In Shadows (30 page)

HE FIVE OF THEM STOOD
in the center of the dirt-floored cellar, with its low-beamed ceiling and million cobwebs. Three steamer trunks with corroded metal banding rested against one wall. To Jake’s right a long workbench held numerous dusty woodworking tools and rusty cans of paint. Cramer opened each of the trunks in turn, but all of them were empty. He toyed with an old wood plane on the workbench, peering thoughtfully around.

“This is an old house with a lot of skeletons in the closet. But we can’t find the closet,” he said. “What’s in there?”

Jake glanced toward the corner where a dark panel door blended with the shadows of the granite foundation. To his surprise, Pierce was already standing in front of it, jerking at the knob. Jake just shook his head.

Cramer hurried over, trying keys until he found the one that turned the creaking lock. He shoved the door inward, waving a lantern around in the small space. The ceiling was even lower inside, and he had to lean forward to enter. There
was barely space enough for the five of them to stand. And the room itself was totally empty. Cramer frowned.

“Why lock an empty room?” asked Cramer, reaching up to feel inside the pockets where the joists rested on the stone foundation.

Nothing there.

They wandered back into the main cellar where Cramer made the same inspection of the dusty spaces between the floorboards. Nothing there, either.

But when they turned to go they noticed that Pierce was down on his knees in the shadowy, empty room, clawing at the hard earth with his bare fingers. When they all slipped back inside, Jake spotted a small exposed area of what looked like old concrete, and he dropped alongside Pierce to help scrape the clay away, leaning past the boy to read the inscription they had uncovered.

“‘Set herein by Jacob Elias Crowley, August 10, 1886.’” Jake looked at Cramer. “I guess he placed it here when they built the house.”

“Lift it up,” said Cramer, retrieving a crowbar from the workbench and returning to bury its chisel point in the clay beside the marker.

The concrete was small and easily moved by the heavy tool. Beneath the lid lay a rusting metal box containing a leather-bound book. Jake lifted it gently and blew off a thick coating of dust.

“I’ll be damned,” he said, flipping the first page. “
‘The Personal and Private Journal of Jacob Elias Crowley.
’”

“The original Jacob?” asked Cramer.

“My great-great-grandfather,” said Jake, nodding, and flipping another page.

But Cramer squinted around the dark room.

“Not down here,” he said, shaking his head.

Jake sat on the sofa in the study, the journal in his lap. The pages were thin and fragile, and the flowing script took practice to read. He flipped quickly through the beginning, mostly dedicated to the war years, finally slowing about halfway through the book.

“‘I cannot face the killing any longer. The valor of my men is not in question. Unfortunately neither is the valor of the enemy. Death lies before and behind in a vast sea of gore where the cries of the dying seem to ever dwell in the air. I feel as though I shall never smell a breeze untainted by powder smoke or blood again, that I shall never know the peace within my heart that once dwelt there. I witnessed the charge of Pickett’s soldiers as my men cut them down like wheat before a scythe, and their faces were no different from ours in life or in death. I am told that we won this engagement because of the courage of a stouthearted group of Maine men under Chamberlain. I have met Chamberlain, and I have seen the same dismal distance in his eyes that I know is now in mine. He told me he longed for the faraway green valleys of Maine where death was less than a memory.

“‘Though I have never seen them, I long for them, also.’”

Jake flipped a couple of pages.

“Does it say anything about the gem?” asked Cramer.

“‘I feel drawn to a place always before me, ever northward into the dark dank woods, where I can find peace and solace at last,’”
Jake continued.
” ‘It seems to me that the natives, these Passamaquoddy, who are so kind and not at all like the hostiles one hears so much about out West, know how to live at one with the earth. I have spent the winter with these kind people, and they have taken me in like one of their own. In fact I have taken to wife a woman known in their tongue as Weasel. She bears no resemblance that I can
see to that animal. In fact she is comely and pleasing to me. But her people do not want me to venture into the next valley where I genuinely long to go. The little that I have come to understand of their language tells me that they believe it to be a place of death. But I do not sense such. And I find that—just as I was drawn here—I am drawn there even more.

