The Clearing Page 4

  Ashley turned to look at him. “Is that it, Mr. Green?”

  Dad sighed. He looked like he wanted to get up and run away. Like he wished he’d never started the conversation.

  “Girls, I’ll tell you everything I know, but you have to promise you won’t go running around town trying to find out more.”

  Hannah was nodding and saw Ashley doing the same.

  Dad got up and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He spun the chair back around the right way and sat down. Hannah couldn’t help but smile as a memory popped into her head.

  She was about five or six, and Dad was tucking her in for the night. She had begged him to read her one more story, but he’d looked at her sternly and told her he would most certainly not. Then he’d cracked a grin and said, “But I will tell you a story.” He had proceeded to invent a tale so silly that Mom had to come up and break up the fun.

  Something about the way he was getting ready to tell this story brought that memory back so vividly that Hannah’s eyes filled. She jumped to her feet to get a drink.

  “Dad, mind if Ash and I have Cokes?” Her voice was steady despite being overwhelmed with emotion.

  “Sure. Just as long as you promise not to operate any heavy machinery or do any parkour when you’re all drunk in the middle of the afternoon.”

  She handed the drinks out and caught Ashley looking at her with a strange smile. She knows, Hannah thought. Another example of their strong connection.

  “All right. Where do I begin?”

  “I inherited this house from my grandfather. He built it himself when he was just a young man, early twenties maybe.” He smiled. “I could never picture my grandfather young, building houses. He was so old and frail, even when I was just a kid visiting here.”

  Hannah had already heard this part of the story, but she listened intently anyway. Partly she let him ramble for Ashley’s benefit to get her up to speed. Mostly, she just loved to listen to Dad tell stories.

  “My parents used to bring me here every summer and I’d spend all my time in the woods, just like you. When I was about your age, I came here to live permanently.” He paused, looking out the kitchen window.

  “My parents were killed in a car accident, leaving me, an only child, with nowhere else to go. I spent my high school years in this very house before going off to college and meeting your mother. Shortly after we married, my grandfather passed away, leaving the farmhouse to me.

  “My grandfather used to sit out on the porch with me at night while he told me stories.” He looked at Hannah and smiled. “Man, I wish I’d paid more attention to them.”

  The pained expression on Dad’s face made her make a promise to always listen to his stories. She was well-schooled in regret and didn’t need any more lessons.

  “Grampie did a lot of odd jobs when he was younger. One story that stuck with me was from when he worked on a road crew. This was back in the fifties. The roads around here were still mostly dirt. Grampie’s crew was hired to work on Route 33.”

  “Wait,” Hannah interrupted. “You mean like where the shopping plaza is?”

  Dad smiled. “That’s the place. Hard to believe it hasn’t been there forever, right? Anyway, Grampie was just a gopher, doing whatever dirty work and odd jobs the more experienced crew didn’t want to do. The land the state bought to build the road apparently included some kind of commune.”

  This time Ashley interrupted. “You mean like hippies? I thought that wasn’t a thing until the sixties. Woodstock and sh—stuff.”

  Hannah shook her head at Ashley’s near miss.

  “The sixties was definitely when it became mainstream, thanks largely to the music. It started well before then. A guy named Gypsy Boots and a group of followers lived in the Tahquitz Canyon in California back in the forties. He later founded one of the first health food stores.” Dad shook his head, as if he realized he was going down a rabbit hole. “Anyway, the same thing was going on here. People were fed up with cities and looking for an alternative lifestyle. The term ‘hippies’ was coined in the sixties as well, but the people had been around for a while.”

  Ashley stood and started rummaging through the cabinets for snacks. “Keep going, Mr. Green.”

  Dad took another sip of his beer. “Grampie and a few other grunts were sent to clean up the commune. The people had moved on after a minor protest. There’s one thing New Hampshire has plenty of...”

  “Woods!” they all said together and laughed. It was an old joke between them.

