Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous: Tim Marquitz (32 page)

“Damned if it don’t look Middle Eastern, but it’s
not like we can ask her.” The girl hadn’t said a word
since he’d found her. She appeared to be about six, with large,
chocolate brown eyes, and the face of an angel. He moved to the side
of the tub and she stared at him. She was intelligent, he could tell.
Even mature for her age. But she couldn’t or wouldn’t
speak. “Best not tell Cassie, ok?”

His mother nodded. She’d been fond of Cassie in the beginning,
but since then there’d been some trouble with the new hierarchy
in the house. At least his mother supported his decision to keep the
girl.

He glanced again at the child sitting in the tub, and she smiled at
him.

Oddly, he felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Cassie came to breakfast late the next morning. Jeb had already eaten
and was putting on his coat to go check the animals. The girl sat at
the table, finished her oatmeal, then was getting ready to take her
plate to the sink when in walked Cassie.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Jeb crossed the room to plant a
kiss on Cassie’s nose.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep so late. I don’t
feel very well.”

Jeb’s mother was drying her hands on a dishtowel. “You do
look a mite pale.”

“I’ll be fine, Sarah.”

The girl walked up to Cassie and put her hands on her stomach. Then
she turned her head and placed an ear against it. A huge grin split
her face.

“What the hell is she doing?” Cassie shoved the girl
away.

Continuing to grin, the girl glanced at Jeb.

Sarah stared. “Are you pregnant?”

“No. Of course not.”

Jeb eyed Cassie. “You sure?”

“Well, no. I guess I’m not. But even if I were, how the
hell would she know?” She pointed at the girl.

Jeb shrugged. “But I think that’s what she means.”
He grinned at the girl, who’d come over and taken his hand.
They both turned to Cassie.

Cassie walked to the table, collapsed into a chair, then dropped her
head into her hands and burst into tears. “How the hell did
this happen?”

“Reckon the same way it always does.” Sarah snorted from
the sink.

Jeb went to Cassie, put his hands on her shoulders. “Honey,
why’re you so upset? A child’s a gift from God. We should
be happy to be so blessed.”

Cassie’s sobs got louder. “A g-g-gift from God? This is
horrible! I don’t want to bring a child into this place.
There’s not even a doctor around—I’ll probably
die.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Women been birthing babies for
thousands of years. You think every one of ’em had a doctor,
midwife, or a fancy hospital? Indian women walked themselves out in
the fields and squatted. Don’t need a doctor for what comes
natural. You’ll live.”

Jeb stroked Cassie’s hair. “You’ll be fine. We’ll
take good care of you. Mom’ll help.” At the sharp glance
Sarah sent his way, he shook his head. “I’ll help you.
Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see. Why don’t
you take yourself back to bed and get some rest. Give your mind a bit
o’ time to adjust.”

“Fine.” Cassie rose, walked to the stairs, then turned
back with one last tear-filled glance. With slow movements and
clouded eyes, she looked like a sleepwalker.

“Gonna baby her like that the whole nine months?”

Jeb sighed. “Don’t take this wrong, Mama, but if I did,
that’d be my concern. But if you must know, I’m not.
Today, though, I think she needs some time alone. Let her adjust to
the idea of carryin’. Not everyone’s like us. Not
everyone has faith things happen for a reason.” He stroked the
girl’s hair and she smiled. “Maybe you can try an’
be a little nicer?”

Sarah looked at her son straight-faced. “Of course. Then her
countenance softened. “You not sleeping well?”

“No. Been having these dreams. I toss and turn all night and
all I remember when I wake is the fear; something’s coming, I
know, and I need to figure out how to protect you all.” He sat
down. “But how can I prepare if I don’t understand what’s
commin’?”

“Perhaps they’re just dreams, son.”

Jeb rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, maybe, but it was those same
dreams that saved us when them clouds rolled in. If I hadn’t
dreamt something coming and started making proper plans, where would
we be? We wouldn’t have the greenhouse or the gennys. We’d
be shivering in the dark and cold like everybody else.”

Sarah took his hand. “The Lord is our canopy, our provider,
Jeb. He gave you those dreams that we might be saved, and we were.
We’re surviving by the grace of God, and if He wants you to
know something, then by all that’s holy, He’ll give a
holler.”

