Temptation: A Novel (18 page)

53. Petrified

After changing into a set of clothes that belonged to Gus a few years ago—clothes that are still way too big on me—I walk out into the main room with the immense fireplace and the hanging animal heads. Staunch is on the sofa smoking a cigar, looking comfortable.

“Sit down, boy.”

The way he says
boy
makes me nervous.

“Sorry I don’t have anything else, but Gus is a porker. Has been since he was little and his mother gave him too many treats to eat. Stopped his crying, but didn’t stop his belly from growing.”

I want to ask about Mrs. Staunch but don’t dare.

“Please, Chris, sit. Go on.”

I sit on the leather couch across from him. There is a huge coffee table between us with a variety of things on it, including a big leather book of some sort.

“Yeah, that’s what I want to show you,” he says, putting his cigar in an ashtray and picking up the book. “It’s a scrapbook of sorts. I want you to look through it.”

It’s a heavy book, so I leave it on the table and open the thick leather cover to see a page with handwriting that says
Kinner
.

My mom’s maiden name.

The scrapbook turns out to be a photo album. The first page has a small black-and-white picture of a couple. Good-looking couple, dressed up. Maybe on their wedding day or honeymoon.

Samuel Tapson Kinner and Nellie Henrietta Solitaire, 1856.

There’s that last name again.

Solitaire.

The same name that was on the gravestone in the church in the middle of nowhere.

So this is a picture of my great-great-great-however-great-grandparents?

“That is the first Kinner,” Staunch says, biting on his cigar. It doesn’t appear lit. “That’s the first picture I’ve been able to locate. And I’ve tried
hard.
”

“Kinner.”

“Yep. Same spelling and everything.”

For the next few minutes, I’m looking through the years at pictures of men and women. None of the names or faces mean anything to me, but I keep looking, acting like this interests me.

The only thing I really want to do is get out of Gus’s clothes.

I turn a page and see a kid with light-colored hair sitting on a beach.

“Hold it,” Staunch says, then he turns the photo album, looking at me and then at the pic. “Yeah, sure, I can see it.”

“See what?”

“The resemblance. A bit.”

The boy in the picture doesn’t look anything like me, but whatever.

“That, Chris, is your great-grandfather.”

I see the words written in black ink.

Walter Robert Kinner, b. 1921.

“Chris—Walter is still alive.”

“What?”

“Yes.”

He takes the photo album from me before I can see any more. Then he stands.

“Listen—I have to mingle and do my thing. You be a good boy and stick around. Hear me?”

I nod.

“I want to introduce you to your great-grandpoppy.”

“He’s here?”

“No, not in this house. But yes, Chris. He’s around. Just wait until the party is over. Stick around.”

A short while later I’m finally managing to eat the brisket, but suddenly I’m not hungry anymore. All I can think about is having to stick around here until later, whenever that might be. I think about this supposed relative I’m going to meet.

Last time I met a cousin, that didn’t work out too great for me.

But another part of me wonders why Staunch would lie to me.

If I’m “important” for whatever reason, maybe it’s because I really do have a great-grandfather who is somehow connected to the history of the town.

But so what?

Maybe I’m going to get a huge inheritance of money and shrunken goat heads.

The corn bread tastes thick and the beans taste goopy.

I so don’t have an appetite.

I make small talk with some people, including a few kids from school, but I wish that I had decided to bring someone. Mainly Lily.

I text her to see what she’s doing.

It takes a while to get a reply.

SO YOU’RE NOT GOING TO LEAVE ME ALONE, HUH?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
I ask her again.

SPENT THE DAY SHOPPING IN DOWNTOWN SOLITARY.

REALLY?

NO
she sends back. Then quickly adds
WHAT ARE YOU DOING TONIGHT? CAN YOU SEE ME?

I’M AT A PARTY.

I WANT TO SEE YOU
she types back.
DOESN’T MATTER WHAT TIME.

It’s good that she wants to see me. And everything in me wants to see her. It’s just—I’m still annoyed at her. Still unsure about her history and her secrets and not sure I want to go there.

Who cares about her secrets? Don’t ask, don’t tell.

CHRIS?

YEAH.

I WANT YOU.

I look at the text and wonder if she left off “to see” in it.

I feel something stirring inside of me as I read those three words.

I REALIZE THAT NOW
another text from Lily reads.

I’m not sure what to say.

I just know I’m definitely not hungry anymore for beef brisket.

YOU THERE?

YEAH
I type with a nervous hand.

I’LL BE HERE
she says.
WHATEVER TIME WORKS. IF IT WORKS.

OKAY.

BUT CHRIS—I WANT TO SEE YOU BEFORE SCHOOL STARTS. TO GET THINGS STRAIGHTENED OUT.

HOW?
I ask.

YOU’LL SEE.

I was already nervous about later tonight.

Now I’m petrified.

54. Cold and Soft and Dead

I follow his footsteps through the towering trees along a narrow path that I can’t even see but trust is there below me. The flashlight Staunch carries doesn’t even stay on the path, but rather bounces around the trees. The woods around here always feel dense, but tonight they feel suffocating.

“Come on,” he says in a low voice. “Keep up with me.”

We’ve been walking for ten or fifteen minutes. I keep thinking that he’s taking me out to kill me and be done with me for good.

But he could have done that easily some time ago.

I wonder if something’s going to jump out at me. Some figure in a dark robe, some figure holding a knife or a gun. Or maybe an animal will attack.

The night air is cooler and I feel it against my sweaty neck. I’ve got Gus’s pants gripped by one hand to hold them up. It’s seriously so dark.

They’re all going to be there—everyone from the party, but now they’ll be wearing sacrifice garb.

