by P. G. Forte
“Actually, you know, we don’t have to tell you anything,” Lisa murmured, pausing to light a cigarette. She shook out the match, blew a thick cloud of smoke toward Scout and favored her step-sister with one of the infuriatingly calm, superior smiles that always made Scout want to brain her. “Not if we don’t want to.”
“No. Scout’s right.” From her perch at the foot of Lisa’s bed, Marsha spoke up suddenly. “Things have gotten out of control. She has to know what’s going on now. It’s only fair.”
“Oh, all right! Jeez.” Lucy flung herself into a chair and began absently twisting one lock of her dark, wavy hair around and around on her finger. “Listen, Scout, do you remember last November, when we had that big sleep over at my house and tried to hypnotize each other?”
“Yeah,” Scout answered cautiously. Of course, she remembered. Marsha was studying Psychology and had been full of ideas. She remembered the uncomfortable feeling she’d had afterwards that there was something they weren’t telling her. Very similar to the way she was feeling right now.
Lucy flashed her a nervous grin. “Well, it worked! Girl, you were really amazing. You went into this deep, deep trance and then, well...” she broke off to look at the others.
It was Lisa who picked up the story. “It’s really no big deal, sis. It’s just a little experiment we’ve been trying for our math class.”
Well, that wasn’t anything she’d been expecting. “An experiment. For math class?” Scout sneered at her step-sister. “Tell me something Lisa, do I look stupid to you?”
Lisa’s blue eyes glinted with amusement. “Ohh, you don’t really want me to answer that, Scout, do you?” She leaned back against her pillows. “Look, it’s simple. You know how you’ve got class Monday and Wednesday and our class meets Tuesdays and Thursdays? But it’s the exact same work, right? And the tests she gives are all the same, too? Okay, so, we’ve just been experimenting with having you give us the answers from your work. That’s all.”
“What are you talking about? When have I ever done that? There’s no way.”
Marsha grimaced. “Well yeah, but we kinda gave you a post-hypnotic suggestion, see? So that when we’d say one of the code words you’d go into a trance. Sort of automatically. I think that’s what happened at school today. I think it was accidentally triggered when—”
“Wait a minute.” Scout felt the blood roar in her ears as she tried to wrap her thoughts around the concept. “Since November? That was five months ago!”
She reached for the cigarettes on Lisa’s nightstand. Her hands were shaking as she pulled one out of the pack. “Are you guys telling me that, ever since then, you’ve been... ? How often?”
“Just a couple of times a week,” Marsha admitted.
Scout gasped. “A couple of times every week? All this time? I don’t believe this! How could you?”
Lisa rolled her eyes. She tossed Scout a book of matches and sighed. “Oh, don’t be such a baby. It’s not like we hurt you, or anything. All we did was access a little information. It was like tutoring. You’re always bragging about how you get better grades than the rest of us. At least you used to.” She grinned then, so clearly unrepentant that Scout had to swallow hard before she spoke.
“Okay, but you gotta promise you won’t do it anymore,” she told them, her voice hoarse with the fear that they wouldn’t listen.
“Shit. I knew it was too good to last.” Lucy frowned at her. “C’mon, Scout. What’s the big deal? It’s not like we were asking you about a lot of personal stuff or anything. It’s just freakin’ Algebra!”
“No!” Marsha insisted. She shook her head. “Aren’t you guys listening? We have to stop. It’s getting too dangerous.”
Scout saw Lisa glance sharply at Marsha. Then she turned back toward her and smiled. Sweetly. Far too sweetly. “You know what, Marsha? I think they’re right. We won’t do it anymore, Scout. Unless... are you sure we can’t change your mind? It would be really helpful. Just until the end of the school year?”
“I said no!”
“Shit. And I was just getting used to good grades, too,” Lucy grumbled. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
“I mean it, Lucy. No more.”
“Oh, fine. Fine! We’ll stop.”
