Children of Eternity Omnibus

by P. T. Dilloway

  “I missed you too, sweetie.” She kissed Molly on the forehead, reminding herself this would be the last time she did so. She had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying.

  Molly squirmed out of Samantha’s arms to hug Wendell and then Prudence. “What happened to your arm?” she asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Prudence said.

  By now the other girls had gathered in the parlor, though Samantha didn’t see Becky among them. She picked Molly up again with an exaggerated grunt. “Where’s your mom?” she asked.

  Molly looked down at the floor, her face darkening. “Becky is sleeping,” she said.

  “We’ll have to wake her up then.”

  Molly shook her head. “You can’t. No one can. We tried everything. She won’t wake up.”

  “Where is she?” Molly pointed downstairs. Samantha set the girl down before pushing her way through the others to go downstairs. She hurried down the empty rows of beds until she found Annie curled up on her bed. Annie pointed to the opposite corner without Samantha having to say anything.

  If not for Annie’s guidance, Samantha might have walked by the pile of blankets in the corner. Only the slight rise and fall of the blankets every few seconds told her someone lay underneath the assorted covers. She laid a hand on the topmost blanket and said, “Becky? Becky, it’s me. It’s Samantha. Can you hear me? We’re back.” When nothing happened, Samantha started to pull off the covers. “Becky, please, wake up.”

  She heaped the blankets on the floor, at last revealing the body of a little girl who couldn’t be any older than Molly. Samantha rolled the girl over to see the makeup slathered on her face smeared by tears. “Becky? Is it you?” Samantha asked. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

  “She fell into the fountain,” David said from behind her. “That’s at least what Molly says.”

  “Is that true?” Samantha asked Molly. The girl nodded and then eased back a few steps until she was standing next to Annie. “How did it happen?”

  David recounted the story of Becky visiting the fountain cave to get some water for Molly. A wolf startled her in the cave and she fell into the water. Molly had come along and pulled Becky out, but not before she lost four years. “What about this makeup and the dress?” Samantha asked.

  “She and the girls were playing and I guess they got carried away,” David said.

  Samantha examined the faces about the room from David’s face to Molly’s petrified face to Helena’s nervous face. “Something happened here and I want to know what,” Samantha said. When no one said anything, she smacked her palm against the wall. “What happened?”

  “They tortured her,” a small voice said. Samantha looked over at Annie, who seemed more surprised than anyone that she’d spoken. “Helena and Phyllis and the others tied her up and did that to her and then put her in the pantry.”

  “Is this true?”

  “Yes,” Molly said.

  Samantha turned to David. “You knew about this?”

  “No, of course not,” he said. When she tried to look him in the eye, his darted away. Her fists clenched as she thought of hitting him in the face. Him first, then Helena, and then Phyllis for torturing Becky. She looked back at where Rebecca lay motionless, Prudence now at her side, trying in vain to revive her. Samantha reared back to deliver the punch to David’s face; he flinched in anticipation.

  Her hand dropped to her side. She couldn’t do it. She thought of her swollen eye from when Joseph had hit her and then saw Prudence’s arm in its sling. No more violence, she told herself. No more. “We’ll talk about this later,” she said.

  She picked Rebecca up and then motioned to Molly. “Come on, let’s get you home.” Before leaving, she stopped in front of David. “We need to get the supplies off the ship. Prudence and Wendell will show you where. Round up everyone and get started. Got it?”

  “I got it,” he said. She glared at him an instant, the urge to hit him rising again. No more, she told herself again. She carried Becky upstairs and out into the night.

  As she walked to the cottage, a new understanding replaced Samantha’s anger. She could control this rage. She could keep the beast at bay if she tried. She could choose the kind of person she wanted to be.

  She set Becky down on her bed in the cottage and then fetched a washcloth to wipe the makeup off the little girl’s face. Something about Becky looked different, but Samantha couldn’t tell what. She leaned down to kiss Rebecca on the forehead like Molly; Rebecca blinked and said, “It’s you.”

