Samantha’s foot kicked something white. She bent down and retrieved a bone. The bone had been worn completely smooth except where something had bitten into it. She located more of these bones, as well as rusty chains. She also stepped in what smelled like feces.
Pryde’s house. This had to be it. She had never really considered where Mr. Pryde had lived; she had assumed he had slept outside like an animal. From what little she could see and from what she could smell, he hadn’t lived much better than an animal.
A stream of water hit her in the face. She could barely make out more streams of water coming through the roof. This wouldn’t be much of a shelter from the storm. Even as she thought this, the walls creaked. The entire house would probably collapse on her soon.
But what other choice did she have? She stumbled around the room, trying to find a dry corner where she might be safe. As she did, her foot kicked something else, something solid and metal that prompted her to cry out. She bent down and felt a thick metal ring. A trapdoor!
Samantha stepped back and then pulled on the ring. As expected, a door opened. She felt around with her sore foot until she found a stair. This must be a cellar. That should keep her safe from the storm, provided the house didn’t collapse on the cellar and trap her inside. Given the alternatives, she decided to take the chance.
Samantha started down into the cellar.
***
Prudence had to stop in order to wipe hair from her face. The rain had quickly transformed her tidy bun into a snake’s nest of wet tendrils that draped over her eyes. If she ever found the village again, she would have to get her hair cut short like Samantha’s.
Even without the hair in her face, she still couldn’t see anything. What little light had existed had been snuffed out by the storm. Prudence took a step forward with her arms in front of her and felt more dripping branches.
More than finding the village, Prudence wanted somewhere dry to rest, if only for a few minutes. Besides her hair, her dress had completely soaked through, so that it clung to her body like a second skin. Her shoes had filled with water and muck, her feet inside almost numb from cold. If only she could find a cave or outcropping of rock, she might be able to get some feeling back into her feet and get her bearings.
The latter would be easier said than done. Prudence had not explored the island like Samantha and the boys; she had never strayed far from the paths around the village. With as long as she’d run in the dark, she could be almost anywhere by now. Before much longer she might tumble off a cliff, into the ocean.
“Help me!” she shouted, as she had every few minutes. “Someone, please, help!”
When she didn’t hear any answer, she hugged herself and then trudged on. As she did, she chided herself for being so foolish as to leave the safety of the dormitory at night. By now if Samantha had any sense she would be back home while Prudence might wander around in this storm all night, until she caught her death of cold.
This was all Samantha’s fault. If she hadn’t left the dormitory tonight, Prudence would be in bed right now, asleep and dry. She saw herself in bed, beneath her blanket, and savored the image of warmth and dryness. If only she could go home.
She stopped again, this time not because of the rain or her wet hair. She heard a low growl from off to her left. At first Prudence thought it might be a noise from the storm, but then she saw a pair of yellow eyes. She had seen those eyes and heard that growl before—they belonged to one of Pryde’s dogs.
Samantha had killed some of Mr. Pryde’s dogs five years ago, but the rest had disappeared. Since no one had seen them, it was assumed they had died off. The boys did still talk about hearing the dogs, though Prudence had thought that just a story to scare the girls. Now she saw they hadn’t exaggerated.
The dog took a few steps closer, enough that she could see its black shape that if the animal stood would be almost as tall as her if it stood on its hind legs. The dog opened its mouth to reveal a set of sharp yellow fangs that would have no problem tearing Prudence to pieces. She put out a hand in supplication. “Please don’t hurt me,” she said. “I don’t have any food.”
The dog paid no attention to her. She knew that to it she was the food. Mr. Pryde had trained the beasts as guard dogs to keep the children from leaving the town; it hadn’t mattered to him whether the children survived or not.
Prudence took a few steps with her hand still raised. With her other hand she felt around for a stick or rock to use as a weapon. If only Samantha were here, she would know what to do. She would know how to fight the monsters. Yet it was Samantha’s fault Prudence was out here to start with.
