Sanctuary

by Brenda Novak

  “Harassing us isn’t going to do you any good,” she said. “Faith’s not leaving with you. She’s never going back. You might as well accept it and go home, where you can continue to pretend you’re God.”

  “As far as she’s concerned, I am God,” he said. Then he laughed, and it was creepy enough that Hope shivered.

  “You’re crazy. I hope you know that.”

  “You’d better hope I don’t get in there,” he said. “Because you know what I’m going to do to you? I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do since you were nine years old. I’m going to show you what you’ve missed over the years, pretty baby. And maybe when I’m done, you’ll be carrying my child, too. Just think, you and Faith could both be—”

  Suddenly Arvin turned. Hope searched the darkness behind him and found Mr. Paris hurrying across the lawn, wearing a pair of old pants with his pajama shirt tucked halfway inside and holding Oscar in the crook of one arm. Her neighbor stopped at the edge of the flower bed in front, which brought him just inside the circle of light shed by the porch fixture.

  “What’s going on here?” he said. At least, that was what Hope thought he said. He wasn’t as close to her as Arvin was, and she had to strain to hear him.

  “Mind your business, old man,” Arvin said. “This has nothing to do with you.”

  For fear of what might happen to her unsuspecting neighbor, Hope flew to the door, unlocked it and stepped outside. Mr. Paris had no way of knowing he was dealing with a man whose mind was warped by too much inbreeding.

  “Who’re you calling old?” Mr. Paris said. “Looks like the pot calling the kettle black. And what are you doing here, anyway?” He eyed the knife Hope still held in one hand, and Hope felt a little sheepish. She wasn’t sure she could’ve used it. It had just seemed like her only defense option at the time.

  “Doesn’t appear to me like you’ve been invited,” Mr. Paris finished.

  “He wasn’t invited,” Hope said. Trying to convince Arvin to move on before there was any kind of altercation, she added, “The police are already on their way.”

  “She’s got my wife,” Arvin said, his voice suddenly plaintive. “I’m just trying to get my wife back.”

  Mr. Paris squinted at him, then at Faith, who’d come out and was standing just behind Hope. “Looks to me like she’d be better off with a fella closer to her own age.” He hiked up his pants. “I think you oughtta leave.”

  A light came on across the street, and Mrs. Hortichek stuck her head out her screen door. “My Lord, what’s going on over there, Hope? You’d think the world was coming to an end, what with all the racket.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s nothing, Mrs. Horticheck,” Hope said. “You can go back to bed.”

  “I would if I could sleep,” she snapped, and slammed her door.

  “I’m going to call my father in the morning,” Hope told Arvin. “I think he’ll agree with me that you’ve finally lost your mind and give Faith his blessing to leave you.”

  “That’s what you think,” Arvin said. “You’ll never turn my own brother against me. If you so much as try—” he glanced malevolently at Mr. Paris “—no senile neighbor will be able to save you.” He gave Faith a hateful glance, then disappeared into the darkness, leaving Mr. Paris blinking after him.

  “Who’s he calling senile?” her neighbour said. “I do believe that man has a screw lose.”

  An engine roared to life near the end of the block, followed by the squeal of tires. “Or two or three,” Hope said with a sigh. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Are the police really on their way?” Mr. Paris asked eagerly. A visit from the police was big news in their neighborhood. The last time anybody called for emergency help was when Mrs. Fernley’s electric wok shorted out and set her kitchen on fire only days after Hope had moved in. That night, the entire neighborhood had stood on the lawns and watched the firefighters do their work. Some folks still talked about it fondly, as though they’d never enjoyed themselves more.

  “No, not really,” she said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  Hope made a mental note to purchase a cell phone at the mall the following morning, said good night to Mr. Paris and ushered Faith inside. But the next day, she knew a mere cell phone would never be enough. Arvin wasn’t going to back off—he’d left her a little reminder that he’d probably be visiting again soon. And that things might not end so well next time.

