The Eternal Ones (11 page)

“Take your hands off me! I’m with the
New York Daily Mirror
!”

 

THE ENTIRE SCHOOL seemed to be watching the spot where Haven woke. As Principal Cogdill helped her to her feet and guided her down the hall, the school erupted with chatter that only got louder as the two disappeared into the principal’s office. Even his secretary stopped typing and watched them walk past as if the principal were leading a herd of elephants. Haven knew the woman would be on the phone the second the door was closed.

“I think it’s best if you finish the school year from home,” the principal informed Haven without giving her time to sit down.

Haven nodded, but the man continued as though she had chosen to argue. “We can’t have this kind of distraction every day. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I can guarantee your safety anymore. You do understand, don’t you, Haven?”

He didn’t bother to disguise the fact that he would be pleased to see her go.

 

 

Haven stopped and imagined the response her e-mail would receive. Even she found her own story hard to believe. She saved the document and closed her computer. There was no use troubling the Ouroboros Society with what most people would see as the heartsick ravings of a seventeen-year-old girl.

Haven’s business had gone belly-up. Fourteen prom dresses had been returned—though most were in better condition than Morgan Murphy’s. Fitting appointments were canceled one by one, and Haven and Beau found themselves saddled with fifteen hundred dollars’ worth of silk, satin, and sequins. They saved one pretty pale-blue chiffon dress as a thank-you gift for Leah Frizzell, and the rest they packed away in the Decker attic. The profits that Beau and Haven had been counting on disappeared overnight. The thought that she was responsible for losing Beau’s tuition money made Haven feel sick to her stomach.

With Imogene Snively monitoring her every move, Haven stayed home. And she had no desire to leave. She couldn’t face the hatred and anger that had been simmering in the souls of people she’d known her entire life. Even Dr. Tidmore had turned against her. Haven’s teachers sent homework assignments, which she dutifully finished. Exams were completed under her grandmother’s eye while Mae Moore puttered around the house, trying to act as if her daughter had been afflicted with nothing more than a bad cold.

Prom night passed with a never-ending round of honks and
yeeha
s from the town below. Then the students of Blue Mountain began preparing for graduation while Haven watched summer arrive from her bedroom window. The mountains shed their delicate blooms and transformed into impenetrable jungles. Kudzu vines swallowed a telephone pole at the edge of town. Thunderstorms blitzed the valley most evenings, sending the gas station kids scuttling for shelter.

Haven tried her best to push the past aside. Whatever Constance’s mystery was, it could wait until she was out from under her grandmother’s thumb. Solving it wasn’t worth spending ten months in a mental institution. But this time the past couldn’t be forgotten. Every night when Haven fell asleep, Ethan came to her. It was as if he refused to let her go. Haven dreamed of his nights with Constance in the little white cottage on the cobblestone lane, and it was like some missing part of herself had been restored. She woke each morning with the feeling of his hands on her body. The smell of his skin lingered, and she burned with desire until the dreams finally faded.

Terrified that another vision might arrive in front of her grandmother, Haven spent her days in bed with the boy who was haunting her. She began waking only to eat, and her mother started to fret. So when Beau finally arrived to lure Haven out of the house, Mae was happy to lead him straight up the stairs to her daughter’s bedroom.

“What are
you
doing here?” Haven asked sleepily as her mother stepped aside to let Beau in. “Skipping school?”

“Let’s go. We’re taking a little field trip,” Beau announced. “I’ve got my dad’s truck, and your grandmother’s spending the day at the beauty parlor.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Haven pulled the sheet up over her head. “I’m still half naked, and I have a paper to finish for Miss Henderson.”

“Your paper can wait,” Beau insisted. “You gotta get a little exercise, or you’re going to turn into a big blob of saggy flesh.”

“Gee, thanks.” Haven knew she’d gained a little weight. Her mother baked as though home-cooked meals might be the answer to all her daughter’s problems.

“And make sure you bring your bathing suit.”

She pulled the sheet down to her neck and scowled at the boy. “After you just called me ‘a blob of saggy flesh’ ?”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” Beau waited with his arms crossed for Haven to move and stomped one foot when she didn’t. “Go on, get cracking! We’re going up to Eden Falls. It’s noon on a Tuesday. We aren’t going to run into anybody you know. Besides, everybody in Snope City’s forgotten you exist.”

“No they haven’t. They give me the evil eye every Sunday. In
church
. It’s like they expect the altar to melt or a million locusts to fly out of my butt.”

“You’re exaggerating. Quit feeling so sorry for yourself.”

“Why
shouldn’t
I feel sorry for myself?” Haven moaned, fighting to keep the tears from her eyes. “I think I have some pretty good reasons.”

Mae, who’d been waiting in the hall, took the opportunity to jump in. “Haven Moore! You stop giving this young man a hard time and get your bathing suit on. I’m tired of watching you mope around the house all day.”

“I’m not leaving this room without you,” Beau announced, dropping down on the side of her bed.

Haven knew there was no way she could win. “All right.” She groaned. “Give me a second.”

Mae marched off in victory while Beau grinned like a dim-witted kid at a carnival. “Meet you outside,” he said.

 

THE DECKERS’ OLD TRUCK struggled to climb the mountain roads, sputtering and backfiring at every hairpin turn. The air was cooler and sweet with the scent of honeysuckle. As soon as they had left Snope City behind, Haven had felt her tension ease. She closed her eyes and let the wind tousle her hair, twisting it into knots she knew she’d suffer for later.