But they wouldn’t. Scout knew they wouldn’t. Something icy cold and nasty twisted deep inside her. If they had been coasting for five months, there was no way they could stop now. Not even if they wanted to. They would fail if they stopped now. She briefly considered telling someone – her teacher, her father, Caroline – but just as quickly dismissed it. What could she tell them that wouldn’t just lead to more questions?
She would have to handle this herself. Which left her right back where she’d started. They wouldn’t stop on their own. If she wanted them to stop, she would have to find a way to make it happen. She would have to harness the same power that they were using, and turn it against them.
A car passed along the road in front of the house. She watched the patterns of light and shadow chase each other across her ceiling until the room was cloaked in darkness once again. She couldn’t remember ever having felt so violated, so isolated, so trapped. Or so very angry.
She’d always thought of anger as being fiery and hot, but as the emotions that had been swirling around inside her all day began to coalesce into an icy knot, hard in her stomach, she knew better. Anger could also be deadly cold.
I have to stop them. She forced herself to take deep breaths, fight down the panic that was making her teeth chatter. Forced herself to think. She didn’t know how yet, but she would find a way to stop them.
And then? Then I’ll find a way to make them pay for what they’ve done to me.
Scout thrashed around on the couch as the dream shattered and reformed in her mind. She dreamed next of being pursued through an endless forest of gnarled and twisted trees. Of water pouring in torrents through all the doors and windows of the house even as she rushed to close them. Of pale pink and yellow rose petals falling from the sky; burying her, beneath their softness and their scent, until she couldn’t breathe.
* * *
Lucy woke up with a start shortly after sunrise. The house was quiet; Dan continued to sleep soundly next to her. She thought she’d heard someone shouting her name, but no echo lingered in the morning air. Birds chirped, undisturbed, outside her window.
Whatever disturbed her must have been internal, then. Slipping quietly out of bed, she wrapped her robe around her and went outside to see about the weather.
A thick mist still clung to the trees and the earth felt cool beneath her bare feet, but Lucy felt the promise of sunlight in the breeze. She breathed in deeply, grateful for all the fresh, green scents that rose from her garden. She let her awareness flow out over the yard, savoring the feelings of rightness, of peace, of boundless energy, of eternal, joyful creativity. She soaked in it, allowing herself to become a part of it. Allowing it to become a part of her.
“I knew I’d find you out here.” Dan wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tight. “What are you doing up so early? I thought you’d want to sleep in a bit this morning. Aren’t you tired?” He leaned over to nibble on her ear and Lucy felt a small tremor shiver through her – an echo of last night’s pleasure. “I thought for sure I’d worn you out.”
“Oh, you did, huh?” Lucy smiled. She should be tired, she supposed. And so should he. She turned within the circle of his arms and laid her head against his chest, hugging him fiercely in return. She listened to the slow, steady beating of his heart and sighed contentedly. “Not even close, Cavanaugh. I just couldn’t sleep. Why’re you up?”
“I figured I’d get an early start. I’m going to take the truck down to the fairgrounds now. Get the booth set up ahead of time for a change. Seth’s up, too. He wants to come with me.” A laugh rumbled in his chest. “God help us both. So you’ll just have to worry about taking the girls with you.”
Lucy looked up at him, startled. “
You’re going now? You haven’t even had breakfast!”
Dan leaned down and kissed her. “Mmm. Don’t worry about it. We’ll get something there. See you later, babe.”
He let her go, and Lucy watched him walk back toward the house. Striding off into the mist like some knight-errant, although she had serious doubts whether any suit of armor had ever looked as good as those jeans and work shirt did.
Just as he got to the house, Dan stopped and pivoted. “Hey, babe, since you’re up anyway, why don’t you think about getting an early start yourself? Might be a good idea, you could beat some of the traffic. Get there before noon and I could maybe even be persuaded to treat you to some lunch.”
Lunch. Right. “Really? I thought I’d just throw together a couple of sandwiches for you,” she teased.
Dan smiled. “Well, that could work too, you know. We could have ourselves a little picnic. Just you and me. Way out in the woods somewhere. All alone.”
