There was wainscoting and faded cabbage rose wallpaper. The stairs creaked beneath their weight. The house's scent was layered like food in a pantry: toasted stuff, syrup, spice, soot, and sweat all closed up too long together. The finials on the bannister were carved to look like pineapples; the carpet runner was ancient. Patches of wood shined through it like a hint of a baldhead under a deceptive sweep of once luxurious hair. The smell of food and burning wood rose to meet them. There was a pop and snap of a crackling fire, and better than anything, the sounds of conversation rolled their way when they reached the ground floor.
There was no door to the dining room, just a huge opening in the plaster wall that was framed by stained lumber. Billy walked through it like he was taking a hill; as if he feared he would retreat if he hesitated. The conversation stopped.
Hannah looked at the people looking back at her. She started to smile the way a person does when they're the new kid at school – tentatively, hopeful that she would be liked. Then, like the new kid at school, the blur of excitement was gone, and Hannah saw everyone clearly and what she saw took her breath away.
These people around the table – each and every one of them – were broken.
CHAPTER 14
Duncan stood up and the others put their hands in their laps.
This was the first time Hannah had seen him in living color instead of through the shadows of her room. He was artist-pale and slope-eyed, but she could see that his eyes were hazel-clear like topaz. He smiled that fantastic smile and the more he did it, the tighter Billy held her.
"Well, well. This is wonderful," Duncan said. "Truly. Wonderful to have Hannah with us. Everyone stand. Everyone."
Everyone stood up but Hannah kept her eyes on Duncan, the most normal person in the room. He wore a plaid shirt and skinny jeans and cardigan. Downstairs the house was chilly and warm in waves depending on the proximity to a stove, so it didn't surprise Hannah that he was layered up. It was the rest – the style of Duncan – that was kind of cool. His hair was short in the back with a long fringe of soft, dark, blond-streaked hair hanging across his forehead. It covered one artistically arched eyebrow. His lips were wide and strong but stained by nature to a beautiful rose color. His skin was as translucent as alabaster. He looked like a young man in a medieval painting. Back home he'd be a hipster. Here, he was leader of the pack, the choir director, the warm and welcoming host who acted as if nothing was wrong.
Which it wasn't.
Not really.
Now, though, Hannah understood what was wrong with Billy. The beautiful, golden beach boy was in an alternate universe and not just on another planet. Everyone in this house was flawed and it made him feel guilty that he was not. Not that Duncan noticed Billy's discomfort or Hannah's surprise. He just kept on keeping on.
"This is wonderful to see you downstairs."
Duncan was still enthusing and when he raised his arms everyone around the big table clapped. Some of them didn't do it as well as others. Melody didn't do it well. Duncan lowered his hand and that was a signal, too.
"Sit, everyone. Sit down. Hannah and Billy, we've saved you these places. Here, sit next to me. Come on now. This is such a wonderful moment. We hoped you would come down tonight. You look wonderful, Hannah."
Duncan held out a chair to the right of his own. Billy hesitated, and then carried Hannah down the long room. She didn't make eye contact with anyone but then again no one made eye contact with her either. They looked at her cast, her face, her stitches, her swollen eye, the bruises, and the lump on the side of her mouth. They looked at the tattoo that was peeking out of the high neck of her blouse. They looked at her dark skin. She didn't know how she knew they were looking at the color of her skin, but she knew.
Hannah sought out the most familiar face and that was Melody's. The woman dipped her head the way she did when she was pleased. Hannah hadn't noticed that one of Melody's arms was shriveled and useless. Her hand was a claw that twitched of its own accord. Hannah thought she had a light touch, but now she knew that Melody couldn't do more than drag those fingers across her skin while she nursed her.
"Hello, Hannah," Melody said.
"Hi," Hannah answered.
Teresa was next to Melody. Her silver hair was neat and tidy as always, skimming her chin, long bangs at her brows. Her guarded expression was no surprise. Teresa wasn't a fawner, but she had leaned over Hannah's bed for days as she cared for her. Hannah had seen her back more often than she could count and yet she never noticed that Teresa wasn't just stooped, her spine was deformed.
