Dark Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  He danced up the three wooden steps. Snow had piled up on the porch. It was snowing so hard, it might actually be up to the top stair by morning, but right now the white stuff looked like a festive garland around the house.

  Duncan threw himself at the door and burst through like a favorite uncle arriving just in time to open the Christmas gifts. He whipped the scarf from his face. He pulled the gloves from his hands. He unbuttoned his jacket and threw it off his body as he called.

  "Everyone. Come everyone! Come down. Come out! Come here!" He looked down the hall to the dining room, he looked in the living room, and then he looked up the stairs. "God will forgive if you're in Hours. Come now. Off your knees!"

  The flock appeared as they had when Robert called them from the river: one by one, in their own time. Unlike that day, they were not curious about why they were being called. They were fearful. The order was disturbed. Duncan had not been Duncan at all when he left them behind to fend for themselves. Melody was stricken that he had not embraced her.

  Terrified that Duncan would take Pea to task after Melody's revelation, Teresa had rushed after him and thrown her wretched body across the stairs to stop him from trying to see Pea. She collapsed on the bottom step, relieved when Duncan dressed himself and went out into the snowy night.

  Foster stumbled into the living room to have a conversation with himself about what he would do now. It was all mumble and stutter and no one bothered to try to understand him. He took his conversation to a closet and closed himself in.

  Glenn poked at the fire and rearranged the wood in the downstairs room, unnerved by the sudden pall. When he was done, he went off to tend the fires in the other rooms and had not returned.

  Hannah and Billy had gone up to her room, determined to wait out whatever was going on. It was, after all, none of their concern.

  Now Duncan was raising his voice and it carried throughout the house. Slowly they congregated in the front room: Teresa and Melody came from the kitchen, Robert from the corner of the dining room where he tried to hide by turning his chair to face the wall, Foster from the closet, and all the rest. They glanced at Duncan like good dogs waiting for the whip. Duncan didn't notice them cringe or that they gave him wide berth.

  "Wonderful. There you all are. Where is Glenn? Oh, and little Peter is asleep, of course, but where is Glenn?"

  "He took wood upstairs," Teresa said, eyeing him closely.

  She had seen him like this before. In the hospital when he had awakened from the deep sleep the doctors had induced. Pea woke as she always did, silent save for her verses.

  Within the young Duncan had called it.

  Autism, the doctors called it. Biblical savant. That's what Pea was. Prophetess, Duncan insisted and that's what these people believed.

  Now here they were and history was repeating itself. Duncan was waking when she hadn't even known that he was asleep. He stood before them gripped by a new and frantic fervor, waiting to share some Godly revelation. Teresa felt a shiver run through her. If this was the healing and Duncan failed, she couldn't bear it. Not just for herself and the others, but for him and Pea. They had all believed so long that she wished they could simply go on doing it.

  "Teresa. You sit there. There in the big chair," Duncan chirped "Oh, Melody. Blessed, Melody! Come here."

  He took the young woman's hands in both of his and kissed one and then the other. Melody made a nervous little sound; the kind a woman makes when she isn't sure if her man is going to beat her or love her.

  "Melody, you sit over there. On the couch. Yes, yes, near Teresa's chair." Duncan eased everyone into the room and then dashed into the foyer to call up the stairs once again. "Glenn and Hannah and Billy! Come . . . oh, there you are, Glenn. Where are the others?"

  "Aren't they behind me?"

  Duncan laughed. "Yes, actually. They are."

  Glenn passed and Duncan waited as Hannah and Billy came slowly down the stairs. This time Hannah walked on her own, her casted leg goose-stepping, making her progress slowly. Billy was squeezed beside her, his arm around her waist.

  "Let me help." Duncan started up the stairs, but Billy pulled Hannah back and held her tight.

  "I got her, dude."

  "Of course you do," Duncan answered, but the brightness in his voice dulled.

