by Amber Kizer
My stomach dropped as we scrambled down into the cellar.
Please let Juliet be safe.
If I leave you with F. A. he’ll protect you. I’ll tell them you died in birth. I’ll tell them whatever I have to. Maybe someday you’ll know the truth.
—R.
CHAPTER 38
Juliet
“Are you sure?” I asked Nicole again.
“I heard a crash and a thump,” Nicole whispered to me as we tried to stealthily creep toward the closed door of the office.
“What did she say exactly?” The good news was Nicole thought maybe something had happened to Mistress. The bad news was Nicole thought maybe something had happened to Mistress and Ms. Asura had done it.
“Under no circumstances were we to disturb Mistress. I don’t know, it feels wrong. She made me repeat it back to her. And then she looked out the window at you and Kirian and swore. That’s when she went outside and called him back.”
Why didn’t Ms. Asura like me talking to Kirian? She was the one who brought the postcards and mentioned him to me during her visits.
“So they left and then you heard the loud thump?”
“No, yelling first, thump next, leaving last.”
Sure, Mistress disappeared. Often. More so than ever before. She left the house for obscure meetings and to gamble. She sequestered herself in her office or living quarters. But she always told one of us, and left a list of things to do that would take weeks to accomplish. Neither of us had been given our daily list and we knew from Ms. Asura that Mistress was still inside her office.
“Now nothing.”
We tried to get close enough, an inch at a time, to press our ears to the door. After minutes of silence, I straightened. “I think I better knock.”
“Let me.” Nicole tried to tug me away. The knocker might very well be beaten.
“I’ll do it.” I rapped on the wood.
Nothing.
“Mistress?” I knocked louder this time.
Nothing.
Maybe she’d fallen. Maybe she’d knocked a glass over and was being ornery. But normally she’d take it out on the knocker, not suffer in silence.
I tried the knob. Unlocked.
“Juliet—” Nicole warned.
I opened the door, held my breath, and peeked in. “Mistress?” I called softly.
I saw her feet sticking out from behind the desk. I rushed into the room. Her desk was in a shambles, like she’d fallen against it and cleared it in panic. Files and papers covered the floor in a blanket of triplicate.
I knelt down. “Nicole, call nine-one-one.”
Nicole was right behind me. “I don’t think so.”
“Mistress?” I leaned in by her face. Blood from a gash was already thickly congealed. Her eyes were glassy, her body painfully empty of life.
“She’s dead,” Nicole pronounced.
“But—” I didn’t believe it. I felt for a pulse. Nothing. “Oh my God.” She’s dead. I wanted to dance and sing and whoop it up. I wanted to cry. “What do we do?”
“We back out of here and go about the rest of our day. When the night nurse comes to check in, let him find her.”
“That’s cold.”
“No more than she deserves. Think about it. We start this now and Ms. Asura comes back and takes us all away, to heaven knows where. Let’s make the meal you’ve been itching to cook, and have a party with Bodie and Sema. Buy ourselves a little time.”
I nodded. It made sense. It felt like a reprieve, like a gift. “But—”
Nicole just waited, her expression daring me to break a rule.
“The hell with it. Let’s cook.” I smiled, and shut the door behind us. “Let’s bring Enid downstairs with us.”
Nicole smiled. “Great idea.” Yet another rule broken—no inmates hanging out with the guests.
I opened the door to the Green Room and glanced out the big picture window, then gasped.
“I’ve been watching it roll in.” Enid lifted a hand toward the window.
Nicole was two steps behind me. “What’s going on?”
I pointed. “Have you looked outside lately? Those are twister clouds out there.”
The sky was an ominous shade of pea green, with black clouds boiling on the horizon. “It was breezy when I was outside with Kirian, but not like this. Have you seen any weather forecasts today?” I asked Nicole.
She shook her head and turned her troubled gaze to the storm out the window. “It’s way early in the season.”