“I don’t know about you, Cavanaugh.” Lucy shook her head in mock sorrow. “Is that all you can think about – food?”
His laughter drifted back to her through the mist. “Well, you know me, babe.”
Yeah, Lucy thought, brimming with happiness and energy, I certainly do. So he wanted a picnic, huh? Good idea. Perfect, in fact. She imagined soft, creamy Brie paired with some of last night’s left over focaccia. Maybe a roasted zucchini-mint salad. And some fresh strawberries and whipped cream.
Or maybe she’d save the strawberries for tonight, and bring peaches instead. Yes, that was what they wanted. Sweet, ripe peaches dripping with juice. She imagined the taste and the feel of peach skin against her tongue. Mmm. She could hardly wait. She’d better go in now and take her shower and get the girls up. Of course, that might not be so easy. No doubt they’d stayed up half the night talking.
And she would have to make sure Kate took all her stuff with her, since Nick was picking her up from the fairgrounds. Sheesh. And wasn’t that a nice mess? Well, she thought as she turned to head back in, she’d better get a move on, if she wanted to get there before noon.
It wasn’t until she was halfway back to the house that the words fell, clear as raindrops, into her mind and she knew what it was that had disturbed her sleep. Scout was back.
Anger sizzled in her consciousness. Her pleasant mood was broken.
Scout. Shit. Something would have to be done about that.
* * *
When Scout opened the door of her car she was immediately engulfed by the pungent odors of wood smoke and roasting meat, of sweetgrass and evergreens and incense. Gentle strains of music wafted along on the breeze – flute and fiddle, harp and drum. She felt her heart quicken. Down in the valley, Oberon’s Midsummer Festival was well underway.
Scout followed the music and the scents through the sun-dappled woods, eagerly winding her way around the hastily set up campsites that would later house the all-night revelers. Passing stands of madrone and manzanita, with their peeling red bark and gray-green leaves, slipping through groves of scrub oak and cedar and fragrant bay laurels.
Like most of the solar festivals, Midsummer was a two-day celebration. A balefire would be lit as darkness approached and people would dance and party in its glow throughout this, the year’s shortest night. Scout smiled as she remembered a time when her greatest ambition had been to stay and party the night away with them. Well, maybe that’s what she’d do tonight. Since she had to be in Oberon anyway, she could think of worse ways to spend her time than in fulfilling a few of her teenage fantasies. Besides, she had to have some stories to take back to Larry.
She glanced down at the dog. The poor thing was already panting. “Not too much farther now, girl. Then we’ll see about getting you some water, hmm? Would you like that?”
The dog rewarded her with another hopeful wag of her tail.
“You’re such a good dog,” she murmured, surprising both of them.
They passed out of the trees and found themselves at the crest of a hill looking over a large flat bowl of a valley. The grassy plain below them was dotted with brightly colored booths arranged in a loose circle around the bare patch of ground where, just after sunset, the balefire would be set ablaze. Off to one side, several carnival-style rides and amusements had been set up. And tucked discreetly away in what the organizers hoped would be a more or less downwind direction, an army of port-a-potties stood at attention.
A shrill cry above her head interrupted Scout’s thoughts. Looking up she caught a glimpse of a red tailed hawk, sailing the wind currents to its home on Mount Totawka. She smiled at the pleasant tug of nostalgia it evoked, and started along the path that would lead her down to the festival; the dog, as ever, following close on her heels.
The fairgrounds were awash with colorful signs and banners. Scout let the seductive pull of the music draw her through the crowd. She was at the foot of the stage before she recognized the insidious longing that had brought her there. The dream of being close to home, at long last, was flooding through her again. She steeled herself against it.
She was here to observe, she reminded herself sternly. To keep an eye on her dear, old friends, whose motives she had every reason to mistrust. To learn anything they might know that would help her in her quest.
But that was all she was here for. And although she might be willing to indulge herself with a few half-forgotten dreams during her stay, there was no way was she going to let any of them seduce her. Squaring her shoulders, she turned away from the music and headed off in search of answers.