  He hurried away having grown tired of waiting for them. Hannah and Billy could hear him in the living room settling people, asking after their welfare, throwing a compliment here, there, but oh-so-eager to get on with whatever it was he wanted to get on with. When Hannah and Billy arrived, all eyes went to them. No one smiled except for Duncan.

  "Hannah. Please. Sit there on the other side of Teresa. Please. In the other comfortable chair."

  Out went Duncan's hands. Up went his palms. His long fingers were extended as he guided her to her seat. Billy stood beside her.

  "Billy, why don't you sit next to Foster there. Please," Duncan said.

  "I'm good here, man."

  "Of course. Sure. Whatever works." Duncan's smile faltered, but didn't disappear. When it came back it was better than before. "Great, now. Here we are. First, I apologize. I wasn't prepared for what happened tonight. Melody." He turned toward her and she almost jumped out of her skin. "Melody, God has blessed you through Pea. I confess to my sin of arrogance. God has spoken through her to me for so long that I never thought he might choose another soul. What happened tonight is proof that you are, indeed, worthy of healing."

  Melody gasped. Teresa started. Foster mumbled at Glenn who asked an unanswerable question in return. Robert waddled in just as Duncan made his proclamation. Duncan looked at the house-of-a-man.

  "Robert. Oh, Robert. How could we have begun without you?"

  "You're going to heal Melody?" Robert asked.

  "No, not tonight. But soon."

  Billy looked at Melody. The guy might as well have shot her. Stupid idiot, making her believe like that.

  "But she is worthy. As you all are." Duncan slapped Robert on the back. "Go sit in your chair. No tears. This is a celebration. This is a sign. God has sent a message for me, specifically. That is why Pea spoke to our beloved Melody," he circled around to her again. "I could not hear the message myself for fear it would be dismissed. God and Pea are wise to have chosen Melody."

  Amens were murmured, some a bit more enthusiastic than others. The only one who didn't speak was Teresa. Something bad was coming, something cataclysmic, and she was powerless to stop it.

  Duncan opened his hands, and he raised them not to heaven but toward Hannah. Billy tensed, ready to step between them if necessary.

  "Numbers 12:1," he said. "Numbers 12:1, Hannah. Miriam and Aaron spoke against Moses because of the Cushite woman whom he had married, for he had married a Cushite woman."

  Ecstatic with the importance of his announcement, Duncan's lazy-lidded eyes were bright as stars as he moved closer to Hannah. When no one responded, he paused. He pivoted. He looked from one incredulous face to the other. Billy had enough. His voice sounded like thunder when he spoke.

  "What the heck does that mean, dude?"

  Slowly, Duncan turned on him. His eyes no longer sparkled and his lips no longer broke his face into two happy parts. Those lips were twisted in a disdainful grimace as he looked at Billy Zuni, the beautiful, disrespectful, ignorant boy.

  "Cushite, Billy," Duncan drawled. "Moses married a black woman. That is why God sent Robert to find you. That is why God saved Hannah. I am to take a black woman as my bride."

  CHAPTER 17

  Mama Cecilia could hunt and fish and she could travel long distances just with her feet. She could steer a canoe. Still, it had been many years since she had done any of those things, so she felt lost much of the time she was walking and looking for her son.

  Thinking very hard about what Oki said helped to pass the time and calm her as she searched. She thought that he had been very correct. The wind could only blow the way it would blow and the bear must seek out what it needs. Under
standing this, she decided she must take a journey and not just walk in the forest.

  She walked back the mile and some steps to the lodge where Priscilla Wolf Skin continued making reports for the chiefs. When Mama told her of her plan, Priscilla did not offer to go with Mama but she took twenty dollars from her purse and pressed it into Mama's chubby hand. She also gave her the box that was her very own lunch and wished her well. Mama Cecilia knew that Priscilla Wolf Skin shook her head a good long while after Mama left to begin her journey.

