by Anya Allyn
Someone plays Chopin on the pipe organ. The round door clicks open and the people make their way out. Audette’s voice is louder and shriller than anyone’s, reminding the others of their next meeting.
I know now that this has happened before, these meetings. While I slept in the house, these people were down here, conjuring shadows….
30. CHILD EPHEMERAL
Audette shakes me awake and doesn’t care that her fingernails dig into me. She has so much makeup on, she looks like a witch. Her eyes are a cold, glittery blue in the late afternoon light.
“I feel bad,” I tell her.
After spending the night in the car, I’d taken the elevator up in the early morning and stolen into my bed. Exhausted and sick, I’d slept all day. As soon as Audette and Henry went out in their car for the day, I planned to find my way out of the forest. I didn’t know where I would go, but somewhere where they couldn’t find me.
Her hand clamps against my forehead. “You’re burning up. Well we’re not changing plans. We’ve got company and you’re to come downstairs and meet them.” A smile curls her dark red lips as she holds up a box. “Someone just brought this to the house for you.”
“Grandfather? Is he here?” My breath catches in my chest.
“No, stupid. Grandfather’s forgotten all about you. This is from someone who hasn’t forgotten you.”
The box is easy to open—no strings or ties. A big white dress sits inside. “Tell them thank you,” I say stiffly.
“You can thank them properly by wearing it.”
Her voice is slimier than usual.
“It’s too big for me.”
“Just put it on.”
I saw the gun you pressed against Thomas’s temple. And what you made happen to him. I hate you. I hate you.
“I don’t want to.”
“If you don’t, I’ll get Henry up here, and we’ll strip you and put it on you ourselves.”
I stare at the floor for a moment, wishing myself anywhere but here. I pull off my slip and let it fall on the floor. Audette drops the dress over my head. She’s not gentle when she does the strings up at the back. Next, she fiddles with my hair, combing and pulling and sticking pins in it. She holds my face between her thumb and fingers, then dusts it with powder that makes me cough. She puts greasy red lipstick on my lips and tells me to rub my lips together.
“You’re a young lady now and you should look like one.” she says. “Have a look.” She points to an oval full-length mirror in my room. “I’ve brought you this in from my room.”
I shake my head firmly. “Grandfather doesn’t want me to have a mirror. He says mirrors can’t show your soul.”
Her nose pinches as she frowns. I can see up her nostrils. “Your grandfather is a few clowns short of a circus. Of course people need mirrors. Now take a good look. You haven’t seen yourself in a while and it’s time you did.”
I count my steps as I walk to the other side of the room, trying to stretch out time. One, two, buckle my shoe. Three, four, knock at the door. Five, six, pickup sticks.
Audette hisses impatiently.
Someone else looks back at me in the mirror. It is me but not me. I am stretched, grown, strange—like a reflection in a funhouse mirror. My face is longer, my cheeks not so round. The dress is a big girl’s dress but it fits me. My eyes stare wildly like the eyes of the bobcat that once got trapped in Miss Kitty’s trailer.
“What a big girl you are. Fifteen tomorrow.”
I shake my head. “I am not.”
“Oh yes you are.”
She moves so that she stands behind me in the mirror. “Shame about the scars.”
Scars form on my neck and shoulder, bubbling up and spreading in angry dark red slashes. I gasp, holding a hand to cover them. I remember the scars, remember seeing them before—in the hospital.
“You’re ruined, Jessamine. You were a pretty girl, but you’re ruined now.” She pats some powder over the scars, but they don’t disappear completely.
“Can I take this dress off now?” My voice is small.
“No. Someone is waiting to see you in this. It’s your wedding dress.” Her cigar breath sighs in the air. “Don’t you remember Mr. Baldcott? You’re getting married soon. Another month maybe. ” Her face hardens.
I turn my back to the mirror, swallowing hard. My head hurts and feels wrong. I try to tear the dress off but I can’t reach the corset ties at the back. What is Audette talking about? I’m not getting married. And this is not my wedding dress.
