The Peculiar Night of the Blue Heart
Page 11
The blue creature snarled, not at Lionel, but at some memory his words evoked.
“We’re the same, you and me,” Lionel said. “You see how awful humans can be, and you would rather be anything else. You don’t want to be a girl anymore. That’s okay. You don’t have to be.”
The blue creature breathed fast, shallow breaths.
“I can help you,” Lionel said. “But not alone. I need Marybeth back. Please. She isn’t yours.”
The blue creature looked at him, and then, in a blink, the blue glow faded away, and all that Lionel could see was Marybeth’s pale skin. She raised her head, startled, as though breaking the surface after nearly drowning.
“L-Lionel?”
Lionel unbuttoned his coat and wrapped it around her, pulling up the collar in an attempt to shield her head from the rain. But it was no matter; she was already soaked through.
“It won’t stay a-asleep for l-long.” Her teeth were chattering, and she couldn’t form more words.
“It’s okay,” Lionel said. “I’ll help you. It’s okay.”
She stumbled when Lionel helped her to her feet, but she was able to move on wobbly legs until they made it back to the light coming from the open door to the building.
Mrs. Mannerd ran down the steps and ushered them inside. Once the door had been closed behind them, she knelt to look at Marybeth. Marybeth’s braids were coming undone and her hair had bits of twigs in it. But there was none of that blue tinge Mrs. Mannerd had seen earlier. It must have been a trick of the light, Mrs. Mannerd told herself.
Lionel and Marybeth sat on the floor in the lobby, huddled in a blanket and holding warm cups of tea. Marybeth had changed out of that awful gown and was wearing a brown gingham dress that Mrs. Mannerd had packed for her in the hatbox. Her bloody arm had been washed out and then wrapped in a cloth bandage by rough nurses who were afraid to touch her. She had finally stopped shivering, but still she hadn’t said a word.
Lionel stayed close by her side. Though the blue creature had hidden itself for now, he knew that it would be back. It always came back. Mrs. Mannerd was down the hall giving the nurses a piece of her mind for letting this happen, and Lionel knew he didn’t have much time to talk to Marybeth alone.
“I’ve found where the blue creature is buried,” he said quietly.
Marybeth looked at him. Her nose was running. She took a sip from her tea.
“You were right,” he said. “The blue creature is a girl. Or at least, it was, when she was alive. Someone murdered her and buried her in the shed behind the farmhouse. I dug up the bones.”
Marybeth drew her knees to her chest. “There’s a boy with blue buttons for a face,” she said. “I dream about him sometimes. I think that’s the murderer.” She looked at him. Her eyes were big and dark. “I don’t want to find him.”
“We just have to get you back to the farmhouse,” Lionel said. “If we show the blue creature where her body is, maybe she’ll go back to it.”
“And then we tell the police,” Marybeth said. “We have to. She should have a proper burial. Maybe that’s all she wants.”
Lionel was going to say more, but Marybeth put her head on his shoulder, and he knew that she was frightened. So all he said was, “Okay.”
“She can’t stay here,” a woman down the hall was telling Mrs. Mannerd. “She’s evil. She’s inhuman.”
“She’s only a child,” Mrs. Mannerd cried. “I made the awful mistake of trusting her to you in the first place. I wouldn’t make it again for all the riches in the queen’s palace.”
Mrs. Mannerd stormed down the hall and took the cups of tea from Lionel’s and Marybeth’s hands and set them on the floor. “Come on, children. Come on, up, up, we’re leaving.”
Lionel and Marybeth didn’t need to be told again. Still wrapped in the shared blanket, they jumped to their feet and followed Mrs. Mannerd out to the car.
Mrs. Mannerd sped down the dark road, hitting every bump and muttering curses.
Lionel and Marybeth were huddled under the blanket in the backseat, clinging to each other. “Stay down,” Marybeth whispered to the blue creature, so quietly that no one else could hear. “Stay down, stay down, stay down.” She sneezed, and Mrs. Mannerd glanced in the rearview mirror.
