Wind Over Marshdale

by Tracy Krauss

  “Of course not,” she bit back, her voice a harsh whisper. “And please keep your voice down.”

  Thomas surveyed her for a moment, his eyes cold. “You white women are all the same.”

  His words stung more than a slap. How dare he say such a rude and racist thing? Yet she couldn’t respond. Her throat was clogged with tears and she knew if she tried to speak it would come out like a wail.

  He didn’t wait for any response anyway. He turned and was up the steps and out the door before she knew it. Thanks, Ronald. You’ve managed to prove your point yet again. With her hand to stifle the sobs that were still unuttered, she dashed to the safety of her bedroom and flung herself face-first into her pillow. No matter how heartbroken she was, Mrs. Beatry must not hear.

  Chapter Twenty

  A pristine blanket of snow covered the earth. With the thrill of a child, Rachel donned mitts and a scarf before venturing out into the clean whiteness. The first snowfall always filled her with a sense of excitement, no matter how many years the cycle continued. It seemed like a lifetime since the encounter with Thomas, although it hadn’t really been that long, and two lifetimes since she’d last seen or heard from Con. But with the stoicism of one used to her lot in life, she managed to compartmentalize her heart into a safe, impenetrable box and carry on. At least now her resolve to avoid a relationship was firmly back in place. She walked briskly to school, puffing out clouds of frozen breath as she went.

  “Good morning, Rachel,” a male voice said cheerfully, coming in line with her stride.

  “Oh, good morning, Steve,” Rachel replied with a smile. Not even Steve Friest could dampen her spirits on this fine day. Actually, he had been behaving himself lately. It seemed his attentions were directed elsewhere these days.

  “Beautiful day,” he commented.

  “That it is,” she replied.

  “Are all your little ghosts and goblins ready for the big day?”

  “Ready? They’ve been chomping at the bit for weeks!” Rachel laughed.

  “Halloween was always my favorite holiday when I was a kid,” Steve recalled. “All that candy! Mmm! Playing tricks was kind of fun, too.”

  “I hear they have quite a patrol around here for the occasion,” Rachel said.

  Steve made a scoffing sound. “Takes the fun right out of it, I’d say.”

  “I suppose there must be good reasons for it.”

  “I guess there was quite a bit of vandalism in years back. Teenagers, you know.”

  “I also heard something about a fire.”

  “Yeah,” Steve replied. “I guess some kids lit an old abandoned building on fire outside of town, but it got away from them. One kid didn’t make it out. Pretty sad.”

  “Hmm,” Rachel agreed. They had reached the school, and with a short farewell, they parted ways.

  There was a big Halloween carnival planned at school that day and it was sure to be a hectic affair. It was not a normal kindergarten day, but inevitably, a few kindergarten children did show up, as parents assumed that the Halloween carnival constituted an exception to the rule. With the excitement of the carnival and lots of treats to come, there was little point trying to focus on academics with her special needs students anyway. Robbie Nordick, the six-year-old with the speech problem, still remained an enigma. He was usually a pleasant and happy little child, except for the odd occasion when he didn’t get his way, but for some reason he would not allow any intelligible words to come out of his mouth. He simply continued to point and grunt—and smile every time he got what he wanted.

  As for Brandi Lane, the troubled girl from the troubled home—she had still not come back to school.

  ****

  Pastor Todd seated himself at the kitchen table. Ah! A nice, quiet lunch at home with his wife. Amanda was already down for her nap and Bradley had stayed at school for lunch today. If he was lucky, Carol might agree to a little afternoon delight, although he doubted it since she was particularly on edge today. Again. This time it was their discussion earlier about the upcoming Halloween party at school next week. He’d decided that Bradley could go, and the boy was over the moon, much to his mother’s dismay. Last year, Bradley had stayed home from school. Normally, the family tried to downplay the holiday. No use celebrating the devil, especially when you were a pastor. Actually, there was a time when he had been quite adamant about it. His children would absolutely NOT take part in any Halloween festivities.

