The group of searchers huddled together, half-finished plates of food in their hands, and mumbled to one another. I heard Selene’s name once or twice, but their voices dropped even lower into whispers. Men shook their heads. They looked worried. Frightened, even. A couple of them made excuses and left the house. I heard a car start, saw its headlights, watched its taillights as it sped away.
“What’s wrong?” Dad asked Mr. O’Neill. “Why are they leaving?”
“It’s the girl,” he said slowly, as if answering the question embarrassed him. “They’re saying that Old Auntie’s got your daughter, and there’s no use looking for her.”
While Dad stood there, flabbergasted, the last three men thanked us for the food and drink and edged out the back door. In the yard, engines revved, headlights lit the field, and in a couple of minutes the search party was gone.
Mr. O’Neill turned to his wife. “Maybe you should get the girl, bring her down, let Ted see for himself.”
Mrs. O’Neill started up the back stairs, and I followed her. Stopping at my closed door, she tapped gently. “So as not to startle her,” she whispered.
When no one answered, she opened the door and peeked inside. The window was wide open, and the curtains blew like streamers in the cold air.
Mrs. O’Neill ran to the window and looked out into the night. All that moved were the shadows of trees tossed by the wind.
“She must have gone back to the cabin,” I said. “Someone should go after her.”
Mrs. O’Neill shook her head. “There’s not a man from these parts who’ll go near that cabin at night.”
“Not even the police?”
“Every one of them grew up here. They’ve heard stories all their lives about Old Auntie. Most of them swear they’ve seen her and Bloody Bones in the woods or alongside a dark road.”
I watched Mrs. O’Neill hurry down the back stairs, and then I took a quick look around my room. A sweater and pair of jeans I’d left on a chair were gone, and so were my old running shoes. I tiptoed across the hall and checked Mom’s room. Little Erica was gone too.
I went to the top of the back stairs and listened. Mom was crying, and Dad was calling the state troopers. “Surely they don’t believe in this superstitious nonsense,” I heard him say.
Mr. and Mrs. O’Neill were talking in low voices. It sounded as if they were cleaning up the kitchen.
Taking care to make no noise, I crept down the front stairs, grabbed my parka and hat from the coatrack by the door, and slipped quietly outside. For a second, I hesitated. What if I got lost? I needed someone to come with me, someone who knew the way.
Brody had refused to go near the cabin in broad daylight, but maybe I could talk him into going to the top of the trail with me—it was a long shot, but who else could I ask?
Thirteen
By the time I was in sight of Brody’s ramshackle old house, I heard a dog bark, then another. In the dim light of the half-moon I saw three or four of them coming down the driveway toward me. What should I do? If I ran, they’d chase me. Maybe if I stood still, they’d just sniff me and leave me alone. They looked like hounds of some kind, not very big, hopefully not very fierce, either.
They stopped about two feet away and kept barking. A light on the front porch came on, and the front door opened.
“Brody!” I yelled. “It’s me, Daniel! Call off the dogs.”
A gruff male voice called, “You the boy from the Estes farm?”
“Yes, sir.” The dogs surrounded me, sniffing and muttering to one another in dog language.
The man whistled, and the dogs ran up the drive toward the house. “Come on,” he called to me. “They won’t hurt you.”
Keeping an eye on the dogs just in case he was wrong, I climbed the porch steps.
“I saw you at the house,” he said. “I was in the search party. I’m sorry we didn’t find your little sister. We done our best, but—” Shaking his head, he called Brody. “The boy from the Estes farm is here. He wants to see you.”
Brody came to the door. “What you want?”
“Can I talk to you about something?” I shot a quick look at his dad, hoping Brody would get the message that this was just between him and me.
“If it’s about your sister, I already told you what I think.”
“Well, it’s actually about Selene.”
“Selene?” Mr. Mason leaned closer. I smelled beer and cigarette smoke on his breath. “It’s really her, then?”
“The O’Neills think so.”
“Where’s she now?” Brody asked.
I gave up on trying to keep things between him and me. “I don’t know. She ran away.”
