Where Darkness Dwells (24 page)

Jacob felt helpless. He no longer wanted to ponder his brother's fate, or wonder what horrible agony he could be suffering this very instant. All he wanted was to stop thinking about anything bleak or depressing. Stepping into the mud, he came across a smooth, egg-shaped pebble. He kicked it loose with his sodden shoe and spotted a target. A large boulder peaking from a cover of tall grass. He picked up the stone and cocked his arm back past his ear, then threw with all of his tension and anger as he released the rock. It spun just high of the target, cutting through the grass, coming to a stop after colliding with a tree trunk deeper in the grass.

"She'll know we're okay," Ellie said softly.

"I'm sorry?" Jacob looked up from his search for a new throwing rock. Ellie once again sat on the top porch step. With her hunger sated, the fatigue had left her cheeks, replaced by crimson berry streaks.

"Your mom will know we're okay. We left the flowers in the kitchen. She'll see them and know we're okay."

"I hadn't thought about that." Even though his brother had disappeared without a trace, Jacob hadn't considered how his mom would feel if she came home from the funeral to find the house empty. His only concern had been trying to stay out of trouble. Now, considering how much his mom wanted to keep their family together and strong, he felt like an inconsiderate ass. "I hope you're right."

With some effort, he pulled an oblong rock from the mud. He spotted a new target: the metal coal chute door set in the foundation of the house. The rock slipped his grip as he whipped it through the air. It tilted end over end in a rainbow arc, hitting a second floor window.

"Jacob!"

"I didn't mean it. It slipped."

"Your gonna wake the ghosts."

"Ellie, I told you, there's no such thing." Ignoring Ellie's worry, possibly even spurred on by it, he snatched another rock from the muddy ground. The rain washed over him, running freely under his clothes, over his skin. He felt cold but refreshed. He aimed and fired. This time the trajectory, while truer, still missed the coal chute door, shattering against the stone foundation.

"Jacob!"

"All right, fine."

"Hey! Knock it off!" a voice called out from above.

Jacob's heart seemed to stutter as he looked up, certain he would see Reverend Blankenship staring sternly from the window, waving his bible through the air in condemnation.

Someone leaned at the waist from the window. Getting wet and angrier each passing second. Before Jacob could realize ghosts couldn't get wet--if they did indeed exist--he fell over on his back. He recognized the man--it was the hobo from the search party. Cooper something-or-other.

"Jacob, you wait right there. I'm coming down."

15.

Cooper was initially upset at the children when he brought them inside. Once they were out of the rain he had assured them that they were safe, and after Jacob Fowler had apologize about a dozen times for breaking the window, they began to relax. They stood shoulder to shoulder, dripping puddles onto the dusty floor. Besides being soaked through, their skin was pale and they looked strained as if from lack of sleep. With such a sorry sight standing before him, Cooper couldn't stay mad.

"Here, take these." Cooper handed them each a thin wool blanket from his pack. Rain had drenched him many times in his travels. He'd learned that even on a warm day, a heavy rain could leech the heat from a person's core.

"You know, I have some chore money saved. You can have it to fix that window."

"For the last time, Jacob, it's okay. I forgive you. The window was probably no good anyway, and I would've replaced it before winter. Now just dry up and get warm. I'll heat up some tea to chase the chill from your bones."

"Did you buy this house?" Ellie asked. Her lips were no longer blue-tinged, but purple, warming to pink. She kept looking around, as if expecting someone, or something, to jump out from hiding. He thought it might be a smart caution to bear. While he couldn't feel the Blankenships' presence, he couldn't discount his earlier encounter with them, either.

"Ellie--" Jacob touched her forearm, glaring at her.

"I sure did," Cooper said and then turned his attention to Jacob. "It's okay Jacob. I'm not a vagrant or criminal by any means. Actually, I used to be a librarian." Cooper couldn't help noticing Jacob raise his eyebrows dubiously. Cooper turned back to Ellie. "I was just passing through Coal Hollow on my way back to Chicago where my parents live, but once I saw this house, I just had to have it. Strange thing is, I was never looking to buy a house. I suppose if I hadn't seen it, I would've kept walking and would've never stopped in town."

Cooper broke open his pack and pulled out a bundle from a side pocket. Unfurling the campfire-stained fabric, he sorted the contents on the floor. He then poured water from his canteen into a coffee pot and then set up his tin can stove he had been using on the road. He flicked a match, and set the coffee pot on to boil.

Just short of nightfall a week after he took to the rails, Cooper had met an old tramp named Ju-Ju Bee. As they shared a campfire that night, Ju-Ju had sorted out Cooper's plight right away. Cooper had come down with a cold as soon as he left Chicago, and now it sat in his lungs, shortening his breath. He had lost weight and had little strength to make his own food. Nipping from a flask and laughing at some internal dialogue, Ju-Ju considered Cooper. The gray bristles of his beard had twisted as his face contorted into a smile. He didn't say anything for awhile, but he did set up the camp stove--a coffee can attached to a lantern's fuel belly--just as Cooper was now doing for these kids. That night, he made a savory chicken soup and strong tea that he shared with Cooper.

The tramp had mentioned his real name, Jerome. The other tramps called him Ju-Ju Bee, a nickname of a sort for Jew-bastard. He followed up right away in a low, defensive tone that if Cooper was uncomfortable with sharing a campfire with a Jew, then he could have it all for himself. And be lucky to wake in front of the dead embers, lucky enough to wake up at all with that flu deep in his chest.

"You can sit down, take a load off," Cooper said to the children as he prepared the tea.

They followed through as if he had given an order, sitting side by side on the floor, still not appearing altogether comfortable being alone with a stranger. Perhaps they even sensed Eunice nearby.