Twenty miles out of town, the road narrowed and turned to dirt. Only a few ramshackle houses peeked out of the woods. They looked forlorn and neglected, but the mountain people who lived there didn’t care about appearances. In the past, Haven had spotted a few of the men walking along the road’s shoulder, dressed plainly in overalls or work clothes. They’d nod, but it was clear they didn’t much fancy outsiders.

Near the top of the mountain, a church appeared on the side of the road—a simple wooden structure with pristine white walls and a short, squat steeple. Beau pulled the truck into the tiny gravel parking lot and turned off the engine. Had there been another car in the lot, they wouldn’t have stopped. Though the building bore no sign, everyone in Snope City knew it belonged to the snake handlers. None of the Pentecostal kids who attended Blue Mountain had ever struck Haven as particularly frightening. But the thought of coming upon a group of Leah Frizzell’s uncles and brothers waving deadly snakes and speaking in tongues was enough to convince her to maintain a respectful distance.

Haven and Beau had been ten years old when Beau’s dad first showed them the way to Eden Falls, and they’d returned there countless times once they were old enough to drive. Yet it took the two of them a frustrating five minutes to locate the start of the steep path that led from the church parking lot and wound down the mountain toward the falls. At the end of the trail, they followed a wild, rocky stream until they reached an opening in the forest. In the center was a massive granite pool that had been carved out of the hills. Even with the bright sunlight sparkling on its surface, the water looked dark, and no one they knew had ever touched bottom.

Haven whipped off her sundress and dove into the pool. Her body shivered violently as she swam toward a shallow shelf at the far end. There, the water emptied out, plunging a hundred feet before reassembling itself in the form of a stream at the bottom of the waterfall. Haven stood on the mossy ledge, the water flowing around her toes, and peered down at the mist rising up from below.

“Damn!” She barely heard Beau over the roar of the water. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where you going?” she called.

“Forgot the cooler in the back of the truck!”

“Stay here, I’m not even hungry,” she shouted, but he’d already disappeared up the path.

 

HAVEN SPREAD OUT a towel and lay down in the dappled sunshine with her eyes closed. A pleasant heat rose from the rock beneath her, and she felt drops of water slide across her skin in the breeze. It was the first time in weeks that she’d been really alone, and somehow she felt cleaner, as if an invisible film of pollution had been washed away. She was drifting toward sleep when she heard the sound of leaves rustling. She sat up, expecting to spot a black bear or one of the feral hogs that roamed the mountains. Then an old man and his dog appeared at the edge of the woods. Haven grabbed the towel beneath her and wrapped it around her body as he stood silently and watched. The man’s white hair was slicked back and shiny. He carried a large wooden box in one hand. Even in the summer heat, he wore a flannel shirt and well-worn work pants held up by suspenders. To Haven, the outfit looked oddly formal, and it reminded her where she had seen him before. He and a younger man delivered firewood to Imogene’s house every winter. Haven doubted she could overpower him if she needed to.

“Who are you?” the man demanded as if he’d caught her trespassing in his own backyard.

“My name’s Haven Moore.”

The man nodded. His pale eyes were a milky blue, clouded by cataracts. “What’s a young girl like you doing up here by yourself? You know these woods are full of rattlers and copperheads, doncha?” He gave the wooden box a shake, and Haven heard the reply of several angry snakes.

“I’m not alone,” Haven told him, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “My friend Beau just went up to his truck to get our lunch. He’ll be right back.”

“Who’re you talking to, Earl?” Leah Frizzell stepped out of woods, wearing a faded blue smock that might once have been a pillowcase and a pair of black work boots. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her ears stuck out from her long, thin face.

“This that girl you told me about?” Earl asked, pointing at Haven with a gnarled finger. “The one who gave you that dress?”

Leah’s face showed no sign of surprise. “Hey!” she called out to Haven as if they were old friends. “I was hoping I’d see you here. Haven Moore, this is my uncle, Earl Frizzell.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Haven told the old man. “How did you know I’d be here, Leah?”

“Sometimes I just know things,” the girl responded matter-of-factly.

“Leah?” Haven asked nervously. “Have you been following me?”

“Not following—
observing
,” Leah corrected. “And I ain’t the only one.”

“Them people down there think you got a demon, that right?” Earl butted in as he rested his load on a boulder by the pool.

For a moment, Haven was too shocked to speak. She looked to Leah, who seemed amused by her uncle’s boldness. “I wouldn’t know, sir,” Haven finally said.

“Leah says you see things.”

Haven squirmed. The man was strangely insistent. “It’s not something I like to talk about, if you don’t mind, Mr. Frizzell.”

Leah took over. “What Earl’s trying to get at is, we don’t think you have a demon.”

Unexpectedly, a flicker of hope began to dance in Haven’s brain. “You don’t?”

“You know our church?” Leah pointed up to the hilltop where the little white building lay hidden by trees. “Our faith tells us that the Lord gives some people gifts. Lets us see things that others can’t. I’m one of the lucky ones. I got a hunch you are, too. If so, we might be able to help you out.”

Haven felt her eyes being drawn to the box at Earl’s feet.

The man slapped his knee and let loose a high-pitched cackle. “No, we ain’t gonna make you touch any snakes if you don’t want to. And we don’t roll around on the floor the whole time, neither.”

“Haven?” Beau had heard the sound of voices, and he barreled into the opening in the woods. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Leah and her uncle were just talking about their church.”

The old man stood and picked up his box. Though he was six inches shorter than Beau, he managed to give the boy a good looking over. “You Ben Decker’s son?”

“I am.” Beau bristled. In Snope City, where everyone knew he was gay, the question was usually followed by a snicker or a scowl.