The Last Harvest

by Kim Liggett

  I feel the nun’s eyes digging into me as I pass. Judging me.

  As soon as we get outside, I lean over, bracing my hands against my knees. “If the priests weren’t real … if I’m seeing things in that much detail, I must be crazy … just like Miss Granger.”

  “We’re going to figure this out. I promise,” Ali says, rubbing my back. “You have me now. I can tell you what’s real.”

  I try to take a few deep breaths, but it feels like my lungs are already full to capacity. “I feel like I might pass out,” I manage to say.

  “You’re okay. Just breathe.” Ali leans me up against a statue. “Just stay here. Let me get the car,” she says, as she runs into the parking lot.

  I hear the jingling of keys behind me and turn to see the nun locking up the chapel.

  I remember there were other people around that day. Witnesses. I know I’m grasping, but there’s a lot at stake here. Maybe she doesn’t know about the priests’ visit because the meeting was a secret.

  “The nuns I met the other day … a Sister Agnes … Sister Grace,” I say as I straighten up, trying to act normal. “Is there any way I can talk to them?”

  “I’m afraid that’s quite impossible,” she says, her grim mouth stretching into a pleasant line.

  “Why?”

  “Because they cut out their own tongues right after you left. And do you know what they said before they put blade to flesh? Ego causam civitatium sanguine.”

  “I plead the blood,” I whisper.

  She smiles. “Very good, Clay.”

  “How … how do you know my name?” I murmur as I back away from her.

  She watches me and I swear her eyes are pure black. I clench my eyes shut and when I open them again, the nun is gone. Vanished.

  I stagger back into the parking lot, into screeching tires as I hit the hood of Ali’s car.

  “Clay!” Ali jumps out of the car.

  “I’m fine … I’m fine,” I say as I get into the passenger seat. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  As we pull away, I stare at the church. I’m not sure what I’m looking for … if what happened was even real. But Miss Granger said there was a disturbance at the church. Something that made the priests not trust me anymore. Could I have made the nuns do it … cut out their own tongues?

  Maybe I’m the evil one and I just don’t know it.

  43

  I TRY not to look at the wheat as I pull in the drive. I should’ve finished the harvest days ago, but I haven’t made much headway. It doesn’t even seem to matter how much time I spend out there, I just keep going over the same patterns, again and again. And ever since that dream about the bull, when I woke up on the combine while it was still moving, I’ve been afraid of the wheat … or the combine … or maybe I’m just afraid of myself.

  Ali thinks I just need sleep. Maybe she’s right. I hope to God she’s right, because the alternative is too awful to think about.

  I look at myself in the rearview mirror and slap my cheeks before I head in the house. I might be mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted, but I’m not about to let Noodle see that.

  As soon as I open the front door, Noodle comes crashing into me.

  I feel her stomach grumble against my leg. “Hungry?”

  Noodle nods, but doesn’t let go of my leg.

  I walk to the kitchen stiff-legged like Frankenstein, dragging her along with me. She starts giggling.

  “We’ve got pancakes,” Noodle says, as she takes a seat at the table right in front of a full plate.

  “Are these still here from breakfast?” I flick the top one. It’s as hard as a rock.

  I check the refrigerator. It’s practically empty. Pickles, some condiments, and brown lettuce. I told Mom I didn’t want her waiting on me for supper, but I didn’t mean for her to stop making supper altogether. “This isn’t right.” I start to head into the living room to confront her, when Noodle puts her hand in mine. “Pancakes are good. Ali made ’em. Don’t worry. They’ll soften up with syrup.”

  I look down at her and my heart melts. She doesn’t want a fight. And to be honest, neither do I. I’ll have to deal with Mom later.

  “You’re right,” I say.

  A huge smile takes over her face as she pulls me back to the table.

  Noodle thumbs through the stack, picking out the best one and putting it on a separate plate. “For Jess.” She grins and licks her lips as she drowns the rest of them in syrup.