  When she opened the front door to retrieve the paper, there on her front step was Oscar the cat.

  But he was no longer breathing.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HOPE KNEW she couldn’t let Faith see Oscar, which made the distasteful job of removing the cat’s corpse, cleaning up the blood, and notifying poor Mr. Paris that much more difficult, because it all had to be done in secret. After eleven years of cautious, calculated movements, her entire life seemed to be veering out of control. But she couldn’t think of anything she should’ve done differently. She’d had to go back to Superior; she probably should have gone years ago. She’d had to bring Faith home with her; Faith had no one else to help her. And she’d had to send Bonner and Arvin away in no uncertain terms.

  Still, she felt responsible for Oscar’s death and even a little guilty for not loving him more when she’d had the chance. Except, now more than ever, she didn’t want to love anything. Love was a dangerous, risky venture.

  Take Oscar and Faith, for example.

  * * *

  “HEWHAT?” Bonner said.

  Hope drew a shaky breath and glanced at poor Mr. Paris, who was sitting at his kitchen table, so shocked by what had happened that he hadn’t even removed his muddy boots after helping her bury Oscar. “He…he killed my neighbor’s cat.”

  “He mutilated him,” Mr. Paris added, his voice ringing with outrage. “What kind of sick bastard does that to a defenseless cat?”

  “It wasn’t Arvin,” Bonner said. “He drove back to Superior with me, and I was with him most of the day.”

  “Were you with him last night?” she replied.

  “No, but…I can’t imagine he’d kill your neighbor’s cat. What does your neighbor have to do with anything?”

  “They exchanged a few words after Arvin cut the phone line and started harassing us last night. I’m sure Arvin wasn’t too pleased about the interference.”

  “Still,” Bonner said, “what’s the point of murdering a cat?”

  “He was sending me a message.” Hope closed her eyes and shook her head. She’d had no better luck convincing her parents. Her mother had said she’d look out for Sarah—grudgingly, because agreeing to do so acknowledged that Arvin might be dangerous—but Jed wouldn’t even hear her out. She and her father had started to argue almost immediately, and he’d hung up. Which was why she’d called Bonner. Bonner had heard Arvin’s threats yesterday. She’d hoped, because of that, he might listen to her and realize how dangerous Arvin was. “He left the cat on my doorstep.”

  “I’m sorry about that, Hope, but I don’t know what you think I can do.”

  “I want you to convince the Brethren that Arvin is unstable. He’s going to hurt someone, Bonner. Someone has to do something.”

  “What? He hasn’t hurt anyone yet. You think the Brethren are going to excommunicate him for killing a cat? I don’t think they care about some cat in St. George. Anyway, it’s your word against his, and I don’t have to tell you how they view you right now.”

  They? She knew Bonner viewed her the same way now. “You could tell them what he said yesterday.”

  “And he’d tell them he was just angry, that he didn’t mean it.”

  She dropped her head in her hand and rubbed her throbbing temple. “Faith has every right to leave him, Bonner.”

  “I can’t agree with you there,” he said. “I don’t believe in divorce. You know that. And Faith is carrying his child.”

  “Which means what?”

  “It means there’s nothing I can do. I can’t tell him to stay away fr
om his own baby. How would I enforce it even if I did?”

  That was the problem. The police had told her basically the same thing. She could file a restraining order against Arvin, but there was no guarantee he’d respect it. As much as she’d hoped the police or someone in Superior might be able to help, there wasn’t anything anyone could do. No one could watch Arvin around the clock. No one could ensure that he wouldn’t return and…

  She stared at Mr. Paris’s slumped shoulders, regretting that his kindness last night had cost him his pet. She knew he’d eventually adjust, maybe even get a new cat. He was a tough old guy. But she and Faith couldn’t go on living next door, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.

  She had to do something. And she had to do it right away.

