The Garden of Darkness

by Gillian Murray Kendall

  “Jem’s the boss,” said Clare.

  Rick laughed as if someone had made a particularly funny joke. And Clare saw Jem narrow his eyes again. But all he said was:

  “You can stay.”

  “We’ll set up our little tent in here,” said Rick. “It’ll give us all a little privacy—plus, it’s warm.”

  “I’ll get you some food,” said Jem.

  “You won’t believe what we had for dinner,” said Mirri to the general company.

  “But I bet you’re going to like it,” said Sarai.

  Clare put her hand on Bear’s head again, and he gave a great sigh as if he had been looking forward to putting his teeth into someone and had now lost the chance.

  Jem cooked up steaks and heated up some tomato soup for the three.

  “This is terrific,” said Noah. “I mean it’s really, really good. We’re so tired of dried meat and flat bread, I can’t tell you.”

  “I like flat bread,” said Mirri.

  “Maybe we could do some trading,” Clare said. “We have a surplus of moose.”

  “You have a deal, young lady,” said Rick.

  Clare felt Jem bristle.

  “‘Young lady,’” Jem muttered. “Give me a break. She’s almost as old as you are.”

  “I don’t think she’s quite my age yet,” Rick said. “All right if I call you ‘young lady,’ Clare? I don’t mean any harm.”

  “It’s all right. But age doesn’t matter any more. Here Jem’s in charge.”

  Later, Clare and Jem snatched a moment to take Sarai and Mirri aside, to discuss the newcomers.

  “They seem all right,” said Jem.

  “Bear gave them a good vetting,” said Clare.

  “Let’s be clear,” said Jem. “Bear’s response was a little ambiguous, especially when they came to the door. But Rick’s straightforward enough. Noah’s something of an enigma.”

  “I like Tilda,” said Mirri.

  “You’d like anyone who played Pretty Ponies with you,” said Sarai.

  Meanwhile, Rick and Noah set up the tent in the living room. “The smaller space warms up fast,” Noah explained when Clare, Jem, Sarai and Mirri came back out from the kitchen.

  The atmosphere loosened up a little as they all sat by the fire together.

  “Since Noah and Tilda and I met up,” said Rick, “we’ve never stayed in one place for long.”

  “Our first place was good,” said Jem. “But then we used up almost all the supplies in the area.”

  “Are you staying here for the winter?” asked Rick. “Because it doesn’t look that way; it sort of looks like you’re packing up.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” said Jem.

  Tilda broke the tension with a massive yawn.

  “I need to take off some layers,” she said. “I think I’m starting to steam.”

  “Me too,” said Noah.

  “Just pile your stuff by the woodstove,” said Jem. “It’ll soon dry out.”

  Tilda started unwinding her scarf and took off her outer jacket.

  “This takes a long time,” she said. “I‘m wearing about seven layers.”

  It was the most they had heard Tilda say so far.

  Rick motioned to Clare. “Can I talk to you?” he asked. She looked over at Jem, Sarai and Mirri. Then she bent down and stroked Bear, who was lying at her feet. It was comforting how close he stayed to her. Always.

  “All right,” she said.

  “Outside.”

  “Okay. But I’d really prefer it if Jem came, too.”

  “You’re the oldest.”

  “That’s not how it works here. Anything you tell me, I’ll be telling Jem later. And if we go outside, my dog comes too.”

  “There’s no need to be afraid,” said Rick. “I promise.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  Bear, who had been watching Clare the whole time, rose when she moved to the door.

  “Clare?” asked Jem, when he saw where they were going.

  “I’ll be right back, Jem. Don’t worry. Bear’s coming.” And Clare looked up at Rick, only to see that he had his eyes fixed on her.

  “Don’t stay out too long,” said Jem. “It’s cold.”

  The moon was a silver disc in the sky and the soft mounds of snow looked like graves in the dim light.

  “Pest can’t be very far away for you,” said Rick, as the door closed behind them.

