by Rona Jameson
I shine the flashlight inside and the ground in the tunnel appears to gradually slope downward. “You can do this,” I whisper to myself. “I can do this,” I say more determined. I’m not going to chicken out, no matter how much I hate being down here.
Inhaling deeply, I step forward and then stop with a last-minute thought. I quickly remove the padlock and shove it into my back pocket. If I have it, then I can’t be locked in here.
I move into the tunnel with only the flashlight to guide me. The walls and the roof are laid out with wood. Hardwood maybe. I don’t really know. Something strong, I imagine. My steps are slow and as I put distance between the basement, I nervously glance behind me. The doorway is getting smaller.
I slowly turn my head back toward the dark tunnel and scream. A large arm wraps around my waist while his gloved hand covers my mouth. I try to bite him, but it’s impossible with how tightly he’s gripping me. He grunts when I kick him in the knee. We’re moving back toward the basement and I continue to fight him. My hands grab at his jacket, I try to lift my arms and grab at his face, but he’s too tall for me to reach.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he hisses. “Wren, stop fighting.”
“That’s what killers say before they kill you,” I mumble, my mouth still covered.
“I’m your uncle,” he says quietly.
Hell no!
I start wiggling around again and just as he pushes us through into the basement, I trip him and we both go down. My heart is pumping, and I know I have to fight, but he has my legs. I can’t even kick him in the face.
“Not related to your dad. Your mother, Wren.”
I still at his words and swivel my head to his face. “My mom?” I see him nod in the glow from my flashlight.
“My name is Silas Mathis and your mother, Joy, was my sister. I’m here for you, Wren.”
“I don’t know what to believe.”
He releases my legs and pulls himself up, offering me a hand. I hesitate, and he says, “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so.”
I take his hand.
“Marcel knows about me, or rather, he knows that Joy had a brother who died. My death status had been a mix up. However, in the end, it meant I could work as a ghost…for others. It became easier to let everyone believe I was actually dead. Eventually it worked to my advantage because it meant I could work toward finding the men responsible for Joy’s and my nephew’s deaths. I’ve only been back in the country a few years. Until then, I had no idea what had happened.” He runs a hand through his hair and admits, “Rafael has seen me too.”
“Wait. You’re the one who told me to leave in the church basement.” I wince. “I’m always meeting you in basements.”
“You have to stop snooping, Wren.” Silas pushes the door closed to an inch and turns to me. “This thing that the Reverend is involved in is bigger than me and you, and your friends next door.”
“They have help.” I dust myself off and look around for the flashlight. I find it under the stairs with the battery lying next to it. While distracted putting the thing back together, I add, “They believe heroin is being produced here.” I look at him and notice a tick beside his jaw. “They’re right? Are the poppies in the field opium ones?”
“You know a lot.”
“Not really. I had a crash course not long ago. I’ve been blind my whole life, it would appear.”
Silas moves closer and, reaching out, brushes a lock of hair from my eyes. “You remind me of your mother.” He turns sad, and his eyes look like he really isn’t here with me. “I wish I’d known what was happening back then. I’d have helped her, or at least tried.”
“The only person to blame is the one who took their lives, and the one who requested that it be done.”
“You’re older than your years, Wren.”
“Not really.”
“Wild was one of the men there that day,” he says quietly. “I don’t know who the other man was yet. I will, though. From what I’ve heard, the Reverend wanted his son back. Roman wasn’t supposed to be killed. Just taken and brought here. To him. I hadn’t seen the Reverend so angry until the day he learned of his son’s death.”
I gasp. “What?”
He ignores me and instructs, “Tell Marcel to leave with you and Rafael before someone gets killed. They don’t like interlopers, which they believe the DeLacroix to be. If the Reverend knows you’re in love with Rafael, there will be bigger trouble than you can imagine. He’s unhinged, Wren. Don’t push him because he will push back harder than ever before.”
“I want to know about my mom,” I say fiercely. “And Roman. I can’t remember either of them.”
“I’ll tell you what you want to know, but not now. You need to go upstairs before the Reverend gets back. He went to the church via the tunnel.”
My eyes widen and Silas curses. “Be careful, Wren. You’re the only family I have left.” With those words, he leaves through the tunnel.
I feel pale and drawn as I stare at the closed door. Part of me wants to follow him and demand he tell me everything. The other part, the scared part, has me putting the padlock back into the ring and finding a hiding place for the flashlight. I avoid leaving it close to the bed because that would be the logical place for the Reverend to look for it. Instead, I decide to leave it in the open and place it face down beside the doorframe. It’s in view but not obvious. Maybe he’ll think someone else left it there if it’s discovered. I can only hope.
Leaving the basement as quietly as I entered, I go and hide in my bedroom and wait. For what, I’m not sure. Maybe the Reverend to come back and tell me he knows what I’ve been doing this afternoon. Or maybe for Rafael to come and tell me about my mother and brother.
I desperately want to remember them. I do remember a woman singing me to sleep when I was little, but the memory won’t come into focus. I’ve tried hard over the years to remember the face of the woman who I have always presumed to be my mother. I’ve never known for sure, and even now I don’t know because I can’t remember.
