Then Came the Thunder

by Rachael Huszar

  Still holding onto Lilah, Jessalyn sank to her knees, as did Samuel next to her, with Roger falling beside the reverend. Jessalyn forced herself to open her eyes. Ebenezer Carson lay face down in the dirt. A pool of ever-expanding dark red around his head.

  “Miss Joy? Sam? Is he—did she—?” Lilah’s voice was shaking.

  Jessalyn gripped the girl tighter. “Don’t look, Lilah.

  “It’s going to be okay,” said Samuel. Jessalyn wasn’t sure if she believed him.

  Mamie walked up and down the line of her prisoners. “I think we can find the silver lining here,” she said, cheerfully. “You two holy men will get to meet your maker. You, Jessalyn, will join your precious husband. You, girl . . . well, how many kids is your mama up to these days? Ten? Twelve? I bet you won’t even be missed. And you.” She stopped in front of Samuel. “Mister Sam Brooks. Oddly enough, some of this is your fault.”

  Samuel looked her dead in the eye. “How d’you figure?”

  “You coming to town was the final push I needed to make my move. If strangers like you are finding out about Three Willows, then it’s time to take advantage. Expand! Become a real, thriving city, here in the West. Make some real money. Have some actual goddamn excitement! And we can do it. We have the Thunderbird, which means we have the water. And now I’m the one taking control.”

  “Mamie, you don’t understand,” said Finley, distressed. “This only works because we maintain the balance. This isn’t what your father—”

  Mamie brandished her gun again. “Damn the balance!” she cried. She strode forward, grasping the skull and wrenching it from Reverend Finley’s grip. “And damn my father! Damn him for dying when I was fifteen and saddling me with this mystical bullshit! It doesn’t matter! When you’re at the top of the food chain, everything falls in line.”

  “She’s not wrong,” Samuel spoke up.

  Jessalyn nearly jumped. “Samuel?” He couldn’t possibly be on her side.

  “I’ve always said, the hardest part about life is living it. Seems to me any steps you can take towards having a better life to live are good steps. I don’t understand why y’all are fighting so hard for this dirt pile in the desert. What Mamie’s saying, turning Three Willows into a real city, it makes a lot of sense.” Slowly, wary of Mamie’s gun, Samuel stood, keeping his hands up.

  Jessalyn’s mind raced. Samuel always knew his next move. This had to be part of some plan he’d thought up.

  “Well, well,” said Mamie. “Sam. From the moment you walked into my bar, I had a hunch we were cut from the same cloth. It’s a pity I let Ebenezer shack you up with Three Willows’ weeping widow. If you’d stayed with me, I could have shown you a real nice time.”

  A knot settled in Jessalyn’s stomach.

  “It’s not too late,” said Samuel, stepping closer. “I could work with you to make this place something special. After all, you still need help with the Thunderbird ritual, right? Seemed like a three-person job.”

  Mamie sniffed. “How unfortunately observant of you.”

  “I’m sure you, me, and the reverend would make a great team.”

  Reverend Finley sputtered from his spot on the ground. “If you think for a moment that I will continue to conspire with that snake—”

  Samuel waved his hand. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you, sir. I meant our new reverend. The right honorable Roger Shaw.”

  Jessalyn was only more confused now.

  “Really?” Mamie said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “I—Ah—U-um.” Roger was speechless.

  “Absolutely,” Samuel pressed on. “Mamie, c’mon. Finley isn’t long for this world. Spare me. Spare Roger. We can help you. In fact, Roger’s done all sorts of research into the spirits and things of this place. He might know other ways to use the bird’s power.”

  “That true?” Mamie said, looking down at the young preacher.

  It clicked. There was nothing Roger could talk more about than his readings. And if Mamie was tempted, it might make for the perfect distraction.

  “It’s . . . eh- I’m . . .” Roger swallowed hard.

  So low, just so she was barely audible, Jessalyn whispered, “Roger. Talk.”

