Ashlyn stared at him. God, even newcomers to the village knew about it? “You’ve heard about the radio?”
“Not heard, read. My dad’s research, remember?”
Crap. She should have figured mention of the radio would be in there, since he’d collected lots of stories of the ghost train. Did Professor Williams give any more credence to the radio than he did to the tales of the soul-stealing train? Maybe that was why Caden’s parents didn’t want her coming around. Or Caden coming around her. Not only was she a Crazy Caverhill, but she had access to that radio, by virtue of which she had access to things no one should know.
“You can wipe that look off your face, Ashlyn. My father doesn’t believe a word of it. He dismisses it as local superstition, like the train legend.”
Ah, yes, about that…. “I meant to ask, what did you tell your family after our encounter with the Conductor?”
“Same thing you told Maudette,” he said.
Well, that was curious. Why wouldn’t he tell his father? The troop trains were his specific area of research.
“Hey, I wasn’t supposed to be out that night either,” he said.
She blinked. “Did I ask that out loud?”
He snorted. “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
Whoops. Note to face: Stop telegraphing everything you’re thinking.
“But it’s more than that. You know how Grampy is convinced his brother James left his soul on that train?” At her murmured confirmation, he continued. “It struck me when I went home that if I corroborated those tales of the ghost train, if I confirmed that people’s … shades or souls or whatever … are trapped on board….” He shrugged. “It might be more than Grampy could take. And Dad certainly wouldn’t thank me if I upset Gramps, not to mention overturning Dad’s view of the world.”
“Oh, Caden, that’s so—”
“Pragmatic? Self-serving?”
“Amazing,” she supplied. “Heroic.”
“Heroic?” He laughed. “Yeah, very heroic of me to conceal that I sneaked out after curfew.”
“Wouldn’t the burden of that knowledge — about the Conductor and the souls — rest easier on your shoulders if you could share it with you dad?”
“Probably,” he allowed.
“Just probably?”
He rolled his shoulders, as though to work out a kink. “Okay, yeah, it would.”
“But you’re keeping it to yourself because you don’t want to cause them pain.”
“Your point?”
She just smiled smugly.
“Okay, tell me about Lolly-Pup. What was the radio right about?”
Ashlyn’s smug smile disappeared. “It happened while you were gone. It said I’d left the kennel unlatched and Lolly-Pup got out. It said she wandered into the woods behind Maudette’s and got caught in one of Neil Pole’s traps and died before anyone found her. Of course, I raced outside and the kennel wasn’t properly latched. She had escaped. But thank God, she hadn’t made the woods yet. I was able to entice her back and lock her up.”
“Oh, man,” he breathed. “There are traps out there. I’ve been warned — repeatedly — to stay away from the Pole property when I’m out trekking around on my photo hunts.”
They were both silent for a moment. Caden was no doubt imagining sweet Lolly-Pup in a leg trap and/or Maudette’s heartbreak after she found out her dog died horrifically because of her granddaughter’s negligence. Ashlyn had already been there, done that. What she was thinking about now was the song….
She licked her dry lips. “There’s more,” she said.
His head whipped around. “What? Tell me.”
“We’d better pull over again. Rachel’s place is coming right up, and I’d rather have this conversation without her.”
He eased the SUV to the shoulder again and put it in park. “Okay, spill it.”
“You now that song, Coming ’Round the Mountain?”
“As in, She’ll be coming ’round the mountain when she comes?”
“That’s it,” she said. “Well, the radio’s been playing this song that sort of riffs off that. Same tune, same phrasing, different lyrics. And it’s sort of been evolving. It was—”
“Wait a minute — evolving? This wasn’t the first time you’ve heard the radio?”
She shook her head. “I’ve heard it a couple of times now. And maybe it’s not actually evolving. Maybe I’m just hearing different snatches of it. Maudette always insists we go out to the kennel where we can’t hear it.”
He nodded slowly. “I can see Maudette doing that. Wanting to cut the radio out. Not wanting to know things. It can’t have been easy.”
