by Sue Clifton
“Wait! Please don’t go!” But there was no answer. Billie was alone again. Still, she somehow felt this new voice held compassion where none existed with the Keeper. In her mind, she began to devise a new plan.
Billie reached for her oatmeal, anxious to see if the bitter taste of drugs was there. It contained no bitterness. This was not her day to be examined, and she was secretly glad, not ready for her daring escape attempt. She would get one chance and one chance only, and felt she needed more time to plan and train. Her mattress contained the only aids she would have—the pocketknife and the Maglite.
The woman’s voice was the same at lunch and again at dinner, and she was the same one who read scripture and prayed for forgiveness of Billie’s sin before turning off the lights that night. Billie risked one more question at dinner, even though the woman had told her she could only read scripture to her and was not allowed to converse.
“When will the Keeper be back? I need to talk to the Keeper. What if I have complications with my baby?” It was a long shot, but with the new plan forming in her mind, Billie decided to risk it. The long seconds of silence following her question made her believe the woman would not answer.
“The Keeper will be gone for a while, but you are in good hands. I can help you. I have helped deliver many babies, even ones who come too early and don’t make it into this sinful world. Do not worry.” There was a pause before the woman spoke again. “Are you feeling any pain, Billie?”
“Only fluttering, but I don’t know what I should be feeling. I’m scared.”
“You feel your baby. Do not be afraid. If you yell for me, I will hear you.” And with that, the member of the Fold was gone.
Billie took out her Bible and turned to the concordance and looked up the word “fold.”
An enclosure for sheep.
Billie then looked up John 10 and read the full chapter to herself.
The Keeper thinks he is a protector of the sheep, whatever that means. His fold must be his followers. I wonder how many followers the Keeper has.
Billie closed the Bible and lay back down on her mattress.
I don’t feel like the sheep; I’m not being protected.
Feeling the flutter in her stomach, Billie caressed her baby as she always did. The lights were turned off in her cell, and Billie prepared herself for training.
As she climbed the wall that night, she devised her plan—a bold plan, but one that might just work if she could pull it off before the Keeper came back. When she lay back on her mattress ready to rest after an extra-long training session, she stuck her fingers into the hole under her mattress and moved the knife and the Maglite closer to the hole, ready to be grasped in a hurry.
As she did every night now, she moved her lips, mouthing her words of comfort.
Be strong; fear not! God will save you!
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Piper dreamed again of the gloomy cabin in the burned forest, a repeated dream even though she had sketched and painted it thinking this would prevent its recurrence. But this time, the dream continued and changed scenes without any transition or spooky prelude music like movies used to indicate something horrifying was about to happen. It was her worst nightmare, the one she had not told her mom or Zach about—another situation she had sketched hurriedly after dreaming it, hoping to ward off a repeat.
She was no longer looking at the drab cabin in the burned-out forest but found she was underground, feeling her way along a dark cave or tunnel. She trembled in terror but could not shake herself out of the nightmare. A small beam of light appeared as if lighting her way, intentionally coaxing her down a different path. But after she started down the new tunnel, the light disappeared, leaving her in blackness again. She stopped and closed her eyes tightly, trying to get her eyes adjusted to the dark. When she started walking again, Piper heard a girl moaning just ahead.
She hastened her step, heading toward the sound and walking faster than she should in the dark. She heard the moan again, softer but closer, and hurried forward, barely touching the wall as she moved. The moaning stopped, but the urgency to reach the girl and help her had not.
A few more feet and I’ll reach her, whoever she is. I have to help her!
Suddenly, the ground dropped from beneath her! She plummeted, landing with a thud and knocking the breath from her lungs. She landed on something softer than the ground. Pain raced through her body. Piper panted, waiting until she got her breath back, and then felt under her, moving her aching body quickly to the side. It was a body—a small person, a girl, and she lay on her stomach. Piper felt all over the girl’s body until she found her hand. She put her own hand around the girl’s wrist, feeling for a pulse.
