House Arrest (23 page)

34 ~ Sam

When Emily left for Pippa’s, Sam sat down in her chair. He had to figure out a logical plan of action. He’d better not screw up this time.

Sam knew Forest Park. High school summers he worked on the park crew, clearing brush and cutting trees marked by the parks management guys from Boston. He had a vague memory of planting rhododendron bushes. The superintendent insisted they wouldn’t survive on that cold, windy hillside, but the lady with the bucks argued that the acid soil from the pine needles was perfect. He could easily hack into the park management network. He could find the solstice ritual site.

What good was that? Even if he knew where the ceremony would take place, he had no clue what Pippa and Emily were planning, or how he could help them avoid a disaster.

He didn’t realize Zoe had stopped crying until Anna returned to the kitchen.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” she said. “Where’s Emily?”

“She said to tell you she was going out.”

“Out where?”

“To see Pippa.”

Anna sat down and faced Sam across the table. “What’s going on?”

He stood up. “She didn’t say. She told me to mind my own business, just like you did half an hour ago. So, I’m going home to do that.”

As he closed the kitchen door behind him, Sam glanced at Anna. Her back was taut with worry.

Outside, Sam leaned on the porch railing. The night was clear. Orion balanced on the tips of the frozen branches of the swamp maple tree in the back yard.

He hated to keep secrets from Anna, but she was suspicious already. Anna was a black and white kind of person. Something was right, or it was wrong. Funny, Sam didn’t remember her being that way when they were first together. Things changed when she found out about Zoe’s spine. She wouldn’t listen when he tried to say how scared he was, how full of self-doubt. Maybe being tough went with that new territory, where he hadn’t been able to follow her. Anna might feel compelled to call the cops, or the probation officer, that Nan woman Emily mentioned. He couldn’t take that chance.

He climbed the wooden stairs to his apartment. He had to handle this alone. He didn’t consider himself a brave guy. But Emily was family.

35 ~ Pippa

Francie said it always snowed on December 21, but the softening of the backyard contours was still a surprise. Pippa stood at the kitchen door watching the snowflakes ease the bleak winter shapes, then returned to the dining room table, to the strings of cranberries and small clay beads stamped with Isis symbols. She was grateful for the last-minute tasks. Maybe everyone else was thinking about the anniversary too, and that was why they were so cross. Francie strode around the house, telling everyone what to do, until even Jeremy snapped at her. “Who made you boss of the world?”

Liz just pursed her lips at Pippa, said the ceremony wouldn’t work without a pregnant woman. Marshall said he had been doing his best to get Francie pregnant. Francie said maybe his best wasn’t good enough.

Pippa had to leave the room then, her mouth bursting with secrets she had promised Emily not to tell. In her mind, she rehearsed the steps of the Mother Dance that she had studied with Adele and practiced every day, alone in the attic. She felt worst about not being truthful with Jeremy and Timothy, who hovered around her all evening.

“I wish you could come, Pippa.” Timothy buried his face in her neck.

“We’ll tell you all about it,” Jeremy promised.

Pippa hugged them both. “I’ll be okay. Nothing bad will happen this year.”

Francie set her armful of heavy white cotton robes down on the dining room table, so she could hug Pippa too. “I’m sorry you have to stay home. Tonight’s got to be the worst night for you to be alone. I wish there were some way.” She paused, and Pippa thought she caught an edge of a smile. Did Francie suspect something?

“I’ll be all right,” Pippa said. “Make my apologies to Isis.”

Francie leaned back and stared at Pippa, and Pippa felt her face flushing. Maybe she’d better act more upset. “Please. I can’t talk about it.”

At nine p.m., Pippa helped load the van—tarps and sleeping bags and extra blankets, the Yule log and candles and jugs. Last the family, dressed in long white robes over fleece pants and extra wool socks and insulated boots and thermal underwear. Pippa waved at the twins in the back window of the van until the red taillights disappeared.

When they were finally gone, Pippa stood in front of the painting.

“I won’t let you down.” She spoke out loud, her voice sounding silly in the empty house. “I’m not so sure what I think about you, but I’ll be there tonight.”

Pippa showered. She left her skin bare under the ankle strap so the hives would start to grow. She dressed carefully in warm layers of black clothes. When Emily knocked at the front door, Pippa was ready.

“Are you dressed really warmly?” Emily asked. “Lots of layers?”

“Yup, and I have the thermos of hot tea and the extra sock for later. And, I’m growing a good crop of hives.” She pulled up the leg of her sweatpants, slipped down the thick wool sock, lifted the thermal long johns and stuck her foot out for Emily’s inspection. “Lookie here.”

