Olney Springs

by Claudia Hall Christian

  “Feels like decades,” Jacob said.

  “We’d never let you go that long,” Blane said.

  “Not a chance,” Mike said.

  “How do I . . .?” Jacob’s eyes flicked to Blane. “Is that something you can help me with?”

  “Acupuncture won’t do it,” Blane said.

  “My dad said that you have to release the amber,” Mike said. “I didn’t really get what he was saying, but it was something like you hold onto the amber as much as the amber is stuck inside you.”

  “That’s why Delphie wasn’t affected,” Jacob said.

  “Keenan, either,” Blane said.

  “Why would I hold onto the amber?” Jacob asked.

  “Why would you?” Mike asked.

  Shrugging, Jacob turned his attention to his beer. Seeing the shift in Jacob, Mike and Blane returned to their joking. After a few minutes, they decided to suit up for a game of rollerblade hockey in the now-empty driveway. They played until they were sweaty and laughing. They went in when the light failed. After showering and changing, they went to pick up their children.

  The press of dinner and baths kept the question far from Jacob’s mind. As soon as the boys were in bed and Katy was reading a book, Jacob’s question returned.

  “Why would I hold onto the amber?” he thought.

  Shaking his head at himself, he opened a bottle of wine and waited for Jill to return from the trial.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Wednesday night — 9:37 p.m.

  Jill pushed open the door and listened to the silent loft. She slipped off her shoes and set them inside the threshold. She padded across the wood floors in her socks. She drifted toward the kitchen where the light over the kitchen bar highlighted an open bottle of red wine and an empty glass. She poured herself some wine.

  “Hi,” Jacob said in a low voice.

  Jill started, sloshing the wine onto the counter. Rather than clean up the spill, she set down the glass and threw her arms around him. She trembled in his arms.

  “That bad?” Jacob asked.

  “Worse,” Jill said. “Just . . . horrible. By the end, the girls — every single one of them — were crying. Their parents were stoic. It was . . .”

  “Awful,” Jacob said.

  “And amazing,” Jill said. “This young man, well, I guess he’s about my age, stood up there for hours pleading guilty to each crime. When it was over, he looked so relieved. It’s hard to describe. He looked completely at peace. Samantha said he’s on suicide watch. No one wants him to kill himself before they read their victim statements.”

  Jacob nodded and held on. Jill kissed his cheek and pulled back. She picked up her wine glass. Taking his hand, they walked to where Jacob had been sitting. Katy was asleep in the big chair.

  “You didn’t put her to bed?” Jill asked.

  “She wanted to wait up for you,” Jacob said. “Every time I put her down, she got up. I figured this was easier than forcing her to sleep in some arbitrary place. Plus . . .”

  He looked at Jill’s face and shifted a piece of hair behind her ear.

  “She was worried about you,” Jacob said.

  “With good reason,” Jill said.

  Jacob picked Katy up and carried her back to her bedroom. He kissed Katy’s cheek and left so that Jill could tuck her in. Jill returned to the fire a few minutes later.

  “How are the girls — Noelle, Tink, Ivy, and the others?” Jacob asked.

  “Good, I think,” Jill said. “The whole thing was hard, but, in the car, they seemed lighter. Heather said they were better than they’d been in a long time. They certainly seemed better. Lighter.”

  “What a relief just to have the trial over,” Jacob said.

  “They are reading their victim statements on Friday,” Jill said. “Then it’s over forever. Just like that.”

  “What a relief,” Jacob repeated.

  Jill nodded.

  “I guess the question is: How will they move on?” Jill asked. “It’s been such a big part of their lives for such a long time.”

  “We’ll certainly help,” Jacob said.

  “Of course,” Jill said.

  She leaned back into him and the couch. They sat for a few minutes in silence.

  “How was your day?” Jill asked.

  “Good,” Jacob said with a nod. “Aden thinks I might be done at Lipson.”

  “That’s good news,” Jill said.

  Unwilling to start the conversation when Jill was so tired, Jacob simply nodded.

  “You okay?” Jill asked.

