He recognized one particular automobile as belonging to Mr. Pryde. He cried out with relief when the car pulled over and Samantha jumped out of the passenger’s seat. She dashed across the road, nearly getting run over by a passing automobile. Samantha ignored the automobile’s horn and, as she had so many times in Wendell’s dreams, threw herself against him.
“This is the happiest day of my life,” she said.
“Why?” he managed to ask, hoping she didn’t feel the sudden bulge in his pants.
“I’m going to find out about myself,” she said. Wendell tried not to let his disappointment show. The bulge in his pants faded away as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s so wonderful. I know how old I am now—how old I really am. And I know I’ve been to this place before.”
“That’s good news,” Wendell said. “I’m happy for you.”
“Where’s Prudence? I want to tell her too.”
“She’s inside the store.” Samantha released him and bolted into Designs by Suzie. Wendell followed her inside, wishing he really could feel happy for Samantha. He’d known this day was coming, but he’d never prepared for it.
Now Samantha would find out her real identity and leave Eternity forever. He wouldn’t ever see her again. He wouldn’t have the chance to tell her how much he’d come to care about her in the last couple years, not as a friend, but as something more. Every night before he fell asleep he saw her face and imagined what it would be like to kiss her full brown lips. He would never get the chance now.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Samantha knocking on a wooden door. “Prudence, are you all right in there? It’s me, Samantha. I have wonderful news. I’m going to find out who I am. Can you believe it?”
“That’s wonderful,” Prudence said through the door. She stifled a sob by putting the T-shirt to her mouth. She knew she should be happy for Samantha, but she couldn’t help worrying about what she would do now. If Samantha found a new home, Prudence wouldn’t have anyone. She would be as lonely as before Samantha had arrived in Eternity. “I’m happy for you.”
“Is something wrong, Prudence? Do you need any help?”
“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.” Prudence took off her jacket and then the turquoise maternity dress. She slipped on the mint green T-shirt, which fit over her stomach with plenty of room to spare. Then she held up the blue jeans, marveling at the crinkled material in the waistband that could stretch taut to fit her.
Despite the new clothes, in the mirror Prudence still saw a fat girl looking back at her. She would never be skinny or pretty and once Samantha found out her past, Prudence would be alone too. I should be happy for her, Prudence thought. Jealousy and selfishness are terrible sins. She wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to smile. She would thank Suzie for these clothes and she would be happy for Samantha.
She opened the door and turned so Samantha and Suzie could see how the clothes fit. Both of them gushed with compliments at the same time. “You look so lovely,” Suzie said. “I should take a picture of you for my catalog.”
“You’re beautiful,” Samantha said.
Prudence thanked Suzie and Samantha. She started for the door, but Suzie called for her to stop. She darted into the changing room and returned with Prudence’s jacket. “I wouldn’t want you to catch death of cold out there,” Suzie said. She examined the jacket for a moment. “This is a lovely coat. Where did you get it?”
“I made it,” Prudence said.
“You did? This is magnificent work. I know girls three times your age who couldn’t make anything half as good.”
Prudence blushed at the compliment, her heart almost leaping from her chest. She had received praise from Miss Brigham, Samantha, and Rebecca, but never from a fellow seamstress before. “Thanks,” she said. “That means a lot.”
“You have a very bright future ahead of you,” Suzie said.
Prudence continued blushing all the way out to Mr. Pryde’s automobile. After she fastened her seatbelt, she looked back at Designs by Suzie, imagining her name over the door. Then she thought of trying to live in this strange world on her own. She couldn’t do it. Not by herself.
Wendell slid into the seat next to her. Samantha turned in her seat to face them, a smile still on her face. “Isn’t this so exciting?”
Wendell and Prudence said anything. They both were trying not to cry about losing their best friend.
