Imprints

by Rachel Ann Nunes

  I used towels to clean the dirt from my legs, silently grateful for

  the black socks that had protected the bandage on my big toe. The bit

  of dust and dirt that had crept through the socks was nothing compared

  to the dust and dirt on the rest of me. I threw the towel in a basket near the sink and left the room, flipping off the light. Feeling my way in the dark, I found the storage closet and stashed my nightgown behind a suitcase on a top shelf. By the time Scarlet discovered it, I’d be long gone. Maybe everyone would be gone.

  Three more creaky boards and I was in my room. Victoria had left the door open, and I was relieved to see her bunk occupied. I’d been worried she’d run outside and blunder into a guard or, worse, go straight to Gabe and Harmony.

  I didn’t realize until I stopped moving how much my body ached, especially my wrist, which I’d wrapped in a rag, up and around my thumb to immobilize it as best I could, especially while I slept. Tawnia, who worked at a computer designing all day, had told me nights were especially hard on sore wrists. She went months at a time wearing braces at night.

  Thinking of my sister eased the pain. At least she was safe. Bret and the baby, too. I’d be back with them soon.

  I hoped.

  Everything at the moment depended on how fast Ethan brought the police and whether or not the guard recognized me.

  “Victoria?” I whispered.

  No answer.

  “I know it might be hard to believe,” I told her, “but somehow I’m going to make sure everything is okay—for both of us.”

  Chapter 18

  It felt as though I’d no sooner closed my eyes than the world exploded into light and movement. Footsteps pounded down the hall, and people called out to one another. Scarlet and someone else were talking loudly outside our open door. I pried open one eye. Essence was still in bed on the other bottom bunk, but even from below, I could see the top one was made, the corners tucked in neatly under the mattress above the slats that held it. My head ached fiercely, but that was nothing a little tea couldn’t help—providing I could find the right herbs.

  “It’s about time you woke up,” Spring said, coming inside the room with her son on her hip. She looked better today, though her greenish bruises were still visible. “You must have been tired. Oh, look at your face! It’s even worse today.”

  “Yeah, when I got lost in the forest last night, I fell down pretty hard. Maybe it didn’t look much different last night because the new bruises hadn’t formed yet.”

  Spring nodded. “Things like this always look worse the next day.” Spoken by someone who had reason to know. I felt bad fooling her.

  Scarlet had followed her in, her large brown eyes soaking up everything about me. “Child, what’s wrong with your wrist?”

  “Must have happened last night, too.” Not in the same trip, but she didn’t have to know that.

  Scarlet clucked her sympathy. “You should have told me. I have somethin’ better than that old rag. I keep elastic bandages in a drawer. Come along, now.” Her southern accent was deeper this morning, as though she’d been steeped in southern dreams. I wondered where she came from and how she’d ended up here.

  “Where’s, uh . . . Misty?” I said, forgetting for a few moments Victoria’s new name. At least I didn’t call her Victoria, which was an improvement over last night.

  “She’s getting breakfast for the little ones. They don’t fast, of course.”

  My stomach rumbled at the notion of food. After pulling on some jeans and a commune T-shirt, I left my unmade bed and let Scarlet lead me back to the bathing room, where she wrapped my wrist. The pain wasn’t as bad as when I’d first injured it, but the joints were stiff. When she finished, I rubbed comfrey salve into the scratches on my face and touched up the makeup as Spring watched with interest. I offered her some for her own bruises, and she accepted willingly. She looked young and carefree this morning, the fear gone or at least laid to rest temporarily. I hoped nothing I did at the farm would change that for her.

  “About the fast,” I said to Scarlet, my stomach driving me to distraction, “we can drink, right?”

  “If you want, though many choose not to the first day.”

  “It’s just my headache. I could use some herbs.”

  “Come over to the kitchen. I’ll show you where we keep them.”

  “I’ll come along,” Spring said. “I need to feed Silverstar.” She kissed the boy’s face exuberantly.

