Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy

by Brandon Berntson

  Saying it the way he did, Masie felt hopeful. It was simple. She was human, of course, prone to mistakes, as weak as anybody else. People weren’t naturally bad, were they? Wasn’t the issue still being debated? Was it really a matter of choices? She knew bad choices didn’t constitute a bad person. She didn’t believe that. Good people were easily ensnared, bogged down. People made mistakes. That was just the way things were.

  “He will answer you,” Jasper said. “Remember that. He answers all of us, maybe not the way we want, but in time. His time. His will is more important than yours or mine. And some people think your will and His are the same. That’s not a bad thought, either. Have faith, and He’ll take care of you. Of course, that’s easier said than done.”

  Masie nodded. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but she felt better. She felt…good.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you?” Jasper asked.

  Masie liked Jasper Bellows, his kind, courteous, open nature. He did not bulldog her with fire and brimstone. He talked with simplicity, letting her examine the things he said, and left it up to her to ponder, accept, or even ignore.

  “I just…think its weird is all,” Masie said. “Sadie. The Pattersons. I have a little brother, Seth. We don’t go to church. Mom’s always had her own philosophies, but I got to thinking, and…well…I’m not sure. I feel like I need something to hold onto. But I don’t know what’s out there. I want to know. I want to be convinced. But I don’t know if I can believe just like that. I just…don’t know.” Masie felt exasperated, frustrated with herself. The words weren’t coming out the way she wanted. “Everything seems so…simple,” she continued. “So complex at the same time. I know there’s something out there. At least I hope there’s something out there. I just can’t believe it’s nothing—that you die and there’s nothing left. Sometimes, I get these crazy thoughts, like I’m convinced people invented God and love because they’re too afraid of the idea of nothingness afterwards. I imagine it all the time, thinking about Him. I see it in Seth, something…I don’t know…magical. Special. Not because he’s a kid, but something else…maybe I’m not seeing it enough. How do I know the God you believe in is the God I’m looking for?” Masie took a deep breath. She didn’t know where all that had come from, but Jasper was smiling, beaming, in fact, from ear to ear.

  “I know how you feel,” he said. “You’ll do what you have to, if you really want to know. Maybe you won’t do anything. Be silent as you listen. Be calm. His feelings are of peace, virtue, and holiness. Pay attention to the way you feel, Masie. Follow it. If something feels good, go after it. If it’s bad, run as far as you can.

  “There’s only one God,” he emphasized. “There is only one Jesus Christ. It sounds to me, Masie, like you already know. You just haven’t had it explained to you. But you’re the one who has to take that step. You’re the one who has to do it.”

  Masie laughed. “Thanks. I feel better talking to you, Jasper. I really do. But I feel kind of silly, too. Coming to you out of the blue like this.”

  Jasper chuckled. “Here,” he said. He took a pen from his shirt pocket, a scratch piece of paper from his wallet—an old receipt, it looked like—and wrote something down. “This is my number and the number of the church,” he said, handing it to her. “In case you or your family need anything. You get a little more investigative or think you want to attend a Sunday, give me a call. Or just show up. We start at ten o’clock every Sunday morning.”

  Masie breathed easier and nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

  “Anytime,” he said. “My job is bringing home lost sheep. At least I try. Like I said, it’s not always easy.”

  Masie nodded and put the paper in her back pocket. She stuck her hand out, and Jasper shook it cordially. He was likable, and it helped.

  “Goodbye,” he said.

  “Bye,” Masie said. “And thanks again.”

  She smiled, letting him get back to whatever he was doing. Masie walked out of the parking lot, not the way she’d come, but out in front of the church and onto Main Street. Suddenly, she didn’t care if anyone saw her or not.

  Kids were still milling about school grounds. Jasper’s answers seemed vague, but they also felt right. She understood faith, at least, in a way she never had before.

  Pay attention to your feelings.

  She thought about prayer, getting down on her knees, and clasping her hands together with the conviction that God was listening.

