Authors: Lily Cahill
The right seam was perfect, sitting like a dream, but the left wouldn’t lay flat no matter how carefully she stitched. The neckline finally looked nice, but it had taken several hours to do what would have taken minutes on her machine.
It was enough to drive her mad, but she didn’t want to ask Henry for anything new. Firstly, a machine was too expensive, and secondly, he didn’t know she was working with the fabric he’d bought for her all those weeks before. She wanted it to be a surprise.
Although if the left seam didn’t start cooperating, she was going to lose her temper and accidentally incinerate the whole project.
Things were finally starting to come together. Ruth sang to herself, half-remembered songs that June had used to play all the time on her little record player. She hadn’t sung in ages, and her voice was rusty, but it felt good to do it again. It felt good to have a reason to sing at all.
All she needed to do was fix the seam, attach the bodice to the skirt, and insert a zipper. Another day’s work, and Henry would come home to find her waiting in red chiffon. A little over the top and fancy, maybe, but there was nothing wrong with that, every now and again.
The door opened. Ruth scrambled to put a pillow over her lap, hiding the worst of the evidence. The shears sat on the table, mocking her.
“Ruth?” Henry called out.
Ruth glanced toward the window—the sun was still high in the sky. It was early afternoon. “In here.”
Henry appeared, smiling from across the room.
“You’re home early.”
He nodded, but stayed in place. Ruth hoped he didn’t move. The second she had to stand, the surprise would be over.
“Granddad told me to take the afternoon. I thought we could go see a picture, get dinner. Have fun.”
The way he grinned at her lit up his whole face, and she felt herself returning it without thought or hesitation. “I’ve never seen a film before,” she admitted.
He blinked in surprise, but recovered quickly. “Fairly sure the Millers are playing a movie about giant killer ants.” Henry waggled his eyebrows. “How does that sound?”
“Ridiculous. Why don’t you go change? We can leave right away. I’m going to the mine tonight, and I don’t want to miss the meeting.”
“You got it.” He winked, and Ruth breathed out a sigh of relief. She put her supplies in a pile under the couch. Henry would never look there.
Them,
the movie playing at the town’s single-screen theater,
really had been about giant killer ants. Ruth had been pinned to her seat with terror. The pictures were large and moving and overwhelming, and she’d never been a fan of bugs to begin with. She was certain the film was going to give her nightmares.
Henry was still laughing about her reaction even as they slid into one of the booths at the diner. The place was deserted, only three other tables filled. In the corner, Ruth spotted Meg Fields and Will Briggs. There were no other patrons in the tables surrounding them, the other two couples choosing the exact opposite side of the room. As Ruth passed by on Henry’s arm, they both smiled and nodded. She made sure to do the same, wondering if they, too, would be at the mine tonight.
The waitress came by right away, dropping off menus with a smile. “I’ll be right back, you two. Think about what you’d like to drink.”
She headed back toward the kitchen to pick up an order that had appeared in the window. As she passed Will, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me—”
The waitress walked by like she hadn’t heard him.
Ruth watched her pick up the plate and waltz over to one of the other tables, stopping to gab with the customers. As she came back around, Will tried again. “Sheila, could we get a menu?”
Sheila stopped in front of Henry and Ruth instead, flashing all of her teeth. Suddenly, Ruth wasn’t very hungry.
“What’ll it be?”
“I think they were here first,” Henry said, motioning toward Will and Meg.
Sheila didn’t even bother to turn around. “I don’t know who you mean. We don’t serve their kind here.”
Ruth glanced back at the corner. She didn’t know Will and Meg, not really, but she knew they were like her, and that was enough. The Independents looked out for each other. Watching as they gathered their things to leave, Ruth was overcome with anger. Her fire raged inside of her, running hot below her skin.
Henry’s fingers touched her arm, calming her, centering her. She flashed him a grateful look.
“That was rude,” she muttered, trying to push all of her anger into her glare.