  I grab two forks. The silverware drawer is practically empty. The mail’s piled up. The whole house is depressing, like there’s a dark cloud hanging over everything. “Hey, you want to work the fields with me tomorrow after school?” I ask. “I’m having a hard time finishing the front parcel.”

  “You bet.” Her eyes light up.

  The sugar seems to go straight to her brain because after a few bites, Noodle starts talking a mile a minute.

  With Jess barricaded in her room and Mom in one of her spells, Noodle’s starved for attention, probably been on her own all day.

  I feel a little guilty for kicking her one playmate under her bed. Maybe I should help her find it. “I notice you haven’t been carrying around that baby doll lately.”

  Noodle shrugs. “She’s busy.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I try not to laugh. “Busy with what?”

  I push the last bite toward Noodle. She crams it into her mouth. “Helping Jess.”

  “Well, tell her good luck with that.”

  Hammy comes in the dog door all muddy and gross. Noodle holds down her plate so he can lick up the last bits and then he leaves again.

  “Who needs a dishwasher with Hammy around.” She hands me the plate.

  I take it to the sink, washing it with soap. I spot Hammy out the kitchen window, pacing the wheat again.

  “That dog. I swear. What do you think he does out there all day and night?”

  “He’s busy, too.”

  “Is he helping Jess as well?” I chuckle.

  “No, silly. He’s guarding.”

  “Making sure nothing bad gets in?”

  “Making sure nothing bad gets out,” she says.

  I drop the plate in the sink.

  I look back at Noodle; she lets out a big yawn, accidentally wiping syrup across her face. Sugar crash.

  “Let’s get you to bed,” I say as I grab the plate for Jess and lead Noodle upstairs to get cleaned up. I run a bath for her and wait outside the door. Ever since Dad died, she wants to bathe herself … dress herself … she even cuts her own bangs. Won’t let anybody brush out her hair or fix it. That’s why she’s always got those lopsided pigtails. I guess she’s growing up, but not too much, because she’s still splashing around, singing her counting song.

  She comes out of the bathroom in her nightgown, all pink and shiny. “But I’m not tired,” she says as she lets out another giant yawn.

  “I know, but I need you to be rested for tomorrow. You’ve got to be alert on the combine.”

  “Let’s meet in our dreams,” she says as she snuggles in. “That way you won’t get lonely.”

  “Always,” I whisper.

  When I’m done tucking Noodle in, I take the plate to Jess’s room. “Jess?” I tap lightly. “I brought you something to eat.”

  I see a shadow move under her door, hear the shuffling of feet, and then silence.

  “Did you have a good talk with Ali today? She said she could come over anytime, or you could go over there … whatever you need.”

  Still nothing.

  “I should tell you…” I lower my voice. “Mom’s not doing so good. It’s not like usual. This is something different. She’s not talking about Dad … she’s not talking about anything. All she does is sit and stare at the flies. I’m thinking maybe something died in the wall … a mouse … I don’t know. All I know is that without you around to keep us all in check, things have gotten out of hand. We could use a dose of reality around here.”

  I listen for a laugh
—any kind of reaction—but all I hear is her heavy breath.

  “What I said to you the other day, or didn’t say … that was wrong. It’s not too late for you … to make something of your life.” I swallow hard and press my palm against her door. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you’re not important. It’s been a tough year for all of us. But I’m going to be better. We all need to be better.”

  I set down the plate in front of her door.

  I’m walking toward the stairs when I hear her door creak open. I turn just in time to see the plate slide into her room and the door slam shut again.

  She’s going to be okay. Jess is a tough girl. I just need to show her that I’m going to step up and lead this family.

  It gives me the courage I need to face Mom. Enabling her isn’t helping anyone.

  I turn on the light in the living room. Mom doesn’t even flinch. She’s sitting in the same position she was in yesterday. She looks awful, dark bags under her bloodshot eyes, but I’ve let this go on long enough.

  “L.A.W.,” I say, watching her spine stiffen. “Why was Dad giving money to Lee Aric Wiggins?”

