The Rejected Writers' Book Club (Southlea Bay) (17 page)

Ronald pulled the candle close to his face again as he whispered, “Beth looked a-down at the ground but there weren’t-a no footprints in the snow leading to or away from that house. Well, Beth was a-frantic, so she holler’d to her husband, and they hunted for their son all that day and many a-days after that. But young Theo was never seen again. They were a-both heartbroken and pined awful for him, but nothing could’a be done. It was the mystery of it all that kept them up nights. Who had taken him? And without no footprints? Slowly they started to recover as best they could. That is, until the following winter and the first snowfall.

“Beth was a-carrying their third child, and the snow, it a-started to fall early in the afternoon. Completely worned out, she told her daughter, who was now twelve years old, that she was going to lie down. She reminded her not to answer the front door for no one. Her daughter agreed and stayed in by the fire to play with her dolls. When Beth woke about an hour later, the first thing she felt, even before her eyes opened, was the bone-chilling cold. She jumped outta that-a bed, racing through the house like a crazed woman. When she got to the hallway, the front door was a-wide open. In there, her daughter’s dolls were on the floor, but Ruth were a-gone.

“Once again there were no tracks to or from the house. They searched late into the night. But they never saw little Ruth again.”

Ronald paused. I heard a sob slip from Flora, who now appeared to be chewing on a tissue, and Annie had stopped knitting and had both her hands to her chest. Ethel seemed to be holding her breath, and Doris’s eyebrows were knitted in thought.

Ronald shook his head sadly, and his dirty, matted hair brushed roughly against his sack cape.

“Beth, she was a-heartbroken, and Thaddeus, he a-wanted to leave the mountain right away. But Beth wanted t’ stay in case one of the children found their way back. She wanted to be there for ’em.

“The following winter, Beth had her hands full with a new baby. Then that first snow came again. This time Thaddeus was ready. He told Beth they would stay together no matter what, and guard that-a new baby of theirs. That first night they huddled together in front of this fire, neither of them sleeping a lick, Thaddeus with his pistol loaded by his side. They made it through that-a night and through-a the next day. They started to think that maybe the dreadful curse had been lifted, and Thomas’s ghost had found its vengeance. The following night, they were feeling better, and Beth wanted to sleep in her own bed. Thaddeus went out back to get some firewood to keep ’em warm through the night, and he told Beth to stay in the bedroom. Beth nodded and lay back quietly. As Thaddeus left, three loud knocks came on the front door.”

Ronald stopped to rap theatrically on the mantelpiece.

“Beth, she was a-mighty scared and a-pulled that-a baby’s body close to her and closed her eyes. Then those knocks came again.”

Ronald rapped again harder.

“Then suddenly she heard her son, Theo’s, voice calling to her on the wind, then the voice of Ruth. Without thinking, with that baby in her-a arms, she leapt from the bed and ran to the front door. She could hear them. They had come home. She flung open that-a door, and the snow poured in.

“As Thaddeus left the barn, he also heard the voices of Theo and Ruth. Overjoyed, he dropped the wood and raced to the front of this-a house, but when he got-a there, there was no one. Desperate and with a mountain of fear, he raced into his bedroom, but his wife and baby were gone, and the only footprints leading into the house was-a ’is own. He dropped to his knees right-a ’ere in-a front of this fire, sobbing, realizing Thomas’s ghost had taken all of his family. Then, half-wild with grief, he ran from this house and bolted into the snow and off into the night, calling for them.

“For years, he searched desperately for them all until, crazy and broken, one night during the first snow of one year, he couldn’t a-take it no more so he threw himself off the mountain just outside here at the very same spot where Thomas Barnes had lost his life all those years ago.”

Ronald’s voice became a whisper again.

“It is said that the ghost of Thomas Barnes still roams these parts, looking for vengeance for his family. And that he still knocks at this very door on the night after the first snowfall.”

Ronald blew out the candles for effect, and the room became darkened all around us. All we could see was his wild, fiery scarecrow silhouette, backlit by the fire.

Doris started to speak. “I have never heard so much nonsense in all of . . .”

