Chapter Twenty–One
Joshua studied each page of Alice’s book, Colbie and Anna staying quiet, letting him learn as they did.
He came to ‘the vessel, then the rough sketch of ‘the seed.’ Half-man, half-bear.
“Max was handsome when he was young,” Colbie said. “I imagined him young when he would touch me...”
Joshua did not answer; he turned another page. “This isn’t the grimoire. It’s like a scrapbook. A picture of Davey. My mom. So what?”
“Josh?” Anna asked. “Are you listening to Colbie?”
“Yes, I am.” Joshua kept going from page to page. “Whose plan was it, Colbie?”
“Brenda’s. She couldn’t have kids. Max decided to comply as long as my grandparents never found out. But they did.”
“How did you find out, Anna?”
“I knew you never touched Colbie. But you were very angry. Just one more thing to be upset about.”
Joshua slammed the book shut between his hands. “”I’m going to see Alice.”
“I’ll stay here,” Colbie said.
“What did Dad and Brenda offer you?”
“A way out of Fruit Ridge. College money. Max and I were only together twice—“
Josh held up his hand. “Fine. We can talk about it later.”
The neglected fields of Alice’s farm were covered in snow. Joshua had been silent as Anna drove, his mind trying to absorb every fact.
“What are you remembering?” she asked.
“A bad feeling. Like something crawling under my skin.”
“Probably from what Colbie told you.”
“I never touched her?”
“Not that I know of. But you didn’t always confide in me. Maybe she thought having a baby for Max and Brenda would keep her close to you.”
“I wonder why Dad kept stressing the need to protect me before the baby was born. What would happen?”
“Maybe it has more to do with the baby than you.”
Anna was not looking forward to seeing Alice. The accident with the Jeep took place on this dirt road, Joshua walking away without a scratch.
Can Colbie and I take credit for it? she thought. He already knew about Max and Colbie, but something else had disturbed him enough to go tearing out in his Jeep, a shotgun in the backseat. Max hid the gun after the accident, the police never knew about Joshua smashing into that tree.
Anna passed the old oak, snow hanging heavy on the bare branches. A large hunk of bark was missing from the trunk. She pulled over.
“What?” he asked.
“Before we see Alice, I have to tell you about your accident. You don’t remember the Jeep at all, right?”
“I didn’t know that I took driver’s ed.”
“You did. Twice.”
“I was a real screw-up, huh?”
“You thought everybody hated you. We went to school with kids whose parents and grandparents were Max’s tenants. He owned their property, so there was some resentment. You learned to fight back, but your talent made them afraid of you, well before Mrs. Hollander died. A few kids had seizures or choked around you.”
“Didn’t I feel any guilt?”
“I don’t know. I was just coming into my own talent. We became friends after I was hired at the plant. You started teaching me what you knew. But something happened before you were expelled. You had become more angry; like a volcano, ready to erupt.”
“What does this have to do with the accident?”
“We had an argument that night. Colbie had never tried to convince you that you were the father of her baby. I think Max and Brenda had already come to her with their offer. But you weren’t really mad about it, just like now. You felt sorry for Colbie. You had found out that Brenda wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get pregnant. Your mother had the same problem. She was infertile and I think she was hoping Harvester could help her.”
“Mom became pregnant for me somehow.”
“No. She didn’t.”
“What?”
“They all knew,” Anna said. “You said you felt cheated. You were angry at your parents for not telling you. But also because your adoption wasn’t...normal.”
“What?”
“They all loved you, Josh. You were special. Elizabeth saved your life, but Rebecca found you.”
The pain in his head and stomach was returning. “I came out here to talk to Alice that night because...I found out I was adopted.”
“You told me where you were going, but I was too scared to go with you. I called your house after you left, but Colbie answered. She said you were pissed off after arguing with your dad. She and I started talking. I picked her up, going back to my place. We tried to put together a protection spell. We called on Harvester. The black candle lit itself. We had his attention. We begged him to protect you, using my blood. Colbie was pushed against the wall. She went into the air and landed on the couch. Harvester came for me. I was pulled up by the hair, off the floor. I almost screamed. Colbie was crying.
I felt him inside me. I think I passed out. I woke up on the floor, Colbie standing over me. I was fully dressed, Josh. But I found the blood later.”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Anna. But why did you and Colbie—“
“You had taken a shotgun with you. You said you were going to kill all of them, beginning with Alice, then Ruth. You were like a little boy, crying and angry. When I found out about the accident, I knew Harvester had helped you, because the Jeep was trashed, the windshield almost gone, but you weren’t even scratched. I had Harvester’s favor. I would need it later.”