Chapter 16: Tea and Sympathy
Samantha shifted in the front seat of Mr. Pryde’s automobile, counting down the miles until they reached the Seafarer Bed and Breakfast. After nine years, she might finally be able to answer the question haunting her since waking up in Eternity: Who am I? So many years she looked in the mirror, squinting to recognize anything and coming up with nothing. Now the missing piece to the jigsaw puzzle of her past might fall into place.
“Not much farther,” Mr. Pryde said. He turned onto a narrow road overlooking the sea. Above, Samantha saw houses larger than Mr. Pryde’s tucked among ancient trees. “Almost nobody lives up there at this time of year.”
“Why not?” Samantha asked.
“The rich folks who own those go somewhere warmer until the snow melts. If you got money there ain’t no reason to grub around in the snow with the rest of us,” Mr. Pryde said.
“Oh. You must not like them much,” Samantha said.
“It don’t matter to me one way or the other.” He reached into his pocket for another cigarette. “They’re free to do what they want. Long as they don’t bother me, we get along fine.”
Samantha sensed there was more to the issue, but she didn’t want to press Mr. Pryde. The road wound up, the sea obscured now by trees. The automobile was plunged into sudden darkness from the shadows, Mr. Pryde’s cigarette tip the only light.
Samantha craned her neck back to look at Prudence and Wendell. They each leaned their heads against a window, a hand underneath their chins. “No matter what happens, nothing is going to change between us,” she said to them. “We’re always going to be friends, right?”
Prudence nodded, but Wendell didn’t move. Samantha would have to speak with him later to reassure him she would always care about him and everyone else in Eternity. Finding out more about herself would help her become a better person. That discussion could wait until she spoke with Mrs. Milton.
Sunlight exploded upon the automobile as it emerged from the trees. On a cliff above the ocean, Samantha saw a sprawling white house. “That’s it!” she said. Mr. Pryde nodded, but she didn’t need to be reassured. She recognized the bed and breakfast as though she’d lived there her whole life.
Mr. Pryde turned off the road, but couldn’t get much farther. The driveway was blocked with over two feet of snow. “Looks like you’ll have to walk,” he said. “You want me to come along and make sure you get up there all right?”
“I’ll be fine. Do you suppose Mrs. Milton is home?”
“The old lady hasn’t left this place since her husband died,” Mr. Pryde said. “In the summer I bring her fish for the guests. She’s kind of a strange old bird, but she ain’t bad.”
“Good luck,” Prudence said without feeling. Wendell said nothing. Samantha climbed out of the automobile and set off into the snow. The top of the drifts had frozen over with ice, making the journey more difficult. Twice she lost her footing, but managed to keep her balance. At last she reached the marble steps of the house and waved back to Mr. Pryde.
She reached up for a brass knocker in the shape of a bear’s head. Before she could bring it down on the blue door, the knocker was torn away from her hand. An old woman in a dark blue sweater and white pants that complemented the house’s color scheme stood in the doorway. “Hello there, young lady. I must say I didn’t think you would make it. The rest of your family is welcome to come as well,” Mrs. Milton said. She frowned at Samantha. “Are you going to stand there and catch death of cold? Come in, come in.”
Samantha followed her inside to a spacious parlor with
white walls and floors and dark blue furniture to match Mrs. Milton’s wardrobe. “I must apologize for the snow in the driveway. We don’t usually receive guests at this time of year. The boy who shovels my driveway is so busy right now he hasn’t gotten out here yet.” Mrs. Milton stopped to motion around the room. “This is the common area, where our guests are welcome to unwind. You will notice there is no television in this room or anywhere else. My husband and I believe a vacation should not be spent in front of the idiot box. If you must have one, there are motels along the interstate.”
Samantha tried to interject, but Mrs. Milton kept talking as she swept through the parlor and into an empty room with a vast marble floor. “This is the ballroom. During the summer we hold dances every weekend. As you may have guessed, the room is not in operation at the moment. This is the dining room. Breakfast is served at seven o’clock until nine o’clock sharp. Lunch commences at noon until two o’clock and dinner from five o’clock to seven. No exceptions. There is also tea at three o’clock, hosted by myself. Rosalie, our cook, makes the most wonderful crumpets in all of Maine—she came to us directly from England—but alas she won’t be here for another two months. I do have some tinned cookies in the pantry that will have to do—”
“Mrs. Milton, this is all very nice, but I didn’t come here for a room,” Samantha finally interrupted.