But she never finished her sentence because suddenly, out of the blue, there came three loud knocks at the front door.

We all screamed.

Ronald lifted both his hands in the dark. “Don’t open it!” he yelled. I could hear real fear in his voice. “As long as you don’t open it, we’ll be safe inside.”

For a minute, I wondered if this was some sort of party trick and somehow he’d managed to make the door knock. But as I relit the candles, I could see the fear on his face too. We all froze to the spot. Someone knocked at the door again, now with more urgency.

“Someone had better open it,” sniffed Doris, not quite as confident as she usually sounded. “We can’t just all sit here like a bunch of scared camp kids.”

“I warn you again!” pleaded Ronald, urgency in his tone. “It’s Thomas’s ghost. He’ll take you away!”

Doris pulled herself out of her chair. “I would like to see him try. I am not exactly waiflike. It’ll take more than a ghost to get
me
down that mountain.”

She started to walk toward the door.

Flora jumped up. “We can’t let her go alone,” she implored. “It can’t take all of us, can it? Let’s all go.”

We clustered together and slowly shuffled toward the door, Doris in front, a candle held high.

The person rapped once again, hard.

Ronald shouted after us. “I’ll tell your story for years to come! The brave ladies from an island who brought pie.”

Chapter Fourteen

HE’S COMING TO TAKE YOU AWAY . . .

As we crept slowly toward the front door, someone pounded again even harder. Doris reached for the latch, then flung it open. There, wrapped inside a hat, scarf, and winter coat, was Dan. As we enveloped him with a group hug, more out of a sense of relief, I believe, Flora spoke his name with fondness.

“Dan.”

He seemed bemused by us all as we huddled around him on the doorstep with nothing but a candle.

“Look at this greeting. I thought I was going to freeze to death standing out here for ten minutes. Then you treat me like your long-lost son.”

“You
are
our long-lost son,” said Annie, smiling and pulling him inside. Following behind him were Tom and Joe.

We all arrived back in the main room just in time to see Ronald stuffing the rest of the apple pie into his mouth, straight from the dish. He eyed everyone curiously, saying in a muffled voice as he sprayed crumbs all over the place, “Did anyone disappear?”

“The only thing that seems to have disappeared around here is that pie!” said Doris, planting her hands on her hips.

Tom noticed our guest.

“Hey there, Ronald, you’re up here late in the year. I thought you were normally down in town by now.”

“That snow caught me. Came in fast,” mumbled Ronald as he swallowed down the rest of the pie in one gulp.

“I’d put the kettle on and make coffee,” said Doris, “but there’s no power.”

Joe nodded. “That’s partly why we’re here. I wanted to show you the little camping stove we have in the back shed. You can use it, if you like, until it comes back on.”

“I’ll get in some more wood for the fire,” added Tom.

“Can I do anything to help?” asked Dan, not taking his eyes from Flora.

“Why don’t you sit and keep Flora company?” giggled Annie.

Doris was as happy as a cricket to have a place to cook something, even though it was just two tiny gas rings on an old battered stove. Soon she was brewing up hot coffee and cocoa.

Tom had built the fire up, and we all gathered around.

Annie tapped Dan on the hand. “How on earth did you find us?”

“After you all left, I went back to work with Ian on the project car. I was having real trouble keeping my mind on my work.” His eyes found Flora’s. “I was concerned that the repairs were holding out okay.”

Sure, I thought, he was worried about “the car.”

“Then, when I woke up at the lake house the following day, I turned on the news. They talked about the unexpected snowstorm that had blown in and that a landslide had blocked the pass. I knew you might be trapped in your car on this side of the mountain. So I borrowed Ian’s truck and hightailed it after you. I called into the bait store to see if they’d seen you. I’m glad to see you’re all okay.”

Once again, his eyes found Flora’s. Beaming, she sat down next to him and slipped her hand into his.

“I have personally been taking care of these ladies myself,” said Ronald with an uppity air. “And I am pleased to report that they are all in one piece.”

“The only thing you’ve taken care of is polishing off our food supplies,” snapped Doris sarcastically.

