by P. J. Night
Nate sighed loudly. “Just cut it out!” he snapped. “Let’s focus on finding Bethany, okay?”
“What if she doesn’t want to be found?” Lily asked suddenly in a small voice.
The other three all stopped in their tracks, lost in thought for a moment.
“Yeah,” Nate said simply, fingering the ring, which was still halfway on his pinky finger. He seemed truly scared and very sad, all at the same time.
“What?” Lissa asked him. She could tell how far away his thoughts were. Maybe it was a twin thing, but she felt very close to him at that moment.
“Why’d she leave the ring?” he asked suddenly. “Why would she have left the ring in the sand?”
Everyone was silent.
“You guys seriously have no idea at all?” Nate asked the girls. “Come on.”
“We really have no idea,” Lissa said earnestly. Did he think they were hiding something from him, out in the woods with their friend missing and the sky getting dark?
But Nate had a look on his face that Lissa had never seen before. She thought that she knew every single one. They shared many facial expressions. But this one was brand-new, and it left her feeling cold and even more scared.
“Let’s go back,” Nate said simply. The way he said it, there was no arguing. Lissa, Olivia, and Lily had no idea why he wanted to go back, but they all turned around and walked quickly back to the house. Howard was there to ambush Lissa, who was first to walk in the door. She jumped.
“Thanks, Howard, for scaring the life out of me. Great timing,” she muttered. Then they all sat back down at the kitchen table and stared at one another.
Nate got up and left the room.
Nate walked into the guest area of the B and B, which he rarely did. He went into his parents’ carefully maintained historical library, which contained every book imaginable about colonial life and the history of Old Warwick. He and Lissa used to call it the “bore chamber.” But at the moment, he wasn’t the slightest bit bored.
He reached for the book that the Old Warwick Historical Society had published for the town’s recent four hundredth anniversary, a big coffee-table book with lots of old drawings, copies of historic documents, maps, and photos of the society’s collection, not all of which were on the display that Nate had viewed on their field trip.
The ring, the ring, the ring, he thought. Milady, milady, milady. Why did she leave the ring? He turned the pages quickly until he found what he was looking for.
A drawing of Lady Warwick’s ruby ring.
The same ring that was half on his pinky finger at that very moment.
The same ring that had been on Bethany’s hand when she was buried, and in the sand when she had disappeared.
We were told that Lord Warwick had everything of hers burned, Nate thought. But I guess he didn’t burn her ring.
The girls were still sitting silent at the kitchen table when Nate entered the room, holding the book. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.
“Sit down, Nate,” Lissa ordered. Now she felt as if it were her turn to take care of him. He obeyed, staring at the ring and unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
“Speak,” Lissa said sternly. “Out with it.”
“It’s my fault,” Nate said slowly. “I found the ring in the sand with my metal detector. I gave it to her on her birthday.”
“Nate, why are you obsessing about the ring?” Lissa said, trying to be patient. Her twin brother was really scaring her.
“It’s her ring,” Nate said softly and evenly.
“Um, right, when you gave it to Bethany, it became hers,” Olivia said, as if she were talking to a small child.
“Not Bethany’s,” Nate said. “Lady Warwick’s.”
“What are you talking about?” Lissa and Lily said at the same time.
Nate opened the book and pointed to the picture, holding his pinky finger next to the sketch of the ring for comparison. The girls crowded around to get a closer look. Nate’s hand trembled, and Lissa reached out to steady it. The three girls gasped as the realization hit them.
There was no doubt it was the same ring, down to the last detail.
The only sound in the room now was everyone’s shallow, steady breathing.
Then Nate spoke again. “I gave her the ring and she changed,” he said in a hollow voice. “That’s when she started acting jealous and possessive and sad and paranoid. Just like in that story right over there.” He pointed in the direction of the staircase in the other room, where the Lady Warwick story was framed.
Lissa shook her head. No, this can’t be right, she thought. “Go get the story. Take it off the wall,” she said weakly to Olivia. Olivia ran to the staircase and brought it back, reading aloud.
“‘Lady Warwick was a legendary beauty, with pale skin, emerald-green eyes, and ruby-red lips. It is said that she always wore her long black hair poker straight and parted precisely in the middle …’”
“Her hair,” Lily whimpered, tears streaming down her face.
“Her eyes were green today,” Lissa whispered.
“And she was pale from being sick yesterday,” Lily added.
“It wasn’t just you, Nate,” Lissa said, her tears now falling as well. “We gave her something on her birthday too. The red lip gloss. The red lip gloss that made her lips ruby red.”
“I bet it sealed her fate,” Lily cried.
Still Olivia went on. “‘Lord Warwick loved the sea and would often go on very long fishing voyages,’” she read.
“She hated it when I would go to the pier with my friends,” Nate said. “And today she was babbling about me going on a voyage.…” His voice trailed off.
Olivia continued, “‘While he was at sea, she worried about him and was also convinced he had a mistress, which wasn’t true. One day Lord Warwick returned from what was to be his final voyage to find Lady Warwick very ill. She was also very angry and claimed he had broken her heart by being untrue to her.’”
“Is this getting any clearer?” Nate asked in a fierce whisper.