  The back door to the main house opened to a large entryway that would have been more usually found in the front of most houses. But then this door was, for all intents and purposes, the main entrance. Across from the entrance I glimpsed a door to a large room with several women inside, but Scarlet turned left down the hall and left again into the huge kitchen. Delicious smells preceded our arrival, making my stomach eager with its protests.

  Two long tables filled much of the available space in the kitchen, their scarred wooden tops showing they were well used—and for more than just eating. A handful of children sat devouring a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and hash browns—all of which, Scarlet informed me, were grown or raised right here on the farm. Cups of foamy milk sat before the children, and I wondered if it was still warm from the morning’s milking. A few vacant places showed where other children had already eaten, their empty plates awaiting removal. A pile of bacon was growing on a plate near Victoria, who stood cooking before an industrial-sized wood stove.

  Light poured in through large windows that faced the back porch and the square. The curtains were open, and I could see men and boys outside, walking around purposefully. A few young girls emerged from the direction of the outhouses. Only two women were tending the smaller children in the square, and I wondered where the rest were and what they were doing.

  My eyes riveted once again on the pile of bacon. I sighed a little too loudly. Victoria glanced at me and then away again.

  “Right here’s the herbs,” Scarlet said, showing me to a row of wooden boxes with a knob on the top of each lid. “They’re all marked. Feel free to use whatever you want. We always have a pot of water boilin’ here for tea.” She turned to Spring. “Would this boy like some oatmeal? There’s a pot here, all cooked and ready to go.”

  “I’m sure he would,” Spring said.

  I made myself some feverfew and raspberry tea, and while it was steeping, I made up a comfrey poultice using olive oil as a base and put it on my left arm, rebandaging it. I saved a bit in the bottom of the cup to put on when I changed the bandage again later. Though the police should arrive soon, there would be a long drive back to Portland, and I wanted a head start on healing before Tawnia saw me.

  I was relieved that there were no imprints on the dishes or utensils I used, or on the herb containers, though I hadn’t really expected any. These were mundane objects no one really cared about. I could almost pretend to be normal and that I was at Harmony Farm because I wanted to be.

  Scarlet paused in gathering used dishes from the table. “That’s a great talent you have.”

  For a crazy moment I stiffened, thinking she meant reading imprints, but she was only referring to the herbal remedies, which to me could hardly be called a talent. I’d mixed my own herbs with Summer from my earliest childhood.

  “I could do better steeping it a few weeks and then mixing it with beeswax and a little lavender,” I told Scarlet. “I make all my own salves, poultices, and lip glosses that way.”

  “I can’t wait for you to show us how. Now we mostly just wash and package herbs to sell. We’d have to buy the beeswax, though. That’s one thing we haven’t gotten into yet. We usually trade for our honey.”

  I nodded, my eyes drifting to the pile of bacon Victoria was bringing to the table. What I wouldn’t do for a piece—or ten.

  Scarlet laughed. “It’s mind over body, child. Don’t you worry. We’ll keep you busy. You’ll be proud of yourself once you’re finished.”

  I was pretty sure the
only thing I’d be was hungry. I felt as weak as a kitten.

  Classic cult tactics, I thought. Wear the people down, work them hard. Makes them pliable.

  “Open your mouth, Silverstar,” Spring crooned to her son. “Look, there’s raisins and honey. Yum.”

  Besides Victoria, Scarlet, Spring, a few remaining children, and the teenager washing dishes, we were alone in the large kitchen. “Where is everyone else?” I asked.

  “Working,” Scarlet answered.

  “On Sunday?” The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  “We make quilts and clothes on Sundays,” Scarlet said. “The women do. We take a break from the fields and crafts, but if we don’t do the sewing, we won’t have clothes to wear. We enjoy talking to each other.”

  “And the men?”

  “Out with the animals and taking care of other odd jobs. We’ll have a meeting later on all together.”

