by John Saul
Cassie nodded, then she, too, disappeared out the back door. When she was gone, the smile on Keith’s face faded and he turned to Rosemary. “Now, what is all this?” he asked. “It’s obvious you don’t want me to take this charter. And I presume it has to do with Cassie. Right?”
Rosemary took a deep breath. “I just … well, I just don’t feel comfortable with her, that’s all.”
Keith’s eyes rolled impatiently. “For God’s sake, haven’t we been through this before? She’s fine now.”
“She’s not fine!” Rosemary snapped. “She wouldn’t leave the house for over a week, and when she came home yesterday, she didn’t say a word about school. All she did was go over to the cemetery and sit by Miranda’s grave. She sat there for more than an hour, Keith. I watched her and it was—Well, it was just weird. She had that awful cat on her lap, and she was sitting on the grass next to the grave, petting the cat and talking to herself. Maybe you call that normal, but I don’t!”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Keith rasped. “She’s having a rough time, and except for Eric, Miranda was the only person in town who was nice to her. So is it a crime that she went to visit her grave?”
“But it isn’t just that,” Rosemary pleaded.
“Then what is it?” Keith demanded.
Rosemary cast around in her mind for something concrete, something Keith couldn’t simply dismiss. “All right. Before we came downstairs I told her she had to clean her room this morning. Instead she’s off playing in the park with Jen.”
“So? Maybe she forgot.”
Now Rosemary’s eyes flashed. “Or maybe she was just playing us off against each other!”
“Make up your mind,” Keith said, his voice taking on a cutting edge of sarcasm. “Is she crazy, or is she manipulative, or is she both?” The sarcasm gave way to cold anger. “Or are you just imagining things?” Turning his back on her, Keith returned to his marine charts.
When he started out of the house twenty minutes later, the anger between them still hung heavy in the atmosphere. Rosemary knew he wouldn’t be back before he took the boat out. “Keith?” she blurted. He turned back, but his hand stayed on the half-open screen door. As their eyes met, she could see that he was in as much pain as she.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She went to him and slipped her arms around him, burying her face against his chest. “We can’t just leave it like this. Please?”
She felt him stiffen for a moment, but his arms went around her and he held her close. “It’s going to be all right, baby,” he whispered. “I’m sorry too. But I just can’t believe there’s anything really wrong with her.”
Rosemary hesitated, then nodded, her head pressed close to his chest. “When will you be back?”
“Tuesday, maybe Wednesday. They weren’t sure.” He held her away from him then. “And you can always get me on the radio. You know that. Okay?”
She hesitated, wanting to beg him not to go, to back out of the charter just this once. But in the end she nodded again. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
And then he was gone, and Rosemary was alone.
Cassie was pushing Jennifer on one of the swings when she first saw Lisa Chambers and Teri Bennett walking along Oak Street. At first she thought they were going to pass by without noticing her. But then Lisa glanced in her direction and came to an abrupt stop, putting out a hand to stop Teri as well. At Cassie’s feet Sumi opened his eyes and stood, a soft mewing emerging from him as he pressed himself against her legs and twined his tail around her calf.
“Would you look at that?” Cassie heard Lisa say loudly to Teri, intending to be overheard. “Do you believe Mrs. Winslow’s letting her take care of Jennifer? She must be as crazy as Cassie is!”
Swallowing the sudden surge of anger that rose in her, Cassie forgot the swing.
“Push me,” Jennifer called out. “How come you stopped?” Then, as the swing gradually came to a stop, Jennifer saw the two girls standing at the edge of the park, watching them. “Just pretend they’re not there,” she told Cassie. “Maybe they’ll go away.”
Instead, Lisa left the sidewalk and started across the lawn toward them. When she was a few yards away she stopped again, her lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Didn’t anyone tell you about Cassie?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Jennifer.
Jennifer got up from the swing and moved next to Cassie. “Tell me what?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Lisa’s eyes glinted maliciously. “That she’s a witch, just like Miranda was.”