  She had her doubts, but it did make sense. Trying it in class had produced results, hadn’t it? If the Good Lord had a guidebook, what else would it be but the Bible?

  Masie had a light spring in her step as she walked home. She had the crazy feeling someone was watching her and looked behind her, but there was no one there.

  She didn’t care. For now, she savored this strange, alien feeling moving through her. It took her a while before she realized it was peace.

  iii

  Rudy McCall—normally a good student, always getting A’s and B’s, his absences few—knew this year would be different. A gulf opened underneath him, a swirling vortex threatening to suck him under. He didn’t know what to think about life suddenly, let alone, his family. New hatreds arose for his mother, and a dark cloud of denial engulfed his father.

  Rudy ditched school on that Tuesday, the 30th of August. He couldn’t endure the feigned sympathy, the whispers. Monday had been hell. People pointing—that’s Rudy McCall—Sadie’s older brother, the boy who was killed. He wanted to grab them by their chicken necks and strangle the life out of them!

  Oh, Rudy, we’re so sorry about what happened…

  Even the teachers got in on it. It made him sick. Another day of unwanted pity, and he’d be crazier than his mother. One wacko in the family was enough, wasn’t it?

  How’s your mom and dad?

  He had an answer to that:

  Mom and Dad? Oh! Mom and Dad are just great. Mom’s talking to ghosts now. She’s in a world all her own. Dad’s lost, too. You gotta love ’em, right?

  His school year wasn’t off to the greatest academic start, but he didn’t care. His father would say it wasn’t wise to throw away his final year, as if he had any room to talk.

  At least I’m not throwing my entire life away, Pop.

  Everything seemed so futile.

  The Ellishome Gazette had printed an article about Sadie and the Pattersons. TWO MORE DEAD IN ELLISHOME, it read. The article had upset him, made him realize how unimportant his brother was to the rest of the world. It mentioned the recent death of the Pattersons and Sadie, only they’d spelled his name with a ‘Y’ on the end.

  That simple ‘Y’ had sent Rudy into a rage.

  You want to play baseball? You want to take a few swings! Sure! Let’s do it! Batter up!

  He was tired, his mother a demented mess, his father in denial. What next, he thought?

  Everything—his life, his family—even Sadie’s death felt like a cold, bleak lie.

  Had his family always been this weak, hovering on the edge of reality until darkness engulfed them? Had their perfect life been nothing but a façade?

  Rudy found solace ditching school that Tuesday and spent most of his time at the library again. But he was still confused. The books he read only added to his fury: missing family members, lost lives. It not only didn’t help, it had begun to sicken him.

  Visions of morbidity, cadavers, crime scenes filed his head, as though he were trying to see through the eyes of murderers. Maybe he had. Why did people kill after all? What was the purpose? Something in the brain, faulty wiring, a black soul? Was it a demon that had crept inside them? He wanted to know what had taken Sadie and why. What made them that way? Plenty of articles mentioned abusive upbringings and terrible childhoods. The list went on and on. Some merely talked about abnormalities in the brain.

  But the thought actually disturbed him, made him realize there were places he didn’t want to go. Today, while perusing tho
se books, he realized he was making things worse. It wasn’t helping anymore.

  Glassy-eyed stares, black and white photos, blood-stained clothes. Rudy stared at these images, burning them into his brain, trying to see something, another force lurking behind what appeared a completely normal stare. What was he looking for? A monster? The devil?

  Some looked completely normal, some absurdly lost. Others looked downright evil as if some malicious force were lurking behind their eyes. Rudy didn’t rule out the possibility of demons. Since Sadie had died, he was open to anything.

  Where do they come from? What makes them that way? Some of those killers even seemed to live completely normal lives. So what did it mean? That—quite simply—they came in all shapes and sizes, and from a million different backgrounds.

  Nightmares had been plaguing him for the last two weeks as well, most involving his little brother.

  Rudy tried not to think about it and shook his head. Something evil had kidnapped Sadie, lured him from his bedroom, then butchered him.

  He wanted to scream. He wanted someone to pay! He wanted judgment and vindication!

