by Ally Vance
Over my dead body, she was.
Chapter Four
Those words of hers haunted me all damn night and into the morning.
After we had found the pond—which was nothing more than a muddy puddle with weeds and a pool float—Daisy’s gang decided to head out to a diner before going back to the motel. I was invited, of course. I kept my distance from her, though always with her in sight, just enough to make sure that love drug was fully out of her system. She had eaten half a cheeseburger and had a Coke, which helped sober her up. We didn’t stay long, since most of the gang, Daisy included, complained of feeling sleepy as the excitement about leaving for Calling House dwindled to that of fatigue.
After waking, I had packed up my meager belongings and checked out with the motel lady. I put my bag in the trunk of my car and met up with Daisy and company in the parking lot. I was greeted with arm pats and hugs—the latter from the girls—when I told them I was coming along. They were over the moon that their new friend Sonny, even if an “old man,” was joining the cause and going with them.
Of course I was going. No way in hell would I let Daisy out of my sight. I had determined I’d only let her stay at this pseudo-utopian compound for a day, maybe two, before I’d take matters into my own hands. Who knew what kind of cult this Calling House was. Even though I’d been in Nam during his trial, I knew who Charles Manson and his harem of women were and what they’d done. I’d be damned if my Daisy was going to be joining anything even remotely like that.
We stopped for lunch, hours later, at some greasy spoon in the middle of nowhere. Daisy had found some wildflowers outside the gas station before we’d headed on the road. She was now sitting at the table, having finished her meal, making daisy chains for some of the girls.
I watched as I drank my cup of coffee, making a note to find us a house that had wildflowers in the yard. Somewhere out in the country, maybe back in Montana, close enough for Daisy’s mama to visit.
I was lost in daydreams when Daisy sat down next to me. I hadn’t even seen her get up.
“Hey, Sonny.”
“Hey there, pretty girl.”
She nudged my arm with her shoulder. “Thanks for last night. You really are a gentleman, you know. You took care of me, watched over me.”
I tipped my hat at her. “Just wanted to make sure you’d not attract trouble.” I grinned at her and sipped my cup of joe.
She laughed. “I don’t attract trouble!”
“Hmm. I don’t know, Daisy. Pretty girl like you, all sweet, all smiles? I’m not too old to know that bees flock to flowers more than they do the weeds.”
Her eyes grew soft. “You have such a way with words. Daisy.” She nodded, thoughtful. “I like that.”
I had to do it. “And I know you like it when I call you baby.”
She opened her mouth in mock outrage, then smirked, which didn’t detract from the blush that came over her. “I got your number, buddy.”
I threw my head back, laughing, almost spilling my coffee in the process. “I’m sure you do, Rose.”
She looked around the room, her hands held together in excitement. “I cannot wait to get to Calling House, can you?”
And then my good mood popped like a bubble, and I clenched my jaw.
When she turned back to me, she must have noticed my expression. “What is it? Have you changed your mind?” When I shook my head, she patted my arm. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go, you know. But I’ll be sad to see you leave, Sonny. There’s something about you that makes me feel… comfortable. You’re also a really great guy.”
Well damn.
Clearing my throat, I set down my coffee. “Nah, I haven’t changed my mind. Besides, someone needs to watch over you.” I tugged her hair, making her giggle.
Daisy rolled her eyes but smiled. “Good. Well, I’ll see you there. I need to use the ladies’ room before we get back on the road.” Then she leaned over, very hesitantly, and kissed my cheek, skewing the brim of my hat in the process.
I let out a deep breath as she walked away. I cursed silently. It was going to be a long day.
Our three-car caravan pulled up to the so-called gates of Calling House. So-called because they consisted of chain-fence doors enjoining three feet of chicken wire secured by PVC pipes.
Amateurs.
But good news for me when I needed to get the hell out of Dodge, taking my Daisy with me.