“I want daddy.”
“Oh sweetie, that’s never going to happen. Don’t you know why?”
“He’s trapped on an island with mother. No one can get to them and they can’t get off. But grandfather has gone to find them.”
She laughs without opening her mouth, making a deep sound in her throat. “They’re not on an island. They’re dead. Both of them.”
Panic rises inside me. “No, they’re not. You’re a liar.”
“Daddy died a long time before mommy. Don’t you remember the knife that got stuck in his chest?” She makes a fist and pretends to stab herself.
I see a wheel spinning in the air, not attached to anything. There’s a blue star in the center of the wheel, and a bright streak of blood.
A moaning sound comes from deep within me and doesn’t stop.
Audette frowns in disgust. “Compose yourself. You are a young lady. I’ll be waiting.” She whirls from the room.
I open the trinket box grandfather brought me and take out his note. I hold it against my chest, rocking backwards and forth. It’s all I have left. A promise. Closing my eyes I step back to the mirror and slide the note into the mirror’s frame. If she makes me look in the mirror again, I’ll look at grandfather’s note instead and I’ll hear his words, you and only you. Because that’s the only thing I understand. Grandfather is coming back for me.
“Closing your eyes won’t help.” Audette’s sharp voice slices the air around me. “Get out there now.” She taps her foot in the doorway.
I push at Audette as I run past. The dress makes me trip on the stairs. I stop like a deer in headlights at the bottom of the stairs. There are people here. Lots of people. People from last night.
Audette stands with her gloved arms folded at the tops of the stairs.
With my head down, I make my way through the loud, sniggering crowd. Wine glasses clink above the sound of New Orleans jazz playing on the gramophone. Thick smoke fills the ballroom and chokes my lungs. Through the haze, eyes stare at me.
A man presses up against me. “Jessamine, where are you going in such a hurry?”
His face is bloated, reddened. I remember him. I remember a night in grandfather’s tent. I remember a dance, a dance where the feel of his body against mine made my skin crawl.
“You’re going to make a sexy bride.” His breath is hot on my face. “Do you like the dress I bought for you?”
“No,” I shout at him.
The faces around me laugh at me with their mouths open wide and all their teeth showing.
His face drops. “Oh now that’s not polite. You’re going to have to do better than that on our wedding night, when you’re in my bed. You can’t tell your husband, no.” His gaze fixes to my chest. “Then again, perhaps I shouldn’t keep you waiting that long.”
Audette treads down the stairs, her eyes gleaming. “I must apologize for her behavior, Allan. She’s running a bit of a fever today.”
Something different enters his eyes. “I’ll take her for a walk to cool down.”
He takes my arm and I go with him. Not one person is here to stop him. Not one. I try to tug my hand away but he holds tight. He heads outside to the porch and then down to the tree where Thomas planted my rose bushes. The animals and birds of the forest hammer their screeches through my head.
His hands grasp my shoulders. “You do feel hot. Well, I have a suggestion. This dress looks incredible on you but it has far too much material.”
My dress hangs loosely around my shoulders. He pulls it down in a single motion. My bare skin feels a cool rush of night air. A sound rumbles within his throat. His hands grab at my chest, squeezing and pinching. It hurts. It feels wrong, wrong, wrong. He stops to unbuckle his trousers.
My mind scatters.
I run. Across the dark grounds. I run to the only place I can. The place grandfather made for me. The elevator is already at the bottom. I climb down the rope stairs and send the elevator back up. I don’t want to go beyond the Wheel of Death. I climb back into grandfather’s car. I shake uncontrollably as I lower my knees and head to the floor.
Sharp memories jab me.
Mother dead and tangled in her wheelchair. Miss Kitty lying face-down on the rocks, her head smashed in. The train lying like a broken Christmas toy below the mountains. Grandfather and the stars. Mr Baldcott and his wedding ring. Blood on the Wheel of Death after they pulled daddy from it….
I’m fourteen, I’m fourteen, I’m fourteen.