  Rudy had walked up the steps to the police department earlier that week after he’d left the library, grabbing the handle, but he’d paused before opening the door.

  What could he do?

  Nothing, he thought. He could point his finger, insult Sheriff Bimsley, but what would that accomplish, other than making a fool of himself?

  Rudy continued to think about Sadie, about Sammy Sosa, a pennant-filled bedroom, insanely hopeful in its pursuit of dreams.

  What God, he thought? What God could there possibly be?

  Around 3:00 p.m., he decided to head back to school as it was letting out. God knew why. What could he accomplish after the events of the day? And what was he doing here in the first place? School only fueled his anger, kids laughing, getting together, reminding him he had nothing to contribute.

  The weather had cooled, and Rudy McCall welcomed the gray clouds. They fit his mood. He was standing across the street from Centaurus High, watching students flock down the steps, across the lawn. Standing out of sight behind a tall elm, he watched the throng disperse, cars pulling away from the curb, groups of teenagers mingling. Someone honked at him as they drove by, but Rudy ignored them.

  The longer he watched, the better he felt about ditching school today. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t belong here.

  You’re doing the same thing as Mom and Dad, he thought. But in a different way. You’re doing exactly the same thing.

  He shut the thought out of his mind, and, instead, saw his nightmares:

  He was walking down a flight of dark, stone steps, a flashlight in one hand, shining the beam at the bottom of the stairs. Water dripped down the walls on both sides of him. The flashlight depicted streaks of blood on the wet, stone walls.

  The ground leveled out at the bottom. Rudy panned the flashlight back and forth. To his right, roughly ten feet ahead of him—slumped against the wall and wearing racecar pajamas—was his brother.

  But he was alive, or at least animated in death. A chuckle sounded, nothing at all like a little boy. Sadie turned, his eyes gouged out, and smiled.

  We’re so sorry about your little brother…

  Rudy shook his head. He was thinking about his nightmares when he saw Masie Auburn crossing the street, her ponytail swinging behind her, books cradled in her arm.

  He thought nothing of it until she stopped and looked behind her, checking to see if anyone noticed her. Or so it seemed.

  Rudy frowned, watching Masie as she made her way along the sidewalk in his direction, disappearing down Blossom Road, but not before taking another quick glance behind her. He wondered what she was doing.

  Still, he couldn’t help being curious.

  “Girl’s cross the street all the time,” he said, aloud. “It’s part of society.”

  The more he thought about it, though, the more he realized how much they had in common. She had a little brother, too. He’d come to Sadie’s birthday party last year. Seth had given him a model airplane, but the boy didn’t seem as if he wanted to be there. Rudy remembered feeling sorry for him. Seth had obviously been uncomfortable, spending most of his time outside the festivities, shuffling his feet and looking at the ground.

  What Rudy needed was someone to talk to.

  Like Masie.

  It was all he could think about suddenly. She’d understand. He didn’t know how he knew that, but he did. She would listen. She was only a year younger, but they had something in common. In fact, when Rudy thought about Seth, he thought about Sadie.

  He had the wild notion to follow her down Blossom Road, but resisted.

  His hatred for his parents vanished in an instant. Approaching her would be a long shot. She might even shoot him down, laugh in his face. But it wasn’t as if he were asking her on a date.

  Masie, I was wondering if I could talk to you sometime. About Sadie. About Seth. If not, just say the word, and I’ll walk away. I won’t bother you again.

  Maybe she wouldn’t believe him, but for Rudy, it was worth the risk. He needed someone to tell him he was normal, that he was okay. That he—Rudy McCall, despite his family, and what his family was going through—wasn’t crazy.

  And what if she does tell you you’re mad? What then, slugger?

  Rudy ignored this thought and nodded to himself, making a vow. He loathed the idea of how he’d appear: sappy, insecure. But what did he care? If she turned him down, he’d be in the same haunted frame of mind he’d been in for the last two weeks. What difference did it make?