“‘It is a valley filled with vension and rabbit and good timber. I mean to build a house at the mouth and to get by farming and living off the land. Weasel will come with me, even though she seems to hold the same unreasoning fear as her people.’”

“So even the Indians were afraid of this valley,” muttered Cramer.

“‘We have built a good home, and I have begun cutting logs and have purchased a saw to be powered by the creek that runs through here. I intend to sell finished lumber as there are growing communities on both sides of the valley, and I have staked a claim to all lands that I can lay a hand to, as the locals seem as frightened of this place as the natives. That is their loss, and I mean to make the most of it. Weasel is with child.’”

Jake skipped ahead again. “This one is dated 1880. They must have been in the valley quite a few years by then.

“‘The boys are a wonder when they work and they bring great credit to their mother and me. I love them so, and the business goes well. Men are building farms in the valleys all around and all require lumber. I have managed to put enough money aside that we are now constructing a fine home on a site I discovered near the head of the stream at the far end of the valley. There is good water there. The boys have taken to a beautiful swimming hole that lies not far from the foundation of the new house.

“‘I have told no one about what I discovered there. I will
write it here and then never speak of it again. For I believe I have found the root of the heathen myths and legends that have long kept man from this place. While excavating a boulder for the foundation of the house, I discovered a giant gem that I believe is an amethyst. When I first recognized its gleaming pink light I have to admit that I was taken with greed, and I quickly uncovered the gemstone only to find that someone or something had been there long before me, for the stone had been carved to hold a much smaller, polished jewel.

“‘I realized immediately that this was a place of demon worship, for touching the smaller stone I could feel its power. I ripped it from the place of worship and I have hidden it away for all time. Never again will demons be worshiped or hold sway in this valley. And I know now that the Lord will hold them bound. This must be why I was drawn to this valley, as I have sensed a purpose to my coming here since the very first. But I fear that there is much more to this story than I am given to understand. Sometimes I feel as though the jewel were worming its way into my innermost thoughts, just as I sometimes feel as though I am being sucked into it like smoke through a pipe. I fear that I am losing my mind.’”

Jake turned the final page and frowned. “That looks like blood,” he said, flipping the book so they all could see the stain blurring the neat script.

“Crowley blood,” said Cramer, staring at Jake.

“Read it,” said Mandi.

“‘I have tried in every way that a man might to rid myself of this cursed jewel. I have thrown it in the river, only to have my sons bring it to me as a gift when they discovered it during a swim. I have placed it upon the hearth and roasted it so hotly that steel itself would have melted away, and yet it remained cool to the touch. I have hammered at it and it
breaks not. Finally, in desperation I thought of replacing it, into the stone where I had found it. But that only served to call forth something I fear even to describe herein. I removed the small jewel immediately, and I have hidden it away once more.

“‘I have done all that I can do. I have called on the God of my fathers and have preached His word in the low and dark places, and nothing avails. Anyone who comes into this valley does so at the risk of their necks now. As God is my witness I do not know if the dark beast of the woods took Weasel or whether it was an accident. My sons still search the riverbank for her body, but I know in my heart that they will never find her. My life ebbs with every moment, and I place this journal beneath the dirt in the fervent hope that none might ever find it or need to. With the last of my strength I intend to set this house ablaze and then be done with this vale of tears. But should all else fail, I have informed my eldest son of the true nature of the jewel. And should I perish, then he must see that no other ever finds it. For I fear it may do great evil in the wrong hands.’

“That’s all,” whispered Jake, closing the book. “The legend was that he drowned or disappeared, just like my father. In any case, he never set this house on fire.”

Cramer shook his head. “I don’t think that thing would let him. He probably did disappear,
just like your father
.”

“Then the jewel must have been passed from eldest son to eldest son,” said Virgil.

“And your mother found it,” said Cramer.

“That doesn’t explain why it killed her,” said Jake.

“Maybe she wasn’t supposed to have it,” said Cramer. “Albert took it, and he’s dead. José got a hold of it, and he’s dead. It was looking for you.”

“Maybe,” mused Jake, staring at Pierce.

Virgil shook his head. “If José got hold of it, Paco must have taken it to him. Last I saw
he
was still alive.”