No pulse!
Piper felt for the girl’s head and put her ear to her mouth.
She’s not breathing!
The girl’s body was still pliable, so there might be a chance to save her. Piper needed to turn the girl over and apply CPR. As she turned her over, something fell to the ground. She grasped it, something small. A Maglite!
She twisted the end of the flashlight, and it cast a beam of light around the deep hole she and the girl now shared.
Piper screamed; her voice echoed off the rock walls of the tight enclosure, bouncing back into her terror-filled subconscious.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When Piper came in, her aunt and mom were in the kitchen gathering up what would be needed for the wagon train trip the next day. Piper had been up for hours but had not come downstairs. Her gut, her Gift, told her the horrible nightmare was important, and she had to get it on paper quickly while all the gory details were vivid in her mind, even though she had sketched it quickly once before. This time, the dream had been much clearer, so she added details hidden from her the first time the nightmare occurred. As she had looked at the finished sketch, she knew there was one more detail to add. She closed her eyes, getting the marking in her memory, and had finished the drawing.
“Need any help?” Piper looked around at the work in progress in the kitchen.
“Always. You can tape those boxes and pack these dry goods.” Her mom looked past Piper. “Where’s Zach?”
“He went with Hank to get the horses. Hank wants to ride up the trail we’ll be following tomorrow to make sure the sites are ready for camping.” Piper rubbed her hands together and smiled. “I can’t wait! This will be so much fun…like the old days at the ranch, huh, Mom?”
“So true, but I don’t remember having outhouses all along the way.”
“Wow! What a luxury!” Harri drawled in sarcasm. She stopped and looked at Cayce. “You were serious about that battery-operated hair dryer and curling iron, weren’t you?”
Cayce laughed. “Curling iron, yes. Blow dryer, no. But I’ve got an extra western hat you can borrow.”
“Never mind. I’ll just wad my hair up under one of your baseball caps and look like Peg. But I’m taking my swimsuit and hitting every hot springs pool we come to. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Cayce held out her hand to Harri, who sealed the deal with a good firm shake. “But I don’t think you could look like Peg if you were playing her on Broadway.”
“I just hope Hank gets me the extra help he promised for cooking and cleaning up. I’m used to quite a bit of help in the Teacake, you know.”
“We’ll help. I told you Zach and I both will help.” Piper packed the boxes. “About the ride up today, I’m going. How about you, Mom?”
“Yep! You know I’m not going to be left behind. And I’m planning on taking a fly rod and my vintage creel I absolutely love, dear, thoughtful daughter. Maybe we’ll bring back some more trout for you to cook, Harri.”
“I’m taking my new Winston, too. I’ve never gotten a chance to use it. Hank says there are some streams full of brookies and cutthroat in the high country. Zach wants to use his vintage Hardy, too.”
“I’m taking my gold pan…that is, when we take the wagons up. I’m hoping there’s something more lu
crative than trout in those mountain streams.” Harri rubbed her hands together.
“Fly fishing, panning for gold—it should be fun.” Cayce walked into the pantry and brought out a big bag of flour and a container of shortening. “Why don’t you go today, Harri? You can stand one afternoon astride a horse.”
“Yeah. Right.” Harri bowed her legs and walked slowly to the pantry. “Not on your life, Sista. Actually, Teesh is coming over and we’re going through her old newspapers to see if we can find any information about the”—she made the universal gesture for quotation marks—“black fog. I’ve got us some leftover stew and biscuits ready to heat up, and I’m hoping Charlie will come by and eat pie with us.”
“Teesh told you to stop worrying, Harri.” Cayce headed back to the pantry. “Boy, you sure did an about-face about the Peeping Tom, or Boo Radley, as you referred to him.”
“Yeah. I really like Charlie. He’s such a good soul. I feel blessed to know him.” Harri took out the vintage Dutch ovens. “Look at these. All cleaned up and cured to perfection. I’m adding my method of curing cast iron to the cookbook.”