  “Mirri and Sarai are far too young for Pest, and Jem’s only thirteen.” The words sounded odd in Clare’s ears. She didn’t think of Jem as thirteen.

  “I meant you, not all of you. It’s you I’m worried about.”

  “That’s not your business.”

  “Jem can find a place and winter it out with Sarai and Mirri. But, if you like, you can come with us.”

  “South?”

  “No. To the Master. You know about the Master?”

  Clare looked at Rick with astonishment. “You lied to us about where you’re going? What on earth for?”

  “Noah and Tilda and I agreed on what we’d say if we met other children. We don’t want hangers-on; we don’t know what the Master’s resources are.”

  “That’s pretty cold.”

  “I know your friends would agree to let you come. Or at least they wouldn’t stop you—not with Noah and me backing you up.”

  “Me. Without Jem.”

  “Pest will catch up with you,” said Rick.

  A light wind ruffled the tops of the snowdrifts and Clare pulled Michael’s Varsity jacket closer around her.

  “I want to go back in,” she said.

  “Jem has some years to go. You’re running out of time.”

  “You seem to know a lot more about this than we do.”

  Rick lowered his voice. “Maybe you haven’t heard yet, but the Master’s broadcasting on a wider frequency now. He’s setting up a new society, and he keeps saying that he has the real cure. He says the onset of Pest is between sixteen and eighteen. He’s our chance. He’s your chance.”

  “What’s all this secret stuff about taking me out here to talk to me?”

  “I like you.”

  Clare felt as if she were back in high school. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. No, I’m not.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I can see you in your eyes.” He looked at her intently “They’re very special.”

  “You can leave off with the ‘eyes are the windows to the soul’ crap.”

  “Are you and the boy lovers? Because if you are—”

  Clare was suddenly, inexplicably angry. Bear seemed to feel her agitation, and he gave a low growl.

  “Jem’s thirteen,” she said. “What do you think?”

  “I think that I don’t know.”

  “No. We aren’t lovers. We’re friends. Best friends. But that isn’t your business, either.”

  “I just want you to get through to Master.”

  “You can stop talking now. I’m going in.”

  Bear almost herded her through the door in his apparent eagerness to get Clare inside. Rick followed. The frostiness between Rick and Clare was obvious, and Clare saw Jem watching her curiously.

  When Rick and Noah and Tilda had all peeled out of their clothes and emerged from the tent in their sleepwear, the room began to smell of sweat and unwashed bodies. It was no worse than Clare, Jem, Sarai and Mirri smelled, but, Clare thought, it wasn’t their sweat and unwashed bodies. Not that they didn’t ever wash, but cold water baths tended to be cursory. Noah rubbed his neck.

  “Let me see,” said Jem.

  “That’s all right,” said Noah. “It’s just a stiff neck.”

  The three travelers disappeared into their tent.

  The other four retreated into their bedroom. Clare and Jem decided to keep a watch, but Clare found it hard to stay awake. She went and sat on Jem’s bed, and he climbed out of the covers and then draped a quilt around the two of them.

  “It’s strange to s
ee other children,” said Clare. “They’re so normal.”

  “They’re secretive.”

  “Maybe,” said Clare. She thought of Rick. “Yeah, I guess they are.”

  “They don’t quite seem like children to me. Except Tilda.”

  “What did you talk about while I was outside?” asked Clare.

  “I played chess with Noah.”

  “Who won?”

  “Please.”

  “Show off.”

  “What about Rick? What were you two talking about outside?”

  Clare could hear the soft breathing of Sarai and Mirri.

  “They know about the Master; they’re keeping their destination a secret; they don’t want what Rick called ‘hangers-on.’ And we talked about whether or not I’m close to the onset of Pest.”

  “You know you are.”

  “I’ll be sixteen in the spring. But Noah and Rick look like they’re almost eighteen.”

  “Let me guess. They don’t want us, but Rick invited you to go with them.”

  “Well,” said Clare. “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “I saw the way he looked at you. What did he say when you turned him down?”

  “Not much.”

