The Prophet of Yonwood (21 page)

She came to the log where shed sat with Grover three days before. Here she looked out over the view of the town. The sky was deep, deep blue, an upside-down ocean of air. Was God up there somewhere, looking down on the whole world at once? Deciding who was good and who wasnt, figuring out what was normal, planning to sweep everything clean? She wanted to know. She wanted to be sure. But this was one area where her overactive imagination didnt seem to work. She simply could not figure out how a being in the sky, no matter how vast he was, could see everywhere. She didnt see why God would say one thing to the Prophet of Yonwood and another thing to another prophet halfway across the world. Because clearly not all these people who said that God spoke to them heard the same thing. All the fighting nations said God was on their side. How could God be on everyones side?

Nickie could only think that either there were lots of different Gods all saying different things to different people, or that God didnt really speak to people at all, or that peoplethought they were hearing God speak when really they were hearing something else.

A bird flew across the sky, level with her line of sight. It lit on the top branch of a pine tree, pointed its beak upward, and sang out a long, warbling burble of notes. Did God speak to birds? Or were birds speaking to God?

She called Otis one more time, shouting his name out into the vast air. No answer. Just the bird, singing its heart out. Suddenly she felt finished here. She was ready to go, ready to get out of this place that made her heart hurt. She took off her backpack and got out Otiss bowls. From her water bottle, she filled his water dish. She poured the crunchies into his food bowl. Both of these she set at the side of the trail, next to the end of the fallen log. Maybe he would find them, or maybe one of the other dogs would, and remember its home, and go on down the trail back to its family.

The bag with her snack in it was still in her backpack. She realized she wasnt hungry. The very thought of food made her stomach clench. So she set the bag on the log. She liked the look of thata present for a dog, and a present for a person. An offering to whoever might need it. Why not make it even nicer? She walked a little way off the trail, poking around in the leaf litter, looking up into the branches. Some pinecones lay beneath a tree, and she picked up the best one, a perfect fat sturdy shape, all its little wooden tabs lined up in a spiral. She went farther, though in the deep shade of the pines the snow still covered the ground, and her shoes sank into it and got wet. She found a bush with red berries and broke off a branch of it. She found a smooth, plum-sized stone patterned with veins of white. She brought these things back to the log and arranged them around the bag of snacks. The branch was like an arm around the bag; the berries were jewels. The stone was for her heart, which was heavy and hard. And the pinecone was just a pineconesomething nature had made that looked nearly perfect.

She stepped back and gazed at what shed done. Very nice, but it needed a finishing touch. What did she have that she could add to it? She put her hands in her pockets and felt around. In her left pocket was a piece of paper. She pulled it out. It was the picture of the dust mite, a little bent. She stuck it between the pinecone and the stone, so that it stood up. It added a note of strangeness that was exactly right. It seemed to say, Remember, I am here, too, along with other things you cant see. The world is full of endless strange surprises.

She started back down the trail. If no dogs find the food, she thought, maybe squirrels will. Or that white bear. Or if no one finds it, then it can all be for God. Only not for the Prophets God, her mean, picky God who dislikes so many things. Its formy God, the god of dogs and snakes and dust mites and albino bears and Siamese twins, the god of stars and starships and other dimensions, the god who loves everyone and who makes everything marvelous.

CHAPTER 29 ______________

The Last Day

The next morning, Crystal had a great deal of business with the post office. There were twenty or thirty boxes of stuff shed decided to save from Greenhaven that had to be shipped back to her house in New Jersey, so much of it that she couldnt fit it all in the car at once. It took her three trips.

While Crystal was at the post office, Nickie roamed around the empty, gleaming house. She went into every room and said goodbye to itthe front parlor, the dining room, the cleaned-up kitchen, the bedrooms, all swept and empty. In the west bedroom, she waited to see if she might feel a trace of the sadness that had washed over her great-grandfather, the grief left there from all those years ago. But all she felt was her own sadness at leaving this house behind.

