by Sam Logue
Her mother bit down on her lip and the gesture made her look like a girl. “It’s too late.”
“Maybe it’s not.”
She straightened her posture and watched Katie pointedly, back to her old self again. The stance was so familiar that Katie almost smiled.
“I don’t want to have to tell you this, but I have to. Julian’s old nanny, Agostina, said that Elvina Bloomfield might have had something to do with what happened to Paul,” her mum said.
Katie sat up. “You talked to his nanny? Recently?”
“Yes, but I didn’t understand half of what she was talking about. She kept mentioning ‘Readers’.”
Katie’s palms dampened and she reached under the table and wiped them across her jeans. “Did you tell anyone? The police?”
Victoria shook her head. “What she said doesn’t make any sense. I’m afraid if I go to the police station, they’ll think I’ve lost it again. You know my history with them. They already think I’m nuts as it is.”
“They won’t believe the story anyway. But we’ve – I’ve – taken care of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not going to be a problem anymore. Trust me,” Katie said, getting up.
“Wait. Is Julian bad?”
“No. His mum is – was. Will you trust me?”
“She was?” Her mother paused. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that, but …” Then for the first time in Katie’s life, her mother agreed to let her take control.
Later in the afternoon, Katie walked from her parents’ house to the fortune teller’s shop on Main Street, where she climbed up the poorly lit side stairwell to Mrs Eastman’s apartment. A skunk greeted Katie when Mrs Eastman welcomed her inside. The older woman was without her hat and veil.
Katie looked at her again then down at the skunk. “Is it friendly?”
“His scent gland was surgically removed, so, yes, you can pet him without worrying about him spraying you. He behaves just like a cat,” Mrs Eastman said.
“Isn’t it against the law to keep a wild animal as a pet?”
The skunk was meandering around Katie in a circle, sniffing and nuzzling her shoes and innocently peering up at her. It was hard to believe he was a skunk. He had tiny, pink-pearl claws.
Mrs. Eastman’s eyes filled with certainty. “Maybe, but Snapdragon – that’s the skunk’s name – he’s different.”
Katie listened with interest. It was likely this wasn’t the first time Mrs Eastman had said this and that many had laughed at her assertion before.
“You’ve always been nice to me. Why?” Katie asked.
“You’ve got the Mark. You must know what a Reader is by now. You are one, you know,” she said, ignoring Katie’s question.
“I found out.”
“I hope it wasn’t a bad experience.”
Katie shrugged.
“I have a niece who’s a Reader, but most of my family weren’t born Readers. Your husband’s mother was a Reader, too.” Mrs Eastman paused and smiled at Katie’s shock. “I’m sure you had no choice but to take care of her.” She invited Katie inside the living room but Katie found she couldn’t move for a few moments. Had Mrs Eastman just suggested she knew what Katie and Julian had done to Elvina?
Katie had expected Mrs Eastman’s apartment to be as whimsical as she was, but inside it was as normal as her own home. Knick-knacks cluttered the mantelpiece, and they sat on a couch with a lace doily on each armrest.
“Can you do a favour for me?” Katie asked.
“Anything, dear,” Mrs Eastman said, her warm hand patting Katie’s. “One moment.” She got up and returned with a pitcher of lemonade, set it on the coffee table and poured them each a tall, cool glass.
“Do you know the man on the island who wears rag-like clothing?” Katie took a sip. The glass perspired in her hand.
“I might know him.”
“I never got a chance to thank him for trying to help Molly. Can I thank him in person?”
“I’m afraid it’s not possible to see him. You see, he doesn’t like to have any visitors, except me,” Mrs Eastman said.
“Can you thank him for me?”
“I will indeed, but I should probably admit it was me who told him to keep an eye on you and your young family.”
“Like Paul does.” Katie couldn’t tell if Mrs Eastman knew that when she was referring to Paul, she meant his spirit. And while Katie knew it wasn’t Paul who had tried to help Molly, part of her liked to think he had something to do with it.
“Ah, your brother.”
They lapsed into silence and Katie waited for the right moment to ask Mrs Eastman about what she’d really came for. Mrs Eastman still had traces of her younger beauty. Her high cheekbones, smudged with crimson rouge, had lost some of the flesh around their rounded arches, but her skin was luminous.
“Thank you for watching over us. Can I ask you for another favour?” Katie said.
“Ask away.”
“My mother’s seen the man in rags. I need you to tell her he isn’t her son.”
Mrs Eastman’s eyes didn’t widen like a non-believer’s did. “She thinks he’s Paul,” she sighed.
“Can you please tell her he isn’t?”
She put her hand next to Katie’s, moved it closer and patted her wrist. “I’ll do it for you because I think you’re a nice young woman.”
“Thanks for saying that.”
“I said it because it’s true. And have you noticed how the island’s trees are such strange shapes?”
“I know why that is.”
“Oh?”
“Someone told me.”
“And who were they?”
“He’s a man who works for Julian’s – my husband’s – family.”