Emily squatted to examine Pippa’s ankle. “Pretty impressive. Not itching too badly?”

“Nothing I can’t stand. What next?”

“Next, we call Nan’s office. To establish the time and that we’re still at your house. To set up your alibi.”

Our alibi, Pippa thought, listening to Emily leave her name on Nan’s voicemail.

“It’s 10:30,” Emily said into the phone. “Pippa Glenning called me. Her ankle is swollen and splotchy and itching under the monitor. I’ve been worried about her rash, so I came over to check.”

Pippa thought Emily’s voice sounded convincingly nervous and tense.

“The hives are spreading up her leg. It looks like latex allergy. This could become a systemic reaction, possibly anaphylaxis. I’m taking her to the E.R. for evaluation. She might need a shot of epinephrine.”

Pippa watched how Emily’s thin neck curved into the telephone receiver, how her voice strained for authority. She must hate lying about medical stuff. What would happen if they got caught? She would probably lose her job. Did Emily see tonight as part of her job, or outside of it?

Maybe Emily’s decision had something to do with her father, who she wouldn’t talk about, who didn’t get any justice. Well, Pippa’s own father probably didn’t get what he deserved, either. She wondered what was happening at the farm in Georgia, how her Ma was doing. She wondered if she would have the courage to do what Emily was doing right now. To take such a massive chance, for someone who wasn’t even related.

“I’ll check in later.” Emily’s voice was winding down. “And let you know what happens at the E.R.”

Pippa felt the fluttering in her belly. She slipped her hand under her sweatshirt and caressed her belly through the heavy material of her warm layers. I’m here, little fellow. She would do anything to protect this baby. But she’d felt that way about Abby too. Had she been irresponsible, to bring Abby to the Solstice last year, even when that’s what mothers were expected to do in her family? A whole year had passed, and she still didn’t quite know the answer to that question. But she knew that she had failed Abby.

“You okay?” Emily stood in the arched doorway.

“Yeah. What now?”

“The emergency room.”

36 ~ Gina

Four days until Christmas, and she was stuck with late duty. If she had the time and energy, Gina thought, she would file a grievance about Marge’s racism skewing the staffing schedule. But tonight all she wanted to do was finish her charting, check voicemail one last time for anything that couldn’t wait for morning, and connect the phones to the night answering service. She still had to stop by the party store. Hopefully some red and green plates and napkins were left.

No balloons. She chuckled. Zoe had made that very clear on the telephone last week when Gina called to remind Emily about her Christmas Eve party.

“All of you,” Gina had said. “Sam too.”

Emily had sounded vague. “We’ll try,” she promised. “There’s other stuff going on.”

Chanukah was already over, so what conflicting celebrations could Emily have?

Oh. Solstice.

The slam of the office door made Gina jump. What was the boss doing here on a holiday? Marge stopped short when she noticed Gina at her desk.

“Is anything wrong?” Marge asked.

“I’m just finishing up. Then I’ll put the phones on service and go home.”

“Go ahead,” Marge said. “I have to make a couple of calls, so I’ll deal with the phones. The work will still be here in the morning.”

Gina logged off her computer, and stood up. “Thanks.”

“One thing before you go. You and Emily Klein are friends, right?”

“Yes.”

“Is everything okay with her? She’s seemed distracted lately. That cult case, you know the frozen babies, is it going okay?”

Terrific. Gina picked a bit of fluff off her burgundy sweater. If Marge asks me a direct question, am I ready to lie for Emily?

Marge didn’t seem to notice that Gina didn’t answer. “It’s not just her. What’s going on with staff here? Did you know Andy is working per diem in the E.R.?” Marge shook her head. “He’s out of here. He knows the rule about moonlighting. It’s damn hard to find male nurses to work home care. And the accreditation folks are big this year on staff diversity. You wouldn’t believe what those bandits charge me to put us through bureaucratic hell and then point out our weaknesses and failings.”

Gina checked her watch. She didn’t want to hear this stuff. Diversity, was that the reason Marge didn’t fire Emily? She needed the Jew, along with the black nurse and the guy, to round out her staff profile?

“So, what about Emily and the Glenning woman? Any problems?”

Do I cover for my friend, or cover my butt? Gina pursed her lips, as if she was thinking hard about Marge’s question.

“I’m not trying to make trouble for her,” Marge said. “I’m no ogre. You know, I had highfalutin principles too, once upon a time before I owned a business. You wouldn’t believe how pitiful the new insurance reimbursements are, and nine, ten months late. This agency is barely surviving.” She sighed loudly. “But, that’s not your concern, is it?”

