The Clearing Read online

  That’s the person that was just in the ladies’ room.

  The day was blistering hot, the sun beating down on her from a cloudless blue sky. Still, she shivered.

  Later that afternoon, Ashley sat across from Hannah at the edge of the backyard sharing the results of their day. Ashley’s research had been just as productive as her own. Her friend quickly recapped her day at the West Meadow Library.

  “I still don’t know his or her real name, or if the person is young or old. I’m gonna say he for the sake of discussion.” Ashley paused, gathering her thoughts, searching for the right words. “He seemed really scared at the beginning, and only a little less scared at the end. We’re meeting tomorrow, back at the library. I have no idea where he is coming from. Oh! The domain registration lists New Hampshire, so I assume he’s not far.”

  Ashley’s eyes were wide as she spoke, her words tumbling out with reckless abandon. It wasn’t her usual dramatic storytelling. She was clearly too excited for any drama.

  “He said for me to sit at a big table in the center of the library with my back to the entrance. He would decide when he gets there if he wants to talk or not.”

  Hannah sighed, massaging her temples. It seemed way over-the-top, some half-assed spy shit. Unless this is more dangerous than we think.

  “I don’t know, Ash. It doesn’t sound safe. Meeting a complete stranger by yourself?”

  Ashley shrugged. “I’ll be in the middle of the library in the middle of West Meadow in the middle of the day. What could go wrong?”

  She flashed one of her grins, but it didn’t hold the confidence an Ashley grin usually did. Still, Hannah knew Ash was probably right but couldn’t help worrying. The thought of that car...

  “Hey, did anything weird happen while you were out?” she asked.

  Ash snapped her gum and stared at her for a minute before answering. Her grin had slipped, replaced with a dark look, something close to fear. She recovered quickly.

  “What did you do, call the psychic hotline or something? I was getting to that. Saving the best for last, you know?”

  It was Hannah’s turn to stare. If something similar had happened to Ashley that meant the car that had driven by had not been just some random creepo checking her out—it had something to do with the commune and the foot Scout had found. It meant someone, or likely more than one someone, was watching them.

  “Go ahead, Ash, spill it.”

  Ashley looked at Hannah, an oddly concerned expression on her face. Hannah realized her words had come out sounding helpless and full of dread. Ashley’s eyes widened again as she switched to storytelling mode. She relayed what had happened in the restroom, then stood and stretched. There was grass stuck to her shorts and her hair was a mess from bike-riding.

  Hannah leaned back so she was lying flat on the grass, staring at the sky. The day had remained perfect, the kind of day you took for granted in the summer but longed for in the short, dark days of winter. The smell of earth and grass and pine filled her with an odd sense of nostalgia. For what, she didn’t know. Maybe just the recent past before this mystery started. Had she really been bored a few days ago?

  “Maybe someone came in to brush their hair or fix their makeup?” Hannah said finally, her voice overly hopeful.

  “I thought about that.” Ashley said hastily. “Before I ran outside, I scoped out the bathroom, trying to... I don’t know, recreate someone walking in? The sinks and mirrors are just inside the door. The stalls are all the way across the bathroom. The person took way too many steps to go to the mirrors, but never made it to the stalls. The only trash barrel is right next to the door, too.” Ashley shivered.

  Hannah looked up at her friend. Ashley was backlit by the sinking sun, but her face was clearly visible. She didn’t like what she saw. Ash’s face was lined with worry, brows furrowed, lips tight. It made her look older, frailer.

  “I think whoever it was walked over to the stalls and bent down to see where I was. I don’t have any way to prove it, I just feel it. They never got close enough for me to see their shoes or anything, but I’m sure that’s what they did.”

  She plopped back down on the grass. Hannah was relieved; she didn’t want to see that expression on her friend’s face anymore.

  She finished the story, telling Hannah how she ran out of the library thinking Hannah’s bike was getting stolen. And about the car.