  But his views had changed since coming to Marshdale, thanks in part to Marni Hyde. “Let the children have their fun,” she had said—rather, insisted. Previous pastors had actually participated whole-heartedly; staged their own alternative parties at the church, even. The least he and his family could do was show some community spirit. After all, it was a community event.

  Carol had objected at first. She had been raised in a strict home where Halloween was taboo. But what could it hurt? It was all in fun. Just like playing dress up, only everybody participated and on the same day. There was no use rocking the boat and if the board thought it was okay… She had finally conceded. As long as the children wore positive, non-devilish, non-violent, non-magical costumes.

  How lame was that, he frowned. When he was a kid—when kids were still allowed to have some fun—he used to love dressing up as Dracula or the Grim Reaper. The bloodier and more gruesome the better. Funny how his perspective had changed. He’d gone through his pious period while in seminary and then for the first ten years of marriage. But now he felt—what? Skeptical? Doubtful? Dead inside.

  Christians could do that to one another. Like hyenas singling out the young, the old, or the weak. Oh sure. They put on a pretty good front. Pasted on their Sunday morning smiles. And they talked a good line about forgiving and loving. But just let one of theirs slip up and they were ready to pounce. He’d felt the sharp fangs as they broke through the skin and into flesh. It smarted. And he had bled.

  “I just made sandwiches and soup,” Carol said, placing the soup pot directly on the table on top of a hot pad.

  “Whatever you made is fine,” Todd nodded with a smile. “It’s just nice to have some peace and quiet for a change.”

  Carol sat across from him and started ladling the soup into the two bowls. “I just hope Bradley will be able to get into his own costume, that’s all. Maybe I’ll have to go to the school and help.”

  “Give the boy a break,” Todd scoffed. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. What’s he going to be anyway? A cowboy?”

  “What’s wrong with a cowboy?” Carol asked, sniffing. “You know how I feel about those devilish costumes.”

  “I know, I know,” Todd conceded.

  “And we agreed,” Carol continued. “He can go to the party at school, but I am not handing out candy!”

  Todd raised a hand in surrender. “Why are you starting a fight? I know all that. We’ll hide out in the basement and watch a movie or something.”

  Carol let out a pent-up breath. “I hate this time of year. It’s just so… so evil! I’m always glad when November first finally comes around and I can stop looking at witches and goblins at every turn.”

  “I agree,” Todd placated. “Mmm. Good soup.”

  The doorbell rang. “I wonder who that could be?” Carol scraped her chair back from the table.

  “Just leave it. Pretend we’re not home,” Todd advised. “Don’t people know it’s lunch time?”

  “We can’t do that. Whoever it is has probably already heard us,” Carol scolded. She went to the side door, leaving Todd to slurp at his soup.

  It didn’t take long for him to realize who was at the door. He heard her shrill voice, even before she stepped through the entrance. “Is the Pastor at home? I simply must see him.”

  Marni Hyde.

  “We’re just sitting down to lunch,” he heard Carol say. As if that would stop Miss Hyde.

  “This will only take a moment,” Marni blustered, her volume already increasing as she advanced through the hall. “Pastor, there
you are!”

  Todd looked to where Miss Marni Hyde had appeared in the kitchen doorway. Where else did she expect to find him at lunch time, he wondered? He pasted on ‘the’ smile. “Miss Hyde. Good to see you.” His gaze met Carol’s. The irony was too much.

  “Can I get you a cup of tea?” Carol asked, always the dutiful Pastor’s wife.

  “No, thank you,” Marni clipped. “This won’t take long.”

  “Um, sit down,” Todd offered, gesturing to a vacant chair. “You don’t mind if I eat my soup before it gets cold?”

  Marni raised an eyebrow at the pot sitting directly on the table before pulling out the chair. She lowered herself onto the chair, checking first, of course, for any crumbs with a sweep of her hand. “I won’t be responsible if something bad happens. Just as long as you remember I warned you.”