  She clenches her jaw. “Don’t say that name in this house.”

  Normally, that would be enough to shut me down, but I need answers. “It’s time,” I say as I crouch in front of her, forcing her to look at me.

  Her chin begins to quiver, her eyes clouding up with tears. “We’re cursed,” she whispers. “Your dad was going to take care of it. He was going to fix it. And now, every time I see him, the burns, it reminds me of the shame he brought on this family … but something’s happening.”

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  “Shh…,” she whispers, as she peers over my shoulder, so she can get a better view.

  “This has to stop,” I say as I snatch the flyswatter hanging from the nail in the kitchen. “This whole fly business is over.”

  As I haul back the swatter, Mom jumps up from the couch and grabs on to my arm, but I don’t let her stop me this time. I shake her off, hauling back again and again, killing them without mercy. There must be fifty of them now. They don’t even move. They don’t try to get away. It’s almost like they’re asking for it.

  When I’m finished, I drop the swatter and turn to find her crumpled up on the ground, her shoulders shaking. I feel a stab of guilt when I realize what I’ve done … what this place is doing to all of us.

  “Mom, I’m sorry,” I say as I go to help her up.

  She peers up at me through her disheveled hair. At first I think she’s crying, but she’s laughing, her face contorted with madness. “I can still hear them,” she whispers. “He’s coming. He’s coming for all of us. We’re all going to die.”

  * * *

  I’M SO exhausted, I don’t even try getting Mom in bed this time.

  When I get back to my room, my phone is vibrating. It’s a text from Ali.

  I’ve been thinking about the prophecy thing. Miss G has it all wrong, but I think I know the source. It’s from an old book in the council archives at PS.

  Can you show it to me?

  Sure. Anytime.;)

  Now?

  Too risky. How about tomorrow? We’ll have the whole place to ourselves. After practice. Meet in parking lot?

  K.

  This is going to sound weird, but I had fun today.

  I let out an unexpected laugh. Definitely weird, but me, too.

  It vibrates again, but it’s just Dale calling for the millionth time. One of the things I always liked about him was that he never treated me any different after what happened with my dad, but I don’t think I can stand hearing him talk about Ben, or not talking about him. Probably best to avoid him for now with everything that’s going on. He’s my second cousin and the last thing I want to do is hurt his feelings.

  I turn off the phone and pull out the family Bible. I know my dad wasn’t in his right mind at the end, but why would he write Lee’s initials on such an important family document? And why was he giving him money? I’m sure as hell not going to get any straight answers out of my mom, not in her condition, which leaves me with only one option. I could hang around Merritt’s, wait for him to find me, or I could go straight to the source. I know where he deals. I know where he lives. He probably doesn’t think I have the balls to go out there, but he’s dead wrong.

  44

  JESS STAYED scarce again this morning—wasn’t begging me for a ride. I think about barging in her room to give her a pep talk, tell her to get back on the horse and all that crap, like Dad used to do, but maybe she just needs a few more days to herself before she goes back to school. And if I’m being honest, I’m not ready to deal with it either.

  I could use some cheering up, so I take Noodle to school instead.

  “Did you see the plane?” Noodle asks.

  I look up in the sky.

  “Not here, silly. Over the farm.”

  “What, Mr. Wilson’s crop duster?”

  “Smaller than that.”

  “Like one of those drones?”

  Noodle shrugs and then tightens her pigtails. “Passed by the crops six times this morning.”

  “Is that so?” I say as I turn onto Main Street. Sounds like something a Neely would do. Ian or Tyler. Wouldn’t put it past either one of them to be spying on me.

  “Got lots of rest last night,” she says as we pull into the carpool line. “Just like you said, so I’ll be ready for the combine.”

  “See you, squirt.” I give her my best “don’t worry, Satan’s not coming to town” smile and head off to grab some groceries before school.

