Children of Eternity Omnibus

by P. T. Dilloway

  He stopped walking. Finding her was probably not a good idea right now. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to hash this all out in her mind and cry out her feelings. If he found her right now she’d almost break his arm like before. When she came back tonight for the party, she’d be willing to listen.

  If only he knew what to say. He turned away from the highway, climbing uphill into the forest. The developers had wiped out much of the wilderness around the area, but there were still pockets of ancient trees and wild brush. He found a shady spot beneath one of the ancient conifers and started over again on his appeal to Samantha.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you and so thoughtlessly disregarded your feelings and opinions. I was wrong. I was stupid. You have to forgive me, please, because you’re all I have. Without you I don’t have anything. We’ll do whatever you want. I won’t go to college if you want. I’ll go live with the Amish if you want. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” he said out loud. This might sound too desperate, but he was desperate.

  His life without Samantha had been a dull, gray existence of studying and experimenting. Science and Nature were the closest he had to friends or lovers. Then she came along and brought color to his world. Red for passion, green for life, and gold for love. She added new dimensions that before he’d only read about in books or heard about in pop songs. All those dopey romance songs and ballads had seemed meant for other people, not him. He was destined to spend his life observing love through a powerful lens from afar. The moment she appeared in his bedroom by a simple mistake she shattered the barrier. He was no longer an outside observer; he was experiencing love first-hand. Science and Nature didn’t matter so much anymore.

  He didn’t want to lose her and go back to a life of grays. Whatever he had to do, whatever he had to say, he would. She was the only thing that mattered now.

  He continued sitting beneath the tree and revising his final, desperate plea for a stay of execution until it started to get dark outside. Prudence and Wendell would be arriving soon for the party. Samantha would be there as well. His last chance to make things right.

  He didn’t get far before a hand reached out to grab him and sling him into a tree. His glasses shattered against the tree bark so that when the hand spun him back around he saw only a dark blur. The hand struck him in the face, knocking him back into the tree. He touched the base of his skull, feeling blood. He sat on the ground, staring at the blood and lamenting that he would never see Samantha again. A boot kicked him in the face and his world went dark.

  He awoke sometime later to find himself on the floor of the kitchen. Someone lay on the floor nearby. He crawled over to discover the body belonged to his father. Dad’s eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t breathing. His skin felt cold to Joseph’s fingers.

  Then he saw the blood staining Dad’s shirt. He probed the area, finding a large gash in his father’s chest. He thought back to the awful night eleven years ago when he found Mom lying in this same position with an identical wound.

  “What’s the matter, déjà vu?” a little girl’s voice asked.

  Joseph turned to find Samantha’s cousin Becky standing in the doorway, dressed all in black and holding a blood-stained knife in one hand. “You. You did this. Why?” he said.

  “Why? They tried to replace me, that’s why. Him for me. They wanted a good child who did what they said and put up with their shit. He should never have existed!”

  “Becky, this doesn’t make sense.”

  “Oh no, I’m not sweet, innocent little Becky. I know it’s hard to understand, but I’m your aunt Veronica.”

  “Aunt Veronica? But Dad said you were—”

  “Dead? Almost, several times over. He on the other hand is dead for sure. Now I’d love to continue this family reunion, but there’s other things to do.”

  “You’re going to kill me too?”

  “No, my dear nephew. I have other plans for you.” A boy appeared next to her and then rushed forward to lift Joseph to his feet. He held Joseph’s mouth open as Veronica approached, carrying a tube of glowing red liquid. He screamed.

  Chapter 5: Baby Steps

  Samantha’s head pulsated with a dull ache. She couldn’t bear to even open her eyes. I’ll just lie here for a while, she thought. In a few hours maybe the headache would go away.

  She tried to remember what had happened. She remembered going into the Grey Oyster Pub, ordering a few beers, and then the rest grew hazy. She recalled the bartender looking frightened. About what she didn’t know. At some point she left the bar and crashed down onto a pile of netting.

