The Purgatorium (9 page)

“So maybe this is about your need to believe in your parents?”

Daphne stared back at the doctor in shock. She heard a pounding in her head. “I don’t know what you mean, but you don’t know everything.”

“Look at me, Daphne.” Hortense Gray also stood. “Kara’s death was not your fault.”

But she was wrong. The doctor didn’t know what had happened that night.

Again, Dr. Gray said, “Kara’s death was not your fault.”

Tears flooded Daphne’s eyes and, since she couldn’t speak, she ran from the room.

She heard Dr. Gray calling after her, but she took the stairs to the bottom floor and ran from the building. The other kids were still at the pool, most of them lying on loungers. She avoided them again, feeling numb and weak. As she reached the door, Cam appeared around the corner of her cabana.

“Daph?” His smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

She ran inside and flung herself on her bed. “Nothing.”

He followed her inside and closed the door.

“Aren’t you supposed to stay away from me?” she asked accusingly.

He stretched out on the bed beside her, on his back. “I don’t care. Talk to me.”

“I’m tired of talking.” She couldn’t look at him, didn’t want to look at another person again. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

He turned to her and wrapped his arms around her and held her, stroking her hair, not saying anything, until, at some point, she must have fallen asleep. When she awakened, entangled in arms and legs, in that twilight between sleep and wakefulness, she looked at the boy beside her, expecting to see Brock. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw it was Cam.

Then he awoke with a start. “What time is it?”

She glanced at the clock. “Eleven. Are you hungry for lunch?”

“I’ve got to go. Promise me you’ll go horseback riding?”

“Is Bridget going?” she felt petty for asking, especially when she knew her heart still belonged to Brock.

He smiled and said, “No. She doesn’t like horses.”

“Okay then. Three o’clock?”

Cam nodded, before kissing the top of her head, and walked out the door.

Lying beside Daphne was the book Hortense had given her,
The Tempest.
She picked it up and carried it across the room to one of the striped chairs. The book fell open to a page that was marked with a folded piece of paper—a clipped, yellowed newspaper article:

May 1994: Harvard Professor Fired for Unethical Practices: New York: Dr. Hortense Gray, Harvard Professor of Psychology, was recently relieved of her duties by the Harvard School of Psychology when her paper, “Using Pain to Stimulate Pleasure in the Clinically Depressed,” was submitted to and rejected by the
American Journal of Psychology
. The paper was rejected because it revealed methods the journal and the university deemed unethical. According to Dr. Fordham, chair of the Department of Psychology, Dr. Gray administered pain treatments to subjects diagnosed with clinical depression in order to locate the point at which a subject’s desire to die becomes replaced by the drive to survive. Dr. Gray hypothesized that when “the survival instinct kicks in, suicidal tendencies are overcome and the patient is cured”…

The article went on to say that Hortense was the adopted daughter of renowned psychologist, Dr. Malcolm Gray. The article also mentioned that Hortense was one of many orphans adopted by the psychologist who himself had been accused but never charged of using the children in his own experiments.

He used orphans—his own daughter—in his experiments?

Daphne looked through the rest of the book to see if there was anything more, and when she found nothing else, wondered if she’d been
meant to find the article, or if the doctor would be mortified to know Daphne had it. Daphne also thought again about the long scars all over the doctor’s arms. Did her father’s experiments have anything to do with them? A shiver skipped down her spine.

Then she opened
The Tempest
and began to read.

Later that afternoon, a group of them met at the same sunny clearing near the jeeps, where they had met for the sunset cruise. Daphne and Emma climbed behind Roger and Cam. Daphne was relieved to learn Cam had been telling the truth about Bridget not coming,  even though she had worn her yellow backless halter top and most flattering navy shorts just in case.

She hated herself for wanting Cam’s attention, but there it was.

Another jeep—with the round-cheeked, older woman named Mary Ellen sitting beside Phillip in the front seat and with Dave and Vince in the back—followed Roger up the road and out of the canyon. They drove for five or ten minutes along the canyon ridge until they came to the Nature Conservancy headquarters. Cam told her that the oldest of the buildings, the chapel, constructed during the ranching period, had been converted into stables. Kelly, the guide, whom Daphne had briefly met at dinner her first night on the island, greeted them and gave them instructions before taking them into the pen and helping them to mount, one by one.

Daphne waited her turn next to Cam and Emma on the dirt with the sharp smell of animal and leather and hay. A gentle breeze made the smells bearable.

Kelly looked to be in her late thirties, and was a red head with green eyes. She wore jeans and a white tank with an unbuttoned denim shirt. When Kelly explained she had just returned to work on the island after ten months of maternity leave, they all congratulated her on her baby.

Daphne rode a white mare named Pearl. Kelly led them on a gray gelding called Chief from the pen and up the canyon ridge toward the deep valley.