“Went back to the cabin, I reckon,” Mr. Mason said.
“That’s what I think.” I looked at Brody. “Maybe Erica’s there, too. Will you go up there with me?”
Mr. Mason put a hand on my shoulder. “You go on home, boy. Ain’t a soul in this valley will go there with you. Certainly not my boy.”
“She’s my sister,” I said. “I have to get her back.”
Brody shook his head. “How you think you’ll do that? Just knock on the door and say, ‘Please, Miss Auntie, give me my sister’?”
Mr. Mason sighed. “Do like I said, boy. Go home. There’s nothing you nor me nor anyone else can do for your sister.”
“But—”
Mr. Mason stopped me. “Go home. Before you freeze to death.”
I left them standing on the porch, watching me, as if to make sure I went home. I walked off in the right direction, but once I reached the end of their driveway, I headed into the woods.
I hadn’t gone far when I heard a noise behind me, as if something was following me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw nothing. If I ran, whatever it was would chase me. So I kept walking and hoped it was a fox.
“Wait up, Daniel.” Brody ran toward me. He had one of the dogs with him. “You’re going up there, ain’t you?”
“Are you coming with me?”
“Not me, but I brought Bella. Don’t know if she’ll protect you, but if you get lost, she’ll bring you home.” He held out the dog’s leash, and I took it.
“She’s a good old dog.” Brody bent down to scratch behind Bella’s ears. “Part beagle, part fox hound, part something bigger—just a mutt, really, but smart as all get-out. You tell her ‘home’ and she’ll lead you there.”
“Thanks.” I patted Bella, and she wagged her tail. She had a pointed nose, a sharp face, and perked-up ears. Her fur was white with dark patches, and her legs were long. She was sleek and slim, and I could tell by her eyes that she was smart, like Brody said.
“You be careful.” Brody stepped back, and I didn’t know if he was talking to the dog or to me. “I got to get back before Dad misses me or Bella. He says you’re crazy to even think about going near Old Auntie’s cabin, but being you’re a stranger here, he reckons you’re just plain ignorant.”
Brody backed away into the woods. “Good luck.” With that, he was gone into the night as quickly as he’d come.
Bella looked after him and whined, but she seemed to know she was supposed to stay with me. “Come on, girl,” I said, and she darted ahead, as if to lead the way.
I watched her prance along and wished she were mine. It comforted me to think of coming home with Erica and then getting into bed with Bella curled up beside me.
But Bella wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t sure I’d bring Erica home or even come home myself.
I followed the dog up the trail. Every now and then an owl hooted, sometimes close by, sometimes far away. Once in a while Bella stopped and looked into the woods, as if she saw things invisible to me. She growled or whined, glanced back at me, then went on. She never tugged at the leash but kept a steady pace. She’d been on this path before, I thought, probably hunting raccoons or something.
As the trail grew steeper, Bella paused more often, her body tense. She walked slower, dropping back until she was almost by my side. The wind blew
harder up there, and the moon slid in and out from the clouds, sometimes lighting the path, sometimes casting it into darkness. I shivered; my teeth chattered—not just because I was cold, which I was, but also because we’d reached the drop-off.
Bella pressed against my side, and I felt her body tremble. “Careful, girl,” I whispered. “We’re right on the edge of the trail.”
From where I stood, I looked down, way down into the valley, which was awash with moonlight. One misstep, and you’d be over the side of the hill, falling, falling, falling to certain death on the rocks below.
Staying as far away from the edge as possible, I forced myself to keep climbing. Finally we reached the top. The hollow lay in shadows, darker than anywhere else, as black as an underground cavern.
Suddenly Bella stiffened and moved forward, ears erect, body tense, growling softly. Something moved in the hollow below us.
Bella’s growl turned to a whine, and she pressed against me as if she were frightened.
For a second, I hoped I’d found Erica, but instead Selene stepped out of the cabin’s shadow, more woebegone than ever.
Bella whined and looked up at me. “It’s okay,” I whispered to the dog.