  “True, yes. Yes, it is most certainly, true.” Carefully, Roger also rose to his feet and cleared his throat. “I have conducted numerous interviews with the townsfolk, and have reached a number of conclusions regarding the runes that seem to guide the, uh, the Thunderbird. Maybe ‘conclusions’ is too strong a word. Let’s see. Theories, then. But highly suspect theories—”

  As Roger rattled on, Jessalyn leaned down to Lilah. “Lilah, listen to me,” she hissed. “When I say go, I want you to run as fast as you can, back down the mountain, get the horses, and do not stop.”

  “Miss Joy, I can’t—”

  “I’ll run the other way as a distraction, but you have to get out of here. Don’t waste the chance Samuel is buying us.”

  Lilah looked back and forth between Samuel and Jessalyn. “What? He’s . . . it’s a trick?”

  “Mm hm. He’s good at that. Are you ready?”

  “Come with me, Miss Joy,” Lilah pleaded. “She killed Mayor Carson, she’s gonna kill all of us—”

  Jessalyn held up a finger. “Lilah Templeton, I am not giving you a choice. You will get home. Understand?”

  Lilah nodded.

  Jessalyn wasn’t sure what else to say. She wasn’t sure what the rest of Samuel’s plan was, or if they were even on the same page. But they could figure all that out once Lilah was safe. She gripped the girl’s hand and squeezed. “On my count. Three, two, one, go!”

  Lilah stood and raced towards the gap in the rock wall. At the same time, Jessalyn launched herself towards Ebenezer’s body. Samuel and Roger had turned at her shout.

  “Oh, now you’ve done it!” Mamie lifted her gun, taking aim at Lilah’s back. “Not so fast, little girl!” Her finger twitched on the trigger.

  Roger threw himself on her raised arm, yanking it down just as the gun fired. The bullet hit the ground a foot behind Lilah. She screamed and stumbled, falling to her hands and knees.

  “Lilah! Run!” Jessalyn yelled.

  Mamie was struggling with Roger, still hanging onto her arm. “Let go of me, you—NO!”

  In the commotion, Samuel had snatched the skull out of her grip. “Jessalyn! Catch!”

  Before she had time to respond, Samuel threw the skull towards her in a high arc. It spun awkwardly, unbalanced between its large beak and crest. She watched it fall and held out her hands, praying. The point of the beak collided with her shoulder and Jessalyn flinched at the stabbing pain, but managed to bring her arms up and clutch the long skull to her chest.

  Both Samuel and Roger were restraining Mamie now, Roger still trying to extract the gun. She grunted and shouted across the plateau. “Jessalyn Joy, don’t you dare! If you break that talisman, you doom us all!”

  Reverend Finley rose to his feet, the desperation plain on his face. “She’s right, Jessalyn! If we lose charge of this power, we lose everything!”

  Jessalyn stared at the skull in her hands. This power, this magic, whatever it was. This was all they had. This mattered more to them than the actual lives they said they’d keep safe. This mattered more. Ebenezer was dead because this mattered more. Charlie was injured because this mattered more. This wasn’t the way things would go. Not anymore.

  “No,” she said. “There’s another way. There always is. No more secrets or lies. We’re done with this. We’re done.” She dropped the skull to the ground and stamped down hard, crushing it beneath her boot.

  A loud sound crashed over their heads. Jessalyn looked up to the sky. The cloud cover had begun to swirl, streaking the mass with shadows. The sound came again. It wasn’t quite thunder, it was lower and pulsing. Jessalyn could feel the beat penetrate her skin, vibrating in her bones.

  Mamie Piper looked at her, strands of hair whipping across her face in
the fierce wind that was now blowing around them. “What have you done?” she yelled.

  Jessalyn couldn’t look away from the hulking cloud. A light had joined the pulsing noise, illuminating the cloud at intervals from the inside. It was like lightning, but also not like it. It was a bright, piercing blue, defining the contours of the cloud each time it burst. Jessalyn squinted. She could have sworn there was some other sort of shape inside the cloud.

  The pounding noise grew louder and louder. Lilah, still crouched on the ground, and Roger had their hands pressed over their ears. Jessalyn wanted to do the same, but found she couldn’t move.

  Then a new sound broke the rhythm. High, soaring, almost an ethereal note, it exploded through the sky. The wind raced past her face, and as Jessalyn watched, the massive cloud above them scattered into hundreds of small wisps.

  The wind died out.