  “Good,” Jacob said. “Mike, Blane, and I played rollerblade hockey this afternoon.”

  “The three Musketeers,” Jill said with a smile. “It must be great to have Blane back.”

  Jacob nodded. Jill drained her glass. Jacob raised his eyebrows in expectation.

  “Ready for bed?” she asked with a grin.

  “Always,” Jacob said. He hopped up from the couch. “Race you.”

  Jill took off toward their bedroom. Laughing, he followed her to bed.

  Chapter Three Hundred and Ninety-Seven

  Cake and Conversation

  Wednesday night — 9:57 p.m.

  “How is Jake?” Heather asked when Tanesha left for bed.

  Heather had just returned from the trial. Between getting Tink settled, checking on her sons, and catching up with Tanesha, she hadn’t had time to check in with Blane. He was drinking a cup of tea on a bar stool at the island in the kitchen.

  “Can you set it up so I can talk to Charlie?” Tink asked as she came into the kitchen.

  “I thought you were in bed,” Heather said.

  She gestured to the day bed in the living room where Tink was supposed to be sleeping.

  “I . . .” Tink shrugged. “Can I talk to Charlie?”

  “Of course,” Blane said.

  Blane squeezed Heather’s shoulder as he passed. He got Jeraine’s expensive tablet computer from the charging station. There was no way they could afford to replace it if it broke, so Blane controlled the use of the tablet. When Tink and Charlie were connected, Blane returned to the kitchen. Closing the swinging door, he saw Heather with a fork full of chocolate cake halfway between the cake and her mouth. He laughed. She grinned and took a bite.

  “Would you like a plate?” Blane asked.

  “I have one,” Heather said.

  She picked up the plate the cake was on and brought it to the island.

  “You are the most gluttonous goddess in Olympia,” Blane said with a laugh.

  “You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Heather grinned.

  He laughed and got a fork. For a few minutes, they ate cake in silence. She set her fork down first.

  “The pleading was . . . intense,” Heather said. “I thought Tink was going to lose it, but she was very poised. I think she felt like she needed to be strong for the younger girls.”

  “She and Charlie really led that group,” Blane said.

  “Exactly,” Heather said. “She cried in the car only when Ivy started crying.”

  “She didn’t get upset when he pled guilty to her assault?” Blane asked.

  Heather shook her head.

  “Wow,” Blane said.

  “I think we’ll have to keep an eye on her,” Heather said. “The victims’ statements are going to be tough.”

  Blane nodded as he put a bite of cake in his mouth.

  “I do make a good cake,” Blane said.

  “A great cake,” Heather said with a smile and a bite of cake.

  Grinning, he followed her lead and took another bite of cake.

  “We’re writing the victim’s statement tomorrow?” Blane asked.

  Heather nodded. He shook his head at the next hurdle.

  “It seems like one thing after another,” Blane said.

  “We were lucky he pled,” Heather said.

  “It doesn’t sound like luck had much to do with it,” Blane said.

  Heather nodded. She to
ok another bite of cake and gestured to him with her fork.

  “You’ve got to keep up,” Heather said. “You’re behind in your cake eating.”

  Laughing, Blane took another bite of cake.

  “How are you feeling?” Heather asked.

  “Good, mostly; tired sometimes,” Blane said. “We played rollerblade hockey this afternoon. A couple of times, I thought I was going to pass out.”

  Heather’s brow furrowed with concern.

  “Every time I felt bad, Jake made these big jokes about how he needed to slow down now that he’s ‘retired’,” Blane said.

  “So you could rest?” Heather asked.

  Blane nodded.

  “How is he doing?” Heather repeated her question.

  “I don’t really know,” Blane said. “We finally got him to talk about the Sea of Amber.”

  “Oh?” Heather asked. “What did he say?”

  “He said that he lost all self-boundary and became at one with the dark,” Blane said.

  “At one with the dark?” Heather asked.

  “Those are my words,” Blane said. “But, yeah, basically, that’s what he said.”

  “Wow,” Heather said.