Selene stayed where she was. “Will that dog bite me?”
I shook my head. “She’s a good dog. Her name’s Bella.”
As Selene came closer, Bella made no effort to greet her. If anything, she pressed closer to me. She was still trembling.
Selene looked at the dog. “She don’t like me,” she said sadly.
I wasn’t interested in how Bella felt about Selene. All I wanted was to find my sister. “You said the cabin would look like it did when you lived here.”
“It does,” Selene said. “Can’t you see the light in the window?”
I peered into the blackness. “There’s nothing there,” I said.
She pointed. “Right there. And smoke’s coming from the chimney. Your sister’s in there. I seen her through the window, but I can’t get in.”
I stared into the darkness until my eyeballs ached, but I couldn’t see anything. “Are you telling the truth or play-acting?”
“I’m telling you the honest-to-God truth. She’s setting by the fire, stirring the pot like I used to. Only she’s not doing it right, and Auntie will give her a walloping when she comes home.”
“She’ll beat my sister?”
“That’s what she does if you don’t do things right—she wallops you. I used to get bruises all over me till I learned.”
Nobody was going to hurt my sister. If she was in that cabin, I’d break the door down and rescue her. With Bella and Selene behind me, I plunged downhill into the hollow, scrambling and slipping on loose stones. But all I saw were the same ruins I’d always seen.
Bella hung back, as if she knew something was in the ruins, but Selene ran to one of the few standing walls and looked through a broken window.
“There she be, your sister, just like I said. I don’t see my auntie, though. She must be out in the woods.”
I watched Selene struggle to open the sagging door. “Let me in, girl!” She pounded on the wood with her fists. “Let me in!”
I pulled her away. “There’s nothing here. You’re imagining it.”
Bella whined and danced around me, but I was too busy with Selene to pay any attention to the dog. Finally the dog grabbed my parka. Frantic with fear, she tugged and growled through her clenched teeth and did her best to drag me away from the cabin’s ruins.
In the struggle, I lost my grip on Selene, and she ran into the woods, calling for Auntie.
Even with the girl gone, Bella wouldn’t let go of my parka. She continued to whine and growl and pull me toward the trail.
Freeing myself from Bella, I chased Selene. The dog darted in front of me and blocked my way. I dodged and shouted Selene’s name until I was hoarse. She was gone. I’d lost her, just as I’d lost Erica.
At least that’s what I thought, until Bella cowered beside me. The woods were very still. The wind stopped. The moon hid behind the clouds.
Coming toward us was Selene. An old woman walked beside her. She leaned on a staff and carried a bundle. Her long skirt was the color of the winter sky on a starless night, her shawl as black as midnight. Long strands of white hair blew about her head. Shadows hid her face.
I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move. Neither could Bella. We were frozen, paralyzed, under a spell. We could do nothing but watch the two of them approach. Old Auntie shoved Selene toward me. “I brung her back. She ain’t mine no more. Take her home and keep her there, boy. She’s your sister now. The girl in the cabin is my girl. Look for her in fifty years if you want her back.”
“No, Auntie,” Selene cried. “Ain’t I worked hard all my life for you? Give her back and let me stay with you. I’ll work hard, I’ll do better, I promise you.”
Selene tried to embrace Old Auntie, but the old woman pushed her away. The girl sprawled on the ground at my feet. Bella sniffed her and whimpered.
“Now, you go on and get out of here,” Old Auntie told her. “Don’t let me see you no more. Don’t come looking for me. Stay away from my cabin. You hear me?”
Selene lay on the ground, a pathetic little creature. Her body shook with sobs.
“If you come begging at my door again, I’ll send my boy after you.” Old Auntie spit on the ground. “You know what he can do, Girl. He’ll make you sorry. And that’s the truth.”
Selene shuddered and peered into the darkness. “Is he close by?” she whispered.
“Bloody Bones can be here or he can be far, but I reckon he’s close enough to come if I whistle.” She leaned down to peer into Selene’s face. “You want me to fetch him?”