“Are you feeling sick?” Mrs. Mannerd asked. “Heaven knows how long you were out there—honestly, Marybeth, you used to have better sense.”
“I’m all right, Mrs. Mannerd, thank you,” Marybeth said, and sneezed again.
Lionel could feel the heat from the fever on her skin. She was shivering again. He was frightened, and for several minutes he contemplated what to do.
Marybeth must have been thinking about the same thing, because she whispered, “We should tell her.”
Lionel hesitated. He pulled the blanket up so that their faces were shielded from Mrs. Mannerd. “Once we get home, we can run away to the farmhouse. I’ll show you where the skeleton is.”
“Lionel, no,” Marybeth said, with heartbreaking practicality. “I won’t make it.”
“I’ll carry you,” he said. But Marybeth didn’t have to plead her case. He already knew she was right.
Marybeth lowered the blanket. “Mrs. Mannerd?” she said. “We have something to tell you.”
CHAPTER
18
Mrs. Mannerd did not believe them about the blue creature. Or, at least, she was trying not to. “It was a figment of your imagination,” she said, looking at Marybeth in the mirror. “It was dark and you were in a panic after you fell into the river.”
“I saw it, too,” Lionel said.
“You also think that you can turn into a bear,” Mrs. Mannerd reasoned.
Lionel climbed out of the blanket and leaned over Mrs. Mannerd’s seat so that he could get a better look at her. She glanced between him and the road. “You’ve seen it,” Lionel said. “I know you have.”
“Lionel, sit back down. No more of this. I’m taking you both home, and, Marybeth, I’m calling the doctor first thing in the morning and praying you don’t get pneumonia.”
“What if we can prove it?” Lionel said. “What if we can prove that all of this is real, and that there is a blue creature?”
“If you can prove it, I’ll dance on the kitchen table,” Mrs. Mannerd said.
“Okay,” Lionel said. “Don’t take us straight home. Take us to the farmhouse. I’ll prove everything.”
He sat back in his seat, quite proud of himself. But his triumph was short lived when he saw Marybeth. She had wrapped herself more tightly in the blanket, and her eyes were as shiny as the wet glass of the car windows.
Lionel put his hands on her cheeks. Burning hot. She stared tiredly back at him.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Trust me.”
She curled up against him and closed her eyes.
It was a long drive home. Mrs. Mannerd kept stealing worried glances at Marybeth in the rearview mirror.
Lionel was doing his best not to be angry with the blue creature for what it had done to Marybeth. It was frightened, and tying a frightened thing down in a sterile room was of course going to cause it to panic.
But while Marybeth had this ghost inside her skin, she was only human, and the cold had been too much for her. Lionel had never seen her so tired and frail.
By the time they were close to home, and the buildings through the window began to look familiar, Marybeth was struggling to stay awake. She sat up straight, blinking hard.
Neither of the children were sure whether Mrs. Mannerd would give them their chance to prove the blue creature’s existence. But when the red house approached, Mrs. Mannerd muttered, “Oh, what am I doing?” and drove straight past it.
When they reached the farmhouse, Mrs. Mannerd switched off the engine and turned around in her seat and said, “I hope you know this is trespassing. What is it that you have to show me?”
Lionel opened the door, and as Marybeth moved to follow him, Mrs. Mannerd said, “No, I won’t hav
e you back out in this rain catching your death.”
“I have to,” Marybeth said, with much authority. “Trust us.”
Mrs. Mannerd wasn’t given much choice. Marybeth wrapped the blanket around herself like a cloak and followed Lionel out into the night.
The rain had subsided, but the wind had picked up. Lionel moved slowly, holding up the tufts of blanket so Marybeth wouldn’t trip. With Mrs. Mannerd on their heels, they made their way to the barn.
Mrs. Mannerd, at least for the moment, had stopped voicing her skepticisms as she followed them.
Lionel threw open the door to the barn, and he felt an awful sense of dread deep within his stomach. Marybeth bristled, and Lionel wondered if she felt it, too, but she only sneezed.