“Are you sure you have his favor?”
“He saved you from the accident.”
“He raped you.”
“I was a virgin. He wanted my energy.”
“Why did he want a boy?”
“Alice will know.”
Another vehicle, headlights on, cruised up the dirt road from behind. When the old truck reached them, it stopped. The window came down, and Anna recognized Alice White’s scowling face, framed by a thick scarf wrapped around her head.
Alice backed her truck up and kept going. She changed gears and did a U-turn in the thick snow, heading for the main road.
“Should we follow her?” Anna asked.
“No. Let’s go to my old house. The basement. If I can get in there, I won’t have to talk to her.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. I’m not sure of anything. But no one can stop me.”
The padlock was off the door.
“Who took the lock off?” Anna asked.
Joshua shook his head. He tried the knob, but it was still locked. He swung the hammer, smashing the window. He pushed the glass back with his gloved hand. He reached in, unlocking the old door from the inside. “I should have done this months ago.”
The fire had burned through the upstairs flooring, the remains covered from the outside with heavy plastic tarps, smothered in ice and snow.
The spacious area still contained the furnace and hot water heater, rotting carpet on the floor. Joshua saw another door ahead of him, but he also took in the beige wallpaper on the wall to his right. He brushed his gloved fingers against it. The paper had turned yellow, burnt at the edges. He saw a piece hanging down. He grabbed at it, tearing the strip from the wall, bringing the dust and time with him.
“They used to do their rites down there...”
The basement was his mother’s space; her circle came here, they worshipped Harvester. He shuddered at the thought of what they did to make the drought end. Blood sacrifices. They needed a boy.
Joshua took in a fleeting image of what was behind the paper.
The chariot.
He saw a strip of memory. Liz was painting the mural. She hummed a song then giggled with him. His image was painted on the wall, close to the floor. All of the women had been painted. She had turned on a radio. She was humming a popular song,”I know what you’re doing, baby. I know why you dial my number...?
??
Her cool hand had touched his arm. “Harvester comes in a chariot. He lived during a time when people only had chariots and horses. Harvester has lived almost forever. He can be whatever he wants.”
Joshua pointed at another image. “That’s Grandma.”
Liz nodded. The tall woman, hair prematurely white. She was wearing a white gown, her arms in the air. “Yes. Grandma Rebecca.”
He saw Ruth, Bonnie, Marilyn, Lois, even Alice. They were no longer a circle of five, but seven.
The sacrifice was over.
“Help me, Anna.”
They both started to tear at the wallpaper. The images he remembered came into view in the daylight. Anna was startled by the life-size rendition of Joshua, at three years old, on the wall. Liz had caught his eyes and the soft planes of his face. A hanging garden, buds and blooms fat with fertility, green with health. The chariot looked like something out of a movie; painted gold, a pentagram on the front. A black horse. Inside the chariot, a figure with three faces, a blond child next to him, wearing a white robe.
Anna studied the three faces. Harvester. The same energy that brought the rain, tearing into her body. She looked away, but not before she saw the five swords.
“Harvester needed a boy,” Joshua said.
“Oh, no...”
“Five of them have a sword painted over their heads. Five went through with it, but one witnessed it.”
“Do you remember being there?”
“No. But I do remember Dad telling her to cover this up. He didn’t want any other people, aside from her circle, knowing about what happened. He wanted her to ‘tone it down.’ But Mom said he had no right, that he should be grateful to Harvester. Loud argument...”
“Was he jealous?”
“I think he felt guilty.”
Joshua left the wall, heading for the other room. He put his hand over the doorknob. The crack his memory created was opening wider; however, he did not hesitate, and turned the knob, the metal worn with time, hard and cold in his hand.
Before he took in the room, he saw Davey. A memory of the boy. Davey hugged him in this room. The walls were unfinished, the sheetrock was their easel. Both boys drew trees and houses.
I wasn’t supposed to see any of it. The five swords on the blanket...
Joshua shook his head hard, but the nausea creeped up, getting a hold on him. He bent over and threw up on the floor.
Anna came up behind him, placing her hand on his back. “What do you remember?”
He pushed her hand away. “You already know. About Davey.”
“He was sick.”
“But that didn’t stop Harvester from accepting him as a sacrifice. That poor kid. They must have gone crazy.”
“They killed him?”
“You must have figured it out.”
She sighed. “I didn’t want to believe it. I thought you were joking when you told me. But you didn’t say you saw it or any of the circle were involved.”
Joshua stood up, his head still swimming. “Where did you put my witch box?”