The Prophet of Yonwood (15 page)

She decided to keep this letter because of the strange way it was written. She set it on the shelf with the picture of the twins.

It was time to meet Crystal for dinner. Nickie walked toward downtown. Overhead, she heard the fighter jets again, roaring across the sky, above the clouds. She shivered, thinking of the presidents deadline. Only three days left.

The whole town had a gloomy, closed-in look tonight. Nearly all the houses were dark, their blinds and curtains drawn. A small house on Birch Street had lighted windows, though, and as Nickie passed she saw a police car draw up in front of it. Good, she thought. Theyre going to make those people follow the rules.

When she got to the Cozy Corner and pushed open the door, warm food-scented air greeted her. The restaurant was dim because its lights were off, but candles on each table made it seem cozy anyhow. She spotted Crystal right away: she was sitting with her back to Nickie, at a table beside the window, and across from her sat a tall man with a little mustache. It must be Len, the real estate agent. Why washe here? Crystal hadnt said she was meeting Len for dinner. Shed said she andNickie would have dinner together and Nickie would tell about her adventures. Not that she had any adventures she wanted to tell about.

Len saw her standing there. He said something to Crystal, and she turned around and called, Nickie! Here we are!

When Nickie sat down, Crystal said, I talked to your mother today. She got a card from your father. Didnt say where he was or what he was doing, but he said he might have a surprise for her pretty soon.

He must be coming home! Nickie said. Oh, I hope he is. She missed her father with a terrible ache all of a sudden. He called her his chickadee and made paper airplanes for her. She wished he were here right now.

She wanted to ask if her mother had said anything else, but Crystal had moved on to another subject. Weve been planning, she said. Were thinking this Saturday for the open house.

Crossing our fingers for good weather, said Len, grinning, and holding up two sets of crossed fingers and wagging them at Nickie.

That means a lot of work has to get done during the next three days, said Crystal. She sounded quite cheerful about it. She took her notebook out of her purse, and she and Len started in on still another to-do list as if it were the most fun thing in the world.

Nickie ordered her soup and stared out the window. The last of the sunlight edged the top of the mountain in gold. Someone in a Dont Do It! T-shirt walked by, and someone else with a cell phone clapped to her ear. Across the street, a black car pulled into the gas station. Hoyt McCoy got out of it. Just the sight of him made Nickie feel guilty. She watched as he filled up his gas tank, and she was glad when he drove off, heading down the road that led to the highway.

Dinner took forever. Crystals to-do list got longer and longer, and every item had to be discussed in tedious detail. Now and then Nickie commented on something, but no one paid attention to her. She was just about to say she was going back to Greenhaven when there was a loud tap on the window next to her. Startled, she turned. Outside stood Grover, his eyes round and worried-looking.

Whosthat ? said Crystal.

The handymans son, Nickie said. I sort of know him. She laughed, thinking he was joking around as usual. But instead of breaking into a smile or a maniac face, Grover shook his head and beckoned to her. His mouth moved, making exaggerated words: Come out. Nickies smile froze on her face. What was wrong?

She stood up from the table. I have to go ask him something, she said, and before Crystal and Len could say a word, she dashed out the door and hurried after Grover.

CHAPTER 20 ______________

Orders

He was waiting for her a few steps farther up the block, outside a shoe store.

Whats the matter? she said. Why were you looking at me like that?

Something bad has happened, he said. You know my snakes?

She nodded.

They told me I have to get rid of them.

What? Who told you?

Brenda Beeson. I went home for lunch and there was a note for me in the mailbox. It said snakes are touched with evil and it isnt good to keep them and I have to get rid of them.

Oh, said Nickie, with a shock of dismay.

Someone must have told her, Grover said. I think I know who: my so-called friend Martin.

Nickie didnt answer. She stared at a man taking the display tables of on-sale shoes inside for the night. She didnt want to meet Grovers eyes.

He was lurking around outside my shed a few days ago, Grover went on. Someone was, anyway. He ran away before I could see who it was. He scowled. I dontwant to get rid of my snakes.