“I think Charlie has taken a special liking to you and your chocolate factory, Harri,” Piper added. “And Sara sure does love him, as well as Teesh.”
“Yeah, but Teesh is a little vague about Charlie’s family, especially Lester. She changes the subject or gives a partial story every time I ask her about Lester’s relationship, or lack of one, with Charlie. And Lester is Charlie’s financial guardian. What’s up with that?”
“I’m sure Teesh has Charlie’s interest at heart. She really loves that little man.” Harri picked up a giant bag of marshmallows and threw it to Cayce, who put it in the box and picked up the tape, ready to close the box.
“Oh, wait! Before you close that box, I have something very important to add.” Harri walked into the parlor, and Piper heard her open the small coat closet, a recent addition by the front door.
“Here you go. An absolute must for camping, if you’re taking marshmallows, that is.”
“Coat hangers?” Piper asked. “What do we need with coat hangers on a camping trip?”
“I’ll show you, dear niece.” Harri unwound the twisted wire from around the hook. Cayce smiled.
“Once I get this straightened out, it will be perfect for roasting marshmallows.” Harri held her breath and bit her lip in an attempt to get the tough tight wire separated from the hook. She stopped and grabbed the hook to twist it away from the rest of the wire.
“We could just trim green sticks to a point like Dad used to do,” Piper offered. “I think it would be easier.”
“Boy, this is a lot harder than it used to be. They just don’t make coat hangers like they used to.” Harri grunted and shook her fingers. “Here, you’re a strong rancher woman. You try it.”
As soon as Cayce took the coat hanger, she stopped and stared at it. She pulled the other end of the hanger, making it elongated, and twisted the hook downward, inside the shape she had created.
“Look familiar?” As she held the hanger up, Harri stared with her mouth open.
Piper had no clue what was so exciting about a bent hanger and lost interest, going to look out the window. “They’re here!” She took off for the parlor as her mom handed the hanger to her aunt, and then they both followed Piper.
Her aunt muttered, “So much for helping.”
When Piper looked back, her aunt shrugged, holding up the hanger shape, staring at it.
****
Cayce and Piper finished saddling their horses before Hank and Zach got the packhorse loaded.
“You girls didn’t waste any time,” Zach commented as he saddled his horse.
“It has been months since I’ve ridden. I can’t wait, Zach. I’ll always be a cowgirl at heart, even though I might be an urban cowgirl sometimes.” Piper mounted her horse and rode it around the yard. Soon, Cayce, Zach, and Hank joined her.
Harri came out on the porch, Teesh following, each with a glass of iced tea in hand.
“Guess you don’t know what time you’ll be getting back?” Harri asked.
“Nope. Don’t wait supper on us, Harri.” Cayce looked up to see Zach and Piper loping up the canyon trail. “We’ll grab a sandwich when we get back.” Cayce kicked her horse and headed after the two.
“I’ve got my satellite phone, Harri, if you need us for any reason.” Hank mounted his horse and headed after Cayce.
****
Harri and Teesh pored over the volumes of old newspapers, having decided to search just the period up to 1928. The stacks of the Bar None Sentry rose to a height hiding the two of them.
“I’m not sure we needed every volume of the newspaper, but I know Zach is interested in the town when it was in its heyday. Cayce and I are more interested in it from the beginning of the early twentieth century. Looks like Zach emptied your cellar.”
“It’s fine, Harri. I haven’t had this much interest in the newspaper since the museum came to look.”
Harri told Teesh about Cayce and the others having the question game with Sara the night before in the bathhouse and how Sara was terrified of the black fog. Teesh did not think the Reverend Mather had lived during her and Sara’s lifetime, and since Belle died in 1928, the Reverend had to have died prior to that time if Cayce’s paranormal experience in the saloon was true, and Harri sensed it was.
“Cayce and I have looked the cemetery over, and we never found the grave of Abel Mather. I wonder if he was buried somewhere else.”
