Where Darkness Dwells (28 page)

The color left his face. Light-headedness washed over him. He hurried down the stairs, careful not to take in the imposing height, for then he would surely faint.

He reached the wooded ground, the children close on his heels. They passed Arlen as he returned from wherever he had cleaned up. His forehead and neck were still coal-black, but the skin above his scraggly beard was white, as were his hands. They were so white they appeared to have never touched sunlight.

"Bye bye," Arlen said. He seemed happy to have his mother to himself.

21.

They were quiet on the way home, each lost in their own thoughts. Most certain of the quickest route, Jacob had taken the lead. Ellie stayed by Cooper's side.

Cooper had accompanied the kids to Greta's house for one and only one reason. He feared for their safety. He never believed the story about Jimmy Fowler running off to the army, or that an animal had gored Ellie's brother to death. The pieces of the puzzle didn't fit that way. No, something terrible had happened, but he didn't know exactly what. He couldn't let the kids go off on their own with what his instincts were telling him.

He never expected to hear such things. Greta had caught him off guard, and before he could react, he felt exposed, verbally lashed. But that's not what happened. Not really. Upon reflection, the sting of her words softened. When the sting was entirely gone, he realized she hadn't attacked him at all. Greta had been right about everything she had said about his past. The sting was from the vulnerability he felt with a stranger knowing his secret.

Judging the children's reaction, they hadn't overheard the conversation. That was a relief. He didn't want to admit who he was,
what
he was. The only trouble he'd ever suffered over his appearance was when he had sprouted tall at thirteen, without the accompanying weight gain. For two years he had been scrawny and sickly looking. He eventually leveled off after the family doctor instructed his mom to make sure he got extra milk and butter in his diet. Those two years had been bad enough; he couldn't imagine the reactions and ridicule if the secret of his lineage became public knowledge.

His secret. How could Greta have known? No one knew but his own parents. His grandmother had lived at their town home until cancer sent her to her grave. Despite increasing doses of laudanum, pain taxed her frail body every minute of those three months. Little could be done for her. Cooper's mother lovingly attended to her needs during the day when he and his father were at work. At night, his father would hold vigil over her as she rapidly deteriorated, oftentimes reading the bible to her in his gruff voice. From his bedroom door, Cooper would listen for when his father took to his own bed, usually after midnight, and then he would go to Velma Fortune's bedside. He would hold her hand as they talked quietly.

"Arlen's a bastard," Jacob said matter-of-factly as they walked. He pulled back next to Cooper and Ellie. The boy didn't seem as angry after talking to Greta.

"Jacob, don't talk like that," Ellie said.

"But he is. I heard it from Jimmy. A shyster named Rubell Polk, he came to town selling potions and remedies from a beat up suitcase. He swept old Greta off her feet, and then snuck off not long after. She's never hidden it, neither."

Cooper nodded, choosing to ignore his gossip bait. "That was a brave thing for an unmarried woman to do."

"People think Arlen's a nitwit because he's a bastard."

"Jacob, please."

"I'm not making it up, Ellie. You've heard it yourself."

"Doesn't mean you gotta go off talking like that."

"Just making conversation."

They continued on in silence. After awhile Jacob's eyes darkened. Cooper could only guess where the boy's thoughts lingered. He had been through a lot lately.

They covered the next half-mile cutting across a sorghum cane field. The sun had dried the grass, all except for the twining roots. Cooper drifted back to his own thoughts. Velma Fortune's dying words haunted him:

Find yourself, child. Find out who you ought to be
.

Since meeting his grandmother in his family's parlor, Cooper had been confused and conflicted. Before meeting Velma, he'd thought he knew his place in the world, but that had all changed. She'd sensed his confusion, though he'd never spoken of it. Then she used her final words in an attempt to comfort him. He couldn't imagine a more selfless gift.

In her short time at their home, they had grown close. Velma always had a story to tell or a small nugget of wisdom to pass on. His only wish would have been to meet her sooner.

After a solemn closed casket wake, they buried Velma in the family cemetery. By the end of that day, eager to be on his way, Cooper traded his funeral garb for traveling clothes. His preparations accelerated when Velma's condition took a turn for the worse. Everyone had known the end was near, but no one had spoken about it. She smiled weakly, revealing more than words ever could. The reunion of her family had given her closure.

The library board had been shocked when he announced his intentions of leaving. Without his asking, they had promised to hold a position for him, if he were ever inclined to return. Velma Fortune's grave was still fresh when he took to the road.

Jacob and Ellie seemed in more of a hurry than Cooper, so the way home went quickly. They left the sorghum field and returned to Teetering Road for the last stretch home. As they approached the Fowler's driveway, he considered what he had said to Greta, how he would tell Jane Fowler how Greta had plied the kids' innocence and insecurity with her lies. But he decided to hold his tongue. Telling Jane would undoubtedly send her over to Greta's house, and in the end, potentially expose his past. He had another reason for not telling Jane: maybe Greta hadn't fabricated a single thread to her story. With how quickly she had convinced Cooper of her abilities--and she had turned his disbelief around as easily as spinning a top--he couldn't deny the possibility. Maybe Jimmy
was
close by.

"Take care, Coop," Ellie said as they reached the driveway.

