The Stone Flowers

by Nora O'Keeffe

  “Do you have it?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes. I haven’t even looked at it since the nineties.” Mary reached under the desk and lifted the black plastic bag towards Maggie. “I don’t know how it will help, but I hope it does.”

  Maggie took the bag and thanked her. Before she left, she turned back.

  “How is he?” She didn’t use his name, afraid she’d break down.

  “Harness? He’s strong. He’ll hang on as long as he can.” Mary gave her an encouraging smile and stood up. “I’m going over to check on him, I’ll walk out with you.”

  The two women left the surgery. Maggie waited while Mary locked the door, then, just before they parted, Maggie pulled the woman into a hug. It was a quick one-armed embrace that took Mary by surprise. She responded by patting Maggie on the back.

  “Thank you for looking after him.” Maggie let the woman go and jogged back to the car before Mary could see her tears.

  She sat behind the wheel, grateful for a moment to be alone before Jackson returned. He’d been strong and steadfast up until now, but he’d just lost his grandmother. Maggie couldn’t afford to let her emotions rub off on him. She grabbed a tissue out of her bag and watched Mary as she began the short walked to Harness’s house.

  More than anything she wanted to be with Harness, holding his hand so he’d know he wasn’t alone. But she’d set a path for herself; if she stopped now, he’d die. Of that she was certain. For the first time since she’d made the decision to stop the Acheri or die trying, she let the truth creep into her mind. She wasn’t doing any of this for the children of Thorn Tree. Her reasons weren’t noble like Jackson’s, they were selfish. I want to save Harness, that’s all that really matters. And worse, she was willing to risk Jackson’s life and anyone else’s who could help. She looked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror and wondered if she was really any better than Agnes.

  The sound of the boot slamming brought her out of her reverie. Jackson came around the car and hopped in.

  “Okay. I got them. Did you see Mary?” He turned to look at Maggie and stopped. “What’s wrong? Did something happen with Mary?” he asked, taking in her tear-stained face.

  “No... She had it for me. Everything’s okay. It’s just Harness... You know Sergeant Gibson, he’s sick.”

  Jackson hesitated for a second. “Sorry. I didn’t know that you and he were...um... you know…” His voice was tight. He looked away, avoiding her gaze.

  Maggie wondered if he was angry because she hadn’t told him about Harness sooner. Maybe he realised she wasn’t a heroine trying to save the town, just a selfish woman hell-bent on saving the man she loved. They drove in a stilted silence for a few minutes. She thought of trying to explain, but what was there to say? They both had their reasons for risking their lives, what difference did it make?

  Jackson was the first to speak. “So, where are we going?”

  “If we’re going to do this, we’ll need help.”

  Ten minutes later Maggie pulled into Doug Loggie’s driveway and turned the car off. His Ute was parked under the carport. As they approached the front door, Maggie noticed the lasagne and note were gone, which she took as a good sign.

  “I don’t know about this.” Jackson stood back from the door and let Maggie knock. “Do you think he’ll believe us?”

  She’d been wondering the same thing. Doug was a good friend; she hoped telling him her crazy story didn’t ruin that. “We’ll soon see.”

  They heard sounds from inside the house, the echo of footsteps. When Doug finally opened the door, Maggie’s heart sank. He was dishevelled, unshaved and bleary-eyed. White hair standing up like fluffy horns as though he’d been sleeping, the odour of tobacco and whisky clung to him like a second skin.

  “Oh. Hello, Maggie, Jackson.” He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to make himself more presentable.

  “Hi, Doug. How are you doing?” Maggie realised it was a stupid question even as she asked it.

  “I’ve been better. Thanks for the food and the note. Sorry I didn’t answer the door, but I was sleeping.” He looked over her shoulder as if something in the distance caught his attention.

  Maggie nodded. “I understand.” The bags under his eyes told a different story; it didn’t look like he’d been doing much sleeping. Now that she was about to add to his misery, guilt wrapped up in sadness almost overwhelmed her. “Do you mind if we come in?”