“Well now, young lady, why have you come here then? If you’re looking for a donation, I will be happy to write you a check, although you could have simply telephoned me instead of risking your neck in that snow.”
“I’m not here for a donation either.”
“Then, my dear, why are you here? I don’t suppose you’ve come here to rob me, have you? All of our money is safely put away in the bank—”
“I’m not going to rob you either. I just want some information. Miss Pestona at the antiques store said you might be able to help me.”
“Why didn’t you say so in the first place? You should not play games with a woman of my advanced years. Why don’t you sit down and I will see what I can do. Would you like any tea?”
Samantha wanted to reject the offer, but a chill in her hands and feet changed her mind. “I would love some tea.”
“Good. Go on and sit down. Here now, let me have your coat to hang up.” Samantha took off her coat, her cheeks flushing at the ill-fitting T-shirt she wore underneath. “That’s a good girl. I won’t be long.”
Mrs. Milton hustled away through a door, leaving Samantha to sit in a white wicker chair. She folded her hands in her lap, afraid to touch anything in a place this fancy. She closed her eyes, seeing this room filled with men in business suits and women in summer dresses. She sat at a table like this one and across from her sat Miss Brigham in her drab Eternity garments, her face tinged with green. Miss Brigham opened her mouth to say something, but instead Samantha heard Mrs. Milton say, “Is something wrong, young lady? This is no place to fall asleep. Here, perhaps a spot of tea will wake you up.”
Mrs. Milton set a porcelain cup decorated with rose blooms in front of Samantha along with a plate of butter cookies. The old woman sat down across from Samantha, in the place where Miss Brigham had sat in her memory. “Now then, young lady, what is it you would like to know?”
Samantha took a sip of her tea, savoring the warm, sweet taste. She swallowed and then said, “Miss Pestona said about nine years ago a woman named Samantha Young stayed here. She looked like me only older. In her forties, maybe.”
“Is this woman your mother?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Samantha said. The real story of course was too impossible for anyone to believe. “Do you remember her staying here?”
“Let me think. It’s such a long time ago. Samantha Young, Samantha Young.” Mrs. Milton squinted at Samantha as if searching for a resemblance. “Yes, I remember her. She didn’t stay here long. She paid in advance for a week, but she disappeared after a few days. Beatrice—one of our maids—complained of an awful mess left in her room. Poor Beatrice cut her hand on a broken liquor bottle and had to get five stitches. Am I to assume your mother abandoned you at a young age?”
“Yes. Did she leave an address when she checked in?”
“I’m afraid any such records are confidential unless you’re working for the police.” Before Samantha could protest, Mrs. Milton raised her hand. “In this case, you needn’t worry. Your mother didn’t leave us with any real information. The address on file is for a pizza parlor in Bangor. I suspect her real name is not Samantha Young, is it?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Young lady, I’ve been in this business for nigh on sixty years. I’ve seen more than my share like your mother.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, dear girl, the type of woman on the run from something in her past.”
“You mean like a criminal?”
“Perhaps. In any case, I wish I could be more helpful to you. If you don’t mind, all this activity has me feeling a bit worn. Let me show you out.”
Samantha left her half-filled teacup on the table, following Mrs. Milton to the front door in stunned silence. She put on her jacket and then heard the door close behind her. With it ended any chance to answer the questions haunting her.
Chapter 17: Second Impressions
Samantha trudged through the snow out to where Mr. Pryde’s automobile still sat. With each step, she cursed her naïveté. How could she have been so blind? The signs had been right there in front of her. She had chosen to ignore them.