“There’s one tree in particular that looks a little like a boy. He was the youngest Reader to become a tree beast. He was misled by your husband’s mother into letting him read her. He was very young at the time but already twice as skilled as her, so she considered him competition – fair game, for her. I was his mentor. I still watch out for him from time to time, to make sure no one tries to cut him down. Unfortunately, someone did manage to break his arm off, but I think that was an accident.”
“Can’t we turn him back into a boy?”
“Once the change happens, it’s permanent.”
Katie was relieved there was no chance of Elvina’s return, but the boy’s plight tugged on her heart. He couldn’t have been much older than Paul. “Mrs Eastman …?”
“Yes?”
“Will you really help my mother?”
“Yes, but I need one thing from you. Where can I meet your mother? For instance, how does she spend her mornings?”
“My dad says she’s been taking a walk on the beach by their house every morning, near where that huge house is being built, now that she’s feeling better.”
“I know that house. I’ll see her there.”
Katie said goodbye to Mrs Eastman and Snapdragon, who wiggled his small pink nose up at her.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The next morning, Victoria was up early and she headed for the rural dirt road before Sam woke. She went down the rickety wooden steps that led to the public beach where she liked to walk and took her sandals off, carrying them in her hand as she started down the length of the beach. She didn’t have her swimsuit on but had taken a beach towel with her, just in case she decided to get her feet wet.
A new large house was being built on stilts directly on the beachfront. Victoria veered toward the water and stopped. Gurgling waves rose and lurched toward her, crashing at her bare feet and meeting the sand at the water’s edge. The sand fizzed, and the cold seawater slid down her ankles as though running off a duck’s sleek feathers. She glanced back and the water had darkened all the sand it reached. Gazing farther up the beach, she dropped her sandals to the ground.
A dishevelled man in ragged clothing ran toward her, and Mrs Eastman, out of breath, walked qui
ckly after him.
“Are you all right?” Victoria called out.
The pair slowed down near her. The man was clothed in a torn shirt and pants, his clean feet in old leather sandals. A beard peppered his face.
Mrs Eastman’s eyes sparkled behind the black lace veil on her red hat. She glanced at the rag man then back at Victoria. “Katie said I would find you here.”
“How do you know my daughter?”
“We’re friends. She asked me to show you he isn’t your son.”
Victoria gazed at the tall and handsome grown man in front of her and didn’t see Paul in his kind, dark eyes. “Who is he?” she asked Mrs Eastman.
“Charles, an orphan from the city. I got him away from Elvina because they would want to finish reading him. I’ve kept him safe in the cave for as long as I could and brought him supplies. It’s getting harder now that he’s a man and can think more for himself. But I’m still trying to make up for what I once was.”
“What were you?”
“A member of Elvina’s club. I’m sorry I had to frighten you off when you got too close to the cave.”
“It was you.”
“I am sorry about that. At first I thought you were Elvina, but even when I found out you weren’t, I still had to scare you away because you could have led Elvina there by accident.”
There was that mention of Elvina and Readers again. “You’ve never tried to find his family?”
“The reading was botched—”
Victoria cut Mrs Eastman short. “Why not let him speak for himself?”
Mrs Eastman put her hands on her full hips and flicked her chin toward Charles. “As I was trying to say, he’s unable to think like you or me.”
The wind picked up and blew sand in Victoria’s eyes.
“We’re off,” Mrs Eastman said.
It was the only warning she gave. The wind stopped and the air got hot, as if Victoria were standing in the desert, only she was near the cool sea. Mrs Eastman held Charles’ hand and lifted her skirt a little, like she was about to trot away. The wind started up again. The gusts carried Victoria’s hair above her head.
“Mrs Eastman …” she shouted, and tried to keep her hair from falling in her face. She closed her eyes.
The cries of the seagulls above Victoria were operatic. The wind had vanished and the beach was quiet again. She opened her eyes, and Mrs Eastman and Charles were gone.
****
Detectives found skeletal remains in shallow graves on Elvina’s property – remains of more than one child. The police thought that Elvina was simply a child murderer. Katie waited for them to make an identification of Paul’s bones.
“I’ll never get over the image of them digging in my mother’s yard and working inside all those white tents,” Julian said to her.
“You did the right thing.”
A day later, they drove by Julian’s childhood house with Molly in the back seat, on the way home from having dinner in town.
“Look at that,” Katie said.
Ivy covered the entire house. The growth was so thick that Katie couldn’t see the windows, and the front door was crisscrossed with ivy chains, as though to keep visitors from entering.
She peeked at Molly, asleep in the back. “Is your mother’s house yours now?” she asked Julian.
“Yes. But what if she comes back?”
“She won’t.” Katie heard Molly waking up. “They were taking kids. That’s why Mr Hollingsworth was trying to meet a child. I wonder why he hurt Miss O’Malley, since she was an adult,” Katie whispered to Julian.
He glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “She was starting to suspect them.”
“She knew about Readers?”
“Years ago, I overheard my mother and her friends discussing sending someone to talk to the schoolteacher who was getting curious about them.”
“Miss O’Malley put herself in danger.”
“Like we did.”
Katie lightly placed her hand on top of his on the steering wheel. “The difference is we survived.”