Jennifer gasped. “Th-that’s not true,” she stammered. But in her head she heard an echo of Wendy Maynard’s singsong chant after school yesterday. “Cassie is a wi-itch. Cassie is a wi-itch.”
“How do you know?” Lisa taunted. “She has a cat, doesn’t she? Don’t all witches have cats?”
Cassie, her temples throbbing with anger, stepped forward. “Stop it, Lisa,” she said. “Why do you want to scare her? She’s only a little girl.”
“Why should I stop it?” Lisa sneered. “Maybe it’s true! Besides, what can you do about it? You don’t have Miranda’s hawk anymore, do you? Mr. Templeton shot it! So what are you going to do?”
Cassie’s eyes narrowed and she reached down to pick Sumi up. His body was tense, and the fur on his hackles was standing up stiffly. His soft mewling had turned into a hiss, and she could feel his claws flexing.
“Do you want me to let Sumi go?” she asked. “Is that what you want me to do?”
Lisa’s twisted grin faded slightly. “You think I’m afraid of a crummy cat?” she asked. “Or are you going to put a hex on me?” Bolstered by her own words, she grinned again and turned her attention back to Jennifer. “That’s what she did to Mr. Simms, Jennifer. She put a hex on him and made him go crazy. Is that what you want her to do to you too? Make you as crazy as Mr. Simms?”
Jennifer was trembling now. Suddenly all the stories she’d heard about Miranda came back to her. Instinctively she took a step away from Cassie, and Lisa saw the movement.
“That’s right. You’d better get away from her. If I were you, I wouldn’t even want to sleep in the same house with her. You don’t know what she might do to you in the middle of the night, do you?”
With that, Cassie’s anger erupted. “Stop it!” she shouted. “Stop it right now!”
“Why?” Lisa taunted. “What are you going to do about it?”
Cassie froze, and Miranda’s words echoed once more in her mind. Don’t let them hurt you.
But it was too late, and she ignored Miranda’s words, letting her anger run free.
“I’ll kill you,” she shouted, her eyes burning with tears. “If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll kill you!”
For a moment Lisa said nothing, but then her mouth opened and an ugly peal of laughter burst from her throat. “You can go to hell, Cassie Winslow,” she shouted. “In fact, why don’t you? Nobody wants you around here!” Still laughing, she turned back to Teri Bennett. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get out of here before she cracks up completely.”
Cassie stared after Lisa, fury churning inside her. She could feel it coursing through her, making her whole body shake.
Her limbs trembled with it, and after a moment she felt Sumi begin trembling too. Suddenly the cat leaped from her arms and streaked across the park after Lisa.
No! Cassie thought. Stop!
Instantly the cat stopped running and turned back to look at Cassie. Both the girl and the animal stood frozen for a split second. Then the cat—as if obeying some unspoken order—trotted back and rubbed itself against Cassie’s leg.
The tight knot of anger in Eric Cavanaugh’s belly hadn’t relaxed in the slightest, despite the three hours of hard work he’d put himself through since the fight with his father that morning.
He still wasn’t exactly sure what had triggered Ed’s explosion, unless it had been the mere sight of Cassie Winslow coming out of the house next door.
&nb
sp; “What you starin’ at, boy?” his father had growled.
Eric looked up from his plate of greasy hominy cakes—the breakfast his father insisted on every Saturday morning, and which Eric and Laura did their best to pretend they liked, though the very sight of them made both of them slightly nauseated. He shook his head. “I’m not staring at anything—”
“Don’t you lie to me, Mr. Smartmouth,” Ed had cut in, his eyes glittering dangerously. “Don’t you think I know what goes on in that head of yours?”
Frowning in puzzlement, Eric had glanced out the window just in time to see Cassie and Jennifer disappearing around the corner onto Cambridge Avenue. “I wasn’t staring at anything, Dad,” he insisted, though he knew that arguing with his father was useless. Once Ed had made up his mind about something, there was no changing it.