The car in front of me, the one carrying the older couple, May and Phil, and their Mia Farrow friend, chatted it up with the gatekeeper, a scruffy-looking lad with hair past his shoulders. He was holding a clipboard.
I turned the volume down on the radio, silencing Seals and Crofts so I could listen in. I didn’t hear much, though, because the boy waved us on through, watching us pass, a big idiotic grin on his face.
I looked around as we made our way slowly down the dirt road. Sparse trees, a few hills on the horizon, nothing but blue sky above. People in flowy pants and tunics moseyed on their way willy nilly, their arms filled with laundry baskets or crates of what I assumed were vegetables. Right off the bat, I noticed no children, which didn’t bode well.
A woman in what looked like an old-fashioned white nightgown turned her head to see our procession, her hair long and unkempt. I caught the dead look in her eyes, one I’d seen before in another time and place.
Nope, this was not boding well at all.
Someone ahead in a tie-dyed shirt pointed toward a parking area. Only a few vehicles were parked there, all vans covered in California dust.
Seemed these people never left the commune. Which meant they had a massive stockroom somewhere around here, possibly filled with several years’ worth of provisions. Possibly weapons.
Was I overreacting? Thinking the worst of my fellow man? Not at all. I was a realist. I’d seen enough of human behavior to know what worked and what stunk to high heaven, and this place, albeit planned with good intentions, was a pipedream that would burst. The question was, would it be a calamity? Or would it just fade into memory, some story to tell the grandkids one day?
Nevertheless, Daisy wasn’t staying.
Our guides’ names were Petal and Abe. The former was a hyper thing, hopping around on her toes like she ate happy pills for breakfast. The latter, Abe, looked far more solemn. A bit older than me, he held himself erect and gave off airs, as if he were some professor on an archeological dig overlooking the hired help. He must’ve been the leader.
I didn’t like the look of him. Not one damn bit.
The man bowed his head in greeting. “Welcome to Calling House. Peace be with you, my friends.” Abe fingered his beard with one hand, the other he kept behind his back like a butler would do among his betters. “Our friends May and Phil have honored us with new faces, it seems.” He tilted his head toward the older couple from the party, both of whom took the lead and introduced all of us one by one.
When my name came up, I noticed Abe scrutinizing me. He held out a hand to interrupt May. Yep. Arrogant ass.
“Forgive me, but I must ask. You’ve the look about you. Are you ex-military?”
Well done, old man, I thought.
“Yes, sir. Served since I was nineteen.” I didn’t mention I had been an officer, college educated at one of the top military schools. Let him think lesser rank and training. “Last tour was in Vietnam. Left in March.”
The ones standing around me gasped, seeing me in a new light. To them, I was a picture of the cause they’d been a part of. Vietnam was still a controversial subject among this group across the country. It was the white middle and upper class that had already moved on, leaving the veterans of a heinous war behind them like an old suit with a stain that would never come out, kept tucked away in the back of a locked closet.
“Indeed.” Abe’s eyes lit up, whether in respect or for some other purpose, I couldn’t tell. He turned to the others now, evaluating everyone. “I have a wonderful feeling about your coming, friends. I will have Petal show
you around and then bring you to the tabernacle for our evening meal. I will see you all then.”
Once he’d left, the group seemed to sigh in unison. I watched him as he walked off and entered a small, white-washed building with a yellow door.
“Such a privilege for you all to be greeted already by the Machin! He is our spiritual leader, our beacon and guide. But more on that later,” Petal enthused.
As the lady showed us around, Paula, Daisy, and some other girl cooed at practically everything they saw. A clothes station where clothing was laundered and made. The library—which was just a front room with a few shelves of tattered books. The dorms where the members slept. And the biggest seller, the garden. Rows and rows of produce.
Some buildings, the ones tucked back on the eastern side of the compound, we weren’t shown. Petal completely ignored them, which I found odd.
