by Jane Toombs
When she woke the light in the room was dim, and she wondered if she’d slept away the whole day. But when she pushed aside the curtain and looked out she saw greyness against the window. Fog? she thought. Fog this far from the ocean?
“They call them tule fogs,” Lydia told her later, as they sat in the kitchen. “You know, the tules are those big reeds that grow where it’s wet.”
Danica shook her head.
“Well, you’ll see the tules. But the fog is bad sometimes. It comes and stays for days and you feel like you’ll never see the sun again. Depressing. This is early in the winter for a tule fog, though, so it shouldn’t last.”
“I hope not,” Danica said. “I’ve never liked fog.”
“Fred should be coming by with the kids. It’s nearly two o’clock,” Lydia said. She looked around at the kitchen walls. “I suppose the room will have to be painted.”
“I think I’ll check with Evan,” Danica said, getting to her feet. “I’m supposed to work with Amy.”
Danica stepped outside into a grey, alien world. The fog seemed to press against her, to seep into her lungs until she felt suffocated. All landmarks were hidden. She could see the path beneath her feet, but not where it went. She blundered into a boulder once, slipped on the downhill edge of the path another time, and had to scramble to regain footing. Twice she heard voices but saw no one, couldn’t even tell where the sound came from.
That’s how it is at Star-Fire, she thought. There’s a wrongness hiding in a fog of deceit. I know it’s there, but I can’t see what’s wrong. Is it just Melantha and Amy? She shook her head. I must find out, she told herself.
But how? I’ll talk to Galt, she decided. Maybe if I know all there is to know about Amy, about her past and what’s happened to her here…
She knocked on Galt’s door, but there was no answer. On impulse she turned the knob and entered the unlocked house. “We don’t lock our doors here,” Lydia had said. Anyone could have come in and started the fire. Melantha. Amy. No, no, not Amy…
But Amy is disturbed. Afraid. She knew about the fire beforehand. Or said she did.
Danica shook her head again. Facts were what she needed, not speculation. She looked into the kitchen and the living room. “Galt?” she called tentatively. There was no one in the house.
Galt had said he taped interviews about the children, but she wouldn’t be sure how to use his tape recorder and anyway, without his permission…
Maybe she should come back later. Still, here were filing cabinets in this room that must be his office. Danica hesitated. What was Amy’s last name? Something with a C—Carter, was that it? Danica found the C drawer and began searching for Amy’s folder. Carsen, Amy. Yes, her name was Carsen.
Quickly pulling out the manila folder, Danica laid it on the desk and opened it. She read through the brief history, which offered little more information about Amy’s parents’ tragic death than Galt had already told her. But there was a color snapshot affixed to the sheet. Danica caught her breath.
A red-haired man and a woman with dark hair stood together in front of a huge white oleander. The man held a child. Amy? Danica thought so, though it was hard to tell since the girl’s face was partly turned from the camera. The woman had an angry expression, as though the picture had been taken against her wishes; the man was not smiling either. His red hair flamed even in the small photograph. Someone had written under the picture, “Amy with her parents.”
Red hair. Murder-suicide, Galt had said, and the typed paper confirmed it. Amy’s red-haired father had murdered his wife and committed suicide. And Amy had found them, and stayed with the dead until someone came to find her. Nothing in the written history said how long. No wonder Amy was disturbed. But still frightened, three years later?
She’s not afraid of me, Danica thought. Even though I have red hair like her father. Something at Star-Fire has renewed her fear. It’s not all due to her parents’ death. Amy’s fear is an immediate fear. Something is wrong here. What is Melantha doing to Amy?
A door closing made her start. She stuffed the papers back in the folder and returned it to the file, feeling her heart pound and her face flush with guilt. She met Galt in the hallway.
“I—I came to talk to you,” she said. “No one answered the door and I—I came in to look for you.” She averted her face, hoping it didn’t look as red as it felt.
“Here I am,” he said.
She glanced at him, but couldn’t tell if he believed her or not.