  * * *

  “WHERE HAVE YOU been?” Faith asked, poking her head out the door as Hope removed her gardening boots.

  Hope positioned her boots carefully on the back porch so she wouldn’t have to look at Faith. Her mind still held the image of Mr. Paris’s face when she’d had to tell him about Oscar, and it was making her eyes burn and her throat ache.

  She couldn’t let herself care. If she cared, she’d be hurt. And she’d already promised herself that she wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt her again. But it didn’t seem to help.

  She struggled to speak around the lump clogging her throat. “I was just out pulling weeds.”

  “I checked the garden a few minutes ago.”

  “I was helping Mr. Paris with his garden.”

  “Are we still going shopping today?”

  Shopping. For what? Hope no longer felt safe in her own house. She certainly couldn’t bring a newborn baby here. What if Arvin returned while she was at work? Or got inside the house while they were sleeping? If he came after the baby was born, he’d steal it, at the very least. At the most…

  The memory of Oscar’s mangled body made her cringe. Blinking against the tears that blurred her vision, she said, “Not today. We need to pack. We’re going away for a while.”

  Faith’s head snapped up. “What are you talking about? The baby’s due soon.”

  “I know. But we can’t stay here. Arvin…” She cleared her throat. “He could come back.”

  “I thought we were going to call our parents, see if they’ll do something to stop him.”

  Hope had already tried that and knew it was futile. Even if their parents and Bonner were supportive of her and Faith, which they weren’t, Arvin would have plenty of opportunity to harass or harm them. Staying put was simply too big a risk to take. Especially with the prospect of a new baby…

  “I called Mama and Jed this morning.”

  “And? What did they say? Did they agree to look after Sarah?” she asked anxiously.

  “Mom said she’d make sure Sarah was fine, but…”

  “What?”

  “I think Arvin is more dangerous than I realized.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hope brushed the dirt from her jeans because focusing on something so trivial helped. “That we should just disappear. And we should do it today.”

  Faith put a hand to her chest and stepped back. “How can you say that? What about your job?”

  “I’ll just have to tell them that I’m in the middle of a family emergency and can’t come back to work for an indefinite period of time.”

  “And they’ll accept that?”

  “They might.”

  “What if they don’t?”

  “A good obstetrics nurse can find work just about anywhere.”

  “But if you leave like this, the hospital won’t give you a recommendation,” Faith said.

  “That’s not necessarily true. I’ve never been late. I’ve rarely missed a shift. And I’ve often worked through holidays and weekends so others could have time off. My supervisor has always been very complimentary of the way I handle my job. She might overlook the lack of notice.”

  “But you’d be leaving more than your job. What about your home?” Faith glanced around the room, and Hope couldn’t help but follow her eye, taking in all the things she’d sewn or painted over the years. Everything was so carefully arranged. She’d been comfortable here. Safe.

  But she wasn’t safe anymore. And neither was Faith.

  “I’m sorry, Hope. This is all because of me,” she said. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  “Yes, you should. You just shouldn’t have called home. I hope you know better than to ever do that again.” Seeing the distress on her sister’s face, Hope backed off. Faith was only eighteen. Considering her lack of experience and the emotional turmoil of the past few days, what she’d done was perfectly understandable. “But if I were you, I might’ve done the same thing,” she said. “In any case, it’s not going to help us if we waste time feeling bad about past mistakes. We need to start planning for the immediate future.”

  “How?” Faith fiddled with the end of her braid, and Hope wished she could get her to leave her hair loose or cut it. “Where could we go? Salt Lake?”

  Hope closed and locked the door behind her. “I know a place,” she said. “It’s in New Mexico.”

  “But I’ve never been outside Utah. How do you know this place?”

  “It’s where I had my baby,” Hope said. She didn’t add that it was where Autumn might be living now, as a ten-year-old girl.

