Eden West (23 page)

“Jacob!” My mother’s voice cuts through the fog of fear. “Hold still and let Brother Samuel stitch your wound.”

Is that what she thinks he is doing? I manage to gasp out a few words: “He lies. He lies. He —”

A moist cloth smelling harshly of chemicals is clapped over my mouth, and the abyss opens, and I am swallowed.

I am dead inside.

It was not Brother Samuel who killed my soul. He only stitched the cut on my forehead. I am dead inside because I have killed myself. I move from task to task, working, praying, eating, and trying to sleep. When sleep comes, hours after I lay my body to rest, it is a sleep of nightmares and terrors. When I eat, the food is tasteless. I may as well be eating leather and dirt. When I pray, my mouth moves, but my heart is lost in a quagmire of mortification and unspeakable longing.

Brother Enos questioned me at length.
Why did the searchers find your footprints leading from the gate to the cedar grove? What were you doing outside the fence?
I told him I remembered nothing, neither how I injured my head nor where I was when it happened. He looked at me long and hard, but I told him no more.

I do remember, of course. Would that I could forget! But there is no question of confessing my sins. I am beyond that, my shame too deep, my sins too vast.

Father Grace has taught us that no sin is unforgivable if we are truly repentant, and therein lies the rub. I regret my sins, but I would not undo them. How can I repent being who I am?

I think about Lynna constantly.

My fingers and toes are flaking with the aftereffects of frostbite. They function, but even the slightest chill sets them to aching. I am given indoor work. Women’s work. I perform such chores as are assigned to me without complaint. I speak when I am spoken to. Often, I catch my mother staring at me, her crease of caring deep. One day, as I am scouring a crusted soup kettle in the kitchen, she tells me she is worried about me.

“I am fine,” I tell her. “I am healing.”

“I am not concerned about your body, Jacob. You are young and strong. I am worried about
you
. You seem so unhappy.”

“Everyone is unhappy,” I say.

She nods. “Yes, it has been a difficult winter. Your father says we are being tested.”

“If so, I have failed.”

“How have you failed? Twice you have been smote down, and twice you have returned to us. You are twice blessed.”

“I have been twice punished.”

“Punished? For what?”

I shake my head and rub vigorously at a scab of burned food in the bottom of the kettle. I hear my mother sigh.

“Know that you are loved, Jacob. Time will heal all.”

I visit the Sacred Heart at odd hours, when I can be alone with the Tree. It is bare of leaves now, with only a handful of shriveled fruits still clinging to its branchlets. As my mouth offers up prayers, I think about things that can never be. I imagine myself leaving Nodd again, following the cattle trail to Lynna’s Worldly domain. She opens the door with a smile.

The moment of comfort I take from this thought evaporates as she sees who I am. Her smile falls away. The door slams.

In another version of my fantasy, she sees me and smiles, and as her lips
part I
see the long, sharp teeth of a wolf, and I know I would bare my throat to her were I able.

Yet another winter storm comes, this one stealthily, in the night. I venture forth from Menshome to perform my morning ablutions and discover that Nodd has become a confection, frosted with a cubit of fluffy, sparkling snow. It is heartrending in its beauty, and for a short time I forget about the darkness that lies beneath it.

Soon the Village is abuzz with activity. All who are able pitch in to clear the snow from our walkways. I hear the distant drone of Brother Peter clearing the roads with his tractor, and the laughter of the young children playing in the fresh, pure snow. Ignoring the ache in my fingers, I take it upon myself to clear the walkways between Menshome and the Hall of Enoch. By the end of the day, the Village has become a maze, with walls of white on either side of every walkway and road. As I walk through this labyrinthine wonderland I see and hear the Grace at work, and I feel for the first time in many weeks that I am a part of them.
This is the true Heart of Nodd
, I think: all of us together, working as one, building and protecting and making ourselves ready for what is to come. And for the first time in months I can see a path to atonement, to forgiveness, to forgetfulness, to purity. Zerachiel may come tomorrow, or long after I am gone. It matters not. I can do only what I am able to do, and no more.

That night I fall asleep directly. I am sunk deep in my dreams when I am awakened by the buzzing of a motor. It is late. I cannot imagine why Brother Peter should be operating any of his vehicles at this time of night. I hear the muffled sound of voices from outside. Curious, I rise and pull on my trousers and boots. Will is standing outside his cell in his nightclothes.

“What is it?” I ask.

“A visitor, I think.”

“From outside?”

“I don’t know. Brother Jerome is out there.”

I start down the hallway toward the front door, which is standing ajar. I hear Brother Jerome’s voice. I am almost to the door when I hear Lynna’s voice, high-pitched and frantic. “I don’t care about your stupid rules. I want to see Jacob! I
have
to see Jacob!”