Kelly warned everyone not to let the horses feed on the tall grass along the hills. The riders should, instead, show them who was boss by forcing them on the trail. There wasn’t a literal trail. She meant to keep the horses in line. But the horses didn’t stay in line. They kept vying for the place behind Chief. Pearl bit the butt of the horse in front of her, and it kicked back, startling Phillip, its rider. Kelly apparently hadn’t seen, and Phillip said nothing.

As they ascended the hill to the canyon ridge, Daphne felt a little nervous with the big animal moving beneath her. She hadn’t ridden since she was nine, when her parents had taken her, Kara, and Joey on a family trip to Durango. Her mother wouldn’t join them on the trail ride, saying she didn’t like horses, but Daphne could tell even then that her mother was frightened of them. This had added to Daphne’s own fear. She was frightened then, riding up and down the steep San Juan Mountains and through the national forest.  And since Joey’s horse had stayed near hers, he had been the one to keep her brave and cheerful.

Today, Cam was along to support her, but her fear was made worse by the anxiety she felt over anticipating the next exercise. She feared she was being set up for another terrifying experience. She wondered why she had agreed to come, if she were so uncertain; but she knew why: she was curious to see what would happen. Plus, it was so unlike her regular, dreary, gloomy life. And, most of all, her parents had wanted her to experience this.

From the top of the ridge, the view was spectacular, reminding Daphne of how she pictured the Shire in
The Hobbit
. Green grass grew down in the valley and along endless hills to either side—again making her think of a fairway—all the way down to the stream, which turned and curled like fancy, cursive penmanship. Mounds of shrubs in darker shades of green contrasted with the emerald color of the grass, and then whole bushes of yellow poppies and purple mountain glory added to the serenity of the view. The hills rolled low in areas, like hobbit barrows, and then became more jagged and rocky and taller further away, toward the mountains and their purple peaks on either side.

Kelly turned her body in the saddle so she was facing the group behind her. “We’re about to head down into Central Valley. This valley runs along a fault line dividing the northern half of the island from the southern. It also divides the two mountains, Mount Diablo to the north and Sierra Blanca to the south. A stream runs all the way through Central Valley from Prisoners Harbor, where you docked, to the west end at Black Point. You’ll find a variety of wildlife throughout the valley, including the island fox, the island scrub jay, the Pacific tree frog, the bald eagle, the island deer mouse, and several plant species, such as morning glory, monkey flower, and buckwheat. Some plant species here are found nowhere else in the world.”

The ascent was nothing compared to riding downhill. The hooves slipped on rocks, causing the horses to stumble, and this did not deter them from biting one another. Pearl ran forward and pushed her way behind Chief, causing Daphne to let out a little squeal of fear. She pulled back on the reins.

“Whoa, Pearl. Slow down.”

“There you go,” Kelly said. “Show her who’s boss.”

“Show her who’s boss!” Dave was laughing. “That’s classic! Show her who’s boss!”

Daphne had no idea what Dave found funny.

Pearl kicked at Phillips’s horse with her hind legs and then came down and reared back, nearly throwing Daphne off. Daphne’s heart beat fast and she couldn’t speak.

Kelly turned Chief around. “Whoa, Pearl! Whoa, girl!”

Daphne didn’t think it did any good as she caught her breath and tried to slow down her heart. If the horses had at one time considered Kelly their leader, they no longer remembered it. She was like any other rider to them now.

Emma called out, “You okay, Daphne?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Her heart still raced and she couldn’t breathe as she clutched the reins.

She glanced at Cam, who looked at her, white-faced.

“Sure?” he asked.

Daphne nodded, still breathless.

She followed Kelly and the Chief further into the valley.

After several yards, Kelly gave them more information about the area. “There are some other interesting plants, such as the native Jimsen Weed the Chumash used as a ceremonial hallucinogen, and the non-native African iceplants and European milk thistle. There’s milk thistle over there,” Kelly said, probably aware but not willing to acknowledge her lost authority over the horses.

The milk thistle resembled a medieval flail with its thick green stem topped with a green spiked head. A few purple blooms on its tip might have been blood.

“We’ll take the horses down to the stream for a drink. They’ll go right to it. You don’t have to do a thing.”

The horses scattered in a trot despite the commands of their riders, but when they reached the stream, they stopped and drank and seemed ready to submit again.

“Okay, everybody,” Kelly said. “If you’ll notice the leather pouches near your knees, you’ll find plastic water bottles. Each rider has two: one for the ride out, and one for the ride in. If you’d like to dismount and taste the spring water, go right ahead. It’s delicious.”

Phillip and Emma climbed down and bent over the stream as Kelly continued to talk.

“From here, we’ll follow the stream down further into the valley. Although there aren’t many trees, keep your eye out for occasional low branches and use your reins to steer clear of them. I’ll lead you to the top of Mount Diablo, which is on the northern side of the island and also the higher of the two mountains at 2,450 feet above sea level. On clear days, you can see the California coast from there, and at this time of year, there’s a good chance we’ll spot whales.”

This solicited excitement among the riders. “Oh.”

“Yay!” Emma said.

“I hope so!” Dave shouted in his rowdy voice. “We didn’t see any the last time we came, did we Vince.”