  “Grampie said he was more than happy to take that detail. It was hot that summer and being in the shade of the forest was welcome over breaking rocks or hauling gear in the sun. They found the site of the commune easy enough and got to work. There wasn’t a lot to do, really, just clean-up work. The group had left behind some makeshift tents, some clothes, mostly a lot of trash.”

  Dad stopped and smiled. His eyes got a funny look; he was back in time listening to his grandfather telling the tale.

  “Grampie said they spent a whole day hauling trash bags out of the woods. The boss didn’t bother supervising the work and they were far enough off the actual work site to get away with a lot of goofing off. And the second day’s job was literally crap work; they had to take down a couple of outhouses and fill in the latrines. Nasty chore, he told me.

  “They got it done in the morning and spent the early afternoon hauling more trash out to the main site to be disposed of. There wasn’t much left to do when they got back to the commune. They spread out to search a little deeper into the woods to make sure they didn’t miss anything. The crew boss was a real pain in the butt, Grampie said, and they were just kids who didn’t want to listen to his lectures.”

  Dad’s face clouded. He looked from Ashley to Hannah, his jaw hanging open a bit.

  “Dad, what is it? Mom would have said you looked like someone walked over your grave.” Hannah’s lips tightened, hoping the mention of Mom wouldn’t send him into a downward spiral.

  “It’s... I just remembered something. The point I was getting to was that Grampie’s buddy found a clearing out in the woods, with some sort of stone altar.”

  Hannah shot Ash a look, trying to stay calm.

  “Wow, Mr. G, that’s pretty weird.” Ashley had dumped some salsa in a bowl and found a bag of Tostitos. She placed them on the table and sat down.

  She’s freaked out, Hannah thought.

  Dad still looked lost in the past, but Hannah waited, letting him work out what he was going to say. Finally, he did. She wished he hadn’t.

  “I haven’t thought about this next part of the story in forever. Grampie said he got lost in the woods after they split up. They’d all skipped lunch and it was hot. He wandered around for a while and eventually found his way back to the commune site. One of his buddies was already there—the other came staggering out of the trees much later. That last one told how he’d stumbled upon a clearing that was surrounded by brambles. He said he didn’t know what made him fight through them, ripping his clothes and getting cut up like he did. But in the middle, there was...”

  Hannah swallowed a sip of Coke to sooth her dry throat. She was scared. Not so much because of what Dad was saying, although it was creepy, but mostly because he was scared. She saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice.

  “This guy told Grampie it looked like an altar, a stone altar. There were all sorts of bones around it. They looked like birds and small animals. Hanging from the trees were these... figures... made from sticks twisted together.”

  “Like Blair Witch!” Ashley shouted, caught up in the story as well.

  Dad ignored her, his eyes still faraway like he was the one in the clearing.

  “There was an old leather-bound book on the altar, but he couldn’t read it. He said it looked like French. Then he saw bigger bones, and a human skull. He tore his way through the brambles and eventually found his way back to the commune site. At first Grampie laughed it off, but when they saw how scared the guy was, the
y agreed to go look. The guy couldn’t find his way back to it. They searched until dark but didn’t find the clearing.”

  Dad looked back and forth from Ash to Hannah. His eyes were wide, darting between them. He finished off his beer in a long, desperate gulp.

  “I think you girls should stay out of the woods, okay?”

  “What do you make of your dad’s story?” Ashley asked, her voice unusually soft.

  They were out in the backyard playing fetch with Scout. Hannah wanted to make sure they were out of Dad’s earshot.

  Hannah shrugged, taking the ratty old tennis ball from Scout and tossing it across the yard. “I don’t know what to think. Is it possible there’s been some weird cult around here for over fifty years?”

  It was Ashley’s turn to shrug. “I guess it’s possible, but they couldn’t have been sacrificing young girls all that time, right?”