“Here—right up there,” Staunch tells me.

This path leads upward from the Staunch mansion. For a moment I expect another little log cabin like the one behind my house, but I see something in the clearing that says this is different.

I can only make out an outline in the darkness, but it looks like a massive stone … castle?

But no, it’s not a castle. And whatever it is, it’s not all there.

It’s half caved in, whatever this is.

The structure in front of me makes that run-down shack that I discovered, the one containing Marsh’s belongings, look to be in great shape. There’s not really even a structure to look at. It’s more just some stone arches that were once part of a larger house long ago.

“This is the original house that Solitaire built after settling down here,” Staunch says as he stops and shines his light over the walls.

It looks like something out of ancient Greece or Rome, something from the
Gladiator
movie.

“This house was supposed to be fireproof, though only the rock turned out to be so.”

We walk through one of the arches, with Staunch now shining the light on the ground.

“Be careful—follow me closely,” he says.

I do as I’m told and follow him to the center of the area around the stone arches. I can see a little better with the help of the moonlight above. The half-crumbled stone walls look like crouching beasts around us.

Staunch shines a light on my face, blinding me. I close my eyes.

“Stay here. He’ll show up in a minute,” Staunch says.

I open my mouth to protest.

You’re right—you
are
going to be sacrificed, but this time your great-granddaddy is going to do it.

“Wait—what do you mean he’ll show up in a minute? My great-grandfather?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Staunch says. “Here, take this.”

He hands me the flashlight.

“But I—what if I—I’m not sure how—”

“Shut up and stay here,” he says.

I watch him walk away, back underneath those tall arches and into the woods.

I’m left in the dark. In the middle of these hollowed-out ruins of some house that burned down.

Now it’s where they burn stupid, silly seventeen-year-old boys who want answers to questions they should never have asked.

I feel the cool breeze and fold up my arms and wait. Clouds block the moon for a brief moment. The sounds of night circle around me. Somewhere nearby, an owl hoots.

It’s a terrifying sound, to be honest.

Then I hear something directly in front of me.

As if it’s been there since we walked in.

Something cold touches my arm. Something cold and soft and dead feeling.

Then the voice comes and I know.

I know exactly what it’s going to sound like.

“Chrissssssss.”

I jerk back and then lose my footing and nearly fall backward. I stand up and look around but can only see darkness.

Of course that’s the voice of my wonderful long-lost great-grandfather.

“I’m right here,” the old voice says to me.

Make that ancient voice.

I shiver and squint my eyes and I can make him out. A figure standing there hunched over.

“The time has come, my son.”

I need to start breathing again so I can feel my body and so that body can start to make a sprint toward anywhere but here.

“You have a mission now,” the grainy, creepy voice says to me.

I want to ask what, but I can’t speak.

I want to turn on the flashlight, but I can’t move my fingers.

I want to do anything, but I really can’t.

I’m too scared.

“There is nothing to be afraid of in the dark. They will come to fear you like they fear me. You will go out and you will do big things. And these people and this town will be like this house we’re standing in.”

I exhale with a tremble and lean in to look at his face. I want to see this man or creature or whatever it is.

But he’s gone.

It’s gone.

I wave my hand out and then I turn on the flashlight, but I don’t see anybody. No trace or sign.

Nothing.

Nothing but bubbling, raging fear deep inside of me.

55. Breathturn

I’m sitting on the steps leading up to our house, not wanting to go inside, not wanting to stay out here. I’m shivering, but I’m not cold. I’m breathing fast, but I’m standing still.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been outside.

I’m not sure of anything.

Then again, when have I been sure of
anything
since arriving here?

I don’t hear the car engine, but I do hear the door shutting somewhere below in the dark. I just sit and wait. If they’ve come to get me—the bad guys or the shrinks or the priests—then so be it. Let them.

But instead I see an angel walking up my driveway.

She wears shorts and a tank top and she holds her arms as if she’s cold. When she reaches the edge of where I’m sitting, she just stares at me.

If I could have any superpower, it would be to read the minds of girls. Then and only then I’d be indestructible.

She walks closer to me and reaches out to take my hands.

Suddenly I’m not thinking of the house up the road. Or the mother up the stairs. Or great freaking gramps hovering around somewhere. Or anything else except these soft hands touching mine, then touching my cheeks, then holding my head gently and moving it toward hers.

Lily doesn’t say anything as she leans over and kisses me.

I kiss her back and try to make up for the lost kisses I’ve wanted and dreamed about. To make up for the lost time I’ve spent avoiding her for some reason I couldn’t honestly tell her.

As I reach out in hungry teenage desperation, Lily moves away for a moment and then whispers to me.

“Chris—let’s take it slow.”

I nod, but I don’t want to wait on anything anymore, including this.

“Just—give it time,” she says. “Not now, not tonight.”

But then she kisses me as if to make a promise.

I wish I could make the kiss last the night.

“I don’t want to leave you tonight,” Lily tells me, looking down at me in a way that I haven’t seen before.

Not trying to look glamorous or sexy or seductive. But looking just like—like a girl who’s a bit lost and even more confused.

“I thought—”

“Just because I said I want to take it slow doesn’t mean I don’t want to stay with you.”

I’m not sure how to answer this because—well, this hasn’t really happened before.

“Can I sit next to you?” she asks.

And I feel like a moron, apologizing and then moving over so she can fit next to me on the step. I see her shiver, and I put my arm around her. Lily leans into me and gets comfortable.

“Yeah, just like that,” she says. “Is this okay?”

I nod, suddenly feeling like—like somebody. Like a man. Like a protector.

“I want to just stay like this for a long time,” Lily says softly.

“Me too.”

So we do.