Children of Eternity Omnibus

by P. T. Dilloway

  “I’m over here,” Molly said. She crawled out from beneath a fallen tree covered with snow.

  “Sweetie, you shouldn’t play out here.” Mama Becky bent down to wipe dirt from Molly’s face. “You’re all dirty.”

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” Molly said.

  “It’s all right, sweetie.” Mama Becky took Molly’s hand and led her towards town. They went into the bakery, where Molly found traces of smushed apples still on the floorboards. Mama Becky threw wood into the oven until a roaring fire warmed the bakery. Then she turned to Molly and said, “I’ve got to make some bread for dinner. Can you be a big girl and get a jar of preserves from the pantry?”

  “I don’t want to go back there. Ugly Phyllis will be mean to me,” Molly said. Her cheeks burned at the memory of Mama Becky dragging her over there yesterday by the ear. Through tears, Molly apologized to Ugly Phyllis for hitting her in the head with the rolling pin and spilling the apples.

  “Next time you should be more careful,” Ugly Phyllis said. She patted Molly on the head and sneered at Mama Becky. “You should still let me give her a proper spanking. That’s what the girl needs if you ask me. You spoil her too much.”

  “It was an accident, Phyllis. Molly was only trying to help me,” Mama Becky said.

  “She should be put to work with the other girls instead of coddled like she’s something special. Just because she used—”

  “That’s enough, Phyllis. Molly’s already apologized. There’s no need to upset her about this any more. Good day.” Mama Becky scooped Molly up and carried her back home. Molly had stopped crying by the time Mama Becky put her into bed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Phyllis isn’t a bad girl. She’s been under a lot of pressure lately. Like all of us.”

  “I hate her,” Molly said.

  “I know you don’t mean that. You shouldn’t hate anyone.” Mama Becky read to Molly from the Bible, but the story of Jesus forgiving Judas even after Judas betrayed him did little to ease Molly’s hatred towards Ugly Phyllis.

  She never wanted to see Ugly Phyllis again. How could Mama Becky ask her to go back? “I don’t want to go,” Molly said.

  “Now sweetie, if you want to be treated like a big girl you have to act like one. That means forgiving people, even after they’ve been mean to you.” Mama Becky tousled Molly’s curls. “I’m sure if you go over there, Phyllis will feel badly about what she said yesterday.”

  “I don’t like her. She’s mean.”

  “You march over to the pantry right now and fetch me a jar of preserves. And no dawdling. Understand?”

  “Yes Mama,” Molly said. She slunk out the door and started towards the pantry. Why didn’t Mama Becky understand Ugly Phyllis would always be mean?

  Molly kicked the snow in front of the pantry door and then knocked. No one answered. She waited a minute before knocking again, this time as hard as she could. Still no one answered. Ugly Phyllis must be gone. Good.

  Molly pushed open the door and looked around the room. She saw only wooden shelves with jars of preserves and vegetables scattered about. She stretched out to grab a jar of preserves, but couldn’t reach. Behind the counter near the stairs for the cellar she found the stool where Phyllis usually sat.

  Before she could drag the stool over to get the preserves, she heard giggling coming from the cellar. She waited a moment and then heard a low moan. What was going on down there?

  Molly crept down the stairs to the dark cellar. “That’s nice,” Hateful Helena said. “No, don’t stop. Keep going.”

  “I thought I heard something,” a boy’s voice said.

  “It’s probably the wind. Come on, you’re almost there.”

  Hateful Helena moaned again. Molly reached the bottom of the stairs and ducked behind a barrel. She peered over the top and saw Hateful Helena naked on a table with her legs spread far apart. John stood between Helena’s legs. Molly gasped at what she saw before clapping a hand to her mouth.

  But it was too late. Helena and John turned in her direction. “Who is that? Phyllis is that you? You pervert, I said I wanted to be alone,” Hateful Helena said. Molly ducked behind the barrel again, quaking with fear. She didn’t know what had happened, but she knew it was something bad.

  “You said no one would see,” John hissed.

  “It’s just Phyllis. She isn’t going to tell.” Molly could hear their voices getting closer. She had to get out of here and find Mama Becky.

