9
Salem
Warning Bells
F wip-thunk!
Rayne paused, her ax buried in the thick stump as the log she’d split tumbled to the ground. She wiped her brow with the back of her hand, her shoulder muscles tensing and swelling as she lifted the ax again.
Fwip-thunk! Another log split beneath her blade, and my stomach tumbled just like the pieces of wood as they fell to the ground.
It was unfair to my mental well-being, frankly, that she was so distracting. Her long hair was tamed into a ponytail beneath her cap, and she wore brown cargo pants and a black shirt so tight I could count her abdominal muscles through the fabric.
She had no business being that hot. Wielding an ax like it was nothing, throwing around logs.
My fingers were numb from the cold, so I was clumsy as I worked to get the old tire off my bike.
I wanted to ride into Marihope and explore the town, but it was hard to get any work done with Rayne nearby.
She’d been out here since I awoke, clearing away the overgrowth at the bottom of the hill.
There were no gardeners to help her, and so far, other than the cooks, I hadn’t seen any other employees managing the manor.
I could only assume that meant she did the gardening, the landscaping, and the housecleaning all herself. It was no wonder she never attended meals.
That didn’t stop me from looking for her though. I ate alone, or made small talk with the other guests, but it was Rayne I wanted to see.
She picked up the water bottle near her feet and took a long sip. A drip streaked down her chin, and I followed its trail over her throat, along her chest...
She noticed me watching. Hurriedly, I focused on my bike again, but I wasn’t going to get away with it that easily. Footsteps came up behind me, and her shadow fell over me.
“Where are you headed?”
She seemed particularly tall when I was on my knees. She had her ax resting against her shoulder, her arms bare despite the cold weather.
“I was going to ride into Marihope,” I said. “Explore a little, check out the place.”
“I can give you a ride,” she said. “I’m going into town anyway to pick up some things to get that faucet fixed.”
“Sorry again about that.” I stood up, wiping my hands on my leggings and smearing myself with grease before I even thought about what I was doing.
“Don’t worry about it.” She turned away, but talked as she walked, so I assumed I should follow her. “It would be a pretty boring season if a guest didn’t break something.”
She led me back to the shed where my bike had been stored, opening both doors wide. Pulling back a tarp, she revealed a muddy ATV.
“You won’t find many vehicles besides these on Blackridge,” she said. She grabbed a helmet from a shelf, curling her finger at me to come closer. “Most of the terrain is too rough, and the roads wash out almost every winter.”
She fit the helmet on my head, and I let her.
“Sounds like the island doesn’t want to be inhabited,” I said. I was surprised when it actually got a small laugh out of her.
“Sure seems that way, doesn’t it? Hmm. Your head is so small...”
She tucked her fingers beneath my chin, tipping my head up so she could adjust the chin strap. She checked to ensure it was secure, muttering softly as she did, “Good girl. That’s perfect.”
Thank God for the helmet’s visor hiding my blush.
We drove down the steep, narrow road, riding over stones and through icy creeks. It was too loud to talk. I kept my head tucked down against her back, my arms tightly wrapped around her. Loki ran with us, either close behind or beside us, loping through the trees with his tongue lolling out.
It reminded me of being on my bike, whipping through the trails. That feeling of exhilaration, of freedom, when nothing else mattered except the tires beneath me. Only this time, I wasn’t alone.
Rayne was warm. Her jacket smelled like pine sap and floral soap. Her heart beat hard and steady, quickening when we went through a large dip or careened around a corner.
We passed quiet farmhouses and old barns. Horses, sheep, and goats watched us drive by, raising their heads from the grass. Eventually, we reached a fork in the road and Rayne pulled to the side. She parked the ATV between an old truck and an overgrown fence, clipping the keys to her carabiner.
“I’ve got you,” she said, batting my hands away as I fiddled with my helmet. She unbuckled it and peeled it from my head before removing her own. I didn’t know what to call the feeling it gave me, but it was giddy and bubbly, like a bottle of champagne ready to burst behind my ribs.
