Scarecrow (30 page)

I leaned on the shovel, catching my breath. Maybe the explanation was so simple, I was missing it completely. Maybe Dewey had had an accident. Been attacked by a wild animal. Fallen, impaled himself on a tree or a rock. Shot by someone hunting. Maybe someone here. Seth? Could Seth have mistaken him for an animal and accidentally killed him? Or maybe Seth had found Dewey’s body lying somewhere on the property and brought it back here to be buried. Yet if that was the case, why hadn’t he told anyone about it? Especially Rachel, who was worried about why Dewey hadn’t come…and me who wanted to go home.

Maybe someone doesn’t want you to leave.

My hands tightened around the shovel again, slippery with sweat; my mind spinning back, full circle. Who then? Girlie? Just last night she had told me she never wanted me to leave. Seth? Because of what had happened between us? But how could I really trust Seth, even now? How could I
really
be certain? Outwardly, he acted no different toward me now than he had before—
“Ask Seth…he’s the one.”
—Oh Franny, what were you trying to say?

As for Rachel, she hadn’t wanted me to leave because she’d desperately needed my comfort and friendship, yet she’d also understood my yearning to go home. My mind ticked off possibilities, then slowed, growing uneasy.
Franny.
Franny had been angry with me, hadn’t wanted me to leave without taking her along. But lately she’d seemed to have forgiven me; we’d been friends again. And then sadly I thought of Micah. Yes, it
could
have been Micah…Micah whose plans to kill me had been spoiled by Seth…Micah who might have only been waiting for another chance—a chance that would never come again if Dewey arrived to take me away.

My thoughts were going out of control. If Micah had killed Dewey, he would have had to have done it before his own death. Then, where had Dewey’s body been until now? I knew for a fact that there hadn’t been any other new graves here except Micah’s on the day of the funeral. Had Seth found it since then, maybe abandoned somewhere in the woods where Micah had left it? Then why hadn’t he buried Dewey away from here, along with Micah’s other victims? Had he intended to keep it a secret forever, never telling Rachel why Dewey never came, letting her wonder why they never saw him again?

There was one other possibility, of course.

I forced a sob down in my throat and slapped the dirt hard with the back of the shovel, packing it down as if I could keep that awful thing from ever clawing its way free. It was a possibility that had whispered to me all along, raising gooseflesh along my arms, making me glance continuously over my shoulder to check the shadows, the trees, the drifts of snow, each silent shape-shifter.

Dewey could have been killed since the funeral…
no!
—killed by hands that had groped and clawed up from the blackness…
no!
—spirited out by the haunting voice of a child…
oh God no, I won’t think this way…I won’t!
—propelled down a dark hallway, into a bedroom where Franny had slept and screamed a soundless scream…
hello, Franny, I’m back just like you wanted…

“No!”
My voice shattered the silence, and I scrambled for the lantern, not bothering to cover it, only wanting to get away, to run, to escape from this hellish place and find a world that was safe, where people were normal and things made sense.

“Seth!” I cried, and I was running through the woods, tripping over the shovel as it dragged clumsily, weighing me down, and I couldn’t imagine what had happened to him, why he had been gone for so long, why I needed him so much…

I had thought it was Seth at first. Back there mangled in the coffin. Before I’d had a chance to really see the face, before I’d even had time to react, I’d had the horrible feeling that it was Seth lying there, and my heart had died a thousand deaths, unable to take the pain of losing someone one more time.

“Seth,” I gasped, breaking through the trees at last, extinguishing the lantern as I ran because the sky was growing lighter now, pale enough to see by, and how would I ever, ever be able to explain what I’d just done—what I’d just found—the unspeakable horror of it all—

I flung everything into the barn and ran toward the house, my mind frantically trying to retrace the steps I’d taken in the dark—the floorboards to avoid—the walls not to touch. For all I knew Rachel might be up this very minute, watching from her window, standing by her door, ear to the crack, listening…wondering.

I didn’t even stop to check on Franny. I went by Girlie’s door without a word. I saw her again, a slip of shadow poised to flee, that strangely unreadable glow in her huge eyes.
Why did you run so, Girlie, did you realize at last what you’d done?
I shut my door behind me and braced my back against it, heart pounding.

