The Hawley Book of the Dead (23 page)

“Balls,” I told him. “What have you done with Nan?” I didn’t see any point in mincing words.

The Reverend tugged a handkerchief from his vest pocket with a flourish, and swiped at his brow. “Well, I have to say, I take umbrage at your tone. I haven’t
done
anything with your grandmother; she’s at home with a cold. She’s a fragile little lady now, and we don’t want to risk pneumonia.”

I gritted my teeth. “Fragile, my foot. Nan caught cold teaching falconry to fools in a thunderstorm. I know all about it; my mother told me.
Why aren’t you home with her, anyway, if you think she’s so fragile? Nan didn’t tell me anything about your coming today.”

“She and I spoke only this morning of the possibility of my visiting you, praying with you for the safety of your girls.”

“At the moment, praying isn’t high on my list of things to do. But since you’re here you may as well sit down. I suppose you’d like some coffee.”

“Well, now, that would be most welcome.”

Mrs. Pike had undoubtedly been skulking behind the pantry door, for she bustled in then, greeted the Reverend, and brought out a freshly made cake. She did a double take when she saw Falcon Eddy, but she didn’t comment on his presence. I could see I’d been set up. She poured the Reverend’s cup of coffee, and I noticed she didn’t ask before she poured cream and spooned sugar. Just the way he liked it. I remembered she was a denizen of the Hawley Baptist Church, and that the Reverend sometimes took over when their preacher went on vacation. So Mrs. Pike had some truck with him. She cut two enormous slabs of cake. Chocolate with creamy frosting, the Reverend’s favorite, I surmised. She set plates down before the Reverend and me, giving Eddy a few nods toward the door as she did so. Eddy did not budge. Mrs. Pike huffed disapprovingly, but decided there was nothing further she could do to oust the intruder, and sidled toward the door.

“Thank you kindly, Jerusha,” the Reverend called after her. I nearly spilled coffee down my shirt. I had no idea Mrs. Pike’s first name was anything but what I’d written on her checks: plain Jeri Pike.

The Reverend looked longingly at the cake, but before he wielded his fork, he told me, “Actually, I’m here for another reason altogether. Although, of course, I was hoping to pray with you as well.” He skewed his eyes at Eddy. “Perhaps we could have some privacy?” Eddy stayed where he was, humming a little tune under his breath, cleaning his fingernails with a knife.

“I don’t think that’s really necessary.” I didn’t relish a private audience with the Reverend. “Reverend Steel, this is Falcon Eddy. I have no idea what his last name is, but he claims Nan sent him.” The Reverend rolled his eyes, and Falcon Eddy looked up from his grooming to glare at the tiny
man. “Although it seems as if you two are already acquainted. Look, I didn’t get much sleep, and I’m too cranky for small talk, so let’s cut to the chase. Does Nan even know you’re here?” I asked the Reverend.

“Not only does she know. She sent me.” He dug into his cake then, took a big mouthful, and chewed complacently.

“All right. I’ll take the bait. Why did she send you?”

He paused to wipe icing from his lips before answering. “Some things are best left alone, I find. But if they make an appearance, they must be dealt with.”

“Stop talking in riddles.”

“You made a discovery last night. Unearthed something—an object that, well, shall we say, had a certain
impact
.”

“You mean the old book I found? How did you know about that?”

He took a sharp breath, looked pained. “My dear, I really must insist this … man … leave us.”

“Okay, okay. Eddy, it’s all right.”

He rose slowly, picked up his coffee cup. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

As soon as Falcon Eddy closed the door, I pounced on the Reverend. “What about the book? What do you know about it? How did you know I found it?”

“All your questions will be answered in due course.” He paused to take another bite. He chewed wolfishly, swallowed, then told me, “The Book belonged at one time to your grandmother. She still has a … connection to it.” He said the word
book
as if it should have quotation marks around it.

“Why haven’t I ever heard about this book, if it’s so special?”

His head swiveled, reminding me of a snake’s. “Shhh! It’s not something we shout about!”

“ ‘We,’ Kemosabe? Since when are
you
privy to our family secrets?”

“Since a very long time ago indeed. So don’t get huffy. Your grandmother wishes to speak to you. Not by phone. Come to us for tea today at four. That’s my message to you. And don’t use the Book until then. It’s not just any book. It’s
the
Book.”