She blinked. He got it. Just like that, without her having to go into the big explanation. There was no immediate, “Clairvoyant radio? There must be a way to exploit this.” Just an intuitive understanding that for all the things you might want to know, there were far more things that you didn’t. “No, it wasn’t easy for her,” she said softly, thinking of the young Maudette dealing with a mother who was clearly off the rails.
“So, tell me about these song lyrics.”
She blinked away the image of Maudette-the-child. “They’re pretty hokey, I guess. And I am not going to sing them, so forget about that. It’s something like, The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes. When she comes! The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes. When she comes! She’ll get on board the train, her life won’t be the same. The conductor will be there to greet her when she comes. When she comes! And then it goes on to another verse, something like, No one will ever miss her when she goes. When she goes!, and so on.”
“Rachel,” he said. “It’s talking about Rachel.”
“Yeah, I think. And that’s the conclusion she jumped to, too.”
He stiffened. “She was there? She heard the radio play this?”
“She was there, and she did hear the words, but not exactly from the radio. No one can hear it but us lucky Caverhill women. But she begged me to tell her what it was saying, so I started repeating it for her. Then the announcer came on and said that about Lolly-Pup. I just blurted out what he said and ran for the kennels.”
“Oh, boy. So Rachel saw that prediction come true…. Well, partially come true. She had escaped the unlatched kennel.”
“Exactly. And now the thing with her father crashing the car and being arrested has come true. She can’t help but think this other prophecy will come true, too. That she’s fated to board that train.”
“But Lolly-Pup didn’t get caught in a trap.”
“Only by sheer luck, perhaps.”
They were quiet for a few moments. In the silence, Ashlyn could hear the ticking of the car’s motor as it cooled.
Caden shifted in his seat. “You know, it’s interesting that the radio is riffing off of that particular song. Did you know it has a railroad connection?”
“Really? I thought it was just a hokey folk song.”
“Oh, it’s more than that. And more than a railroad song. The song is itself based on another one, a very old Negro spiritual called, “When the Chariot Comes.” You know, O, who will drive the chariot when she comes? Same structure. And it changes up with every verse. King Jesus, he’ll be the driver when she comes and so forth. That became She’ll Be Coming ’Round the Mountain, which was later used by railroad gangs as they worked. You know, that whole call and response thing that goes so well with enforced labor.”
“I see what you mean. From slavery to chain gangs, the functional replacement for slavery.”
Silence again.
Ashlyn looked at her watch. “Oh, hey, we’d better get moving. Rachel will think we stood her up.”
He reached over and caught her hand. “Look, I know you’re worried about her. I am, too. We’ll take care of her, okay?”
“Okay.” She squeezed back and smiled. But they couldn’t always be there, could they?
He eased the car back onto the road, and wi
thin two minutes, they’d pulled into Rachel’s driveway. Only then did it occur to Ashlyn to wonder what tonight was going to be like for Rachel. Obviously, her dad’s DUI charge was already common knowledge. What were the chances the kids at school would forego the chance to rib Rachel about it? Somewhere between zero and, say … zilch.
Maybe this dance thing wasn’t such a good idea.
Scratch that. She knew it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe it was a disastrously bad idea. Maybe she should try to dissuade her friends from going. They could find something else to do. Then she saw Rachel come out of her house, and her doubts fell away. The girl was girded for battle.
Wearing a black dress made from some heavy, plush fabric — velvet, or velour, maybe? — she seemed to float down the driveway. The hem of the dress stopped somewhere mid-calf, and she’d strapped a black corset-type thing over it. The sleeves of the dress hung past her fingers, and when she lifted her hand to wave at them, Ashlyn saw the sleeve flare into a dramatic bell.
Caden jumped out of the car and opened a door for her — back seat, driver’s side so the two girls could see each other and converse. As Rachel climbed in, Ashlyn saw that she wore killer platform shoes and black and white patterned knee socks.
“Rachel, you look great! You could rock that outfit in my old neighborhood any day,” Ashlyn said. “And omigod, are those pentagrams on your socks?”