I will bring something back…

Unable to control my trembling, I crawled beneath the covers, my body stiff from wet and cold, burning from overworked muscles. I still felt the imprint of the shovel in my hands. I still smelled the stench of death.

My eyes wandered to the window, remembering other times I’d stood there looking out, alerted by movements slipping stealthily through the trees. Something—someone—had watched me then. Was it watching me now?

Dawn came, bringing a soft flurry of snow, and I watched it numbly, knowing it would fall upon the graveyard and hide my desecration.

Exhaustion crept over me…a slow buffer of shock between me and the truth…

Through a haze I heard Girlie talking to herself as she moved about in her room next to mine.

For Franny there would be no morning.

And where was Micah?

P
AM…PAM…CAN YOU
hear me?

“Seth!”

I bolted up in bed, my heart slamming, terror thick in my throat. I didn’t remember dozing off, yet from the farthest fading edges of sleep, I could hear it still—a scream—an awful, agonized scream—and my eyes darted wildly around the room, my ears probing the cold, early silence of day.

I thought I’d heard Seth calling me.

And then someone had screamed.

Oh, Seth…

The kitchen was deserted when I went down. I assumed Rachel was in the barn and sat down to wait for her. When half an hour went by and she didn’t return, I got worried and went out to look for her. She wasn’t in any of the places she should have been. After a thorough search of the yard and all the outbuildings I came back into the house and made a quick inspection of all the rooms.

I still wasn’t prepared for Franny. Even though I knew nothing had changed, still, it was heartbreaking to walk in and see her like that, curled in a knot with her terror locked inside her. I ducked my head and left again at once, trying to compose myself as I finished my search of the upstairs. Rachel wasn’t anywhere, and with a growing sense of alarm I went back to the kitchen, finding Girlie perched precariously on a stool, reaching for a bowl of eggs.

“I’ll do that,” I said sharply, afraid she’d fall, and as I snatched the bowl from her hand, the hurt in her eyes stabbed through me like a knife. Strangely unsettled, I motioned for her to sit at the table. I wasn’t sure of what I was feeling; I wasn’t sure of anything. Rachel’s absence loomed around me like the darkest kind of omen.

“Do you know where Rachel went?” I asked Girlie, but as she shook her head, I noticed a scrap of paper tucked halfway under the back door. My eyes flew to the washstand where a pad and pencil lay. The loose sheet must have blown off when I’d opened and shut the door. Picking it up now, I saw that it was a note.

GONE TO FIND SETH.

RACHEL

I stared at it for several seconds, then lowered it thoughtfully. The writing was scribbled as if she’d been in a great hurry. I wondered why she hadn’t bothered to tell me herself. But I knew, as she must have known, that I’d only have begged to go with her. And we couldn’t all leave; someone had to stay here with Franny and Girlie.

Girlie took a long time with her breakfast. We didn’t speak, but a tension hung between us that was almost painful. Once I caught her looking at me, but when I gazed back at her she dropped her eyes and played listlessly with her food. She hardly ate a bite.

The morning dragged on. The sky clouded up again, fleecy patches of dun wool, and its gloominess pervaded the house. I sat in Franny’s room for a while, waiting for, praying for a change, but as the hours drew out, I could feel myself growing increasingly nervous at her blank stare and I finally had to leave. My nerves were taut. I paused in the upstairs hall acutely aware of the crushing silence. No one had bothered to wind the clock in the parlor. Time came to a wary standstill.

I stirred the fire in the fireplace, rubbing my arms against the room’s chill, against the excruciating unease that gripped me. Every noise was a danger. A branch scraped the window, and I cried out, expecting to see Micah staring lifelessly in at me…or Dewey grinning maggots where his mouth should have been.

Dinnertime came and went and still no sign of Rachel. I thought of Seth, gone for so long now, and my heart sickened with fear. I was sure now, as Rachel was, that something had happened to him—something horrible.
There’s no betrayal in this world…

And yet there was…there had been.

All of us had betrayed someone…something…

All of us but Rachel.

And now she was out there…alone.

I made a split-second decision and called Girlie downstairs. “Dress warm—”

“Where are we going?” Her face was troubled.