  Molly bolted for the stairs, scampering up as fast as she could. She heard footsteps charging behind her. She reached the top, daylight from the doorway striking her face. She came within a yard of the door before she was yanked back violently by the hair. She tried to scream, but a hand was pressed over her mouth. “You little brat, what are you doing here?” Hateful Helena said. “Take her downstairs.”

  John dragged Molly back into the cellar, shoving her against a wall. Then he turned to Hateful Helena and said, “What are we supposed to do now? She’s going to tell.”

  Molly curled up into the corner, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Hateful Helena knelt down and grabbed Molly by the chin. “You’re not going to tell anyone, are you sweetheart?” Helena asked. Molly shook her head.

  “I told you we were going to get caught. I told you we should have gone somewhere else,” John said.

  Helena turned away from Molly to hurl John’s clothes at him. “Go out to the forest until sundown. If anyone asks, say you were hunting. That’s what you boys do, isn’t it?”

  “I guess so, but I haven’t caught anything.”

  “Then go find something. Do I have to think of everything?” Hateful Helena kissed John on the cheek and then added, “Don’t worry about poor widdle Molly. I’ll deal with her.” They kissed again before John ran up the steps.

  Hateful Helena wiggled into her dress and then turned back to Molly. “You know it’s wrong to spy on other people, don’t you Molly? You’re going to be in big trouble when I tell your mother what happened. You don’t want that, do you?”

  Molly shook her head. “Good. Now, let’s go upstairs and pretend nothing ever happened. All right?” Molly nodded and took Helena’s hand. Mama Becky had told her before not to pry into other people’s business. She would get mad if she found out Molly had been spying on Helena and John.

  Hateful Helena led Molly up the stairs, where Ugly Phyllis waited. “What’s going on here? John ran out of here like his ass was on fire. What’s Freckles doing here?”

  “Molly’s been a very bad girl. She was spying on John and I,” Helena said. Molly looked down at the floor, saying nothing so she wouldn’t get in more trouble.

  “Oh shit, what are you going to do?” Ugly Phyllis asked.

  “Don’t worry, everything’s under control,” Helena said. She bent down to look Molly in the eye. “Molly, because you’ve been a bad girl you have to be punished. This is going to hurt a little, but you should learn a valuable lesson.”

  Before Molly could say anything, Hateful Helena pushed her down the stairs. Molly screamed as she bounced down the steps, landing in a heap on the floor. She cried out for Mama Becky before passing out.

  When she awoke, she found herself in bed with Mama Becky at her side. Hateful Helena stood near the door, her face red with tears. Mama Becky said, “Are you all right? You took a nasty spill. If Helena hadn’t found you—”

  “She pushed me!” Molly shouted, pointing at Helena. “She pushed me because I saw her and John in the cellar.”

  Helena cried even harder, but Molly didn’t care. Hateful Helena deserved to get in trouble for what she’d done. Molly hoped Mama Becky gave Helena a spanking right here.

  To her surprise, Mama Becky shook her head and said, “Molly, I’ve warned you about lying. I want you to apologize to Helena right now.”

  “I’m not going to apologize! She pushed me.”

  “Pushed her? I wouldn’t ever hurt her,” Helena said.

  “She’s taken quite a fall.
Her mind is playing tricks on her. I’m sure tomorrow she’ll come to her senses. Won’t you?”

  “She pushed me! Why won’t you believe me?”

  Mama Becky brushed hair back from Molly’s face to kiss her on the forehead. “Sweetie, I know you think Helena pushed you, but it’s just your imagination. She saved your life. You should be grateful to her.”

  “I hate her! And I hate you!” Molly leapt from the bed, shoving Mama Becky away as she ran from the bedroom. She ran into the forest until she couldn’t hear Mama Becky calling after her anymore. Only then did she realize how cold she was without a coat or shoes. But she wouldn’t go back. Not now or ever.

  Chapter 11: Seabrooke

  Samantha didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. She sat on the lumpy mattress, kneading the floral bedspread as she thought of what she’d done. She must have sounded like such an idiot to him, rambling on while her face felt hot enough to fry an egg on. She wanted to stop and bolt from the room, but couldn’t make herself stop talking. The words kept spilling from her lips until she finally managed to leave.

