“Want me to parallel park?”
It’s getting dark outside, and the headlights are on. Mr. Meiners shakes his head and just tells me to pull up beside the building.
For a few moments, there’s only silence in the car. Mr. Meiners studies the outside, then clears his throat and looks over at me.
“I don’t know what to do about you, Chris.”
For a second I’m wondering what I did wrong. “Did I miss a stop sign or something?”
I can see the amused look behind his beard and glasses. “No. I’m talking about you. The situation you’re in.”
I don’t answer.
I’m in several different situations, to be honest. None of them is any good.
“Chris, I know about your family. Your mother and your uncle. About Staunch and Marsh looking after you.”
“Looking after?”
“Sheltering you.”
I let out a grim laugh, because that’s crazy. “I’m not sure I’d say that.”
“I would. For now. They’ve had tabs on you ever since you and your mom came driving in to town. Anybody who’s gotten close—well, they’ve either been forced to go away or they’ve had situations.”
“How do you know this?”
“I know.”
His eyes and tone of voice say he’s being serious.
“How?”
“Chris, you have to trust me.”
“I’m not trusting anybody anymore. I’ve had a bad habit of seeing it not work out so well.”
“Why do you think I’ve never managed to get close to you? They have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“What about now?”
“This car was just donated, and I just told Mason I’d help out. There’s no way anybody can hear this conversation.”
“So you know? Like everything?” I ask.
“I know enough. Enough to know that any slight slip-up means I might die. Or someone in my family might die. I’ve tried to reach out. I’ve sent notes to you before.”
“That was you?”
“Yes. But Chris—the thing you have to know is that there is something very powerful and very, very real going on here.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” Mr. Meiners asks quickly. “Do you really understand?”
“Well, no, not everything. But I know there are—bad things going on.”
Bad things going on?
That’s all I can manage to say. Because anything else is going to sound ludicrous.
“It’s a spiritual war, Chris. A battle over your soul. And the souls of the many who are here.”
I nod and shake my head. “I think—yeah. I’m kinda getting that.”
Mr. Meiners shifts in his seat and sighs. Once again he looks out around us. I stare at him and wonder if I can trust him.
“I’m not one of them,” he says. “I promise you. I only became a believer five years ago. I spent most of my life not believing much of anything. But around here, you’re forced to pick a side.”
“I know.”
“Do you, Chris?”
I nod.
I want to tell him that I tried to do it on my own but couldn’t. I want to say that in the only way possible I tried to give my life over to God.
But I still don’t know.
I still don’t know anything.
“Chris, you came to me wanting help. What were you asking for?”
“This—all of this, I guess. Stuff about God and Jesus and the Devil. I don’t quite know what’s what. You know?”
Mr. Meiners tells me he understands.
“My father became a Christian—had a real life conversion and all that. Mom didn’t accept it—was actually furious about it. I guess now I see the sort of baggage she might have toward religion and God.”
“What did you think of your father’s decision?”
“I thought he was crazy. But—I get it now. I think I do anyway. I just—I open the Bible, and it seems like another language. But I don’t know what questions to ask or who to ask.”
“This is good to hear, Chris.”
“What?”
“All of this. That you’re wanting to learn.”
“It’s probably because I’m freaked out by everything.”
“That’s okay. Many people come to faith through extenuating circumstances. Jocelyn was one of them, you know?”
I swallow and think carefully about Jocelyn’s last few weeks.
“Did you help her?” I ask Mr. Meiners.
“Yes. I was there when she’d given up and didn’t know what to do. I was there when she prayed to God for help. It was amazing.”
“They killed her.”
“I know.”
“Why can’t we—why can’t you do something?”
“Chris, I have tried. I’ve tried moving. I’ve tried reaching out and talking to others. But I don’t know who all is involved with Marsh and Staunch. I have my ideas. But getting help—I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I have a family. Everything changed when you got here. That was right when I began to suspect the worst. Jocelyn confided in me. I’ve heard from Poe. But Chris—they cannot know that I’m a believer. They cannot know that I believe in the power of Christ. To them, that is the ultimate sacrilege.”
“Marsh says I need to reject the name of Jesus. That there’s going to be some ceremony on Memorial Day. Something to do with my great-grandfather.”
A car passes, and Mr. Meiners looks at it carefully while it drives off down the road.
“We need to keep going.”
“Does that mean I pass my driver’s test?”
“You’ll have to drive a few more times with me.”
“Okay.”
I start driving down the road back to the high school.
“I want you to come to our meeting this Sunday,” Mr. Meiners says.
“The one that used to meet at the falls?”
“Yes.”