The night he met Ju-Ju, all Cooper had the energy to do was nod, his fatigue quickly catching up to him. Yeah, it was fine. He held no ill feelings toward Jews. None whatsoever. He remembered feeling lucky he hadn't come across a tramp with eyes for stealing his gear and a violent bent to his personality.

The coffee pot began to steam, and from his pack Cooper produced three dented tin cups. He checked them for cleanliness, handing the children the cleanest two and wiping the third with his shirttail. He dropped a tea bag in each cup and poured the steaming water. Ellie gripped the cup in her palms and brought it to her cheek, letting the steam warm her. Jacob, sipping too soon, winced at the heat. Cooper exhausted the stove flame and gathered his mess.

Ju-Ju had stayed with Cooper for a week, the whole time grumbling under his breath about not wanting to take up roots for fear of dying if he did. The old tramp nursed Cooper along until he could fend for himself, albeit with a nagging fatigue that felt like a fifty-pound burden on his shoulders.

During his recovery, Ju-Ju taught Cooper how to tramp. Starting out, Cooper knew next to nothing. Ju-Ju laughed at his naiveté, wondering aloud how Cooper had survived on his own, even for a week. The first thing Ju-Ju taught him was what to look for when choosing a freighter to catch, and the proper technique to employ as to not die a miserable death under the weight of the coal-burning beasts. He would then demonstrate next to a boulder near the campfire how to hide from the bulls. Ju-Ju had all sorts of distasteful tidbits to pass along about the bulls--the train conductors of the PN&E railway being the worst. They'd club a tramp to death with their batons before he could get a word out in defense.

Through his many stories, Cooper learned how to forage for food, how to stay as dry as possible, and how to cook on the go. After dinner one night, Cooper drifted off while staring into the campfire's hypnotic flames. As he slept, Ju-Ju snuck away, catching a freighter for parts unknown, his wanderlust compelling him to get on the go.

"Little muddy out to go for a stroll," Cooper said. The tea's warmth had pacified the children. The rain had eased in small degrees over the last few minutes.

Jacob brought the cup to his lips again, tempting a scalding of his tongue. The boy nodded. Ellie's cheeks had flushed with warmth. Cooper thought she might fall asleep if she weren't so suspicious of her surroundings. He looked at the camp stove Ju-Ju had left behind. He had used the re-made coffee can to cook numerous meals of bland mush or tasteless brown rice in the last year. His savior on that long ago night was a kind man, despite his rough exterior. He wished he could've said goodbye or at least thank him for saving his life.

Cooper was about to ask Jacob if they had been to the funeral. Certainly the kids had attended, but he wondered why they had wandered off. Instead, he said, "Are you going to say what you're doing out in this weather, or am I going to have to guess?"

Ellie still scanned the shadowy room. She spoke to Cooper in a whisper, "Old Greta."

"I'm sorry, I'm not familiar--"

"Ellie," Jacob cut in, hoping to quiet the girl. "He don't need to know."

"Come on, Jacob. Mr. Cooper's been nice to take us in, and you seem to like the tea just fine. There's no harm." She turned back to Cooper. "Greta knows things."

"From my experience, it's good to know things," he said and found himself smiling. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't resist Ellie's charm. She possessed an equal measure of innocence and intelligence.

"She knows things no one else knows."

Jacob set his tea aside, then stood. He walked to the window in quiet protest, his back to Ellie and Cooper.

"How so, Ellie?"

"Don't know, really, but she's got a way about her. She can tell you the weather for the day you were born, down to the color of the clouds and if the crickets started singing earlier than normal 'cause the spring rains held off for the night."

"Really?"

"Sure she can. Everyone around's seen her do it. Ain't that so, Jacob?"

The boy didn't move. Cooper saw his angular profile, his crossed arms, his solemn eyes trained out the window.

"You decided to visit Greta on a day when the whole of the summer's rainfall seems to be falling just this afternoon?"

Ellie didn't answer, but her expression darkened.

"Ellie, the rain's stopping. We catch a break, we'll make it to her house without any more trouble." Jacob removed the damp blanket from his shoulders, dropping it to his feet.

Ellie's eyes briefly held Cooper's before shying away. That half-lit second revealed the weight of her unguarded anguish, the longing for her brother.

"Let's go then." Ellie stood and handed him the empty cup. "Thanks for the tea, Mr. Cooper. It was a lifesaver."

Ellie met Jacob at the door, their wet footprints trailing across the dusty floor.

Cooper felt torn. Looking about the house, he saw all the repairs he needed to tend to, that he felt compelled to do. But more importantly, his thoughts returned to his hope that he might learn more about the Blankenships and what they wanted with him. But the children. Innocent, desperate, looking for answers from an old lady. An old lady "who knew things."

Jacob opened the door for Ellie and followed her out.

Cooper caught the door before it could close and called out as they stepped from the porch to the driveway's waiting puddles. "What's this Greta going to help you with?"

The children stopped walking. Jacob didn't turn, but Ellie did. "Someone killed Georgie. No one knows who, and no one knows where Jimmy's at, but both me and Jacob know he's still alive. If there's a person in the world who knows where Jimmy could be, it's Greta. She's gotta know." Ellie blinked through tears.

"Wait a second," Cooper said.

Jacob looked back, putting his hand on Ellie's shoulder. "Mr. Cooper, you can't stop us. What're you gonna do, carry us home?"

"No. I'm coming with you."

16.

"He's not going to last much longer," Dr. Thompson said six hundred feet below ground. He was so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. His sleep had been spotty at best since the death of George Banyon. With the additional stress from the slaughter at the Harris farm last night, and then George's burial this morning, Thompson felt lucky to still be standing.