“That’s just it, Ma. He does speak to me, just not in so
many words. I’ve got to figure out what He wants me to know,
and it’s never simple. I just hope I’m up to the task.”

Sarah held up a finger. “What’s I Corinthians 14:33 say?”

“God’s not the author of confusion, but of peace.”

Sarah smiled. “Then be at peace. God ain’t stupid. He’ll
make His way plain—and in His good time.”

“Yes, Mama.”

The girl climbed up in his lap and laid her head on his shoulder. Jeb
felt something inside ease a bit.

“Looks like someone believes in you.” Sarah smiled.

The days and weeks went by. Jeb tended the livestock they still had,
and patrolled the fence separating the farm from the rest of the
world. Sarah taught the girl to help in the greenhouse, while Cassie
pitched in whenever she wasn’t having the sickness. The growing
baby seemed to be calming the woman down, helping her get settled
with the thought of motherhood. On the other hand, Cassie still
hadn’t taken to the girl, whom they’d dubbed Annie, even
though every morning Annie would put her hands on Cassie’s
burgeoning belly and give a listen. She’d place a soft kiss on
it and come away with a grin. Tolerating the ritual, Cassie would
just roll her eyes.

Jeb was saddling his horse when Annie walked into the barn. Sarah had
crocheted her a hat with matching red mittens. She looked adorable.
No,
Jeb thought,
she’s beautiful
. The little girl
glowed from the inside out, a gentle radiance from her eyes and
smile. Come to think of it, he was starting to notice the same glow
in Cassie. He’d heard pregnancy made women glow … now he
believed it.

Annie walked over to Jeb’s other horse, Storm, and was softly
stroking her nose. He alternated the horses so they both could get a
workout, but lately, he’d been neglecting Storm. She wasn’t
as fast as Bruno and he worried she couldn’t handle his weight.

Glancing over, Jeb saw the girl slip into Storm’s stall.
“Annie!” He rushed over. “You can’t just go
into a horse’s stall like that, honey. You could get kicked, or
worse.” But Annie had climbed astride Storm’s back, how
he couldn’t comprehend, and was smiling angelically at him.
Storm gave a soft whinny, but made no move to dislodge the child.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Jeb shook his head. “Do
you know how to ride?”

Annie nodded.

“Well get down. We’ll get her saddled and you can come
with me. You like that?”

Annie nodded again, and with a giggle, slid from the horse’s
back. Jeb saddled the horse for her and the two rode off to the fence
line.

With the livestock staying in the barn—no sense advertising
they had plenty of food—the pastures lay empty. Still, most
days, Jeb patrolled. If someone was on the land, close to his family,
he needed to know. It wasn’t as cold during the day, and with
the strange half-light emanating from the clouds, you could see
fairly well. It was as though they lived in a perpetually cloudy and
dark day. Times were, Jeb would’ve given just about anything to
again feel the sun on his face.

Annie had taken to riding with him, and he was glad for the company,
even if it was void of conversation. He watched as she rode, staring
over the land, her little face screwed up in consternation.

One afternoon, they returned to find Cassie tear-faced while Sarah
was busily banging dishes on the stove.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Jeb rushed from the door to
Cassie’s side.

“Apparently, I’m a sissy.”

Jeb cast a glance at his mother.

“Cassie, let’s speak the truth, now—I didn’t
say you were a sissy.”

“Not in those words, maybe, but that was the gist. You think
I’m a ninny for being scared … but I’ve never had
a baby. It’s not like there’s a hospital around where I
can take those birthing classes to learn what’s up. No, I’m
stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no doctor or anything. Yes, I’m
scared, and I’m not ashamed to say it.”

“You have every right to be.” Jeb pulled her from the
chair and into his arms. He shot his mother a look, but she only
shrugged. “Mom has had a baby, and I’ve watched my
livestock give birth too many times to count.”

“Do I look like a heifer to you, Jeb?”

“Course not, but it’s the same general idea. We’ll
get through this, Cassie, we will. Just have a little faith.”

“Not my strong suit.” Cassie’s eyes fell on Annie.
“What’re you gawking at?”

Annie bounced slightly on her heels and continued to grin.

Cassie beckoned the girl forward. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,
c’mon.”