“Not too early. I remember the twisters in ’sixty-four. They started before Lent and didn’t give up until August.” Enid shuddered. “Spent more time in the cellar that year than we spent on the farmland. Do you have a cellar here, dears?”
Yes. But no. The storm cellar was used for storage and for Mistress. House legend said that long before us, a couple of teen inmates used it as a private place. The girl ended up pregnant and from then on inmates were told to huddle in the bathrooms when the sirens sounded.
“Would you like to go down to the kitchen with us, Miss Enid? Juliet is going to cook up a feast.” Nicole tugged me away from the window. The best place would be on the first floor, center of the house, just in case.
The old lady lit up. “That sounds lovely, but won’t we get into trouble?”
I shook my head with a tiny twitch of my lips. “Not this time. She can’t hurt you anymore.”
“She can’t hurt anyone ever again.” Nicole’s pronouncement dangled relief in my periphery. Can we really be free of Mistress?
“What are we waiting for?” Enid threw back her covers, but she couldn’t move her legs across the mattress, nor stay upright for more than a few seconds at a time. She collapsed back onto the bed. “Oh dear. I’m a bit weak. I think I’ll stay here if that’s all right.”
“Sure,” I said, though really I wanted to force her to come downstairs where we might be safer.
“We’ll bring the food up to you when it’s finished.” Nicole patted her hand.
“That sounds lovely. Then you can tell me all about the inspiration for this party.”
“Sure.” I started to follow Nicole from the room.
Enid called, “Why don’t you send that Bodie up here; he and Sema can keep me company. They were so upset earlier.”
Thunder cracked, shaking the house and the windowpanes in their casings. My heart raced with each lash of the rain. I’d never been in a storm this bad. I wanted to be scared and hide until it was over, but I didn’t have time to indulge myself.
I stopped. I hadn’t seen either of the children since I’d come back in. I turned to Nicole. “Where are they?”
Nicole shrugged, her eyes widening and her cheeks paling. She shook her head.
Enid blanched. “I thought they went down to you. They said they were going with you. I thought they went with you.” Her voice trailed off as the darkness rolled toward us. We were all thinking the same thing—this was not the time to play hide-and-seek.
“Bodie? Sema?” I called, racing down the hallway. “Where are you?” I had to yell over the hail bombarding the house like icy shrapnel.
Nicole darted up the rickety steps into the attic calling, “Bodie. Sema. Where are you?”
I tore down the stairs calling their names. Nothing but the storm screamed back at me.
Nicole met me in the kitchen. “They took their backpacks.”
My feet and hands moved in a fury of desperation. “Where’d they go? The creek? They ran away? That doesn’t make sense.” I checked in the cabinets and under the table just in case.
“They said they were going with you. Where did they think you were going?” The pound of hail and rain made a normal voice impossible to hear.
The house protested with the creaks and moans of a thousand ghosts. I wondered if it could withstand such a ferocious onslaught.
“I’ll check the spot where Kirian had the picnic ready. Maybe they went out there.” I grabbed a rain jacket.
“What about the creek? What if they climbed Bodie’s tree? They can’t swim. Nicole, what if they fell in?” I had to go out and find them.
“No, stay here.” Nicole yanked my arm as the tornado sirens peeled. The world dimmed, as if the power had gone out, but it was the storm blocking out light and turning the air a vibrantly ill green. “I’ll go. You get Enid to the cellar. Force her; you have to survive.” She opened the back door and ice was driven by the rain across the kitchen, soaking both of us.
The cold sweat rolling down my neck made my back itch.
“Nicole, you’ll get blown away.” I reached for her hands, trying to change places.
“No! I’ll go. You have to survive, then find Meridian!” she shrieked against my ear, though I barely understood her words. She wiggled out of my grasp and darted outside.
I tried to force the door closed, but the wind refused to yield. I gave up, knowing each second was precious.