  “Oh. Yes. Sure. Sorry, Maggie, I didn’t mean to keep you standing on the doorstep.” He stepped aside and let them into the house.

  The sitting room spoke of his late wife with floral furnishings and bright yellow throw cushions. With the curtains closed and an overflowing ashtray on the coffee table, the usually cheerful room looked like a cave of despair.

  Doug must have caught Maggie’s expression. Grabbing a half-empty whiskey bottle and the ashtray, he left the room. Maggie glanced at Jackson. His usually tanned skin looked ashen in the gloom. Both men were grieving. Jackson’s pain was fresher, but Doug’s would probably stay with him like a shadow. An unwelcome twin, shading every day of his life.

  When he returned, Doug opened the curtains, letting the early afternoon sunlight fill the room.

  “Please, sit down.” Doug gestured to the sofa, taking the armchair opposite them. He didn’t offer any apologies or explanations for the whiskey bottle or the ashtray, and Maggie admired him for it. He looked from Maggie to Jackson, obviously wondering what the visit was all about.

  “I’m so very sorry about Maureen.” She wondered how many more times she’d repeat the same platitudes before this plague was done.

  “Thank you, Maggie. You’re a good girl to come and check on me like this, but I’m fine, really. I just need time to wallow.”

  Maggie felt a blush creeping up her neck. She had been worried about him, but her reasons for being there were far from altruistic.

  “That’s not really why we’re here.” Maggie swallowed. “We need your help.”

  He looked confused, but nodded for her to continue.

  “Have you heard about the children?” she asked.

  He nodded again and ran his hand through his hair. “Yes, I heard. Yesterday when I went into town to buy whiskey and smokes. The place was deserted and then Gib Pierce, you know from the liquor shop, told me why.” He let out a deep sigh, but didn’t continue.

  “Doug, I think...” She hesitated and glanced at Jackson before continuing. “We think that the thing killing those children also killed Maureen.”

  Doug’s brows furrowed, deep lines creasing his forehead. “No. That can’t be, Maggie.” He leaned forward. “She’d just finished chemo, so she hadn’t been out or had any contact with anyone but me. You see, her immune system took a battering, so we couldn’t risk her catching anything. Whatever bug killed those children couldn’t have got to her.” He looked down at his hands. “I think maybe her body just couldn’t take anymore and that’s my fault… She didn’t want to go through another round of chemo, but I kept pushing her. I—” His voice was husky, and when he looked up, his eyes were wet with unshed tears.

  Maggie’s chest tightened. Doug hadn’t just been grieving, but suffering under the weight of his guilt. “Doug, it wasn’t the chemo or the cancer that killed Maureen. It was something much worse. Worse because it was deliberate.” Maggie struggled to keep her voice from rising. She could see her words were upsetting him, but couldn’t stop.

  Doug looked away, towards the empty rocking chair that sat near the fireplace. When he spoke, his voice was soft, but firm. “I think you two should go now. I’m tired.”

  “Come on, Maggie.” Jackson clamped a hand on her elbow, urging her to stand.

  “No.” She jerked her arm out of Jackson’s grasp. “Just listen to what I have to say and then if you still want us to go, we will. Please!” She was crying now, tears running down her cheeks and dripping onto the red scarf still wrapped around her neck.

  Doug looked back at Maggie,
then at Jackson. His expression softened and he nodded. “Okay. I’ll listen, but not in here. I need a smoke. We can sit out the back.”

  The three of them moved to the back veranda where they sat at a table with bench seats on either side, Doug on one side and Maggie and Jackson on the other. The four corners of the veranda were dotted with large terracotta pots, overflowing with purple petunias.

  “It’s nice out here.” Maggie nodded at the spotlessly maintained lawn and fruit trees, a pretty and peaceful space that in many ways reflected Doug and Maureen’s relationship.

  Doug nodded. A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Yes. Maureen loved this garden. We both did. We had a lot of happy times out here, we…” He trailed off and took a cigarette out the packet he’d been holding.

  Maggie took the packet Jackson had given her earlier from her handbag. For a minute or so no one spoke.

  “I didn’t know you smoked, Maggie,” Doug said around a plume.