  The light dimmed.

  And as they faded, Jessalyn finally made a connection to something she had experienced before. A low steady pulse, like the beating of wings. A sharp cry, like the call of a bird of prey.

  She looked to Samuel, and found him staring back at her. “Oh, my Lord . . .” she said.

  “This is crazy,” Samuel said.

  Roger stared into the now clear evening sky. “It’s . . . it’s free.”

  22

  THE HALL OF THREE WILLOWS’ church was as crowded as ever that Sunday morning. It was still July, after all. There were many more days of heat to come. As the notes of the hymn faded away, Jessalyn watched Roger ascend to the pulpit, pushing his glasses back onto his nose. He took a deep breath, and began to speak.

  “People of Three Willows. This marks my first sermon as the official reverend of this church. This is . . . a great honor, and an even greater responsibility. And so, I want to take this opportunity to speak to you all not of God, not about the stories if the Bible, but simply about us. About people.

  “When I first began my studies of the scripture, I often was left with feelings of inadequacy. How could I ever hope to teach these lessons? How could I ever hope to be as righteous as I ought? What miracles were in my power? I’m just a man. And maybe some of you feel that way. Not just regarding faith, but in any part of your life. Perhaps you are burdened by feelings of guilt, fear, loneliness, or hatred.

  “But to you, I say, no matter what you feel, you will be forgiven. When we gather here, in this place of worship, we strengthen our bonds not only as parishioners, but as friends. Neighbors. Human beings. Look around you. Look to your fellow man. Find absolution for your guilt. Find comfort for your fear. Find love for your hate. If we do that, my friends, if we rely on each other, work together, then we can withstand whatever comes our way. And that, if you ask me, is a true miracle.” Roger raised his hands. “Go in peace.”

  “Amen,” chorused the congregation.

  Samuel stretched, turning to Jessalyn. “You weren’t squirming in your seat. Did Preach take all your notes this time?”

  Jessalyn smiled. “As a matter of fact, this was my first time hearing that particular sermon. Roger didn’t ask for my assistance. Not that he needed it.”

  “No, no. It was a fine speech.”

  “He’s going to do a lot of good work in this town. He already has.”

  It had been nearly a week since they had followed the Founders into the mountains and learned the secrets Three Willows was built on. Jessalyn was almost surprised at how she’d been able to slip back into some semblance of normalcy. She still had her house, her students, her books, her letters. She still had her life.

  As they exited the church, Jessalyn spied the blonde heads of the Templeton children, and steered Samuel in that direction.

  Lilah had her arm around Charlie’s shoulders as he wobbled on a pair of crutches that looked slightly too large for him.

  “Those crutches make me nervous, Charlie,” Lilah said to her younger brother.

  “Why?”

  “ ‘Cause Jule made them, and he wouldn’t know a whittling knife from a wet noodle.”

  “They’re fine, Lilah,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes. “Quit fussin’ .”

  Lilah rubbed his head vigorously. “Absolutely not. After all we’ve been through, you’re getting a heaping helping of fuss from me.”

  “Listen to your sister, now,” Jessalyn said.

  Lilah brightened. “Miss Joy! Sam!”

  “Good morning, Lilah. And hello, Charlie!”

  Samuel bent down to greet the young boy. “Well, look at you. Back on your feet in record time. How’re you doing, kid?”

  “I feel all right. Thanks, Sam,” said Charlie.

  “The doctor said there wasn’t any muscle damage, and the bone is all in place to heal up. Pretty soon, he’ll be right as rain,” Lilah said.

  “That’s wonderful news,” said Jessalyn.

  “You’re young. You’re elastic. I got into all sorts of scrapes when I was your age, and my body’s working fine,” Samuel said, flexing an arm. “Although, if you’re lucky, you might get to keep a scar or two from all this.”

  Charlie tilted his head. “Why?”

  “Trust me, kid. You’ve got a scar and a battle story to go with it? Every man you meet is gonna wish they were as slick as you.”

  “Even Noah Heeley?”

  Samuel nodded, despite having never met Noah Heeley before. “You bet.”

  Charlie laughed to himself and swung his leg. Caleb and Calvin ran rings around him while Emmy used a crutch to pull herself to her tiny feet.

