In the morning, the cellar door opened. Molly pressed herself against an empty shelf, fearing Helena and her friends wanted to continue humiliating Molly and Veronica. Instead, David stomped down the steps. “I found out what happened,” he said. “Helena and the others will be punished.”
“Are you happy now?” Veronica asked from her corner. “Is this what you do to the people you love?”
“I never loved you,” David said. “Get cleaned up and change into some decent clothes.”
When they arrived at the dormitory again, Helena stood there with Phyllis and the others, their heads cast down in shame. “I’m sorry we were mean to you,” she said. “I hope we can still be friends.”
Veronica said nothing. “You girls be nice or else,” David said and then left them alone.
Veronica glared at Helena a moment before taking her bundle of clothes and went downstairs to the sleeping quarters. “We have your beds all made up,” Phyllis said. “You two can sleep in that corner there with Annie. That way when you pee the bed the rest of us won’t be able to smell it.”
Molly found her pallet against the far wall, on top of which sat a stack of cloth diapers. Veronica didn’t bother to clear hers off before she lay down on the pallet and turned to face the wall, pulling a blanket over her head. She stayed in that position for the rest of the day. The other girls, even Helena, didn’t bother her.
Chapter 42: New Plans
Prudence sat on the sofa in the living room, knitting in front of the television. She hadn’t done any knitting or sewing in over a week, but her hands remembered what to do on their own. She watched her hands work, thinking gratefully, These are my hands. Not those awful hooves from her nightmare.
So far she had a square of blue yarn six inches wide. She didn’t know what the finished product would be. Spring would be here soon, so it didn’t seem practical to make a hat, scarf, or sweater. A coaster maybe, or a pillow. She didn’t care.
She looked around the living room at the dusty shelves and faded wallpaper. What about Mr. Pryde? He could use something new to brighten up the room. A new set of throw pillows for the couch might make it look as though someone still lived here.
The knitting fell from her fingers at this thought. Mr. Pryde was lying upstairs in a coma; what use did he have for throw pillows? He might never wake up again and she could only sit here playing with yarn. She couldn’t help Mr. Pryde or Mrs. Schulman or Samantha. What good was she to anyone?
Wendell came downstairs to find Prudence staring at a square of blue yarn in her hands. How long has she been like this? he wondered. What’s she thinking about? He didn’t know. Not even being a girl in his nightmare gave him any insight into the female mind. She could be thinking about Samantha or she could be reflecting on her nightmare or she could be thinking what a horrible mistake to have kissed him.
“Hello,” he said from the doorway. “I think I’ve come up with the potion we need.”
“You did? That’s wonderful,” she said, sounding more worried than excited about this discovery.
“I’m not sure if it’ll work,” he admitted. “There isn’t any time to test it. I can’t be sure what it’ll do, if it’ll do anything at all—”
Prudence crossed the room to silence him with a kiss. “It’ll work,” she said. “I trust you.”
From his pocket he took out two vials of an orange liquid. “There should be enough here to stop them. The hard part is they have to swallow it. I doubt they’ll do that on their own.”
“Maybe if we talk to Samantha we can convince her it’s for the best,” Prudence said. “There has to be some of her old self left in there.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. We can’t take that chance, though. We’ll have to find some way to trap them.”
Prudence put an arm around his shoulders. She steered him towards the couch. “You look tired. Why don’t you take a nap to get your strength back?”
Wendell shook his head. He couldn’t sleep. Not until they had stopped Samantha and Joseph and put an end to this whole nasty business. Then he might be able to sleep without worrying he might wake up as a girl or possibly not at all. He didn’t have the strength to fight Prudence, though, as she sat him down on the sofa. Sitting down for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt.
She picked up her knitting, the metal needles clicking together as she worked. “I thought I’d make Mr. Pryde some new pillows. Doesn’t that seem silly?”
“No, of course not. I’m sure he’d like new pillows. He could take one out to his boat—” Wendell stopped as the pieces came together in his mind. “I’m such an idiot!”
“What? What is it?” she asked as he leapt off the couch and raced towards the door. She followed him out to Mr. Pryde’s truck, where he picked up a corner of fishing net. She understood at once what he was thinking. “That’s a great idea,” she said. She frowned then at a glaring flaw in the plan. “How are we going to get there to stop them?” she asked.
“I should think that would be obvious,” Wendell said. He patted the cab of the truck. “We drive. Or, to put it more accurately, you drive and I navigate.”
“Me? I can’t drive.”
“You already did, more or less.” He took her hands and smiled. “This time you’ll be able to use your hands to steer.”
“That was a dream, Wendell. It wasn’t real. I could get us both killed.” She shook her head and turned her back on the truck. “I can’t do it.”
“Prudence, we don’t have time to find someone else to drive us and even then, how could we explain this? We can’t tell a complete stranger we need a ride to Pinecrest to stop our friend from robbing a bank.”
“It’s too dangerous,” she said. She turned back to him with tears in her eyes. “I don’t want to risk losing you so soon. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened.”
“We have to do this. For Samantha and Mr. Pryde and Mrs. Schulman and all the others back in Eternity. Please, I know you can do it. I believe in you.”