“To find Rachel. Hurry now.”

She cast me a questioning look but did as I said. While she wrestled into her coat, I fought a quick moral battle with myself. I felt guilty leaving Franny, but there was nothing, really, that I could do. She didn’t know anything, and I had no idea what herbal concoctions Rachel had been feeding her. With any luck we’d be back before supper. But in the meantime Rachel was wandering out there unprotected.

“Come on, let’s go.”

I pulled on a jacket and shut the door behind us. The farm lay silent and empty, like a ghost town, and I nudged Girlie into a trot as we started off.

We slowed down before we’d gone half a mile. The cold seeped through our lungs, burning, and I gasped for breath as if I’d been sprinting a race. Girlie slowed to a near crawl. I nudged her again, and she stopped. Several steps ahead of her I paused, then turned around and stood there, waiting.

“Come on,” I said. “We have to hurry.”

She shook her head, not meeting my eyes.

“We don’t want to be out after dark,” I reminded her.

Her shoulders moved slightly but still she wouldn’t look at me.

“They may be in trouble, Girlie. Seth and Rachel might need us.”

Nothing. She stood there, head bowed.

Sighing, I went back to her, squatted down to her eye level though she still avoided me. “All right, what is it? What’s wrong?”

A long silence. Then a timid little voice trembled, “Micah can’t sleep—”

“Stop that!” I screamed. I grabbed her so suddenly that her head snapped back, lolling forward again onto her chest as if it were broken. “Stop that! You stop saying that, and tell me where he is.”

“I…I…” Her teeth began to chatter, her voice lost somewhere deep in her throat. “I…I…”

“What!” Another shake, harder, her head snapping like my nerves were snapping. “You
what
!”

“I…I…didn’t…wake…him.”

My hands froze on her shoulders. I was aware of her bones beneath my fingers—small and brittle like a bird’s “You—what?” My voice grew quiet. At last her great eyes lifted, drank me in.

“You think I did. But I didn’t.” Her confession sank to a whisper, and I stared at her, unblinking.

“Then where is he?” I asked in a whisper of my own.

“Gone.”

So I
had
been at the right place, after all…it had all been real. “I know he’s gone.” Impatience made my voice crack. “I saw that he’s gone. But where is he now? How did he get out?”

She looked at me intently, as if reading my lips, as if not quite sure of my question.

I tried again. “Girlie, there’s somebody else in Micah’s grave, so Micah has to be somewhere else. Now tell me where he is. Do you know?”

Her solemn eyes filled mine. “He’s with Seth,” she said.

My heart leapt inside me, a premonition of fear and horror, and though a thousand impossible questions came to mind, I took her hand and jumped up. “Show me,” I said, and we began to run as if running for our lives.

The miles trailed out behind us, lost in the mazes of the woodlands, the slopes and angles and ridges of the hills. Though I knew this was the way I had been before with Seth, nothing looked even remotely familiar to me now, shrouded in the gloomy afternoon and a deceiving mantle of snow. For hours it seemed, we walked. I lost all sense of direction, all track of time. Yet Girlie floundered on through the drifts and mounds, some special sense guiding her without need of landmark or compass. And she seemed to be tireless. I lost count of the many times I had to stop and catch my breath, while she waited politely for me, barely even winded. As we tramped through the hills I called loudly, “Rachel! Seth!” and the wind caught my cries and tossed them back at me; across the snowy fields and pastures I called their names, straining for an answer, some movement, the slightest sign of life, but there was nothing, nothing at all, and the premonition grew inside me, snuffing out hope with black, icy fingers.

I had no idea what could have happened to them. Not to Seth who’d been gone now nearly three days; not to Rachel who’d been gone a matter of hours. I knew that sound traveled much farther on a wintry day; they should have heard me miles away, heard me and answered back. But the hills were silent, silent…cold and silent as death.

He’s with Seth…with Seth…
And with every step my mind conjured horrible thoughts, unspeakable thoughts—
did Seth take Micah’s body…and why?
But Girlie moved on, far ahead of me, and there was no time now for asking questions, no time to do anything but run, and hurry, and shout the names that refused to answer.