Nickie felt a sickening dizziness. She couldnt remember, all of a sudden, whose side she was on. Was she Gods helper or Grovers friend? Her mind went numb. She didnt know what to say.

I had to tell someone, Grover said. I saw you in there, so He shrugged, looking at her curiously, probably wondering why she was standing there like a dummy.

Without her even wanting it to, the truth pushed its way out of her. It wasnt a he, she said, looking down at the sidewalk.

What? Who wasnt?

It was me. Outside your shed. It was me who told her about the snakes.

Grovers mouth dropped open. You?You?

Ive been helping her, Nickie said. Looking for things that are bad, you know, helping her root them out. I didntknow if keeping snakes was bad. I just asked her about it. Thats all I did.

Why are youhelping her? Grover said. He flung his hands out and looked at her with an I cant believe this expression.

Because I want to fight against evil, Nickie said. Find trouble spots. Help keep everything on the side of good, so well be safe.

You know what theyre going to do if I dont get rid of my snakes? Grover said.

What?

Put one of those bracelet things on me. Hah! he cried out suddenly. A woman passing by gave him a startled look. Let em try it. Theyre never gonna touch me.

What bracelet things? Nickie asked.

You dont know about them? Grover circled his wrist with his thumb and forefinger. They hum. They goMMMMmmmm-MMMMmmmm. Some little nonstop battery thing powers them. You cant get them off, even with a hammer or a hacksaw, because theyre made of something incredibly hard. Anybody they say is a sinner gets one. Nobody can talk to a person with a bracelet, and they wont take it off till you either quit sinning or leave.

Leave?

Leave town. Move somewhere else.

That must be what Ive heard, then, Nickie said. Twice I heard it.

Theres three or four people who have them right now. They dont come out much. They dont want to be seen. Jonathan Small has one. So does Ricky Platt.

What did they do wrong?

I dont know about Ricky, but Jonathan sings, said Grover. No one is supposed to, since the Prophet said No singing. But he sings these loud show tunes in the shower every morning. His neighbors heard him, and the cops came and snapped the bracelet on him. He said he wouldnt quit singing, but I think hes about ready to change his mind. That bracelet thing drives a person crazy. He twisted his lips in a disgusted way. A whole lot of people got these letters in their mailboxes. I heard about two of em already: The Elwoods got one for yelling at each other. Maryessa Brown got one for smoking. And you should have seen what happened to old Hoyt McCoy. They brought out the whole police force and tried to arrest him. I saw itI was there.

Nickies heart had started beating rapidly. Maybe you should let the snakes go, she said.

Why should I? he said. What harm are they doing?

They could bite someone, Nickie said weakly.

Theres a lock on the shed! No one goes in there but me! Grover was shouting now, and people passing by were frowning at him. His face took on its wild-eyed look. And anyway, he yelled, theyrenot venomous snakes !

Nickie stepped back. Im sorry, she said. I was just trying toI dont know, to do the right thing. She took a deep, shaky breath. If they try to put one of those bracelets on you, what will you do?

Run. They wont catch me. Grovers chin jutted out, and his lips pressed together in a hard line. He pointed a finger at her and shook it in her face. You shouldthink about whats the right thing to do. Not just take someones word for it. And with that he turned around and stalked away, leaving Nickie standing beside the door of the shoe store, with dark feelings swirling through her like storm clouds.

The storm in her mind got worse when she tried to sleep that night. She couldnt stop thinking about the blue envelopes. Mrs. Beeson must have given one to every person who was doing something theyd decided was wrong. How many of them were people Nickie herself had talked about? And were they all going to do what they were told? Or were there others like Grover, who would refuse? And whatwas the right thing to do?

She didnt feel well. Her stomach was all unsettled. She lay in bed for a long time, not sleeping, thinking about Grovers snakes, and the humming bracelets, and the Prophet, and the president, and God, and about good versus evil, until her mind was a swirl of confusion. Finally, she crept out of bed. She felt her way down the hall in the dark to the back stairs, and she tiptoed up to the third floor and into the nursery. Otis, whod been asleep on the bed that had been Amandas, jumped down and ran to her, wagging his rear end, and Nickie picked him up and got into the bed herself. She could feel the warm spot where hed been lyingit was right by her knees. She put him back there and laid one arm across his furry body, and after that she felt better. But she didnt sleep soundly that night. A dark feeling stayed with her. She wasnt sure if it was guilt or dread.