“The night you came here, you were not trying to help Miss Brigham. You were trying to attack her. Out there, in the heathen wilderness, you were a murderer and a thief. You were a blight upon God’s creation,” Reverend Crane had told her. At the time she thought he was lying, trying to distract her. Now she knew he had told her the truth.
Samantha climbed into Mr. Pryde’s automobile. “How did it go?” he asked. She couldn’t say anything; she was biting down on her lip to keep from crying.
“Is something wrong?” Prudence asked. Again Samantha didn’t say anything. “Samantha—”
“Just drive,” she growled to Mr. Pryde. He pulled out of the driveway and started back towards Seabrooke. Samantha closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see her reflection in any of the mirrors. She knew what she would see looking back at her now: a cold, heartless criminal who preyed on the weak.
Weak like Miss Brigham. In her mind’s eye she could see Miss Brigham walking along the streets of Seabrooke in her homemade clothes, smiling and saying “Hello dear” to everyone she met. A woman as open and innocent as the child she was now on Eternity.
Samantha must have invited Miss Brigham to meet her at the Seafarer Bed and Breakfast. They had chatted over tea with all the usual pleasantries and then “Samantha Young” asked Miss Brigham to her room on some pretense. There, Samantha would drug Miss Brigham and rob her.
They went to the room, where Samantha offered Miss Brigham a drink—one laced with some kind of poison to knock her out. As Samantha waited for the drug to do its work, the door burst open. Pryde charged into the room, taking Samantha by surprise. She snarled like a wild animal, landing a kick that sent Pryde slamming into a wall, shattering the liquor bottle. From his jacket, he withdrew a vial of glowing liquid and hurled it at her. The vial broke over her face, splashing water onto her. She screamed as her body started to shrink within her clothes until she was a little girl staring up at Pryde in disbelief. “What did you do to me?” she squeaked.
“You’ll make a nice addition to my collection,” he said. He punched her in the face, knocking her against a wall. She sagged to the floor, the world going dark around her. From somewhere Pryde produced a sack. “This ought to hold her.”
Of course Pryde would have killed her and made her a part of his bone collection in the cellar, but sweet, innocent Miss Brigham intervened on her behalf, suggesting to Reverend Crane that Samantha could be of use. So instead of dying, her memory was
wiped and she woke up in Eternity as a ten-year-old girl.
She opened her eyes, no longer able to hold back the tears. She couldn’t go back to Eternity now. Someone with her past shouldn’t be in charge of other people. She was too dangerous.
The automobile wound its way down the road to the waterfront. She had to escape now, before the curse following her did any more harm to Prudence, Wendell, and the rest. She unfastened her seatbelt and then turned to face Prudence. “Goodbye,” she said.
Samantha opened the door and dove out of the moving automobile. She rolled to her feet and then took off running along the waterfront. She heard the automobile stop and Mr. Pryde shout at her, but she couldn’t make out what he said. It didn’t matter.
Through teary eyes she cut across the waterfront and into a line of trees. She kept going uphill, trying to concoct an escape plan. If she got back to the highway, then she could find someone to give her a ride away from this place. She didn’t care where she went from here, so long as it was far away from Eternity.
At the top of the hill she ran into a metal fence. Samantha scampered over the fence without difficulty, landing on a vast field with rows of benches rising on the far side. She hurried across the field, hoping Mr. Pryde hadn’t brought the automobile up here to find her. She didn’t relish the thought of hurting him, but she would to keep from going back.
Behind the benches, she found a square building with ivy crawling up the brick walls. What was this place? she wondered. “You there, what are you doing out here?” a man’s voice called out. Samantha turned to find a bald man in a blue uniform similar to Sheriff McCovey’s glaring at her. “Well, go on kid, the bell’s going to ring in a minute.”
Samantha started to protest, but the man added, “Get in there or I’ll have to write you up.” He pointed to a pair of wooden doors along the ivy-covered walls. Samantha didn’t understand why he wanted her to go in there, but she didn’t want to get in any trouble.
Children of Eternity Omnibus Page 41