Next to Teresa there was a middle-aged man with melted hands. Three fingers were stumps. His body was stiff. As Billy passed, he turned it like he was rolling a barrel so Hannah knew his torso must be patch-worked together, shrunken and tight like hide on a Kettle Drum.
Hannah's lashes fluttered. They were almost past him when she looked at his face. That was a mistake. Whatever catastrophe befell this man it spared his face. If it were a beautiful face, saving it from the fire would have been a lovely miracle; if his face were ugly the fire would simply have evened things out so that his body matched it. But this was just an unmemorable face.
She looked away so she wouldn't stare only to find herself eye-to-eye with a mountain of a man. If the burned man's face was unmemorable this man's was the stuff of nightmares. Half of it was covered with a port wine stain so deep and dense that it looked like it was fashioned of leather. The other half was all pink, white, and round – cheeked. He smiled – sort of; Hannah smiled back – sort of. Beside that man was a child, a dwarf. Beside that child were a man and a woman who were also small people. There was another man . . .
"Right here, Billy. Just put her here. I guess you're still moving sort of slow, Billy. That's okay. Put her here, whenever you can manage." Duncan directed them but when they didn't move any faster, Duncan bypassed Billy. "Hannah? Is this fine? Hannah?"
Startled, Hannah looked at Duncan. It had taken no more than thirty seconds to walk the length of the table and yet the journey seemed endless. They had passed faces that were blank and bright all at the same time. They had looked at bodies put together in the right order with the wrong tools. Duncan, garrulous host of this party, was old world mannered and conciliatory. He held out a chair like he was a suitor on a first date. He was out of place in this room because there was nothing wrong with him.
"Gently, Billy. Right here. Can you do it, Billy? I can do it if you can't, Billy."
"I got it, dude." Billy put her down. His lips brushed her ear. He whispered, "You're doing good."
Hannah turned her head to whisper back: Why didn't you tell me? Before she could say anything, Hannah saw Duncan staring at Billy, looking through him as if he didn't exist. When Duncan noticed her, the two happy parts of his face were back.
"Help me, Billy. Let's get her a little closer to the table." In the next second, Hannah's chair was airborne. When they set her down, Billy asked:
"You okay, Hannah?"
Before she could answer, Duncan called out:
"Lord!"
Heads snapped toward him. Eyes sparked. Broken bodies seemed to realign. Only Billy and Hannah were immune to the call: Billy because he just didn't like Duncan and Hannah because she didn't know what to make of it. In all the times he visited her, Duncan never sounded like he was leading a revival. He sounded like a friend.
"Lord." Duncan hit the 'd' really hard. "This is just so cool that Billy and Hannah are at our table, safe from everything and everyone that could do them harm. We all look forward to hearing what your purpose is in bringing them here. We hope you will speak through our sister, Pea, sooner than later, but we are patient people. Until we hear from you, we will watch over these two wonderful young people and I know they will live with us in peace and harmony. Amen."
Amens weren't mumbled, they were shouted out like high fives to heaven, their words slammin' and jammin' like God's backup singers. It was a lot of nois
e for a small gathering, and Duncan grinned as he surveyed the room. Finally, his hands pumped and he shut off the worshipful spigot. The broken people helped the other broken people adjust their chairs until everyone was settled in two neat rows. Duncan looked over his congregation as if trying to decide who to pick for his playground team.
"Melody, will you do the honors and introduce everyone?"
She blushed and bloomed under his attention. She stood up and lifted that withered, useless arm of hers. The fingers fluttered but didn't really move as she touched Teresa.
"Teresa cooks all our food and helps Robert in the store. Or maybe he helps her. We can never really be sure." Everyone laughed a little, and the tiny boy reached for a piece of bread. His mother stopped him. Hannah made a sympathetic face, but he didn't smile, so she nodded at Teresa while Melody talked. "Teresa's our doctor because she used to work for one before she came here. She made your cast."