She found Lucy selling seedlings at a booth whose banner read Cavanaugh Family Nursery.
We gotta find a way to get back at her. At both of them. Give it some thought...
The words from Lisa’s letter echoed in her mind. She wondered how much thought Lucy might have given over the years to the idea of getting back at her? She forced a politely neutral expression onto her face as she moved forward.
“Hey,” she said in greeting.
Lucy glanced up briefly from the sales slip she was writing out. “Hey, yourself.”
“Quite a place you got here.” Scout knew there was still a hint of challenge in her voice, but she couldn’t seem to shake it. “Is all this yours, too?”
“Yep. Well, kind of. My husband’s family. They’ve had the business for years. Out in Abraxas Canyon, you know?” Lucy replied as she finished up with her customer.
When the woman had at last moved out of earshot, she turned to scowl at Scout. “Are you here to make conversation, Scout? Or are you actually planning on buying something?”
Scout smiled. “I’m thinking about it. I mean, now that I’m back in Oberon, I figure I should probably work up an interest in gardening, don’t you think? Make Caroline proud? You know how she always loved her garden.”
“Back?” Lucy bit her lip and frowned harder. “Shit. Scout, you’re not really gonna stay here, are you?”
“Well, I suppose if I do find Lisa, she might try to fight me for the house. But if I don’t, then, sure. Why not? Seeing as I’ll be stuck with it, anyway. So...”
“So, sell it.”
“Gee, Luce. That’s not terribly neighborly.”
“No offense, Scout. But somehow the idea of you and me being neighbors again does not exactly thrill me. Besides, you’ve never even wanted to visit before now.”
Scout smiled grimly. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d say it was more a matter of other people not wanting me to. But you know.” She shrugged, took a look around, and allowed her smile to broaden. “Now that I’m here – the place kinda grows on you, don’t you think?”
But Lucy didn’t get a chance to tell her what she thought, because at that moment another customer interrupted with a question and she turned away again. Scout watched her with narrow eyes and cold amusement in her heart.
“Can we pet your dog?” a soft voice behind her asked. Scout turned around to find two girls, about ten or eleven year-olds staring at her with large, ho
peful eyes.
She smiled at them. “Go ahead. She’s a very nice dog, I’m sure she won’t mind.”
The smaller of the two girls, the one with the light brown curls, bent over the dog, crooning softly. The other girl eyed her curiously. “Are you a friend of my mom’s?” she asked after a moment, gesturing at Lucy, whose back was turned to them.
“You’re Lucy’s daughter?” Scout’s eyes widened in surprise. She looked more closely at the girl. She should have recognized that shrewd, serious expression right away. “Your mom and I went to high school together. But we haven’t seen each other in a really long time.”
The girl nodded. “I thought maybe you knew her, from the way you two were talking.”
“And is this your sister?” Scout nodded at the other girl.
“Oh, no. She’s my cousin. My second cousin, actually. You know, because her dad and my mom are cousins, too.”
Her cousin? “You’re Nick’s little girl?”
The girl looked up, her expression curious. “Do you know my dad?” She had beautiful eyes. A warm, luminous, light brown shade that Scout remembered all too well.
Despite the sudden aching in her chest, Scout couldn’t help but smile. “I used to. But that was a long time ago, too. I think you have his eyes.”
Nick’s daughter smiled back at her. “I’m Kate. What’s your name?”
“It’s Scout.”
Both girls giggled. “Scout? Like in Girl Scout?” Lucy’s daughter asked.
“Yeah, that’s right. Only without the girl.”
“I think that’s cool,” Kate told her. “Is that what your parents named you?”
“No. I picked it out myself, when I was about your age.”
“Really? Wow.” Both girls were obviously impressed.
“Girls.” Lucy was back, frowning even more fiercely. “I need you to run an errand for me. Right now. Go and find Marsha and ask if she needs any more, uh, mint. Or chamomile. Okay? Go on!”
“But Mom—”