  The netting must have been wet, she thought, taking note of how damp her legs felt. No, that couldn’t be right; the dampness was between her bare legs. Hadn’t she been wearing pants when she went into the bar? Oh God, what did I do?

  She put a hand to her head, feeling a long tress of hair draped over her face. No, that couldn’t be right either; she’d gotten her hair cut the other day. She brushed the hair back to touch a cheek bulging with fat.

  She opened her eyes. She held up a pair of tiny, chubby hands. She looked down at her stomach pressing against the white fabric of a nightgown. She pulled back the hem of the nightgown to find a dark spot on the mattress beneath her. I wet the bed, she thought. That hadn’t happened in eleven years. Not since she was little. What’s going on here?

  She examined the bed she lay in. Not a bed, but a crib with wooden sides fencing her in all the way around. A doll lay next to her; she recognized it as the one of her Prudence had made for Molly years ago. Overhead, a circle of stars danced on strings; the mobile Wendell had made for Molly when she was—

  A baby! I’m a baby. No, this couldn’t be right. She must be dreaming. This was all part of some alcohol-fueled nightmare. She pinched the flabby skin on one arm and winced.

  Maybe not an ordinary nightmare. Three years ago Joseph had given Prudence and Wendell a sleeping potion that caused them to hallucinate. In their dreams, Prudence turned into a sow and Wendell into a baby girl. That must be it!

  Joseph had concocted the potion and found her lying on the dock, passed out from a night of heavy drinking. He poured the potion down her throat, an evil grin on his face. If he couldn’t have her, then he’d kill her. What better way than for her to die slowly, shrinking into a helpless infant and then prenatal ooze? She had to get out of this crib and find her adult body as Prudence and Wendell had done.

  She wobbled to her feet, pressing a hand against the side of the crib for balance. Then she reached out to grab the lip of the crib’s side. She tried to push herself over the side, but despite her best efforts couldn’t get more than an inch off the mattress. She tried again, groaning and straining with her little muscles. She managed to get her booties another inch off the mattress.

  Exhausted, she collapsed to the mattress, banging her head against the side of the crib. The pain of this, compounded by her headache, brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t do it. She was too fat and too weak to pull herself out. There has to be another way, she thought. If she could find something to stand on then it would be easier. But in looking around the crib she saw only the doll and a blanket.

  “Hewp me!” she squeaked, her voice echoing in the crib. “Hewp me pwease.”

  Becky’s face loomed over her a moment later. “Mommy, what’s wrong? Are you hungry?” Becky sniffed the air. “Oh, I see, Mommy’s peed herself.”

  “Becky, hewp me. Get me out of here.”

  “Now Mommy I know you’re excited about today, but it’s not time to get up yet.” Becky reached into the crib, pressing the doll into Samantha’s hands. “You and your dolly go back to sleep and later you can go out and play.”

  “Becky, pwease—”

  “Mommy, if you don’t stop being so fussy I’ll have to give you a spanking. You go back to sleep right now, young lady.”

  “But, I’m not a baby—”

  “I know. You’re a big girl today. Three years old. That means I’m pos
itively ancient.”

  “I’m not twee—” she was interrupted by Becky reaching into the crib to pinch one of her cheeks until she winced.

  “I forgot how fat you used to be. You looked so much better then with those apple cheeks and dimples. I think this time I’m going to keep you that way. You’ll be Mama’s cute big-boned girl,” Becky said.

  “Becky, pwease, you have to wet me out. Joseph poisoned me. I have to find my body.”

  Becky laughed at this. “Kids say the darndest things.” She pinched Samantha’s nose with her thumb and forefinger. “Joseph didn’t do anything to you and I can assure you this is no dream. Remember this?” She held up a vial of glowing water.

  “The fountain. How couwd you?”

  “Oh, we’ll get to all that later. We’re going to have the whole rest of our lives together. Or the rest of your life anyway. I plan to live a good long time after I tire of you.”