CHAPTER 21 ______________

Getting Ready for the Open House

For the next two days, Wednesday and Thursday, Nickie worked with Crystal at Greenhaven, helping her get ready for the open house. Crystal gave her the assignment of cleaning and neatening the rooms on the third floor. We wont bother to make those rooms beautiful, she said, but they can at least be presentable. Get rid of mess and cobwebs, sweep up the dead bugs, take extra furniture down to the basement, that sort of thing. She cast her critical gaze around the front parlor, where they were standing. The rest of the house, she said, has to be as elegant as possible. I think we can manage it. The house has good bones.

Once each day, Crystal came up to the third floor to see how the work was going, and Nickie had to quickly close Otis into the hall closet and put the radio on loud to disguise any sounds he might make. Luckily, Crystal wasnt very interested in the rooms on the third floor. All she wanted was for them not to look too awful. She glanced in, said Nickie was doing a good job, and went back downstairs.

As she worked, Nickie turned over the problem of goodness in her mind. On Thursday evening, as they were sitting in the kitchen having a dinner of canned soup and soda crackers, and listening to the news on the radio, she asked Crystal her question.

Crystal, she said. How do you tell if something is good or bad?

Crystal was exhausted from rearranging furniture and hauling boxes of stuff down to the local thrift shop. You mean like a good or bad book? she said. A good or bad movie?

No, Nickie said, I mean like something you do. How do you know if its a good thing to do or not?

On the radio, the news announcer broke off in the middle of a sentence, and there was a sudden silence. Then he said, We have a bulletin from the president. One moment.

The presidents voice came on, not quite as smooth as usual. Instead of answering Nickies question, Crystal held up one finger and said, Listen.

One day remains, the president said, before the deadline we have issued to the Phalanx Nations. I regret to say no progress has been made. Our resolve is firm: we will not back down in the face of threats from godless evildoers. Citizens should prepare for possible large-scale conflict. Please refer to the Homeland Security website at www

Crystal turned down the radio. She frowned and broke a few soda crackers into her soup. It sounds bad, she said. We ought to be all right here, but Im worried about your mother in the city.

Lets call her, then, said Nickie, and tell her to come.

No, I wouldnt want her traveling right now. Im not really sure what to do. She turned up the radio again, but the president was finished, and the newsman was reporting on a terrorist group that had taken a hundred hostages and was refusing to release them until they swore to follow the one true faith.

Could you answer my question now? said Nickie. About how you tell if something is good or bad?

Its a deep question, Crystal said, and Im deeply tired. I guess if I had to answer, Id say that you look to see if what youre doing causes harm. If it hurts anyone. If so, its probably not good.

What if it doesnt hurt anypeople, said Nickie, or even any animals, but it hurts God?

Hurts God? How can God be hurt?

Well, I mean if what you do goes against what God says.

Youd have to know what he says, then, wouldnt you? Assuming hes up there saying anything. Crystal swallowed a spoonful of soup. Its too deep for me, she said. I just want to eat my dinner and go to bed. And by the way, your mom called again and read me another one of those odd postcards from your dad.

Nickie jumped up. Did you write it down? Where is it?

Its here somewhere. Crystal went out to the hall. Here. She handed Nickie a scrap of paper.

It said:

Dear Rachel and Nickie,

How is everything with you? Here its work as usual. I am doing all right, though I miss you both.

Love, Dad

P.S. Nickie, I was thinking about that movie we went to for your ninth birthday. Wasnt it called Snowblind?

Nickie thought back to when she turned nine. She remembered it well. She and Kate and Sophy had gone ice-skating. There was no movie. So this confirmed it: either her father was losing his mind, or he was sending a message in some sort of code. She would crack it. She was sure she could. She took the postcard messages into her bedroom, spread them out on the bed, and began to study them in earnest. And after a while, she had an idea about what the key to the code might be.