  The look of mortification on his face prevented Samantha from sleeping. The way his blue eyes widened behind his glasses, his full lips pursed, and his lean cheeks paled remained etched in her memory. Then there was that warm, husky voice that sounded so puzzled. And those compact, powerful muscles twitching with impatience.

  She wished she could go back down the hall to apologize, but he would already have gone to bed. Not that he would want to speak with a lunatic like her again anyway. He probably had a girlfriend—that must be why he was out so late—who didn’t get lost and ramble on like a senile old woman.

  The sound of Prudence’s snoring came through the wall separating them. If only Prudence were awake so Samantha would have someone to talk to about this. Prudence would pat her hand and tell her everything was all right. This wasn’t the end of the world and they still had more important things to worry about at the moment.

  None of this helped ease Samantha’s mind as Joseph Pryde’s face rose up before her eyes again. She bit down on her lip to keep from crying. He’s just a boy, she told herself. A stupid boy like all the others back on Eternity. Except none of the boys on Eternity had the same delicate yet powerful body. “I’m such an idiot,” she moaned. She pulled the comforter over her head, curling up into a ball for the rest of the night.

  She lifted the comforter hours later when she heard someone tap on the door. She fell out of bed in her hurry to answer the door, hoping to find Joseph there. Instead, it was only Prudence. “Mr. Pryde is making breakfast downstairs,” she said.

  “Oh, I’ll be right there.”

  “Is something wrong? You look tired. Didn’t you get any sleep last night?” Prudence asked.

  “No, not really,” Samantha said. “I guess I’m not used to sleeping away from Eternity.”

  “I wish we had beds like that back home. It was so soft, like sleeping on a cloud. And the sheets weren’t stiff either. The fabric on them is soft and flexible. Not like anything I could make.” Samantha couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Prudence this animated. Her friend seemed as excited as Wendell at the treasures they’d discovered.

  “We better get down to breakfast,” Samantha said. She followed Prudence downstairs, pausing at Joseph’s door, which remained shut. Maybe he’s already down there, she thought.

  He wasn’t in the kitchen. His father sat at a round table, reading from a wide sheet of paper—a newspaper—as he chewed a piece of bread. Meanwhile, Wendell studied a silver box, jumping when two pieces of bread popped out of slots on the top. Wendell plucked a piece of bread from the box, studying it. “Amazing. The bread’s toasted without any fire at all.”

  “It’s a toaster,” Mr. Pryde said. “It runs on electricity. Just about everything here does. Don’t suppose you kids have any of that where you’re from.”

  “No, sir,” Samantha said. She dusted off a chair before sitting down at the table. In the center of the table was a plate of eggs along with strips and round tubes of meat. She bit into one of the strips, crunching it in her mouth. Bacon, she thought. A delicacy never available in Eternity because Reverend Crane hadn’t believed in raising pigs. Prudence nibbled on a tube of meat, her face lighting up. She promptly helped herself to five more of the tubes.

  “These are good,” she said.

  “Don’t you have sausage?” Mr. Pryde asked. “That ain’t against your religion or anything, is it?”

  “Not exactly. We don’t keep any pigs.”

  “That’s a shame.” Mr. Pryde took a sip of black liquid from a cup. “What about coffee?”

  Samantha and Prudence looked at each other and then shrugged. “We don’t have any of that either,” Samantha said.

  “I don’t know how you kids can live like that,” Mr. Pryde said. “No offense,” he added.

  “None taken. We live a very simple life,” Samantha said. Wendell finished examining the toaster to sit down at the table and try some of the bacon and sausage. He and Prudence were soon racing to empty the plate. Samantha looked up at the ceiling and asked, “Did Joseph already leave?”

  “Nah, he’s not up yet. Either that or he’s up there tinkering with some experiment of his. I don’t know what he’s doing half the time,” Mr. Pryde said.

  Or he might be too horrified about last night to come down, Samantha thought. “He seems nice,” she said, looking down at her plate so Mr. Pryde couldn’t see her face reddening.