  Jem was very quiet. It was too dark to see his face. As they sat on the bed, Clare knew that she would never tell Jem about Rick’s question. Ever.

  Time passed. It was warm under the quilt.

  “Are you still awake?” Clare asked.

  “Still awake. I’m thinking.”

  They huddled under the comforter. And, at some point, they both dozed off.

  Clare awoke a few moments later to see Tilda standing at the foot of the bed. Bear was sitting up, alert, and then he did something very strange. He walked over to Tilda and nudged her.

  “Noah won’t move,” said Tilda, putting her arms around Bear.

  “What do you mean?” asked Clare.

  “He’s lying on Bunny, and he won’t move.” And Tilda just stood there, a darker part of darkness.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A DEATH

  “DID YOU WAKE up Rick?” asked Clare of the sibyl-like figure at the end of the bed.

  “He’s asleep,” said Tilda. “But not as asleep as Noah. I can hear him breathing. Rick. Not Noah.”

  Jem was still leaning against Clare. He was sound asleep. It was chilly in the room, and, after lowering Jem to the bed, Clare covered him with another blanket. Hoping that there would be no need to wake him, she followed Tilda to the bright blue tent, which was outlined by the glow from the woodstove.

  Tilda made a move to go in, but Clare stopped her.

  “No, I’ll go.”

  Clare only had to touch Noah’s shoulder to know.

  She left Tilda at the door of the tent and went to get Jem. When she entered the bedroom, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Then she was by Jem’s side, shaking his arm, telling him to wake up. His breathing and his warm flesh reassured her.

  Life.

  He stared at her, confused. Then, muddled by sleep, he reached out and pulled Clare to him. “Clare?”

  “Bad news,” she said.

  “Clare! Are you all right?” He started to clamber out of bed. “Is it Sarai? Mirri?”

  She could hear the others stirring.

  “It’s Noah. He’s dead.”

  “Where’s Rick?”

  “Still asleep.”

  “How could he possibly sleep through someone dying?” asked Jem.

  “I guess he was tired,” said Clare.

  “Where’s Tilda?”

  “I left her by the tent.”

  By then Sarai and Mirri were out of bed, and Jem explained to them what was happening. Mirri was out of the bedroom before Clare could make a move to stop her. Sarai followed. Tilda was standing in the dark, Bear by her side.

  “What if Rick won’t wake up either?” Tilda said.

  “I’ll wake him up, don’t worry,” Clare said. “You stay out here with Jem.”

  “Clare, do you want me to—” Jem started to say.

  “No. It’s okay.” As Clare entered the tent, Bear gave a low whine and made as if to go with her, but she put him in a sit.

  Clare tried not to look at Noah as she shook Rick gently awake. For a moment, she wished that Jem had come into the tent too. Rick must have been bone tired as it took her some time to rouse him. The tent was stuffy, and Clare smelled the underlying odor of death. When she finally made Rick understand what was happening, he brushed her aside and turned to Noah’s body.

  “Aw, damn.”

  Rick covered Noah’s face with a blanket and, with Clare’s help, carried him out of the tent.

  They laid Noah in the center room. His body was red-gold in the light of dawn, but turned to greenish-blue as the sun rose higher in the sky.

  “He knew it was coming,” Rick said.

  “Pest,” said Clare.

  “Yes,” said Rick.

  Now that she could see him more clearly, Clare could make out the pustules on Noah’s throat and the lesions on his face.

  Tilda turned away.

  “Pest usually takes three days,” said Clare. “And it’s not usually so subtle. He didn’t look sick at all last night.”

  “The stiff neck,” said Jem.

  “I thought Pest only got you when you were old,” said Mirri. “Older than Noah, anyway.”

  “He was already seventeen,” said Rick. “Although he was younger than I am.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Clare.

  “At least he didn’t suffer,” said Sarai.

  “‘At least he didn’t suffer,’” said Rick, mocking Sarai. “‘At least he didn’t suffer.’ He’s dead. God.”