Olivia remained calm. “Okay, there are definitely some similarities here, but we’re getting carried away. Even if the ring is the same, which I agree it appears to be, Bethany’s out there somewhere playing a trick on us. We’ll find her. Don’t worry.”
But then they all heard it.
Tapping and scratching. At the window. And it wasn’t stopping.
Everyone except Olivia screamed their heads off.
Lissa screamed the loudest.
“IT’S HER!” she shrieked.
Olivia spoke loudly over the screaming. “Calm down. Remember what Mr. Parmalee said. It’s a legend, remember? It’s meant to scare us. Your imaginations are running away with you!”
But no one could hear her over their screams.
After they stopped screaming, the four remained sitting at the kitchen table, staring at one another. That is, the girls stared at one another. Nate stared at the ring. They had been crying as they screamed, and now their faces were hot with tears.
Only Olivia continued to remain calm. “Come on. We’re going back out there to keep searching,” she said with authority as she stood up.
Lissa and Lily numbly followed her lead. She was acting like a parent or a teacher, and they were grateful, just as they had been grateful when Nate took the lead earlier.
Now the three girls stood and stared at Nate, who continued to stare at the ring.
“Come on,” Olivia said to him gently. “What are you waiting for?”
“The real question is, why are you even trying to find her?” Nate said. “She’s out there, for sure. But you’ll never find her.”
“If she’s out there, we’ll find her,” Olivia said, her voice beginning to show some signs of doubt.
“She’ll be out there forever,” Nate said, his tears falling onto the pages of the book. “You can wander this town all you want looking for her, but you will never find her. Bethany is Lady Warwick. Wandering brokenhearte
d. For all eternity.”
Lissa’s mom zipped up the back of Lissa’s dress and spun her around to get a good look.
“My baby girl, going to her senior prom,” Mrs. Carlson said, her eyes shining with tears. “I can’t believe how fast time goes.”
“Oh, Mom,” Lissa said. “Stop getting all senti-MENTAL!” They both laughed, and then her mom went downstairs, where Mr. Carlson was sitting with Nate on the couch. Nate was not dressed for the prom, because he was not going. Lissa had begged him to go, to bring Olivia as his date, but he refused. Nate seldom left the house, except to go to school.
Lissa had another look at herself in her full-length mirror and absently applied more lipstick.
She had a look at something else, too.
Tucked into the mirror frame was a photo of Lissa, Olivia, Lily, and Bethany with their arms around one another at their seventh-grade formal dance five years ago. It was a candid photo in which Bethany’s head was thrown back in laughter, as Lissa looked her way with an amused expression. Bethany was wearing that red dress of Lissa’s, and her long blond curls glowed in the late afternoon sun.
Bethany, gone forever.
Lily had moved away from Warwick the following year. She still kept in touch with Lissa and Olivia, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same after that day.
Lissa sat down on her bed for a few minutes with her face in her hands. It was the only way to stop her hands from shaking.
Then she stood up, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs. Mrs. Carlson looked up and said, “I’ll get the sparkling cider, as is our tradition.”
“Let’s wait till her date gets here,” Mr. Carlson said.
“Lissa and Teddy are just friends, remember, dear?” Mrs. Carlson said with a wink. Mr. Carlson laughed.
“Nate, do you think Lissa and Teddy might finally make it official and let the cat out of the bag that they’ve had crushes on each other for years now?” Mrs. Carlson went on, pretending not to notice that Lissa had entered the room. Lissa just rolled her eyes, used to the teasing from her mom about Teddy. She looked expectantly at Nate to see if he’d join in the fun.
But Nate just stared out the window.
Teddy arrived and told Lissa how pretty she looked.
“You kids look great together,” Mrs. Carlson said as Mr. Carlson snapped away. They convinced Nate to pose for a few pictures with his twin.
Amid the clicking of the cameras, the sound at the window was unmistakable. It was a sound Nate and Lissa had heard often over the last five years, but this time it was louder and more insistent.
Scratch, scratch, scratch. Tap, tap, tap.
Nate’s eyes met Lissa’s. After a moment, Lissa looked away.
Five years had gone by, and they had not grown used to it. Their parents had stopped reassuring them that it was just the wind, since their reassurances never helped.
The only thing that ever helped Nate was to put his hand in his pocket and touch the ring.
I’m sorry, milady, he thought. I’m sorry you can’t be here with us tonight. I’m sorry I can’t take you to the prom. Please believe me.
Scratch, scratch, scratch. Tap, tap, tap.
Nate was so lost in thought that he barely noticed that Lissa and Teddy were already out the door. Feeling a little dazed, he followed them out to the car.
“Are you changing your mind?” Lissa asked hopefully as she stood next to the open passenger-side door. “I know Olivia would love it if you would take her.…” Mr. and Mrs. Carlson also shot each other an optimistic look.
“Um, no, I’m walking down to the beach,” Nate murmured.
His dad gave him a concerned glance. “Want some company?”
Nate avoided his father’s eyes.
“No, thanks,” he mumbled. “I’ve got to do this alone.”
Shoulders hunched, Nate ambled down to the beach.