Then I remember I’m still expected to have dinner on the table.
35
RAFAEL
UNSETTLED SINCE WREN LEFT, I climb up onto her roof, keeping low so I’m not seen as the sun sets. She’s in her room. I see her shadow moving around, as though she’s pacing back and forth. I’ve given her enough space to think about what was said and I’m only hoping she doesn’t blame me for anything. My main concern is her thoughts on her brother and mom—the ones I had for seven years, the same length of time Wren did, but struggles to remember. She hadn’t been the only one surprised at Dad’s admission. All this time I’d never known Sarah had had a daughter. Was that why she’d sometimes looked sad?
Sighing, I gently tap on Wren’s window and feel some of the tension drain away when she immediately appears, letting me in. It drains away completely when she wraps herself around me and shoves her face into my neck.
Picking her up, I move and lie down on the bed with her snuggled in my arms. We’re as close as can be with our clothing on and I feel like she wants to get closer. “Has something happened between then and now?” I brush my lips across her forehead.
“I went to the basement,” she whispers. “I should have told you before. I don’t know why I didn’t.” She rolls away, but I’m not going to let her put distance between us.
My arm snakes around her waist and I pull her close, hovering above. “Tell me, Wren.”
“I’m lying. I didn’t tell you because I figured if we got caught then you’d be in more trouble than me. Now I’m not too sure that would be the case.” She glances away, and adds, “I met my uncle.”
“Uncle?” I watch her closely.
“I’ll start from the beginning. I caught a glance of a door in the basement that I hadn’t noticed before because it’s dark and there isn’t any light. I checked that the Reverend wasn’t around and then I took a flashlight and went down there.” She moves to her knees in exc
itement. “I was scared stupid, but there is a tunnel leading to the church. I didn’t get that far. In fact, I didn’t get far at all. Someone was in there and he grabbed me. I fought but he was stronger.”
“Fuck, Wren!” I hiss.
“It was my uncle, Rafael. At least, he said he was. Silas Mathis. He said everyone thinks he’s dead.”
“It could have been someone fucking else, Wren!” I’m too agitated to sit so I start pacing. “What if it had been the Reverend down there? Shit!” I rub at my chest and calm down when I see her chin wobble and tears seep from her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to go off on you, but you mean too much to me. The thought of you down there—alone and in trouble—scares me.”
“It wasn’t the wisest decision I’ve ever made, but I met my uncle. I thought he meant the Reverend’s brother at first and I got a good kick in then, but he explained he meant my mother’s side of the family. He didn’t confirm there were drugs around, but when I asked about the poppies, he was surprised I knew anything. He said for your dad to take us both away from here. It’s too dangerous. Why do you think he’s here?”
“The same as us. Vengeance.” I rub at my eyes. “That’s all I’ve wanted, Wren. Since I saw them die. I’ve wanted the bastards responsible to pay. That’s what Silas wants too. He left flowers on Mom’s grave saying as much.”
“Then we have to find enough evidence of what they’re doing here to get the authorities to act. Did you find the poppies? You went looking, right?”
“We didn’t find anything.”
“That’s impossible.” Wren frowns. “They were there.”
“We walked for a while and we couldn’t find any flowers. However, Dad thought we found where they had been. The ground looked turned over, but that’s about it.”
“So, I was right? They were growing those type of poppies.” Wren pulls off her sweater and tosses it to the bed while I grin at the sight before me.
“You’re wearing my shirt.” I move closer and tug her up, slipping my hands inside the T-shirt. She shivers when I reach the bare skin of her torso and hold her gently. “We’re going to get him, Wren. I promise.” I kiss her forehead.
“I need to tell you something else,” she says. “Something is going on in the basement of the church.”
“Oh, hell no! You are not going snooping there. No way.” I cup her face. “That is way too dangerous, Wren.”
“I accidentally went down there on Sunday. I was trying to avoid Agnes, the Sunday school teacher. Silas was there and got me out of the way. Of course, I didn’t know who he was at the time.”
“What exactly are you on about?” I pull her down beside me on the bed. “You’ve been keeping things from me that could impact your safety.”
She narrows her eyes. “Oh, and you and your dad haven’t kept some pretty big things from me! Like the fact that you lived with my mom and brother for years.” She stands, good and mad. “I’ve managed alone for years, so don’t start getting mad when I find myself somewhere I’m not supposed to be.”
Reaching out, I pull her onto my lap and hold her down when she moves to get up. “I didn’t know Sarah and Joy, your mother, were the one and the same. I swear.”
“I’m sorry.” Her head touches mine. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know it wasn’t your fault. I need to know why I was left behind, Rafael. It’s eating at me. Why didn’t she want me?”
“I don’t believe that for a minute. Want to know why, because every now and again, Mom would get this look on her face, and I knew she wasn’t really in the room with me. Now that I know about you, I’m thinking you’re the one she was thinking about. You heard Dad. She told him you’d died. She wouldn’t have lied about that. I know that beyond anything, Wren. Whatever happened, it made her truly believe she’d lost you.”