Tom finished adding the extra wood to the fire, saying, “We’d better get back. The plows are already out, so we should be able to get you safely off the mountain tomorrow, and they cleared the landslide late last night before the storm hit.”

Suddenly, as if to herald this good news, the power flicked back on.

“There you go,” said Doris. “At least now we can all have a nice hot breakfast in the morning. I take it you will be staying with us, Dan?”

“If that’s okay,” he asked coyly.

“Of course it’s okay,” said Annie, squeezing his arm.

Annie bought out some extra bedding so Dan could sleep on the sofa. Ronald settled himself down for the night, curling up on a bunch of cushions on the floor in front of the fire.

Dan and Flora disappeared into the kitchen to spend some time alone together, and Doris saw Tom and Joe out. Ethel yawned, and I realized I was exhausted too. Even though it was only 8:00 p.m., I decided to turn in.

The next morning, a weak winter sun greeted me through the bedroom window. I was feeling more optimistic than I had in days. All going well, we would be in San Francisco by the end of the day, and I was looking forward to seeing my daughter.

I dressed and made my way into the main room. Everyone was already up and moving around, everyone except Ronald. He was still asleep in the same position he’d been in the night before. He lay there, snoring like a large shaggy dog. Annie sat on the edge of the sofa, finishing a second sock. In the kitchen, Doris and Ethel already had breakfast going.

I grabbed a cup of coffee and looked out the window, noticing that Dan and Flora were out in front of the cabin. They were huddled up together on a little porch swing, talking.

As soon as the food was ready, Ronald appeared. He was like a food magnet. Doris called out to everyone else, and we all gathered in the kitchen. We were a happy group as we started to eat. Toward the end of the meal, Ronald lifted his glass.

“To you all. Thanks for feeding me,” he said as he nodded at Doris.

“Another two days with you, and you would have eaten us out of house and home,” sniffed Doris.

I saved him a reply by raising my glass as well. “Just a few more hours and we’ll be there, and I can’t wait.”

Everyone added his or her own agreements. Just before we left, I went back into the bedroom and removed the sheet from the moose. “I wish I could say it’s been lovely meeting you,” I said out loud. “But it wasn’t. It would have been nice to have met you when you still had the rest of your body.”

Outside, everyone was already in the cars. Dan planned to follow us all the way to San Francisco. He told me he would drive Ian’s truck slowly down the mountain in front of me, and he’d already put chains on my tires.

Flora slipped in beside Dan, and Ronald asked if he could get a lift. We set off, slowly, inching our way down the mountain until we got onto the road. The sun had started to melt the snow, but it wasn’t too slippery yet.

Soon we were back outside the bait shop. I slipped some money for the extra night through the letter slot with a thank-you note. We continued on to the garage, now that the rockslide was cleared. Ronald got out and, cinching his scruffy clothes tightly around himself, he walked, head down, away from the car without even a good-bye. Annie jumped out and raced after him. She handed him his brand-new pair of socks and some muffins Doris had wrapped up from breakfast. He took them as if they were a prized possession. But it was when he looked inside the socks that we saw that broad gummy smile, as we’d stuffed dollar bills in them.

“Payment for the storyteller,” I yelled from my window.

He looked over at us and then gave us this big, overstated wave, as if we were miles out to sea. Then, with a skip in his step, he headed off toward the coffee shop next to the garage.

Dan and Flora had stopped to get gas with us, when Annie yelled out, “I’ve got a signal.”

We all instinctively grabbed Doris’s hand.

Annie quickly pushed the buttons on the iPad and a little ringing sound rang out. The picture on the screen came to life, and Lottie’s face swirled into view.

“Hello,” she said, sounding more subdued than she usually did, “who is this?”

As our picture flashed to life too, Lottie’s voice changed to relief.

“Oh, thank the Lord. It’s the girls calling, Lavinia,” she shouted back over her shoulder.

Lavinia’s face appeared on the screen too, and I noticed they both looked tired and worn, which was very unusual for the twins.