  “Yes, it’s me. It’s Samantha. I’m back now.”

  “Samantha,” Becky whispered. Then her eyes closed. Samantha continued to sit by her bedside through the night. She wouldn’t leave. She would stay to care for these little girls. That was her choice.

  Chapter 49: New Horizons

  Unloading the supplies from the Primrose took well into the night. After hauling the last crates down into the pantry cellar for storage, Prudence and Wendell shuffled off to her shop. She found everything exactly as she’d left it nearly a month ago, a thin layer of dust having gathered over her loom and spinning wheel. She sank down onto a pile of fabric, everything from her head to feet aching.

  Still she couldn’t sleep. Wendell plopped down onto the fabric next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It’s so awful,” she said. “How could they do that to poor Becky?”

  “I don’t know,” Wendell said. The sight of Rebecca had chilled Wendell to the marrow of his bones. Seeing her was akin to reliving his nightmare; he shivered again at the memory of looking into the mirror and seeing a little girl staring back. “They probably pushed her into the fountain.”

  “No, Helena and Phyllis are mean-spirited, but they aren’t that irresponsible,” Prudence said.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  She pressed herself closer to Wendell, the warmth of his body comforting her. As she sat there, one thought continued to haunt her: it could have been her. If she had stayed instead of Rebecca, she might have fallen into the Fountain of Youth and become a target for Helena and Phyllis. She would be five years old right now instead of sitting here with Wendell’s arm around her. Shame nipped at her for the relief she felt at being spared.

  She started to cry. “I wish there was something we could do for her,” she said.

  “We can be there for her. Be her friends,” Wendell said. He kissed her on the cheek, sucking away the tears on that side. “That’s all we can do for her now.”

  His lips moved down to touch hers. As he kissed Prudence, Wendell thought of Rebecca and wondered whether love could survive in this place. In nine years he had seen so much pain and death here. Maybe he and Prudence should board the Primrose and head back to Seabrooke or find somewhere else where they could be safe. He knew better than to suggest this, knew already what Prudence would say. Eternity was her home. She couldn’t leave Samantha and Molly and Becky and all the others.

  She took Wendell’s hand and lay down with him on the piles of fabric. A smile crept across her face. She had someone to share all parts of her life with now, not a friend like Samantha, but something more. A soul mate, she thought. She held his hand while they slept, vowing never to let him go.

  ***

  Molly couldn’t sleep in her own bed. The mattress was much more comfortable than the floor of the pantry cellar or the straw pallet in the girl’s dormitory, but try as she might, she couldn’t fall asleep. Whenever she closed her eyes, she saw Becky falling into the Fountain of Youth, one hand clawing at Molly, who only stood there and watched. Molly dressed in her nightgown, surrounded herself with her dollies, and pulled the covers over her head, but still couldn’t fall asleep. Why hadn’t she saved Becky?

  She finally kicked off the covers and rolled out of bed. She crept into Becky’s bedroom, clutching brave Sir Francis to her chest. Aunt Samantha dozed on a chair; she stirred a moment when Molly came in, mumbled something unintelligible, and then fell asleep again. Molly slipped
past her and burrowed under the covers of Becky’s bed.

  Molly snuggled up against the chubby little body inhabiting the bed, so much like Mama Becky’s. Becky, utilizing some kind of motherly sonar, had always put an arm around Molly and pulled her close without opening her eyes. “You’re safe now, sweetie,” she would say.

  This body she snuggled against now rolled away from her, turning its back on her. This isn’t Mama Becky, she thought. This is Veronica, her friend. Her friend who had pushed Becky into the fountain. She didn’t mean to, Molly thought. She was in shock after what had happened to her, going from an old lady to a baby in minutes. It wasn’t her fault. It was my fault. I should have saved her.

  She pressed herself closer to Veronica, hoping the familiar feel of her body would have the same effect as Becky’s during all those stormy nights. This time Veronica rolled over to face Molly, her eyes opening in surprise. “Molly? Why aren’t you in your own bed?” she asked.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I’ll go back now.”