The forest was lush beyond the fence, so thick and wild it would require the assistance of a machete to walk through. Down the road’s left fork, the path turned to gravel. Steep-roofed cottages and brick-sided buildings sat beneath the trees.
Hurrying to catch up with Rayne, who had already continued down the road, I said, “It’s so quiet here.”
“It’s Sunday,” she said. “Church is in session.”
Still, I expected to see someone. Anyone .
Every window was shuttered; the roads were quiet and vacant. Even the dogs, sleeping on front porches behind small wooden fences, didn’t bother to bark at Loki as he trotted ahead, peeing on bushes and following random scent trails.
As old as the town obviously was, there was some unexpected modernity. Almost every house was equipped with floodlights. Some had obvious security cameras. Streetlamps lined the roads, and I spotted a metal sign affixed to one of them.
Winter curfew begins November 1st. Please be advised that all persons under the age of 18 must be indoors no later than 4 p.m. All persons, regardless of age, must remain indoors between the hours of 6 p.m. and 7 a.m.
“Winter must be really rough here,” I said. “Curfews? Really?”
“There’s places with harsher weather,” she said.
“But it’s not the cold that will get you.
When you’re out here alone in the dark, all the trees look the same, and the snow covers your footprints in a matter of seconds.
” Her mouth was set in a grim, hard line.
“You’re vulnerable. You can’t see shit. But shit can see you. ”
We turned onto a wide cobblestone road. We passed a small coffee shop, the sign in the window declaring, Closed on Sundays! See you tomorrow! Trees lined the street, and cats watched us pass from their rooftop perches. Chickens meandered across the path, scurrying out of our way as we got close.
Reaching a small shop called Andy’s Hardware, we had to shoo a brood of chickens out of the way before Rayne opened the door and called out, “Morning, Andy! You open yet?”
She ushered Loki and me inside, even before a muffled response was shouted from upstairs: “I’ll be right down!”
The shop was small, but well stocked. It smelled distinctly of fresh lumber and sawdust. A few mounted animal heads adorned the walls: deer, rabbit, pheasant. A plethora of home improvement goods were available, from nails and screws to piping and electrical wiring.
Suddenly, there came a rapid pattering of footsteps and an excited squeal. A little girl with long, wild brown hair came flying down the stairs behind the counter and ran straight into Rayne’s arms.
“What’s up, munchkin?” Rayne said, playfully swooping the girl into the air before setting her down.
“No, silly, it’s Seahawk, remember? Not munchkin!
” The girl giggled as Loki licked her face, then spotted me standing nearby and waved excitedly.
“Oh, hi! I’m Rebecca! But you can call me Becca.
I’m eight years old, and my sister Rachel is only four.
That’s why I’m the more responserber..
. um, wait...” She scrunched up her nose. “Respible... respopable...”
“Responsible,” Rayne said, slowly enunciating the word. “This is Salem. She’s one of my guests. Where’s your sister?”
“With Daddy upstairs.” Rebecca beamed, looking up at Rayne with obvious admiration.
She skipped around me, with Loki following her, just as a man with a massive bushy beard came downstairs.
He was carrying a younger girl in his arms, a lopsided pink bow in her hair.
She was sucking her thumb and looked half asleep.
“Hey, Andy.” Rayne grasped his hand in a familiar way. Even tall as she was, Andy made her look small. He was broad--shouldered and potbellied, with a kind smile. She gave Rachel a gentle touch and said, “Hey kiddo. Still sleepy?”
The little girl nodded groggily, rubbing a small hand over her eyes.
“Good to see ya, Rayne. Rachel just had her nap, she’s not quite awake yet,” he said, patting the little girl’s back. He gave me a nod of acknowledgement. “Mornin’, miss. Andy Moss is the name.”
“Salem Lockard,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Always nice to see new folks around,” he said, although he sounded more tired than enthused. “What can I do for ya, then?”