Since we were considered guests, not members, we were given one of the buildings in the front, near where we’d parked. It consisted of one room with eight bunk beds, reminiscent of my early military days. The door was a multicolored afghan, not a real door of solid wood, and there wasn’t a single window in the place. The only saving grace was that Daisy and I weren’t going to be separated. Yet.
I stayed close to her as we met the other members, all of whom acted like they’d drank the happy juice. Something about them was just off, and it wasn’t just my natural suspicion. By their actions alone, however, I couldn’t find a thing to criticize, unless sitting Indian-style on the ground and chanting happy-isms counted.
All throughout the evening, I watched Daisy. And I also watched the people watch her. Several times, Abe’s cronies, the male “servants of the Machi,” came over to chat her up, asking her strange questions, listening carefully to her answers, all the while inspecting her with their eyes like she was prized livestock. As soon as they’d see me appear at her side, however, they’d scram.
It was after dinner, when, headed toward the community showers—some third-world set up consisting of exposed plumbing and a concrete square on the ground—that I took control. Petal had sung praises about the commune’s modesty being stripped—no pun intended—from the flock’s new way of living as one. So when Paula and the girls grabbed some towels from the laundry house, handing one to Daisy, I was ahead of the game. No way in hell would I let anyone see Daisy’s wet, naked body, not unless it was girls only, which it wasn’t.
Going on nightfall by this time, tall torches lit up the area every few yards, creating a border of light around the various paths and sections of the commune. The bathing area was in the back, and, I observed with a shake of my head, conveniently set up behind Abe’s little house, which did have windows. I nice big one, in fact, right at the back. A perfect view in which to watch his so-called followers.
Sick bastard.
Almost a dozen showers were set up, and already I saw naked asses and small dicks, the men and women washing up, some even assisting each other. Next to me, I watched Daisy’s expression. She looked like she’d tasted something sour.
“Hey,” I whispered, not wanting four-eyed Paula hearing me. “Why don’t we take a shower in the morning? Me and you can go for a walk and talk instead.”
She bit her lip and eyed me. “Well. That does sound nice.”
I smiled. “Come on, let’s go.”
Daisy bobbed her head and whispered to Paula, who looked confused but nodded. Then Daisy took my proffered hand and we walked back to the guest house.
“Not that easy, is it, being so open?” I asked, squeezing her hand.
A laugh escaped her lips before she cleared her throat. “That obvious, huh?”
“Just a little. Only to someone who cares to notice.”
She shrugged, loosening up. “It’s just… I don’t know. Really, I love the sense of community here, the focus, the idealism of it all. But…”
I smiled, proud to see her coming to her own conclusions, not those formed by others. Perhaps she was only voicing her true feelings about all this because she felt more safe with me—which was definitely a good thing—unlike with her peers, who I’m sure Daisy would have a hard time questioning anything with.
“What?” she asked, smiling back at me. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just content, I guess.”
“You always seem…comfortable in your own skin, like you know exactly who you are.” She shook her head. “And you were in Vietnam, my God. I can’t even imagine—" She stopped walking, letting out a gasp. My senses instantly went on alert.
I looked ahead of us, looking for the reason why, and saw one of the buildings near the eastern side of the commune lit up in flames. What in the hell?
Before I could speak, Daisy backed up into me.
“Oh, my God. Sonny. Look.” She dropped the towel and pointed toward the gates, where a group of six or seven women in white gowns was running. The women looked half-mad, looking over their shoulders, their hair long and scraggly, looking like ghosts from some Victorian gothic novel come to life. They wore no shoes, and I knew that hard ground had to be a son of a bitch on their poor feet.
I turned back to the fire, hearing yells, and spotted Abe. He was pointing toward the gates now, his face a hideous mask of anger.
“Stop them!” Abe grabbed the man next to him and started calling people around him, giving them instructions.