“No, no, Auntie, don’t whistle for him,” Selene begged. “I’ll go away and I won’t come back no more.” While she spoke, she stared about wild-eyed, searching the darkest shadows, as if Bloody Bones might be hiding behind a tree or a bush or a rock.
The moon came out then and shone full on Auntie’s face. Her eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, her skin stretched tight across her skull. A few yellow teeth sat crooked in her lipless mouth and her nose was no more than sharp bone. She looked like she should be in her grave, not here in the woods.
She screeched with laughter and stuck her face so close to mine that I could smell her breath, rotten with decay. “Why, boy, I believe you ain’t never seen the likes of me afore.”
I backed away, stumbled over Bella, and fell flat. The dog whined and cowered beside me. Behind the old conjure woman, I saw something move in the woods, snapping branches under its feet, snuffling, rooting in the dead leaves.
Auntie laughed again, a wild whoop this time that echoed from tree to tree and bounced off rocks. “He’s here,” she hissed to Selene. “Old Bloody Bones hisself. Get yourselves away from here afore I send him after you both—and the dog, too.”
In a swirl of skirt and shawl, Auntie turned her back and strode away. The wind picked up, the woods stirred. She was gone.
But instead of following her, Bloody Bones stepped out of the woods and into the moonlight. His head was a hog’s skull, the rest of him bones. Taller than my father, he walked toward us on two feet. His ragged overalls fluttered about him as he raised his arms to show us the bear claws. Then he grinned to show us the panther’s teeth. As he moved slowly toward us, a whistle sounded in the trees. His head swung toward the sound, and he snorted.
“Come to me, dear boy,” Old Auntie called from somewhere in the woods. “Let them go for now, but if they come back, eat them.”
With a grunt of disappointment, Bloody Bones turned away and lumbered into the dark.
Bella threw back her head and howled, the eeriest sound I’d ever heard a dog make. Turning to Selene, who still lay on the ground sobbing, the dog sniffed her cautiously, going over every inch of her, as if reading the fine print in a contract. Then, looking up at me, she licked the girl’s cheek.
My heart pounded and my
knees shook with fear, but I leaned over Selene. “You heard what she said,” I told her. “We have to get out of here.”
With Bella leading the way, Selene stumbled silently beside me, keeping a tight grip on the doll. When we got to the hollow, she looked at me. “I can’t see the cabin no more,” she said. “The lights are out and the chimney smoke’s gone.”
She ran to the broken window and peered inside. She seemed to see what I saw—a ruined cabin rotting away in the woods, full of shadows, dark and abandoned.
“Come on.” I held out my hand. “There’s nothing here for you or me now.”
In Auntie’s Cabin Again
The old woman comes into the cabin and slams the door behind her. Her shadow rises up and rolls across the room before her. She’s so angry, she slaps the girl across the face, hard enough to knock her out of the chair where she’s been sleeping.
The girl cringes on the floor, covering her face with her hands. “Don’t hit me no more, Auntie,” she begs. “I ain’t been sleeping long.”
But the old woman picks up her stick and whacks the girl on the back. “Look there—you done let the fire go out! Cain’t I trust you to do nothing right?”
The girl scrambles to her feet and tries to light the fire, but she’s fumble-fingered with fear. Any minute Auntie will hit her again.
“Get out of my way.” The old woman shoves the girl aside and squats to light the fire. She hears Selene crying outside, hears the boy dragging her away.
“Your brother come here to get you,” she tells the girl. “But me and my dear boy chased him off. Don’t make no difference. He’s got hisself another sister now.”
The girl stares at her, blank eyed. She doesn’t have a brother. She’s Auntie’s girl. She’s been here all her life. Just her and Auntie. Nobody else. Nobody except—except—her eyes go to the window. The pale face of Auntie’s dear boy peers in at her. He grins and shows her his sharp teeth. But he’s not her brother. Or is he? She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know anything.
The old woman sinks into her rocking chair and laughs at the girl’s mystified face. “You ain’t got no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” She feels like hitting her again. Or kicking her. Or throwing something at her. But she’s tired from walking in the woods.