“Maybe,” muttered Cramer. “Or maybe it was just using Paco to get itself to Jake. José being killed might have just been a coincidence.”

Jake sighed. “That’s one way of putting it.”

AS IT
J
ACOB WHO BUILT THE CHAPEL OUT BACK?”
asked Cramer, rubbing his head.

“Yeah,” said Jake. “I guess he really got religion.”

“Then I think we need to search that next.”

“Looking for what?” asked Virgil.

“I don’t know,” admitted Cramer. “The place Jacob found the jewel, maybe. That stone he took it from?”

Virgil screwed up his face. “And you’re thinking maybe he built the chapel over it?”

“Why suddenly get religion and build a church out back?” asked Cramer.

Jake noticed that Pierce had moved over to the fire and was shaking his head.

When Mandi signed to the boy he made a cutting gesture with both hands that Jake understood immediately as a no.

“He knows what you’re talking about,” said Mandi. “And he doesn’t like it.”

“I thought you said he couldn’t understand what we said,” said Virgil.

“You go,” said Mandi, to Jake and the others. “Pierce and I will stay.”

But the boy seemed to understand that, as well.

“Naaugh!” he shouted, stamping his foot. There was fear in his eyes, and he glanced at Jake pleadingly.

Jake took his hand and spelled.
What is it?

Bad place.

The chapel?

Pierce frowned. It was clear no one had told him what the little building out back was, but he obviously knew something was there.

The building in the backyard?
spelled Jake.

Pierce nodded.

Why?

It’s where the thing lives.

Jake suppressed a shudder, squeezing the boy’s shoulder.
Stay here with your mother.

Pierce grabbed Jake’s hands and clasped them tightly, but Jake slowly pulled away and shook his head to let the boy know that this was something he and Cramer had to do. Finally Pierce sagged and nodded, signaling that he was coming, too.

I think you should stay here
, spelled Jake.

I’m the only one who can fix it.

If there
was
a way to fix the thing—which Jake doubted—Pierce really might be the only one capable of doing so. After all, the jewel had apparently “fixed” him. But it still didn’t make Jake feel any better that the boy was now going to accompany him to a place Pierce seemed terrified of. In the hallway they all slipped on their rain jackets, and Jake followed Cramer out the back door. Pierce came next with Mandi and Virgil holding up the rear. Cramer swung a lantern in one hand, the key ring in the other, and as they strode out toward the lonely building they all glanced nervously at the woods.
But no bushes rustled, they could hear no whispering sounds, and Pierce gave no hint that he sensed the dark thing nearby.

The tiny covered landing was barely large enough for Jake and Cramer, so Jake held the lantern while Cramer tried the keys until he finally found the one that opened the heavy lock. The ornate door swung wide, and they hurried into the small church to allow the others to get in out of the rain. The walls were of heavy river stone, and the windows—at chest height and so narrow that a man’s head would barely fit through their frames—were built strictly for light and ornamentation, not egress or ventilation.

“Seems more like a fort than a church,” mused Cramer.

Jake shrugged. “Who knows what was going on in Jacob’s mind when he built this place.”

Cramer rested the lantern on the lectern and glanced around at the three short pews on either side of the aisle.

“Not much room for a congregation.”

“The stories I heard said Jacob preached mostly to his own family,” said Jake. “Then one of his sons became the first faith healer in this part of the country. He performed baptisms in what we call the swimming hole, and he preached to his patients here.”

“Your father ever preach?”

“Not that I remember,” said Jake, turning to Virgil.

“Not that I know of,” said Virgil.

“Well, there’s no place here to hide anything,” said Cramer, shaking his head as he glanced around the tiny chapel. “I figured there’d be a cellar, closets, something.”

“What you see is what you get, I guess,” said Jake.

Pierce slipped out of Mandi’s grasp and strode up to the lectern, lifting the lantern and setting it gently on the floor. Jake and Cramer exchanged a glance, but both stood still, waiting. Mandi rushed up beside the boy, but Pierce ignored her. He placed both hands on the old worn oak pulpit and
rocked it as though it were a stubborn fence post that needed to be replaced. Jake noticed that the lectern moved easier toward the front of the building. So did Pierce. As the boy stepped back and pulled, Jake and Cramer hurried to help him lower the heavy piece of furniture into the aisle.