  “Yes, wow,” Blane said. “Mike had already talked to Perses about it.”

  “Perses has wanted Mike to help Jake,” Heather said with a nod.

  “And you know that how?” Blane asked with a smile.

  “Olympia grapevine,” Heather said.

  “Really?” Blane asked.

  “No,” Heather said with a smile. “Perses has asked me a few times if Mike has talked to Jake about the Sea of Amber. He says he can smell the amber on Jake.”

  “‘Smell the amber?’” Blane asked.

  “That’s what he says,” Heather said with a shrug.

  “Do you?” Blane asked.

  “I’m not sure I’d recognize the smell of amber,” Heather said. “Perses has been in the Sea of Amber more than once. He knows what it can do.”

  “He told Mike that stories about the Sea of Amber were intentionally excluded from record to keep curious people from looking for it,” Blane said. When Heather nodded, he continued, “He said that Jake is holding onto the amber as much as the amber is stuck inside of him.”

  Heather nodded.

  “You know all of this?” Blane asked.

  “No,” Heather said. “It just makes sense to me. You ever look at the history of the Christian Church? Much of it is about people, usually men, deciding what stories to pass along. It makes sense to me that the Sea of Amber would be left out. Serpents and Dragons, too.”

  “Except the whole Eve and Serpent thing,” Blane said.

  “Right,” Heather said. “The story implies that the serpent is evil. If there were more than one serpent . . .”

  “Mike said the Sea of Amber is the literal embodiment of the story about hell,” Blane said.

  “Huh,” Heather said. “Makes sense.”

  Blane nodded and then sighed. Heather touched his forearm.

  “I’m really worried about Jake,” Blane said. “He’s not himself. I mean, he’s still an incredible human being, my soul brother, but this . . .”

  Blane shook his head with anger.

  “This stupid amber is . . . clogging him,” Blane said. “I fear he will suffocate under this oppressive . . . “

  Blane got up. He gestured to the cake, and Heather nodded. Blane picked up the plate. Turning his back to Heather, he put the cake into the crystal cake dome Celia had given him. He set the dome over the cake and sighed. Shaking his head, he turned around. Seeing Heather’s concerned eyes, he smiled.

  “I never quite get used to you actually listening to me,” Blane said with a smile.

  Heather blushed. He looked down and shrugged.

  “I don’t want to lose him,” Blane said. “I feel like . . . this dark will consume him. God. What would I say to Celia? ‘I know you risked life and limb to save my life, but Jake fell into the Sea of Amber. Sorry. Jake was tricked by what we think might have been a serpent because Jill and her friends killed the last breeding pair of serpents and then my wife had to go and help a dying species transition in peace while she was in labor with my second son. Even with all of that, we couldn’t figure out how to bring Jake back, though. Too bad.’”

  Blane gave an angry snort and shook his head.

  “It’s a legendary trap,” Heather said. “Most don’t return, and those who return are usually not sane.”

  “Perses did,” Blane said.

  Heather nodded.

  “Why is Perses clear and Jake is infused with the stuff?” Blane asked.

  “That’s a good question,” Heather said. “Are you sure Perses is clear?”

  Blane nodded and looked away from her for a moment.

  “Anjelika,” Blane said.

  “What about her?” Heather asked.

  “Remember Jill saying that her mom and dad . . . did it in the entry way when he returned,” Blane said. “I’d bet that’s why he’s so clear.”

  “You can be sure that Jake and Jill have done it many times since he got back,” Heather said.

  Blane looked disappointed.

  “It’s possible that Anjelika did something special to unclog him,” Heather said. “I promise to ask her when I see her next.”

  “Which is?”

  “Tomorrow,” Heather said. “She’s coming to see Noelle’s artwork. We saw Mike when I dropped off Valerie. He was on his way to the school to put the finishing touches to it. There’s a kind of ceremony tomorrow.”

  Blane looked relieved. He smiled at Heather.

  “It’s also possible that Perses doesn’t have anything for the amber to stick to,” Heather said.

  “How did you . . .?” Blane asked.

