

  Cooper was surprised at her candor, and it must have shown.

  "I'm sorry, that's a bit personal isn't it? Can you tell I don't interact much with anyone but family? When you're the mother, it's always a matter of telling the children when to wipe their feet and when to sit up straight. The more direct you are the faster the results."

  "Oh, it's all right, Jane, it's just a long story is all. I'm not from a wealthy family, just comfortable, and until a year ago I worked quite happily as a librarian in Chicago."

  "A librarian?"

  "We all have our secrets," he said and chuckled.

  The sun had gone; all that remained was its weakening echo, and soon it would be full on dark. A concentrated soft yellow glow bound through the yard, accompanied by the giggles and whoops of children. The remaining kids were on the hunt, filling mason jars to the point they could've been used as makeshift lanterns.

  "So why did you leave if you were so happy--there I go again. Don't answer that. I'm sorry," she said, patting his arm.

  "Oh, I loved my job, but I just came to a point where I couldn't stand the silence."

  "There would be a lot of that in the library business, wouldn't there?"

  He laughed. Sure, the library had been quiet, but he had once savored the silence. Then, after meeting Velma Fortune--he still had trouble thinking of her as his grandmother--the silence had become palpably heavy. And with it came self doubt. Wondering who he was, what he was doing with his life. Wondering if he was denying who he was now that he knew his heritage. He had felt lost. A fraud. The silence became maddening.

  "I once loved the quiet of the library and the occasional rasp of pages being turned… knowing people were seeking knowledge and enriching their lives." He finished the tea that Jacob had brought him, now watered down from the melted ice.

  He suddenly wanted to leave, but couldn't find a way to break off the conversation. Jane seemed too close.

  When he looked into her eyes, she seemed close enough to see the thoughts inside his head. He looked away.

  "That changed?"

  "Oh, yes, definitely changed."

  The library patrons sought knowledge, and he missed joining them in the pursuit, but he'd made the right decision. His journey of discovery couldn't take place in the insular world of the library; that would've been
impossible. Finding his rightful path could only happen in the real world with people made up of flesh and blood instead of ink and paper.

  "Tell me about it." She leaned closer to him, he assumed so she could see him better in the dark. But the look on her face. Was Jane Fowler leaning in to kiss him?

  Before he could find out either way, he started talking, "You see, my grandmother, I thought she had died when my father was young. That's what I was always told. But last year she came to live with us."

  "That must have been exciting. A new family member coming out of the woodwork, so to speak."

  "I suppose." He couldn't believe he was telling her any of this. But he couldn't stop talking, and she seemed so kind, and it had been so long since he had been so close to a woman.

  "You see," he paused, looking at her face so close to his. Her eyes glimmered, her lips forming a brief smile. "Velma was weak when she came to live with us. She was dying."

  "Oh, how horrible. Just meeting her, too!" Her smile tensed with sadness, then with understanding. After all, her Dwight had been so sick when he returned from the war.

  "We made the most of her months with us. I got to know about a part of my family I never knew about."

  "At least you had that time together." She placed her hand over his and squeezed. He expected her to pull away, but she didn't.

  The last guests came by, a young couple with arms loaded with leftovers and a newborn set of twins, ready for home.

  What was their name? Webster? Brewster? That was it, Cooper realized. Mr. and Mrs. Brewster. They seemed so young, but still somehow fully realized adults. They were set on their rightful path, a path they would follow unwaveringly and in its entirety. He wondered if they knew how lucky they were to be in such a position so early in life.

  "Good night all," Mrs. Brewster said, the baby starting to squawk in her arms.

  "Get those little ones to bed," Jane said, smiling.

  "Thanks, Mrs. Fowler. You've set the standard for future potlucks," Mr. Brewster said. With arms burdened with a basket of cooling leftovers and an irritated baby, he leaned over, extended his hand to Cooper.

  "Kent. Nice to meet you."

  "You too, Coop. We'll be seeing you around town."

  His treatment from the guests surprised Cooper. All with welcomes, well wishes and pleasant good byes. As if he were Jane's equal in the community's eyes; an accepted and respected neighbor. It surprised him even more how good this felt.

  The Brewster's reached their truck. Kent revved the engine, and they were gone. They were once again alone. This time truly alone. Louise had retired when her gaggle of girls had dwindled. Jacob was probably in the barn, or still by the creek. All was quiet.

  Sitting so close in the near-dark, Cooper could only make out Jane's profile, her delicate nose, her soft lips, a gentle crease at the corner of her eye.

  "Family is the most important thing in the world. The only part worth mentioning, if you ask me." She turned to him. "I can't wait to have my family together again. But maybe I'll make due with news on Monday."

  "Monday?" he asked, happy about the change of subject.

  "A letter should be waiting for me. From Jimmy. It better be, or I'll raise a stink when I see him. I'd at least like to have a return address so I can send him the bundle of letters waiting for him. I'm afraid I'm not such a nice mom in some of them. I thought about pulling the harsher ones from the pile, but decided against it. I held my tongue with Dwight; I'm not about to do that with my son."

  He watched her smile broaden, and it nearly broke his heart.

  His pulse stopped racing, as if all at once his adrenaline had frozen solid between heartbeats, leaving a gnawing pain in its wake.

  "Jane… Jane look at me. The kids were right."

  "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice traced with anger.

  "Jimmy's not in the army." His words erased any trace of her happiness.

  "Not you too. He's in Peoria, in training--"

  "No, he's not."

  "How can you say such a thing?" she said, pulling away, standing, her hands on her hips.

