A Curse So Dark

by Heather Davis

  At any rate, I was pretty pissed at Fawn by the time I reached the entrance. I’d better find her at home when I got back. Maybe I’d ground her, though I doubted she’d accept a punishment from me.

  “Hey!” A beam from a flashlight moved across the grass. Someone running toward me. A single figure, not Fawn and Lewis.

  “I’m leaving.” Hands up, I backed toward the iron gates.

  “What are you doing here?” the guy demanded.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “The caretaker who’s going to charge you with trespassing,” he said, stepping under the lamppost.

  I’d seen him before. A trucker cap barely corralled messy brown hair. His blue eyes, clear and striking, seemed so familiar. A camouflage rain jacket topped a plaid shirt and jeans. I blinked at the checkered Vans on his feet. “Wait—Cooper? Are you Cooper North?”

  “Do we know each other?”

  I nodded, the memory of seeing Cooper in the hallways at school flashing in my mind. He’d been the crush of many of my friends. The mysterious, good-looking loner who kept to himself, never played sports, never went to any dances. “I was a few years behind you in school. I thought you were in the Army now.”

  A muscle at his jaw twitched. “I was. I’m back.”

  “I’m Lily Turner.”

  He stared at me, a twitch of recognition in his eyes, but no smile. “Time to go.” His voice cut across the distance between us, cold, precise.

  “And it’s nice to see you, too,” I muttered.

  “This is no place for you,” he said, softening his tone. “Out here in the dark.”

  “If you see my sister, can you text me? I’ll give you my number. I followed her and her boyfriend here.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t do favors for any Turner.”

  I bristled at his tone. “Wow. Okay.”

  What did he have against us? If anything, my dad seemed like he was actually friends with Cooper’s dad Ivan. He’d never hassled Ivan, even though the sheriff’s department got called over to the property occasionally.

  “You going?” Cooper growled.

  I frowned at him. I’d been about to mention that there were some killer wolves—probably his dad’s hybrids—on the edge of his cemetery, but now I figured I’d let Cooper find that out on his own. Hopefully they’d still be hungry.

  I pushed through the gates.

  Once I was on the other side, Cooper threaded a thick chain through the bars. I heard a lock clank shut. “And stay out,” he muttered.

  That was enough to send me back to the gate, poking my face partway through. “What is your problem?”

  He glared at me from beneath the brim of his stupid hat. “The point is, you are not my problem.” And with that, he turned and walked off, leaving me standing there, open-mouthed and fuming.

  I ran home, frustrated and conscious of the lonesome dark deepening around me. The streets of Pioneer Falls never seemed so desolate. Back at our house, I half-expected to find my father in his study, or tucked into his bed, but that wasn’t the case. And, even though I waited up for Fawn, I fell asleep not knowing if she’d returned.

  I was a few hours into taking care of this family and I was already failing hard.

  ***

  Wolves had haunted my dreams since childhood. I’d chalked it up to living in the mountains, to the frequent sightings in town, but really, I’d dreamed of them as long as I could remember, even when we’d lived in the city. And it was often the same wolf.

  That night as I drifted off to sleep on the living room couch where I’d been waiting up for Fawn, I found myself on the edge of a clearing, in the company of the usual dark brown wolf. The creature stood a football field or more away, facing the trees. With its ears perked, it cut a strangely beautiful silhouette against the greenery beyond. Above, the sky on the edge of twilight shimmered with the threat of rain. Charcoal-rimmed clouds hovered in the distance.

  The urge to get away before the wolf spotted me jolted through my body. With hurried steps, I turned and headed in the opposite direction. Tall, dry blades of grass scratched at my bare legs and feet. I wasn’t wearing what I’d fallen asleep in, but a fancy gown, vibrant blue against the sea of browning grass. A colorful target in the plain field.

  Suddenly conscious of my vulnerability, I cast a look over my shoulder. As I expected, the wolf had noticed me. It barreled forward, eyes gleaming silvery blue, otherworldly. Its mouth gaped open, teeth bared, tongue out.

  I broke into a run.

  The dried grass cut my feet as I fled. I wouldn’t have long before the wolf reached me, but the town lay ahead. I could hear the dull grinding sound of machinery, trucks rumbling by on paved roads, the high-pitched chatter of a schoolyard before the bell. I’d be safe in town.