“I doubt it. More than likely, his tombstone has disintegrated and his grave is no longer marked. That happened to a lot of the graves in the old cemetery.”
“Okay, Teesh, you start with the issues from the early nineteen hundreds, and I’ll take the first few years the paper was in business.”
An hour passed with neither finding anything about the Reverend’s death. Harri frequently walked to the window and looked out, hoping to see Charlie making his way toward the hotel. Teesh watched her and smiled.
“Now, you stop worrying about Charlie, Harri. He will be just fine. If the pie is gone, you’ll just have to make another one, and I know you will. I believe Charlie has found some really good friends, and you’re at the top of his list, Miss Harri of Harri’s Chocolate Factory.” Teesh chuckled, and Harri smiled as she walked back to the table.
“Now, back to the search for the Reverend Abel Mather.” Harri flipped through another volume.
****
I loathe Absalom’s lover. A snarl covered Belle’s face under her veil as she stared at the two women below. But Abel Mather makes my teeth gnash. I’ll help the lover’s sister and the old woman find out about Abel if it will send him to hell faster.
****
Another hour passed without the two finding anything about the black fog. The historians were in the kitchen eating stew when they heard a loud bang. They both hurried back into the parlor and found one of the volumes had fallen from the table, or had been pushed and lay open on the floor. Harri left it open and put the volume in front of Teesh, who began scanning the page.
“Here it is, Harri! It’s the story of the shooting in The Nugget.” Teesh pushed the volume over in front of Harri, who read the article aloud from it.
September 12, 1915. The Reverend Abel Mather was shot and killed in The Nugget Saloon after a brief altercation with customers. The Reverend is said to have gone temporarily insane and wielded his whip at several bystanders and then threatened The Nugget’s owner, Belle Ezell. Miss Ezell is reported to have pulled a Colt .45 and shot the Reverend dead.
One miner stated, “The preacher done went plum damn crazy and was acting like Satan had holt of him. He was lashing out at ever’body who got ’twixt him and Belle.”
The sheriff declared Miss Ezell innocent of any crime since all witnesses supported her claim to self-defense. No trial will be held. A graveside service will be held at the cemetery due to the burning of the Church of the Good Shepherd, Reverend Mathe
r’s church. One of the pastor’s fold, Hyrum Smith, will officiate. Burial will follow at Bar None Cemetery.
“Well, that’s that. Now we know what Cayce saw in the saloon really happened, and I’d say she’s right about the Reverend being the black fog. What do you think, Teesh?”
“I’d have to agree. I guess that’s why the church was never rebuilt after it mysteriously burned down.” Teesh glanced up at the second floor, where Belle was sometimes seen as an apparition. Then she continued. “Thank you, Belle, for showing us this article. Now, if you can show us how to eliminate that nasty black fog, maybe Bar None and you can have some peace. If you want it, that is.”
Harri glanced up at where Teesh was looking and thought she saw a shadow move down the hallway. She redirected her attention to Teesh.
“I know the church was never rebuilt. It has always looked just as it looks today, but more churches were established when the town was in its boom time. They all shut down when the town started dying. What few Christians remained held meetings in their homes.”
“I wonder why the townspeople let such a man kill their little church. I saw a picture of the log church in an earlier volume, and it was a beautiful little church. Hank says Joshua plans to rebuild it. Do you know the history of the old church, Teesh?”
“Well, I bet we can find it. Let’s go back to some of those early newspapers, about 1880.” Teesh moved volumes aside. Harri helped when she saw Teesh struggling with the heavy volumes.
“Here we go, Harri. It has to be in this volume. See here? This is the wedding picture of Absalom and Yu in 1878. I think she gave birth a couple of years later. It says here, Absalom had the log church built for his and Yu’s wedding. I guess he wanted his new wife to be converted to Christianity. Don’t know what she would have been as a Chinese immigrant. Maybe Buddhist?”