  He’d catch her sometime in the next few days, maybe tomorrow. He’d have to attend class, endure the painful, unending questions about his brother, but he’d do it. He’d face the raucous, turbulent hallways for no other reason to catch Masie Auburn between classes. He’d live or die by her answer.

  iii

  How was she supposed to maintain friendships if they kept blowing her off? They hadn’t done anything together since taking Seth out for ice cream. Was she the only one willing to work on their friendships?

  As the days passed, Rheanna Goodwine grew more and more frustrated. Since school had started, they saw less and less of each other.

  Today was a good example. Why couldn’t Masie allow her to drive her into town? Where was the harm in that? Sometimes, she felt she was the only one making calls, trying to get them together. She understood Ellishome was neurotic with Sadie and the Pattersons, but did they have to put their lives on hold because of it?

  Rheanna felt she wasn’t good enough for Masie and Jeanie anymore.

  Typical, Rheanna thought. Very typical. Just like friends to want you around only when they need you, when it’s convenient. God forbid, I have needs of my own!

  Rheanna sighed, huffing and puffing. She could pretend she was fine, put a smile on her face, wave a cheerful goodbye, but inside, she was fuming!

  After waving goodbye to Masie, Rheanna acknowledged some boy who’d said something to her about a movie. She hadn’t caught his name, didn’t listen, and didn’t care. She bumped into Tina Ramsey, the captain of the cheerleading squad, when she turned around. Tina scowled, and Rheanna retreated back inside through the double doors, stomping down the hallways. She tried to appear as though she weren’t stomping, but she was. Students raised their eyebrows, watching her, but she wasn’t pay attention.

  Was she being dramatic, imagining it all? It was possible. Rheanna had a tendency to jump to conclusions.

  Maybe Masie and Jeanie weren’t distancing themselves from her. Maybe it was something in the air. What was she supposed to do, play canasta all night with her mother? The thought made her ill.

  Her mother was paranoid as well, not letting her go out after dark. Were Jeanie and Masie’s parents the same? Rheanna couldn’t ask to take the car out without hearing an hour-long lecture about coming home before it got too late.

  Rheanna stomped do
wn the hallway. Her sneakers made dull, thumping noises along the way. Kids still lingered in the halls.

  She wanted to date a few boys, go out on the town with friends, catch a movie occasionally. Lately, she couldn’t find five minutes alone with Masie. Jeanie was too busy flirting with every guy in school. She loved Jeanie, but she was such a tease!

  Rheanna used every ounce of strength to stay calm.

  Damn damn damn, she thought. Gosh gosh damnit!

  Stomp stomp stomp!—went her feet down the hallway. She wished they’d make more noise. She’d wear boots tomorrow! If anyone stood in her way, she’d kick the crap out of them!

  Rheanna felt she was losing her friends, and she was damn mad about it!

  She’d follow in her mother’s footsteps. Mother taught the principles of chastity and virtue early in Rheanna’s life. It was Mother who’d made Rheanna laugh at the jokes she’d heard about smoking, drinking, and sex. She had to find out about them eventually, didn’t she? She had her own road to travel, and it wasn’t the same as mother’s. In her own subtle way, she was rebelling.

  Virtue virtue virtue, her mother’s favorite word. Virtue and virtuous. How do you expect to drink and remain virtuous? Promiscuity is not what virtuous people do, Rheanna.

  Rheanna was tired of virtue. Sometimes, she imagined coming home, so she could say:

  “I lost my virtue, mother! Can you believe it? In the back seat of Dad’s car! Right on your favorite afghan! I lost my virtue! Had a drink and a smoke afterwards, too! How’s that? I think it’s virtuous! Or is it victorious? You get the picture.”

  Life could be worse.

  She was upset now for different reasons, and it wasn’t because of her mother that she was stomping down the halls.

  “That’s just too damn bad,” she muttered, and managed to giggle, despite how upset she’d been.

  Rheanna didn’t swear often. It wasn’t part of her virtuous upbringing. Her mother brought her up not to swear. ‘Damn’ shouldn’t be considered a curse word anyway, Rheanna thought. Was that why it was on television so much?