The Pines
Page 34
“No time?” She heard her own voice rising. “No time?” The faces blurred. She pressed her fists roughly against her eyes. Burning. Melting. Release. She saw her hand strike at Manny’s jaw. Stinking liquid sloshed across his chest as she knocked the jar away. She heard herself yell above the shouting all around her, saw herself punch the stupid, sullen face again and again. She caught him off guard, knocked him against the wall. She sobbed as she struck him.
And suddenly Doris was there, leaning unsteadily on one crutch, pulling her away.
Around them, people cursed, but Doris pushed through them. “Excuse us. Out of the way, please. Nothing to see.” To Athena, all the faces seemed uniformly hostile. “Honey, what the hell are you trying to do? What was that all about? I said, out of the way. Show’s over.”
They glimpsed white jackets with Red Cross insignias, and Doris waved a greeting to someone.
“Come on, honey, let’s go outside for a while, get some air.”
The wind hit them, rolling over them in invisible waves, buffeting them and blowing sand around their legs, sand pure as snow. The air felt cool in lungs that still ached with the memory of smoke. They walked in silence for a time, around the building, then across the shaggy road and into the trees.
“The heat’s broken,” Athena murmured, looking up at the sky. “Like a fever. I didn’t think there’d ever be a morning like this again. And look at me. I’m crying. I’m really crying.” The cooling tears still glistened like snail tracks on her cheeks.
“You feeling better now, honey?” Her leg in a partial cast, Doris hobbled beside her.
No sound hazed the crispness of the air; empty cicada husks clung hollowly to the nearby trees. “The summer’s finally burned itself out,” said Athena.
Doris stared. Her friend’s face seemed almost colorless from strain, and she detected a weary sway to her movements. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“My leg hurts. My leg often hurts.” She moved on. The pines held no menace for her now. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m all right. I’ll be out of this thing in a couple of weeks.” They came to a slight rise in the ground. “I stopped off at the hospital to see Steve. He’s stable now. They say he’s doing real good.”
She gazed off through the trees. “Thank God,” she barely whispered. “When Matty wakes up, will you take us to see him?”
“They asked me a lot of questions. ’Thena? What did you tell them at the hospital?”
“The truth. That he was maimed by the Jersey Devil.”
“And you…you killed it?”
She didn’t answer, only watched the highway down below them. “Sometimes, when I see that road, I just want to go down there and get in the first car that stops and never look back.”
“ ’Thena?” They walked on.
“I’m not leaving, Doris. I thought you’d want to know. I’m staying in the barrens.”
“Honey, Steve was pretty sedated still when I saw him. Really out of it. He said things. About the boy.”
“It doesn’t have to be a curse. Do you understand? You should’ve seen Steve’s face. In the car, he came to for just a minute and saw Matty. He looked so terrified. But it could be a gift. I know it, feel it.” She stopped walking. “The Spencer boy was one. It seems to happen when they reach puberty. One or two in every generation, down through the centuries. What happens to them in the end? Are they always killed or driven crazy? Do you see what I mean? What if they can be helped? Will the wildness pass in time? As they grow older? And then what?”
“I don’t understand.”
She made a noise like a laugh. “The funny thing is, it was all true, all those books we read, each with a little piece of the truth. Maybe that’s all we ever get.” She peered into the blue silence of the sky. “It doesn’t have to be a curse, Doris. I…I sense it. They have, I don’t know, abilities. They can move things with their minds. It happened in my kitchen, and I used to hear stories about Spencer’s. They don’t control it. It just seems to happen around them. That’s one of the stages. And they can hear each other’s thoughts. I felt that, heard it pass between them. And in the shack, I felt Matty try to warn me. He must have known all about Marl. Since he was a baby. Felt him as another part of himself. An imaginary playmate.” She faltered, her voice low. “If the madness can be released somehow, controlled…”
The other woman just shook her head.
“You were right, Doris. Your theory. That night at my house. They brought it with them, the colonists. It was lurking deep within, waiting for the right combinations. They need someplace like this to survive, someplace isolated and wild. But it doesn’t have to be….” She took a deep breath. “I really feel that. We don’t know anything about it yet. Only…only what I’ve pieced together. As children they have some kind of communications handicap. They seem backwards. But they’re not. Not at all. Then the wildness comes. But what if one of them could pass beyond it? What’s the final phase? Oh Doris, that poor damn boy.” She took her by the arm. “Marl was his name. The hell he must’ve gone through. I think he tried to hold it back, to resist the change coming over him. Maybe that’s the key. Maybe they all try to fight it. Maybe that’s what twists them, warps them.”
“I’m sorry, ’Thena. I just don’t…”
“I made my son a promise. I’m not going to let it happen to him. I’m not. I don’t care what it takes.”
“I don’t understand.” Doris watched her face. “Are you and Steve…?”
“There were probably other signs. I just didn’t know what to look for. How could I? And what if Matty’s not alone? What if he’s not the only one out there?” She looked away. “Pamela’s dead. Did you know?”
Doris nodded.
“And when he wakes up, I have to tell him…and tell him about the house…and the dog.” Athena fell silent. The breeze caressed her face.
“What will you do now?” Doris went on. “Where will you go?”
“There was a reason I stayed all those years. I just didn’t know what it was. He needs this place, needs to be protected, hidden…channeled.”
“And Steve? What about Steve?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe the kid could use a father.”
“I love Steve. I don’t know. I can’t think yet.”
“Christ.” Doris turned away. “You know, you and the kid, you’re welcome to stay with me.”
“Matty’s awake. I have to go to him.”
“What? How do you know that? Honey, wait up. I’m not too good on these things yet.” She hobbled through the trees. “ ’Thena?”
“…all right now, baby, I’m here…” Soft words drifted back, mingled with the whisper of the moving grains of sand.
“ ’Thena, who you talking to?” She toiled to catch up. “I don’t understand. Wait for me. ’Thena?”
But the other woman had already disappeared through the pines.
The beast moved stiffly, wobbling over the trail as though drugged. Fur had been scorched away to bright pink flesh in places, and the ban dages had blackened. One scarlet ear still oozed.
Head raised, the animal tested the breeze. It was there: the troubled and troubling scent of humanity.
And, yes, the boy.
Head lowered, paws scuffing at the sand, the dog shuffled along the trail toward the school building.
And the pines hissed faintly in the wind.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author wishes to express gratitude to madge Spreng, captain of the Lindenwold Ambulance Corps, for her moral support and detailed advice. Heartfelt thanks also go to the historians and folklorists who have explored the Pine Barrens in their work, particularly for the invaluable information found in Henry Charlton Beck’s “Forgotten Towns of Southern New Jersey” series, in John McPhee’s The Pine Barrens, and in The Jersey Devil, by John McCloy and Ray Miller, Jr.
This is entirely a work of fiction, although based in part on the authentic folklore of southe
rn New Jersey. The characters are completely fictitious, and most of the towns mentioned, if not wholly invented, have long since ceased to exist.
FB2 document info
Document ID: 014ac881-0ded-4287-9958-423a3d8aa649
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 24.5.2012
Created using: calibre 0.8.51, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Robert Dunbar
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