Knowing (42 page)

“How about the one that’s closest to being accurate.”

Still grasping her hand, he nodded. “I’m afraid they’ve made the answer to that question more difficult. You see, we’re surrounded by lies. You truly have
no
idea how deeply those lies are rooted in our history, religions and spiritual lives. Any supposed truth, for what it’s worth, is getting harder to find. Pretty soon, you won’t recognize the truth when it walks up and slaps you on the head.
That’s what they’re counting on
.” He leaned a few inches closer. “How can I get this across to you?” His tone became alarming. “Their lies have become deeply embedded in the fabric of this world. And those who speak the truth are disavowed or destroyed. That’s how
they
remain in control. Believe me, I spent enough time on their side of the fence to understand how they’ve achieved it.”

“Well, go on then. Tell me how they did it.”

“They lead the ignorant from one disillusionment to another. They tease you with the next best thing that has a shelf life of six months. They quell your hysteria with drugs while your petitions remains unheard because of their blatant disinterest. They distract you with daily doses of ‘bread and circus’ so that you’re looking the other way when they make their bold moves. They make you doubt your own feelings and distrust your intuition when it’s screaming at you to get the hell out! Because you know what? Somewhere down deep inside all of us…somewhere that hasn’t been napalmed by their propaganda, there’s still an ancient awareness that
knows
. Even though everything around you appears ordinary and business as usual, that primeval cell inside you has the ability to see through their veils of deception. And when the few wake up and
see
the lies—when that light turns on—they want to shout from the rooftops! ‘Look! Look over there! See that? Did you see it?’ But they turn around and nobody’s listening to them. They stare into the eyes of their friends and family and all they see are blank orbs and lost souls shaded by the façade of competence. So, they think, ‘No, no, no. Can’t speak up. Better to be safe and stay silent.’ And so they do just that. They stay silent because they’re terrified of being separated from friends, locked up or shunned by their family. That’s a potent fear right there. They stay silent because they believe no one else out there has ever seen what they have seen or felt what they have felt in the deepest core of their soul.” He took a breath. “And
that
is how the liars remain in control. Through one’s silence and fear of alienation, the truth is buried deeper under the soil of fabrication and deceit. Chaos rules because eventually, it’s easier to cling to whatever debris is left than to walk into the storm, taste the rain and greet the thunder with your fists balled and your courage lit like a fire that will never be put out.” He let go of her hand. “And that, my dear, is why you must not give up.”

Jane felt her world collapse around her as Saul walked with her to the Lincoln and then rose back up on terra firma. They drove in silence until he was a city block away from the CSA. Putting the car in park, he motioned for her to open her door. “No need to attract attention.”

Jane got out and looked around. “You think they’re watching us?”

Saul glanced around the area, sniffing out the unseen with his eyes. “Not right now. But they’re close.”

She leaned into the car. “Aren’t you going to give some kind of parting warning like everybody else has?”

He looked her straight in the eye. “No warnings. When the time comes, you’ll know exactly what to do.”

He turned the Lincoln around and disappeared down the dirt road. Something about his last words left a sterile sting against her heart.

By the time Jane hiked back to the CSA, the classes were just breaking up and guests were taking advantage of the short recess. She didn’t have a hard time locating Harlan; she could hear him delighting the group with another story.

“I got a ticket in the mail once from one of them cameras that snapped me goin’ over the speed limit. You know what I did? I mailed
them
a photo of my hundred-dollar check!”

Jane waved toward Harlan.

“Hey there, honey!” he said, hugging her around the shoulders. “I just learned four more ways to compost.”

Jane pulled him aside as casually as she could muster. “Something’s come up. We gotta get outta here this afternoon.”

Harlan’s mood sobered up fast. “Why wait?” he whispered. “Let’s do it now.”

“No. I have to do the damn cards in order—”

“Huh?”