“I always wondered who was a part of that.”
“It’s just a handful. They end up finding you out and getting rid of you. That’s what happened to Oli.”
I slow down, and the car veers off the road toward the ditch. Mr. Meiners grabs the wheel and corrects our path.
“Pay attention.”
“Are you saying Oli was going to your meetings? The secret meetings under the falls?”
“Yes.”
“But what—how? I mean, what happened with him?”
“I’ll tell you Oli’s story. It’s like Jocelyn’s. Beautiful and amazing in its own way. They are both martyrs, Chris. In a world that seems to believe that there are no more of them. But this place is farther removed from the rest of the world than you might even realize.”
“How?”
“I don’t know how. Nor do I know why. I just know—I know that God has put me on this earth to help out people like Oli and Jocelyn. And now you.”
Perhaps this should be comforting. Perhaps I should find some peace knowing Oli and Jocelyn both found faith.
But both of them died.
I’m not so sure I really want Mr. Meiner’s help if that’s the outcome.
57. Armor
“Sorry buddy. I brought it to a guy I know who fixes everything, and he couldn’t fix it. Even though it has lighter fluid and everything.”
Mounds hands me the Zippo I had let him take to a friend to fix. I flick it a few times, but it does nothing.
“That thing’s too rusted,” Mounds adds. “Your mom gave it to you?”
“Yeah. Family thing.”
“I have a good feeling about today,” Mounds says. “Once we find the place, of course.
”
Mounds is looking at his phone to try and see what the GPS is telling him, but he doesn’t seem to be having any luck. The winding roads that curve around these hills don’t always make cell service easy. It’s easy to get disconnected around here.
In more ways than one.
“What’s your good feeling?” I ask.
“You. You’re like my good-luck charm.”
I can’t help but laugh. I’m a bit nervous. Seems I wake up and go to bed nervous these days.
“Man, I’ve never had so much action happen in all my time of doing this. I think—I really think some people are just wired differently. It’s like they have some kind of magnetic ability about them, something that draws in spirits.”
“Must be my cologne.”
Mounds looks at my deadpan delivery and then howls in laughter.
“You’re funny, too.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Hilarious.”
At least someone is laughing.
“So what are we looking for today?”
It’s the middle of a murky Saturday. Snow fell last night and then melted this morning, and now everything looks slightly mushy, like something taken out of a fridge that’s defrosted but looks kind of gross.
“It’s a place called the Grounds.”
Oh no.
“What?” Mounds asks, seeing the look on my face.
“Nothing.”
“You been there, huh? Heard about it?”
I nod.
“What’d you see? Tell me—what’d you find there?”
How about a beautiful dark-haired sixteen-year-old girl in a white dress, tied to a rock with her throat slashed?
I shake my head and look ahead. I’m not sure where we are. If I knew, I’d be able to point him in the direction of the opening at the top of the mountain that has massive stones circling it like Stonehenge.
“A lot of kids go up there for a little uh-uh-uh,” Mounds says. “I bet you did too.”
I give him a polite smile. But suddenly I don’t want to earn any money. I don’t want to see what spirits or ghosts or animals will come out to play today.
I’m scared.
What if she’s there?
It’s crazy to think something like this. Out of all the things I’ve seen—and I’ve seen a lot—I think the absolute last thing I want to see is Jocelyn.
I don’t want to be reminded.
“Ah, there it is, Lookout Drive.” Mounds laughs. “Kinda fitting, huh. Lookout for the zombie coming your way!”
He starts talking about the newest zombie show on cable. When I say I haven’t seen it, he proceeds to give me all the highlights. Like every single one.
The road turns to gravel as we bounce along in his minivan. Eventually it turns into flattened grass that cars have driven over. A grassy hill like the top of a bald man’s head inches upward from where we’re parked.
In the center of the top of that hill are boulders and stones and a fire pit.
I remember a doubting Sheriff Wells talking about the Grounds and telling me that I was making all of that up about Jocelyn and the men in the hooded robes.
So much has happened in the last year.
We get out of the minivan and feel the cold cloud that seems to be hovering around this place. It just makes it all the more ominous and spooky.
“Can’t barely see the stones, but I know they’re there,” Mounds says.
I grab the equipment box and follow him.
I remember in another life this girl I was crazy about showing me this place from the opposite side in the woods.
Jocelyn mentioned the guy named Stuart Algiers who had gone missing, the one dating Poe. She said he had confided in her about seeing a flat stone suddenly show up as a warning sign—the same type of stone Jocelyn had found in her bed.
She knew what had happened to Stuart. He had been sacrificed in this very place.
She knew and yet—
Time ticked away.