As the dog finally lunged at her, Prudence grabbed the nearest stick she could find. It wasn’t very thick, less than an inch wide. She brought it around in a wild arc, hoping to hit the animal in the head. She managed only to hit its right flank and not hard enough to stop it as it leaped onto her.
Prudence screamed as the monster’s jaws snapped at her. It glared down at her with its terrible yellow eyes, as if it were deciding which part of her to devour first. She closed her eyes to wait for the end. She supposed the other children would all find some amusement in the fattest child on Eternity being eaten alive. They would probably laugh and say she had deserved it for her years of gluttony. Even Samantha would probably join in to mock her.
The weight on Prudence lifted. She opened her eyes to find the beast no longer staring down at her. She sat up and saw the dog standing a few feet away, its rump turned to her. Then she heard another growl that overlapped the first. A second set of yellow eyes appeared.
The two dogs began to growl in unison as they circled each other. After a moment Prudence realized they were fighting over her. She would be the prize for the winner. She had to get out of here before that happened.
While the dogs continued to growl and circle, Prudence slithered back a few inches. She made sure to go slow so as not to alert them to her plan. She receded a few more feet without them noticing her.
The dog that had initially attacked her struck first. It took a swipe at the other dog with its front left paw. The other dog snapped back with its claws. Before long they were both on the ground. They grappled with each other, tooth to claw.
Prudence saw this as her chance to make her escape. No longer concerned with the rain or her hair, she got to her feet and bolted from the scene. It didn’t take long before she heard a howl of anguish, followed closely by a crash through the brush.
Prudence forced herself to run faster, as fast as she’d ever run before. She flailed with her arms to swat any branches in front of her aside. That didn’t help, as the branches still caught her wet hair and dress. She plowed ahead, ignoring the pain in her scalp and along the midsection from where the branches caught her. She had to keep moving or that dog would catch her.
Still she heard it getting closer. She risked a look over her shoulder and saw the dog’s yellow eyes fixed on her. This time nothing would stop it from tearing her to pieces.
She turned around just in time to avoid slamming into a tree trunk as big around as herself. She stumbled as she tried to avoid the trunk. She managed to stagger a few feet before she pitched forward.
Prudence expected to land in a muddy heap or even a puddle. She didn’t expect the ground to give way entirely or to find herself plunging underground. She barely had time to scream before she hit something solid hard enough to knock the wind out of her. She flopped onto her side and then struggled to take in a few breaths.
As she did, she looked up at the sides of a deep hole. She felt around with her hands for a ladder or rope or something to haul herself up with. Her hand touched something smooth and cold—a rock? She grunted as she tore the object from the muck. Her grunt promptly turned to a scream as she saw a human skull in her hand. She tossed the skull away and then tore at the sides of the hole with her hands to free herself.
The sides of the hole were too steep and at the moment too slick for her to get any purchase. After
a few minutes of frantic scrabbling, she gave up. She was trapped. Though she couldn’t know for sure, she was fairly certain this was one of Pryde’s hunting traps. At some point one of the other children must have tried to escape and fallen in. She put a hand to her head and tried to remember, but she couldn’t. Reverend Crane had given them all something to erase their memories whenever he made them younger. The skull she’d found could have belonged to a child who had died centuries ago for all she knew.
From up above came a mournful howl. Prudence looked up to see a pair of yellow eyes glaring at her. The beast had found her, but it wasn’t stupid enough to join her in the hole. The dog snarled at her and snapped its jaws as if to remind her of what awaited her if she could find a way out of the hole. Then the dog loped off, probably to find somewhere dry to wait out the storm.
Prudence envied the dog for that. While the pit gave her some protection from the rain, rivulets of water still found their way in. She did what she could to avoid them, but she didn’t have much room to maneuver.
She finally curled up against one side of the pit and began to sob. She would die here, just like that other child long ago. She continued to sob until she fell asleep.