“You were starin’ at her!” his father snapped, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet so abruptly that the chair tipped over and crashed to the floor. Eric flinched involuntarily, and his father’s mouth twisted into a vicious smile of victory. “Thought you could fool me, didn’t you?”
“Leave him alone, Ed,” Laura pleaded, standing next to the sink. “Can’t you just let him finish his breakfast? He wasn’t looking at anyone!”
Ed’s hangover-induced fury quickly shifted focus, and he sneered at Laura. “How’s anybody ’sposed to eat this slop?” he demanded.
“I thought you liked it—” Laura blurted, then stopped herself. But it was too late.
Ed’s hand snaked out to strike her across the face with enough force to knock her off balance. She stumbled, then fell to the floor, her head banging against the door of the cupboard below the sink. “Don’t you argue with me, you worthless bitch,” he stormed.
“Stop it, Dad!” Eric yelled. “She didn’t do anything to you, and neither did I. Why don’t you just go get drunk and leave us alone!”
Trembling, Ed faced his son, but this time Eric, who was on his feet now, showed no fear. “Try it, Dad,” he said quietly. “Just go ahead and try it. I’m done letting you beat up on me for things I never did.”
Ed’s eyes flickered uncertainly. “You ain’t big enough to take your old man,” he snarled, certain that the words alone would be enough to cow Eric.
But Eric’s jaw only tightened. “Try it, Dad,” he challenged. “Just go ahead and try it. I’ll kick the shit out of you so fast you won’t even remember what happened.”
For a moment Ed wavered, and Eric had been certain his father was going to swing at him. If he did, Eric would have to make up his mind what to do. Would he really strike back at his own father? No, not yet. It wasn’t quite time. Not quite.
But instead of taking a swing at him, Ed had shambled toward the door. “Some goddamn son you are,” he mumbled. “What kind of kid threatens his old man?” Then he was gone, and both Eric and Laura knew where he was going. He’d start out drinking on his boat, then move to the Whaler’s Inn. And when he was drunk enough, he’d come home.
When they were alone, Eric had tried to help his mother, but she’d shaken her head and waved him away. “Just leave me alone,” she said, her voice muffled. “I’ll be all right.”
He’d gone outside then, and begun the weekly routine of yardwork, but even the work hadn’t helped. His mind refused to concentrate on the job.
Instead he kept thinking about the rage growing within him.
It wasn’t just his father anymore, he knew. The anger was spilling over now, onto his mother too.…
Before—when the rage had grown to the point where he thought he might burst—he’d always gone to the marsh and talked to Miranda.
Always—since he was ten years old, and Miranda had come home from the hospital—she’d been there for him. He had been able to go out to her cabin and sit with her—Sumi snuggled comfortably in his lap—and pour out the rage. And no matter how bad it had been—how filled with hatred he’d been—Miranda had always listened to him, comforted him, and accepted him. She’d been his friend, always there.
She had taught him how to control the rage, how to use it, how to bury it so deep that no one else even knew it was there.
She had taught him how to survive.
And then Cassie had come, and Miranda—the only person who had ever been Eric’s alone—had taken her in too.
“She’s just like you, Eric,” Miranda had told him on that last afternoon when he’d gone to visit her. “And I’ve known her just as long. I found her the same day I found you, when you were both so young. And I won’t turn away from her. I won’t, and you mustn’t either. She needs us, Eric. She needs both of us.”
That day his rage had turned for the first time on Miranda. But he’d kept it under control, hidden it so deep that even she—who could see everything—hadn’t been able to see it. And then, late that night, he’d gone back to the marsh.
But even after Miranda had died, even after he’d finally given in to the rage within him, it hadn’t stopped.
Instead the fury only seemed to feed on itself, growing ever stronger.
And then, the day Simms threw him off the baseball team, Miranda’s words came back to him. But Miranda had been wrong. He suddenly understood that it wasn’t Cassie who needed him.
It was he who needed Cassie.
Needed her so that when he finally released all the rage that had built up within him over the years, it would be Cassie who took the blame.
And it would begin today, when they released Kiska.
