A Lie for a Lie (3 page)

The roar of a lion lifted me off my feet and deposited me a few inches farther from Lucy.

“Horses were only part of the show,” she continued, as if she was already used to the presence of man-eating beasts so close to our fair town. “Nelson-Zimboni is generations old, but it was never large like Ringling Brothers or Clyde Beatty. Instead they were known for quality, and they had a huge following in small towns like this one. The equestrian act was one of the biggest draws. Gorgeous horses, gorgeous women, death-defying feats. From what I’ve had time to unearth, Nora’s whole family starred in it. She doesn’t talk about that now, though. That’s all in the past.”

“The horses don’t seem to be.” I pointed to the trailers. “And neither do the lions.”

“The Nelson wing of the circus created and maintained the animal acts. I guess they started at a time when zoos were just for city folk, and circuses filled the gap everywhere else. Little Beau and Baby Bubba only got to see tigers and lions under the big top.”

“I’ll be interested to see how Sister Nora uses them in her evangelism. Anybody who doesn’t agree with her preaching gets a trip into their cage of choice?”

We moved out of the route of a tractor trailer and started up toward the house that sat in a grove of listless, dehydrating maples.

“I don’t know how Emerald Springs is going to take to all this,” Lucy said. “The animals, the revival meetings.”

Not to mention a lot of talk about heaven and hell. We’d been used to talking about hell when I lived in Northern Virginia. That close to the White House, everybody was sure that whoever happened to be residing there was courting the devil, so it came naturally. But here?

“People in Emerald Springs want to think about the Cleveland Indians or the Cincinnati Bengals,” I said. “They want to discuss whether little Jennifer is going to make it to the finals of the Emerald Springs Idyll, not whether she’s going to make it to heaven. Which reminds me, I’ve got to be back by four.”

“Tell me again why you got corralled on that committee?”

The fund-raising committee Lucy referred to, the reason I had to be back in town, had been foisted on me by several powerful members of our church. Our task was to make sure that the Idyll, an overinflated talent show, ran smoothly and raised as much money as possible. It was exactly the kind of committee I hated most.

I listed reasons that didn’t make me sound like a wimp. “It’s important. You and I are between flips, and I need something to do this summer besides drive Teddy to swimming lessons and Deena to the stables.”

“And because Sally Berrigan twisted your arm.”

“That was only part of it.” The other parts were Dolly Purcell and Esther, our organist. All three were members of our church.

“Is this in some minister’s wife handbook? Caving in to people who can make your husband’s life miserable?”

“Chapter one, second page, third paragraph. But really?” I slowed, because although I’m in relatively good shape after forced marches and chin-ups last week, I was feeling winded from the heat. “It is a good cause, Luce. A new pediatric wing for Emerald Springs Hospital feels pretty personal. Suites where parents can stay comfortably with sick children, a four-bed pediatric intensive care unit, a play area. How could I say no? If I can do anything to make it happen, I need to.”

Lucy didn’t even try to argue. In fact her real estate agency had pledged a whopping sum to the new pediatric unit, and I was pretty sure a fair piece of it would come right out of Lucy’s pocket.

“I see Sister Nora.” Lucy nodded to the porch of the old farmhouse just yards away now.

The sunshine was a bright smear, and without conspicuously shading my eyes, I couldn’t view anything clearly. I made out at least three figures to one side of the house, under the deep shade of a sagging roof, but not much more. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Do we genuflect? I’m about as familiar with how to do that as you are. Which knee do we go down on?”

“You’re going to like her.” Lucy broke into a smile and started up the steps.

I was halfway up before the glare lessened and I could see a small cluster of people on a porch that was badly in need of paint. A middle-aged woman broke away from the others, who continued to converse in hushed tones, and started toward us. She was reed slender, almost emaciated, and her skin was the seasoned tan of my leather sandals. Both attributes made her enormous, pale blue eyes nearly pop out of her head. She wore a blue work shirt that hung limply on her thin frame, and jeans that were probably a “minus two.” She was average height, and if she hadn’t been so gaunt, she would have been pretty. The blonde hair piled on top of her head and twisted in place with a barrette was probably a few shades lighter than the good Lord had intended, and threads of silver were making it more so. All in all, though, she was striking, a woman who would be hard to forget.

