by Lynne Hinton
He was hurt or sick, that much she could tell, but whether he was not responding clearly and not able to stay awake because of a head injury or because he was hurt elsewhere on his body or if he had ingested something or been drugged, she couldn’t tell.
“Anthony,” she tried again, calling out his name and shaking him by the shoulders. “Anthony, you’ve got to wake up. You’ve been here long enough. Wake up! We have to get out of here.”
There was no reply and Eve’s concern was only growing.
“I … I’m sick,” he said softly.
Eve moved closer to him, leaning down to hear. “Anthony, what happened? How did you get here?”
“He … he …”
Eve couldn’t make out any words. He was mumbling.
“Was it John Barr?” she asked, remembering how she had followed the man out of Terrero.
“Did he poison you, Anthony?” Suddenly she thought that the man might have poisoned both the siblings and that not only had he T-boned her and brought her to this building somewhere near the road to Claunch, but that he must have brought Anthony here after killing Kelly and taking him away from the monastery. She remembered the blue cloak in his closet.
“Answer me, Anthony. Did John Barr poison you? Did he give you something?”
“Kelly …” He moaned the name of his sister, and Eve thought he was crying.
“I know, Anthony, I know. Kelly’s dead, but you and I aren’t. That’s why we have to get out of here.”
The monk moved a bit. His hands reached out. “Eve,” he said, sounding a bit more alert, a bit more like himself.
“Yes, Anthony, it’s me. It’s Eve.”
She felt him pull away from her. “Where are we?” he asked.
Eve held her left arm across her chest and sat up. “I don’t know,” she answered. “It’s some building or cabin, shed, I don’t know.”
“In Pecos?” he asked, looking around.
“No,” she replied. “John Barr brought you out here. We’re near Mountainair.”
“I … I feel so …” And he dropped back down again.
“Anthony, you have to wake up. We need to get out of here.” She shook him. “Anthony!” She pushed and pulled on his tunic, trying to get his attention, but he had become nonresponsive once again.
Eve knew she would have to get out to find medical attention for both of them, that Anthony wasn’t going to be able to help her. She also knew that if John Barr had brought them to that shed and left them there, he was more than likely coming back. What he intended to do at that point, she had no idea.
“Did he leave you anything?” she asked the monk, not really expecting an answer. “Is there any water? A phone?”
Eve slid her legs beneath her, rocked forward, and landed on her knees. She felt a sharp pain in her hip and stopped, taking a few breaths. She pushed up, getting her right foot, her ankle still tender and sore, squared beneath her, and by bracing herself with her right hand, she was able to rise to a standing position. Immediately she felt the room spin and she reached out with her right hand, touching the wall behind her. She steadied herself and waited. Getting accustomed once again to the dim light in the space, Eve took a good look around.
It was an old cabin, not unlike the one she had been in earlier, the one where John Barr lived out beyond the little village of Pecos. It was made from rough lumber, old, hand-hewn, and held together with some kind of sap or glue, which she could feel along the wall behind her. There was no window, only the tiny bit of light she had noticed before, a bit of sunlight coming from an opening above. With it, however, she could see there was a door at the other end.
Leaning against the wall and then stepping over Anthony, Eve slowly moved over to it. Her ankle hurt, probably sprained, she thought, and she limped to a position right in front of the door. She searched for a handle but felt none. She pushed, but it wouldn’t budge.
She pushed again. “Come on, come on.”
Nothing.
Eve closed her eyes and tried to think of how to exit, tried to imagine what would work, how she might open the door. “Sister Maria …,” she whispered and pushed again, harder this time. It did not open, but it did move slightly, giving Eve enough of a reason to push again.
With that final shove the door flew open. She dropped to the ground. Light flooded the room.
FIFTY
“Help!” Eve called out as she fell forward when the door flew open, catching herself just before she spilled out onto the ground. She grabbed the door with her right hand and was somehow able to remain upright. She felt the pain surge across her left shoulder when she pulled, but this time it was manageable; she didn’t feel as if she was going to pass out again. She wobbled, but once she got her bearings, she was able to look around as she squinted against what appeared to be the late-afternoon sun.
Only able to open one eye, she searched from side to side, trying to locate herself, trying to figure out where she and Anthony had been kidnapped and left, but nothing was familiar. The barren landscape, the cloudless blue sky, the hardscrabble plains could be anyplace in New Mexico, she thought.
Within a few minutes, however, she recalled where she had been when she was rammed by the other vehicle and made the assumption that she must be somewhere close to the Salinas National Monument. She guessed that John Barr had crashed into her while she was driving down the dirt road to Claunch, dragged her from her vehicle, and driven her someplace close by, to this one-room cabin he’d built on property he owned or leased.
“Help!” she called out again, wishing there was someone in the vicinity who might hear her. “Help me!”
There was only silence.