  “He’s a good boy. A lot like his mother.” Mr. Pryde folded up his newspaper, displaying a headline on the election results from someplace called New Hampshire. “What are you kids doing today?”

  “We have to go into town and get some supplies for back home,” Samantha said. “They’re expecting us soon.”

  “How long you figure this business of yours will take?”

  “I’m not sure. A couple days maybe.”

  “You kids are more than welcome to stay here until you’re ready to head out.” Mr. Pryde took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. “Unless you got other plans.”

  Both Prudence and Wendell stopped eating, smiles breaking out across their faces. Samantha didn’t need to ask them to know how much they wanted to stay here. Nor did she need more than an instant to make her own decision. “We’d love to stay,” she said. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

  “Of course not. Kind of nice to have company for a change. I’m sure Joey won’t mind either.”

  “I don’t know how we can ever repay you for everything.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I ain’t done nothing no one else around here wouldn’t do.” Mr. Pryde stood up from the table, his face turning red. “I best go out and make sure the car runs if I’m going to take you into town. If you kids want some fresh clothes, I got some in the hall closet you can borrow.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pryde,” Samantha said. Prudence and Wendell chimed in with their thanks. Mr. Pryde mumbled something and then hurried outside.

  Samantha opened the door to the closet in the hallway to find boxes stacked to the ceiling. She pulled down one box labeled ‘Shoes’ in black ink. The box was filled with women’s shoes of different types—pumps, flats, sneakers, and boots. Samantha thought of Jonas Pryde’s cellar on Eternity with its array of different shoes all taken from his victims. These, however, were all the same size. Samantha tried on a pair of sneakers, finding them tight on her big feet.

  She took down another box, labeled ‘Clothes’, finding it loaded with women’s clothes. She held up a black T-shirt with the word ‘Nirvana’ printed on it in blue. A pair of black jeans looked as though they would fit. She found a denim jacket like Mr. Pryde’s to replace her tattered coat. “I don’t suppose there’s anything in there to fit me,” Prudence said.

  “I’m not sure, let me look,” Samantha said.

  “We could probably find a tent and cut a hole in it,” Wendell teased. He blushed when Samantha shot him a dirty look. She
turned back to the closet, scanning the labels. Near the top she found one labeled, ‘Maternity.’ She took down the box, keeping the label facing away from Prudence, and pulled out a turquoise dress with a lacy white collar.

  She handed the maternity dress to Prudence, who held it up to her body. “It matches your eyes,” Samantha said. Prudence looked skeptical. “Try it on.”

  “What about me?” Wendell asked.

  “Look for a box of baby clothes,” Prudence snapped.

  Samantha read the labels until she found one that said, ‘Joe.’ She took down the box, opening it to reveal Joseph’s clothes from when he was a little boy. Samantha examined a T-shirt featuring a figure clad in blue-and-red swinging from a rope and the words ‘Spider-Man’ underneath. She wanted to tuck the shirt into her pocket so that something of his would be near her, but instead she tossed the shirt to Wendell along with a pair of blue jeans.

  Samantha and Prudence changed in the bathroom. To Samantha’s relief, the maternity dress fit Prudence with a little room to spare. Prudence studied herself in the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “I love it.”

  The clothes Samantha had chosen for herself didn’t fit as well. The shirt didn’t reach to her navel and the jeans ended at her calves. Still, unless she tried the maternity clothes she doubted she’d find anything better. As she teased her hair in the mirror, she wondered what Joseph would think of her now.

  They emerged from the bathroom to find Wendell looking miserable in his baggy T-shirt and jeans. Prudence hid a smile behind her hand. “You look fine,” Samantha said. She patted Wendell on the shoulder, bringing a smile to his face. “Come on, let’s find Mr. Pryde.”

  Mr. Pryde waited in a rusty silver car belching smoke. He tried to hide a grimace as Samantha sat in the passenger’s seat. “I remember when Laura and I went to that concert in Bangor,” he said, motioning to Samantha’s shirt. “Some jerk spilled beer on her shirt, so I bought her that one.”

  “I can go back and get another one—”