“Pentacles, actually.” Rachel grinned, extending a leg as she dealt with her seat buckle. “I’ve been saving them for something special.” She looked around the interior. “Dude, nice car!” she said as Caden backed out of the driveway. “Bet it cost more than my house.”
“Rachel!’ Ashlyn said, but Caden just chuckled as he put the SUV in gear and accelerated away.
“What? It’s true. And boy, am I glad we weren’t counting on the Crown Vic to get there. My dad used it to sheer off a telephone pole out on the 161. Had you heard that yet?”
“Yeah, we heard,” Ashlyn said, guilt rising up to her throat like bile. “I’m sorry, Rach. Maybe we should have tried to do something. I mean, the radio warned us.”
“And what would we have done? Asked him to pretty please not drink and drive? It never worked the first million times, but hey, this time might’ve been the charm.”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing. We couldn’t have stopped him. The impulse to self-destruction runs strong in the Riley genes, doncha know?”
Oh, Rachel. “Don’t say that,” Ashlyn begged.
Rachel waved a dismissive hand and laughed. “Hey, I’m just funning.”
“So, you and your mom are without a car?” Caden asked.
“Yeah,” Rachel admitted. “And that part’s a real drag. But fortunately this little cloud is not without its silver lining. The cops busted him for driving under the influence.”
“And that’s a good thing?” Ashlyn asked. “Doesn’t that carry a heavy fine and a suspension of driving privileges?”
“All of the above, but it also carries mandatory jail time.”
“Jail for DUI?” Caden asked, echoing Ashlyn’s surprise.
“Only for total losers — I mean, repeat offenders. And did I mention it’s mandatory? The judge doesn’t have a choice! Even if they drop the resisting arrest stuff — did I mention resisting arrest? — which they’ll probably do knowing this stupid sheriff’s office, he’ll still have to do jail time. Which means quiet times at Casa Riley, at least for a few weeks. Maybe a few months. I’m not sure what the drill is.”
“So, we’re celebrating tonight?” Ashlyn asked, smiling at her beaming friend.
“You bet your pinstriped punk ass we are!”
Ashlyn’s smile dimmed. “You know someone is likely to bring it up tonight, about your dad.”
Rachel shrugged. “I’d be disappointed if they didn’t. Can’t have them going soft on me now.”
Ashlyn laughed. “You are insane. You know that, don’t you?”
“Obviously.” Rachel leaned forward and gave Caden’s shoulder a poke. “So I take it Ashlyn told you about the doomsday radio?”
“Doomsday Radio?” His lips opened in a smile. “With apologies to the alt/rock band of the same name, yeah. I heard,” he said. “Well, okay, I didn’t hear it. I heard about it. I gather I don’t have the right genetic code to hear it. ”
“Believe it?” Rachel asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Interesting.”
He lifted his gaze to the mirror to find Rachel’s reflection. “How so?”
“Well, you had to actually see the train to believe it. But you can’t hear this radio, and yet you believe?”
“Hey, after seeing the train, how can I not believe the radio? Plus I’ve read my father’s research notes. There’s just too much anecdotal evidence to dismiss it.” He flicked a glance at Ashlyn. “Besides, Ashlyn can hear it. That’s good enough for me.”
“Awwwww, sweet,” Rachel said.
“Okay,” Ashlyn said, “now that we’ve firmly established me as the Crazy Caverhill radio hearer, can we drop this topic? I want to have fun tonight. F-U-N. Anyone familiar with that concept?”
“Vaguely.” Rachel leaned forward suddenly again. “Hey, are those garters on your dress?”
“Yeah.”
“And yet Maudette let you leave the house.”
“After she figured out they were only decorative. And after commenting that in her day, ladies wore those under their dresses.”
She leaned back into the soft leather seat again. “Ha! Wish I’d been there to hear that conversation.”
“You should talk, Rachel Riley. You’re wearing a corset on top of your dress. How did you get out the door tonight?”
“Without a lecture.” A pause. “Actually, without notice, I think.” Then she leaned forward yet again, this time putting a hand on Caden’s shoulder. “Hey, C, what article of underwear are you displaying tonight?”