“The kid. He’s going to take me to the location of the next card. I’ll find whatever I need there and then we can take off.” She spied Sage standing to the side. “Gotta go.” Jane turned around and meandered around the visitors toward Sage.

“Where you been?” Sage asked urgently, keeping his focus in front of him. “I spent the morning keeping my ear to the ground to make sure Jude stayed away.”

“Well, if you pressed your ear a little harder, you might have heard me.”

“Huh?”

“Do I hear the
vroom-vroom
of a four-wheeler in my near future?”

They agreed that Jane would nonchalantly walk down the driveway and up the road where Sage would meet her on the four-wheeler. Less than half an hour later, he showed up and Jane hopped on the back of the ATV. He navigated toward Highway 17 then turned onto the byway that paralleled the highway. Less than one mile later, he turned left and kicked the puppy into the next gear. For three miles, they traveled up a bumpy, hard-packed mountain road with no guardrails or regular maintenance. Sage expertly avoided the many potholes as they ascended a steep hill that crested into a shallow valley where the road dead-ended.

They got off the vehicle and Sage led Jane two hundred feet across the grass and down a short hill where a babbling spring brook wound around a clump of aspens. It must have been an idyllic escape for Gabe, Jane mused, with a summertime panorama of wildflowers blanketing the surrounding meadows.

“That’s where the cabin was,” Sage said, pointing to an empty spot across the creek.

“What happened to it?”

“It got burned up in a wildfire right after Gabe left.” He stared at the empty spot. “Gabe always said that fire was purifying. So when that thunderbolt sparked the grass and the fire broke out, I was the only one who really got the message.” He pulled the postcard out of his jacket and held it in front of him, to his right. “See it?”

Jane easily made out the weathered windmill on the left where “X” marked the spot. They trudged through the moist ground but as they moved closer, the wet earth turned to mud, almost causing Jane to slip several times. Finally, they reached the windmill. Seeing that the “X” was exactly to the left of the windmill, Jane slipped across the muddy slope and scanned the immediate area. “There’s nothing here!”

“It’s gotta be there!”

“What am I even looking for?”

“I guess you’ll know it when you see it,” he said with a shrug.

Jane peered into the muddy swath of land that lined up with the windmill. Nothing. She decided to walk the path, feeling with the tip of her cowboy boot as she inched along. Fewer than five feet in, her boot scuffed against a round metal sign the size of a dinner plate. The bright yellow sun symbol caught her eye. Wiping off the mud from the metal, there was the marker: “Sunny & Son Farms—Spud-Tastic Potatoes Since 1937.”

“This is it, Sage!” Jane looked off to the side. Lying next to the base of the windmill and covered with heavy burlap was a shovel. She started for it when Sage let out a quick whistle. She looked over at him.

He discreetly pointed behind him, toward an upper ridge that rimmed the valley. Standing in full view was Jude, with his ATV close by.

Jane’s blood boiled. “What in the fuck is he doing?”

“Shit,” Sage whispered, kicking the soil and pretending to look out over the valley. “He took the four-wheeler up the shortcut. You can’t dig anything up now.”

Jane’s patience was wearing thin. “Listen to me, kid. My friend and I have to get outta here no later than tonight.”

Sage thought about it. “He’s going to be perched up there, waiting for you.”

Jane ruminated. “Does he miss any meals?”

“Never.”

“Okay. I’ll figure this out.”

They headed out of the area, toward the four-wheeler.

“Hey, I got to tell you something,” Sage offered. “I don’t know if it means anything but I heard Jude talking on his cell phone this morning really quietly.”

“Yeah…”

“He never talks on his cell phone. The last time he did that was right before Gabe took off.”

Jane’s mouth went dry. “Fuck…”

“You really do need to get outta here.”

“I can’t leave without digging up whatever is underneath that dirt.”

A hard south wind swept quickly through the valley, signaling an approaching spring rainstorm. They got on the ATV and drove away. Jude stayed put, never once taking his eyes off of them.