It was getting foggy and dark, and he couldn’t see so well.
The moon was full and shining brightly in the sky, but he barely noticed.
He walked to the crooked tree and turned toward the crashing waves, his sneakers covered in sand up to the laces. But he paid that no mind. A large black bird swooped near his head. He didn’t pay that any mind either.
He pulled the hood of his thick sweatshirt up over his head, stood in front of the roaring waves, and spoke softly.
“I’m sorry for all the days I went off fishing with my friends, milady. I’m sorry for every day I didn’t spend with you.”
His voice grew louder, and he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans to clutch the ring.
Nate continued, “I put away all your pictures, milady, and just kept this ring to remember you by. This ring that I slipped on your finger because I loved you so. But you were never the same after that.”
He paused, overtaken by sobs.
Please believe me, he thought.
After a moment, he gathered himself, held the ring above his head, and hurled it into the sea.
“Who-whoo! Who-whooo!”
Jennifer Howard looked up. Was that an owl? How could it be that late already?
She kept moving, but she could feel a nervous knot growing tighter in her throat. She knew she shouldn’t be out in the woods so late, all alone.
And yet she couldn’t turn back. It was as if something were leading her—pulling her even—steadily down the trail, the very same one she’d hiked with her five cabin mates earlier that day. Yes, there was the fallen tree on which Sam had somehow done a whole balance beam routine. And there was the amazing giant mushroom that her twin sister, Ali, had kicked. It lay there now, bruised and broken, and for an instant made Jennifer annoyed at her bunkmates all over again.
And then suddenly she noticed something she hadn’t seen before. Right there, where the trail veered right at the stone marker, overgrown with ferns and other twisting, gnarled weeds, another path went straight. It was much narrower than the Old Stump Trail, but it was definitely a path … and it was clear that Jennifer’s feet, at least, thought it was the trail she ought to take.
But where did it lead? The brush was so wild and dense that Jennifer could barely see where it was safe to step. Plus, whatever light was left in the sky was quickly draining away. There was nothing but eerie, ominous shadows ahead of her—and soon behind her, as well. She pulled out her compass to try to get her bearings. Her hands were trembling and she fought against her nerves to keep them still. She waited for the needle to steady and find its way north. It finally stopped and she discovered north was exactly the way that the trail led.
Hey, she thought, her mood suddenly brightening. Directly north was Camp Hiawatha, their brother camp across the lake! What if the trail was a shortcut to the boys’ camp? That would be the find of the century. Wait till she told the other girls! Now she had to keep going, she told herself, if only to see if the trail took her there.
She picked up her pace and pushed through the branches, trying not to get too tangled in the jutting roots or dead tree limbs. At last she burst out of the woods and into a clearing. She stopped at once and looked around.
The clearing, she could see, was about the size of a softball diamond and bathed in a misty, greenish light. The only structure was a lonely-looking, small log cabin that had to have been a hundred years old. The door dangled, cockeyed, from its hinges beneath a roof that looked ready to fall in. Of the two windows that she could see, one was broken and one was roughly boarded up. Clearly, nobody had occupied it for a very long time.
And yet it somehow didn’t seem empty.
Jennifer took a half step toward the cabin.
Then paused. Something didn’t feel right.
Her blood felt cold all of a sudden, as if her heart had turned to ice. I shouldn’t go any further, she told herself, backing up, and before she knew it she was running away. But wait! She slid to a halt and her head whipped around in search of the path. All she could see was a solid black wall of trees.
The trail had d
isappeared.
Plus, it was night now, she realized. Way too dark to see into the woods. The clearing was somehow still glowing, but all it around it there was nothing but shadows and she could only imagine what was in there, watching her. One step in the wrong direction could mean getting lost, or injured, or worse. And who knew how long it would be until someone found her. It could be too late by the time they did.
Okay. No problem, Jennifer thought, holding up her compass and trying her best to keep her head. South. That was all she needed to know.
But when she looked down, the needle was spinning. She guessed it was just her trembling hands. But no. Her hands weren’t shaking any worse than before. In fact, they were still, she realized. The needle was spinning all by itself.
Anxious, she tapped the side of the compass, but that didn’t seem to help. She gave it a shake and willed it to stop already and do what it needed to do. But the harder she stared at the needle, the faster and faster it turned. Jennifer listened and could even hear it making a tiny, frantic “whirr.”
Now her hands were trembling. Her whole body was, in fact.
“Who-whoo.”
Startled, she jumped. Then she closed her eyes and caught her breath. It was the owl from the trail.
“Whooo.”
Or was it?
She slowly turned back toward the cabin, not sure if her ears were playing tricks. Could it be that the call was coming from it?
“He-hello?” she softly called. She took another step into the clearing, and this time she didn’t stop. There wasn’t just something in the cabin. There was someone. Maybe that someone could help her find her way out!
“Hello?” she called again as she reached the door. She listened, but there was no answer. She waited and almost knocked. But then she noticed the broken window there right beside her. What if she simply peeked in instead? She leaned over. What remained of the glass was too caked with dirt and grime to actually see through. But the jagged hole would work, she guessed. She leaned in closer and peered through.
Was it?