  Spring’s face glowed. “Did you hear? Founder Gabe’s back. We learned about it this morning while you were still sleeping. Aren’t we lucky?”

  At the stove, Victoria’s fork clattered to the floor. She tried to catch it but instead bumped the large frying pan and splashed hot bacon grease over the top of the stove. “Ow!” she cried, shaking burned fingers.

  “Gracious me!” Scarlet hurried to help her stick her hands under cold water, which at least was plentiful. I made myself stand and help clean up the black stove. It was really hot, and I wondered how much wood it ate—not that it mattered, since they had more old and dying trees in the woods than they could ever use. The children gathered around Victoria until Scarlet shooed them away.

  “Do you know a remedy for this burn?” Scarlet asked me.

  I stopped my cleaning and walked over to the sink to examine Victoria’s fingers. Red but no blisters. “First degree. Not too serious. But it’s going to hurt for a while. Best thing right now is that water to stop it from burning anymore. After the pain is bearable, I can make up a comfrey poultice to aid in healing. Vitamin E can help later, if you have some.”

  Victoria didn’t look at my face as I spoke, and I could feel her curling away from me. Scarlet frowned at her reaction but said nothing. I picked up a thick rag and went back to cleaning the stove, careful not to burn myself.

  “You keep those fingers under that water,” Scarlet said to Victoria. “I’ll go get some bandages.” I knew she meant the cloth ones like Victoria had used for my arm when she’d discovered me in the bathing room, and that was the best thing for her burn, so I kept silent.

  Victoria shook her head, darting another frightened glance at me as I approached to rinse out my rag. “I’ll go with you. There’s water there, too. And I don’t want a poultice.”

  Scarlet shrugged. “Okay, child, whatever makes you feel best.” But she raised her eyebrows at me as if to say, “Kids these days. Don’t know what’s good for them.”

  Victoria and Scarlet left, followed shortly by the teenager, who’d finished the dishes, even those left on the table by the children. No lack of work ethic here, not even in the young. Spring finished feeding Silverstar and washed her own dish. “I’m going to see what they’re all doing. You coming?”

  “I’d better put this food away so Victoria and Scarlet won’t have to.” I knew just the place to put it—in my stomach.

  Spring glanced down at what remained on the serving plates. The gaze wasn’t in the least covetous, and I gained a new respect for her. “Want help?”

  “No. Won’t take long. I’ll catch up to you.”

  As she left, I quickly dried my hands, already imagining the taste of the bacon. I grabbed three pieces and shoved one into my mouth.

  “Oh, yeah?” A woman’s voice drifted in from the hallway. “Well, I’m not too sure about that.”

  The woman was Harmony, and by the sound of her voice, she was heading this way. I’d be caught red-handed! What did they do with people who didn’t follow the rules?

  Without thinking further, I yanked open the rather odd handle of the walk-in pantry and dived inside, pulling the door nearly closed after me. The door seemed to have some sort of spring, so I had to put my foot at the bottom to make sure it didn’t close all the way.

  “Did he say why he came back so early?” another voice said. Dar.

  “He missed me, I’m sure.” Harmony laughed. “Look, no one’s here. The children must be finished. Someone needs to put away this food.”

  I put my eye up to the crack in the door. She looked bright and rested, despite her late night.

  “It’s Misty’s duty this morning,” Dar said. “I wonder where she is?”

  “Oh, she’s not gone far, I’m sure,” Harmony said carelessly.

  Looking around me, I became aware of two things: one, I was cold, and two, I wasn’t in a pantry. It was a large refrigerator, with dozens of long, bed-sized racks, the top ones very close together. Many of the lower ones were filled with metal milk jugs and plastic food containers, but the upper ones were completely empty except for what looked like several clear bags full of fresh herbs. That explained the strange outer handle, but at least there seemed to be one in here, too, so I wouldn’t get locked in even if they noticed the open door.

  Harmony reached out for a slice of bacon and popped it into her mouth. “Oh, goodness,” she said with fake brightness. “I forgot it’s fast day.”