“I’ve got an unexpected fix. Broken faucet.” Rayne’s eyes fluttered slightly toward me, and I turned away before I could spontaneously combust with embarrassment.
As Andy and Rayne discussed the repair, I meandered toward the back of the store. The shelves along the wall were locked behind a metal grate, with various boxes of ammo within. A handwritten sign taped to the lock said, See the manager for ammunition purchase. Conserve your bullets!
A few yellowed newspaper clippings were framed and hung upon the wall. Headlines extended back through the decades. 1985, Record Size Black Bear Bagged By Blackridge Hunter . 1993, Blackridge Lighthouse Begins Decommission . 1997, Grisly Murder Shocks Island Community .
The final headline made me pause, rising up on my tiptoes for a better look at the article. But the paper was old, and the ink had bloomed from water damage. Besides the date and headline, all that remained was a black-and-white photo of Balfour Manor.
The back door was ajar. Rebecca was outside, humming as she skipped through the grass, plucking dandelions.
Poking my head out, I found Loki sitting on the porch, watching the child like a bodyguard.
There was a chicken coop to the left, but it was currently being used to shelter a horde of potted tomato plants instead of chickens.
Colorful pinwheels were stuck into the pots, spinning in the wind.
Several folding chairs were set around a brick fire pit, all of the chairs currently occupied by an assortment of dolls and stuffies.
A small picket fence was the only barrier between the forest and the yard.
“Are you staying at Rayne’s house?” Rebecca chirped.
Smiling at her as I spun one of the iridescent pinwheels, I responded in the affirmative.
“Rayne has a whole bunch of people stay with her, ’cuz she has a Better Breakfast,” Rebecca said, swinging her arms as she stood next to me. “I wanna stay with Rayne too! Daddy said I can have a sleepover next summer if I’m really good, and eat my veggie-tables, and don’t pinch my sister.”
Containing my laughter, I let her talk as I wandered around the yard. She barely took a breath between sentences.
“Someday, I’m gonna go to the tower, just like Rayne! She’s really brave. She’s not even afraid of the dark!”
“Is it dark at the tower?” I said, wondering what exactly she meant.
“It’s super dark!” she said. “But you’ve gotsa go when it’s dark, ’cause that’s the only way you can see it.”
“See what?” I lowered my voice in a conspiratorial way, hoping she’d indulge me.
Rebecca thought for a moment, before she leaned closer and whispered, “The angel.” She giggled softly, covering her mouth. “I’m not supposed to say it.”
“Does the angel only come when it’s dark?”
She nodded. “Yeah. But I’m not supposed to talk about it.” She said it a bit more forcefully this time. But when she spoke again, she was as chipper as ever. “We have a lot of goats, did you know that? I help my daddy take care of them. We have Sadie, Daisy, Winnifred, and...”
As I peered into the trees, something caught my eyes. A long string extended along the top of the fence, all the way around the yard. Bells were tied to it, rusted from the weather. Curiously, I plucked the string, setting all the bells jingling.
There was an immediate pounding of feet, followed by silence.
Turning, I saw Rebecca had vanished. Rayne and Andy were crowded together on the back porch, looking at me with alarm.
Instead of his little girl, Andy was carrying a rifle.
“Whoa, whoa, is everything okay?” I said, looking around nervously.
“Did you touch those bells?” Andy said. His voice was grim, and it felt like a block of ice settling in my stomach.
“Yes, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t think—”
Andy’s shoulders relaxed. He raised his hand, giving me a patient smile.
“Don’t you worry about it, miss. Caught me off guard is all.
They’re to keep out the pests, see. Deer, raccoons.
Bells let us know if they’re trying to get in.
I’ll, uh... lemme put this away...
” He went back inside, but Rayne stayed, her eyes narrowed as she looked at me.
No, not at me. Beyond me, into the trees.
Finally, she sighed. “Try not to touch anything. People around here can be...” A hawk screeched as it wheeled overhead and she flinched, eyes darting to survey the trees again before she finally finished. “Edgy.”