The Eternal Ones (3 page)

“Then maybe we should work at my house tonight.” The boy straightened his posture and plastered a pleasant smile on his face. “Mrs. Snively. Mrs. Moore,” he said as he opened the front door and let the two women pass, the younger trailing the older like a shadow.

“Hey there, Beau.” Haven’s mother couldn’t hide her embarrassment, and her forced smile looked more like a grimace. “You have to leave so soon? I was just fixing to make some supper.”

Imogene turned a hard eye on her daughter. “Let the boy go, Mae. We’ve got things to discuss as a family.”

“I appreciate the invitation, ma’am,” Beau said, gracefully pretending he hadn’t heard the old lady. “But I do need to leave. My dad’s probably wanting his lunch by now. Six o’clock suit you, Haven?”

“Sure.” Haven managed a weak smile, already dreading what she knew would come next.

As soon as the door shut, Haven’s grandmother wheeled around to face her. “Haven, you want to come with me to my sitting room? Mae, would you excuse us?”

Neither sentence was a question. Haven looked to her mother, who stood frozen with indecision, trying to determine whether this was a battle she should choose to fight. Haven knew there was no point waiting for her mother to come to her rescue. Mae Moore could stay frozen for weeks at a time.

 

HAVEN AND HER grandmother assumed their usual positions in the sitting room. In her high, wingback chair Imogene Snively sat with the pinched nose and perfect posture of a meerkat. Haven sank into the center of the overstuffed sofa. On the table between them, a lush bouquet of wildflowers that Mae Moore had gathered slowly suffocated Haven with its cloying scent.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for someone in your condition to keep spending time with that Decker boy?”

Haven snorted and shook her head, half relieved that they were still on familiar ground. “He’s gay, Imogene. It’s hardly contagious. And what
condition
are you talking about? So I fainted. Big deal. You know I forget to eat when I’m working. Or who knows, maybe I’m pregnant.”

Imogene’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not well, Haven.”

“I feel perfectly fine.”

“You know that’s not what I mean. You remember what you said during your fit?”

She didn’t.

“You said, ‘Ethan.’ ”

Haven tried not to panic, but she felt herself beginning to flush, and she knew the telltale crimson blotches would soon follow. There was no way her grandmother would miss them.

“When did you start having the visions again?”

“I haven’t had any visions. I just passed out, that’s all.”

“You’re lying, Haven. I can always tell. And I won’t let you go off to college if you’re seeing and hearing—”

“But
Grandma
—”

“Don’t interrupt me. Dr. Tidmore and I had a talk after church today. I want him to see if he can stop all this before it gets out of control again. I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay here with us a while longer.”

“But Grandma,” Haven pleaded, her desperation growing. As she scooted forward to the edge of her seat, her knees knocked the coffee table and the flower vase nearly toppled. “I swear there’s nothing wrong. It’s been forever since I fainted. This was just a freak accident. You can’t stop me from going to school in the fall.”

“I can’t let you go, Haven. You’re not strong enough to resist. The sins of the flesh are a constant temptation.”

Haven pinned her hands beneath her thighs before they could throw Imogene’s vase across the room. “So they say,” she muttered under her breath. Over the years, she had heard stories about her grandmother’s wild ways in the years before she found the Lord. The six-month span between her grandparents’ wedding and the birth of their daughter seemed to confirm at least one of the rumors. But Haven had never summoned the courage to confront Imogene with the facts.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” Haven said miserably.

“I thought so,” Imogene said. “You
are
your father’s child, Haven. And you saw what happened to your daddy when he couldn’t resist the demon of lust. I’m sorry, but it’s my job to protect you.”

She wasn’t sorry. That much was clear. Haven stood up and glared down at the old woman. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to keep me here?” she asked in a slow, steady voice.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, Haven, and tell me if I need an excuse.”

Haven reluctantly turned toward the mirror over the fireplace. The flush had scaled her neck, and she watched in horror as it crept over her cheeks.

“I’m calling that Fashion Institute in the morning. They’ll refund our payment when I tell them you’re ill. And may I remind you, Haven, I am your legal guardian. Until you are eighteen, you’re my responsibility.”

Haven’s eighteenth birthday was ten months away.