  Scout dropped the ball at Hannah’s feet and cocked his head, waiting. She picked it up, grimacing at the drool, and tossed it. It rolled down the hilly part of the yard toward the edge of the woods.

  “Dad said there were bones. Maybe they started out with animals?” Hannah ventured.

  Ashley nodded. “Yeah, like they were warming up, like those serial killers, you know? They start out pulling the wings off flies when they’re little. Then burning spiders under a magnifying glass. Then it’s the neighborhood pets. Next thing you know... people.”

  Hannah stared at Ashley. Where does she get this stuff? Both girls liked their share of horror movies, but this was a little over the top. “Have you been watching those weird documentaries again?” She held up her hand. “Never mind, I think we both need to hit up the library again. One of us can research the group of hippies and see if there was anything in the papers about them. The other can scan for stories about missing girls. Not just from Hopeland but the surrounding towns as well, going back as far as we can.”

  Ashley was bouncing on her toes, back into the adventure. “And maybe back then, more kids just ran away when they got older and people just shrugged it off. But maybe they weren’t all running away...”

  Hannah scanned the yard. “Where’s Scout?”

  Ashley looked to where the ball was thrown. “I don’t know. Maybe he caught a whiff of a rabbit and ran into the woods.”

  Hannah stared off into the trees and started walking slowly in that direction. She wanted to call for the dog, but something stopped her. Instead, she continued surveying the tree line, making her way to the edge of the yard.

  “Hannah, what’s wrong?”

  Ashley had picked up on her concern, doing the mind meld thing.

  “I don’t know,” Hannah whispered. “Do you hear how quiet it got suddenly?”

  All the normal sounds of the forest, crickets, cicadas, even the birds, had gone silent. Ashley nodded.

  At the end of the lawn they stopped. The next few steps would take them into the trees. Hannah felt something, an ominous presence in the air, the way you felt the electricity before a thunderstorm. Worse, she felt someone watching them. She stared into the trees, wondering just how close Mama Bayole’s property was if you went straight through the woods.

  “There’s someone in the woods.” Her voice came out gravelly. Her throat was closing.

  “Let’s get your dad,” Ashley said, her head moving back and forth, searching.

  Ashley grabbed Hannah’s arm to pull her back toward the house. A rustle in the underbrush stopped them both. They remained still as the movement in the bushes grew closer. Closer and closer.

  Scout bounded out of the bush and they screamed in unison before bursting into nervous laughter.

  “Come on. Let’s go see what’s for dinner.” Hannah’s voice was shaky, and she almost heard her heart beating.

  They headed toward the house, but she turned to stare once again into the trees. Something still felt wrong. Then the sounds of nature picked up and the air returned to normal, like a release of pressure. Hannah let out a sigh and ran to catch up to Ashley.

  “Hey, Hannah, can I ask you something?”

  Hannah smirked. It was so Ashley-like to just move on from a weird experience right to the next thing.

  “Sure, but I’m warning you, if it’s about any of the boys at school you think I should be dating, I’m not going to answer.”

  Ashley looked at her, eyes narrowed, lips a tight line between her cheeks. Her expression was a rare one of seriousness.

  “What’s up with your dad? He seems different, almost funny again.” Ashley raised an eyebrow.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Hannah asked, head cocked.

  “No, I mean, of course not. It’s just, like, suddenly, he’s getting back to normal. I’m happy for him, and for you.”

  Hannah stopped walking and swallowed. Ashley and Hannah were close and told each other everything, but this was such a personal subject, such a hard thing to talk about. Instinctively, she reached out and gave Ash a hug, her eyes welling.

  “Thanks, Ash. It really is a good thing, right? I’ve missed him. Mom, too. It’s harder missing someone when they’re right there... but they’re not.”

  They walked toward the house.

  “Yeah, I get it, Hannah. I was thinking more along the lines of does he have a girlfriend?” Ash’s expression was far from serious. She took off at a run, laughing and screaming. Hannah gave chase, laughing along with her. They crashed into the kitchen, breathless.