“It’s about Amy,” she began.
“Melantha told me Amy wasn’t feeling well,” he said.
“Oh? I didn’t know. I thought Amy looked tired, but I didn’t realize she was sick. What’s the matter?”
“I thought you’d seen her. Isn’t that what you came to me about?”
“No. But I’ll go to Amy right away.” Danica started to edge past Galt, but he caught her arm.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Melantha feels you’re an indirect cause of Amy’s illness. Overexcitement…”
“That’s not true!” Danica pulled her arm away and faced Galt. “If anything is wrong with Amy, it’s Melantha’s fault. She is frightening Amy somehow. I’m not sure exactly how or why, but…”
Galt shook his head. “Melantha is too fond of the girl to harm her. The children love Melantha.”
“Amy is afraid,” Danica said stubbornly.
“Yes, I know she is. But not of Melantha. Her past…”
“Amy’s frightened of something here, never mind her past. And I’d like to see her now. If she has an infection, I’d want to call a doctor.”
Galt frowned. “Yes, I think you’d better have a look at her.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “But remember, Danica, too much emotional involvement with Amy can make you incapable of rational judgement.”
She looked into his eyes and saw the fire flickering in their depths. Again response leaped within her. His hand tightened and she took an involuntary step toward him. He pulled her close and their lips met. It wasn’t merely a pleasant kiss like Evan’s. When Galt released her she was breathless, and for a few seconds she couldn’t think coherently.
Galt touched her face. “Speaking of emotional involvement…” His voice was rueful.
Danica smiled faintly. “I’m sure it isn’t wise,” she said.
He took a deep breath and stood away from her. “We’d better see Amy,” he said.
Amy was in her bed at Melantha’s, in a room with two other beds.
“I’d like to examine her,” Danica said, glancing from Galt to Melantha.
“We’ll leave you alone with her,” Galt said, ushering Melantha from the room.
Danica knelt by the bed. “What’s the matter?” she whispered into Amy’s ear.
Amy opened her eyes briefly and shook her head. She didn’t speak.
“I’m going to examine you,” Danica said aloud, rising to her feet. “First I’ll look in your mouth, to see if your throat is red.” She kept talking as she went over the small body. But she found nothing abnormal.
Amy had opened her eyes and now watched Danica’s face. There were dark shadows under the girl’s big grey eyes.
She’s so thin, Danica thought. Her arms are like matchsticks. No, I won’t believe she started the fire. She saw the pleading within the grey eyes. I wish I could help her. I must help her and yet I don’t know how…
Danica opened the door and went to find Galt and Melantha.
“Amy seems to have a mild infection,” she lied. “I think she ought to be moved in with me for a few days, so I can keep an eye on her. If she gets worse, we’ll need to have a doctor see her. But right now watchful waiting is what’s necessary. I’d like to have her in a bed in my room.”
“I’m perfectly capable of looking after Amy,” Melantha said.
“Of course you are,” Danica said sweetly. “But I am a nurse and can watch for small changes that a layman might miss.” She turned to Galt.
�
��I’ll arrange to have another bed moved into your room,” he said to Danica. “But as soon as she’s better, Amy will have to go back with the other children.”
Danica nodded. Amy was being removed from Melantha’s house, that’s what counted.
“I’ll bring her over there, if that’s what you want.” Melantha spoke to Galt.
“No!” Danica’s voice was sharp and she strove to modify her tone. “I mean, why not let me take her to my house right now?” She moved as she spoke, heading for Amy’s room, where she wrapped the child in a quilt and carried her out.
“She’s so thin; she weighs practically nothing. It worries me.” Danica spoke the words without stopping. She opened the outer door and plunged into the fog, which had lifted enough so she could see the path and objects at eye level. But the greyness hung over her head, reminding her it was there.
Amy didn’t speak on the way, but her arms clutched Danica with a desperate fierceness. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” Danica soothed her. “You’re with me. It’s all right.”
