by Amy Cross
"Actually, I believe the job is already complete," Victoria replies, smiling innocently. "Oh, I'm sorry for interrupting you, Sir. I thought you had finished speaking."
I stare at her, confounded by her claim. "Already complete?" I say, smiling at her naivety. "I hardly think you comprehend the magnitude of your uncle's endeavor. Why, the metal alone must be sourced and then fashioned into the proper shape. Then there's the matter of foundations." I can't tell her what I truly feel, of course, which is that there is no way Mr. Paternoster will be able to erect his giant cross, not in weeks, not in months, not even in years.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she says again, stepping over to the window," I just thought... Yes, I was correct, he has completed work. It's quite magnificent!"
Frowning, I get up from my seat, grab my spare walking cane, and hurry to the window. "Completed?" I say. "I wasn't aware he had even started work to -" I freeze as I get to the window and see that, contrary to all possibilities, Mr. Paternoster has not only started work, he has actually finished his construction. Standing tall and proud in the center of the town square, his huge metal cross soars forty feet up into the fresh morning sky. Stunned townsfolk are congregating around the monolith, staring up at its wonder. It's as if, overnight, the face of Devil's Briar has been magically and permanently transformed. I can barely believe that such a thing is possible, and it strikes me that this Mr. Paternoster fellow must be in possession of some rather extreme talents.
"How..." I start to say, "I mean, how... How did he... How... In one night? How could he possibly erect such a thing in a single night? Where were his tools? Where were his materials? Where were his men? Where... How..."
Standing next to me, Victoria smiles her beautiful smile. "My uncle is a man of singular dedication," she says. "When he plans a venture, he likes to have everything in place ready for the start. I'm surprised you didn't see the finished work this morning when you came to your office."
"I don't -" I start to say, but my mind is blank. It's hard to form coherent thoughts right now, since I'm so shocked that this impossible construction has been completed with such seeming ease. "I often enter through the rear entrance," I stammer, "so as to avoid the constant interruption of well-wishers who seek to greet and praise me." I turn to her. "Your uncle is a most remarkable man, Victoria. A most remarkable man indeed."
"He is, isn't he?" she says, smiling as she stares up at the cross. Her eyes are ablaze with wonder, and I realize it will take me some time to elicit a similar response from her with regard to my own person. Looking down, I see her round, firm rump and I have to move away from the window in order to fight the urge to touch her. "I suppose the paperwork will have to be reconsidered," I say, looking at the pile of documents on my desk, most of which have been rendered somewhat irrelevant thanks to Mr. Paternoster's supreme speed.
"Shall we go down and take a closer look?" Victoria asks. "I mean, if you can take time from your busy schedule." She hurries over to the desk. "I'm sure the people of Devil's Briar will want to share their joy with the man who serves as their leader."
"Quite right," I say, heading to the door and grabbing my fur coat.
"Let me," Victoria says, running over and helping me get the coat onto my shoulders. "I do hope I'm performing adequately for you," she continues as she buttons me up. "It's my first time in such a position, but I truly enjoy being here. You must tell me when I do something wrong, so that I can improve. You will only have to inform me of each infraction once, I assure you. I'm a very quick and eager learner."
"You are doing more than adequately," I say. "In fact, you are a positive breath of fresh air."
"Wait one moment," she says, pulling a small comb from her pocket. "Let me attend to your whiskers."
I stand stock still, and rather surprised, as Victoria combs my mustache and facial hair. She seems rather tenderly concerned about my grooming, as if she is genuinely keen to ensure that I look my best. After a moment, she withdraws her comb and smiles as she regards my face.
"There," she says, seeming rather proud. "All done."
Heading downstairs and out the front door, I lead Victoria into the town square, where the huge cross towers over the dozen or so citizens who are gathered to marvel at Mr. Paternoster's achievement. The square has always seemed a little bare, and I have long contemplated the erection of some kind of statue or memorial in the center, but the cross has completely changed the character of the area, perhaps even of the town itself. The structure appears to be made of iron, just as Mr. Paternoster promised, and its black surface glints in the morning sun. I am quite certain that, on this morning, the Lord Himself must have turned to look down on Devil's Briar, and he must be pleased indeed that our little town has displayed its faith in such an open and magnificent manner.