The hum of the elevator vibrates through my bones.
“Jess! Jessamine! Are you down here?” Henry calls.
I hear Audette’s shoes on the rock floor. Only Audette walks with that scrape-clomp sound.
“Fuck you, Audette. You didn’t have to do this to the kid,” he says.
“Someone had to. She couldn’t act like a baby forever. And you didn’t have to punch Mr. Baldcott out.” Her voice is whiny and pleading.
“The bastard wasn’t supposed to lay his filthy hands on her before the wedding. And I was planning on getting rid of him before Jess would have even had to marry him.”
“He was tired of waiting.”
Someone else walks up to Henry and Audette, someone with squeaky shoes. “You’re lucky I don’t have you tied up and thrown in the river, Fiveash. I don’t appreciate your jab to the temple. I’m going to get a black eye out of this.”
The sound of Mr. Baldcott’s voice sends icy water through my intestines.
“I saw what you were doing to Jess, Baldcott. You weren’t supposed to do that shit.”
“She’s mine, right? That’s what we agreed on as part of all this. I mean, I am bankrolling this whole venture. I’m paying men around the clock to hunt the old guy down and get the book. We’re talking seven different countries at the moment. And it all could be a wild goose chase.”
“The agreement was marriage. When she’s of age,” Henry tells him.
“The way things are going, there’s no incentive for me to marry her. No circus, no fortune, no prospects. Unless the old man does have a secret fortune and properties stashed away and you’re not telling me. So Henry, are you playing me for a chump?”
“No, of course not. Let’s just go have a few drinks and forget all this.”
The squeak of Mr. Baldcott’s shoes draws nearer. “So the old guy put his 1910 Model T down here. In perfect nick, but why would you bother keeping one of these crankers when you can have a LaFayette?”
“Let’s go, Henry,” Audette whines. “Our guests are waiting.”
“I’ll just hang here for a bit,” says Mr. Baldcott. “I got a nasty headache from that punch in the head I copped. And I like looking at circus stuff.”
I scream silently as Henry says, “Suit yourself. I’ll go find Jess.”
For a moment I want to jump from the car and run to Henry. But I hear the elevator moving and I know Henry has already gone. I stay perfectly still, barely taking a breath. Until Mr. Baldcott has gone too, I need to stay here like this.
His legs move across in front of my vision. He stoops, his needling blue eyes staring into mine. “Hoo, there she is, my little runaway bride. Is this a game? Well, never let it be said I’m not up for games. How about you run and I’ll catch you?”
Blood leaves my head and I nod rigidly. “Up there in the forest.” I point to the elevator.
“Oh no, that gives you far too much advantage. You little circus monkey—you’ll be climbing a tree in no time, swinging from branch to branch. That’s hardly fair. No, we’ll have the game in the tunnels.”
“I don’t want to go in there.”
“Well, that’s the game. Unless you’d like to christen your grandfather’s car here and now.”
I don’t know what he means but I don’t want to find out.
A humorless smile stretches his round face. He pulls me from the car and takes me over to the pipe organ. Reaching around my middle, he plays the tune that unlatches the Wheel of Death.
I bolt to the carousel, so fast that I leave him huffing far behind me. My heart thuds against my ribs. I could hide in a kitchen cupboard. No—if he found me so easily in the car, he could find me in a cupboard. The store room, the ballroom, the bathroom—all had hiding places but nowhere that I can't be found. A lump forms in my throat. I grab the Andy doll and crush it to me, as though it can save me. A single thought enters my head. The statue of Saint Jerome—grandfather had said he was here to watch over me. But down in the dark tunnel, the horror that was the shadow might still lurk.
I hear Mr. Balcott’s chuckle echo in the still air. My mind and body numb, I blunder through to the secret passage and run to the statue of Saint Jerome. In the pitch darkness I desperately feel his face. One of my arms falls through the wall next to Saint Jerome. Someone has moved the statue away from the cave opening. Mr. Baldcott will not find me in there. I climb into it. My knees scrape over bags of hard things—the bags of grandfather’s treasure. I push Raggedy Andy ahead of me—a buffer from the darkness of a tunnel that leads straight down. I lay my feverish head on Andy’s chest and curl into a ball, my body spent.