  Dar blinked several times. “Harmony, what if they see you?” One hand reached out to touch her, but she skirted out of reach.

  “Fasting’s a dumb idea. We aren’t a religion. We’re people working together and enjoying life the way we like it. When did that change?” Anger tinted her voice now.

  “Fasting bonds people. Helps us focus on what’s really important. You know that.”

  Harmony reached out for another piece of bacon, chewing it with deliberate enjoyment. Dar watched her, and I understood in that instant I’d been right about him. He was hopelessly taken with her. She could eat a full seven-course meal on fast day and his feelings wouldn’t change. I couldn’t tell how she felt about him.

  “You won’t tell,” she said. “And it wouldn’t matter if you did.

  I was here first. This is my home. I built it.”

  “I like you being here,” he said mildly.

  Harmony was unsurprised by his words. “Well, I’d better go find our newest members. Give them the tour I promised. I’m particularly interested in the new girl, Autumn. If what you say about her is true, we might have a new line of sales. Herbal remedies should go for more than the herbs alone.”

  I expected Dar to say something else about me and my ability, but he remained silent. I was glad.

  “I’d better put away this milk first.” Harmony’s hands went for the pitcher on the table.

  Clutching my remaining two pieces of bacon, I willed her not to go to the fridge. For something else to happen. Anything. I prepared to move from the door, maybe to pretend I was rearranging the contents of the fridge. Of course the moment I moved away, the door would shut, giving away my spying.

  “Oh, I’ll get that, Harmony.” It was Victoria, back to the work, even with her burned hand.

  Harmony’s brow creased. “What happened to your hand, Misty?”

  “Just a little burn. It’s nothing really. I’m fine. I’ll get this stuff put away.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  Victoria smiled at Harmony, a real smile of genuine affection. “I’m sure.”

  “Well, if you need me . . .” Harmony gave her a little hug, avoiding the injured hand, and left the room without giving Dar another look. He was watching her, though. So was Victoria, but her tenseness returned now that Harmony was gone.

  Dar nodded at her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was scarcely a whisper.

  “Let me know if you hear of anything strange,” he said. “We’re worried that someone might have come into the farm last night. Some of our patrollers were attacked.”

&nb
sp; “Attacked?”

  “Yes. So it’s important I hear about anything that’s odd or out of place.”

  Would she tell how she’d found me in the middle of the night? But Victoria only nodded, her voice apparently gone.

  Dar smiled at her. “I’m very happy with you, Misty. You’ve come a long way, haven’t you?”

  Again the nod. She was looking not at him but down at the chipped linoleum. Did she like this man? Or was she terrified of him? I didn’t know her well enough to judge.

  Dar left and Victoria relaxed. That is, until she opened up the refrigerator and found me busily reorganizing a shelf, two pieces of rolled up bacon having taken the place of my foot to keep the door open. The bacon fell out between us, uncoiling.

  Victoria stared at me, but neither of us spoke. I smiled sweetly, bending to pick up the bacon and toss it into the garbage can on my way out of the kitchen. Fortunately, my appetite was abruptly gone.

  I emerged from the kitchen in time to see Dar’s ponytail vanish into what looked like an office at the far end of the long corridor. I went the other way, not wanting to run into him just yet, though I wanted to talk to him soon. He hadn’t given me away to Harmony, and that meant I might be able to trust him. Besides, he had a right to know his brother had been here and that someone had killed him.

  I moved down the hall, the wood floor under my bare feet smoothed by many people before me. No splinters here or imprints, just smooth wood and some kind of waxy build-up. Voices caught my attention, and I followed my curiosity past the outer doors on my right to the room opposite them that I’d glimpsed on the way in. This room was larger even than the kitchen and held a dozen long tables, half of which were folded and pushed to the side to make room for three quilting frames that were in various stages of setup. There was also a large loom and several other machines I didn’t recognize. They weren’t kidding when they said they made their own clothes and blankets.