“Hinged,” said Cramer, staring down into the hole in the floor.

“You were looking for a hiding place,” said Jake, turning to Mandi. “Ask Pierce how he knew it was here.”

But he was afraid he already knew.

“He says he could feel it pulling him,” said Mandi, frowning.

Cramer lifted the lantern and lowered it into the hole, peering inside. “Is that what I think it is?”

Jake leaned into the hole and discovered that rather than a cellar the opening revealed little more than a tiny crawl space. In the center of the floor a half-buried stone the size of a washtub lay exposed.

“It’s amethyst,” whispered Jake, staring at the twinkling pink crystal.

“So Jacob’s story was true,” said Cramer. “Isn’t that thing worth a fortune?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s a semiprecious stone. There’s a lot of it in the mountains. But I never heard of a piece anywhere near this large before.”

“There’s an empty hole for your jewel, just like Jacob wrote,” said Cramer.

Pierce gripped the edge of the floor and slipped past both of them into the hole. The boy’s fingers roved gently over the empty cup, his eyes delving deep into the semiopaque stone. Jake took the lantern and shone the light around the enclosed space to assure himself once more that there was nothing down there to hurt Pierce.

Thunder pealed outside and lightning lit the little chapel
for a split second. They all listened for the ominous whispering sound, but the steady rain on the roof was the only noise.

“Maybe we should try putting the jewel back, anyway,” whispered Cramer, too low for Mandi to hear.

“Pierce isn’t gonna like that idea,” said Virgil, kneeling beside them.

Jake glanced at Mandi, realizing that she
had
heard. Her eyes were full of hurt and desperation.

“He can see, Jake,” she whispered. “He can hear, and walk.”

Her words were like daggers, and the look in her eyes was worse.
You left us before. You betrayed us. Are you going to do it again?
How could he do that to her, to his own son? How could he ask the boy to give up the jewel if it had really given him everything he lacked? He couldn’t. He shook his head.

Cramer sighed. “We should at least just try it. Maybe his sight and hearing are permanent now.”

“You don’t know that,” argued Mandi.

“Mandi,” said Virgil slowly. “We ought to at least try putting it back. Pierce’s vision won’t help him if we all get ourselves killed.”

“No,” said Jake firmly, staring both the men down. “Jacob tried it, and all he accomplished was to draw that thing out into the open again.”

Mandi nudged between the men to the opening. “Get him out of there. I don’t like him being down there alone.”

“I’ll get him,” said Jake.

He signaled to get the boy’s attention before sliding down into the tight space beside him. Pierce eyed him nervously, but offered one hand.

What can you tell me now?
signed Jake.

Pierce shook his head, signing back.
This is where the jewel came from.

Jake nodded.
Do you think it belongs here?

Yes
, signed Pierce hesitantly.

Should we put it back?

Pierce shook his head vehemently this time.

Why not?
asked Jake.

Pierce’s eyes told him all he needed to know, and Jake nodded. How could he ask the boy to do that even if it
had
been a good idea? How could anyone ask him to?

Jake reached out to pat Pierce on the shoulder, and he was hurt when the boy cringed. He lowered his hand back to Pierce’s.

I’ll never ask you to do that
, he signed, shaking his head.
Never.

The boy relaxed and Jake gently lifted him out of the hole. Then he and Virgil slammed the lectern shut over the stone once more.

Cramer gave Jake a questioning look.

“There’s got to be another way,” said Jake, turning to Mandi.

Her eyes told him all he needed to know. They were going to face this all together. As a family.

“You
got any other ideas?” Jake asked Cramer as the group gathered at the door and prepared to run through the storm back to the house.

Cramer shrugged, staring at Pierce. “I’d say
he’s
gonna have to be the one to come up with answers. If anyone does.”

Jake nodded, hurrying out after Mandi and Pierce.

Virgil followed.

But when they reached the porch he stood alone in the rain, staring into the dark woods.

“You see something?” asked Jake, trying to follow his gaze.

Virgil stared a moment longer into the trees, then shook his head and followed Jake down the hall.