"Mayor Caster!" says a voice to my side. I look down to see that young Gilly Haynes, the seven-year-old daughter of David and Lilith Haynes, has come running over to me.
"Good morning, Gilly," I say, always keen to humor the children of our community. "And what do you make of the new arrival?"
"It's wonderful," she replies, clearly excited by the vision. "Did you make it with your own bare hands, Mayor Caster?"
"Me?" I pause for a moment. "No," I say eventually, amused by the child's assumption that such a grand creation must necessarily be my work. "This was really a collaboration between myself and another gentleman. I handled the vital paperwork, and he handled the basic construction." I glance over at Victoria, and see that she's too busy staring up in awe at the cross to hear what I'm saying to Gilly. "You must be aware," I continue, rather enjoying my conversation with the child, "that a project such as this requires a great deal of planning." I turn away from the cross and point to my office window. "Why, up there in my office, there exists a mountain of paperwork in relation to this endeavor, the likes of which almost dwarf the erection itself!" I look down and see that Gilly is still staring at the cross.
"So you didn't make it, then?" she says, looking a little disappointed.
I pause for a moment. "I handled the paperwork," I remind her. "I examined the plans, stamped the design and agreed to the -"
"Is that the man who built it?" she asks, pointing to Mr. Thomas Paternoster, who has entered the square.
"Well, yes," I say, "that is the man who actually -" Before I can finish the sentence, Gilly runs over toward Mr. Paternoster, leaving me standing with Victoria. Clearly, Gilly doesn't understand the way that civil projects work, and she believes that all the glory should be directed toward Mr. Paternoster.
In fact, all around me, the citizens of our fair town seem almost unable to avert their gaze from this magnificent construction. Even irascible old Henry Porter is standing on the steps of his hotel, while Dr. Collings stands transfixed over by the apothecary. It has been a long time since the people of Devil's Briar came together in such a manner, but Mr. Paternoster's cross is drawing more and more people to the square as the minutes tick by. As the people gather, an uncomfortable feeling creeps into my bones and I start to feel that the town is becoming alien to me. I have lived here all my life, and I have come to understand how these people think and how they live; at this very moment, however, I'm starting to question whether things are subtly changing in Devil's Briar.
"May the Lord be praised," says Victoria, smiling at me and unexpectedly grabbing my hand. "Shall we pray, Mayor Caster?"
Stunned by the feeling of her flesh against mine, it takes me a moment to reply. "Yes, my dear," I say finally. "Let us pray, though I shall remain standing on account of my bad knee."
"Of course," Victoria says, kneeling next to me.
Taking a deep breath, I look up at the cross. I have served as Mayor of Devil's Briar for many years now, and over that time I feel that I have come to understand the way the town works. Now, for the first time, I'm starting to wonder whether the townsfolk are being seduced by the easy, rather blunt talents of Mr. Paternoster. Perhaps I shall have to find some way to remind e
veryone who is really in charge around here.
Chapter Two
Today.
"Male," Bill says as he examines the skeleton that I found under our bed last night. "No obvious sign of injury. Hard to assess the age, but certainly an adult." He gently removes the lower jawbone. "Teeth look to be in good health, so I'd say this was someone who had money. Dental hygiene wasn't something that most people could afford back then." Glancing along the body, he seems suddenly interested in something on one of the legs. "A damaged knee," he says. "This guy probably had a limp. Apart from that, there's very little I can determine, and I certainly can't say why he ended up under a bed."
Standing over in the corner of the room, I watch with a growing sense of dread. I don't like dead bodies at the best of times, and discovering one beneath my bed at two o'clock in the morning is way, way beyond my comfort zone. I haven't managed to get a moment's sleep since we arrived at Devil's Briar, and I'm feeling simultaneously exhausted and wide awake.