His laugh rumbled through the car. “Sorry, girls. I’m going to have to get to know you a lot better before you see these sweet pink boxers.”
“Pink?” Rachel hooted with delight. “Omigod, I am so channeling Adrien Brody, in The Darjeeling Limited.”
They were still laughing as they rolled into the high school parking lot. Still talking and joking about attending a dance in broad daylight as they climbed the steps and entered the building. Still smiling as they followed the locker-lined corridors to the gymnasium, following the sound of laughter and loud dance music and high decibel conversation.
But as they entered the gym, the roar of conversation died down until just the DJ’s music could be heard. And as they moved into the room, the crowd fell back.
Oh, freakin’ wonderful.
“Whoa, Ashlyn!” Rachel said. “Dig the powers on you, girlfriend! Able to part crowds with the ease of Moses parting the Red Sea.” She glanced around. “Oh, no, wait a minute — what am I talking about? I’m the Moses in this particular scenario. Sorry. False alarm.”
Ashlyn’s heart pounded with anxiety, but she kept a wide smile pasted on her face. Glancing over her shoulder, she said breezily, “Isn’t that just like you, Rachel Riley. Hoovering up all the credit for yourself! I’d like to think the Crazy Caverhill rep carries a little weight in this town.”
“Maybe a little,” she allowed. “Okay, I’ll share.”
“Personally, I think it’s the total package,” Caden said. “The three of us making an entrance together, like we were trying to make a statement or something.”
“Hey, I always try to make a statement,” Rachel protested.
Ashlyn laughed. “Yeah, and it’s euphemistically translated as flock off.”
Gradually, people started milling around again, and the conversational roar resumed. Ashlyn had no doubt what the topic was, but she was just grateful not to be so obviously the center of everyone’s attention.
Ashlyn drew a breath and exhaled, willing her heartbeat to slow. The song, an amazingly current Ne-Yo number
, stopped and another started. A song, in fact, very much like what she might expect to hear at a school dance back home. Somehow, that surprised her. Not that she was expecting an old-fashioned country hoedown or anything. Okay, so maybe she had had a nightmare flash of the Rednex’ Cotton-Eyed Joe variety, but she hadn’t seriously expected it to be like that. But given how creepy the town was, she did half expect a weird Footloose vibe. But as the speakers pumped out a quieter Justin Timberlake, she started to relax.
“Hey,” Rachel yelled in her ear. “You two should dance. I’m gonna go scare the freshmen girlies standing around the punch bowl.”
Caden took her hand and tugged her toward him. “Come on. This is what we’re here for, right?”
Just like that, the hundred or so other kids on the floor were forgotten. “Right.”
She moved into his arms, and would have slid both arms around his neck, but he took her right hand in his left, and placed his right hand on her hip. Ah! His mama had taught him how to dance properly. How sweet. With a sigh, she placed her left hand on his shoulder. Then he proceeded to steer them around the dance floor. Thankfully, he telegraphed his intent very clearly, and she had no trouble following him. It was warm in the gym, and warmer still in his arms, but she didn’t mind.
Too soon, the last strains of the song faded away and they broke apart. Ashlyn glanced around, spotting Rachel near the punch table, which had been vacated.
“Caden, would you mind—”
“I’m on it,” he said, as the DJ segued into a Flo Rida dance number.
A moment later, he and Rachel were working it on the dance floor. She paused a moment to admire them both — okay, mainly Caden; the boy could flat out dance — then turned to get a glass of punch herself. Half way across the floor, the elder Caldwell boy stopped her.
“Thought you weren’t coming to the dance,” Brian said, the words wafting toward her on the unmistakable, catpissy odor of cheap gin. Lots of it.
She gave him a bright smile, trying not to wrinkle her nose. How had he escaped the detection of the chaperones, reeking like he did? That smell wasn’t just coming from his mouth; it was being exhausted by his lungs and pushed out his freaking pores. He was well and truly plastered! “I really wasn’t planning to come. It was a last minute thing.” She shrugged, keeping the smile firmly in place. “School dances really aren’t my thing.”
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