  "He's somewhere in Coal Hollow." He reached for her hand, and reluctantly, she let him hold her limp fingers. "Greta was right. I don't know how Bergman came across that information about Jimmy's enlistment--if he made it up himself or someone pressured him to lie--but that's what it is. A lie."

  She pulled away from him, stepping from the back porch, striding across the grass. She started speaking--she would've even if he wasn't following: "I've never trusted that old witch. Never. And you--I obviously can't trust you either. Here I was thinking we were making some kind of connection, and then this."

  Cooper closed the distance between them, continuing, "Jane, it's true. You can trust me."

  "Don't use that word with me. You make it sound obscene. Trust."

  "I have proof."

  She stopped, her back still to him. After a long moment, the croaking of bullfrogs broke the silence. "Fine, show me this proof."

  "We'll have to leave. Visit Greta."

  "I told you I don't trust her."

  "The things she told me, Jane, there's no other possible way she could've known any of it unless her visions have merit. As crazy as it sounds, I believe in her abilities, and I was beyond skeptical before I met her."

  He reached for her, touching her lightly on the elbow, but she shrugged him away, hugging her arms in front of her.

  She stared into his eyes, boldly, unflinchingly. He didn't look away. Perhaps she sensed his sincerity; perhaps her concern for Jimmy overrode all other matters. He didn't know either way, but in the end she squeezed his hand.

  "Fine. Show me this proof. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't try to learn the whole truth."

  Part IV

  1.

  Crouched low in the back of Dr. Thompson's Packard, Jacob and Ellie hid beneath a tattered blanket they'd found draped over the floorboard. She hadn't told him much, yet, just enough to convince him to follow Dr. Thompson when he left the potluck.

  It had stung when his mom dismissed him in order to talk privately with Mr. Cooper. But maybe it would be for the best. Maybe he would finally learn something of Jimmy's whereabouts.

  He'd left the other remaining boys down at the creek when their moods turned torturous. Archie Beaumont was the ring leader, shoving gravel into the mouth of a thrashing bullfrog. After weighting it down the boy tossed it back in the creek, waiting for it to resurface, if it would at all, laughing uproariously.

  Disgusted with Archie's behavior and the other boys' willing complicity, he left, walking aimlessly from creek to barn, then back up to the house again. He'd kept a wide berth, hooking wide of the back porch to avoid his mom and Cooper's conversation. He entered the house through the front door. That's when Ellie found him.

  Someone approached the parked Packard. They'd been waiting a solid five minutes, too worried about being spotted or heard to make a peep. The person opened the trunk and slid something heavy inside. Jacob assumed it was the doctor's leftover wine. He was surprised there was any remaining with how the neighbors were putting it away all day long.

  They held their breath, but their worries were unfounded. Dr. Thompson walked by the rear door without so much as a glance, then opened the driver's side door, groaning as the seat took his weight. Ellie's head was against the door directly behind Thompson, but Jacob could see into the front seat from his hiding spot. A slice of dusky light washed across the doctor's face, and he looked tired, sober but tired.

  Jacob would've bet the doctor had polished two bottles of mulberry wine by himself just this afternoon. But he seemed steady and aware, ready for home. The doctor started up the car, took a turn nearly too wide for the narrow turn-about, then thundered the engine down the double wheel ruts. They'd made it so far, stowed away, hidden and leery.

  He still couldn't believe that a person as respected as Dr. Thompson would conceal knowledge concerning Jimmy. Ellie had been keeping her
ears perked during the potluck, panning for any useful information. She was a sly one, moving from one crowd to the next, as noticed as a shadow on a cloudy day. Few held their tongues around the girl, and after hours of wine and rich food, their tongues only loosened.

  As dusk settled over their farm, Ellie struck pay dirt. The doctor and Magee the barber were speaking in quiet tones, quiet enough not to draw a further crowd, but loud enough for Ellie to get the gist of it. After hearing the conversation, Ellie had pulled Jacob aside, whispering a transcript while cupping his ear.

  Magee had spoken to Thompson about a man named Ethan. Ellie could hear the fear in Magee's voice. Ethan was consolidating his power, severing loose ends. When Jacob asked what that meant, she told him the names Magee mentioned. Jimmy, George, Greta, Cooper.

  As the Packard jounced down the road toward town, Jacob analyzed the brief interplay.

  How much did either man know?

  Who else knew?

  Quite abruptly, the doctor stomped the brake pedal, the tires ripping coarse grit from the ground.

  "You can't stop this." Thompson slammed a fist against the steering column.

  Ellie stirred, as did Jacob, but after checking on Thompson, Jacob caught Ellie before she could blurt out or startle the doctor.

  Thompson continued to talk to himself. "You're too old. No, age doesn't matter in any of this, does it? Not with that damnable healing. Age doesn't matter, but courage does. And you don't have an ounce in you, old man."

  Thompson rubbed his eyes roughly, as if trying to erase some horrible indelible image from his sight. The doctor laughed to himself. At first a chuckle, the laughter grew in intensity and timbre, flooding with a volatile mixture of madness and relief. He laughed and rubbed his eyes some more, then took a deep, quavering breath. He let it out and opened the door.

  "Well, let's see what can be done. Sure wish Jasper was well enough to have a part in this foolishness. This should've happened decades ago. Me and Jasper, going in full-bore, guns blazing…" Thompson spoke, as if the words were no longer his own, or that perhaps he was not even aware that they were issuing from his mouth. Jacob made eye contact with Ellie, and as Dr. Thompson closed the door behind him, she placed a hand on his calf and squeezed. Even though they didn't know what the doctor had been rambling on about, she looked terrified. Her look mirrored how Jacob felt.