The wind sounded like a railroad yard. The snap and crackle of branches, the sounds of car alarms and cows bawling in distress whipped under the cracks of the doors and through window seams.
I took the stairs two at a time, still calling for Bodie and Sema over the storm. Thinking, hoping, maybe they were simply hiding and scared.
I swung open Enid’s door and found her sprawled on the floor. With a cry, I knelt by her, gathering her weak frame in my arms.
With her lips pressed against my ear she said as loud as she could, “The sirens, they scared me.” She trembled in my arms. “I was trying to get to the cellar.” She’d twisted her ankle and already the skin was a mottled purple and black. “It hurts.” she whimpered. Her arm was bleeding where she’d pulled the IV needle and tubes out.
I shushed her, rocking her. “I know. We’ll get there. I have to pick you up.” I wondered if I was strong enough to make it more than a few steps carrying her.
Her cheeks wet with fright, she quaked. “I can’t make it, dear. You go. My Glee will keep me wrapped in her hands.”
“I’m not leaving you.” I’d been helpless to save Glee; I wasn’t abandoning her sister. I put my hands under Enid’s arms and whispered a quick prayer that I wouldn’t hurt her more than necessary. I hefted her upper body against my chest, dragging her weak legs out of the room and toward the hallway. I felt wind begin to ruffle the air around us as if the walls were growing thinner and intangible. As if the wind’s fingers unlocked the windows and opened the doors of DG to get into each tiny space, each nook and abandoned corner.
Fear pumped adrenaline through my veins until my heart raced and my fingertips tingled.
Branches cracked in the forest outside the windows. Debris hit the house, ricocheted off the roof. I heard a window crack and shatter somewhere downstairs. Trees fell with a shudder that shook the earth. A deafening roar sounded above me and I looked up, amazed, to see that a massive gust had pulled off a huge chunk of the roof. Wind whipped my face and rain lashed my clothes about my body. I knew we were going to die. We would be next to be picked up and tossed into the current of the twister.
Enid shouted, feebly pushing against me. I didn’t know if she was terrified or trying to tell me something. I didn’t have time to think; the wind sucked the air from my lungs and made it hard to breathe past this nightmare come to life.
My ears popped, but all I could hear was a train’s approach. A huge, angry train whistling right toward us on a collision course. I bracketed Enid against the wall, shielding her fragile frame as best I could. I prayed with everything I had for Bodie, Sema, and Nicole. I wished my life weren’t ending like this, but how could we possibly survive an encounter with a tornado?
A crack near us forced my head up to investigate. There, out of the shadows, a man who seemed to be made of midnight and steel strode toward us. I think I screamed.
Natural disasters confuse souls, and many will wander aimlessly without transitioning. The best a Fenestra may do is settle and comfort the dead while the living pick up the pieces.
Meridian Laine Fulbright
May 18, 1980
CHAPTER 39
Tens hesitated at the top of the stairs to Joi’s storm cellar.
“No!” I shouted up at him. “No! Stay!” I read the stubborn need written on his face. He intended to leave me in the shelter and go after Juliet. I felt like shouting “over my dead body,” but I didn’t think he’d appreciate my attempt at black humor.
“Come on, son.” Tony nudged him down the rest of the stairs.
I knew Tens could have broken the man’s hold on his shoulder. He was strong enough to push away and take off like he wanted to. But he didn’t.
I should have thanked him, for picking me. But I didn’t feel generous or lucky. Instead I felt pissed and cranky that he’d even considered leaving me in a tornado to check on another girl. Never mind her Fenestra status.
Tens pulled me aside and leaned down to my ear. “Merry, what if she needs—”
I felt his breath brush my cheek and stir my hair. My heart screamed “Mine!” Why didn’t he understand? Why did he force this? I yelled, “You’re my Protector, Tens. Mine.” It wasn’t that I wanted anything to happen to Juliet—I didn’t—but I’d lost too much already. I wasn’t giving up Tens without a fight. I curled my fingers into fists, my nails digging into my palms.