She turned back to the shed and limped in. As she stood at the entry, she looked for water or food, any supplies that might have been left by Barr in the cabin. Much to her surprise, in a far corner just beyond where she had lain, there were several bottles of water, a couple of towels, even what appeared to be snacks of some kind. If she had only turned to the other side when she woke up, she realized, she would have seen them, and learning this made her wonder about Barr’s true intentions. These necessary supplies had obviously been left for her or for Anthony, but it still didn’t make any sense.
“Is this from you?” she asked out loud, remembering the dream and the words of instruction that she was to take care of someone, the someone she assumed to be Brother Anthony. “Is this some divine gift?”
Taking the weight off her right ankle, she hopped over to the stash and gently leaned down and picked up a bottle of water. She drank too quickly, almost choking, and pulled the bottle away from her lips to catch her breath. When she felt settled, she took another long sip and then quickly moved over to the other person in the cabin.
“Anthony, here’s some water. Can you hear me?” She slowly knelt beside him, panting through the pain, and placed the bottle to his lips. “Anthony, wake up. Here’s some water.” Eve took the bottle from his mouth and poured a little on his face, hoping the shock of it would push him out of his sleep.
It seemed to work as she watched him groan and even slap at Eve’s hands. He reached up and wiped the water away but would not open his eyes.
Feeling more confident about the outcome, Eve splashed some more on his face. “Anthony, you have to wake up!”
This time he didn’t move.
She took another long swallow from the bottle of water; her thirst felt unquenchable.
Suddenly Anthony began to rouse again. “Who …” He glanced around, blinking and squinting. “Where …” He did not finish the questions he clearly wanted to ask.
“It’s Eve,” she said, hoping he had not lost his cognitive abilities and recalling that he had recognized her previously. “It’s Eve,” she repeated, trying to get a good look at her friend.
“Eve …”
Anthony shook his head, put a hand up to his forehead, feeling the spilled water. “What’s …” He raised up, taking in his surroundings.
“It’s water; here, take a few swallows,” she said and handed him the bottle, which he took and then sat up a little more.
“Wait, take it slow,” she said, taking the bottle away from him after he started to guzzle it. “Just a few sips, not too much, you might choke.”
He nodded and she handed the bottle to him again, which he took and drank only a little.
“I’m so thirsty,” he said.
“Yeah, I know, me too,” Eve replied, watching him carefully as he took another sip.
She waited before asking the questions. There were so many forming in her mind, so many things she didn’t know or understand, but she waited, trying to give him a little more time before she started the interview. She managed to get into a sitting position next to him and leaned against the wall behind her.
Anthony turned to her and stared. “What happened to you?” He examined her face, the puffed and swollen eye, the caked blood in her hair.
“I was hit,” she answered and could quickly see he didn’t understand. “My truck, I was crashed into.” She paused. “Last night or maybe a couple of nights ago, I don’t know. I’ve lost track of time,” she said, glancing down at her left wrist, realizing that her watch was broken, the glass shattered.
“What are you doing here?” he wanted to know. “Where are we?” He looked around the cabin.
“You don’t know?” she asked.
He shook his head and then winced, the movement apparently causing his head to hurt. He reached up, grabbing his forehead, and suddenly leaned away from Eve and vomited the water he had only just drunk and then collapsed once again.
“Anthony!” She shook him, but he appeared to be out of it once more. She felt his chest and, with the rise and fall, could tell that he was still breathing.
Not wanting to feel the pain in her hip and ankle again by standing, Eve slid back over to the supplies that had been left in the corner. She grabbed a granola bar, tore open the package, and began to eat. She was ravenous. She opened another bottle of water and drank almost all of the contents.
“What am I going to do?” She asked the question out loud, hoping the voice would speak to her again, hoping the pain might stop, hoping she would figure out how to call for help.
She finished the granola bar and turned her attention back to Anthony. There was no way, she knew, that she could carry him out of the cabin. There was no way that she could support him even if she could get him to wake up enough to walk out.
Eve understood that if she was going to get help, she was going to have to go without her friend. She would push the supplies closer to him and leave the water near enough that he could reach it if he woke up, but she was going to have to leave him there.
She folded the towel and slid back over and placed it beneath Anthony’s head. She put the water and granola bars at his right hand, just at the fingertips. She pulled down his tunic, which had gathered at his waist, and placed the blanket that had been underneath him across his legs.
She sat beside him and said a prayer for him and then slid back to where she was able to lean against the wall and push herself up from the floor. She stumbled a bit, kept her left arm close to her chest, trying not to move her shoulder, and limped to the door. She stepped out and closed the door.
Eve placed her hand on the door, closed her eyes, asked once more for the protection of angels for her friend, and then turned in what she hoped would be a right direction.
FIFTY-ONE
What if I walk for miles and find no one? What if I follow a path and run right into John Barr? What if I fall and can’t go any farther?
The doubts and questions were endless for Eve as she stood outside the cabin. She remained at the edge of the building, waiting, trying to decide what she should do. The pain was excruciating. She could hardly walk, hardly see, and she didn’t want to leave Anthony, fearful he might die while she was gone and also, although she didn’t want to admit it, fearful that she might die once she walked away. And yet Eve knew that to wait in the cabin, just to stay there and do nothing, was the poorest choice she could make.
