Marysvale (11 page)

“
Most people don’t—except
the ones who don’t want to be heard. They’re the ones you really
have to worry about.”

“
Do you get many of those?”
I asked curiously.

“
No, but still it’s better
to be prepared. If something happens out here, there really is
nowhere to go for help. Now sit down and take off your shirt,” she
ordered. “This is going to hurt.”

I believed her.

She poured some scented liquid onto one
of the cloths and began to scrub. As predicted, it turned out to be
a very painful process. I gritted my teeth while she scoured, until
all the dried blood and grime were gone and the wound was
clean.

“
Good,” she said, picking up
the needle and threading it. “Well, I suppose it’s time we
introduce ourselves.”

“
Yes, ma’am.”

“
My name is Sarah Stone. You
may call me Sarah, and please stop calling me ma’am—it makes me
feel old. Now, who might you be?”

I started to say,
‘
Yes,
ma’am
,’
but caught myself and simply replied, “John
Casey.”

“
Hello John. It’s a pleasure
to meet you.”

I looked up and our eyes locked. I
decided to read her. However, as soon as I began, the window to her
soul closed and blocked me from finding anything out. I had never
experienced such resistance before in my life. I tried not to look
surprised, though I’m not too sure I succeeded.

She studied me for a moment and then
smiled. “Well, John, this will also hurt a little.”

It did. Only it didn’t hurt a little,
it hurt tremendously. I looked away, not particularly enjoying the
scene, and somehow managed to keep quiet as the needle and thread
slid stingingly through me twelve times.

I inspected the work. It was swollen
and red, but looked better closed than opened; and I felt sure it
would heal much quicker. With a clean, wet rag, she wiped any
leftover blood. Then she took long strips of cloth and bound up the
wound.

“
There, all done,” she
announced. “You’re going to have to take it easy for a while, or
you’ll tear that right open again.”

“
Thank you. I’ll keep that
in mind.”

“
No need to thank me every
time I do something for you; I have a feeling that you’ll owe me a
lot of thanks by the time we’re through. Just save it all until
you’re ready to travel again and you can give me a big one
then.”

I nodded. “All right, I’ll try.” Then,
hesitatingly, I asked, “About the monsters…do you know what they
are? Will they come back?”

She smiled reassuringly.

“
Yes, well, I believe you’re
safe, for the time being. And as for what they are, there’ll be
plenty of time to discuss all of that later. For now, I expect
you’re hungry?”

I thought she’d never ask.

“
Yes, I am.”

“
Well then, we’d better get
you cleaned up first; you look like you could use it. Besides, the
smell of sweat and roast chicken don’t go together very well.
Wouldn’t you agree?”

“
I suppose so.”

Being so hungry, I’m not sure I really
cared; but I wasn’t going to be ungracious, and it would be nice to
be clean.

She plucked a pot of hot water from the
stove and said, “Follow me.”

We went out onto the back porch and
into a little room attached to the cabin. Inside the wooden room
was a shelf that held some folded clothes, a bar of soap, and a
pail of water. Suspended from the ceiling was a large, wooden
bucket, with a lever attached to it.

I looked at it doubtfully. “What is
it?”

She laughed. “It’s not going to hurt
you.”

I wasn’t so sure.

“
It’s what’s going to clean
you up.”

Suspiciously, I asked, “How does it
work?”

“
When you’re ready for
water, just pour the buckets of cold and hot water into the top and
pull the handle; water will come out the bottom. When you push the
lever up, the water will stop…well, at least most of it will.
You’ll have to be quick, though; it doesn’t last very long. When
you’re done, just come back to the kitchen. I’ll be getting supper
ready.” She turned to leave. “Oh, I almost forgot…you can dress in
the clothes on the shelf there; they look like they should be about
the right size. And don’t get your bandages wet.”

With that, she left me to contemplate
the contraption. I undressed, poured in the water, and hoped the
bucket wouldn’t fall on my head. Actually, it worked quite well.
The warm water felt good. I cleaned up and got dressed. The clothes
weren’t a perfect fit, but were soft and comfortable.

When I returned, the table had been
decorated with bread, chicken, and potatoes—all of which made my
mouth water. We said grace and, with great control, I managed to be
somewhat respectable and not eat all my supper in one bite (though
they were fairly large bites).

Once I had a little food in me, Sarah
inquired, “Tell me, John, where are you from?”

I finished swallowing, and then
answered, “Syre.”

“
Mmm, been a long time since
I’ve been there….Then again, it’s been a long time since I’ve been
anywhere,” she added regretfully. “Do you have any
family?”

“
No, it’s just me and Smoke.
He’s about as close to family as I’ve got.”

“
And what brings you so far
from Syre?”

I knew the question would be
inevitable; but saying,
Well, I was about to be tried as a
warlock, so I killed the local magistrate and was chased out of
town,
didn’t seem very wise. So, I settled on a partial
explanation of the truth.

“
I was on my way to join a
hunting party, and I got lost.”

She seemed to be considering this.
Taking advantage of her hesitation, I stuffed another potato into
my mouth.

“
I see,” she said
thoughtfully.

Trying to change the subject, I asked,
“Where am I?”

She smiled. “You’re lost.” Then added,
“Well, almost. You’re about a four-day ride northwest of Syre—maybe
three if you push it, like it appears you have; and a little over
two day’s ride south of Marysvale.”