Damn straight, Gina thought, scooping up her pocketbook. “Not to worry,” she told Marge. “Emily’s okay. And she says that Pippa Glenning’s pregnancy is going nicely. No problem.”

37 ~ Sam

All solstice evening, Sam kept an ear attuned for the sound of Emily’s car. When he heard the engine start, cough and miss, then finally catch, he scooted to the window and watched her pull away from the curb. He had been expecting this. Over the past few days, he had tried out several scenarios in his head. Various ways to monitor whatever scheme Emily and Pippa had dreamed up, so he could be available as their back up. He still didn’t have a plan.

If only he had the guts to hack into the house arrest system, or tackle the electricity grid. He still didn’t think it would work, but at least then he would be working with Emily and Pippa and not be left behind. He might not have the nerve to do what Emily asked, to break the law so openly, but he wasn’t going to let them down. Even if Emily said she didn’t want his help.

Grabbing his jacket, warm gloves, and car keys, he headed downstairs. He stood outside Anna’s door, torn about what to do. She would worry, but Emily might need them all before the night was over.

Anna answered his knock.

“Where did Emily go?” he asked.

“Out for milk. Why?”

“At ten p.m.? On the solstice?”

Anna stepped back. “You don’t think . . . ?”

“I do. I’m going to find her,” he said. “Please don’t do anything. I wanted you to know. I’ll call later.”

Driving towards the park, Sam waffled about which park entrance gave better access to the rhododendron grove. He had located it on the maintenance website, but there was no easy way to get there. The main gate was closer, but it was locked at dark, and his truck would be conspicuous so close to Sumner Ave and the park police station. The archway entrance was farther, but parking on a residential street was definitely safer. In either case, it wasn’t going to be easy to find the place in the dark, and it was snowing again. He parked, then reached across the cab to the glove compartment for a flashlight. The bulb lit up. A good omen.

Zipping his jacket, Sam wrapped a wool scarf around his head and neck and pulled on his gloves. He shoved the flashlight into his pocket, then walked under the arch and turned to the left. Was it the cold, the storm, the night, that made him feel so awake and alive? Maybe he’d been spending too much time at the computer.

Pippa’s group must have taken this path, but there were no footprints. The snow must have covered them up already. When the path ended at a wall of rhododendron, he was stymied. He walked up and down along the dense barrier before his hands found the narrow corridor sliced into the thick branches. He sidestepped into the tight passage. Sharp branches grabbed his scarf, pulled at his mustache.

When he emerged on the other side of the hedge, Sam heard chanting. Hugging the shadows at the edge of the path, he reached a spot where he could see down into a gully, to a circle of stones each illuminated with a candle. In the center, bonfire flames rose into the sky. White robed shapes whirled around it, singing or chanting. He couldn’t make out the words. Hesitating, he inched down the hill, staying away from the light. How would the cult members react to seeing a strange man walking into their ceremony? A small clearing opened in the trees to his left, and he stepped back into it, to watch.

Pippa and Emily weren’t there. Sam recognized the blond woman from the hearing, and the big guy with the bandanna. There were two other women. A smaller group than he expected. Just the few of them, dancing in a circle, seemed kind of pathetic. On a log by the fire, two boys sat wrapped in a white blanket. Their backs were toward him, so he couldn’t see their faces. What did all this mumbo jumbo mean to them?

A rapid crunching of footsteps along the frozen path behind him broke into the smooth rhythm of the singing. Sam froze for a moment, then hunched back further into his hiding place. A tall figure burst through the thicket and down the steep slope into the circle, holding his thick, bare arms in a victory V above his head.

“Tian,” the dancers shouted, enveloping the man in spinning white fabric. “Tian’s here.”

Sam recognized him from the courtroom. How did he get out of jail? Sam soon forgot to speculate, because Tian transformed the scene. He stood in the center of the circle of white robes. He bowed to each person in turn, motioned the boys into the group. Then he started chanting. Sam still couldn’t make out the words, but the lyrics and music repeated. With each repetition, another person joined in the song, so the volume ratcheted up and the harmony too. Tian gestured exuberant circles in the air and they started dancing. The singing grew louder and the dancing intensified—faster and harder, whirling and spinning. A pottery jug was passed from person to person, each one balancing it with the same shrug of the shoulder, then pressing lips to the mouth of the jug and drinking deeply.