In the town below, a half dozen cars and twice as many pickup trucks had converged on a gas station. Kids still dressed in their church clothes milled about the parking lot, sipping well-disguised beers and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes. It was a Sunday tradition in Snope City. Later, after the sun sank behind the mountains, the same vehicles would be seen cruising downtown in endless loops that could leave an observer feeling dizzy and disoriented. Though she could see it all from her bedroom window, Haven had never taken part in the rituals. She pretended she didn’t care, but the truth was, she’d never been invited.

Somewhere in that crowd was Morgan Murphy, the girl responsible for making Haven an outcast eight years earlier. The two had been best friends until the day Haven had fainted in front of the entire fourth grade. When she had woken, she’d told Morgan about the boy named Ethan whom she missed more than anything and the visions that could overpower her at the very worst moments. Haven watched the confusion creeping across Morgan’s pretty face, and she knew she should have heeded Imogene’s warnings and never mentioned the things that she saw. But Haven didn’t stop. Angry and hurt, she kept on talking until Morgan knew the whole story.

No one said a thing to her face. She was Imogene Snively’s granddaughter, after all. But the sleepover invitations stopped coming. Other kids whispered that she was crazy. That she’d said dirty things. Even grown-ups who might have known better looked at her with fear in their eyes.

At Imogene’s insistence, Haven was forced to spend two afternoons each week in Dr. Tidmore’s office. Her father resisted, but her mother agreed, hoping the new pastor might help them make sense of the things Haven said. Eager to fit into his adopted community, Dr. Tidmore had quickly won the hearts and minds of Snope City. His fiery sermons reminded the town’s old folks of the ones they had heard in their youths, and it was a testament to Tidmore’s popularity that only a few months after his arrival, no one seemed to mind that he was a Yankee.

Tall and gangly, with a thinning patch of red hair and a face that made up in nose what it lacked in chin, Dr. Tidmore sat at his desk, quietly scribbling notes as Haven talked. Away from the pulpit, he was soft-spoken and kind, and it wasn’t long before he had coaxed Haven into repeating the words that had caused so much trouble.

When she did, he didn’t seem shocked. Haven had expected the preacher to gasp or grimace or launch into prayer. Instead, he calmly rose from his chair and came around his big oak desk to give Haven’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. And when Haven had dissolved into tears of relief and embarrassment, the squeeze had become a hug.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time,” Dr. Tidmore had told Haven once her tears had dried. “From what I’ve heard about you, I can tell you’re a very special girl. And special people aren’t always appreciated in small towns like Snope City. But mark my words, Haven. One day you’re going to find a place where you’ll be admired for being different. I know for a fact that you have a great life ahead of you—as long as we can get these visions to stop.”

“Why do I see these things?” Haven had asked.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Tidmore admitted. “Your visions aren’t good or wholesome—that much is certain. But we’re not going to let anything like a little fainting stand in the way of your wonderful future. Are we, Haven?”

“I guess not,” Haven murmured halfheartedly as she stared at the floor.

“Oh, come now,” the preacher had said, taking her chin and lifting it until her eyes met his. “What’s with all the doom and gloom? I’m here to help you! So what do you say? Can I help you, Haven?”

“Yes, you can help me,” Haven had told him, feeling more hopeful than she had in ages.

 

HAVEN’S GRANDMOTHER WASN’T satisfied with Dr. Tidmore’s tender-hearted approach to the problem. It was only a few days later that she delivered her own verdict. Haven was the victim of a demon, she announced to anyone who would listen—and the affliction was a sign. An innocent child should never have drawn such a powerful fiend. The sins of her father were being visited upon her. Imogene instructed the town to pray for Haven. But she warned there would be no salvation until her son-in-law examined his own soul. Ernest Moore, she said, had given Satan access to his own daughter’s heart.

That’s when Haven began to hear the rumors about Veronica Cabe. The woman was the cashier at her father’s hardware store—a buxom redhead who snuck Haven chocolates whenever her parents weren’t watching. During the hours Haven had spent hanging out in the shop, she’d seen Veronica laugh a little too loudly at her father’s corny jokes. And she’d watched Veronica’s eyes trail Ernest from the paint aisle to the nail bins and back again. Everyone in Snope City could see that Veronica Cabe had a crush on her father.