Melody turned to her left and to her right as she went around the table. She picked up a fork with her good hand and used it to point at the burned man.
"That's Glenn Gallo. He cuts all our wood, cleans the flues and makes sure the fires are always burning. We're all really happy to have him be our friend in the winter," Melody leaned toward Hannah. "He helped carry you up stairs."
"Thank you," Hannah said even as she wondered if she was the only one who saw the irony in a burned man being in charge of cutting wood and stoking fires. But Melody was merrily off again.
"And that's Robert." She indicated the huge man with the leather face. "Okay, so you know he helps in the store. It's his job to get supplies. Our food and clothing and things. That's what he was doing when he found you. He was coming back from his last trip to the city for the season. He carried you to the boat and then helped Billy get there. Then he helped carry you upstairs."
"That was amazing, Robert," Duncan broke in. "Truly, truly amazing that you were able to get both of them on the boat. Well done."
Duncan put his hands together and clapped. Glenn of the burns tapped his hand on the top of the table and Melody clasped her own in front of her heart. Teresa didn't move and the others sat quietly. Robert's tiny little eyes blinked – one working more efficiently than the other.
"Billy told me you were really brave," Hannah said.
It was getting easier to look at all of them. It was probably getting easier for them to look at her, too, so Hannah figured they were even.
"God told me where to find you. Duncan helped, but it was God that talked to me." Robert's expression didn't change. His high, nasal voice had no inflection, and was made unique because of it. He pursed his lips and added: "You are heavy. You didn't look heavy. You were dirty, too."
Everyone laughed as Robert blinked and blinked. Even Billy was laughing, pushing his long hair behind his ear, looking at her, and sparkling like Billy did in the old days. Hannah's dread was starting to fade. These were just people. Melody was trying to get everyone's attention, but nobody gave it to her until Duncan frowned.
"That's Connie and Paul and their son Peter," Melody went on. "They tend the gardens when it's warm, and Paul repairs things."
Hannah nodded at them but Melody was already on Foster, a trembling man who stuttered something. He was the teacher and Peter his only student. He could barely get hello out of his mouth, and Hannah could only imagine what it must be like trying to learn a lesson from him.
While all this was going on, Teresa went to the kitchen and came back with a platter. Hannah thought that this must be what Thanksgiving felt like if you had a big family. But when Melody was finished and people started talking she decided this was more like Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter all rolled into one. Questions came at her like confetti and she scooped them up and sent them back in a flutter of answers.
Tired.
Fine.
Tired.
My head hurts.
I didn't feel the needle.
Yes, I'm hungry.
We came from California.
Teresa offered chicken and pasta, and everyone took a small portion. Hungry as Hannah was, she took the same. Even Robert didn't take more than his share. Teresa went away and came back with tea. She filled each glass by half. The bread was passed, and there was exactly one measured piece for each of them. When everyone was served, they all picked up their forks at the same time.
"This is so good. Thank you, Teresa," Hannah said and she meant it.
She glanced at Billy. There was barely enough food on his plate for a snack but he didn't seem to mind. He stabbed at his food and smiled at her. She went back to talking to Duncan about books and painting. To Billy the guy sounded like a dweeb, but Hannah was happy. The more he listened to her, the more Billy understood that this whole thing – their journey together – may have started with him, but in the end it was all about her. It always had been.
Hannah had been running through the dark forever and now she was seeing some light at the end of the tunnel. Billy couldn't see it, he didn't even believe it was there, but if Hannah could then that was cool. Maybe a few months here would be okay. Hannah might decide she didn't like it. Or maybe she wouldn't want to leave. Whatever happened, they would each have to choose whether to stay or whether to go.
He ate a piece of chicken but admitted he was kidding himself if he thought he had a choice when it came to Hannah. He would never leave her, not even if she told him to go away. He was thinking he could pretend everything was cool for the next few months, when Melody stood up. One by one, the people around the table got quiet as they noticed her. Duncan was so involved with his conversation with Hannah he was the last one to look at her.