  Another glance over my shoulder revealed the wolf gaining ground. The eyes scared me the most. Fixed on me as if I were prey. I whipped my head back around, focusing on the course ahead. My bloodied feet hit the street now, slopping through half-dried puddles, rough pavement. Each step burned, but I kept running.

  Passing the sign for Wallace Street, I felt a swell of hope. Home was ahead. And yet I knew the wolf was closing in. I could hear its heavy breathing, the thud of its paws on the street behind me. Then, there was a huffing growl behind me and a sharp tug as jagged teeth tore into the hem of my dress. I screamed. The wolf shook its head, ripping the fabric into shreds.

  I lurched forward as the hem ripped, releasing me. Unfazed, the wolf stretched out its neck again, this time its jaws snapping at my legs. Sharp teeth grazed my skin.

  Home was only a few yards away. Fawn, Rose, and Dad stood in the picture window of our Victorian house, watching the scene unfold. The twins gestured wildly, silently behind the glass, as my feet finally touched the spongy grass of the front lawn. Incisors sliced into my calves. I screamed. The wolf had reached me.

  I jarred awake, rolling over and curling my legs up to my chest. Breathing. Breathing and remembering it was a dream. I was safe in my house.

  The blanket that normally covered the worn sofa was wrapped around my legs. I reached down and ran a hand over one thigh, sure that I’d find scratches or bloody bites, but there was nothing there. I panted in the dark, shaking.

  When I was younger, I’d awakened from nightmares like these and run to my father’s room. He’d always take me to the kitchen for a glass of milk and send me back to bed, assuring me the bad dreams were growing pains in my bones, nothing more. He’d reassure me that dreams weren’t real.

  But I’d never felt anything so real. I thought of the mangled deer behind the coffee shop. Of course I’d had empathy for the poor thing. I’d suffered the bites and ripped flesh those wolves were capable of. I’d tasted the same terrifying pain, even if it was in a nightmare.

  Shuddering, I swung my feet to the floor, feeling the soft living room carpet beneath my toes. I pulled back the edge of the curtains at the picture window, looking at the crescent moon over the trees. Those wolves were out there. Real ones. And they were doing what was natural. Even with that buck. I reminded myself that Dad was never afraid of anything in nature. He hadn’t raised me and my sisters that way, either. He wouldn’t want me to be scared of wolves or wolf-dogs, even, creeping through town or through cemeteries. And he certainly wouldn’t want me to be afraid of dreams.

  I felt for my stone pendant and rubbed it between my fingers, thinking of Dad. He was going to be all right. He had to be. This was a safe town. People didn’t go missing. Touching my stone helped a little, but it also made me think of how the necklace was the best thing he’d ever given me, the only semblance of a tradition our family had. He’d meant for the twins to have their pendants, too, he’d told me so—they’d be the centerpiece gift of the girls’ sixteenth birthday.

  At the back of my mind, I realized that with Dad gone, there’d be no one to tell me a nightmare was only a dream. And there’d be no one to look after the twins. We weren’t a family without him. Maybe i
t was too soon to panic, but he had to come home. The future I imagined for myself, away from town, depended on him being here. I didn’t want Pioneer Falls to be my destiny. That wasn’t at all what I’d planned.

  ***

  “Why did you follow me last night?” Fawn said, passing through the living room.

  “Thank goodness you got home. I was worried.” I sat up, arching my back and stretching out my legs the next morning. The old couch made a lumpy bed. I rubbed my arms, as much for heat as for relief. The chill in the air made me wonder if someone had messed with the thermostat. “If Dad were here you’d be grounded for a week. Should I take away your phone?” I added, trying out the role of disciplinarian.

  My sister called from the kitchen, “Nice try, but I can handle myself.”

  “Right,” I said, shrugging off the blanket to go join Fawn. As I entered the kitchen, my bare feet hit stray cereal on the linoleum, crunching beneath my heel. I plucked the remains of the oat square from my foot and tossed them into the sink. “I don’t want you sneaking out at night again. Not with Dad gone.”