She knew John Barr would be coming back; it only made sense that he had left them there but intended to return. He didn’t lock the door, so he must have thought she was too injured and Anthony too drugged to escape. Or maybe he simply knew there was nowhere to go, and in such a desolate, isolated area, no one else would come to them.
She didn’t know where the man might have gone. She imagined that if he planned to kill them both where he had abandoned them in the cabin, perhaps he’d left to retrieve an appropriate murder weapon. She also wondered if he had gone back to the scene of the accident to move her truck, tow her vehicle away so there would be no sign that she had traveled in that direction. Perhaps he was attending to covering any evidence of her whereabouts, and once those details had been taken care of, he would return to finish what he had started.
Eve glanced back at the cabin where she knew Anthony lay, still passed out on the floor. She had no idea what had happened to him, but she knew he wasn’t himself. He had been drugged or poisoned or was otherwise sick, and Eve didn’t know how long he had been in that state or how much longer he could stay that way. She assumed that John Barr had done that to him, that he had given him something harmful and left him in the cabin where she eventually found him. Surely the man she had followed from Pecos had done all of this.
And yet, she thought, if he had planned to kill Anthony, why is he still alive? Wouldn’t he already be dead and not just sick?
She thought about the almond smell she had immediately noticed from Kelly when she found her on the floor of her guest room and how she had not detected the same smell while in the cabin with Anthony. Still, she knew that didn’t really mean anything. It had been many hours since Kelly had been poisoned and killed; if Anthony had been given the same tea at or near the same time, he would surely also be dead. Even if he had survived that ingestion, Eve did not think there would be a lingering odor days after drinking the poison. There were so many questions about what had happened to Anthony and his sister and to herself, and all of them had to do with the man she had followed from Pecos.
She couldn’t understand what John Barr would have gained from killing three people, especially the one person he seemed to consider a friend. She knew he cared about Brother Anthony, and she knew Anthony cared for him. They were friends, the young monk had told her on more than one occasion. It didn’t make sense that he would hurt him so deliberately.
She knew there had been the theft of Sister Maria’s papers, but she had also seen how John Barr lived and understood that he did not appear to be someone who would be motivated by greed. Eve stopped. She was not getting anywhere with these kinds of thoughts. She shook away the questions and the fear of Barr. She knew it was useless to try to understand a crazy man’s motives. She knew it was up to her to get herself and Anthony the medical attention they both needed. And she took in a deep breath, resolving herself to do what had to be done, do what she had been instructed to do, “take care of him,” and she knew that the only way to do that was to leave him to find help.
Eve took in another deep breath and limped around the side of the cabin. She paused and glanced around. All she could see near her and in the distance was the barren brown earth and the blue of the sky. She look again to her left and noticed a stick leaning against the side of the cabin, and she limped over and grabbed it. It surprised her that it was just the right height, a most useful crutch to help her begin her journey. She took a few steps, leaning on it, and then stopped and once again offered a word of thanks for the divine gifts she was finding.
“Sister Maria, Mother Mary, Mama, whoever it is watching out for me, I thank you,” she said. “And
now if you’d just give me a sign of which direction to go, I’d greatly appreciate it.”
As she moved away from the cabin, she looked around again, still able to see with only her right eye, and something caught her attention just on the edge of her vision, just to the right, the east, she thought, since the sun was lowering on the opposite side of the horizon. A tiny smudge of blue showed itself emerging from the brown earth. Not knowing what it was and recognizing it as an unusual splash of color in the otherwise drab desert, Eve hobbled over to it. When she got closer to it, she could see that it was a small clump of blue flowers, a clump of flowers that were somewhat atypical for the southwestern land in late winter.
She leaned down to pluck one of the blooms, and as she held it in her fingers, she could see that it was the delicate petals of a bluebonnet, the state flower of Texas.
“Wait a minute,” Eve said, standing erect. She immediately understood the meaning of the flower. She needed no divine explanation about the azure blooms. She knew that the bluebonnets were said to be the sign that the Blue Nun had visited the Jumano Indians in eastern New Mexico and in its neighboring state of Texas. She recalled learning of the legend when she listened to a Franciscan friar speak about the Spanish nun’s gifts of bilocation. It was her way, the speaker had reported, to remind the native people that she had been there, that she had been present with them.
Eve realized that she was being given another sign, another means of assistance, because as she peered ahead from where she stood, she could see the small clumps of flowers marking a way east, denoting a path that she knew she should follow. Just like the pebbles and the tiny pieces of bread that Hansel used to help him and his sister, Gretel, find their way home in the fairy tale, the wildflowers, Eve understood, were marking the path she should take.
She leaned on the walking stick, following the small clusters of bluebonnets, moving farther and farther away from the cabin and Brother Anthony.
She soon grew thirsty and wished she hadn’t drank the entire bottle of water when she found it. Perhaps she should have taken the other one instead of leaving it for Anthony. She limped along, following the bluebonnets, glancing up from time to time to see if there was a sign of anyone on the horizon.