I guess that’s a good thing in Nora’s line of work.

“Lucy.” Sister Nora extended her hand and grasped Lucy’s. Her smile was warm and genuine, not one bit fake television preacher.

Lucy returned the smile. “I brought you a packet of information. And I wanted to see if you needed anything while you’re moving in.”

How Lucy could say that with a straight face intrigued me. Sister Nora needed a lot of things. Barbed wire around the perimeter, for starters.

Lucy turned to me as Sister Nora did and made the introduction. Sister Nora grasped my hand and squeezed. For a drinking straw of a woman, she had a grip like the governor of Kah-li-foan-ia.

“Quite the commotion, yes? I’m sure your little town is wondering what we’re all about.” Sister Nora spoke with absolutely no accent. But that made sense for somebody born into a traveling circus. Growing up on the craft show circuit did the same for me.

“We don’t get a lot of excitement here,” I admitted. “This is about a year’s worth, all at once.”

“I hope you’ll assure your friends and neighbors we mean no harm.”

“Aggie’s husband is the minister of a church on the Emerald Springs Oval,” Lucy said. “You’ll probably want to get to know him.”

Sister Nora nodded, as if she was taking that to heart. “Everyone will be welcome here, sinners and saints alike.”

I wondered where Ed would put himself on that continuum. The Consolidated Community Church is a liberal church. Of course we’re fond of saints while not so fond of sin, but we’re also prone to thinking there’s a middle awash in multiple shades of gray.

“I’ll be sure to tell Ed,” I promised. Ed was going to find that conversation fascinating. In my future I could look forward to scintillating lectures on the role of the traveling evangelist in nineteenth-century America.

“We’re looking forward to meeting everybody in the community.” Nora’s irises were like star sapphires, a deep blue with the oddest twinkle of light beaming straight from the pupil. “We have a message for the people of Emerald Springs.”

I knew better than to ask what it was. I
knew
better. But here I was, my curiosity mixing with perspiration and oozing out every pore. I glanced at Lucy, who didn’t seem to know what Nora had meant by a message, either. Apparently the “message” had gotten lost in negotiations for the farm. Offers and counteroffers and roof inspectors will do that.

“Is this a message you’d like me to pass on?” I asked at last, knowing I shouldn’t, but incapable of stopping myself.

“It is,” Sister Nora said, with a nod. She still looked pleasant. She still looked completely comfortable with our conversation. Neither prepared me.

“The world is coming to an end very soon,” she said in her husky, everyday voice, as if she were talking about a favorite series she was watching on television. “We are destroying the environment and the result will be a catastrophe. I’ve negotiated with God because I firmly believe the world’s a better place than He does. So he’s giving us one more chance. And the people of Emerald Springs have been chosen to provide Him with proof. We’re here to teach you what you have to know to protect and save God’s handiwork. And if all else fails, we will preserve whatever we can.”

I had no idea how to answer that. Beside me I could sense Lucy shifting her weight uneasily. All I could do was clear my throat and release the first thought that came to mind.

“It’s going to take elephants?” I asked.

Sister Nora smiled gently. “It’s going to take all of us.”

“Elephants? That was the best you could do? You thought elephants were the crux of the matter?”

I turned up every vent near my seat so the Concorde’s air-conditioning was hitting me directly in the face. Getting back to Lucy’s car had taken longer than we’d expected. We’d had to avoid a string of poodles prancing on their hind legs, two cages of black bears, and three children riding the most beautiful white horses I’d ever seen. Bareback.

“I don’t remember
you
saying much of anything,” I answered, once the air-conditioners were at full tilt. “Did you really think discussing whether to have the closing at your office or the title company was more relevant than how she’s going to save the world?”

Lucy slowed for a group of girls just a little older than my thirteen-year-old Deena. In bright shorts and capris the girls were like roses blooming in the midst of the desert, lush and sweet and a welcome contrast to the dust-coated foliage lining Horseshoe Bend Road. If Sister Nora was right, they might not live long enough to drop even a single petal.