Finally she went up to the third floor. Here the two trunk rooms were still crammed with the things of the past, waiting for Crystals decisions. The nursery was empty, but as she stood by the window seat, she could almost feel the presence of the beings shed encountered therethe letter writers and journal keepers, those who had taken pictures and had their pictures taken, those who had made scrapbooks and saved postcards and lived their lives in this place. And, with an ache, she felt the bouncing, wriggling, eager spirit of Otis.

Down below, the doorbell rang. She was the only one here, so shed have to answer it. She went downstairs to the front hall, and when she opened the door, there stood Amanda with her suitcase. She looked terrible. Her hair was falling out of its barrettes, her skin was broken out. On her face was the look of someone expecting to be shot in the next three seconds.

I dont want to talk to you, Nickie said.

No, you have to let me, said Amanda. Her mouth wrinkled as if she was going to cry. I have to tell you something.

You killed Otis!Nickie said. She swung the door hard, but Amanda put her hand out to stop it and took a step in through the doorway.

But listen, she said, and now she really was starting to cry. I thought it was right. It was a sacrifice! It wasso hard to do it, but Mrs. Beeson said the harder the better. If its real, real hard, you know its right! Thats what she said. She looked imploringly at Nickie, but Nickie glowered at her. And, Amanda added, everybody else was givin uptheir dogs, so I thought it must be right.

Nickie turned her back on Amanda, but she didnt try again to close the door. She went into the front parlor and sat down on the bare floor with her back to the wall beneath the windows. Amanda followed.

I wish I hadnt-a done it, she said. I been thinkin about him all this time, out there in the snow. She actually said snow-ow-ow, because a sob came up inside the word. She lifted up the hem of her sweater to wipe her nose.

Well, how come you changed your mind? Nickie said.

Because I couldnt stop thinking about Otis, said Amanda, and because I found Mrs. Beesons list.

What list?

Amanda sat down on the floor facing Nickie. She took off her jacketthe sun was warming the room nowand Nickie saw that she looked thinner than ever. It was this piece of paper in Altheas kitchen, Amanda said. A little edge of it stickin out from under the telephone book. So I looked at it. I shouldntve. But I did.

So what was it? Nickie kept her voice cold and hard so Amanda wouldnt think they were friends. But she was interested.

Names, said Amanda. About fifty of em. At the top of the list it said Sinnersjust that one word. Then there was names, and by each name a couple words. Like Chad Morris, defiant, surly. And Lindabell Truefoot, sluttish. And Morton Wilsnap, queer. And then Amanda Stokes.

You? Nickie forgot to stay cold and hard, she was so surprised.

Yeah. And after my name it said, disobedient. How could that be true? Amandas voice rose in a wounded wail. I always did every single thing she told me to do.

You sure did, said Nickie, going hard again.

Except for one thing, which was I bought a couple of those romance books I like to read. She found em and scolded me. Theyd sway me in evil directions, she said.

Whats supposed to happen to the people on this list? Nickie said.

Bracelets. It said that at the bottom. Theyre all supposed to get those bracelets. Evenme ! Amanda crossed her arms over her thin chest. Well, Im not havin one. Im leavin on my own, goin to my cousin in Tennessee. I dont much like her, but its better than being here. But I had to come to you first and tell you Im sorry. About Otis. I wish I hadnt-a done it, I really do.

She looked so miserable that Nickie almost felt sorry for her. But she thought of Otis out there in the melting snow, his feet wet and cold, his belly empty, and she tried to steel herself against Amanda.

So do you forgive me? Amanda said.

If you could get Otis back, I might, said Nickie.

But I cant. Im catchin a bus in twenty minutes. Amanda actually clasped her hands together and held them up under her chin like someone in an old-fashioned picture.Please, she said.

And Nickie remembered that she, too, had wanted to do whatever Mrs. Beeson told her, that she, too, had wanted very badly to be right. And also that shed been just a hair away from pushing Amanda down the stairs. So she looked at Amandas tear-stained face and hauled up forgiveness out of herself. All right, she said. I guess I forgive you. It was a grudging forgiveness but the best she could do.

Amanda sprang up. Thank you, she said. Im goin now.

Right now? said Nickie. You mean you left the Prophet by herself?

It doesnt matter, Amanda said. Theyll find someone else to take care of her.