Vince shook his head in his usual mute way.

“How long is this trip, roundtrip?” Phillip asked.

“Two hours. It’s roughly three miles to the base of the mountain and another mile to the top,” Kelly replied.

“That water
is
delicious,” Emma said as she climbed up in her saddle.

“Good,” Kelly said. “Let’s get started.”

Kelly led them to a narrow part of the stream where the horses could easily jump across, but as soon as Pearl landed, she took off at a canter in front of Chief. Daphne pulled back on the reins, “Whoa! Whoa, Pearl!” Pearl reared back, again nearly throwing Daphne.

Kelly caught up to her. “Don’t pull back so hard and so fast. You’re going to get yourself bucked right off!”

“Sorry.”

Kelly chastised Pearl, but again, Daphne doubted Pearl cared.

Daphne decided she did not like horseback riding. The lack of control over an almost wild beast beneath her was terrifying.

When the others caught up, Pearl maintained her place behind Chief and behaved herself. Cam was a few horses back, but Daphne wasn’t about to make Pearl wait for him.

Up ahead to their left, toward Sierra Blanca to the south, smoke swirled up in great dark curls.

“What’s that?” Daphne asked.

Kelly spoke loudly so the others further back could hear. “A contained fire. Don’t worry. It’s a standard procedure used by the Nature Conservancy. It restores nutrients to the ground and controls vigorous, non-native plant life, such as fennel.”

“Non-native?” Phillip asked. “How did it get here?”

Kelly pulled up beside him. “From the ranchers who came after the missionaries shipped the Chumash off to the mainland. It took years to get all the pigs and sheep out of here. We’re still working on the plant life.”

Two wooden signs on a single wooden post jutted from the ground, and sitting upon it was a blue bird. “The scrub jay,” Kelly pointed out. The bird looked at them and flew away.

The top sign read “Centinela.”

“What does that mean?” Daphne asked.

“The Sentry,” Kelly explained. “This is a crossroads leading three different ways.”

“Ooohh!” Dave crooned. “Love it. Sounds like a character in a video game. Watch out for dragons.” He laughed at his own joke, but no one else did.

The bottom sign pointed forward to Christy/West End, to the left to Ridge Road, and to the right to Diablo. Kelly led the group to the right.

“If we went straight, we would come to the western side of the island, where you would see the old Christy Ranch. It’s also where most of the Chumash ruins and archaeological sites are located. No one is allowed on that side without a permit from the Nature Conservancy, not only because the sites are under its protection, but also because the western side of the island is more difficult to navigate.”

“Some say it’s haunted,” Dave said.

“Yes, that’s what they say,” Kelly said. “Haunted Bridge divides the old Christy Ranch from the Chumash ruins, and people say they’ve seen and heard weird things.”

“Have you?” Mary Ellen asked.

“I don’t go to that side of the island.”

“You don’t actually believe the stories, though, do you?” Daphne asked.

“I don’t know what to think of them, to tell you the truth.”

After a while, Kelly resumed her guided tour speech. “If I would have led you to the left from the Centinela sign, toward Ridge Road, we would have crossed to the south to a place called Laguna Point, which is not far from the resort and just east of Sierra Blanca.”

Gradually the terrain became steeper and rockier, and the sun blasted down on them without relief. Fingers of sweat ran down Daphne’s neck and back and tickled her forehead. She reached into one of the two leather pouches and took several gulps from the water bottle, grateful when they climbed out of the valley and up into the wind.

Pearl jumped forward. Daphne turned. Phillip’s horse bit and nudged Pearl’s rump. Pearl kicked back but lost her footing and slid backward several feet. Daphne’s breath caught as she held tightly to the reins.

Shoot, shoot, shoot. What the heck am I doing?

“Steady, girl.” Her voice sounded soft and weak. “Steady,” she said more loudly.

Phillip’s horse took the position behind Chief, and before Pearl could maneuver herself behind it, a red mare moved in line, snorting at Pearl. Pearl fell in behind the red mare, biting and pushing. Daphne took the reins and steered Pearl out of line, hoping to get in behind Chief. They neared the top of the mountain, forming more of a clump than a line, so Daphne allowed Pearl to choose her spot as they gazed out at the great blue sea ahead of them.

“Wow,” Phillip said.

“Hey, Daph.” Cam moved beside her on his brown gelding. “What do you think?”

The magnificent view had an immediate calming effect. “It’s beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” She gave Cam a smile.

The wind cooled them beneath the sun’s rays. Although clouds were gathering to the west, the northern skies remained starkly blue, as blue as the sea. To the east Daphne could make out along the gray horizon the shape of the California coastline—its lights, smoke, and highest buildings.

“Over there!” Kelly pointed. “I see a pair of humpbacks. Wait for it. You’ll see them in a minute.”

“Where?” Emma asked.

Everyone followed Kelly’s finger.

“Just there. See them?”

Two giant whales rolled over the surface of the water, side by side. Then one leapt up into the air, spinning like a football before falling beneath the surface.