The numbers on the clock fell down on the floor … then went up in flames.
“Come on, pick up the pace!” Mounds says.
When a guy this heavy and out of shape tells you to pick up the pace, it means you’re really moving slow.
I’m not even moving at all.
We reach the crest of the hill, and I see the odd-shaped rocks. Everything here looks different in the daytime, even in the fog.
Everything looked bigger.
The boulders are all different sizes and shapes. There are about seven of them, and they’re not necessarily in a circle. If you were to connect-the-rocks, you’d get something resembling more of a star. A strange-shaped star.
There are smaller stones within the star.
The place that Jocelyn called the fire pit in the center doesn’t seem to be there.
Mounds has something new he bought that looks like a wand with a cord on it attached to a box. He tells me to take out the item I call the ghost detector with the long arm you wave over the ground. I still think these tools are completely useless, and maybe just for show, but Mounds certainly believes in them.
“Scan the immediate ground right inside the stones,” he says.
He’s already wandering off toward one of the largest boulders as I’m unpacking the piece. The fog is so thick that he seems to fade away. I get the tool and quickly head toward him.
The farther I walk, the thicker the fog seems to get.
“Hey, Mounds.”
Nothing.
“Mounds! Hey, where you’d go?”
I reach one of the boulders and am waving the ghost detector on the ground.
I feel a breeze, and it looks as if the fog is being blown away. At least from the center of the hilltop.
As I turn my head toward the center, I no longer feel so cold. The wind is still blowing, but somehow it seems like there’s a rush of warm air coming through.
Then I see her.
Jocelyn is standing in the center of these rocks. The ground isn’t hard and scarred underneath her, but rather green and grassy.
I drop the junk in my hands.
“Jocelyn?”
I know it’s just a dream or a vision, but I don’t want it to go. I don’t want whatever it is about her to leave, like when you know you’re dreaming but you like the dream you’re in and you’re seconds away from waking up.
I take a few more steps.
The fog continues to disappear, and suddenly I see blue sky.
The cloud has opened up in a circle to reveal the clear sky above and the clear image of Jocelyn below.
I’ve missed you so much.
Each step I take gets slower, more careful. I know she’s going to be like a gigantic bubble that’s hovering right in front of you until it suddenly pops and spills soap all over you.
“Jocelyn, don’t leave, please,” I say.
She smiles, looking the way she did when I last saw her. A grown-up and more beautiful (if that’s possible) Jocelyn. She’s wearing a dark overcoat that matches her hair.
Her eyes don’t look away for a second.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I tell her as I stand several feet away from her.
“It’s okay now.”
I start to reach out to her, but she gently shakes her head, then gives me a reassuring smile. “You’re doing the right things.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say. “Or where I am or who I’m supposed to be.”
“Be yourself.”
“I tried that, and it didn’t work so much.”
“That’s the beauty of grace, Chris. That’s the amazing gift we’re given. Time and time again.”
“Is this a dream?”
“No. You’re really here.”
“And Mounds?”
“He can’t see us.”
“I’m going crazy, you know,” I say.
“I’m sure it can’t be easy dealing with this.”
“Yeah, especially when you’re trying to figure out trigonometry at the same time.”
I’m nervous, and out of my mouth comes sarcasm. I’m glad to see it makes Jocelyn grin.
“What am I supposed to do? How can I get help?”
“You’re the one who must help others.”
“But how?” I ask. “Like with what?”
“With the things you already have. Faith. Love. Hope. And humility.”
I sure don’t feel like I have any of those things, but I’m not about to tell her she’s wrong.
“I didn’t mean to send you away.”
“You didn’t understand,” she says. “It’s okay.”
“I’ve messed up.”
“You probably will again.”
I sigh. “Yeah.”
“Take the tools you’ve been given, and use them.”
“What—tools?”
“The things you know. The things you already have. ‘Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil.’”
“Is that armor like one-size-fits-all?”
Again, the nervous nonsense coming out of my mouth. And once again, the sweet smile to follow.
“Ephesians six, Chris. Ten through twenty. Those are important words for you. They will help you. Especially when you are on your own.”
“I’ve been on my own.”
“But you’re never fully on your own. It might seem like it. But this world and this life are but a flicker. This world is darkness, Chris. But His light never fades away.”
“Jocelyn—can I—are you going—”
“Chris, you have to be strong. They need you.”
“Who?’
“Too many to name.”
I look around but can only see the haze surrounding us.
“Too many?” I ask. “That feels like pressure.”
“You are going to be tested, and you are going to fail.”
Hurt: A Novel (Solitary Tales Series) Page 17
