Summer's Passing (16 page)

The clouds had darkened the room. "I'll get the lights," I said and hit the switch by the door. Nothing.

"The power must be off," I said.

"Either the storm or the landlord," Beckie replied. "Wait." She went to a cabinet next to the window and opened the top drawer. "In case of emergencies," she said, holding a candle in her hand. "And let's see." She dug around in the drawer. "Here we go," she said, wielding a pack of matches.

She struck a match and lit the candle. The area around us brightened. "Now let's get my stuff and get out of here."

We put her eight assorted animals, scattered about her bedroom, in two pillowcases, and we were about to leave when she spotted something on the nightstand.

"What's this?" Beckie asked as she moved the candle down.

She picked up an envelope. I saw her name printed on the cover. She looked at me. In the flickering candlelight, I saw fear in her eyes.

I snatched the envelope from her and ripped it open. The piece of paper inside contained three typewritten words.

I FOUND YOU

"We need to leave here now," I said and took her arm. I saw the cross on Beckie's neck brighten. Its light pulsing brighter by the second.

Beckie stood still, in a daze. 

"Now!" I yelled and pushed her out of the bedroom. In front of us, a figure sat in the shadows. He leaned back in a chair against the front door.

"What's your rush? You just got here and you already want to leave without even a hello? How rude."

I could barely make out his appearance in the shadows, but Beckie knew immediately who it was.

"Father," she said.

"Did you think I would ever leave you behind?" He brought the chair to an upright position. "I don't think you need the candle now, my dear. Your cross, which has the annoying tendency of lighting up like a torch whenever I'm around, is providing adequate light. Please blow the candle out."

I saw he had a gun in his lap, a hand wrapped around it.

Beckie tried to blow out the candle but she lacked the breath. I steadied her hand in mine and blew it out.

"That's better. Please take a seat. We need to talk for a short while." 

I could see him smile in the light of the cross and I felt evil traverse the room in a wave. I helped Beckie into a kitchen chair. I sat next to her, holding her hand.

"Dad, please," Beckie said, and I heard fear in her voice.

"Father. I'd like you to call me father." He stood then and dragged his chair closer to us: the gun in his hand at his side.

"Don't," Beckie said softly.

"You'll need to talk louder if you expect me to hear you above this wind," he said as he sat in front of us.

He fit Jill's description to a tee. Both his gray hair and beard were long and scraggly. His eyes were a bloodshot red and his clothes were ripped and dirty. Worn army boots covered his feet, and he had the smell of someone who hadn't bathed in a long time. 

The wind gusted and the house shook."Well, it looks like none of us will be going anywhere for a while; so, Beckie, it appears you've made quite the life for yourself here in Port Grace," he said, still smiling.

"How did you find me? Was it the accident?"

"The accident? Oh no, my dear. I found you long before then. In fact, I witnessed your little mishap from a distance."

"You were behind me," Beckie said with an air of resignation.

"I was. In fact, I've been behind you quite a bit recently."

"It was you that night in the house," I said.

"The house, the beach, the town. I travel a lot and, before you ask, I wanted to tease you first, put questions in your head. I wanted to have some fun with you. I could have taken you at any time. I was near you many times, close enough to reach out and touch you." He laughed. It came out as a harsh rasp. "I was hoping you'd return here. I knew you left some things behind. And so I waited and watched. I even cleaned the place up for you." 

Lightening split the sky and a thunderous boom shook the house. "How appropriate," he said glancing at the window. "A perfect night for a resolution to matters of the heart."

"Why? Why?" Beckie put her hands to her face and began to sob. I put my arm around her.

"Now isn't that cute. You're lucky I'm not the jealous type." He waved the gun in front of him. "Oh wait, I am the jealous type."

He pointed the gun at me. "Remove your arm please, or I'll be forced to do it for you."

I kept my arm around her.

"Do it, Doug. He means it," Beckie said as she brought her hands back to the kitchen table in front of us.

I took my arm from her back and again held her hand.

Beckie's father shook his head. "The hand too," he said.

"What do you want from us? Why won't you just leave me alone?" Beckie stared at him.

"To answer your first question, it's just you that I want. Your boyfriend means nothing to me. As for your other question, I think you know why. We have unfinished business, the two of us. You left me much too soon. We were just beginning to know each other."

"When did you become so evil?" Beckie spat out the words. "Was it when mother died? You were a good man once. Do you remember when you were good?"

"I remember you, and nothing else," he said and turned to me. The wind howled loudly and the house shook again.

"And now I'm afraid you and I must say our goodbyes." He steadied the gun on the table in front of us. The barrel pointed at my chest. "Give him a farewell kiss, my dear. I'll allow it this one time. Do hurry. I believe we will need to leave here soon."

I felt the house sway just then and the window over the kitchen sink blew apart.

Morgan could not see the horses in the driving rain. He resigned himself to take a closer look. He slipped on his trousers and his boots and braced himself for the rain.

The warmth of the cross stirred her awake. Rachel opened her eyes to a brightness she'd never seen before. Her cross lit up the room. Next to her, the bed remained empty. "Morgan," she said to herself.