I looked back at the women by the gate and put two and two together. That’s when I grabbed Daisy’s hand and pulled her along with me to the guest house, which was only a few yards away.
“We’re leaving. Now.” Running, I dragged her inside the building and grabbed my bag, not letting Daisy go. Then I looked for the bunk with her stuff on it. A brown leather suitcase with flowers and peace sign stickers on it.
She was frozen with fear. “What?”
“You heard me.” I shoved the few things left on her bed into the suitcase and pulled off the thin blanket that rested at the foot of the bed. “Wrap this around you. It will be cold in the car.
“Sonny?” she whispered.
“We’re leaving.”
“What?”
I picked up her suitcase and looked at her. But I said nothing.
Her blue eyes widened with understanding. “It’s not a good place, is it?”
I shook my head. “No, Daisy girl. It’s not.”
She nodded and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like a shawl. “Okay.” She let out a shaky breath. “Right. Okay.”
Together, bags packed, my keys in my hand, we hurriedly made it to my car in less than three minutes. I unlocked the passenger side door first, threw the luggage onto the backseat, and watched as Daisy scooted into the car. I shut her safely inside.
Once I got in myself, I started up the Mustang and prayed there’d be no bullshit waiting for us at the gates.
Whatever these people were about, they sure weren’t very smart or organized. The gates were flung open, and all around, members were circling each other in confusion, debating whether to go after the women or to see to the fire, which had now gotten higher, surrounded in smoke. I hoped Daisy’s friends would get out of this forsaken place in time. But the woman seated next to me was the only priority I had now. They’d have to manage on their own.
In seconds, we were out of there. In my rearview mirror, I could see the women in white running in the opposite direction, hell-bent on never returning to whatever hell they’d been through.
As soon as we got on the main road, I stopped at a payphone and made a call, giving the directions to the commune. I hung up before the operator could ask my name. With or without it, I knew help was on the way and that Abe was headed up shit’s creek. That was all that mattered to me.
Chapter Five
Daisy was silent as I drove through the night. I eventually turned on the radio to some AM station, barely listening to the man over the waves talking about our Lord and Savior. I kept the volume low, and at one point, about a half-hour into our drive, I looked ov
er to find Daisy asleep, her head facing me, mouth parted.
After about three hours on the road, I looked for signs of a motel and gas station. I was running on a quarter of a tank and was getting drowsy myself. The road just kept on going, though, nothing in sight, until ten minutes later, I saw a sign.
I pulled into a Motel 6 and got out of the car, locking it, leaving my sleepy girl inside. The office was right in front of the car, so if she woke up, she’d be able to see me.
When I came back, though, she was still dead to the world.
I drove to room number fourteen and cut the engine. “Daisy. Rose.” I touched her cheek, and she opened her sleepy eyes, confused at first, then she gave me a drowsy smile. “Come on. I got us a room.”
I went around and opened her door for her, leaving the bags in the car. As soon as we got into the room, I turned on the light and looked at the bed. Not a double suite, just your standard single. One bed. Shit.
I turned to her. “Go ahead and use the bathroom, get ready for bed. I’m going to get our bags.”
She looked so lost standing there, her arms crossed, blanket still wrapped around her. But she nodded and headed to the bathroom, where she turned on the light and shut the door. I let out a deep breath and got our stuff from the car.
Jesus, what a night.
When I came back, Daisy was still in the bathroom, and I heard the shower running. Good. That would help her. I put her luggage on the small table-for-two by the window, then grabbed a clean shirt and some loose bottoms to sleep in. The shower stopped running, and I sat down on the bed, rubbing my jaw. I needed a good shave, but it would have to wait until morning. Instead, I sighed and took off my boots, setting them on the floor at the foot of the bed and out of the way.
Daisy came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, her long golden hair darker than normal and hanging in damp ropes. She looked at me, then away.
“Your suitcase is over there,” I said, pointing to the table. “Go ahead and change. I’ll give you some privacy.”