"Don't worry," Bill says, disconnecting the shoulder and removing the skeleton's left arm. "He's armless." He grins, waving the bones at me.
"Ha-ha," I reply, trying not to let him see my discomfort. "Can we just get going now? Please?"
Sighing, he puts the arm on the side and walks over to me. "I guess you're not up for another day of exploring Devil's Briar, are you?"
"Not really," I reply sourly.
"Okay," he says. "I totally understand. I'll drive you into town, and then I'll come back out here by myself."
"Seriously?" I ask. "You actually want to be here alone?"
"I want to look around," he says. "At the same time, I can see it'd be cruel to force you to stay, so I'm willing to lose a day's work in order to get you back to the motel. I'll call Ed and some of the guys from the faculty, and see if they can get up here. Besides, it'd be useful to get online and check some more details about this place, maybe see if I can finally find some records." He leans closer and kisses me on the cheek. "Before we go, do you mind if we quickly pop into that building across the street? I think it might have been the Mayor's office, and I'd like to see if I can get any documents that might have been left around the place. It'll take five minutes, maximum."
"Sure," I say, glancing over at the skeleton. "Can we just get going? Please?"
Once Bill has grabbed his rucksack, we head out of the hotel and into the morning light. The huge cross still dominates the scene, but Devil's Briar doesn't seem quite as intimidating in the daylight. To be honest, I'm feeling kind of torn between wanting to get out of here, and wanting to prove to Bill that I'm not scared. Since I discovered the skeleton during the night, my husband has been going out of his way to show how much he's worried about me. It almost feels as if he's going too far, as if he's enjoying playing the role of the protective, paternal man in our relationship and treating me like a scared little woman. The one thing worse than Bill insisting we stay in Devil's Briar, is Bill insisting we leave because he thinks I'm too scared to stay. If only I hadn't screamed when I saw the skeleton...
"I want to get to the bottom of this thing," Bill says as we pass the cross. He reaches out and bangs it with his fist. "Literally. I want to dig down and find out how the damn thing is held in place. It must have taken weeks, if not months, to get something like this raised. I refuse to believe that there's not some kind of record, somewhere, of how a giant cross ended up in a little town like Devil's Briar."
"I think I'll wait outside while you go in," I say as we reach the building opposite. The thought of stumbling across some more dead bodies is kind of chilling, and I don't feel like going into another old, dusty room.
"I figured you'd say that," he replies, pausing to break the door down. A cloud of dust comes out, and it's pretty clear that this building, like all the others, has not been disturbed for a long time. "I'm gonna be quick," he says, waiting for the worst of the dust to settle. "I just want to see if I can find out some details." With that, he disappears inside, leaving me standing alone in the town square.
Wandering back over to the cross, I glance around at the buildings surrounding the square. Ever since we found the skeleton in the hotel last night, I've been imagining all the dead bodies that might be awaiting us in this place. Even now, there could be skeletons piled up in every house in the damn town, their toothy grins gathering dust. I share Bill's sense of excitement about the idea of exploring Devil's Briar, but I really don't fancy breaking into building after building and discovering a series of dead bodies. Although there's a part of me that wants to stay and prove to Bill that I'm not freaked out, I figure it'd be better for his research if he comes back later with a proper team. They can really -
Suddenly I hear a noise. Somewhere nearby, a single banging sound, as if something struck a piece of metal.
Standing completely still, I wait. It's totally possible that something simply fell over, or maybe there's some wildlife making this place its home. Nevertheless, I can't help feeling a little creeped out, especially since the noise seemed to come from quite far away. I wait to see if it'll happen again, but the town seems to have fallen silent once more. Did I imagine that sound? I've studied enough psychology texts to know that the human mind is more than capable of experiencing hallucinations in times of stress, so did my brain just trick me into thinking I heard something? If that's the case, is there a danger I might start suffering from visual hallucinations as well?
"You okay?" Bill asks.