  Hannah sat up. There was no way this was a coincidence. Somebody was following them, watching them both. She told Ashley what had happened on the way to the phone booth.

  “What did the car look like?” Ashley asked, head cocked.

  Hannah described the car—silver-gray with tinted windows and fat tires, like on the old muscle cars you see in the movies. Ashley’s eyes widened and Hannah knew it was the same vehicle.

  “Did you see who was driving?”

  Hannah shook her head and recounted the conversation with Jacob to get Ashley up to speed.

  “That’s it, Ashley. Time for us to get out of this. Something is going on and it’s way too dangerous for us to be playing detective anymore.”

  Ash’s face fell. She was devastated.

  “Come on, Hannah, we’re close to figuring this out.”

  Hannah wasn’t used to the whine in her friend’s voice. “No way, this is serious. People are missing. Dead. We’re being followed, watched. This is too much. We’re in over our heads.”

  Ashley stood again and walked to the stand of pines that marked the beginning of the woods. She used the trunk of a tree to lean on, her head hanging down. She looked like she had just run a race and was trying to catch her breath—either that or she was trying to push the tree over. After a moment, she turned and walked back, rubbing her hands together. Hannah smiled, knowing they were now sticky with sap.

  “One more day,” she said calmly. “I’ll meet the mysterious blogger at the library, you meet this Jacob guy. Then we compare notes and decide who to tell.”

  As determined as Hannah was not to give in, something in Ashley’s expression softened her resolve. Hannah imagined being Ashley, possibly on the brink of having to choose which parent to live with. Her conviction crumbled, replaced only with the desire to give Ashley something to focus on. As scared as Hannah had been earlier, a part of her wanted to figure this thing out too.

  “If our parents ever find out we went to meet total strangers—”

  Ashley cut her off by jumping on top of her and pinning her to the ground. “Thanks, Hannah.”

  For a minute, she thought Ashley was going to cry. Instead, her friend tore up a handful of grass and sprinkled it on Hannah’s face. Hannah twisted her head back and forth, attempting to escape the shower of green while laughing at the same time.

  Hannah woke the next morning to a gloomy, drizzly day. A cold front had rolled in overnight, bringing with it a fantastic thunderstorm that had ruined her sleep. The lightning had been almost constant at one point, the flashes so brilliant they left tracers in her vision. The house had shaken with the rumbles of thunder, as if they were in the belly of an angry, hungry beast. A couple of times the lightning had struck nearby with vicious cracks that left the girls afraid but screaming with laughter just the same. Throughout the night, even as the thunder had faded to a distant growl and the lightning mere blinks, the rain had continued to pound the house.

  Dad was up early making pancakes and toast. He had a meeting in Boston and would be gone for the day.

  Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. At least I won’t have to make up a lie about what Ash and I are up to.

  They ate breakfast in near silence, subdued and tired. Dad left first, and then the girls dressed quickly. They weren’t happy about having to go out walking, or riding in Ashley’s case. The sky was dark and threatening, more rain was almost guaranteed.

  Luck was with them, however, and the rain petered to mist as they were preparing to go their separate ways. Hannah stalled, having difficulty finding the words to say goodbye.
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br />   You’re being an idiot. It’s not like we’re going off to war.

  Ashley spoke first. “Keep your cell phone handy, all right?”

  Hannah nodded, inexplicable tears pooling in her eyes.

  “Be careful, Ash, okay? Anything feels wrong, get help, start screaming, dial 9-1-1. Whatever.”

  Ashley tried to put on her tough-girl face, but it wouldn’t cover the concern in her eyes. “They’re the ones that need to be careful, whoever they are. Right?”

  Always the tough one. It made Hannah smile and she instinctively gave Ashley a hug. Without another word, she turned and headed for town, tears slipping down her cheeks as she heard Ash pedal away.

  The walk to town was nerve-wracking. Every car that approached was the one from the day before. Every person she didn’t recognize was watching her. Every rustle in the bushes by the road was someone following her.

