The Summer of Our Discontent (13 page)

Rachel glanced at Faith for a second and looked away. “I wonder how much I should tell you. You may very well throw all of it in my face when we get back to Michaud.”

“Yes, I could, but I won’t. How am I going to get to know you if we don’t talk about our lives?”

“Tell me about the wrinkles you mentioned earlier.”

Faith shrugged. “I don’t like to be caged. I’m faithful,” she grinned, “no pun, when it’s serious. I don’t know what vibe I send off, but I tend to make women nervous—crazy. They all lock down on me, like I’m some wild animal that needs to be tamed. The last woman I thought was a good candidate suddenly started checking my phone every time we got together. She didn’t like that I work twenty-four-hour shifts, even accused me of fooling around with Alvin because we work together all the time. I want to be held on to loosely, and I do the same. I guess that translates into them thinking I don’t care. This last one told me she never felt like she had me completely.” Faith shrugged. “There was no one else; I thought we had something until she lost her mind.”

Rachel slowly rubbed her temple as she rested her head against the chair. “
Cyn
told me the same thing, but it was after I found out about the affair. Maybe it’s the jobs we work, we always have to keep an emotional distance. Perhaps we can’t shut it off when we get home. The funny thing is, I thought I was bending over backward to keep her happy. There were so many nights I just wanted to go to sleep, but I sat up and watched movies with her or we just talked. I will admit that loving her didn’t come easily. I had to work at it. That at least should come easy.”

“Right,” Faith agreed with a nod. “That’s why I’ve dated so much. I haven’t found that woman yet. I thought I had a couple of times, but I was wrong.” She laughed. “You gotta give me a bonus point for trying my slipper on as many as I can.”

“But don’t you think you’ve given up in a way by not trying it on Ms. Casual?”

Faith shook her head. “I get lonely. For a little while, she makes me forget that. And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll break this truce and whip your ass.”

“You never whipped my ass,” Rachel said with a laugh. “You have to admit, it was always a draw. I don’t think I ever bested you, and I know you never did me.”

“That slap you gave me the last time we fought physically made my ears ring for a week. I needed a fight that day. Whitt
Marchand
had tormented me all day. I refused to show he got to me, but oh, dear God, I wanted to hurt him. I marched right up into your territory, and you gave me the fight I was looking for.”

“We did that a lot. After Keely, the psychologist, got a hold of us, I mulled all of that over. I think we used each other. We’d fought when we were little and knew what to expect. As strange as it sounds, I knew you’d never really hurt me. I had some bruises, but you could’ve done worse. A real psychotherapist would have a field day with us because that’s really kind of twisted.”

Faith held out her fist, and Rachel bumped it. “Glad I could be there for you. I don’t see it as all that odd. Girls we went to school with did the same to one another, it just didn’t get physical. You and I just had that…magic.”

Rachel laughed. “Yeah, that’s how we’ll put it. You wanna wrestle to see who gets to shower first because I’m not sharing the bathhouse with you?”

“You’re turning me on again.”

“Ah,” Rachel said with a growl, “you’re so sick.

Chapter Seventeen

Faith tossed and turned. The heat in her cabin was cloying. The wall that surrounded her was just high enough to block the breeze. If she didn’t fear contracting West Nile or looking like she had the chickenpox from multiple mosquito bites, she would’ve taken her mattress to the picnic table again. She stood and raised her tank top as a light breeze cooled her skin. The moon was full, and she stared up at it feeling like she was the only one on the planet who wasn’t sleeping. She was about to start feeling really sorry for herself when she heard a sneeze and a whispered curse in the cabin next to hers. “Bless you,” she whispered.

Rachel’s “thanks” was barely audible.

Faith stared up at the swarm of bugs surrounding the light near the back of the mess hall, then lazily gazed at the woods beyond. Something caught her attention when it moved. She rubbed her eyes and stared at it. Whatever it was moved several feet off the ground and lowered slowly again. At first, she thought it was a plastic bag caught on a tree, but the movement was too deliberate, and it didn’t appear to be affected by the light breeze. The object was pale white, maybe four to six inches in width and possibly eight or ten inches long. Faith cocked her head to the side as it continued to levitate, then lower to the ground.

“Rachel?”

No response. Faith backed over to her bed, keeping an eye on the oddity. “Rachel,” she whispered louder.

Annoyance was apparent. “What?”

“There’s…something in the woods.”

“There’s a lot of ‘
somethings
’ in the woods.”

Faith blinked rapidly. “This something doesn’t seem to belong.”

Rachel sat up. “There’s someone in the woods?”

“Not someone, some
thing
, and its creepy.”

Rachel flopped back down. “Wake me up if it tries to get into my cabin.”

“I’m serious, this is freaking me out…it could be a ghost. Get over here.”

Rachel looked menacing in her
Tweety
Bird boxer shorts and yellow tank top as she walked into Faith’s cabin. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Because it’s one degree hotter than hell in here,” Faith pointed, “and there’s that.”

Rachel looked toward the trees. “That what?”

Faith put a hand on her shoulder. “Look at the back of the mess hall and slowly pan left.” She knew Rachel had spotted it when she moved closer to the screen and blinked.

“That’s a bag.”