Sheila pointed at Ruth with the tip of her pen. “Aren’t you supposed to be some sort of anti-demon hero? What are you doing sticking up for the likes of
them
?” She smirked a little. “Unless the rumors are true about you.”
Ruth didn’t know which of the rumors this woman was referring to. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if everyone was saying she was fast, or if they thought her father had done something to her, or if they believed she had powers, or that she hated powers, or whatever it was that kept their mouths moving. The people who knew her,
really
knew her, knew differently.
She stood abruptly, Henry did too. Sheila backed up, giving them space, a surprised look on her face.
“Come on,” Henry said. “Let’s get out of here.”
They walked out hand-in-hand. Ruth looked to where Will and Meg were sitting, but they had already fled. She gnawed at her lip. She hoped she saw them that night, and she hoped she knew what to say.
Sheila had enjoyed ignoring them. The powers weren’t inherently evil, but those kinds of reactions to them certainly were.
The thought hit her like a lightning bolt, and Ruth stopped in her tracks. Her powers weren’t evil. She’d known it for awhile, but it still felt different to say it to herself, to fully acknowledge it: Her powers weren’t evil. In fact, they had done nothing but give her so much more than she could have ever imagined. She’d fallen in love with Henry because of them, and had become closer with June and Briar, and had met the Independents. She’d escaped her father’s abusive clutches.
They were a gift, she realized.
Her eyes flooded with grateful tears. She could hear Henry over her shoulder, asking her what was wrong, but Ruth stayed still, thinking of all that had changed for the better in her life in just a few weeks. For the first time in so long she couldn’t remember, she felt the overwhelming presence of God.
Thank you
, she said, silently.
I’m so happy, and I’m so grateful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
“Ruth? Ruth, what’s wrong?”
She opened her eyes to see Henry hovering before her, his handsome face screwed up with worry, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face, even as the tears pushed against the backs of her eyes.
“Test whatever you want, but don’t take my powers from me.” She said. She held up her hand, let it emit a low flame. They watched it dance in her palm. “I love them.”
When she looked up, Henry was soft and open, grinning. He kissed her once, briefly. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.
The flames extinguished, and Ruth went into his arms. As she breathed him in, she thought again,
Thank you, thank you, thank you
.
The trek to the mine felt short that evening. She was glad to walk alone, instead of with June and Ivan. Henry had offered to escort her, but she wanted the time alone to think.
The moon was bright in the sky, and her spirits were unusually high. Even the troubling atmosphere in town made it difficult for Ruth to feel anything but buoyant. Her revelation that evening made her feel lighter, happier than she could remember feeling in her entire life.
Her powers were a gift, and she would use them wisely.
That didn’t mean everyone was feeling quite so cheerful, however. She thought of Will and Meg slinking out of the diner and felt a little guilty for her giddiness.
She slipped between the slats into the mine, but it was a much different atmosphere she entered than it had been days earlier. There was already a large crowd gathered around the center of the room—both Briggs brothers stood near the front with Cora and Meg beside them. June, Ivan, Frank, and Evie were close by, with Matt, Blanche, and Teddy as well. Even Kent and Veronica looked worried. June nodded solemnly at her as she joined them.
Her personal revelation had made it easy to momentarily forget that there was still so much prejudice and hatred floating around town. Her father was running whole meetings devoted to eradicating her “kind” from Independence Falls; people were refusing service to anyone rumored to have powers; and no one knew if it was a punishment from God or the Soviet Union or both.
Clayton spoke first. “We need to figure out how to handle this.”
No one asked what “this” was.
“Maybe,” Frank started, stepping forward into the light of one of the barrels. “Maybe we just need to wait it out. People can’t act this way forever, can they? Once they realize we’re harmless—”
Ivan interrupted. “We’re
not
harmless. At least, not all of us. The fight proved that, and nothing we’ve done since then has helped. We try to volunteer to clean up the town, we get turned away. We act as we always have, they think we’re suspicious. We change,” he motioned at Ruth, “and we’re possessed. There’s no easy avenue here.”