Prudence looked down at the ground, realizing she’d carried the knitting with her. Back in the living room she had wished she could do something to help, to feel useful. This was her chance. “I’ll do it,” she said.
The interior of Mr. Pryde’s truck looked different from the driver’s seat. She touched the shifting knob, the steering wheel, and the pedals to familiarize herself with the controls. It’s just like in the dream, she thought. Except I’m not a pig and I don’t have Wendell hitting the pedals for me.
Wendell took the seat next to her, unfolding a map in his lap. From Prudence’s gasping and the sweat dripping down her face, he knew she hadn’t gotten over her fear of driving yet. “You’ll be fine,” he said. He reached across to take her hand and give it a squeeze.
“Here we go,” she whispered. She put the truck in reverse, backing down the driveway at a crawl. At the end of the driveway, she reached for a pedal, but hit the accelerator instead of the brake. The truck lurched backwards, the tail end smashing into a tree and the back wheels hanging over the edge of a ditch. “Oh no,” Prudence said.
She leaned over the steering wheel, unsure of what to do now. Wendell put a hand on her back, trying to comfort her. He shouldn’t have forced her to do this. He should have found a way to make it so he could reach the pedals by himself. A real man could see over the wheel and touch the pedals without a booster seat. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is my fault. We’ll find some other way.”
Prudence looked up from the steering wheel. The sadness and self-loathing in his voice stirred something within her. “No,” she said. “I can do this.”
She shifted the truck into drive and then tapped the accelerator. The back tires tore at the edge of the ditch until finding purchase. Mr. Pryde’s truck lurched forward onto the road. Prudence steered it down the hill towards Mrs. Schulman’s house, keeping one foot poised over the brake and the other near the accelerator. The truck glided down the hill, mostly from the power of gravity, until it reached
the bottom. Prudence looked in the rearview mirror to see Mr. Pryde’s house above them. “I did it,” she said.
“I knew you could,” Wendell said. He pecked her on the cheek before she hit the accelerator to send them on their way. She navigated the highway with relative ease, gradually going faster at the prodding of impatient vehicles behind them. Thinking back to her ride with Mrs. Schulman, Prudence flashed her middle finger to each car that passed them.
They coasted through Seabrooke, along the main street that was alive with people on the sidewalks like any other day. No one seemed to pay them any heed, not even the police officer they passed by a café. Prudence tensed at the sight of the policeman, but kept both hands on the steering wheel and looked straight ahead. Even after they passed by, she expected him to appear in the rearview mirror to arrest her. She didn’t relax until turning on the road leading inland towards Pinecrest.
We made it this far, she thought. Now if only they could find Samantha and Joseph and stop them before it was too late.
Chapter 43: Breaking and Entering
Samantha squatted before the bathroom door, holding the mangled coat hanger steady in her hand. She inserted the flattened spoke of metal into the lock and worked it around, waiting for the click that would open the door. Nothing happened. She tried again with a similar result.
She glanced over at the bed, where Joseph still slept. She imagined the look on his face when he awoke to discover she could get them into the bank without any complicated drilling or breaking a window. She would show him the popped lock and then he would embrace her and tell her how much he loved her again.
She inserted the deformed hanger into the lock and tried again. The stupid lock still wouldn’t open. She threw down the hanger in disgust. She knew she could do this; she knew once upon a time she had done this. Where and when she couldn’t be sure, but she remembered the nerve-wracking anticipation in waiting for the lock to give, the vulnerable exposed feeling that someone would come by any second to stop her. Then came the giddy thrill of victory when the lock popped open and the door swung aside, defeated.
What am I doing wrong? she wondered. She held up her sleek, delicate fingers. These were not the long, knobby fingers that had opened those locks. Never before had she considered that in taking Joseph’s potion to become beautiful she might have lost something important.
“Fingers are fingers,” she said. It didn’t matter if her hands were pretty or ugly, they could still open the lock. She needed only to concentrate harder, to see the door opening in her mind. I can do this, she told herself.
She took the hanger in her delicate fingers and then closed the eyes. She felt rather than saw the hanger as she guided it into the lock. The inner workings of the lock revealed themselves to her, whispering their secrets.
Then she heard the familiar click. The door creaked open at her touch. She opened her eyes to make certain. I did it! she thought. She ran towards the bed, leaping onto Joseph. He groaned, but she smothered any other sounds with her kiss. “Guess what?” she said when she pulled away from him. “I did it. I did it all by myself without any help at all.”
“That’s great, baby,” he said. He sat up and looked around the room. “Did what?”
“I picked the bathroom door lock.”
“You did? Why?”
“Because, silly, I wanted to practice for tonight.” She took Joseph’s hand and squeezed it. “I can get us into the bank. I know I can now.”
“Not to rain on your parade, baby, but it might be a little more complicated than opening the bathroom door.”
“Joe, please, I want to do this. For us. I know I can.”
He considered this a moment and then said, “All right. We’ll give it a shot.”
“I won’t let you down. I promise,” she said.
“I’m sure you won’t.” He pulled her down to him, throwing the blankets over both of them.