***
Today is her anniversary. As Prudence marks the tally on the cave wall, she knows without looking that the marks add up to six years. Six years since Reverend Crane locked her away in this underground chamber. Six years since she last saw the sun. Six years without speaking to another human being. Six years of living in almost-constant darkness, listening to the rumbling of her stomach, the rushing water of the river, and the screeching of the bats living in the caverns.
Mr. Pryde comes down the long passage to her cell twice a day. She huddles in a corner when she hears the door open and his boots echoing along the corridor. Sometimes he brings one or more of his dogs; other times he comes alone. He always carries a wooden bucket, the “slop bucket” as he calls it.
He feeds her like a pig, dumping the bucket into a pot on the floor. What the bucket contains varies from day to day. Most times there’s a bit of cold gruel, sometimes mixed with fatty pieces of meat or stale bread. She wants to refuse the horrible food, but the growling of her stomach always prods her to lift the pot to her lips. Pryde laughs and scratches her behind the ear like one of his beasts. “Good piggy,” he says.
As she listens to his footsteps retreat down the passageway and the door slam shut, tears come to her face at what she’s become. She is no better than an animal. The bats in the caverns have more dignity than her.
She throws herself onto the pallet to sleep. Only in her dreams can she escape this wretched place for even a few minutes. She often dreams of green fields beneath a blue sky. Wind ruffles her waist-length copper hair and brings the scent of wildflowers to her nose. She runs and runs through the field until she’s so tired, she collapses into the soft grass.
Then she wakes up in the cell on her rough pallet. She touches the greasy tangles of hair Pryde cut off with his knife at her shoulders. The only smells are those of rotting food. Yet her stomach still growls, demanding more. But there will be no more until Pryde returns later.
To pass the time, she makes her way by feel to the spinning wheel. Pryde brought the spinning wheel into the cell three years ago along with a bag of fabric scraps, needles, and thread. “The rev wants you to make yourself useful. Get to work stitching up these clothes. You might want to make something for yourself too, Piggy.”
She puts a hand to her stomach pressing against the sackcloth fabric of her dress. Beneath her pallet she keeps a lacy pink dress she’d worn in her first year of captivity until she outgrew it. Since then she’s worn a series of shapeless gowns that grew larger with each year. Sometimes she snuggled up with the pink dress to remind herself of the world outside the cell, where beauty still lived.
From the spinning wheel, Prudence takes the spindle in her hand to continue carving the message. The words first came to her two years ago in a dream. She couldn’t remember who had spoken the words, but she knew they were important. When she awoke from the dream, Prudence repeated the words over and over again until they became etched in her memory.
She wanted them to live on in more than her memory, though. She wanted them to last forever. So she took up the spindle and began carving. To carve the first letter took a week.
On her sixth anniversary of being stuck down here, she will at last finish the project. She runs her hand along the spot on the wall where she’s carved the other letters, feeling her way to where she needs to place the final one. Her hands shake as she chips away at the rock with the spindle; she takes the spindle in both hands to steady herself.
Hours later, the work is complete. She traces her hand along the words, reciting them to herself once more. “No matter how great the obstacle, with God on our side we will prevail,” she whispers. She only wishes she could believe these words.
With a more hurried, less steady hand, she carves her initials. She goes back over to her pallet. Beneath the pink dress lies her other treasure: a tattered piece of paper with the measurements for fifty boys and girls, on the back of which was part of a calendar for November 1649.
Six years from that date she’s been locked away in this cell. She carves the numbers ‘1655’ next to her initials to commemorate the project. The spindle falls from her hand as the stark realization of how much time has passed in here comes to her. She drops to her knees, pressing her forehead to the cold ground. Six years of her life gone! Stolen by Reverend Crane.
The sound of the door opening and footsteps in the passageway send her scurrying back to the corner to hide. But as the footsteps approach, she lifts her head to listen closer. These aren’t Pryde’s heavy footsteps, but softer, more timid ones. At last, someone’s come to rescue her!