"Melody?" Duncan said.
"Duncan." She clasped her hands to her breast and looked around the room. "Everyone."
Beside her, Teresa reached up and put a warning hand on Melody's hip. Billy put his fork down. Robert's mouth fell open, and Glenn asked 'what's going on?' even though it didn't really sound like he wanted an answer. Foster stuttered and the two little people exchanged a look that wasn't good. Melody was oblivious. She only had eyes for Duncan now. He started to rise but what Melody said next kept him in his chair.
"Oh, Duncan," she breathed. "Pea spoke to me."
CHAPTER 15
Hannah sat on her bed with her legs up and out in front of her. Billy sat on her bed, too, but his feet were on the floor, his head down, and his eyes on a knot in the wood that was black with age. Melody had been up to fill the water glass and put something on Hannah's stitches, but she was silent and looked sicker than her patient. Billy and Hannah hadn't spoken since she left, partly because they weren't sure what to say and partly because there was a shared sense of caution. When Billy figured no one else was coming to check on them, he said:
"That was weird."
"No kidding." Hannah hitched her skirt up and over her cast. She popped the top buttons on her blouse and rolled up the sleeves.
"That's better," Billy said.
"What's better?"
"Those clothes look better now. You look like yourself. Kind of like you're cool Amish."
Hannah shrugged. She didn't know what 'herself' was anymore. Before they went to dinner she was all in to spend the next few months in this peaceful place. It wasn't so peaceful anymore.
"He was so mad." Billy put his hands behind him and rested on them. He kicked out one leg and then the other and then got tired of that. He scooted back, crossed his legs, and faced Hannah. "It would have been better if he yelled or something, but it was like his guts were kind of all over his face. Did you ever see that movie where there are these huge cocoons, and people get duplicated in them, but they have all this slime all over them and they can't really talk or anything? Body Snatchers! That's the movie I was thinking about." Billy was pleased with himself for remembering, but he couldn't help shaking his head. "Duncan was so mad at Melody. Man, she looked like she was going to puke."
"It wasn'
t her fault. I mean, if that Pea person said something to her then she did," Hannah said. "Do you think it's a rule that she can't talk to anyone else but Duncan?"
"No, I think Duncan was the big cheese because that lady talked to him. Didn't I tell you he was weird? Didn't I, Hannah?"
"Maybe Pea is weird," she shot back. "I mean, what kind of person only talks to one person?"
Hannah looked at her nails. She had broken them all over the last few months. In the last week while she lay in bed, they had started to grow back. Funny how seeing those little white half moons made her feel well. She dropped her hands.
"Do you think he's keeping her a prisoner?" Hannah asked.
Billy shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe. I mean he locked the door when he left me that first night. He said it was an accident, but maybe not. Maybe he's locked her in."
"Nobody locks my door," Hannah said.
"Like they couldn't hear you coming?"
"Good point," Hannah said.
"We would have been able to tell if there was something really bad like that going on, don't you think? I mean, we would have felt it, wouldn't we?"
"Yes. I suppose," she said. "Do you think they'll let you stay in here, tonight?"
"No choice." Billy moved around again, trying to get comfortable on the narrow mattress. "I'm moving in. That's just . . ."
Billy stopped talking. He put his finger to his lips. He inclined his head toward the door. Hannah looked, but there was nothing to see. She listened and that's when she heard the doorknob jiggle. Billy got off the bed slowly, and Hannah sat up straighter. She threw the skirt down over her knees and buttoned up her blouse again.
"Billy. . ." she whispered.
"Shhh," he hissed.
Tiptoeing across the room, he stopped long enough to take the pitcher off the dresser and emptied it into the bowl where it was nestled. For a second it seemed whoever it was had gone away but then the knob jiggled again. Billy scooted the last few feet and flattened himself against the wall. He held the heavy pitcher high with one hand and reached across his body for the doorknob with the other. Counting to three, he threw it open, ready to strike.
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