  “It’s not a big deal, Lily,” Fawn said, opening up the fridge and grabbing the orange juice. “I was only gone for a few hours and I came back in so quietly you didn’t even hear me!”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but suddenly noticed Fawn’s outfit included one of my own favorite T-shirts and leather jacket. “Again?”

  Fawn caught the dawning recognition on my face, and poured herself a glass of juice nonchalantly. “What?” She smiled smugly as if she thought her borrowing missions were cute. It wasn’t so cute when all your best stuff was perpetually in the dirty clothes hamper since someone else had worn it.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this with you. Not this morning.” I spooned coffee grounds into the brew basket. Maybe caffeine would help.

  Fawn strolled away with her juice glass and took a seat on the counter.

  “Good morning.” Rose entered the kitchen, smiling. Her long blond hair gleamed in a sleek ponytail. A buttoned denim blouse was tucked into a black pencil skirt. Tall boots, not new but freshly shined, completed the outfit. There must be a test that morning, I figured. Rose insisted that dressing up helped her prepare as much as studying.

  “Glad someone slept okay last night,” I said, setting the carafe under the brew basket and hitting start.

  Rose set her school things down on the kitchen table, and then noticed the splashes of orange juice. “Sheesh, Fawn,” she muttered, wiping off her books.

  “Sorry.” Fawn saluted us with her glass.

  I grabbed clean bowls from the dishwasher and poured out a shower of crumbs from the cereal box. Toast it was. I shared a look with Rose, then stuck two slices of bread in the toaster.

  On cue, Rose snagged the peanut butter from the cabinet and sat down. “Any word from the sheriff?”

  “No,” I said, joining her at the table with a cup of coffee.

  Fawn finished her juice at the sink, looking out the rain-streaked window. I saw more in her expression than just annoyance that she’d been caught sneaking out the night before. “I hate this,” Fawn muttered. “They should have found him by now.”

  “I know. When I was out last night, I checked the squad car. There wasn’t anything weird inside.” I added a splash of milk to my cup.

  “Did anyone talk to the bartender?” Rose offered. “That seems a logical step.”

  “Yeah, I thought about that, too. But, you know...I didn’t have time to find out before I had to head down Maple Street into a graveyard.”

  Fawn rolled her eyes. “Okay, that was totally your choice.”

  “Not so much a choice as a duty,” I replied.

  Rose paused in slathering peanut butter on her toast. “Again, Fawn? What is it with you and the cemetery?”

  “I think it’s more about the sneaking out than the destination,” I said.

  “Who cares what I do?” Fawn said, jumping down from the counter.

  I took a deep, long drink of coffee. The caffeine wasn’t working fast enough. “Look, Fawn, if Dad were here, he’d—”

  “But he’s not. Is he?” Fawn deposited her glass in the sink. “Maybe he’s really gone.”

  The air stilled in the kitchen.

  Rose shot her a hurt look. “Why would you say that?”

  “Sorry, it just crossed my mind,” Fawn said. “I’m sure it’s crossed yours, too.”

  “There’s no need to get all freaked out,” I said, getting up from the table. “It was one night. He’ll be back. Get your stuff together. I need to get dressed and then I’ll meet you at the truck.”

  Rose placed her toast on a paper towel atop her books. Fawn followed her out of the kitchen.

  Before I headed up to get ready, I stacked the dishes in a neat pile in the sink, dumped out the coffee grounds and rinsed the pot. Routine was cold comfort for the anxiety building inside of me. Fawn’s thought wasn’t far from my own. We should have heard something by now. What if he really had left us?

  ***

  “So?” Alex said over his shoulder as I joined the lunch line behind him. “Did your sister emerge from the tomb?”

  “Yeah. Eventually.” I frowned at the choices ahead. I didn’t like the food in the cafeteria, but there hadn’t been time to pack anything decent.

  Alex turned and smiled. “Good. I love a happy ending.”

  “Well, it’s not exactly happy.”

  “Oh, sorry.” He moved forward in the line, sliding a droopy pizza slice on his tray.

  I grabbed an apple and a yogurt from the dessert section. As I rummaged in my bag for cash, Kyle caught my eye, waving from a table near the door. I smiled, even though I was kind of pissed at him about last night, about how he hadn’t stayed with me at the sheriff’s office.