  Veronica reached out to stroke Molly’s hair. “No, it’s all right. You can stay. I don’t mind.” She twirled one of Molly’s curls around her finger and then smiled. “I know things are different now, but I promise I’ll take care of you. Nothing bad is ever going to happen to us again.”

  ***

  Samantha woke up the next day as a mother to two little girls. She warmed a kettle of water to take down to the stream and give each girl a bath. As Becky and Molly splashed in the water, Samantha noticed how Becky’s skin looked tanner than before. When wet tresses of nearly-black hair fell over Becky’s face, Samantha shivered with déjà vu. She shook it away as the girls bolted from the water to towel off.

  She spent the rest of the morning combing tangles from their hair, a process that brought both girls to tears. She sensed Becky cried less from pain than the humiliation of having someone else combing her hair. Unskilled at all aspects of hairdressing, Samantha could only give them lopsided pigtails that caused them to giggle at each other. This was one of many skills Samantha knew she would have to master now that she had taken custody of the girls.

  Once she helped them dress, she stood back to look at her adorable little girls. Becky pudgy and dark in a gray frock; Molly scrawny and bright in an emerald dress. No one would ever mistake them for twins or even sisters, though Samantha supposed they were now by the loose standards of Eternity that allowed her to serve as their mother. She didn’t suppose there could be a family more dissimilar from each other anywhere else.

  “What do we do now, Mama Samantha?” Molly asked.

  “You girls can go play for a few minutes while I put breakfast on,” Samantha said. Molly and Becky skipped off, their laughter echoing until Samantha closed the cottage door.

  Cooking was another skill she would need to acquire. Her first attempt at breakfast—oatmeal from the supplies purchased in Seabrooke—turned into a thick, tasteless paste. If they had any livestock left she doubted even they would eat the stuff. She set it aside and decided on plates of apples and bread.

  While she waited for the girls, Samantha sat by the hearth and stared into the fire. Yesterday she had been kissing Joseph and planning to live in solitude and today she was caring for two little girls and worrying about her domestic skills. More than anything, she wished she could have Joseph at her side right now so she could reach over to caress his hand and then pull him tight into a kiss—

  The front door banged open and in came Becky and Molly, their clothes already stained with dirt. “We saw a bunny outside,” Molly said.

  “You did? That’s wonderful,” Samantha said. Molly described the encounter with the rabbit throughout breakfast while Becky gnawed on her bread and apples in silence. Samantha kept feeling Becky’s eyes on her, but when she looked in that direction, Becky always turned her head away.

  After breakfast, Samantha spent a disastrous afternoon with the girls in the bakery trying to make bread. Their first loaves of bread never rose. The second batch overflowed the pans. The third batch came out black on the bottom, but otherwise all right. They scraped off the charred parts as best they could and served the overcooked bread for dinner.

  By the end of the day, Samantha felt as weary as if she’d been rowing the Primrose by herself all day. Molly and Becky agreed to share Molly’s bedroom, squeezing into one bed until they could get another one. “Tell us a story,” Molly said.

  Samantha’s tired brain struggled to think of a story. “Once upon a time there were two princesses. One named Molly and the other named Rebecca. The princesses were the most beautiful girls in the whole kingdom. Everyone loved them, except for a jealous old hag named—”

  “Helena!” the girls said in unison.

  “That’s not very nice, but all right. Wicked Helena put a spell on the princesses to put them fast asleep until they were kissed by a true love. They slept for years and years until one day two handsome knights came along.”

  “Knights like Sir Francis?” Molly asked.

  “That’s right. Sir Francis and his brother Sir Joseph. They entered the castle and defeated the monsters wicked Helena had left there. They climbed up to the tower where the princesses slept and kissed them. The princesses woke up and lived happily ever after with Sir Francis and Sir Joseph. The end. Goodnight, girls.” Samantha kissed each girl on the forehead and then went to Becky’s bedroom, hers now.

  She sank down onto the chair where she’d slept the night before. She wished Sir Joseph could ride up on his white horse like in the story so they could live happily ever after. I should have stayed with him, she thought.