  “It’s true with everything,” Heather said. “Our issues bind the negative or dark to us. If we have a need for dark love, dark love will find us.”

  Blane’s mouth dropped open slightly, and he gawked at her.

  “What did I say?” she asked.

  “I just . . . It explains a lot of my life,” Blane said. “Just before meeting you, I’d decided that I didn’t need that kind of intensity anymore. Mike . . . Jake . . . We talked about it in Maine. Then wham, there you are.”

  “Me, too,” Heather nodded.

  For a moment, they just smiled at each other.

  “Gross,” Tink said as she entered the kitchen. “You guys are so . . . gross!”

  Blane winked at Heather, and she grinned at him.

  “Can I have some cake?” Tink asked as she lifted the dome over the cake.

  Before they could answer, she’d carefully set the dome on the counter. Blane took down a plate while she cut a piece for herself. He left to get the tablet from the living rom.

  “How was Charlie?” Heather asked.

  “Good, sort of,” Tink said. “He was pretty freaked about today, you know, like I was, you know. Sissy, too. She told me.”

  She stood next to the sink and ate her cake. Blane came back with the tablet and returned it to the charging station.

  “Thanks,” Tink said, looking up at them.

  “Thanks?” Heather asked.

  “For letting me talk to Charlie,” Tink said. “For going with me. For adopting me. For believing me. For . . . everything.”

  She looked down at the plate in her hand. Nodding, she finished her piece of cake.

  “Do you think the guy will go to hell?” Tink asked.

  Blane gave Heather a quick glance. Heather smiled and nodded that he could take care of this question.

  “We certainly would hope so,” Blane said.

  “Yeah, but if we really wanted to hurt him, we’d be like him,” Tink said with a nod. “That’s what Charlie always says.”

  “He’s right,” Blane said.

  “I know,” Tink said. “It’s just that, sometimes, I really want him to go to suffer for eternity.”

  “Seems like he is in a
kind of hell,” Heather said. “His skin burns if he doesn’t admit to what he’s done.”

  “Don’t you think that’s in his mind?” Blane asked.

  “You saw his skin this afternoon,” Heather said. “He’s gruesome to look at. All of that will leave scars.”

  “It is a very . . . mythic punishment,” Tink said.

  “His evil insides are now visible on the outside,” Blane said with a nod. “You’re right.”

  “Did you do it?” Tink asked.

  “Me?” Heather asked. “No. I don’t have that capacity.”

  Tink gave her a searching look. Heather gave her an impish shrug.

  “I’m glad, I guess,” Tink said. “I don’t think I would like it if you could curse someone like that.”

  “I don’t think I would like it, either!” Heather said. “Plus, knowing me, I’d probably screw it up completely.”

  Grinning, Tink acknowledged Heather’s clumsiness with a nod. Blane took a breath.

  “Time for bed,” Tink said, in imitation of Blane.

  “You have a big day tomorrow and Friday,” Blane said.

  Tink nodded. She rushed Blane and threw her arms around him. She gave him a hard kiss on the cheek and threw herself at Heather.

  “We love you,” Heather said.

  Tink was crying when she pressed back. Heather stroked her cheek. Tink hugged Heather again.

  “Come on,” Blane said. “I’ll tuck you in.”

  Blane put his arm around Tink, and they left the kitchen. Heather tidied up the kitchen. Blane came back into the kitchen while Heather was finishing loading the dishwasher.

  “So,” he started and then stopped.

  “So?” Heather asked as she squirted the detergent into the dishwasher detergent holder. She clicked it closed and stood up. “Yes?”

  “It is a punishment of mythic proportions,” Blane said. “Did you arrange to have it done?”

  “Let’s just say I didn’t get in the way of the person who did it,” Heather said.

  “Who . . .?” Almost at the same moment he asked, Blane held up his hands and lowered his head. “I don’t want to know.”

  Heather nodded. She closed and started the dishwasher.

  “I just . . .” Blane started again.

  “Yes?” Heather asked.

  “Why you?” Blane asked.