I pretended not to see the confused glances Joi and Tony shared.
Tens tried again to whisper. “I know that. But you’re here and safe. What if she’s not?”
“She’s been taking care of herself for this long.” Why did I have to explain this to him? Okay, so we’d been sent because she wasn’t doing a great job of that, but still. “I need you.”
Tens nodded, but his hardened expression made me regret my words.
Even Joi’s storm cellar was decorated with cheery florals, pillows, strings of funny lights shaped like sunflowers, candy canes, and cowboy boots. Like Helios but much cozier: only a dozen or so people would fit inside this outrageously decorated box.
I heard hail hit the heavy doors like a mob of crazy people beating to get in.
Tens sat down, far away from me, even in the tiny space, his arms crossed and his mouth pinched. Tony went to sit next to him.
Joi’s frown was questioning and concerned as she glanced between us. The lights blinked out completely. “Don’t move.” Joi flicked on a flashlight and then moved about the space, switching the knobs on battery-powered LED lanterns.
All at once, I felt like we were back in the caves in Revelation. Just Tens and me. Did he think about that time too? He’d been so sick, I knew he didn’t remember much of it. Would we ever get back to those caves? Rebuild Auntie’s house? Have a life together that was normal?
I leaned against the cushions and tried to tune out the surging sounds of apocalypse outside.
Joi tucked a fleece blanket around me and patted my hand. For once she didn’t ask probing questions.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
Tony and Tens spoke in hushed voices, Tens’s full of dark sighs and harsh consonants, Tony’s steady and calm.
“Have you told her that?” I heard Tony ask.
I perked up an ear, but didn’t twitch an eyelid.
“No. How?”
“Start at the beginning. It might help.”
“Maybe,” Tens said.
Tony wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Try.”
Joi’s cheery voice asked, “Would anyone like soup, tea, or coffee?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Tony answered. “How’s your family in this storm?”
“I’m sure they’re fine.” Worry frayed the edges of her voice. Joi wandered the room fluffing pillows and straightening knickknacks.
I sat up, realizing that these storms affected more than just Ten
s and me and Juliet. Self-centered much, Meridian? “Are your husband and daughter at home?”
“No, she’s back at college and he’s at work. I talked to him earlier and they were working in the basement as the storm approached. Tornadoes are par for the course in the spring. These are early, though, and particularly fierce.” She refolded the same blanket twice.
“How long do we stay down here?” I asked. The storm in The Wizard of Oz was the only tornado I was familiar with and that wasn’t exactly a documentary.
Joi untied and then made new bows around the necks of bunnies and bears. She sorted the tea bags by kind and then picked up a deck of cards. “Until the radio in that corner squawks an all clear or we hear the all-clear siren. It’s a good thing the restaurant wasn’t open quite yet, or we’d have more folks down here with us.” She seemed restless and caged. “Anyone up for a card game?”
“Sure, I’ll play cards with you.” I tried to smile, glancing at Tens and Tony’s animated conversation.
Joi rummaged in the corner chests for game supplies, muttering the names of card games under her breath.
Tens scooted over next to me. “I’m sorry.” His demeanor was purposeful and direct, but guarded.
“Me too.” I licked my lips and swallowed, not sure where to begin with an explanation of my jealousy. How do I put into words the fear of being abandoned?
“I need to tell you something first.”
“Okay.” I waited. I’d learned he needed to generate momentum to start sharing; saying much of anything could derail the whole process.
Tony passed Joi a note and they moved to a small bistro table and chairs across the room. It was as much privacy as they could manage without leaving the cellar.
Tens touched my knee with a tentative tenderness. “Before Auntie’s I lived in Seattle with Tyee. You know that?”
I nodded.
“The last time I saw my grandfather he’d taken me to his friend’s house.
“The friend was a cop. He left me there with a backpack and money. Said if he wasn’t back in the morning, I should open the bag. I was eleven.