  “I didn’t know you did,” Maggie said with a smile.

  “I quit about thirty years ago. Maureen read somewhere that it might help us with trying for a baby, so I stopped. Now seems like a good time to take it back up.”

  Maggie nodded and puffed on her cigarette. She’d have to quit again, go through the torture of nicotine withdrawal all over again, but it seemed like a worry for another day. Her main concern right now was convincing Doug to help them. He was a friend and a good man. Maybe that’s what led her to Doug and Jackson. If they were going to take on evil, they’d need good people to do it. She wanted to believe that there was good at work in Thorn Tree, as well as evil. Maybe with enough good on her side, the scales might tip in her favour.

  “All right,” Doug said. “I’m listening.”

  Maggie told Doug about her first meeting with Prapti. Then about Manjula and the run-in with Prapti at the café. She told him about Annabel and the other sightings of the little girl, including what Ollie said about his car accident. Finally, she went through the research she’d done online and, after lighting another cigarette, she got to Harness. She didn’t leave anything out, including Harness’s description of the demon.

  Maggie talked for nearly half an hour. During that time Doug smoked two more cigarettes, but never interrupted. His expression remained the same, bushy brows knitted together in concentration. It was a crazy story. Sitting on the veranda in the early autumn sun, it seemed so far-fetched that she was beginning to feel like she was wasting her time.

  Doug took his time before speaking, maybe weighing something up in his mind. “Jackson, why are you here?” The question wasn’t what Maggie had expected, but Jackson seemed unsurprised.

  He held Doug’s gaze with a directness that didn’t waver. “My grandmother died this morning. She’d been haunted by the Acheri all her life. Her last words to me were about stopping it and that’s what I’m going to do.” He shrugged.

  Doug looked back at Maggie. “So, you’re saying this woman...Prapti, brought a demon to our town and it’s killing people?” He spread his hands wide. “Why?”

  “I think it has a purpose. It wants Annabel, just like it wanted Manjula’s friend, Meena. But I also think it kills because that’s what it does.” She let out a sigh. “It kills.” She waited for him to speak, but when he remained silent, she continued, “It sounds unbelievable, but I know it’s true. If I had any doubts, they disappeared when Harness got sick.”

  “Maggie, I’ve lived a long time. Long enough to know only a fool dismisses things because they sound unbelievable.”

  “So you believe us?”

  “Yes, I believe you. What now?”

  ****

  Doug made three cups of strong instant coffee which they drank while Maggie outlined her plan.

  “Okay.” Doug set his cup down. “It sounds like you have it all worked out. I think we should take my Ute, though. If we’re going off road, it’ll be safer than using your car.”

  “All right. I’ll move it out of the way and we can load up the Ute,” Maggie said, getting up and draining the last dregs from her cup.

  “Give me five minutes, I need to grab a few things out of the shed. I’ll lock up and meet you both out the front,” Doug said, grinding out his cigarette in a chipped saucer they’d been using as an ashtray.

  Jackson and Maggie headed back through the house and out to the car. Just as Maggie opened the car door, Jackson stopped her.

  “Do you think he’s up to this?”

  Maggie thought for a moment before answering. “He’ll be okay. What about you? How are you feeling?”

  Jackson shrugged. “I don’t know. Ask me when it’s over.” He gave a nervous laugh.

  Five minutes later, Doug appeared at the back of the carport. Wearing a red trucker’s cap and carrying a shovel in one hand with a pitchfork in the other, he looked like he’d stepped out of a painting by Grant Wood.

  “What’s the pitchfork for?” Maggie asked.

  “What would angry villagers be without one?” Doug said, tossing the garden equipment into the back of the Ute. Jackson barked out a laugh, hawking like a kookaburra. The sound was so comical, Maggie found herself laughing along with him, enjoying a moment of lightness.

  When everything was loaded, they climbed in with Maggie squeezed in between the two men. The clock on the dashboard read ten after one, still hours before sunset. It would be a mistake to try and confront Prapti and the demon after dark. So far, the demon had only been spotted at night. Maggie hoped it meant the Acheri was weaker in the day. Any advantage, no matter how slim, was worth grabbing.