She was silent until most of the onlookers were well behind us, then she sounded faintly chagrined. “I honestly didn’t know they were
that
kind of religion.”

“Sister Nora never said anything to you about the end of the world?”

“Well, no. She seemed like your typical circus evangelist to me, Aggie. I see so many of them!”

I tried to imagine how this entire scenario was going to go over in our conservative little town. Which part of the following would be most discussed? The lions, elephants, and tigers—and yes, there were tigers, as we’d discovered on our way out. The presence of maybe a hundred new citizens, many of whom looked as if Sister Nora had converted them as they exited county jails and state prisons? The tent revivals? The impending end of life as we knew it?

“At least she isn’t preaching hellfire and brimstone. She’s all about global warming.” I paused. “Or maybe it’s the same thing, just her interpretation. Satan spewing coal dust into the air. Satan producing gas-guzzlers faster and faster until the glaciers disappear. I wonder if she knows the exact time line?”

“You should have asked her. I’m sure she would have been only too happy to tell you.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” I glanced at Lucy. “There’s just the slightest chance, Luce, that your popularity index is going to take a dive in the next weeks. No matter how important the message, Sister Nora’s delivery system’s going to be controversial. You’ll be the realtor who sold the Weilly farm to the biggest kooks in Emerald Springs history.”

She sounded faintly glum. “Nobody expects less of me. Not after being seen so often with you.”

I suppose that was true. I had garnered a certain reputation in town, which had probably rubbed off on my friend. In a way, it was surprising that the ladies in charge of the Emerald Springs Idyll had agreed to have me on their exalted committee. I could just imagine the arguments that had ensued. I needed at least one more year of quiet good works, no murders, and a leash on my tongue in order to restore confidence in my ability to be just one of the other moms in town.

“So what are you going to tell people?” I asked. “About Sister Nora and SNITS.”

“It would be helpful if you didn’t abbreviate, okay? Maybe nobody else will figure that out.”

“It could be worse. She could have called it Nora’s Uplifting Tent Show. NUTS.”

“Your brain works in mysterious ways.”

“Nora’s Universal Tent Salvation.”

“You can stop anytime.”

“What are you going to tell people about her?”

Lucy turned on the main road that would take us straight into town. In a way it was frightening how fast we had gotten here, considering that in deference to the people sight-seeing on Horseshoe Bend Road, we had been traveling about as fast as a well-fed lion in summer.

“As little as possible,” Lucy said. “Even less.”

“The news will travel fast. I don’t think Sister Nora intends to keep this revelation to herself.”

“I kind of think I’ll be the least of it, don’t you?”

We could only hope.

One thing about Lucy—she can locate any piece of property in the county with only a clue or two. Homeowner. Landscaping details. Architectural style. I had no chance of delaying my arrival at the Idyll meeting any longer. The moment I’d told Lucy it was at the home of Veronica and Farley Hayworth, I’d sealed my doom. Farley Hayworth owned one of the two most successful realties in town, and Lucy was an agent for the other. So not only did she know exactly where to find the Hayworths’ house, she knew how much they paid for it eight years ago when they’d felt the need for seven bedrooms as opposed to the four the childless couple had formerly shared.

Now as we traveled in silence I envisioned white-aproned maids readying a different bedroom each night. The Monday bedroom. The Tuesday bedroom. Or maybe Veronica and Farley started at opposite ends of the house and moved inexorably toward the middle bedroom for a one-night rendezvous each week. Never having been rich, I’m not sure how it’s done. Ed and I share a bed every night, but he tells me I won’t share the blankets.

We crossed the magic line into Emerald Estates, our little town’s answer to Grosse Pointe and Beverly Hills. From what I can tell, the primary criterion for building a house in Emerald Estates is the use of as many types of building materials as possible. Stucco and brick are considered just okay. Stucco, brick, wood siding, and stone slabs? Ooh la la. Size is a consideration, too. Too large to find one’s way from the family room to the master bedroom without a map? The ultimate.