He waved to her and exchanged a nod of amiable acceptance with Jacob. When the front door closed behind them, he turned to walk to his new home. Differing thoughts fought for his complete attention:

His grandmother's dying words. The image of the Blankenships spiraling away, consumed in darkness. Wondering about his own motives for buying their abandoned home, and if they were even his motives to begin with. Most of all, he wondered about the Greta's insistence that he would help solve the mystery of Jimmy's disappearance.

Part III

1.

Jacob's mother didn't allow him to say a word before she started in on him. Her venom left him temporarily speechless.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do Jacob Mitchell Fowler!" Still dressed in her funeral clothes from hours earlier, she bolted from her kitchen chair, her eyes puffy and red. She was angry. Angrier than he had ever seen.

He stammered, searching for his voice. Ellie cringed behind him. He hadn't noticed Louise Bradshaw right away, but now he saw her sitting at the kitchen table and rubbing her expanding belly. As his mom tore into him, Louise remained seated and quiet.

"Where were you two? Do you have any sense at all, running off like that? Did you ever think how scared I'd be?"

"But, Mom--"

Her slap silenced him.

His hand went to his stinging cheek. His mom's expression immediately drained. She'd never struck him before. Never once in all the times he had angered her.

"Oh, Jacob, I'm so sorry. I… I thought you were gone, too, like Jimmy. I couldn't stand the thought of not having my sons."

He still rubbed his cheek, smarting more from bewilderment than pain. His mom pulled him into a hug, and he could feel her trembling against him. She felt so fragile. While she had always seemed made of granite, her bones were now balsa wood.

"Mom, I'm sorry. We won't run off again. I wasn't thinking."

Ellie stepped forward to face his mom. "We went to Greta's."

"You did what?"

"We went to her house," Jacob said, then felt the need to explain. "We went to see if Greta knew anything about our brothers."

"She said Jimmy's close, Miss Fowler. Maybe even in town somewhere. He's somewhere close, and he wants to come home."

Louise flinched at hearing Jimmy's name. She still didn't speak, but her attention seemed more acutely focused. Her hair typically fell across her shoulders in unruly waves; now it was pulled back behind her ears. It made her brown eyes more prominent and stark.

"Of course. I should have known." His mom brushed one of Ellie's blonde braids behind her shoulder. Her emotions switched yet again, this time shifting from anger to understanding. Jacob was confused. "Are you two hungry? I can whip something up. Supper won't be for a couple hours still, but I don't mind."

"Mom, it's true. What Greta said. Jimmy's still here. Somewhere. We need to find him."

"That's not possible."

Jacob tried to decipher the meaning of his mom's words. He could only come to one conclusion. Seeing Louise sitting weepy-eyed at their kitchen table, seeing how sad, how utterly exhausted his mom was, it could only mean one thing: someone had discovered his brother's body.

"Sheriff Bergman was over not more than an hour ago with the news. Which reminds me, I'm going to have to run to town to let him know you two are back and okay."

Ellie caught his attention as she shifted from one foot to the other. Sympathy gleamed in her deep blue eyes. He could easily read her thoughts; she knew why Bergman had come, she'd been through this before. Jacob listened to his mom, but wanted to put a break on the words coming from her mouth. As long as he didn't hear the words, then they couldn't be true. His brother wasn't dead. Couldn't possibly be.

"The sheriff just heard back from Peoria. The recruiting office has a record of Jimmy signing up two days ago. Do you know what this means, Jacob? Your brother is safe. He's safe as long as he's not sent somewhere to war, but at least we know he's alive. I'm going to take a strap to that boy, just as soon as I get a chance, I'm going to whip that boy raw. Running off like that, running off scared and spineless. Just like his father."

His mom hugged him again, and her strength had returned. Her balsa wood bones were instantly granite. She squeezed so hard it felt like she would break his ribs. He didn't think she would ever let go, but when she did, he turned and noticed fresh tears on Louise's face. Looking at Ellie, he was certain she mirrored his expression: shock, dismay, disbelief.

"I'm glad to see you both home safe, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm angry with you or that what you did was wrong. You're both grounded from leaving the yard until I decide otherwise. Until you prove you've learned some sense.

"So can I get you something to eat, or can you wait until supper?"

2.

Cooper had yet to set up bedding in any of the upstairs bedrooms. Instead, as the sun dipped below the trees, he built a nest of blankets in the entryway. He felt more comfortable here, resting in clear view of both the front door and the pipe organ in the back room. He might have bought the house, but he still felt like a stranger within its walls. Watching the shifting moonlight toying with the shadows on the ceiling, he continued to parse Greta's words from earlier today:

There's an unpleasant undercurrent in this town. It will pull at you unexpectedly, dragging you under its surface.

A mysterious and corrupt member of his new community was holding a boy against his will. For some reason, this thought didn't startle him. He knew he should react differently. With anxiety maybe, with alarm, definitely.

But he didn't.

Those other matters didn't reach him within the security of his new home. Those petty squabbles, those lost little boys of no consequence to his own life--nothing could reach him here. He closed his eyes, his mind reeling with fatigue.

He heard his own voice from far away, as if he held a paper cone pressed to his ear:

I think you should be ashamed for what you're doing to those kids… how can you look at yourself in the mirror?