  Mama asked Thomas, the good and sober son of Sam Starlight, to take her to where the bus would pick her up on the long road to Eagle, but Thomas ran out of gas half way there. She walked the rest of the long way and waited. Just when Mama Cecilia thought the night would come but not the bus, it arrived. She sat in the very back. The seat was quite comfortable. The ride was very long, she ate the food Priscilla Wolf Skin had given her, and she slept some.

  When the bus arrived in Eagle, she found a boarding house. The owner was very kind but not kind enough to let Mama Cecilia sleep in one of the rooms for free. It cost more money than she expected. In the morning, the owner gave her food and sent her off with good wishes to find her granddaughter.

  Mama did not find her granddaughter and the person at the place where the letter came from asked her if she would like to leave money. She had no money to leave, but she did not say that. She only asked again if she could have the phone number or the address of the girl who had sent the letter. The man shook his head and said 'no, it is the law', and Mama Cecilia knew she had failed. She would go home alone and that made her sad. She had dreamed that the girl would take her arm and together they would save Mama's son, the girl's father. It was a fine dream while it lasted.

  Sometimes a bear found food and sometimes a bear stayed hungry.

  That was the way.

  Outside the shop where one left money for other people, Mama Cecilia realized she had made a mistake. She had not told Sam Starlight's son when she would return. She had spent too much money on the boarding. Now she didn't have quite enough for the bus ticket home. Mama stood with her back against the building, her small feet together, and her hands folded as she waited for her spirits to send her a sign about what she must do.

  So great was her faith in her good spirits that they answered her in very little time. They sent her an old man who spoke to her politely and offered her a ride in his boat as far as he was going. It was not far enough, but it was better than staying where she was. He would not leave for another day or two but she was welcome on his boat until the time he went upriver.

  Mama Cecilia accepted his offer saying she would cook for him and mend whatever he had which was torn and, therefore, pay for her passage. He did not object because it would be rude to do so. He also would like to have a meal cooked for him and his things mended.

  While they arrived at the boat, the man handed her up to the deck. When she stepped onto his boat, the old man admired her moccasins and that made Mama Cecilia smile just a little.

  ***

  Archer and Andre hadn't said much to one another in the time they had been together, but they accomplished a lot. They drove a couple hundred miles, stopping at every turnout where a trucker could get gassed up or find a bite of food. They flashed the dead trucker's ID and pictures of the crumpled truck. Archer took out his favorite photo of Hannah standing in front of one of her paintings, all dolled up in the way only Hannah could be. Those startling eyes of hers looked into the camera as if it were a person she wasn't sure she liked. All he got when people looked at the picture were head shakes. It wasn't until their fourth stop that they hit pay dirt.

  It was a filling station with a store, public johns, and an ancient phone booth squatting like an outhouse in the back. In the middle of nowhere, the place looked like a veritable Wal-Mart and like Wal-Mart they got just what they wanted at the right price: a fairly positive I.D. on the driver, solid one on Hannah, and confirmation the girl was with a boy with long hair. All that for the price of a cup of coffee.

  The guy behind the counter looked twice at Hannah's picture. The first time it was to admire her. The second time to confirm that it was the same girl just without the earrings and nose ring and long black hair. She had short hair now. He also remembered it was blond.

  "How can you be sure it's the same girl?" Archer asked.

  "You kidding? Check out the eyes. She looks like she's ready to deck me if I look at her cross eyed, not to mention she's black and she's got green eyes." The man made change for their coffee and pushed the cash drawer shut with his hip. "I see a lot of 'em coming through here. Runaways, hippies, kids thrown out for one reason or another. Most of 'em have some kind of attitude. Little thieves, really. This one had an attitude but it was an honest one."

  He rested against the counter while he reached for the cigarette he had going. The man took a long, deep drag of his cigarette and the smoke curled out with his words.

  "I'm not going to make you pull it out of me. She bought a jacket. Yellow. Fleece. Looks like that one over there on the sale rack," he motioned to a rounder. "Men's large, but the boy wasn't a large. I was surprised she bought it since she counted the pennies on food. Still, the kid needed it. That was nice of her."