Prudence rushes to the entrance of the cell. In the passageway is not Mr. Pryde, but a girl a year or two older than herself with long red hair like Prudence remembers from her dreams.
The girl’s pale, freckled face splits in a smile when she sees Prudence. “You’re looking none the worse for wear, dear,” the girl says. “I thought by now you’d be a bag of bones, but there you are so healthy and robust. You’re cheeks are so plump and rosy, I want to pinch them so badly. That would be terribly impolite of me, though.”
Prudence clears her throat. Her voice is hoarse and scratchy as she asks, “Who are you?”
“Oh dear, where are my manners? Yes, I don’t suppose you would remember me. Last time you saw me, I was little more than a baby. Here I am now almost a grown woman Reverend Crane says. I don’t really feel like a grown woman yet, but then again I’m not sure how a grown woman is supposed to feel.” The girl shakes her head. “At any rate, I am Molly Brigham.”
“What do you want?”
“Now dear, there’s no need to get angry. I know you’ve been in this place for an awfully long time, but that’s no excuse to act like a savage.” Miss Brigham stamped her foot with annoyance. “Reverend Crane sent me to retrieve you. He says he’s finally forgiven you and wants to welcome you back into the flock.”
“He forgives me? He put me down here! He locked me away in this terrible place for six years!” Prudence grabs Miss Brigham by the front of her white dress. “I don’t want to be part of his flock. I don’t ever want to see him again.”
“Prudence, dear, please don’t be angry with me. I know how awful this must have been for you. You must understand the reverend never meant to hurt you. He prayed for you every day. He loves you very much, but he had to keep you down here.”
“Why?” Prudence lets go of Miss Brigham.
“I’m afraid you’d have to ask him. He only said something terrible happened between you two and this was for your own good. Now he’s sent me here to bring you back home at last.”
Prudence doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t want to see Reverend Crane, but she doesn’t want to stay in this cell for another six years. “I’ll go with you,” she says.<
br />
“Excellent. You’ve made a very wise choice, dear.” Miss Brigham reaches into a pocket of her dress to produce a bag. “I’ve brought you a little treat. You must be terribly hungry for some decent food after so long.”
The bag contains three muffins, still warm and fresh. Prudence devours one in a single bite. The muffin tastes sweeter than anything she can remember. By the time she finishes the third one, she notices how loose her dress feels and how much taller Miss Brigham seems. She holds up a hand to her face, watching it shrink before her eyes.
“What happen?” she asks in a child’s whimper.
“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t want to trick you this way, but Reverend Crane thought it best. You don’t have to worry, I’m going to raise you like my own sweet little daughter. Before long, this will all seem like a bad dream.”
Prudence tries to run away, but she gets only a few steps before her legs turn wobbly and she collapses to the ground. When she tries to get up, she finds her legs have become too small and weak to support her. Her scream comes out as a gurgle, her tiny mouth unable to form words anymore.
Miss Brigham kneels down beside her, taking out a white gown from her dress. She pulls the gown over Prudence and then smiles down at her. “You’re such an adorable little baby.” She touches Prudence’s nose with one finger.
Prudence wants to escape, wants to fight back, but she can’t. She’s helpless, as she always has been.
Chapter 8: Secret Kiss
Samantha and Prudence still had not returned. There was no clock in the dormitory, but Rebecca knew at least an hour had gone by and still neither of the older girls had come back. Worse yet, rain pounded against the walls and roof while the wind howled through the shutters.
“I’m scared,” Annie whimpered. She snuggled tighter against Rebecca.
“It’s just a storm,” Rebecca said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
Despite this, Rebecca knew there was cause for concern. Samantha and Prudence were out in that storm. Rebecca tried to tell herself they could take care of themselves, especially Samantha, but this storm was unlike any she’d been through before.
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