****
Early the next afternoon at the Blackthorn police station a desk sergeant with thinning grey hair, talking on the phone, glanced at Julian from behind the glass front doors when he walked inside.
Julian was on his lunch break. He walked up to the U-shaped desk. The sergeant used his hand to cover the phone’s mouthpiece and stared at him expectantly.
“I’m Julian Bloomfield.”
“I remember you.”
“I need to tell you something else.”
The sergeant watched him with interest and ended the call.
“What I’m going to tell you will sound strange,” Julian said quietly.
“I don’t know about that,” he chuckled. “I’ve worked here for a long time, and I’ve pretty much heard everything.”
“There are others hurting people on our island.”
The sergeant grabbed some paperwork as he got up from behind the desk. “I have to turn these in soon,” he explained about the papers. He motioned for Julian to follow him into an interview room.
Julian sat down at a metal table facing a grey wall.
“Want something to drink? Coffee?” the sergeant asked. “I have to keep an eye on the front desk.” He kept the frosted-glass door open and sat down across from him. “You’ll need to wait until one of the detectives gets back from lunch. In the meantime, you can tell me what this is about.”
Julian straightened his shoulders. “Are you sure we shouldn’t wait until they return?”
The sergeant waved away his question.
“There are people here who call themselves Readers,” Julian said.
“Here? In the station?”
“On the island. They have these – marks on their faces. And while not all of them are bad, some are. There’s one named Dr Marquez who works in the children’s ward at the hospital.”
The sergeant had a round, doughy face and sympathetic eyes. “Are you feeling okay?” He took a pen out of his shirt pocket.
“I don’t know if you understand what I’m telling you, but Readers take the energy people – including children – release when they die, and use it for their own benefit.” Julian glanced around and peered out into the hall. “Maybe someone here can help me do something about them.”
“You must be quite distraught after what’s happened with your mother. Is your wife at home?” The sergeant wrote on the papers he had brought in with him and barely made eye contact with Julian.
“Isn’t anyone going to ask me to sign a statement or something?”
The sergeant put down his pen and looked over at him. “Do you really want your name on a public document that makes crazy claims like that? The island is a small place, and rumours spread fast.” He gathered his papers and got up. “Do yourself a favour and go home to your family,” he said in a sterner voice.
Julian followed him out of the room and went outside to face the cool afternoon. He walked down the station steps and headed back to his office. He would do what he could to stop them on his own.
Chapter Thirty-Five
After they’d found Paul’s bones, for that was all that was left of him, cherry-vanilla roses had appeared in Elvina’s garden in the spot where his bones had been unearthed. On the morning of his funeral, Katie’s mother had moved about as if she might break. She, Nat and her dad had been there to comfort her. On Paul’s coffin, her mum had placed a single cherry-vanilla rose, still sold by the same florist she had gone to all those years ago.
During the reception at her parents’ house, Katie excused herself and stepped outside. Two crows sat on the telephone wire. The sleek dark birds’ presence meant joy. She went into the garage and found the lighthouse painting still obscured in the back, underneath a dust-covered bed sheet. The fisherman with the pipe was back and the image of the boy in the blue parka was no longer there. She stood in the garage doorway and turned her face to the early evening sky. A flock of sta
rlings flew by in a heart formation. Paul’s final gift to her.
Nat came out of the house. “What were you doing in the garage?”
“Looking at the lighthouse painting dad hid in there,” Katie said.
“Is the boy still in the painting?”
“He’s gone. Can’t you feel it?” Katie reached for Nat and he accepted a hug from her.
“It feels right,” he said quietly into her shoulder. “There’s something I want to talk with you about. Would you mind if I asked Alex out?”
“I think that’s a great idea.” Katie smiled at him.
They went back into the house, still holding on to each other. Katie let him go and walked upstairs to the bedroom where her mother sat on the bench at her dressing table.
“Can I use your mirror?” Katie asked.
“Go right ahead.”
Katie leaned over her mother’s shoulder and found her mascara had run and darkened the hollows below her eyes. She fixed her makeup. On her way out, she stopped in the threshold and turned again to her mum. “I know you don’t believe Paul visited me when I was a girl, but I would like to think someday that it’s possible you might.”
“I saw him.”
“You did?”
“One night when your dad wasn’t living here.” Her mother wiped her eyes. “And I didn’t know you were friends with Mrs Eastman.”
“She talked to you?”
Victoria nodded.
“I’m only sorry it didn’t turn out the way you’d hoped,” Katie said, and her mum rose to hug her.
****
The thought of the doctor still being out there prickled Katie’s skin. But he hadn’t gone far. Katie and Julian were walking past the drugstore one night after having a quiet dinner in the village and saw a black and white police cruiser parked next to the sidewalk.
Officer Donovan held the drugstore’s front door open while clutching a black bag. Katie wondered what was going on, but then saw another cop carrying a suitcase and leading out the man they knew as the doctor, who, despite the handcuffs on his wrists, shuffled along with the support of his cane. The doctor resisted the cop a little, and he glanced at Katie. She held his gaze.