  On the floor next to the chair, she saw Joseph’s parting gift to her. She picked up the cellular phone, flipping it open and finding the button to turn it on. She typed in Joseph’s phone number and waited. The telephone rang six times before it picked up and she heard Joseph’s sleepy voice say, “Hello?”

  “Hello, Joe, it’s me. Samantha.”

  “Samantha! I didn’t think—”

  “I wanted to let you know we made it back all right. And I wanted to say—” she stopped, unable to get the words out.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” he asked.

  “I’m here,” she said. She closed her eyes and said, “I wanted to say I miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” he said. “I’m sorry I acted like such a jerk before you left. I hope I didn’t make you feel too bad.”

  “No, of course not.” She tried to think of something else to say, but her mind had turned barren. “I wish you were here.”

  “You know, it’s only two months until school lets out for summer. I could visit you up there—”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said and then seized upon an idea. “But maybe I could go down there. I could bring my little cousins Molly and Becky along. They’re both adorable. I’m sure Prudence and Wendell would come too.”

  “The more the merrier,” he said. “Maybe you could bring the whole town along. Dad would love it.”

  They both laughed uneasily. They chatted then for the next three hours about mundane topics such as the weather and Joseph’s classes at school. Despite the weariness in her body, Samantha didn’t want to hang up the phone. She was afraid if she did, she might never talk to Joseph again. He finally ended the conversation by saying, “I’ve got to get up early tomorrow for school. I’ll let Dad know you guys might be coming back. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled. Talk to you later.”

  “Talk to you later,” she said. The connection ended, but Samantha sat there for a minute with the phone stuck to her ear. Two months. Two months until she saw Joseph again. She didn’t know if she could make it that long without him. As she finally turned off the phone, she wished she had told him that. Tomorrow she would tell him how much he meant to her. She collapsed onto Becky’s bed, exhausted but unable to sleep. Never would two months seem so long.

  ***

  Veronica waited until Molly had fallen asleep and Samantha sto
pped yakking on the telephone before she crawled out of bed. She padded towards the front door, careful not to make a sound that could wake anyone up. Moonlight reflected off a knife on the kitchen table. She had only to pick up the knife, waddle into the bedroom, and complete her life’s work. Now where’s the fun in that? she thought.

  Nine years of rotting in jail had finally been rewarded. Suffering the indignity of becoming a fat little kid was no small price, but one she would gladly pay to finish the job. How long had it been? Thirty-two years since the night of the betrayal. She had come close to rectifying the situation once before only to be denied.

  Now here she was on this godforsaken island only to chance upon her adversary. Amazing. Even more amazing that the girl didn’t seem to remember anything at all. Veronica had hoped for some sign of recognition before she slit her throat. The backstabbing wench. Veronica picked the knife off the table, the blade seeming impossibly bulky and heavy in her tiny hands.

  She caught her reflection in the blade. Those darling apple cheeks. That elfin nose. The sweet little mouth. The adorable pigtails. She wanted to run the knife through her chest. Bad enough to be little, but to be little and cute was enough to make her sick.

  She put the knife down and tiptoed to the door. She eased the door open, expecting to get caught at any moment, and then ventured out into the night. She ran along as fast as her stubby hooves could carry her, forcing down the childish terror of the dark in her overstuffed gut. She had slept in garbage-strewn alleys with rats and in unfinished graves with the worms; this couldn’t be any scarier.

  The door to the boy’s dormitory was locked, but she made short work of that. She hoped they hadn’t thought to put trip wires in the dormitories like that cave. I should have brought Molly along, she thought. No, this was definitely not the kind of mission for sweet, innocent Molly.

  She climbed down the stairs from the parlor into the sleeping area. Among the rows of snoring boys she found her prey fast asleep, completely unsuspecting. She could kill him right now too without any trouble. Or she could have as an adult; she couldn’t be sure her flabby five-year-old body possessed the necessary strength. For the moment she needed him alive at any rate.