  Sarai looked stricken. Bear gave a low growl, but when Clare put her hand on his head, he stopped.

  “We’re all sorry,” said Clare.

  “You’re all going to be where he is soon enough,” Rick said. “She’ll go first, though,” he said, and looked at Clare.

  “Hey!” said Jem.

  “It’s okay,” said Clare.

  “It’s not,” said Jem.

  There was no doubt in Clare’s mind that Bear was picking up on the tension; he stood stiffly between her and Rick.

  Rick turned his back on them and began packing up the bright blue tent.

  “That was a mean thing to say about Clare,” said Mirri. “I didn’t think you were mean.”

  Rick looked up at Mirri. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry about all of it, Clare. Jem.”

  “It’s okay,” said Clare, but Jem was silent.

  Rick called Tilda. She came over to him right away, and he squatted down and took her by the shoulders.

  “We have to move on now,” he said. “We have to hurry south now so that I can keep taking care of you.”

  “Clare told me you’re going to the Master,” said Jem. “There’s no need to keep up the going south lie. We most certainly won’t be hangers on. You’re free to get there first.”

  “If you know where I’m going, you should know that Clare ought to be coming with me. With us.”

  “That’s Clare’s choice.”

  “Stop talking about me as if I weren’t here,” said Clare. “It’s annoying.”

  Tilda broke the tension. “I want Noah,” she said.

  “Noah’s with the dead now,” said Rick.

  “Will he come back?”

  “No, sweetie. He won’t.”

  “Can they come with us, too?”

  “It would be best if she came.” Rick looked at Clare. He paused. “But they can all come if they like.”

  “Good of you,” said Jem.

  There was a glitter in Rick’s eye that Clare didn’t like, but then it was gone.

  “Maybe Master can bring Noah back to life,” said Tilda.

  “There isn’t a cure for death,” said Rick. “We’ll leave Noah’s body here.”

  Jem nodded. Rick looked at him and sighed.

 
; These are good people,” he said finally to Tilda, “they’ll help us bury Noah. And we won’t forget him.”

  “Everyone counts,” said Mirri. “And funerals are good.”

  THE GROUND WAS still hard with frost. They took Noah to the edge of the woods where they covered his body with earth as best they could before building a small cairn over him.

  Tilda hugged each of them while Rick looked on. She made a move to hug Bear, but Clare said, “better not.”

  And then Bear surprised them all by padding over to Tilda and nuzzling her.

  “Maybe we’ll meet later,” Rick said. He was looking at Clare again.

  “Goodbye,” said Jem.

  “You know that it’s time to go,” said Rick. “For her. I wish you luck. I really do.” He held out his hand to Jem, and, after a second, Jem took it.

  “This is for you,” he said to Clare and handed her a map. “The best way to get to I-80 and Herne Wood. To the place Master’s talking about. I marked the trail.”

  Then Clare, Jem, Sarai and Mirri watched Rick and Tilda until they had climbed the rise behind the house and disappeared from sight.

  “I didn’t like Rick so much,” said Jem. “But considering everything, he held up pretty well. He liked you, Clare.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Did you like him?”

  Clare laughed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  JEM’S BIRTHDAY

  THEY DIDN’T FINISH preparing for their departure until Rick and Tilda had a day’s head start on them.

  Clare returned from the washing line, where she had hung out their sleeping bags to air, to find Mirri in the center of the living room, drawing. Her picture showed a giant next to a globe of the world. He had shoveled children into his mouth; arms and legs dangled from his lips

  “What’s this?” Clare asked.

  “I did not like Noah dying,” Mirri said. “I had a bad dream. I drew it.”

  That night Clare and Jem waited for Sarai and Mirri to go to sleep before they crept from the room and went to sit by the woodstove. The glowing embers warmed their faces. Clare closed her eyes and imagined spring, her hands full of thyme and rosemary, and then a summer garden, where someone she trusted walked towards her under a cold moon.

  “Rick was right, you know,” said Jem. “It’s only a matter of time before you grow into Pest.”