Mrs. Mannerd struck a match and lit the emergency lantern she kept in the car. And in the sudden light, both she and Lionel were stricken by Marybeth’s appearance.
Her eyes were sunken, with pale blue bags beneath them. The part of her hair was blue.
Lionel took her hand and led her deeper into the barn. When he reached the softened earth, he picked up the shovel and began the awful task of digging.
“Lionel, this is not our property,” Mrs. Mannerd said.
“Let him,” Marybeth said. “Please.” She was too tired to stand, and she leaned against the wall.
Lionel felt the bone against the shovel, and he closed his eyes as he unearthed the next heap of dirt. When he finally allowed himself to open them, he could see the yellow dress, exactly where he’d left it.
Marybeth moved away from the wall. The blanket fell to a puddle at her feet as she marched toward the shallow grave.
With a heavy heart, Lionel unearthed the hollow skull.
“Heavens,” Mrs. Mannerd whispered.
The blue glow was back in Marybeth’s eyes. She dropped to her knees and reached into the grave.
“Marybeth, don’t,” Mrs. Mannerd said. But Marybeth was far away by then. There was only the blue creature, and when it saw what was left of its body, it let out a cry that no living thing could make.
Marybeth saw what the blue creature saw. She was inside its body, seeing through its eyes.
Lionel and Mrs. Mannerd were gone. The shallow grave and the bones were gone. The blue creature was wearing the yellow dress.
The dress was much brighter here, and it swished when the blue creature moved.
Marybeth watched as though she were in someone else’s dream. The blue creature had the hands of a girl, and she pushed open the door to the barn, and a voice called out, “Liza!”
The blue creature turned its head toward the woods, where a boy in suspenders was wielding an ax.
The blue creature loved the boy. Marybeth could feel it in its heart. But not in the way that she loved Lionel. There was something different, something Marybeth had to search for before she understood. The blue creature loved the boy the way that Marybeth had, so long ago, loved her father. Like family.
She found that part of the blue creature’s heart and she lingered there, enjoying the sensation of it. Family. It was a rare, musical word in her world.
The blue creature ran to him, the yellow dress fluttering against her legs. Always running. The blue creature hated to be still, even in death.
The blue creature reached the boy, her brother, and everything went dark.
Marybeth heard the blue creature scream. She felt it in its lungs. She tasted blood, felt the blue creature’s legs breaking.
When the light came back, Marybeth saw blurred faces. The blue creature’s mouth filled with water, and when it looked up it saw only one face. The boy, her brother, and then her eyes were covered by water, and his face blurred into blue marbles, with dark sockets for eyes.
CHAPTER
19
Marybeth tried to scream, but all that came out was a feeble cry.
The blue marble face turned into Lionel, whose eyes were big and concerned. She was lying in the dirt, and she struggled to move but her head felt too heavy to lift.
“Marybeth!” Mrs. Mannerd cried. She wrapped her in the blanket and lifted her up into her arms. “That’s it, I’m getting you home and phoning the doctor.”
Lionel had to pace to keep up with Mrs. Mannerd, she was moving so fast. “You can’t,” he said. “They’ll take it away.”
Mrs. Mannerd didn’t stop, and she didn’t answer. All she said was, “Get in the car,” and her tone was so frightening that Lionel listened.
Marybeth closed her eyes and tried to finish the dream the blue creature had shown her in the barn.
“Liza?” she whispered. Her head felt as though it was full of wind. There was no answer.
As soon as they returned to the house, Mrs. Mannerd made a makeshift bed for Marybeth on the couch. Lionel sat on the floor beside her, straining to listen to the words Mrs. Mannerd was saying into the phone out in the hall. But for once, he couldn’t hear any of it. He was too distracted by Marybeth’s sniffling and chattering teeth. She was murmuring things that faded into incoherence.
Marybeth’s hair was turning blue. It was a slight change, and it could be mistaken for a trick of the light, but Lionel knew it was only going to get worse. “It’s not gone, is it?” he said, when she opened her eyes.
“No,” Marybeth said. She was so very tired. “But I know her name now. It was Liza.”
