The Fall of Never (18 page)

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Authors: Ronald Malfi

BOOK: The Fall of Never
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“Yes, she is.” He turned away from her again and looked back out over the forest below. “Just like you, Kelly. Always looking for adventure, always out seeking for something, always keeping busy. What do you suppose she looks for out there?”

“I don’t know.”

“What was it
you
were looking for?”

She thought of her childhood, of hiding in the woods by herself, keeping herself occupied with one thing or another. There’d been the bird book that one summer, and she’d taken to cataloguing birds. Or the toy boats she used to sail in the little stream. Always alone, always keeping busy. Alone…

“I don’t remember,” she told him, which was partially true, although she thought,
I was looking for companionship. I was looking for someone to spend time with me. I was looking for what I never received from you and Mom.

“Did you ever find it, do you think?”

“I can’t remember that, either. Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he agreed. “It’s nice to think so, isn’t it?”

“She’s going to come out of it, Dad. And they’ll catch the person who did this.”

“Yes,” her father said, though without much conviction. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he turned and pushed past her, making his way toward the house. She watched him go and, for the briefest moment, she saw him hesitate just as he made the turn as if he’d suddenly remembered something he wanted to say…but then he continued on his way, not stopping to look back.

Still cold, she breathed warmth into her hands and passed along the fence of the dog pen. Several of the large, black dogs poked their heads up again, watched her pass.

“Don’t you boys get cold out here? Doesn’t seem like those little houses keep you very warm.”

There was something small and dead half-buried in the ground on the other side of the pen, Kelly saw. A squirrel, it looked like. Dumb thing must have found its way into the pen, most likely attracted by the smell of the dog food, and before it knew what hit it, Rotley’s Dobermans had undoubtedly pounced.

An image broke through her mental veil: a stairway banister laden with the skulls of tiny forest creatures—squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits, mice. A dark, narrow stairwell leading neither up nor down, just
there,
like a bridge in need of crossing but attached to no land. Darkness. Canted, distorted walls. A floor made of…of…

A floor sometimes made of wood, sometimes made of leaves and dirt and earth…and sometimes littered with broken plastic forks,
she thought suddenly, not fully understanding where such a memory—and was it even a memory?—had come from.

Plastic forks.

There’d been a broken plastic fork on the floor of Becky’s bedroom. And the connection between the two didn’t sit well with her, suddenly putting her on edge and making her nervous all over again. A broken plastic fork—it meant nothing to her, yet it suddenly scared the hell out of her.

A chill passed through her, and it wasn’t due to the cold.

She looked down the slope of the great valley, looked down into the black forest of trees. She’d spent most of her childhood hidden behind the veil of those firs, grew up there like a wood elf. Sailing boats in streams and watching birds and building forts and…

And broken plastic forks,
her mind returned to her.

She backed away from the side of the hill, turned away from the trees and the sloping green valley, now powdered with frost.

Get back inside before you lose your mind out here,
that same head-voice spoke up.
And when Becky’s doctor gets here, it might not be a bad idea to suggest he give you a full examination, too. Maybe see a psychiatrist.

No, she didn’t need a psychiatrist. She just needed to get inside.

 

A young man with flowers stood on the front porch. As Kelly turned the corner of the house, the young man saw her the same moment she saw him and there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes, yet there and then gone just as quick as the report of a pistol.

The young man recognized her too. He quickly dismounted from the porch and moved almost hesitantly toward her, his eyes a mix of emotion, his features somehow growing more and more familiar with each step he took toward her.

From nowhere, Kelly pictured a set of bloody knees.

“Is…my God,
Kelly?”
the young man said, and she suddenly knew him in the instant that followed.

“Gabriel?”

It
was
him, now all grown up and a man. A
handsome
man. His eyes were bright and thick with lashes, his hair impossibly curly and cropped short. He was perhaps a bit thin, but he carried himself with great purpose.

Gabriel…

He paused just two feet in front of her. His lips decided on a smile, though it was an awkward and confused one. He said, “I don’t believe it,” and reached out to hug her with clumsy forcefulness, the handful of flowers pressed against her back. She returned his hug then allowed him to pull away. With some amusement, she watched his eyes skirt up and down her body, that awkward smile still firm on his face. “Guess you went and grew up, huh? I can’t believe it. You look good, Kelly.”

“You too,” she said.
Gabriel Farmer,
she thought.

“I didn’t know you were coming home. When did you get in?”

“Last night.”

“I just…” He was at a loss for words. Looking down, he pulled the bundle of flowers apart and handed half the arrangement to Kelly. “Here. I don’t think Becky would object.”

“You came to see her?”

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what else to say. Is she awake yet?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Soon, though,” he said.

“Yes. I think so. She’s sleeping, but she looks strong, you know? Healthy.”

“That’s good.”

“You still come around the house?” she asked him. In her own head she sounded giddy and beseeching, like a child.

“I do some work for your father on occasion. Mostly painting and yard work here and there.” He shrugged. “I’m still in town, might as well pick up what work I can.”

“The way you used to talk, I would have guessed you’d be far from Spires by now.” And thought,
Damn it, am I trying to insult him?

“I guess I picked up a different track along the way.”

“Are you still painting?” She almost asked a more personal question, but noticed his ring finger was naked at the last second. “Other than houses, I mean.”

“Yes,” he said, “still plugging away. I actually had a small showing in the city last month. Nothing big, but it was something.”