Once back at the CSA, Jane asked Sage to drop her at the van. He sped back to the main house as Jane trudged through the soggy field. The pitter-patter of rain spat against her leather jacket as she unlocked the passenger door. But it was already unlocked. Her heart raced as she dove into the van. Quickly opening her satchel, she found the postcards in the same place she left them. From what she could tell, they hadn’t been disturbed. Digging into the center of the satchel, she felt around for the envelope of photos that Monroe gave her. Finding it, she pulled it out and lifted out the photos. They were all there. Checking the glove compartment, it was still locked and didn’t look as if it’d been touched. Unlocking it, she pulled out the 9mm. That’s when she spied her wallet sticking out from under the passenger seat. Grabbing it, she looked inside. The five hundred dollars was gone. Her two fake IDs had been removed and carelessly put back. Jane felt the tension mount. Suddenly, somebody rapped hard on the passenger window. Instinctively, she grabbed the 9mm up without even looking and pointed it.

“Whoa!” Harlan yelled, holding up his hands and taking a step back.

Jane unlocked the passenger door, waving Harlan inside.

“What’s goin’ on?” Harlan asked, his clothing wet from the rain.

“We got ripped off.” She showed her empty wallet. “And he figures I’m either Anne LeRóy or Wanda LeRóy.”

“He who?”

“Jude. The creepy little fuck is onto us.” She momentarily considered telling him about her disturbing visit with Saul but decided against it.

Harlan glanced around in the back of the van. “Oh, hell, Jane.”

She turned. “Shit!” All the bags in the back of the van had been opened and pawed through. Clothing, blankets, gear for the car, flashlights, food and more was strewn every direction. “Jesus. What in the hell did he take?”

Harlan hefted his body back into the van and feverishly searched through the chaos. “Aw, hell, Jane. He found my bag of stuff and threw it everywhere. Looks like he ripped off my ball cap with the lights—”

“What about the notebook?”

He rummaged through the piles. “I don’t see it, Jane!” His voice became frantic as the rain pounded harder on the roof of the van.

“Calm down, Harlan.”

“Looks like the son-of-a-bitch stole the Vicodin.”

“Figures…”

“Oh, no….oh, God…”

“What?”

Harlan held up the two empty prescription bottles of his anti-rejection drugs. “He tossed them, Jane! I can’t live without them!”

Jane darted out of the van and swung open the back door. The rain pelted her face as she sorted through the mess. “What’s this?” She held up a prescription bottle.

“That’s the Valium. He must have missed it.”

Jane quickly shoved it into her jacket pocket and crawled into the clutter, searching for any sign of his pills. Coming up empty, she jumped outside. “He had to toss the pills somewhere. Tell me their colors.”

“One capsule is light brown and cream. The other is a light purple tablet.”

They searched the surrounding area.

“I found two purple ones!” Harlan exclaimed.

Jane discovered three of the brown and cream capsules but one of them was already halfway dissolved and useless. After half an hour, they were able to gather only six of the tablets and three of the purple tablets, enough to last Harlan three days.

Harlan looked at her with dread. “Jane, what in the world am I gonna do? I’m dead without these drugs.”

“I’ll figure it out, goddammit!” She ran her fingers through her black hair. “First things first.” After giving it serious thought, she devised a precise plan for later that night. When she told Harlan her plan, he regarded her with slack-jawed awe.

“Damn, Jane. I hope I never get on your bad side.”

By dinnertime, both of them were ready to see the CSA in their rear view mirror. But Jude was nowhere to be found. It was hard for Jane to believe he was still sitting on that ridge in the pouring rain waiting for her to return. Darkness had already descended as the group grabbed their plates and made their way down the food line. Sage hovered close by but kept his mouth shut. Jane was impressed by his ability to stay so cool, while still being aware of her situation. As the guests filled their plates, Blythe reminded everyone of “The Singing Bowls” meditation that would take place after the meal. From what Jane gathered, seven glass bowls representing the seven chakras would be “played” as they “sang” and the vibrations would “clear the cloudy corners” of everyone’s body. As much as Jane had misgivings about the New Age world, Blythe’s “singing bowls” were the perfectly tuned foil she needed.