“Veronica likes you,” Haven had once teased him as he drove her to school.

“Oh yeah?” Ernest Moore responded in utter surprise. “What makes you think that?”

“She looks at you like she wants to eat you.”

“Does she now?” Haven’s father had said after a hearty laugh. “Well, I’m pretty sure you’re imagining things, Missy. Besides, Veronica’s smarter than that. Everyone knows I’m a happily married man.”

 

NOW, IN THE EVENINGS, after she’d been put to bed, Haven listened to the muffled sounds of her father arguing and her mother weeping. She knew people were saying that something had happened between her father and Veronica. Though her father swore he was innocent, the town had turned against him. The scandal led Veronica to flee Snope City in shame, and few people shopped at the Moores’ store anymore. They’d travel all the way to Unicoi for a pack of nails or a can of paint. Money was scarce and bills couldn’t be paid. And thanks to Imogene Snively, the whole town believed that Ernest Moore’s sins had brought Satan to Tennessee.

Once the house was dark and silent, Haven practiced controlling her visions. The very first night she heard her parents arguing, she had whispered one last goodbye to Ethan and then set to locking him out of her head. She learned to empty her thoughts the moment she felt the hot flush begin to creep up her legs. She battled the visions whenever they appeared and prayed on her knees that they wouldn’t return.

Haven worked hard, rushing to cure herself before the devil could destroy her family. Eventually her other world grew fainter and fainter until it disappeared altogether. She’d almost managed to forget Ethan’s face when she came home from school one afternoon to find Imogene packing her things in a suitcase. Ernest Moore was dead, and her mother was missing. Imogene had been given custody of Haven, and the girl was moving to her grandmother’s house.

For several months after her father’s death and her mother’s disappearance, Haven developed the curious habit of spying on the citizens of Snope City. She’d hide behind a hedge while Mr. McGuinness mowed his lawn or perch on a tree branch outside Ms. Buncombe’s living room while the old lady watched her stories on an ancient TV. She knew that Mrs. Dietz, who claimed to have a glandular problem, hid her Milky Ways in an empty box of laundry detergent. And she’d seen Mr. Melton visiting his sister-in-law’s house in the middle of the afternoon when his brother was still at work. But it wasn’t just people’s secrets that Haven was after. She suspected they changed when she wasn’t watching—that the face they wore in public was peeled off when no one else was around—and Haven wanted nothing more than to witness the moment when their true natures were revealed.

She had to give up her new hobby when her mother returned to Snope City. There was simply too much work to be done taking care of Mae Moore. Haven knew that her mother had been rushed to the hospital after she heard her husband had been killed in a car crash. While Mae was missing, Haven was told that her mother was sick in the heart. Imogene said it quickly and quietly, as if eager to get the subject out of the way. Haven knew without asking that she wouldn’t be allowed to visit. She imagined her mother lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to wires and IVs as she recovered from a heart attack. But when Mae had finally stepped through the door of Imogene’s house, Haven could see that her body worked perfectly. It was somewhere inside that Mae Moore had broken.

Haven made her mother’s meals twice a day and sat with her as she stared blankly at her oatmeal or scrambled eggs. Eventually Mae began to pick up her own fork. Later she started to talk again. But the real Mae—the one who laughed and danced and sang as she cooked—never really came back. She accepted her wealthy mother’s financial support and even agreed to let Imogene keep custody of Haven. Without a husband, responsibilities, or even a job to keep her busy, Mae Moore became little more than a ghost, condemned to wander the house she’d once escaped by eloping with Ernest Moore.

Practically an orphan, Haven turned to the only person left to trust—Dr. Tidmore. Though it was no longer mandatory, Haven continued to visit the preacher in his office after school. She often brought a few of her latest drawings to show him, which he dutifully examined before announcing that Haven was bound for great things. Sometimes he asked if she’d had any visions, but she always assured him they had stopped. Instead, the two of them talked about the world beyond Snope City. Dr. Tidmore had grown up just north of New York, and he enjoyed recounting his days at college in the city. Haven was astonished to find that she knew when the preacher mixed up his Greenwich Village streets or got his subway stops wrong, but she was very careful not to correct him.