  The lunch lady took my money and handed me change.

  “Your lunch date awaits,” Alex said, nodding his head toward Kyle before wandering off toward an empty table at the back of the room.

  I picked up my tray, passing a table with Alicia Jones and my other friends, to take a seat with Kyle. Alicia gave me a nod. I could tell from her sad smile she’d heard about my dad. I’d catch up with her in journalism class after lunch.

  “Was that new kid bothering you?” Kyle asked, shoving over to make more space at the table with his friends for me. “I heard his dad is some kind of forest weirdo.”

  “Maybe, I don’t know. He’s not bothering me.” I sat down.

  Kyle took a swig of his soda and watched Alex, who was opening his paperback to read as he ate his lunch. “Loser skater wannabe, anyway.” Kyle’s friends snickered and made a few more comments about Alex.

  I polished my apple on my shirt. “Hey, shut up, guys. He’s a nice kid.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Kyle said.

  I glared at him. “With me? Oh, maybe that my dad is missing?”

  “Whoa. Whoa,” Kyle said, putting his arm around me, while his friends gave him sympathetic looks “Calm down. I know you’re worried about your dad. I am, too.”

  “It doesn’t really seem like it. You could have stayed with us, or something like that.”

  Kyle kissed my cheek and I caught the scent of his laundry detergent, his cologne, a hint of ketchup from the burger he’d had for lunch. “You have to stop worrying,” he said. “You texted me the sheriff said he could’ve flipped out, started drinking. He’ll probably sleep it off and come back and then problem solved.”

  “Really?” I shrugged Kyle away. Sure, I’d told him what the sheriff had said, but that didn’t mean I believed it. Or that I needed those details repeated back to me. I ran my fingers over my stone pendant, feeling the smoothed edges of the simple round disk, willing it to soothe me.

  “I’m sorry,” Kyle whispered. “I shouldn’t have just dropped you off last night. I get that’s why you’re mad. I screwed up. I thought you were fine. You weren’t.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I’m not...” I glanced up at the clock. On
ly about fifteen minutes of lunch period left, but then I still had three more hours of school. I felt trapped. All I wanted to do was be out looking, doing something before my shift at the coffee shop.

  “So, anyway, I was going to tell you––I’m not turning out for practice tonight. I can help you search. We can drive all the roads near the inn,” Kyle said.

  “Maybe. I just want to go now, okay?” I stuck the apple and unopened yogurt in the side pocket of my backpack and took the lunch tray to the kitchen window.

  Kyle followed me. “C’mon. Don’t run off like that,” he said, grabbing my arm.

  My hand covered his, prying it off. “Don’t!”

  The word seemed to puncture the air. He let go, palms up in surrender, shaking his head in disbelief. He backed away into the crowded lunchroom, which had suddenly grown quiet, watching us.

  I had a flash of regret, reading more irritation in his expression that I expected. Kyle didn’t understand what I was going through. Dad was all the twins and I had left. And the vague worry I’d felt last night was more than a feeling that something bad had happened to him. It was an ache spreading in my bones.

  Grabbing the keys to the truck from my bag, I stormed out of the lunchroom. If my dad really was on a bender like people, like Kyle, were saying, I wanted proof.

  Maybe then, I might believe it.

  Chapter Three

  Like most of the older towns in Washington state, Pioneer Falls was planned on a grid. Houses built for the millwrights and factory workers in those earlier times line the streets closest to the churches and the shops on Main Street. Grander old homes stretch out on bigger lots that edge the town park. Our house has stood on Wallace Street for more than a hundred years, straddling the territory between the classes. It was missing a few shingles and needed new paint that fall, but you could tell it was once a beauty. Dad had been working so much, he never really had time to fix the cosmetic stuff. Still, it was home.

  Any resident spirits haunting the old house might have thought I was possessed that afternoon, ripping things out of drawers and closets. I started in the garage, at the workbench, in all the cupboards. I came up with a stale pack of cigarettes, probably not even Dad’s. Next I rummaged through the house, beginning in the cellar, rattling through dusty shelves of canned goods and the jugs of water that we stocked for emergencies. No booze.