  “Becky, you can’t do this—”

  Becky slapped her across the face. Samantha tried biting down on her lip in a vain attempt to keep from crying. Her face turned hot and then sobs broke through, wailing sobs. A baby’s sobs. Becky smiled down at her. “That’s right, go ahead and cry. Cry like a teeny-weeny little baby. A helpless little child. The days when you could tell anyone what to do are over. From now on you’re the baby and I’m the parent. And you’ll do what I say. Now, lie down and go to sleep.”

  Her face still burning with pain, Samantha lay down on the mattress, clutching the doll to her chest. Becky dropped the blanket over Samantha, pulling it up under her chin. “That’s a good girl. You’re a good little girl.”

  This is a nightmare, Samantha told herself. It’s a dream and any moment I’ll wake up. She closed her eyes, waiting to emerge from this terrible dream fully-grown and in her bed.

  She woke up later to find her thumb in her mouth. The walls of the crib loomed over her still. She sat up, waiting for Becky to lean down and slap her again. This time Molly’s face appeared above her. “You’re awake! I thought maybe you would end up sleeping all day,” Molly said. “My little sleepyhead, don’t you look so precious.”

  “Mowwy—”

  “Come on, sweetie, I’m sure you’re starving.” Molly scooped Samantha up, grunting as she lifted her out of the crib. Samantha recognized the cottage on Eternity, though now everything seemed so much larger.

  Molly carried her over to a highchair and set her down. She brushed hair out of Samantha’s face before tying a bib around her neck. “Becky is really sorry she hit you, but you’re going to have to learn things are different now.”

  “Mowwy, you have to hewp me. Get me out of here, pwease.”

  “I can’t do that. Becky would be furious. Now, let’s get you some breakfast before we go.” Molly set a bowl of oatmeal down in front of Samantha, whose stomach rumbled in response. “Here comes the birdie. Open wide,” Molly said as she brought the spoon towards Samantha’s mouth. The oatmeal tasted like dirt mixed with paste. She spat it out, some splattering onto the bib and the rest on Molly’s face.

  “Samantha, that wasn’t very nice. You don’t want to get a spanking, do you?”

  “It’s yucky,” Samantha said.

  “Now, sweetie, you have to eat.” Molly brought the spoon up again. Samantha shook her head from side to side, finally reaching out to knock the spoon to the floor. “Please, sweetie, try just one bite for Aunt Molly.”

  “No!” Samantha banged on the highchair and then clawed at the bib. “I’m not a baby! I’m not!”

  Molly picked her up from the highchair, pressing her close. She stroked Samantha’s hair and whispered, “I know. It’s all right. Everything will be all right.”

  The door banged open then. Rough hands snatched Samantha out of Molly’s arms. She cried out, reaching towards Molly, who only stood there with tears in her eyes.

  Chapter 6: The Makeover

  She squirmed in the grasp of the man carrying her, punching and kicking at him. None of her blows did any good. They’re going to kill me, she thought. She kicked and punched harder to free herself without any effect.

  They passed by the town of Eternity. She didn’t see anyone on the pathways or in the shops, though it was midmorning. What had they done to the others? she wondered. Were they too lying in cribs or had Becky and Molly gone so far as to kill them?

  “Hewp me!” she cried out. “Hewp me pwease!” No one emerged from the shops, church, or dormitories to her aid.

  I’m doomed, she thought. There was no one to help her and she was too little to help herself. There has to be some way, she thought. If she could get free, then she might be able to hide in the forest and make her way to the beach. She could take a boat to Seabrooke. Joseph could help her. He knew so much about chemistry; he would find a way to change her back.

  How could she explain this to Joseph? For three years she had told him the flimsy story of living in an Amish community up the coast with her cousins. If she showed up on his doorstep as a three-year-old child with some crazy story about the Fountain of Youth, what would he think? And after the way they parted, she wouldn’t blame him for slamming the door in her face.

  She didn’t need his help anyway. Wendell and Prudence were still in Seabrooke. Wendell knew almost as much about science. He could find a way to change her back into an adult. Then he and Prudence could help her stop Becky.