The children were home and they gathered around Amy when Danica brought her in. She had to shoo them from the room when she placed Amy on her own bed, since the extra bed was not yet there.
“I don’t mind Maxwell,” Amy whispered to her after the door was shut.
“You don’t?” Danica was surprised.
“He’s different. He doesn’t like people either, not many of them. They make his head hurt. And he’s smarter than he acts, too, not really dumb, like I said.”
“Smarter?”
“Only he can’t use what’s in his head someway.” Amy made a face. “I don’t know how to tell you.” She had raised up on one elbow and now she sank back onto the pillow. “I’m so tired,” she whispered. Her eyes closed.
“Go to sleep,” Danica said softly.
Amy’s eyes fluttered open. “The—the amulet, the arrow,” she whispered, her voice so low Danica had to lean close to hear. “I hid it, it’s safe.”
Safe? Her arrow amulet? What did Amy mean? Why had she hidden the amulet? Danica bent over the child, but Amy’s eyes were shut and her breathing was slow and even.
Amy didn’t rouse when Evan brought in the roll-away bed. Danica closed the door on the sleeping girl and went into the kitchen with Evan.
He glanced around at the smoke-damaged room. “A real mess,” he said. “You still don’t know what happened?”
She shook her head.
“At least no one was hurt.”
“I’m going to lock the doors tonight,” she said.
“But if it was one of the children…”
“No. Maxwell couldn’t have started the fire. Nor any of our others.”
Evan shrugged. “Then who?”
She looked at him. Would he believe her if she said Melantha? Probably not. And maybe it hadn’t been Melantha. Danica pressed her lips together. No, not Amy.
“Evan, what exactly does Melantha do with the children? The same as you?”
“Well, no, we all use different approaches with the energy.”
“Have you seen her work with Amy?”
“You’ve got a real thing about that little girl.”
Danica persisted. “Have you watched Melantha work with Amy?”
“Look, you’re getting paranoid about this.” He put his arm around her. “Relax.”
She tried to smile at him.
“The fog’s lifted,” he said. “Let’s take a little walk before supper.” His arm tightened.
Danica pulled away. “I don’t want to leave Amy,” she said.
“That’s foolish. She’s sleeping now, what can you do?”
“I can be here.”
Evan stared down at her. “You really believe she’s that sick?”
“I’m not sure yet. Until I am…”
Evan rolled his eyes upward. “Ah, the pitfalls of romance with a nurse,” he said.
Danica smiled at him, a genuine smile. She did like Evan.
Back in the room with Amy after Evan left, Danica wondered if she was overreacting. After all, Amy was safe here in her house, in her bedroom, wasn’t she?
Then she thought of the scorpion she’d found in her bed the first night here and the search of the room last night. And the fire. Have I brought Amy into worse danger? she wondered. She was with me when the rock crashed down the hill. Is Amy unsafe when she’s with me? But what else could I do? I couldn’t leave her with Melantha.
Amy turned and mumbled a word in her sleep. Danica leaned close to hear.
“Safe,” Amy said with a sigh.
Was she? Perhaps Amy was dreaming of the arrow amulet that Danica had given her. What had the old man said on that morning in Arizona so many years ago? He’d used the same word…
“You must keep the arrow safe, for it is your protection, your guardian. You must keep the arrow for the day you will use it to defeat evil, for this is the reason you were born. You are the archer and the arrow your weapon.” He had gazed at her a long time. “You have been chosen, though the blood is thin. Still, the talent never dies.”
Twelve-year-old Danica had stared into the sad brown eyes and had almost understood. There was a link between this old man of the desert and herself, a blood tie that included her mother and the twice great-aunt whose death had brought them here.
“Not Indian,” her mother had said. But what were they, then?
“I am the last of the Watchers,” the old man had said. “But some of the genes live in you, I sense them. You must learn to use your abilities.” His voice had gained urgency. “Find them and use them, for no one may show you the way and the time you have is short.”
“I—I’ll try,” she had promised him.