“We’ve been trying to get hold of you for two days,” said Lavinia, the concern obvious in her tone. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” said Doris, finding her inner strength. “We’ve been stuck in an old lodge in the mountains with no signal. Is everything alright there with Momma?”

The twins shared a look between themselves that informed us right away that something was wrong.

Lottie started. “Now, Doris, honey, I don’t want you to go and worry yourself, but your momma has had a little turn.”

“She’s okay now,” added Lavinia quickly. “The doctor has seen her, and she’s resting, but she gave us quite a scare there for a while, that’s for sure.”

“What happened?” asked Doris somberly.

Once again, the twins shared a glance.

Lavinia spoke. “I think this whole thing might have been my fault,” she said soberly.

“Now, Lavinia,” rebuked Lottie, “no one was to know. The thing is, Doris, we were having a little get-together of our rejected ladies, and my sister found an old story journal in your attic.”

Lavinia looked sheepish.

“I asked your momma if I could bring it down to read. She seemed fine with that. She said it belonged to her sister, who had loved to write stories. I had no idea, of course . . .” Lavinia’s voice trailed off.

Lottie picked up the thread. “No one was to know. It had lots of sweet stories about goblins and fairies, and then there was this one story set during World War Two.”

We all looked around at one another, knowing instinctively where this was going.

Lavinia searched for the right words. “Well, I started to read the story out to the group, and suddenly your momma let out a scream. I looked over at her, and she had gone ashen-white, and her whole body was shaking . . .”

“Ruby rushed to get her a glass of water, and I dropped straight to my knees to pray,” Lottie interjected.

“Which was a good thing,” added Lavinia, “because your momma suddenly jumped to her feet and then went down like a sack of oranges. If Lottie hadn’t been there on her knees to break her fall, the doctor said we could have been dealing with broken bones.”

“Prayer always helps,” said Lottie wistfully, “in one way or another.”

Lavinia picked up the thread. “Anyhow, her blood pressure was a mite low, but they released her as there was no reason to keep her as her health seems fine; it’s just that this has hit her hard emotionally.”

Lottie sighed. “She seems to be preoccupied with that story in the journal, saying over and over, ‘How could she do it? How could she do this to me?’”

Lavinia jumped in. “We’ve tried to take her mind off it, but she’s very sad and just won’t get out of bed. I feel terrible about all this. You know the last thing in the world I would want to do is hurt your momma. This whole mess is just my fault, as usual.”

“No,” said Doris, “it’s my fault. I should have destroyed that journal when I found it. Now it appears that we’ve uncovered something about Momma’s past that she wanted to keep buried.”

“We can burn it if you think it will help,” said Lottie wistfully, “and then this whole thing can be put behind us.”

“Not quite,” said Doris softly. “Unfortunately, I added details of that story into the manuscript that’s now at the publisher.”

The twins drew in their breath together as if it were rehearsed. All of us instinctively reached out to Doris again.

“Oh my,” said Lottie, “you need to get that back and destroy it as soon as you can. I don’t want to even think about how that news would affect your momma.”

“That is exactly what we’re going to do,” said Annie. “By tomorrow there will be no trace of this story, and we’ll make sure of that.”

The twins nodded their heads in approval.

Lavinia added, “In the meantime, we’ll try to buoy your momma’s spirits the best we can. I’m going to try and coax her out for one of her fairy teas in town. She can wear her sparkles, and I’m sure Ruby has something appropriate I can borrow.”

“We’ll be back soon,” said Doris.

“I know this is difficult,” added Lottie. “I’m praying for you all. Just know your momma is in good hands. Her health is fine. She’s just very sad, but we’ll do our best.”

Doris nodded, and we all said our good-byes.

Once the twins were gone, we looked around at each other despondently.

Surprisingly, it was Ethel who broke the silence. “Looks like we have a job to do for Gracie’s sake, so I think we had better get on and do it, don’t you?”

I didn’t know whether it was her words or that she had actually spoken a whole sentence that rallied us, but whatever it was, it was just the encouragement we needed. Doris nodded at me, and I started the car with renewed determination.