As a last meal before the operation they stopped at the McDonald’s on the corner. Samantha would have liked to eat inside for a relatively normal dinner, but Joseph refused. He wanted to leave as little trace of their presence as possible. “If the police ask around, someone might remember us,” he said.
“So what? By then we’ll be long gone, right?”
“We’re not going in and that’s final,” Joseph said. Samantha fingered her left eye again as she nodded, knowing better than to question Joseph on a subject he considered final.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Instead of eating indoors, they took the bag of food to a driveway by an abandoned barn off the main road. Samantha tried to eat her hamburger, but found her stomach growing too restless to keep anything down. She contented herself with sipping her Diet Coke while Joseph wolfed down his Big Mac and French fries, his appetite not affected at all by their planned heist. She offered his food to him, which he accepted without thanks.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “We’ve got everything figured out. Every angle covered. It’s all going to work out.”
She nodded, but this did nothing to quell the riot in her stomach. Even her success in picking the lock couldn’t dispel all her worries about this operation. So many things could go wrong. What if she couldn’t pick the lock? What if the explosives didn’t blow open the vault? What if there was no money? What if the police showed up? she wondered.
After dark, Joseph backed up and started towards Pinecrest. The gas station and McDonald’s were still open, but devoid of any traffic. The rest of the town—including Pinecrest State Bank—had closed for the night. No one walked the streets. No police cars kept watch.
“This is it,” Joseph said. He kissed her a final time before pulling a black ski mask over his face. She bound up her hair and then covered her face with a black nylon to match the black overcoat she wore. They opened the car doors at the same time, she keeping a lookout as he retrieved the supplies from the trunk.
Once he had everything they needed, including the nitroglycerine, she approached the door to get them inside. First she found the wire for the alarm on the front door and used a pair of wire cutters to clip it neatly in half. Then she took the same hanger from the motel to begin work on the door.
Joseph crouched behind an empty box for flowers nearby, ready to give her warning should anyone happen by. Sweat beaded up underneath the nylon, dribbling into Samantha’s eyes as she worked. On her first attempt, the hanger trembled in her hands until it fell to the ground. It’s no different than the motel, she thought. She closed her eyes and thought of Joseph. She had to do this for him, so they could be together. Her hands steadied and began to work the piece of metal in the lock.
The lock clicked. Samantha opened her eyes and eased the door open. “Joseph, we’re in!” she hissed.
He scuttled over, slapping her on the back. “I knew you could do it.” As he pulled up his mask enough to kiss her stocking-clad face, the net dropped over them.
Chapter 44: The Snare
They reached Pinecrest in the late afternoon. Prudence drove past the bank to make sure Samantha and Joseph hadn’t already attempted to rob it. A part of Prudence kept hoping they would find Samantha—the old Samantha—standing on the sidewalk, waving to them. She would apologize for everything and they would tearfully make up before going back to Eternity. “They wouldn’t rob the place in broad daylight,” Wendell said. “They’ll wait until it gets dark and everyone’s gone home.”
“So what do we do?” Prudence asked.
“Let’s go back to the bank. I think I have an idea.” She parked the truck at the restaurant on the corner, not daring to try parallel parking on the street like the other cars. The scent of fried meat tickled Prudence’s nose as she got out of the truck, her stomach rumbling to remind her she hadn’t eaten in almost a day. No, she couldn’t let her gut interfere; they had better things to do at the moment.
Wendell stood in front of the bank, his face twitching as though solving a complicated equation. Prudence couldn’t help staring at him wi
th admiration. If only she could be so smart, but she only knew how to make clothes. “I think I’ve got it,” he said. He took her arm, leading her around the side of the building to the back. He stared up at the roof and then nodded.
She listened as he explained his plan for trapping Samantha and Joseph. If they show up, Prudence reminded herself. For all they knew, Samantha and Joseph could be hundreds of miles away in the wilderness of this strange country. She didn’t say as much to Wendell, knowing he would only try to reassure her that Samantha and Joseph would be here.
They went back to the restaurant to move the truck. “We have to stay hidden,” Wendell said. “If they see us before we’re ready, they’ll run.”
Prudence didn’t know where they could hide until it was time. She kept following the road, deeper into the forest until trees blocked out the sun on either side. Wendell said nothing. She wondered if he were doing more calculations. Perhaps calculating the astronomical odds of their plan succeeding.
The road started to wind upwards into the hills. Prudence gripped the steering wheel tighter along the curves, willing the truck not to crash over the guardrails. The road continued winding along until Prudence could see the hills, forests, and even the sea below. She imagined Seabrooke far to the east and beyond that, the island of Eternity.
Her eyes started to mist up until she had to pull the truck off to the side of the road. “Don’t cry, Prudence. Everything will be fine. We’ll find Samantha—”
“It’s not that,” Prudence said. “I was thinking about home. I miss Eternity. My shop and Rebecca and Molly and even Helena. It’s so far away now. What if we can’t ever get back?”
“We’ll make it,” Wendell said. “You’ll be back to your shop and we can go see Molly and Becky at the cabin.”
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