The girl rushed over and wrapped her arms around Cassie as she laid
an ear to her belly. After a moment, she gazed at Cassie and smiled.
Cassie gave her the briefest of hugs before gently shooing her off.

Jeb followed his wife back up the stairs. “Thanks for letting
Annie touch your belly.”

Cassie held up her hands in surrender. “Does it every day.”

Jeb laid a hand on her arm. “I know, but this is the first I’ve
seen you hug her.”

“It’s odd,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “She
seems to calm the baby. He stops moving whenever she touches me, even
when she’s near … like the baby can sense her, somehow.
And it’s not just the baby, either. If it were, I might be
concerned, but it’s me, too. The girl comes around, and I don’t
know … I just get this sense of calm.” She shook her
head. “That is one weird little girl.”

“She’s a mystery, that’s for sure.”

That night proved to be one of the coldest yet, and they all huddled
around the fireplace for warmth. Outside, rattling the windows, the
wind howled like a hungry wolf, leaving them all to sit with the most
morose of thoughts. Jeb had checked the generator and the machine was
chugging away, but the house’s furnace couldn’t keep up
with the chill. Annie had climbed into his lap and Cassie was pressed
close against him on one side, while Sarah burrowed against the
other. Everyone had begun to doze, when a knock on the door broke the
silence.

Jeb jumped, as did the women. Annie, standing, was staring at the
door with her head cocked to one side, like a hunting dog tracking
prey with its ears.

Then she snarled.

Of course, people couldn’t really snarl, but Jeb had no other
words for the sound. A low rumble started in her chest and she bared
her teeth.

Jeb backed away from her on his way to the door, still unnerved by
the girl’s reaction. Walking through the kitchen, he’d
just grabbed the doorknob when Annie gripped his arm. Looking at her,
Jeb saw the girl frantically shaking her head.

“Annie, stop. I gotta check.” Insistent, the girl tried
to pull him away from the door.

“Seriously, Annie. I have the gun right here. If it’s
trouble—I’m prepared.”

Coming from behind, Sarah took Annie by her shoulders and pulled her
back. Keeping his body behind the door in case he needed to use his
weight to slam it shut, he gripped the loaded shotgun with one hand,
and with the other, cracked opened the door. “Friend or foe?”

A dark figure appeared on the porch. “Friend, kind sir. A
frozen one.”

Jeb peered closely at the stranger, waiting for his internal alarms
to go off. They didn’t. He opened the door wider. As he did,
wind shot inside, circling the inside of the small farmhouse and
chilling everything it touched. Annie shivered and made a low,
ominous sound. Unease touched the back of Jeb’s neck, making
his skin prickle and raising the hairs. The internal alarms he’d
trusted for months remained silent.

The stranger smiled, his white teeth sparkling in the gloom.

“I’m Pastor Friendly, of the First Baptist Church of our
Lord, down Warsaw way.”

“Ways from your flock, pastor.”

“Indeed, indeed. But praise be to God they’re safe; we
foresaw the end, and by His mercy, prepared. Now that we’re
settled, I was compelled to journey, ministering to those who might
be bereft of pastoral care, or the words of the Good Book. For who
could survive these dark days without the inner light of
faithfulness?”

The words spoke to Jeb, and the man, himself, seemed genuinely
sincere. He’d kept the faith, sure … but like the Word
said in Hebrews,
Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves
together
; his soul could use the fellowship, heck, they all
could.

Jeb glanced again at Annie who was struggling in his mother’s
arms and felt conflicted. It was more than obvious she didn’t
want the man to come in.

With the pastor seated on the porch steps, Jeb grabbed his coat off
its peg, put it on, and called back, “I’m going outside …
lock the door behind me.” There was no reason to check the
shotgun. Whenever it was in his hands, it was loaded.

The pastor smiled as Jeb stepped outside. “I understand the
hesitation, boy. You can’t be too careful, not in these times
of trial. There are those who’d just soon kill you, as spit.
But rest assured, I mean you and your family no ill.”

“We’ll see.” Jeb stepped off the porch, and
gesturing the man to walk in front of him, he made a thorough sweep
around the house. At one point he froze—“Hold up a
sec”—and strained his ears for any tell indicating more
than just the lone Pastor. Hearing nothing, he walked back to the
porch, and stared at the other man.