I rush to the door. Brother Jerome and Lynna are standing just outside the entrance. Jerome is holding Lynna by the arm. He is dressed, as am I, in his nightshirt, with hastily donned trousers and unlaced boots. Lynna is wearing a puffy down jacket and a wool stocking cap. Lynna’s ATV is parked at the corner of Menshome. She has driven it right into the Village.

Lynna sees me and, with a violent effort, tears herself loose from Jerome and rushes toward me.

“Jacob!” She throws her arms around me. “Oh my God, Jacob!”

I am all things in that moment: happy to see her, startled by her embrace, horrified by her presence, and terribly embarrassed. Jerome, Will, and now Brother Aaron are all gaping at us.

“Lynna . . .” I extract myself from her arms just as Brother Enos comes running from the direction of Elderlodge, followed closely by my father. Only Enos is fully dressed. I wonder if he sleeps in his clothes.

“What is this?” Enos asks.

Lynna faces him, her jaw set. “I’m Lynna Evert, Max Evert’s daughter.”

Enos looks from her to me.

“Brother Jacob?”

I have no words. I am looking at my father, standing behind Enos. I can almost hear his thoughts, his certain knowledge that I am more tainted than ever he realized, that I am beyond redemption.

The lines framing Enos’s mouth deepen, and his eyes narrow. He turns his fierce gaze on Lynna. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to ask for sanctuary,” she says, raising her chin defiantly.

“In the darkest hours of the night? You drive your machine into our Village and demand sanctuary?”

“Yes,” Lynna says in a voice that makes it clear she will not back down.

Enos steps closer to her and examines her face. “You are a child. Go home.”

Lynna looks quickly at me, then away, and I can see the uncertainty overtaking her.

“I can’t,” she says.

“And why is that?” Enos’s tone becomes honey smooth.

Lynna shakes her head.

“We have no secrets in Nodd,” Enos says, still with the smooth voice.

I think how easily he lies.

“Why have you come to us?” he asks. “Why now?”

Lynna bites her lip and looks at me again. “I will tell Jacob,” she says.

“You will tell
me
, woman!” Enos’s tone has lost its honey.

Lynna is visibly crumbling. I step between them and put my hands on her shoulders. Brother Will gasps audibly at such boldness, but I am beyond caring. My connection with this Worldly girl is undeniable. Enos can only do so much.

I look into her face. “Lynna, what happened?”

She blinks, and tears course from her eyes.

“Jacob . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go. I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

She lowers her voice to a whisper. “I killed Cal, Jacob. I killed him dead.”

For a moment, I think that I am the only one who has heard her words, but I am wrong.

“Brother Jerome!” Enos snaps. “Bring the girl to my office. Now!” He turns and walks quickly toward Elderlodge. Jerome grabs Lynna’s arm and pulls her after him. She looks back at me desperately. I start after them, but my father stops me with a word.

“Jacob,” he says. “You will only make matters worse,” he says.

“How could they be
worse
?” My voice cracks. Brothers Will and Aaron are staring at me as if I am the devil himself.

“Back inside, you two,” my father snaps at them. “Let me talk to my son.”

Will and Aaron retreat to Menshome, leaving my father and me standing in the cold in our nightshirts. He gives me a long, searching look

“Tell me what is going on, Jacob.”

“I don’t
know
what’s going on!”

He presses his lips together and nods. “It is time we talked. Let’s go inside where it is warm.”

I follow him into Menshome. We take off our unlaced boots and sit before the woodstove, facing each other. I wait for him to speak. It has been so long since the two of us have talked that I do not know how to begin.

“The girl’s name is Lynna?” he says.

I nod, looking at the floor. Our feet look exactly the
same.

“She is a friend of yours?”

“I know her,” I say.

“Is it true what she said? That she killed Cal Evert?”

“I don’t know. If she did, he deserved it.”

“Jacob,” he says in a soft voice, “no one deserves to die.”

I look up at him, and instead of seeing his usual dis approving, accusing expression, I see pain and sorrow.

“Tell me about her,” he says.

And so I do. I tell him everything. I think he will be angry, but with each word I speak, I see him grow sadder.

When I have finished speaking he sighs. “Was her uncle molesting her?”

I think back over the things Lynna told me. “She said he never did. But she must have thought he might.” I tell him about her showing me the knife used to castrate animals, and calling it her
Cal-strating
knife.

“And this girl, who might or might not have lain with her own kin, and who may be a murderess . . . you have feelings for this girl?”

I nod, my jaw set.

“I have failed you,” he says.

“I don’t care.”

He winces as if I have jabbed him with a needle.

“She came to us for sanctuary,” I say.

“Jacob, the girl is clearly not of age. Her father will come for her, and maybe the police. They will have to sort out what will happen to her. We cannot shelter her. My greatest concern now is for you, and the price you will pay for what you have done.”

“Brother Samuel can cut my brain open and make me stupid. I don’t care.”

His mouth falls open, and I see that I have truly shocked him.

“Jacob! That would never happen!”