  She didn’t understand why Becky would do this. Was it jealousy because Becky should be as old as Samantha, if she twice hadn’t received a dose of fountain water? Or was it resentment at Samantha raising her like a child? Or perhaps Becky wanted to keep her and Joseph from going anywhere.

  None of this makes sense, she thought. Becky had been her best friend behind Prudence for nine years, until the accident three years ago. Then Becky had changed. She became a sullen and withdrawn child. Samantha attributed this to torture Becky received at the hands of Helena and Phyllis. She thought in time Becky would recover. Instead, she did this.

  Samantha thought perhaps she was to blame for this. If she hadn’t treated Becky like a child, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. In a way, wasn’t what she’d done been almost as bad as what Helena and Phyllis had done? Wasn’t mothering her almost as humiliating as playing dress-up with her and locking her in a cellar?

  She touched the cheek where Becky had slapped her. It’s too late for a simple apology now. Becky was too angry with her. She needed to get help and come back. Then they might be able to work things out.

  First she had to get out of this man’s grip. Punching and kicking didn’t work. There had to be another way. She saw the base of the man’s neck between his hair and collar. She shifted her body enough in his grasp to bite down on that spot of flesh.

  The man howled, his grip loosening enough for Samantha to squirt free. She fell to the ground, picking herself up and running towards the trees. As she reached the edge of the road, she was lifted into the air and spun around to face the man.

  “You aren’t getting away that easily,” David said. He rubbed the back of his neck and then smiled. “Those baby teeth of yours don’t do much.”

  “Wet me go!” she shouted, kicking at the air.

  “As you wish.” He threw her a good ten feet through the air. She landed face-first on the path, skidding a few more feet. When she came to a stop, she tried to stand, but couldn’t. “Well, go ahead. Get up.”

  Blood seeped from scrapes running the length of her arms and legs, staining the white nightgown red. Again she began to sob the mournful wail of a baby seeking her mother. She didn’t try to fight it this time. What was the use? She was a baby with a baby’s tolerance for pain.

  “You’re pathetic,” he said. “Look at you blubbering because of a skinned knee. Not so big now, are you?”

  As she lay on the ground, he came over and wrenched one arm behind her back. She howled even louder at this fresh pain. He seized her by the hair, forcing her head down into the dirt. “How does that feel? I’ve bee
n waiting seven years for this. Come on, now, say it. Say it and I’ll let you go.”

  Dirt filled her mouth and nose, cutting off air to her lungs. Her vision started to dim. I’m going to die, she thought. Good. Better to die now than to go on this way. Better to be dead than to let Joseph see her like this, so fat she couldn’t get out of a crib and so weak she bawled at the sight of blood. Better for him to remember her as a grown-up, as the woman who had loved him.

  Then David raised her head enough for her to cough out the dirt in her mouth. “Go on and say it,” he said.

  She sucked in a breath. Through wheezing coughs she said, “Uncwe.” She took another breath, but still he didn’t let her go. “Uncwe, uncwe, uncwe!”

  He smashed her head into the ground and then released her. She lay on the ground for several minutes until she could breathe normally again. “Pitiful,” he said with disgust. “To think of all those years I wasted following you because I was scared. Of what? This? This is what you always were underneath.”

  He picked her up off the ground, tossing her over his shoulder. She didn’t have the strength to kick, punch or bite him anymore. The words of surrender tasted worse than the dirt in her mouth. She should have let herself die instead of giving in to him. Then she knew the fountain water had changed her inside as well as out. She was a coward. This caused her to cry anew, albeit silently, for what she’d lost.

  David tossed her to the ground at the banks of the stream. “What did you do to her?” Becky said.

  “I gave her what she deserved.”

  “You should have waited until afterwards. I can’t have her looking like this for the party.”

  “So clean her up. What’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is you were supposed to bring her here and that’s all. Can’t you follow simple directions?”