“Look for the eyes of silver,” he had said. “Remember the arrow and the fire.”
Danica stared down now at the sleeping Amy. Eyes of silver. Grey eyes? She shivered. Was this the evil the old man had predicted?
Chapter Twelve
Danica slept fitfully, waking often during the night to check on Amy. The little girl tossed in her sleep and cried out, but the words were not intelligible. They both woke early.
“Do I have to get up?” Amy asked in a half whisper.
Danica rose and went over to sit on Amy’s bed. “Do you feel like getting up?”
Amy shook her head.
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
“No. Only I’m tired…”
Danica examined Amy’s face with concern. The dark circles were still under the grey eyes despite a night’s sleep. She pulled one of Amy’s lower lids down to check the color of the mucus membrane. Was the color paler than normal? Danica wasn’t sure. Anemia? And then a more frightening possibility—leukemia?
Danica made up her mind to have a doctor examine Amy.
“I don’t have to go to my lesson with her?” Amy asked.
“Her? You mean Melantha?”
Amy nodded.
“Not today.”
Amy sighed. “That’s what makes me so tired,” she said. “My lessons. I want to learn, but…” She sat up in bed and clasped her hands together. “But I’m scared.”
Danica put her arm around the small body and felt the rapidity of Amy’s heartbeat.
“What frightens you so?”
Amy pulled away and lay down. “I can’t—I’m not supposed to talk about the lessons.”
“Does Melantha know you can talk?”
Amy shook her head, and then her forehead crinkled in doubt. “I don’t think so, but she might. She knows a lot.”
“Amy, I want to help you, but I don’t know what’s wrong. Today we’ll go into town and have a doctor check you over. Maybe…”
Amy shook her head again. “I’m not sick,” she said. “It’s just the lessons. I’m always tired afterwards.”
Danica compressed her lips in frustration. What could Melantha be teaching Amy? Using the energy made one feel better, not worse. Amy seemed drained, as though Melantha took energy away from
the child. But that wasn’t possible. Or was it? Danica really didn’t know.
“We’ll see a doctor anyway,” she said to Amy. “I’ll talk to Galt.”
Galt made the arrangements, but it was Evan, not Galt, who drove Danica and Amy into Porterville.
“Hey, you don’t look that sick,” he said to Amy as the Star-Fire station wagon negotiated the turns and twists of the road.
Danica thought he was right. Amy looked more and more alert the farther they got from Star-Fire. Amy had silently insisted on sitting in the backseat alone, and now as she shifted from side to side to see out one window, then the other, she seemed like any child on an unexpected trip.
“I want the doctor to run a blood count,” Danica said in a low voice to Evan. “She seems unduly fatigued.”
He glanced across at Danica. “Sure you aren’t getting carried away? She acts pretty normal to me.”
Danica shrugged and turned away from Evan. Was she exaggerating Amy’s symptoms in her own mind? Was the child merely tired out from lack of sleep after a few late nights? After all, she did roam about at night. Am I trying to make her out to be sick just to get her away from Melantha? There’s no proof Melantha is injuring Amy. The lessons that frighten her could be harmless. Amy had come to Star-Fire a disturbed child.
Somewhat to Danica’s disappointment, Dr. Milford was a general practitioner, not a pediatrician. He asked Danica to come into the examining room with him while he went over Amy.
“She’s a quiet one,” he said. “I haven’t seen her before. Some of your children are pretty wild when they get in here. Afraid of doctors, I suppose.”
“Not any more so than any child,” Danica said.
Dr. Milford raised his eyebrows. “Well, mental disability’s not my field,” he said. “But this little girl seems all right, not a thing wrong with her I can find.”
“Would you do a blood count?” Danica asked.
Once again the eyebrows went up, but the doctor had his lab girl puncture Amy’s finger. “Don’t think we’ll find anything abnormal,” he told Danica.
And he was right. Amy’s hemoglobin was on the low side of normal, but it was normal. The white and red blood cells were normal in number and appearance, too.