“
Marysvale,” I said
reflectively. “I’ve heard about a lot of places, but I’ve never
heard of that one.”

“
No, I don’t suppose you
have. Not many people know where it is.”

“
Because of the monsters?” I
asked.

She put her fork down. “They tend to
make a pretty effective barrier, sealing us away from the outside
world. Eventually, the word gets around that if you come up here,
you don’t go back.”

“
Yes, I would imagine
so.”

I felt my shoulder, noticing that it
had settled into an uncomfortable, throbbing sensation—until I
tried to move it—then needles of pain would shoot through my
arm.

“
Over time, the rest of the
world forgot about us.”

Lost in thought, she stared out the
window into a sea of white, twinkling stars.

Satisfied, I too put down my fork and
watched the flickering yellow light emitted from the lamps, as it
danced off the walls and cast shadows this way and that.

Not entirely sure I wanted to disrupt
her contemplations, I asked hesitantly, “What are they?”

She looked back at me and softly asked,
“Do you believe in God?”

What a strange question. Is she
trying to change the subject?
Even so, I answered,
“Yes.”

“
And do you believe in the
Bible?”

I took a moment before answering. They
read the Bible at the different churches I’d attended, but I hadn’t
really paid attention. Church was a necessity because, if I didn’t
go, I’d be seen as a heretic. Funny how in the end, attending
church didn’t seem to help me in that regards too much. I also
remembered my father reading me stories from it when I was young,
before he died. Whenever I tried to read from the Bible now, it
made me think of him and how much I missed him, so I didn’t study
it like I should.

“
I think so,” was the best I
could come up with.

I hoped she wouldn’t judge me too
harshly for my incredible lack of conviction. She didn’t seem
bothered.

“
I want you to read
something.”

Sarah got up from the table, took a
lamp, and disappeared. A moment later, she returned holding a large
family Bible.

“
Do you remember the story
of Cain and Abel?”

“
Some.”

“
What do you
remember?”

“
I know Cain slew
Abel.”

“
Do you remember what
happened to Cain?”

“
I think he was punished
somehow.”

She opened the Bible.

“
Here, read these three
verses,” she said, pointing to them.

“And the Lord said unto
Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my
brother’s Keeper?

“And he said, What hast
thou done? The voice of thy brother’s blood crieth unto me from the
ground.

“And now art thou cursed
from the earth, which hath opened her mouth to receive thy
brother’s blood from thy hand:

“When thou tillest the
ground, it shall not henceforth yield unto thee her strength; a
fugitive and a vagabond shalt thou be in the
earth.”

“
So what does that mean?” I
questioned. “It’s not really clear to me. Did God curse Cain, or
was it the earth, or was it Abel’s blood crying from the ground
that cursed him?”

“
Strange, I’ve wondered the
same thing,” she mused.

“
And what does this have to
do with the monsters?”

She hesitated a moment before
proceeding. “There are a lot of people in Marysvale who believe
that what you saw was the curse of Cain—maybe not Cain himself, but
perhaps his offspring.”

“
And do you believe that?” I
asked.

“
Well, at first it was as
good an explanation as any; but the more I think about it, the less
I believe it.”

“
Then what do you
believe?”

“
Truthfully, I have no idea
what they are; but I do know that they weren’t always like this.
Their violence is more of a new development, and I believe that
some evil was used to change them into the creatures they are now.
The first ones I saw showed up about twenty years ago, and they
were a very different animal then.”

I was surprised. “You’ve lived with
them for that long?”

She nodded.

“
And you’ve never been
attacked before?”

“
Not exactly…”

Before I could ask more about it, she
quickly added, “There’s something else you should know about
them.”

“
The monsters?”

“
No. The
townspeople.”

“
Why should I care what the
people in Marysvale believe?” I asked.

“
It will be helpful to know,
so you can understand them.”

Understanding them usually wasn’t the
problem in my mind; it was the other way around that was more
troublesome.

“
I’m not planning on going
there,” I said. The last thing I wanted was another town full of
superstitious people.

She looked at me with a strange,
mischievous expression on her face.

“
Maybe not now, but I expect
before too long you’ll want to.”

There was something she wasn’t telling
me. I tried reading her thoughts again, but got nowhere. It was
frustrating. I could tell they were there, but blocked. It was like
seeing light behind a curtain, but unable to open it. Supposing I’d
have to do it the hard way, I decided on the direct
route.

“
What aren’t you telling
me?”

She didn’t look surprised by my candor
and simply replied, “A lot.”

I sighed. “For the sake of argument
then, why will I want to go to Marysvale instead of going
home?”

“
It’s best you find out on
your own.”

She seemed to be enjoying this little
exchange.

I asked bluntly, “Do you always answer
your guests with riddles?”

“
No, only the ones I
like.”

I blushed.

She laughed.

“
I think you’ve had enough
excitement for one day; we can continue our conversation in the
morning.”

“
You’ve gone to all that
trouble of telling me I should know more—and now you’re sending me
to bed?”

“
There will be plenty of
time tomorrow to continue our conversation, when you’re rested and
not so irritable. And don’t worry about the creatures; you’ll be
safe tonight. The dog will alert us if anything comes.”

I looked at it sprawled on its side,
asleep, and doubted that it would be much of a warning.