  Her penetrating gaze was pinned on Todd and he felt his Adam’s apple bob awkwardly as he swallowed some soup. “In regard to…?”

  “To those natives, of course!” she exclaimed, as if it should have been obvious.

  “Okay…” He waited expectantly and set down his spoon.

  “The townspeople are getting quite upset, I can tell you. They will not sit back idly and allow a takeover.”

  “I hardly think a takeover is—”

  “And,” she cut him off, “I have heard some negative reflection on the church. Their attendance is causing some others to stay away.”

  “Really?” Todd asked, frowning. “I don’t recall anyone in particular not coming. Unless you mean the Cunninghams, but they were going away for a month to visit their daughter in Winnipeg anyway.”

  “Oh, there have been plenty of people,” Marni insisted. “Those that have been considering our church for quite some time, but now—well. Just consider it a lost cause. They won’t be setting foot past our doors any time soon.”

  Probably just as well, Todd mused. Outwardly he continued to smile, “Well, it doesn’t sound like too much cause for concern. I’m sure things will iron themselves out eventually.”

  “Pastor, I don’t think you realize the gravity of the situation,” Marni said, leaning in.

  “Oh?”

  “This not only reflects badly on the church, but…” she hesitated for the theatrical effect. “May I be blunt? It also brings into question your suitability for leadership.”

  “Really?” Todd asked. The smile was fading. He was very, very tired of Miss Marni Hyde.

  “And of course, I am also thinking of the welfare of those poor young children. They had no choice in their parentage, of course. But to subject them to such as what I fear might happen…”

  “What are you talking about?’ Todd asked, scrutinizing her face.

  “There will be violence,” Marni stated. “Mark my words. I don’t know what, but people will not just stand around and do nothing to protect themselves and their property.”

  “You think someone would actually hurt them?” Carol interjected, joining the conversation for the first time. She still stood by the doorway, clasping and unclasping her hands.

  “Who knows? Vandalism or worse.” Marni sat back in her chair with a satisfied look.

  Todd strove for a poker face, but he already knew she could see the worry that had passed over his features. She knew he wouldn’t want to be involved in such a scandal. “And what exactly am I supposed to be doing about it?”

  “You are their pastor, in a manner of speaking,” Marni replied. “Advise them to leave, before it’s too late.”

  “I would hope the people of Marshdale wouldn’t stoop to such things,” Carol stated.

  Marni Hyde shrugged, an over-exaggerated motion as she stood regally from the table. “At least I have done my duty. You can’t say I didn’t warn you. You’ll also be happy to know that the town council did not approve that vile cultural center either. So you might as well encourage them on their way.” She turned and headed for the door, stopping to run a finger along the wainscoting. She surveyed the dust, but didn’t say anything, allowing her raised brows to speak instead.

  Carol came back to the kitchen and plopped down at the table, looking almost ready to cry.

  “Never mind her,” Todd soothed. “This is Marshdale. Nothing is going to happen.” He patted her hand.

  “How can you just sit back and say that?’ Carol asked. “What if something does happen?”

  “Maybe it would be best if they did leave,” Todd mused. “Not just for others but for them, too. I mean, really. They don’t fit in here.”

  Carol surveyed her husband for a minute. “I don’t understand. How can you be so easily manipulated?” Her voice was steady and very quiet.

  Their eyes locked for a moment in silent battle. Without looking away, something changed, ever so subtly.

  “Hmm. I think my soup is cold. How about warming it up for me?” It was the first time he had ever given her ‘the’ smile.

  ****

  Con shut the barn door and wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. Good thing they’d gotten all the hay in before the snow fell. Not that they kept many cattle anyway, but the few they did have along with the horses, kept a man working year round. He strode toward the corral fence, where Ivor was fixing a small break in the rails.

  “Need a hand or you almost finished here?” Con asked his older brother.

  “Just a few more minutes,” Ivor said. “But thanks. You might as well get cleaned up.”