  I don’t go to Piggly Wiggly. I figure I can grab some basics out at the store by the junkyard before I pay Lee a visit. Kill two birds with one stone.

  I pull up to the store. It’s just a cinder block house with a dingy white sign propped up against the side with THE STORE written in brick-red paint.

  Some guys are setting up a roadside barbeque in the parking lot. They give me a head nod, but other than that, it’s deserted. I’m getting my money together, pulling some change from the ashtray, when I see Lee Wiggins come out with a plastic bag. He’s got his hood up, but I’d know that slouch anywhere.

  “Wiggins,” I holler as I get out of my truck.

  He doesn’t even turn around, just takes off running at the sound of my voice.

  I track him down a narrow path that runs alongside the junkyard. A Rottweiler jumps at the fence, making it bend and spring back, gnashing teeth and pure muscle slamming against the chain link. It scares the shit out of me, but it makes me run that much harder.

  I pass the fence and break out of the overgrowth to find Lee standing in front of a burnt-out trailer. I’ve heard about it, but it’s a whole other thing seeing it in person—the warped metal, the charred plastic, right next to his melted-off face. I can’t even imagine the force, the sheer amount of heat it took to do this much damage. Enough to kill his two brothers. Enough to maim him for life.

  “Come to see Dad’s handiwork?” He spreads his hands wide, like he’s showing me Disneyland.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do. Think about it, Clay.” He takes down his hood, stretching out his neck to show me the full display of his burns. “The explosives. I know you found them in the shed, buried them on the back parcel, but you didn’t tell anyone, did you? Sheriff was right there, and you hid it from him. Pretty sure they call that tampering with evidence.”

  I clench my hands into fists. “How do you know about that?”

  “I know all kinds of things.” He grins, his mangled flesh stretching tight over crooked teeth. “I know you’ve been sniffing around Oakmoor, too,” Lee says. “Around me and Miss Granger.”

  “I’m sick of playing games with you,” I say, as I get right up in his face. “Whatever it is that you think you know? You best spit it out now, while you still have teeth.” I shove him and he drops the plastic bag. A package of condoms and
some twine sprawls out in the dirt.

  I glance down at the condoms. Was it him? Was he the one who was over at Miss Granger’s house that night? I kick the box. “Look, I don’t give a shit what you do with Miss Granger.”

  “Is that what you think this is?” He laughs as he picks it up. “You of all people should understand why I need these. I can’t be spilling my seed everywhere, now can I? Blessed is the seed.”

  “I don’t know what your deal is, but I need you to stay away from my family, especially Jess. Do you understand?”

  “You still haven’t figured it out.” He grins. “You still don’t know who I am.”

  “Sure I do. You’re just some low-life meth dealer. I’ve seen the bank ledger. Your name’s all over it. I get it. Did you feel good taking that money? Getting a decent family man hooked on meth?”

  “Meth?” He laughs. “I guess that’s an easier pill to swallow.”

  “Easier than what?”

  “The truth!” He opens his eyes as wide as his scarred skin will allow. “You’ve always wanted to bury your head in the sand. Never understood that about you. Had so much potential. The golden boy with the golden calf.”

  “What do you know about the calf?” I advance on him. “Was it you?”

  “See, there you go again, getting ahead of yourself. Focusing on the wrong things.”

  “Then tell me.” I get right in his face. “What should I be focusing on?”

  “Your precious daddy wasn’t buying meth.” Lee stands his ground. “He was paying me off.”

  “Oh yeah?” I laugh. “For what?”

  “For spreading his seed where it didn’t belong.”

  A chill runs down my spine. I think about Neely telling me how my dad had an eye for the ladies. My mom saying he brought shame on the family. Miss Granger asking for Lee’s birth certificate.

  It feels like the ground’s breaking away right under my feet and there’s nothing to hang on to.

  “Did you know we were born on the same day?” Lee licks his scarred lips. “Just a few minutes apart. I wasn’t due for a couple of months, but I still got here first. See, I’ll always be one step ahead of you, brother.”