  By the time she reached the diner, she was frazzled. She scanned the restaurant but didn’t see Jacob, and he would be hard to miss. Hannah walked up and down the length of the diner, looking at the pictures on the wall that made up a mini history of the place. In one, waitresses in short-shorts and roller-skates brought food out to the cars and hung trays on the windows.

  She finally sat at a table in the corner and took the side of the booth facing the door so she could watch for Jacob. The waitress came over and she ordered toast and orange juice. She hated spending her babysitting money frivolously, and was still full from Dad’s pancakes, but thought she should order something.

  The waitress brought her food over and she picked at it, constantly glancing toward the door. The air was stuffy, the fans spinning lazily overhead not doing much to help. The normally welcome scent of bacon and eggs was making her nauseous. Her phone said 9:06 and she was beginning to think that Jacob wouldn’t show. Her stomach clenched when she realized whoever was watching her might have somehow found out she’d spoken to Jacob and—

  A shadow passed the diner’s window and all the bad thoughts that were spinning in Hannah’s head disappeared. Jacob stepped into the restaurant and immediately Hannah relaxed. Somehow, this was going to be all right. She stood with a smile and waved him over.

  “Miss Hannah, I presume.”

  He reached a catcher’s mitt-sized paw out to shake her hand. Hannah watched her own hand disappear into his, his rough calluses and strong grip giving her assurance.

  “Jacob. Pleased to meet you, and thank you for coming.”

  A smile lit up his face, making him appear much younger than Hannah knew he had to be. She moved to sit but he remained standing, and his smile faded.

  “Would you mind if we switched?” He gestured toward the seats. “The Wild Bill Hickok thing.”

  Hannah had no idea what he was talking about but moved to switch seats with him. The waitress came over and Jacob ordered coffee and a slice of apple pie.

  “Never too early for pie, girl. Besides, it’s really just a Danish in a different outfit.” He winked.

  Hannah laughed and watched Jacob’s face split into that smile that she was already growing to love.

  “What did you mean by the Wild Bill Hickok thing? Wasn’t he a cowboy or something?”

  Jacob leaned back, the chair groaning beneath him. “Wild Bill was a jack of all trades. Gambler, gunfighter, actor, lawman, he did it all. The story goes that whenever Bill was playing poker, he’d always face the door, keeping his back to the wall. The one day he didn’t, he was shot from behind and killed. The poker hand he was holding was two pair: aces and eights. If you ever hear someone referring to a dead man’s hand that’s what they mean. Not that I think you’ll be the poker-playing type, of course.”

  Hannah pondered his words. Her first thought was that she could sit and listen to him tell stories all day. Her second was that he was afraid of something.

  The waitress brought his coffee and pie and Hannah waited until she was out of earshot before speaking. “Big Jake, my dad told me the story his grampie told him about your days on the road crew. Is there anything else you can tell me about the clearing—the one where you found the bones?”

  Jacob’s face clouded, matching the skies outside. The wrinkles deepened, making him appear ancient. “Hannah, this stuff you’re getting into, it’s dangerous. I really think we should tell your father.”

  “I’m already in pretty deep. Dad is going through a tough time since my mom disappeared. He doesn’t need anything else to worry about. I want to see it through.”

  The words were out before she could stop them. Jacob studied her. She watched him spinning what she’d said over in his head. Finally, he nodded.

  “Before I say anything more, how much do you already know? Besides the story your daddy told, what else have you heard?”

  Hannah recounted everything from Scout finding the foot to their research at the library, the weird behavior of the librarian, and finding the blogger that Ashley was meeting with. Jacob listened while devouring his pie and sipping his coffee.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. There’s this old lady that lives near me that I went to talk to, Mama Bayole.”

  Jacob’s hand froze in mid-flight as he was about to take another sip of coffee. If he’d looked afraid before, now he was terrified. He placed the cup on the table and Hannah couldn’t help but notice the tremors.

  “What did you say her name is?” His booming voice was reduced to a gravelly whisper.