  * * *

  THE DRIVE WAS long and hot. It was spring in other parts of the world, but the Arizona desert felt like summer, especially because the air conditioner in Hope’s car had broken down shortly after they reached Cedar Ridge. By the time they hit the Petrified Forest National Park near the Arizona-New Mexico state line, Hope’s shirt was stuck to her back and her temper had grown short. They’d taken most of the day yesterday to move her things into storage. Then they’d spent the night at a motel, because she didn’t want any more unpleasant surprises from Arvin, and at five o’clock this morning they’d set out. It had been a stressful couple of days.

  “I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t let me ask Mr. Paris if I could bring Oscar with me,” Faith grumbled, bringing up the subject they’d argued about several times already.

  “I told you, Mr. Paris would never have let him go,” Hope said.

  “I thought Mr. Paris didn’t really care about him.”

  Hope had thought she didn’t really care about him, either. As much as she didn’t want to face it, she’d found out differently when she discovered his lifeless body on her porch. “You can’t go up to someone and simply ask for his pet,” she said.

  “You said Oscar just hangs out on his own. That hardly sounds as though Mr. Paris would care a whole lot if he came with us.”

  Hope propped her elbow on the door and sighed. “It would be harder to find a place to rent with a pet,” she said, searching for reasons.

  Faith turned toward the window, still brooding about not being able to bring the cat, and they lapsed into silence again. Overall, they hadn’t spoken much. There hadn’t been a lot to say now that they were both leaving their former lives behind. Hope wasn’t sure how long they’d stay in Enchantment. She was afraid it might prove too painful to be back, that she’d find herself searching the face of every girl anywhere close to Autumn’s age for a possible family resemblance. But she’d given up the house in St. George because she knew she could never return and feel secure.

  Fortunately she’d had practice in leaving things behind. Which was why she’d been able to drive away with only a simple phone call to the hospital.

  Poof. The past eleven years of her life had disappeared as quickly as the first sixteen. Only this time she’d briefly considered calling a few people to say goodbye. Jeff, the man she’d been dating on and off, a couple of nurses with whom she’d worked, a few neighbors. At least she’d seen Mr. Klinger and Mr. Livingston from down the street when they’d come to help her move everything into storage. She’d said a private goodbye to Mr. Paris. She hadn’t asked him to help her move, beca
use she didn’t want Faith to find out about Oscar. And the rest of her friends and neighbors…

  The rest she wouldn’t think about, she decided. Just like she wouldn’t think about Oscar. Or Arvin. Or Bonner…

  To her chagrin, the list was getting rather long.

  “You look tired,” Faith said.

  She’d had too little sleep over the past few nights to recover after only one fairly solid block of eight hours in a motel. But she couldn’t ask Faith to drive. Faith didn’t have a license. The men in the Everlasting Apostolic Church did all the driving. It was one more way to keep their women powerless and dependent.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “How about you?”

  “I’d be better if Oscar was here.”

  “Would you shut up about Oscar?” Hope snapped.

  Faith’s lips thinned. She folded her arms and stared straight ahead.

  Hope rested her head on one hand, wishing she’d held her tongue. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I know what we’re doing isn’t easy for you, and it’s all my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s our parents’ fault, and it’s not easy for either of us.” After all, Faith was moving for the second time in a week, after having lived her entire life in the same small town.

  “Do you think we’re making the right decision?” Faith asked.

  “We’re staying safe. I think that’s a pretty good idea.”

  Hope could feel Faith studying her. “Can you tell me about the place we’re going? It seems so—” she gazed out the window at the desert, which stretched on either side of them as far as the eye could see “—flat.”

  “Enchantment is nothing like this,” Hope said, remembering the deep cool forests of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, the snow-covered peaks, the rapid streams that cut through the sparsely populated area. The Rio Grande Gorge wasn’t far from the Enchanted Circle north of Taos, where the small, resortlike town of Enchantment was located, and the whole area smelled of pine and piñon. “It’s high wilderness, but it’s sort of touristy, with cute little shops and lots of ski-rental places.”