The wind pushed the rain sideways into Morgan as he fought against it. He squinted as he walked. He could not see the horses in the pounding rain. They were not by the tree where he had bound them.

He walked closer to the tree and was almost there when a strong hand covered his mouth. Another hand moved from behind him and went to his neck. Morgan felt the sharp blade of a knife pierce his skin.

"Be silent if you want to live," a voice said from behind him. "Now turn slowly, we are walking back to the house. I know your reputation Morgan, but I have a reputation also. I reek of danger. If you have yet to sense it, you will before this night ends."

"Who are you?" Morgan asked, and the knife's blade sank deeper into his flesh. 

"I'll let my knife answer for me. Anything more?"

Morgan stayed silent. "I thought not. Now we will move to the house, slowly. I want the one inside to see this."

The rain stopped suddenly. Now only a strong night wind swirled around them.

"Ah, perfect," the man said.

Then the sun rose, not from the sky, from the doorway of the cottage. Rachel stood there, the cross at her neck cast a bright silver beam across the field and pushed the night deep into the forest. She held a bow in her outstretched arms, taut with an arrow.

"You'll unhand him now," she said with conviction.

"And if I don't?" a voice from behind Morgan said. 

"I'll be forced to harm you," Rachel replied.

The man laughed. "We are halfway into the woods. The wind blows around us, and I remain hidden behind the man you're likely to puncture should you fire away."

The voice, she recognized it from long ago.

"How did you find me?" She said.

"Put down the bow daughter and I'll tell you all you need to know," the man said.

"You're her father?" Morgan said, as the blade cut deeper into his neck.

"I said no more questions."

"Put down the knife." Rachel pulled back on the bow. Her arms began to ache and her hand on the bowstring trembled.

"My dear, it appears your bow is getting the best of you. Lower it and I won't hurt your lover. We have much to talk about, you and I. I've waited for a long time; too long, as a matter of fact. It's time I took you home."

"I won't go home with you. I won't go anywhere with you."

"Do it! Do it now!" Morgan moved his head enough where she could see her father's eyes. They flashed anger as she let her arrow fly.

Glass shot into the room, missing Beckie and myself but hitting Beckie's father. The shards became shrapnel in the powerful wind, easily piercing the skin of his face and neck, and into his arm and hand. His chair flipped sideways and he flew onto the wood floor, howling louder than the wind blowing around us.

The house did more than sway and rattle just then. It buckled. The floor beneath us groaned and, with a splintering sound, it collapsed into a V shape straight down the center of the house.

Beckie and I flew to the floor. She landed on me and for a moment the breath was knocked out of me. Her father clawed the ground not five feet in front of me. His gun lay between us but for now, he pulled glass from his bloody face, screaming like a banshee as he did so.

No time to catch my breath. I reached for the gun. There was a sharp crack that sounded like a shotgun blast and the house shifted once more. This time the floor separated down the middle, opening a gap where I could see the angry gulf water churning beneath us. The gun slid into the opening and fell into the churning waters below.

I felt Beckie's weight leave me. "Look up!" She yelled a second later.

She had made it over the edge of the V, where the house only tilted slightly.

She faced me on her stomach, her hand reached out. "Grab my hand! Now!" 

I had enough breath to sit up. There was another explosion and the gap below me widened. I could feel the cold spray of the angry surf against my legs.

I reached forward and caught her hand. She pulled me up until I stood, straddling the gap. 

"Hold on, I'm standing up," she yelled over the wind. 

I felt her lift me with her and had one leg over the ledge when a hand gripped my other leg.

"If I can't have her, I'll take you instead," Her father said.

"No you won't!" Beckie yelled from above me.

With her free hand, she yanked the cross from her neck and clenched it in her fist. She drew her hand back and the cross flew through the air. Only now it was no longer a cross, it had become a ball of fire, with a tail of flame in its wake. It exploded across her father's face and engulfed his body in flame.

I heard him scream and felt his hand release me and I clambered over the edge.

I turned to see Beckie's father engulfed in flame. The fire had spread to the wood floor around him. Flames shot up toward us. Another explosion shook the room and the gap widened enough to drop his writhing body into the turbulence below. 

She held my hand tightly as we sprinted for the now open door. Yet another mighty explosion rocked us as we ran through the door. I felt heat against my back but I didn't turn. We ran together down the wood planks, stumbling back and forth, as the pier twisted in the wind.

Beckie dove into the sand at the pier's end. I landed next to her. The rain had stopped but the wind still blew strong around us. I look at her and she looked at me. I nodded and she nodded back. Together we turned to face the pier.

Flames engulfed the house. Burning embers soared high above it, specks of red spinning in the night wind.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"Yes, I'm okay. You?"

"I'm okay too."

"We should go, before the fire department gets here," Beckie said.

"Or Bruno," I added. 

"Oh yeah, Bruno." She smiled briefly as she said it. That's my Rebecca, quick to heal.

I wrapped my arm around her. “I'm sorry about your father," I said.

"I'm not. He hasn't been my father for years."

We were almost to the car and I had to ask. "The cross. What happened there?"