  “Mama Bayole,” Hannah answered.

  “That’s not possible,” Jacob replied.

  Hannah waited, her expression imploring him to continue.

  “She was in the clearing that day. That was over fifty years ago, and she had to be in her eighties then.”

  Hannah sat stunned, unsure of how to respond. Jacob looked smaller, his fear somehow diminishing him.

  “I told you this was dangerous,” he said sternly.

  “Dangerous is one thing. This...” Hannah stammered, unable to express her disbelief.

  Or am I this afraid because I do believe?

  “Listen, Hannah. It was nice to meet you, but you need to end this. Do you understand?” Frown lines spread across his face like cracks.

  Jacob signaled for the waitress and reached for his wallet. Hannah’s fear morphed into anger. Kids were missing, dead, and he was just going to walk away?

  “You’re a chicken,” she said, her eyes wide, boring into his. “A big man like you and you’re just a scared little rabbit.”

  Her face burned and her hands trembled, but Hannah’s gaze never wavered. She was angry, and the anger of the righteous is something to behold.

  “You don’t have any idea what you’re dealing with, girl.” All friendliness was gone from Jacob’s voice.

  “Then why don’t you tell me? At least do that much before you run off with your tail between your legs.”

  Hannah braced for an angry tirade. Instead, he smiled. It wasn’t the grin he’d flashed earlier that could brighten a room, though. It was a sad smile, born of misery and regret. The waitress came over and Jacob surprised Hannah by ordering a refill on his coffee.

  “You’ve got more than a little bit of your great-grampie in you, and that’s a compliment.”

  The waitress came back and filled his mug. He nodded thanks and sighed deeply. He looked tired, old.

  “I’ll tell you what I know, and what I think. God help me if any harm comes to you because of it. I’ve already lost one dear friend because of this...”

  “You mean Sammy-Five?” Hannah interrupted.

  Jacob leaned forward, placed his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands. The table shook and his coffee splashed over the rim of the mug as he rubbed his face.

  “Yeah, Sammy-Five. No doubt in my mind he’s dead and I’m the reason.”

  “What about his car and never finding the body?” Hannah asked.

  “I’ll get to that but let me start at the beginning. The day in the clearing. Your dad told you what he knew, but he didn’t
know everything. There was more than the altar and the bones. That old witch was there. It was like she’d been waiting for me.

  “The really weird thing is... when I first made it through all those bushes to get to the clearing, I didn’t see her. I saw the altar, but it was empty. The air was different, the scent of pine and honeysuckle were gone. It was a stale smell—a bad smell, evil. When I looked again, she was there, only it was a different she.”

  Hannah waited for him to continue, not understanding.

  “She was lying on the altar, but she was young, beautiful. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought it must have been the combination of the summer’s heat and a long day of mucking out latrines. I walked toward her in kind of a stupor. This happened sixty years ago but I remember it like it was yesterday.” He smiled that sad smile again. “Who am I kidding? I have trouble remembering what I did yesterday, but I do remember this. A sudden wind tore through the clearing. It was hot and humid that day, and the air wasn’t moving, but still that wind came. It ripped leaves off the trees and pulled all the old, dead ones from the ground. They swirled around the woman like a tornado. Then it just stopped, and all those leaves fell back to the ground. There she sat, old and wrinkled and evil.”

  Hannah understood why he’d left this part of the story out—his friends never would have believed it.

  Jacob took another drink of his coffee and continued. “It was then I noticed the ground was littered with bones. There were all these weird figures made from twisted sticks hanging from the trees. Not a single one of those got blown down in the wind. Still, I walked right up to the old lady, as if she were pulling me toward her, reeling me in. I stood in front of her, waiting.

  “She looked at me for a good long while before saying anything. Then she asked me if I knew why she’d brought me there. She was close enough that I smelled her breath when she spoke. It was like the air from an open grave. Vile. I just shook my head. My throat was so dry I don’t think I could have uttered a word if I’d tried.