“I’m so tired and my head hurts.”
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” I move her onto the bed and follow her down, pulling her back against my front. “Close your eyes and clear your mind.”
“Will you take my jeans off?”
I grin. “I’m game.”
She chuckles. “No funny business.”
Slipping a hand to the button and zipper, I peel the denim over her hips and off before I settle back down with her. She wiggles and pushes her bottom against my groin—not helping. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, I hiss, “Stop rubbing on me.”
“I wish you could hold me all night,” she whispers as I bury my nose in the hair spilling over the pillow.
“Soon.”
She finally drifts to sleep, and I don’t want to leave. I want to stay this way forever. Holding the girl I’ve fallen in love with. Instead, I gently unwrap myself from her body and pull the quilt over her. She mumbles something in her sleep and cuddles into the quilt.
I stand watching her, my heart aching to get back on the bed. I can’t. The Reverend may check on her when he comes home. It’s with those thoughts on my mind that I climb out of the window and tug it down softly behind me. I leave a small gap, so she gets some of the fresh air. I know she likes this weather, even though it’s humid. As I turn, I’m surprised to see a group of butterflies hovering close, as though they’ve been watching us through the window. As though they sensed the turmoil inside of Wren.
“She’s okay for now,” I whisper to her friends.
They hover and then disappear into the night. Probably to the glasshouse that Wren has created for them. I wish they were able to keep her safe for me while I can’t be here.
36
WREN
BREAKFAST IS quiet and it takes everything in me to not look at the Reverend as I eat. If I do, I know all the truth I’ve learned in the past twenty-four hours would be shining clearly on my face. Instead, I keep my eyes down into the bowl as I eat. The Reverend made me oatmeal, which I like, but he never makes me breakfast. I can’t imagine why he would do this now, so my mind is churning as I try to figure it out. I don’t have a problem eating it because he also put a spoon of strawberry jelly into the dish. He doesn’t appear to be in a happy mood either, so this is bizarre. I always have to do what he asks, so it’s not like he’s trying to get his way about something. His way is the only way. Or so I learned while growing up.
When the bowl in front of me is empty, I move from the table with my dirty dishes and reach for the Reverend’s. He passes them to me and sips his coffee, his eyes on me. “I want you to accompany me to the church today, Wren.”
A dish slips out of my hand to shatter on the floor. I gasp and quickly get the broom and dustpan to clear the mess, mumbling an apology. I dare not look at him because he’ll be angry. I‘ve ruined good dishes. They’re not actually good dishes, but he likes to think they are. Not one matches.
“Bring your schoolwork with you.”
“Why am I going to the church and not school?” The moment the words are out of my mouth, I cringe inside and wait for his rebuff—it doesn’t come.
“I’m leaving. Now, Wren.” I turn and frown at his back. There is something going on. One, I’m never allowed to miss school, and two, he didn’t yell or react when I asked him a question.
“Wren!” He does yell this time.
Running through the house, I grab my book bag on the way out to the car. The engine turns over before I’ve even gotten in and then he’s off. The speed at which he leaves slams the door and me in the seat. I scramble for the seatbelt and my hands shake as I try and get the end into the slot. The Reverend laughs. “Feel that power, Wren. It makes me invincible.”
What is he on about?
I stay silent.
“We’ll be moving soon,” he continues. “Somewhere that has cold winters and warm summers. You’ll like that.” He pulls up outside of the church and makes no move to get out of the car. “One day, you’ll realize that everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.” He turns his eyes on me and I feel ill. “You’ll run the next church with me. My daughter by my side. Wild has left, so I’m going to tak
e good care of you.” He grins and gets out of the car. “Agnes is in the office. She’ll keep an eye on you today,” he shouts over his shoulder.
Peeling myself from the car, I want to run through the trees and find Rafael. I don’t like anything that is happening today. It’s making me feel more uneasy than before. The Reverend isn’t right. The sun shines off the car and blinds me, so I have no choice but to look toward the church where the Reverend waits. He’s talking to a man who turns slightly, and I recognize him as Silas.
Seeing Silas reassures me that he’ll be close because I desperately want to trust him. He’s got me out of the way twice now, so I have to trust that. Trust him. He casts me a quick glance without missing a word with the Reverend as I walk by and into the church.
What would be good is if Agnes decided she had something better to do than babysit me. I know she’ll be in her small Sunday school room, so I decide to head to the office outside of the Reverend’s. Agnes actually scares me more than the Reverend does.
I dump my bag on the empty desk and take out books so that I look busy. He won’t ask me to do stuff around here if I’m doing schoolwork. Then again, I never expected him to willingly let me miss a day of school.
With the pencil twirling in my mouth, I open one of my religious books, knowing it will please him, and then think about why he is talking about moving. It’s out of the blue and makes no sense. Why would he up and move us when everyone in this town worships the ground he walks on? Does he know people are on to him? Does he suspect that people know about Peter Wild’s murder…and the drugs…and whatever else he’s done that has yet to be found? Is he about to go on the run? Is that why he is keeping me close? I would have thought he’d have left me here. I’m just a servant to him. Or am I?