  “What kind of shenanigans have you two been getting into?” Dad asked with a grin.

  He was in front of the stove cooking up scrambled eggs and home fries. Breakfast for dinner was a favorite of Hannah’s.

  “Oh, we just met a couple of boys from school, told dirty jokes, made plans to meet up after you fall asleep. The usual.”

  Dad didn’t miss a beat with his cooking. “Dirty jokes like the one about the four white horses that fell in the mud?”

  “Wow, Mr. Green, you’re so hip.” Ashley’s voice dripped with sarcasm and they all laughed.

  “Seriously, Dad, we were just playing with Scout. We didn’t leave the yard, I promise.”

  Dad filled three plates on the counter with food.

  “That’s good. I was getting ready to call Special Forces to look for you. Come on, let’s strap on the feedbag, as the cool kids say.”

  Ashley snorted a laugh and dug into her eggs. “I think you might want to look up the definition of cool before you get yourself in too deep with the nerd herd, Mr. Green.”

  Hannah sat on the couch watching television while Dad read in the recliner across from her. She couldn’t concentrate on whatever silly sitcom was on—instead she watched him. The book he was reading was something about the lost colony of Roanoke. He looked up suddenly, sensing her stare, and smiled.

  “What’s up, Hannah?”

  She looked away, face burning. Since talking with Ash, first about Mom the other night, then Dad earlier, she’d wanted to bring up the subject of Mom with him. She needed to find out what had really happened, but was afraid. What if it sent him back into a depression?

  “Come on, Hannah, what’s bothering you?” His voice was gentle, filled with concern.

  Hannah looked up, sneaky tears spilling from her eyes. Dad stood and moved next to her on the couch, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

  “I just... It’s...”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shakily.

  “I need to know what happened to Mom,” she blurted, the words coming rapid fire, before she could chicken out.

  Dad’s arm tensed across her shoulders, then relaxed as he let out a sigh.

  “I knew this conversation was coming someday. I guess tonight’s as good a time as any.”

  “Dad, if you don’t want to—can’t go there.”

  Dad stood and started pacing.

  “No, you deserve to know. At least to know as much as I do. I loved your mom, Hannah. I guess I still do. When we first met, I couldn’t believe she went out
with me. Then when we got serious and I asked her to marry me...”

  He stopped pacing and stared out the window. When he started speaking again, his voice was thick with emotion.

  “I was the luckiest man alive. She was so beautiful. On our wedding day, she was a vision... You’ve seen the pictures.”

  He turned and smiled at Hannah, but tears ran down his cheeks. “You look so much like her.”

  He took a deep breath and wiped his face.

  “Things were great between us. All our friends teased us, told us we were the perfect couple. Then we had you, and things couldn’t have been better. We were a real family. The teasing grew with us. We weren’t the perfect couple anymore—we were the perfect family. Mom used to love dressing you up, showing you off. Not in a weird beauty-pageant way, but out of pride. Love.”

  Hannah smiled. She had gone through the photo albums a million times since Mom had left. At first just to remember, later desperately looking for clues, something hidden in one of the pictures that would explain why she’d run away.

  “After she lost the baby, everything changed.”

  Hannah gasped. She didn’t remember Mom being pregnant.

  Was it when I was too young to remember?

  “I know, we never told you. I’m sorry for that. We both thought you were too young. Then when she started changing, we drifted apart.”

  “Oh, Dad, I’m sorry.”

  He made a sound she couldn’t make out. Part laugh, part anguish.

  “Why would you apologize, honey? You were so young, so fragile. You couldn’t have known. She was only a couple of months along...”

  A memory seeped into Hannah’s head. Coming home from school in tears after being picked on for something. Dad was home from work. He was never home that early. Mom had to go stay with her sister to help with the twins while Uncle Frank was away on business. The next day she came home from school and Mom was in bed. She’s just tired, Dad had said. The twins had run her ragged...