“Liza,” Lionel echoed. It was such a normal, sensible name for such a destructive thing.
“I think she was murdered,” Marybeth said. “But I don’t know what happened. Everything went black.”
“Try and think,” Lionel said. “What did you see?”
“The farmhouse,” Marybeth said. “And her brother. Maybe he was just a little older than we are. But I never saw anyone like that at the farmhouse, did you?”
An instinctive growl left Lionel’s throat. “Reginald,” he said. “The old woman’s son.”
Marybeth’s eyes widened. “You’re right.”
“You said the blue creature hated him. That’s it. He killed her.”
“He killed his sister?” Marybeth shook her head against her pillow. “No, that can’t be it. She loved him. I felt it.”
“Just because you love someone doesn’t mean they can’t hurt you,” Lionel said.
Marybeth’s tired face gave way to concern. “I heard what you said in the woods,” she told him. “You said that you and the blue creature are the same. You said that you both know how awful humans can be. What did you mean?”
Lionel turned away from her.
“Lionel,” Marybeth said.
He growled, not at her but at the memory she was reviving.
Marybeth leaned over the edge of the couch and petted his hair. “You can tell me,” she said.
A clap of thunder shook the house. The grandfather clock rattled against the wall.
Mrs. Mannerd came into the room with a thermometer. “I can’t get ahold of anybody at this hour, but I’m going to keep trying. Are you feeling any better?” She stuck the thermometer into Marybeth’s mouth before she could answer.
Marybeth’s head lolled against the pillow like it was suddenly too heavy for her neck. Lionel was not sure whether the cold or the blue creature was to blame, or both, but he feared either way that she was dying.
Dying. The word was an echo in the darkest cave of his mind.
Mrs. Mannerd withdrew the thermometer and frowned at it. She left the room and came back with a spoon of foul-smelling medicine that Marybeth dutifully took.
After Mrs. Mannerd had gone, Lionel crawled onto the couch and sat at her feet.
Marybeth could not stay awake no matter how she tried, and after she had been asleep for several minutes, Lionel whispered, “Liza?”
There was no answer.
“I think you can hear me,” Lionel said. “I think you’re faking it.”
Marybeth’s eyelashes fluttered.
“Those are your bones in the barn. Maybe you don’t like it, but that’s you. Marybeth
needs her own body back. What will happen if you kill her? You aren’t sharing a body with me. I’ll throw you back in the river if you try.”
Marybeth’s raspy breathing gave way to an angry hiss.
“I’ll do it,” Lionel said. “You kill Marybeth, I throw you back in that river for good. But if you come out now, I’ll help you.”
It was quiet for a long time, save for the thunder and the rain.
Marybeth gasped in her sleep.
The dream returned.
This time, Marybeth was no longer sharing a body with the blue creature. She had no body at all. She was the wind that moved through the trees. She was invisible and she saw everything.
Liza was not a frightening blue creature. She was a girl just like Marybeth, with braided pigtails and a yellow dress.
“Here,” Reginald said. “You hold the ax, and I’ll show you how to do it.”
Though Marybeth did not share a body with Liza in this dream, she heard heavy footsteps crushing twigs in the woods, and she felt Liza’s fear.
The boys that skulked into the clearing were as tall as Reginald, and they didn’t have names or faces—only dark and sinister eyes.
Liza clutched the ax in her unsteady fingers. “Get out of here,” she said, in a voice that was very brave despite the fear churning her stomach. “I said I’d tell my mother if you came back here. I know what you did to our hens.”
“Liza, shut up,” Reginald said. He was the one who sounded frightened.
The boys moved closer. There were three of them, but it felt as though there were a hundred.
“Go back to the house,” Reginald told Liza.
“No,” she said. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Don’t be stupid. Go inside.”
One of the boys grabbed Liza by the arms, and the ax left her grip and fell to her feet with a hard sound of metal hitting dirt. The boy’s face was nothing but dark eyes and snarling teeth, like something rabid. “She isn’t going inside,” the boy said. “She isn’t going anywhere just yet.”