  Con nodded. He was headed into town for the annual Halloween night patrol. He volunteered for the patrol every year. It helped keep the streets safe and reduced vandalism. “Are you going on patrol this year?” he asked.

  “Naw.” Ivor shook his head. “Betty and I just want to stay home for a change. The kids are taking Lisa trick-or-treating, though. Not that she needs more candy.”

  “So Bonita has earned back her car privileges?” Con asked.

  “Yup. How much trouble can she get into with a five-year-old in tow?” Ivor laughed.

  “I guess.” Con frowned.

  “Unless there’s something I should know about,” Ivor responded, surveying his younger brother closely. “She been getting into more trouble behind our backs?”

  “No, no. That’s not it. I was just thinking of something else, that’s all.” Con brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Sure I’m sure. You and Betty stay home and enjoy a nice quiet evening to yourselves for a change. Besides, I’ll be in town to keep an eye on things if need be.”

  The truth was, he’d been thinking of Rachel Bosworth. He wondered if he’d run into her tonight while on patrol. Not that she’d probably be out and about, but he could hope. That school teacher had really gotten under his skin. He could hardly stop thinking about her, although he’d been avoiding her for about a month now. He had determined to leave it in God’s hands, and he was. But he was getting tired of waiting for the answer.

  ****

  The school-wide Halloween carnival was well under way in the gymnasium. A combination of carnival games, too much sugar, and the anticipation of the evenings trick-or-treating, had her charges bouncing off the walls. Rachel was dressed as a gypsy, with a swinging skirt, bandana and large hoop earrings and was presently in line with some students at the fish pond. One of the senior students was crouched behind a makeshift screen and attached prizes to the fishing pole that was swung over the top. Billy Chang was manning the “pond,” taking tickets and helping the kids to swing the pole.

  “Are you going out this evening?’ Rachel asked Billy conversationally.

  “No,” Billy shook his head.

  “Of course not,” she chided herself. “You’re probably too old for that sort of thing.”

  “Actually, my family doesn’t really celebrate Halloween.”

  “Oh?”

  “No. My parents don’t feel it honors God,” Billy explained.

  “I see,” Rachel nodded. Actually, she didn’t see. What was wrong wi
th kids having a little fun? She really didn’t get this God thing. “But it’s okay for you to participate here?”

  “Well, actually that was my choice,” Billy admitted, almost sheepishly. “Since it’s my last year of school and everything. I am almost eighteen,” he added, as if that qualified everything.

  Bonita McKinley, dressed as a black cat, approached.

  “Hi, Bonita,” Billy greeted with an animated smile.

  “Hi,” she responded, hardly noticing.

  “I thought maybe you forgot about your shift,” he said with a slight laugh.

  “You’re spelling Billy off?” Rachel asked.

  “Hmm,” she barely acknowledged as she took her place on a little wooden chair beside the screen. “So what do I do?”

  Billy explained the finer points of making sure the fishing line got over the screen without snagging anything else. “Then Matt’ll clip a prize onto the line like this and you help them take if off the clip once they reel it in.”

  Two little girls wearing princess outfits were next in line. “Is it my turn now?” Princess One asked.

  “Yes it is,” Rachel responded. The first princess “cast” and Bonita made sure the line made it over the screen without getting tangled. After the princess got her prize, her friend went next.

  “I got pretend makeup!” Princess Two said.

  “I got a hackie,” Princess One countered. They showed each other their treasures and went skipping off.

  Bonita sighed heavily and looked at her watch. “How much longer?”

  “It’s over at two-thirty, I think,” Rachel answered. “The elementary grades are going back to their classrooms for a bit while you seniors get to clean up. Or so I’ve been told.”

  Bonita sighed again. “That’s another half an hour.”

  “Um, I could probably handle it if you want,” Billy offered. “It hasn’t been that busy.”

  A spark of life seemed to flicker across the girl’s face. “Really?”