I hear the secret door scrape across and know that Mr. Balcott saw me open it. He must have brought a lamp with him, for a dim light taints the air.
A darkness creeps across the ceiling of the cave. I cannot move as the shadow drips into the small space with me. It’s all around me like a magician’s cape, pulling tighter. A thousand, thousand, thousand little pincers piece my skin. I’m going to die. Like Thomas died.
The shadow whispers deep inside me. Come with me. I’ll take you to your grandfather. Come now….
No! Grandfather said he would come get me. I breathe wildly, willing the shadow to leave me. My screams echo through the cave. “I’ll never go with you. I’ll never go with you.”
Another shadow moves across my body, the shadow of a man. “Never go with me will you, Jessamine? Well that’s hardly fair, seeing as I won the game. Peekaboo, I found you!”
Mr. Baldcott pudgy fingers slide over the edge of the tiny cave and he peers inside at me. His grin drops like a stone from his face as his eyes fix on the black mass that envelopes me. He turns to run, a pained cry twisting from his lungs.
The shadow springs from my body and swoops down on Mr. Baldcott. It winds itself around him, grinding itself into him. Until all that is left is black dust swirling in the air. And the shadow is gone.
Pains shoot through my chest. I know the thick metallic liquid in my throat is blood. I want to crawl out and run, but weakness claims every part of me. My breaths are ragged as my blood drips onto the doll’s soft chest. Heat like a furnace sears my body. I drift into the darkness of sleep and close out every thought and conscious fear.
CASSIE
Present Day
31. BATOPILAS
My heart caught high in my chest at the sight of the valley charging away from us. The mountain road dipped into a series of sharp switchbacks—a ragged zigzag cutting through the bare mountains. Rocks skittered under the wheel of the car.
Zach’s arm came tight around my shoulder. “Close your eyes until we reach the bottom.”
“How far is that?”
“A six hour drive, according the GPS.” Emerson shot me a shrugging glance over his shoulder. He negotiated a corner where a
beeping truck came at us from the other direction. There didn’t seem enough room for us and the truck, but we narrowly scraped past each other.
“Lethal,” Zach muttered under his breath, but he turned to smile at me.
As soon as I’d mentioned needing to go to Copper Canyon, Zach had insisted on himself, Parker and Emerson coming along too. The boys had dropped everything to organize the trip and I was grateful they were here with us. They had made the difference between mom allowing us to go or not go—almost. In her mind, the dangers of Molly and I travelling to a remote part of Mexico had swapped to the dangers of Molly and I being alone with three teenage boys. Help had come at the last hour from the most unexpected person—my father. Andy had volunteered to travel down to Copper Canyon on the day after our arrival and keep a close eye on me and Molly. He said he could do with a few days off, and told me he’d been to this part of Mexico before and could help show us around. Mom had begrudgingly agreed that Molly and I could go—although she didn’t understand why we hadn’t just chosen a Florida resort to go holiday in if we’d needed time away.
Molly sat in the seat next to Parker and Emerson, silent and focused, seeming barely bothered by the chaotic ride.
A family of Tarahumara Indians rounded the next corner on foot, appearing as though from nowhere. In leather sandals that looked homemade, they trod down the mountainous road with ease.
The air grew warmer the further we travelled towards the valley. Zach’s body heated against mine. Despite everything, I was looking forward to spending time with him. After what he’d said to me in the yacht, I knew we were on borrowed time.
Maybe everyone in the world was on borrowed time. And this time with Zach would be amongst my last hours. It didn’t seem possible, here in this bright, surreal landscape. I hadn’t told Zach everything. There was no way I could. With some things, you had to experience them for yourself or you wouldn’t believe them. It was enough of a stretch for him to understand that people were pursuing me and hypnotizing me in order to find the location of a book.