“Damn, you should have looked me up. I didn’t know.”

“You’re in the city now?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’m so sorry I missed it. I would have loved it.”

“It was exciting.”

“I’m sure it was spectacular.”

“I wish I knew about you,” he said. “Being in the city, I mean. I would have loved for you to be there.”

She rubbed her shoulders and said, “It’s cold, let’s go inside.”

 

As a child, she first spied Gabriel through a thicket of trees. He’d been playing in the woods by himself—as was she—when she heard someone sobbing. She followed the sound through the thicket and happened upon a meek, wild-haired boy in square eyeglasses fighting back tears by the edge of the small brook that ran through the woods. Both his knees were cut and bleeding and he had managed to tear off a section of his filthy T-shirt, dip it in the cool brook water, and dab at his bloodied knees.

She stepped on a fallen branch and he jerked his head up. He saw her standing between the trees, a little forest nymph. Something inside her made her blush, like someone caught eavesdropping, and she unconsciously backed up a step. The boy watched her, his eyes swimming behind the thick lenses of his glasses, unmoving.

“Hello,” she nearly whispered. “Did you get hurt?”

“I fell,” the boy said. He pointed up and behind him where he—or someone—had tied a cut log to a rope suspended from a high tree branch. A makeshift swing.

“You’re hurt,” she said, stepping out from behind the trees and moving beside him. She caught their reflections in the rippling brook water and thought,
No one ever comes up here in these woods. Kids from town are afraid of these woods.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said. He finished blotting his cut knees and wrung the wet piece of cloth over the water.

“Did you tie that swing up in that tree?”

The boy nodded.

“How did you get all the way up there?”

“I climbed.”

“That whole tree?”

“Just up to the branch.” He pointed to the branch tied with the piece of rope. “See?”

“That’s pretty high up,” she marveled.

“It’s not so high. I can climb higher.”

“Higher than that? Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall again?”

He just shook his head and puffed his chest out the slightest bit. He was a small thing, more fragile than she, and his body was covered in a barrage of scrapes, cuts, and bruises. Now, his ruddy face grew red. “I can climb to the top.”

“Wow,” she said, craning her neck back to look up. The top was a
hundred
feet high if it was an inch, she hypothesized. “You’ve climbed to the top before?”

The boy thought this over before shaking his head. Even at such a young age, there was ample intelligence and a mature sense of peace in his eyes. “Well, no, not yet. But I’ve been practicing. I climb up a little at a time, and each time I go up some more and up some more and pretty soon I’ll make it to the top. Just not yet.”

“You should be careful,” she told him. “You could fall and hurt yourself again.”

“You too.”

“Me too what? What do you mean?”

Hesitantly, he pointed at her forehead. “You’re bleeding, too,” he said.

 

 

Gabriel Farmer followed Kelly into the house. In the kitchen he gave Glenda a quick hug and helped her place Becky’s flowers in a crystal vase. Kelly arranged her own bouquet in a second vase, very conscious of the fact that Gabriel was watching her from the corner of his eye.

“Is Mr. Kellow around?” Gabriel asked.

“Always around,” Glenda said. “Here and there.”

“He was outside this morning,” Kelly said.

“He must still be looking for Mr. Rotley,” Glenda said, placing the crystal vase on the kitchen table and wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “There,” she said complacently, “that looks beautiful. Such a thoughtful boy, Mr. Farmer. I’m sure Becky will cherish them once she wakes up.”

“Do you think I could peek in at her?”

Kelly saddled up beside him. “I’ll take you up.”

“Ahhh, now,” Glenda said, smiling. “You two together—it’s like you’re both children all over again. Didn’t she grow up to be so beautiful, Gabriel?”

His face turning red, Gabriel said, “Yes. Quite beautiful.”

“Who would have thought, right?” Kelly snickered and winked at Glenda. “Come on,” she said, and led him upstairs.

Becky’s door was unlocked and Kelly eased it open. Gabriel followed her inside. The room was stale and stuffy. Kelly quickly became aware of Gabriel’s aftershave, of his broad yet delicate presence stepping across the plush carpet behind her. They both stopped at the side of Becky’s bed.

“There,” Gabriel said, “she’s looking better today.”

“Today? You’ve seen her before?”

“I was here the night they found her. I was helping the police search.”

“They found her that night?”

He frowned at her slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, looked down at her sister. Yes, her bruises were clearing up. Who could hurt such a precious child? Who in their right mind could even fashion laying a hand upon her? “I was just under the impression that she was found the next morning. I didn’t realize they found her the same night she disappeared.”

“Oh,” he said, “not the same night. Sorry, you misunderstood. This was the
next
night. That’s when the police found her in the woods.”

“The
next
night? Like…like she’d been missing for twenty-four hours before she was found?”

“Yes. Didn’t you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

He looked suddenly pale. “I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t open my mouth with something…”

“No, it’s not you, nothing you said. I just didn’t realize it, that’s all.”

“Didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay,” she insisted. Thinking she felt a slight draft, she looked up from Becky and at the window, but it was closed. “No one told me that, that’s all. And she wasn’t far from the house?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Just a little way into the woods.”

“And it took twenty-four hours to locate her?” Her tone was becoming angry; there was no use hiding it. Twenty-four hours—she wasn’t stupid. She knew what that meant, knew why it had taken twenty-four hours. “Gabriel, when did they
start
looking for her? Do you know?”

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