But you left her alone? Shes alone right now?

She is, but its okay. Shes just sleeping. Amanda picked up her suitcase and went to the door. Bye, she said, and she walked away.

Nickie watched as she went down the sidewalk, moving with a sideways tilt because of the suitcases. And as soon as Amanda was out of sight, she threw on her jacket and dashed out the door, heading for the Prophets house.

CHAPTER 30 ______________

Nickie and the Prophet

Nothing was moving around the house on Grackle Street except for a bird that fluttered around the empty feeder and then flew away, disappointed. Nickie tried the front door and found it open. She stepped into the silent house. No one was in the living room, so she went down the hallway, looking into all the rooms. A kitchen. A study. A bathroom. No one was in any of them. At the back of the hall was a flight of stairs, and she went up them. At the top, she found herself facing two doors. She hesitated a moment. Then she chose one of the doors and pushed it open.

She saw a room full of books. Shelves to the ceiling, books on every shelf, and at the end a big soft armchair by a window. Books on the floor, books on a desk. The chilly light coming in through the glass. Outside the window, another empty bird feeder. But no one there.

So she backed out and tried the other door, and when it opened, she saw that she had found the Prophets room.

What had she expected? A dark den? Something like a church, with holy paintings and statues of angels? It wasnt like either of those. It was an ordinary room, with a bed beside a tall window. The window was closed; the air was stale. In the bed was a woman with ripply light brown hair spread out against a pile of white pillows. Her face was small and pale, and her huge frightened-looking gray eyes seemed to be staring past Nickie, or through her. Her mouth was partly open, but she didnt speak.

Nickie stepped in. Her heart was pounding like a drum. She hadnt thought about what she would say when she saw the Prophet, and now her mind went blank for a moment.

Ms. Prophet? she said. I have to ask you, she began. The Prophet didnt move. Was she listening to her? Did she even see her? Nickie started again, louder this time. Ms. Prophet! Im Nickie! I have to talk to you!

The Prophets hands fluttered on the covers, but she said nothing.

So Nickie hurried on. Its about the dogs, she said. Why did you say No dogs? I have to know.

The Prophets eyebrows came together in a puzzled frown, as if she were hearing a foreign language. She gazed down at her hands. Her lips moved, but no sound came out.

Nickie spoke more loudly. They took the dogs! she said. Did you know it? It was because of you! They took Otishes up in the mountains, hes goneand they took Grovers snakes! Why? I have to know why!

The Prophets mouth opened. She looked confused, or afraid. Strands of hair fell across her face, but she didnt brush them aside.

Suddenly Nickie couldnt bear it. All her grief and anger rushed up in her like hot steam, and she took three fast steps toward the Prophet and grabbed her by the arm and shouted right into her face: Talk! Talk! You have to tell me why they took the dogs! Youhave to!

At that, the Prophet finally spoke. Dogs? she said in a feeble voice. Dogs?

Yes! cried Nickie, shaking the Prophets arm. Mrs. Beeson told us the dogs had to go! She said we shouldnt love dogs, we should love only God. I dont understand it. I want you to explain it!

For a second the Prophet gazed at her with burning eyes. Then she sank back onto her pillows and went silent again.

Nickie let go of her arm. It was hopeless. Maybe the Prophets mind had been vaporized by her vision. Maybe she couldnt communicate with human beings anymore, only God.

So Nickie turned away. She went to the window and looked down. There was the backyard where, shed heard, the Prophet had had her vision. It was such an ordinary backyarda small brownish lawn, a chair, some trees, a few birds fluttering around. Nickie pushed the window open, and a draft of cool air flowed in, along with a few notes of birdsong. She stood there staring down, breathing the fresh air, feeling sort of empty, like a sack that everythings been spilled out of.

Behind her, the bed creaked.

Nickie spun around. The Prophet was sitting up. Her hair fell over her white nightgown, tangled and long. She pushed her covers away, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and stood next to it, trembling all over. She was hardly taller than Nickie. When she spoke, her voice was soft and raspy, as if she hadnt used it much for a long time, but her words were clear. I forgot to fill the bird feeders, she said. When did I last fill them?