Had the Reverend changed? His skin seemed almost translucent. That jogged some faint fragment of memory, but it again eluded me. The next moment he was just a tiny, wizened, nearly albino man again.

“Well, you don’t have to worry. I could have sworn it had writing in it last night, but now it’s blank.”

“You can’t just open it up and read it willy-nilly, dear. You can’t command the Book. It commands you.” He smiled infuriatingly. Then he took another bite of cake. “As Jesus is our Savior, this is divine.”

“Since you know so much about our family, you must know that the first Revelation settled here in Hawley Five Corners. Was the book hers, originally? Is that how it got here?”

He flashed me a quick look, then lifted his fork again.

“It’s amazing to me that you can be interested in peripheral matters when your daughters are at risk. And it hasn’t been long since your husband’s unfortunate accident. Admirable, really. You must be an exceptionally strong woman. The strength of Judith.”

I closed my eyes. A memory flashed: Grace and Fai as babies, clean and fresh in sprig-patterned onesies, their skin soft as flower petals, sleeping on our bed, nestled like peas. Then Caleigh, just days ago, digging in the dirt, helping me plant tulip bulbs, her grin wide as she patted the damp earth.

“I have my reasons for being interested,” I told him. “You’re just trying to distract me with your accusations. You know more, but you won’t say. And
everything
I do right now is to keep my daughters safe.”

“The best way is to trust in the Lord,” the Reverend let me know. “When we’re done with Mrs. Pike’s excellent cake, perhaps you’ll pray with me.”

“Perhaps. But the book, Reverend. Did Nan leave it here, hide it here for some reason?”

“You
are
persistent, Revelation. I can’t tell you anything more about the Book. I’m merely the messenger.” The Reverend dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. When he put the napkin down, he reached for my hand. I expected him to begin praying over me, and bit back more harsh words. But what he said next wasn’t a prayer. “My dear, some things should not be dredged up again. Follow a righteous path, for your own sake
and that of your beautiful girls.” His pink eyes were locked on me. Again he reminded me of a snake. I certainly felt like a small animal transfixed.

He paused, licked his thin pink lips. “I would hate to think that it may have started again.” It was the same thing Hank had said the night before. Almost the same words.

“What? What do you think has started again?” But he just shook his head, wincing as if he was in pain. He took another gulp of coffee. He smiled at me, stood, and took up his hat.

“Well, this was truly lovely. But now, I must go. Parish duties call.” He threw open the door, crashing into Falcon Eddy in his haste. He leapt back, spun toward me again. “Don’t forget. Tea. Four o’clock.”

Falcon Eddy refused a shower and still smelled of hawk guano when we found Nathan and the girls clustered around a small table in the parlor. Fai had discovered a Ouija board on a shelf in her closet, and they’d all become obsessed with it. I didn’t know how it counted as a learning experience, but knowing Nathan, he was probably feeding them tidbits about Henry and William James and how their belief in ghosts and spirits informed their writing.

“This is Falcon Eddy,” I told them. “He’s … he’s a friend of Nan’s who will be staying with us for a while. To help keep us safe.”

“Cool.” Fai was the first to look up from the planchette. For all her gentleness, she was shrewd—would size people up with her wide blue eyes without their suspecting. “Where are your birds?” she asked him. “Although I
could
just ask the board.”

“Home where they belong, I hope. My brothers are taking care of the buggers.”

I winced.

“Hey, you talk like our dad,” Caleigh observed. “Are you from England?” She sounded so hopeful, wistful for her father. My heart lurched.
“From the isles, a longish time back.”

“Which isles?” Grace wanted to know.

“Why, the only isles worth being from. The Scilly Isles.”

Grace narrowed her eyes. “Islands can’t be silly,” she declared.

I groaned. “I guess it’s time for a geography lesson.” I’d spoken before I thought, and a blush suffused Grace’s face, the white skin beneath her freckles crimsoned. Almost proud of her ignorance sometimes, at other times she could be unexpectedly sensitive. I felt like the worst mother in the world. I placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

The planchette began to fly over the Ouija board from letter to letter:
S-C-I-L-L-Y
. “I’m not moving it!” Fai shrieked, staring at her fingers perched on the speeding planchette. “I
swear
. This thing is
so cool
!”