“Ivan’s right.” Everyone turned to look at Cora, who stared into one of the barrels, watching the fire dance. A frown was painted across her pretty face. “No matter how we act, we’re not going to appease everyone.”
“Well, then what
should
we do?” Frank’s voice came out like a whine.
“I don’t know.” Clayton ran a hand through his hair and heaved out a sigh. “I wish I did.”
The silence hung heavy over all of them, like a physical weight. Everyone stood, shoulders hunched to their ears, waiting for someone to have a good idea.
“Maybe we just leave,” Meg said. Her tone was bitter, and she glared at her feet before looking up, addressing the crowd. “They’re not going to forgive us, or forget what’s happened.”
“Who’s to say they’ll even let us go?” Kent asked.
Blanche hugged herself around her swollen middle. “And not all of us can just leave. I have a husband, a baby on the way—I need to think of them.”
“We can’t leave,” Ruth said, piping up without meaning to. Every eye turned to look at her, and she wanted to shrink under their gazes, but she forced herself to stand tall.
These powers are a gift
, she repeated, needing the reminder.
“If we run away from here, we’re only going to have the same problems elsewhere. The only difference is, we won’t have each other to lean on.” She frowned. “Believe me, it’s much harder to be alone than it is to work as a team.”
June found her tongue first. There was a touch of a smile on her face. “Then what do you suggest, Ruth?”
Ruth shrugged. “Kill them with kindness? Give them no reason to complain about us. Some will, anyway, but if we’re consistently nice, we’ll blend into the background. People will stop caring.”
Matt Harris grinned. “That’s a mighty nice thought, but do you think it will actually work?”
“What other choice do we have?” she asked.
No one had an answer for that.
“Right. We all need to be on our best behavior from now on. Make sure everyone knows, even those of us who don’t come to the meeting. Be nice, keep a low profile.” Clayton shrugged. “And hope for the best.”
The meeting broke up quickly after that, and Ruth walked home feeling less excited than she had on her journey there. She slipped inside of Henry’s home and came up the stairs quietly, trying not to rouse him as she got into bed beside him.
She had no such luck.
“Good meeting?” he asked, blinking heavy eyelids.
Ruth kissed his cheek. “Sort of. Go back to sleep, okay?”
He nodded and was out like a light a moment later. She was awake for a few more hours, however, before she finally passed out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Henry
Henry couldn’t remember falling asleep. One minute, he’d heard Ruth come in from her meeting at the mine, the next he was being jolted awake by a pounding noise.
Beside him, Ruth stirred. Her voice was slurred with sleep as she cuddled close to him. “Henry? What’s happening?”
He tried to pull away, and she whined. It made his heart clench. Even teasing, he could hardly stand the thought of causing her any discomfort. He kissed her hair and untangled himself from her grasping limbs. “I think someone’s at the door.”
This seemed to make Ruth more aware. She reached blindly for the clock by his bed, squinting at it in the dim light. “It’s only six o’clock.”
Henry blinked in surprise. “What time did you get back?”
“I’m not sure. I was too worn out to care,” Ruth laughed, trailing a hand up his torso. Her skin began to faintly glow against his, and he felt the heat begin to seep into his skin. It made him shudder. He nearly leaned down to kiss her, damn their early morning visitor, but the insistent knocking began again, and he sighed.
“I should probably get that,” he said. Sitting up, he scooted off the bed and onto his feet. He stepped into yesterday’s trousers and quickly grabbed a plain white T-shirt out of his dresser drawer, yanking it over his head as he went.
The knocking started again before he’d made it down even a few steps. “I’m coming!” he called, hoping whoever was out there wasn’t waking the neighbors.
He peeked through the peephole, surprised to see Patrice. Any remaining grogginess fled and cold fear dripped into his stomach. What could Patrice possibly want so early? No good news came pounding on the door at six in the morning. Unlocking the door, he flung it open.
Henry didn’t have a moment to say anything before Patrice blurted, “Dr. Porter, you have to come now! It’s your grandfather—I can’t wake him!”
Henry’s insides turned to ice. He couldn’t have heard her right. “What?”