  "Guess what the lab has?" Archer reminded Andre. "They've got some of that fabric." To the clerk he said: "Where did they go?"

  "How am I supposed to know? They were just gone with some trucker. Those guys all look alike to me. It could have been with the guy in the picture. If it was a court of law I couldn't swear, but I'd say it's a good bet he was the one they went off with."

  "Do you remember the rig?"

  "I only remember the spit and shine ones. Those are beauties." The guy was almost done with his cigarette, but he wasn't going to stub it until the last drag.

  "Thanks." Archer gave the cigarette a nod. "Watch your fingers."

  The guy grunted and picked up a magazine as Archer and Andre left. Coffee cups in hand, they paused to take in the scenery. The highway was one long black ribbon that went from somewhere to somewhere. There was no forest here, no mountains, just a flat expanse of nothing. A tanker pulled up and they watched a bleary eyed driver get out of the cab. He nodded to them as he passed and went inside. It was late. It was snowing. Archer tossed his empty cup in the can beside the door.

  "Damn cold here." He zipped his jacket up to the chin.

  "You should be here in January." Andre threw back what was left of his coffee. He didn't wait for Archer to ask the question. "None of this is evidence your kids were in the truck when it crashed, but I'll give you that they were probably in the truck."

  "Bet you're fun at parties." Archer's lips twitched. He stuck his hands deep into his pockets. "Look Guillard, I understand your reservations, but I think we're agreed that they were probably hitching with that trucker. Now the question is, what did he do with them? He could have abused them, killed them, whatever."

  "He hasn't got a record." Andre pointed out.

  "And I can give you a list of killers without records because they were driving rigs through remote areas or crossing state lines and there was no way to track them," Archer countered.

  "True, but I would just rather not think the worst," Andre said.

  "Me either," Archer agreed. "So we go down the list. He could have chucked 'em out for the fun of it before the crash. They could have been in the back of that thing when it went down. He might have picked up another passenger who let them out. So let's establish for certain that they were here. Then we'll figure out where they ended up."

  Archer stepped off the raised porch and headed to the phone booth. When Andre joined him, Archer pointed to the glass door.

  "Someone's been in here recently." He looked closer at the mess on the glass. "We've got prints. I don't know how good they are but we've got 'em."

  Andre looked, too. He could get a partial and he knew from Archer the girl had been booked once, indicted on a false murder charge. T
hat was bad, but then he figured all things happen for a reason. This, it seemed, was the reason.

  Archer put the inside of his wrist through the opening and pushed on the door. It only went so far. He pushed harder and got another inch that allowed him to squeeze in. He was out again a second later.

  "No number. Think you can track it down for me?" he asked.

  "Yep," Andre said.

  "Great. Hannah left a message at Josie's office. I'm betting we can trace that call back here."

  "Okay," Andre turned away and started back for the car.

  "You're going to dust it, right?" Archer called. Andre pivoted. Archer said. "For Josie. For me, too. To be sure."

  "I'm going to dust it," Andre answered. "For myself, and just in case we do have a third hitchhiker. I just have to get my kit."

  By the time they were done with the booth, it was late in the afternoon. The man behind the counter in the shop pointed them down the road and gave them the turnoff where they could find some home cooking. It was ten miles down and hard to miss. The place was small, but the sign screaming SLOW FOOD was big. They pulled into the dirt lot ready for some serious eating and maybe a beer, but before they could get out of the car the radio squawked. Andre picked it up.

  "Guillard here."

  Cressi's voice came back at him.

  "We've got an ID on the prints on that key you found."

  "Let's hear it."

  "Looks like partial on your driver. We've got an intact index finger on one side and a thumb on the other. They belong to Robert Butt. He was arrested in Colorado. Beat his mother to a pulp. She's brain dead," the woman said.

  "Where is he now?" Andre asked.

  "No info, Andre," Cressi came back. "He served three years in the Mental Health Institute at Pueblo and was released when he was twenty-one. Want me to ask the Colorado authorities to look into it a little more?"