  “All set.” Doug reversed out of the driveway, the Ute bouncing onto the road.

  “Are you sure you know where Knoll Road is?” Maggie asked, gripping the seat.

  “I know where it is. I haven’t been up that way in years, though. I don’t know about an old shearer’s cottage, but if it’s there, we’ll find it.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “We’ll find it.” Annabel blinked, unsure of her surroundings.

  “It’s all right, love. We’re at the motel, remember?” Her mother’s voice was soft, comforting. Annabel lay back on the bed and allowed herself to relax. She remembered listening to the voices and sounds buzzing in her head until she couldn’t think.

  “Where’s Daddy?” she asked without opening her eyes.

  “He’s just popped out to get us something for lunch. He should be back any minute.” Her mother’s voice was closer now, she could feel her sitting on the bed. “What will we find?”

  Annabel thought about the dream she’d been having. A scary lady with long black hair was dancing around in an old shack waving something silvery and sharp in the air. She was waiting for someone, but Annabel couldn’t remember who.

  She tried to think, but the buzzing started again, blocking her thoughts. “I don’t know. I’m trying to…” The buzzing became a humming, and a name clarified amongst the background din –Maggie.

  Annabel sat up, eyes wide. Her mother was beside her. Golden light from the window spilled into the room, blurring everything but her face.

  “What is it? Tell me what’s happening.” Her mother’s voice was still soft, but there was pain in her tone.

  Before Annabel could answer, the door opened and her father walked in carrying a plastic bag.

  “There wasn’t much open, so I just got some orange juice, bananas and cookies.” He dumped a plastic bag on the table in front of her mother. “The streets are deserted, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Thorn Tree so quiet.” He pulled some coins from his pocket and slapped them on the table.

  “Daddy.” Annabel was having a hard time hearing her own voice over the confusion in her head. “I think Maggie’s in trouble. There’s a scary woman waiting for her. She knows Maggie’s coming and she’s going to hurt her.” She had to speak slowly, making sure each word came out.

  Her father came over and sat next to her mother on the bed and put his arm around Annabel’s shoulders. “It’
s alright, Bell Pepper. I’ll go and see Sergeant Gibson and tell him to check on Maggie. Okay?”

  “He’s sick, Daddy.” For a moment there was silence in her mind. “I’m not sure how sick, but I don’t know if he can help her.”

  Her father’s gaze flicked to her mother. Something passed between them. Annabel had seen them exchange a look like that a million times, but this time there was fear mixed in with the Are you thinking what I’m thinking look.

  He turned his attention back to his daughter. She didn’t know how to put her feelings into words, only that Maggie was trying to save her from the monster. If the scary lady from her dream knew Maggie was coming then something terrible would happen and the monster would come back tonight. She could feel the creature as surely as she could feel her dad’s arm on her shoulder. The monster wanted to hurt her and tonight, there would be nothing to stop it. She’ll get me just like she got the others. Her dad studied her face for a moment and nodded.

  “All right. I’ll walk over to the Police Station and get someone to check on Maggie. You two eat something. I won’t be long.” He kissed her on the head.

  Her mother walked him to the door, they kissed, and then he was gone. Annabel and her mother sat at the small dining table nibbling on the cookies and sipping orange juice that neither of them really wanted. Her mother kept glancing out the window watching the street. Annabel listened to the buzzing. She caught an echo. Maggie’s voice seemed far away, but for a second, it sounded like she was laughing. Annabel hoped that meant that she was all right.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Doug spotted the turn for Knoll Road. The bitumen was bleached almost white with age, the road cracked and neglected. Jackson and Maggie both agreed they’d never been out to this part of Thorn Tree before.

  “We’re not in Thorn Tree anymore.” Doug jerked his chin at the road ahead. “These old roads are ghost tracks leading up into the hills. There used to be small towns and settlements; most of them were destroyed by bushfires between eighty and a hundred years ago and never rebuilt. That’s why the bush grows so thick out here. After a big fire, it comes back stronger than ever.”