I turn, surprised that he managed to creep up on me. "Yeah," I say, deciding not to tell him about the bang I heard. After all, it was probably nothing, and I really don't want to fuel his perception of me as some kind of jumpy, nervous idiot. "So did you find anything?" I continue, looking at the pile of dusty papers in his hands.
"I haven't been through any of it yet," he says, "but I'm pretty sure there'll be something useful in here. Even just a name would help me to start looking through records. Devil's Briar can't have existed in complete isolation. People must have come here, and people must have left. Once I know what I'm looking for, I can really expand the search."
"Let me take some of that," I say, grabbing a few of the papers. We start walking away from the town square, heading back to where we left the truck. "So what was it like inside?" I ask.
"Dusty," he replies. "There wasn't much. I found an office. I think it belonged to the Mayor. There was a desk, and there were a load of filing cabinets. Definitely some kind of official space. I just grabbed the papers that were left out. It really looked like the place was abandoned in a hurry." He smiles. "It was pretty creepy, though, so it's probably for the best that you didn't come in with me."
I sigh. This condescending attitude is getting really annoying. "I don't like the dust," I say, although I immediately realize how weak the excuse sounds. "You know I don't believe in ghosts, right?"
"I know," he says. "But the human mind is a strange thing. Even if your conscious intelligence insists that there's no such thing as ghosts or monsters, your brain can still instigate a survival mechanism that's designed to get you out of a situation that might contain threats. It's not something you can really control. Some people are just born like that, and others aren't." As we turn a corner and head along the next street, he seems lost in thought for a moment. "You mustn't feel bad, Paula. It's just the way you're built."
"Okay, thanks!" I reply tersely. "I get it!"
"Sorry," he replies. "Just trying to make you feel better."
We walk on in silence. When we arrived in Devil's Briar yesterday, I kept telling myself that I don't believe in ghosts. Even as we explored the dusty old hotel, I told myself the same thing over and over again. The trouble is, I'm not sure it's entirely true. Deep down, when faced with an abandoned old building and a skeleton under the bed, I think my genuine feelings came to the surface. I want to be the kind of person who can control her primitive superstitions. I'm still tempted to turn around and tell Bill I'm happy to stay for another night, just to prove
to him - and to myself - that I can't be scared so easily. At the same time, the thought of getting away from Devil's Briar is too enticing, as is the thought of getting away from Bill. I really need to take some time and decide what I want to do with my life, because now that the 'old' Bill is back I'm starting to remember why I was poised to leave him before he had his accident.
"I'm sorry," he says as we reach the truck and load the papers into the back.
"It's fine," I reply. "You don't have to apologize for anything."
"Yeah, I do," he says. "I've been an ass since we got here. I should have listened to you yesterday." He sighs. "I guess it's been so long since I've got my teeth into some real work, I'm a little over-eager. It doesn't help that this is possibly the most exciting discovery of my career, but I should have taken your needs into consideration." He pauses for a moment. "I love you, Paula. You know that, right?"
I smile. "I love you too," I tell him, even though I'm not sure it's true. I definitely loved Bill when we got married a few years ago, but these days I feel like I'm only with him because I feel too bad to leave. "Maybe we should get going," I say. "Do you mind driving? I haven't slept in over a day."
"Sure," he says, clearly a little disappointed. Once we're in the truck, there's a tense atmosphere, as if we're both aware that something's wrong but neither of us wants to admit it. Looking down at the dashboard, I wait as Bill tries to get the engine started, and then he tries again.
"Is something wrong?" I ask.
"Just give it a moment," he replies, struggling with the ignition.
My heart sinks as I listen to the engine repeatedly spluttering. Something definitely sounds wrong, and I can see from the look on Bill's face that he's not quite sure what to do.
"I'm going to look at the engine," he says finally, getting out of the truck. I sit and watch as he raises the hood. A few feet away, the first houses of Devil's Briar loom ominously, and I find myself wondering if fate is going to conspire to keep us here. Finally I hear Bill banging something under the hood, before he walks around the side of the truck and bends down, looking underneath.