Grace’s blush deepened. “So there’s a ‘C’ in it. Big deal,” she snapped.

“Och, girlie,” said Falcon Eddy. “Many and many make that same mistake! Why, even the queen of England misspells the name, I know that for a fact.”

They all laughed, Falcon Eddy the loudest.

I was starting to like him.

“You’re nervous as a cat,” Mrs. Pike remarked later as she was sweeping under my feet in the kitchen. I’d had it out with Mrs. Pike, instructing her never to open the gate, for anyone, even her friend the Reverend. Neither of us was happy with the other.

“I’m just fine. No thanks to you,” I grumbled. She put down her broom and left me to my worries. She was right, though. I
was
nervous after both Eddy and the Reverend breached our gates. My nerves were too jangly to work in my office. I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop, so I could be within hailing distance of the girls.

Just as I was powering up, Fai came in, poured herself a glass of juice, and sat down next to me at the table.

“I’m surprised you left your planchette.”

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Mmmm. Well, it told me something weird.”

“What did it tell you, honey?” I didn’t know what to say about Ouija boards. I remember Jolon and I scaring ourselves with one, one particular
summer. Then we lost interest; it was relegated to the basement and never seen again. But while we were caught up with it, we believed in it completely.

“I asked it when we’d get our powers, Grace and me.”

“So did it tell you that you never would? You look so serious.”

Her blue eyes scanned me. “
Mom
. That’s because I
am
serious. The Ouija board said
two
dates. First it said 2011. And that can’t be right. That was two years ago! Then it said 2016.”

“Maybe it was confused. Maybe 2011 was the answer to a different question.”

She thought for a minute, then said, “Okay. That makes sense.” But she remained pensive.

“Something’s still troubling you, honey. Tell me.”

“It’s too long to wait!” Fai burst out. “We’ll be seventeen in 2015! We’ll be
old
.”

I touched her face, tried to smooth the furrows from her forehead. “You know you can’t control that. The powers just come when they come. Grand didn’t get hers until she was around that age. It’s all right.”

She took my hand, whispered, “But it’s not. We’re in danger, all of us. I want to help! I want to
do
something!” Tears filled her eyes, brimmed, and dropped down to her freckled cheeks.

“Oh, honey!” I held her to me, stroked her thin back. “Was it what I said about Falcon Eddy? Having him here is just a … a precaution Nan thought of. It doesn’t mean we think there’s—”

“It’s not
that
!” Fai sobbed.

What was it then? I’d kept the Fetch’s e-mail from the girls, but had Fai overheard something, guessed something? Even if not, she was the most intuitive of anyone in the family. Maybe she’d sensed my distress, even though I’d tried to bury it when I was with them. Then I thought of my conversation with Hank at Pizza Earl’s. Maybe she
had
overheard us, although she seemed involved with the jukebox as much as Grace and Caleigh.

“Did you hear anything that upset you, Fai?”

She sniffled, wiped her face on my shirt. “No, Mom.” She raised her
face. Her eyes were red from crying, but clear of any terrible knowledge. “I just want to help, in case something … in case the Fetch finds us.”

“Sweetheart, it’s going to be all right. We haven’t heard a peep from him since we came here. He’s probably given up.” I smiled, though I knew I was lying through my teeth.

“Now, get back to your game. And remember, it
is
a game. No piece of plastic can tell you your future.”

She kissed my cheek, even though I knew she thought she was too grown up for such demonstrations. “Thanks, Mom.” So she left me to my work, and my musing.

I had begun a script for one of our colleagues, Setekh the Magnificent, which at that point I called
Rosabelle, Believe
. It was a fanciful re-creation of a Houdini séance, with Setekh playing Houdini come back from the dead. It took advantage of Setekh’s innate creepiness, so it wasn’t really a far cry from my haunted-New-England-themed shows like
The Devil’s Dance
, or even
Mascherari
, the intricate Venetian Carnevale show, our last.

But I knew
Rosabelle
was far from my best work. It didn’t help that although I’d seen him around for years, I never liked Setekh. He made me uneasy. He’d been touring in Europe at the time of Jeremy’s death, and well after. I was glad he wasn’t there to perform at the memorial show. I kept reminding myself that I didn’t have to like him to write for him.