He put the mower back in the garage and hung the edging clippers on their nail in the wall. After he closed the garage door, he crossed the double driveway and knocked at the Winslows’ back door. A moment later Rosemary Winslow stepped out into the service porch and held the screen door open for him.
He composed his features into the friendly smile that had long ago become the mask behind which he hid the furies burning within him. “Is Cassie here?”
Rosemary frowned uncertainly. “I—well, yes, she is. But I’m not sure she’s feeling too well. When she got back from the park, she went up to her room, and she hasn’t come down again.”
“Oh,” Eric said, feeling a twinge of disappointment. “Well, when she comes back down, would you tell her I was here?”
“Of course,” Rosemary replied. She was about to let the door swing shut on its spring when Cassie suddenly called out from the kitchen.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
Surprised, Rosemary turned to face Cassie. When she’d come back from the park an hour ago, it was obvious that something had gone wrong, but Cassie had refused to tell her what. Instead she’d disappeared up the stairs, retreating once more into the solitude of her room, shutting Rosemary out. Jennifer, though, told her what had happened, and Rosemary had been tempted to call Harriet Chambers.
Except that you didn’t do that when two teenagers had a spat, did you?
Had it been Jennifer and one of her friends, fine—the two mothers could do their best to straighten it out. But when the kids were Cassie’s and Lisa’s age, shouldn’t she stay out of it?
Now she felt foolish for even having thought of calling Harriet, for obviously Cassie’s anger had passed. She was smiling at Eric now as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
“Hi,” Cassie said to Eric. “You ready?”
Eric nodded. “I would have been here earlier, but—well, you know.”
Cassie’s smile faded. “Your dad?”
Eric shrugged dismissively. “You know what he’s like. Come on.”
As the two teenagers started out the back door, Rosemary reached out and stopped Cassie. “What about your room? Have you cleaned it?”
“I’ll do it later,” Cassie replied. She started to move around Rosemary, but Rosemary stepped sideways to block her path. “You got out of it earlier by taking Jennifer to the park. Now, before you do anything else, I want that room cleaned.”
Cassie’s eyes darkened. “I’ll do it later,” she said again. “Besides, y
ou’re not my mother, and you can’t tell me what to do!”
While Rosemary stared after her in shocked silence, Cassie disappeared out the back door, letting the screen slam behind her.
For just a moment Rosemary considered going after her, then abandoned the idea.
She was going to have at least four days alone with Cassie. She didn’t want to start them off with a fight.
* * *
From the Big Ed’s pilothouse Ed Cavanaugh watched the Morning Star III move sedately out of the harbor as Keith Winslow carefully maneuvered it past the channel markers.
From the provisions he’d watched Keith stowing aboard, it looked like he was planning to be out quite a while. That meant his wife would be alone in the house with Jennifer.
Jennifer, and Cassie.
His mind darkened as he thought of the girl.
He’d seen her watching him. It had been going on ever since Miranda had died, and gotten worse in the last few days, after she’d locked herself up in that room of hers.
Almost every day he’d seen her standing at her window, looking down at him, accusing him, like maybe she thought he’d killed Miranda.
But he hadn’t done anything, no matter what the girl thought. Not that he cared that Miranda was dead—in fact he was glad. At least Eric wouldn’t be wasting any more time going out to that cabin of hers, listening to whatever crap the crazy bitch had been telling him all those years. And Eric thought he was so smart, thought no one knew where he was going all those times when he sneaked out of the house on weekends, leaving all the work for him to do.
He should have stopped it years ago, Ed thought. Would have, too, if there’d been any way he could have kept his eye on the kid all the time. But there wasn’t.
Once he’d even tried to go out to the cabin himself and slap some sense into Miranda. Tell her to leave his kid alone! And after he’d told her—
But he’d never even gotten close to the cabin. The goddamn hawk had seen to that.
So when the old witch had finally gotten what was coming to her, he hadn’t shed any tears.
Except that now Cassie was picking up where Miranda Sikes had left off. Now it was Cassie who Eric was always talking to. And he knew what Eric was telling her.