Ninety minutes later and bloated from too much gluten-free pasta and three-bean salad, Jane and Harlan were still waiting for Jude’s arrival. Blythe instructed the group to file into the room just off the kitchen and sit in a circle. Sage ducked away and up the stairs, hanging on the landing for a little bit, before retreating into his bedroom. The outside kitchen door opened and Jude walked in just as Jane carried her plate and cup to the sink. She pretended to be preoccupied with the dishes but she saw every move the skinny little asshat made. He was wet and covered with mud from the soles of his boots to his knees. She wasn’t sure whether he got his ATV stuck on the trail or if he just barreled through muddy runoff. Either way, he looked fit to be tied as he scooped up what was left of the food, slammed it onto his plate and sat down at the long table. Harlan eyed Jane and she tilted her head toward the meditation group. Reluctantly, he followed the other visitors into the next room, closing the door behind him.

Jane felt her body shaking but not from fear. All she wanted to do was wrap a belt around Jude’s scrawny neck and pull it tightly until she pressed the last peep out of his throat. Instead, she crossed to the thermos of spicy, hot apple cider and poured it into her mug.

“Might ask me if I’d want a cup,” Jude declared with a slimy tenor.

Jane turned. “Who do you think this is for?”

He eyed her carefully. “Why you being so nice to me?”

“You’re wet. You must be cold. Figured you’d want something hot.” She set the mug in front of him.

Jude shoved a mouthful of food into his ragged little mouth and washed it down with a gulp of cider. “Ain’t even that hot!”

“You got a lot of complaints, don’t you?”

Gradually, a strange tone began to emit from the next room. Jane likened it to an armada of alien spacecraft hovering above the farm as their galactic engines whirred. With each passing second, the tones increased in intensity. Part of her wanted to lay back, relax and let the mesmerizing droning pulse from the “singing bowls” sweep her into dreamland. But focus was paramount right now. She got up and poured herself what was left out of the coffeepot. After a few good swigs of black coffee, she felt more centered, even as the buzzing hum grew louder and deeper. Jane moved to the side and reread all the homey plaques she’d already committed to memory. Looking at the “You are here” plaque again with the longitude and latitude written out, a piece of the puzzle possibly clicked into place. Once she got back to her computer, she could verify it.

“You know,” Jude said, after fifteen long minutes of slurping his food and cider, “for someone who don’t look like they know their way ‘round a kitchen, you sure are hangin’ out in this one a long time. Don’t you have someplace you need to be?”

The cycling droning tones from the “singing bowls” deepened. Jane pulled out a chair and sat down across the table from Jude. Turning back to the wall, she checked the clock.

“Whatcha doin’?” he griped, plowing the last bite of food into his mouth.

“How was your dinner?”

He regarded her with an indifferent sneer. “Why you care?” Downing the last drop of cider, he slammed the mug on the table and wiped his mouth with his filthy hand.

“Did you grab everything you wanted?”

He squinted his eyes toward her. “What in the hell is up with you?”

She leaned forward on her elbows. “I’m asking because I see you got what you wanted out of our van.”

Jude casually yawned in a dismissive manner, sliding his plate and cup to the side. He smiled, licking his thin lips as he tipped his chair back. “Yeah? What proof you got?”

Jane looked at him for a hard minute. She was reminded that people really
do
take on the grime of their connections. Experience really does wash over each of us and color the unseen aura that shadows and compels us. She leaned closer to him. “Let me ask you something. How long have you been a piece of shit?”

He righted his chair. “You got a lot of nerve, bitch,” he said with a lazy drawl.

She felt her blood boil. “You know what? You’re right. I do. I got a lot of nerve. And when someone corners me, I fight back.” She stood up, checking the clock one more time.