The boys stepped back from the fire again and sat on a log directly in front of Sam’s hiding place. They leaned against each other in the shadows thrown by the dancing and the flames. They didn’t look that much older than Zoe. Sam wondered if they would fall asleep there. The dancing grew wilder and the white robes of the dancers merged with the swirling snow into a maelstrom of motion. Tian’s voice was thunderous and deep. He was the only dancer without a white robe. When he moved onto the large flat stone near the bonfire, the dancers all turned to watch him.

“Isis.” His voice boomed into the white-swirled treetops. “Isis, your people are here to honor you. Bring back the sun. Bring us the light and the spring.” Snow crowned his thick hair.

Sam had never seen anything like him. The strength and power of this guy, like he ruled the trees as well as the people who whirled and danced around him. Tian stopped singing for a long moment while he pulled the blond woman onto the flat stone, kissed her, and held her pressed against his body as he continued the song.

Wait a minute. Tian was supposed to be Pippa’s guy. Did Emily know about this?

Sam couldn’t stop watching. He had never seen maleness revealed so raw, the unadorned power of being in charge. He was fascinated and repulsed, at the same time.

More noises came from the woods. Voices. Fragments of sentences echoed back and forth among trees and snow, louder and closer. Thumping footsteps, many of them, blasting along the path, reverberating against the dense wall of bushes. This time several shapes exploded through the rhododendron bushes and down the hill. Flashlight beams crisscrossed the trees, ignited the snow.

A bullhorn blared. “Police. Police.”

And loud voices. “Stand still. Hands up.”

“Police. Do not run. Hold it there.”

“We’re armed, you fuckers. Stand still.”

The blond woman turned her back on the invasion and stepped away from the center of the circle. She looked straight at the two boys, sitting beyond the bright lights. She extended both arms, palms outward, telling them to stay put. The woman must be their mother. She must be terrified for them.

Sam rubbed his mustache, stiff with ice. The last thing he wanted was to be implicated in this mess. But this was Pippa’s family. These kids were not much older than Zoe. They were almost Pippa’s sons. Sam stepped out of the shadows until he was just behind the boys. How could he reassure their mother that he would keep her sons safe? He placed one hand lightly on each boy’s head, on their curls crisp with snow.

“I’m Sam,” he whispered. “I’ll take your boys to Pippa.”

The blond woman stepped out of the lighted circle and stared at him. Then she nodded, slightly. She rubbed her finger along her upper lip, then mimed twirling an imaginary mustache. She looked back at the boys and pointed into the woods, then spun around to face the scuffle around the circle.

The boys stood up together, still draped in their blanket. With Sam, they melted back, away from the circle of flames, safely into the deep shadow of Sam’s dark alcove. The three of them watched the activity in the circle. It could have been a well-choreographed ballet war scene. The army of dark dancers leapt into the swirling fake snow and vanquished the white ones, pulling them offstage. But this was no performance.

“It’s okay,” Sam whispered. “I know Pippa. I’ll help you get home to her.”

The twins spoke softly to each other before turning to face Sam. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Emily’s. The nurse who comes to help Pippa?”

They both nodded. They didn’t look convinced, but what choice did they have? The path up the hill was crowded with cops. Sam steered the boys to the back of the clearing, helped them rewrap themselves in the blanket. Then he hunkered down in the snow in front of them, hoping that his dark jacket would shield them if anyone looked closely into the clearing.

No one did. The blond woman danced to the other side of the circle, spinning away from the invaders, then falling. A white swan creating a diversion to shift danger away from her offspring. Two cops grabbed her. Others quickly surrounded Tian, and the dancers. Their pistols dark against white robed backs. One policeman had an astonishingly bald head that reflected the flickering light of the fire. He seemed to be directing the others, barking orders and pointing.

Then Tian seemed to recognize the bald man. With a war whoop, Tian put his head down and charged, breaking away from the two officers who had been holding his arms. He landed a punch to the bald man’s nose before two cops tackled him and threw him hard onto the snowy ground, held him down with boots on his back.

There was more shouting when one of the officers found two large jugs. He held them up, one in each hand, and called the others over. He sniffed, then tasted the contents, then spat the liquid out onto the snow. Holding his hand over his nose, dripping blood on snow, the bald guy yelled more orders. The cops started cuffing arms behind white robes with orange straps that looked like trash bag fasteners.

One by one the candles were sizzled out with a gloveful of snow. The cops kicked snow onto the flames of the bonfire and marched the white-robed figures up the slippery hill. The shouting faded, then the echo of voices was gone. Smoke hung over the stone circle. Sam was alone with the twins.