“No, watch it for a moment.” In silence, they watched as the thing slowly rose, then moved back to the ground. Sometimes it would move quicker, other times it would fade only to reappear seconds later. “I should get my phone out and film it in case it’s a ghost.”

“I don’t believe in ghosts.” Rachel continued to stare.

“I didn’t either until this one showed up. Maybe it’s an angry Indian spirit, mad because we’re on its land. Kaycee did find an arrowhead here.”

“Why would you assume it’s angry?” Rachel took her gaze off of it for a second to glance at Faith. “Maybe there’s something dangerous out there like a bear, and it’s trying to protect us.”

“You sure know how to make a freaky experience sound dire.”

“Well, you said it was mad,” Rachel argued. “What’s worse than that?”

Faith put her hands on her hips. “I’ve never seen on the news that someone was killed by a ghost, but a lot of people have been mauled by a bear!”

Rachel held up a hand. “Calm down.”

“I am calm. This is as good as it gets in the face of the otherworldly. Go ask it what it wants or get your gun and shoot it.”

“What is it with you and shooting everything?” Rachel asked. “I’m not gonna fire at some unidentified…floating object, and I’m not going to talk to it, either.”

“So what do we do?”

Rachel shrugged and folded her arms. “Watch it, I guess, until we figure out what it is.”

“I don’t like your plan.”

“You have a better one?”

Faith held up her hands. “I think I expressed it a moment ago.”

“Does it…seem…like it’s coming closer?”

Rachel and Faith took a step back from the screen. “Aw, shit, we’re gonna get it now. It just figures that you and I are gonna take the brunt for the atrocities early Americans did to the Indians,” Faith said nervously.

“I hope it’s packing a peace pipe. You need something to take the edge off.”

“Are you gonna stand there and tell me that
Tweety
isn’t crawling up the crack of your ass as it puckers?”

Rachel made a face. “Your analogies, no pun, are nasty. It’s closer, I’m not imagining it, that thing is closer to us.”

They took another step backward together, Faith’s bed blocking further retreat. “How do you explain that, Rachel? It’s unaffected by the wind, it’s moving on its own accord, and it’s coming toward us.”

“I don’t know,” Rachel said distractedly as she continued to stare. “I’m
kinda
wishing that you wouldn’t have woken me up. Remind me to beat you for that tomorrow.”

“Oh, man, every line from every scary movie I’ve ever watched is replaying in my mind. Like, ‘You can see spirits when you’re close to death.’ That one in particular makes me want to wet my shorts.”

Rachel reached over and took hold of Faith’s arm. “It’s closer.”

“Okay, stop with the play-by-play thing. I can see that it’s moving toward us. What you could do is tell me how the hell we’re gonna get away from it. I really don’t want to talk to the spirit world.”

Rachel squeezed her arm tighter. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll annoy them as much as you do me.”

“Great, I’m gonna die with you. Isn’t this just some shitty karma? We spend our lives fighting, we finally make peace, and now we’re gonna be snatched out of life together.”

“Stop saying things like die and snatched, you’re giving me the heebie-jeebies.” Rachel swallowed convulsively. “I’m not going to say that it’s closer, but I want to.”

They huddled together, clinging to each other tightly, not really ready to meet their maker. The apparition drew closer to the light. Rachel was breathing heavily through her nose, and Faith was shaking like a leaf. Something darker formed behind the lightness of the object, then it moved into the shaft of light, illuminating the ground behind the mess hall.

Rachel released an explosive breath. “Is that…”

“It’s a cow. Oh, dear God, it’s a cow with a white face.” Faith sagged against her. The two plopped down onto the bed staring at it. Faith began to laugh first. “A hamburger on legs nearly made me shit myself.”

“Where did it come from?” Rachel asked, still in shock.

“It must’ve gotten through a fence somewhere. Maybe it’ll go back, or it’ll be here in the morning.”

Rachel put her hands over her face and began to laugh then. “If you ever tell anyone I work with that I nearly freaked out, I’ll have to kill you.”

“Are you kidding? I’d never live that down.” Faith leaned against the wall. “And I’m never gonna sleep again. What time is it?”

Rachel pressed a button on her watch. “Four sixteen. I’m going back to bed.”

Faith was shocked. “You can actually go back to sleep? Isn’t your blood pressure still in the rafters?”

“I can sleep anytime anywhere.” She patted Faith on the back. “Count some cows, you’ll drift off. Good night, or morning.” Rachel returned to her cabin, and Faith listened as she settled in.

“Rachel?”

“What?”

“I hate you.”

“Hate you, too, sweet dreams.”

Chapter Eighteen

Rachel sipped her coffee and watched as Faith struggled to keep her eyes open. She looked as though at any moment she’d do a face plant in her breakfast tray. Rachel debated taking out her phone and filming, but as she glanced down the table at the group at the other end, she had second thoughts when she noted the amused interest on their faces.

The divide seemed to grow wider with each passing day marked by the space on the bench at the table. Keely and the other chaperones made it clear they had no interest in including Rachel and Faith in their private group. Not that Rachel minded at all, but it did rile her a bit that Keely spoke about setting examples, yet they were setting one themselves. Rachel could shoulder some of the blame. She’d never really sat with them, anyway, favoring the kids’ tables, but since Faith was there, she’d joined the adults.