  “Just wait there, kids. I’ll be right back.” Lilah turned to the two adults. Lowering her voice, she said, “Thanks, Sam.”

  “I’d have told him it was a surefire way to impress the ladies, too, but he seems a bit young to be interested in that.”

  Lilah smiled, then paused. “Miss Joy, Sam . . . have you thought about what we’re going to do now?”

  It was certainly the question they had all been avoiding this week. “News has spread about Mayor Carson’s . . . accident,” Jessalyn said. They had brought his body with them on their return trip and had grimly delivered it to Doctor Hale. Jessalyn was sure there would be questions, since his cause of death was quite obviously a gunshot, but after a private word with Reverend Finley, it seemed that it wouldn’t be a problem. “Reverend Finley has stepped down,” she went on, “and his last act was taking charge of Mamie and leaving town.”

  “She ought to be in jail,” Lilah said.

  “She needs a certain kind of care,” Jessalyn said, though she agreed. “The reverend can help her get it.”

  “I don’t think they’ll be coming back any time soon,” said Samuel. “Roger is perfectly fit for the job. People will look to him until things get sorted out.”

  “And . . . the rest of it?” Lilah asked.

  Jessalyn knew what she meant. “We still don’t know how much of what they told us on the mountain is true. I suppose it’s best to just wait, and be prepared for the next storm, whatever it may be.”

  Lilah looked up at the sky. It was clear and blue, as it had been all week. No storms. No rain. No clouds at all. The effects of a full seven days of hot sunshine in Three Willows was starting to show. Along the edges of roads, the grass looked a little browner. The ground baked and cracked in places. The trees held their branches a little more limply. Jessalyn was certain they all had noticed. If things continued on this way, everyone else would soon notice, too. Maybe Mamie had gotten her wish after all. Change was coming. And they would do their best to weather it.

  “Okay,” Lilah said. “We’ll see what happens.”

  “Absolutely,” agreed Samuel.

  “Well. I should go catch up with Charlie. Oh, Miss Joy! We’ll be able to pick up our lessons again soon, right? It’s time to start a new book.”

  “I’ll be ready. Take care, Lilah.” Jessalyn waved as the girl dashed off to corral her siblings.

  “If,” Samuel said, “by c
hance, you were looking for recommendations—”

  “I’ll ask Roger,” said Jessalyn. “Lilah might like exploring a new genre.”

  Samuel snorted loudly. She grinned at him. “Are you heading to the schoolhouse?” he asked.

  “Later on, yes.” She paused.

  Jessalyn looked at the man who had shared so much with her in such a short amount of time. Who she still hadn’t given all her thoughts to. Who was owed a little more. It felt like the right time. “Would you walk with me?”

  “Where to?”

  “I realized there’s still one place in town I’ve yet to take you.”

  23

  AMOS WILLIAM JOY

  December 6, 1827 - March 23, 1862.

  SAM STARED DOWN AT THE simple, efficient gravestone. Jessalyn had led him to a small, well maintained cemetery behind the church. The neat rows of graves were shaded by the three large willow trees, their branches bending over like mourners themselves.

  “Is this . . .?” he asked, though the answer was obvious.

  Jessalyn stood next to him. “This is Amos’s grave. I thought you might like to see it.”

  “I . . . yes, thank you.” In the days that had passed since they’d returned from the mountain, Jessalyn hadn’t mentioned his confession once. They’d fallen back into their routine of cohabitating in her house. He’d been starting to wonder if she was just going to lock it away, pretend it never happened. Another heartbreak that would fester inside her. He hoped it wouldn’t.

  After a moment, she spoke. “You once called me the ‘holier-than-thou school teacher’, and I accused you of not being as smart as you thought you were. I believe there’s space for us to meet in the middle. As it turns out, there’s a lot I don’t know either.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Nothing scared me more on that night than the thought of watching you, or Roger, or Lilah die, and not being able to do anything about it. Those moments of hopelessness . . . That’s something I’ve never felt before. Even after Amos, death was always something distant. When I found it staring me in the face down the barrel of a gun, things weren’t so easy. I wanted to save everyone, I wanted to save myself, and there was no time to think.”