Did you get lost? Haha. That rye was strong! I waited, but had to go home. Big game tomorrow. Hope you’re in bed having sweet dreams … about me.;) Night
Miss Granger’s right. Ali has no idea what’s happening to her. In a way, I’m glad. I hope she never has to know the horror of what our ancestors have done to us.
47
THE HOUSE is dark, darker than it should be at nine. Noodle’s not at the door waiting for me, which is odd.
As I slip off my boots, I hear whispering coming from the living room.
“Noodle?” I call out.
The whispering stops. There’s a long, uneasy pause.
“Hello,” I call again.
“She’s not here,” Mom answers in a low monotone.
“What do you mean she’s not here?”
I’m almost afraid to peek my head in the living room, afraid of what I might find. But Mom’s just sitting on the sofa, never once taking her eyes off the wall above the mantel … off the flies. They’re back and they’ve somehow doubled in number, as if out of spite.
“She said she was helping you.”
“Helping me?” I rack my brain, trying to figure out what she means, but Mom’s already glossed over.
“Noodle?” I call out as I go in the kitchen. It looks like all the food from the cabinet has been emptied onto the table next to the casserole dish. Potpie night.
Damn it. I forgot the groceries.
And then I remember last night. While we were eating pancakes, I told her she could help me with the harvest after school.
“The wheat,” I whisper, acid rising in my throat.
Racing out the door, I push through the crops, the cold air smacking against my lungs.
The combine. What if she tried to do it by herself … what if she hurt herself, or couldn’t figure out how to stop it and went all the way to Harmon Lake?
“Noodle,” I call out in a panic as the untilled wheat lashes against my arms.
There’s a momentary break in the cloud cover, the moon revealing the top of the combine about a hundred feet to the west. My legs pump harder.
When I reach the combine, the windows are all fogged up. I jerk the door open to find Noodle, curled up in the seat, clutching her fairy wand.
“I knew you’d come.” She rubs her eyes groggily.
“Thank God. Thank God you’re okay,” I say as I hold her, rocking her back and forth. I can count the number of times I’ve cried on one hand, but just the sight of her brings everything to the surface. If something happened to her, I’d never be able to forgive myself.
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I fell asleep on the job.”
“I’m sorry,” I manage to choke out. “It won’t happen again.”
“Is it okay if we call it a night? I’m cold.”
“Yeah, it’s more than okay.” I push her hair back from her face so I can get a good look at her.
She wants to walk, but I insist on carrying her back through the wheat. She feels so small in my arms. She’s so smart, such an old soul, that I think I forget how young she is sometimes.
By the time we get to the house, she’s almost asleep again; she can hardly keep her eyes open.
I don’t even bother getting her washed up. I just tuck her in, clothes and all. “Goodnight, fairy princess Tate,” I say as I pry the wand from her hand.
“Jess is tucked in, too,” Noodle says as she closes her eyes and nuzzles into her pillow. “In a bed of moss just like a woodland fairy princess…” Her voice trails off and she’s asleep.
I sit there thinking about all the things that could’ve happened to her out there and I can barely hold it together. There are two other people in this house and no one noticed she was missing all afternoon … all night. I know I said I’d give Jess time, but I can’t do this by myself anymore. I need help.
“Jess…” I tap on her door, not wanting to wake Noodle. “We need to talk.”
No response.
“I know you’re in there. I can hear you breathing.”
Nothing.
“Look … I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
I go to pound on her door, when it swings wide open, a gust of cold air rushing over me. The window’s open, her lace curtains blowing in and out … like breath.
And no Jess.
As I step inside the room to close the window, I bash into plates of untouched food. That wretched doll is lying in the middle of the floor, wearing some kind of schoolgirl outfit. “Damn it, Jess!” I kick the doll across the room.
I think of Lee with that pack of condoms and my blood turns to venom. Is that how he’s getting back at me? She doesn’t even know he’s her half brother. I feel sick to my stomach. I want to go out to the trailer park and drag her ass back here, but I know if I see Lee, I’ll kill him. That’s a fact.
I tear downstairs to the phone in the kitchen and start dialing Miss Granger, but she’s on her way to All Saints right now and I don’t want anything interfering with that. The only other person I can think of is Sheriff Ely. Despite our differences, he’s a friend of the family. He cares about Jess. He’s the only person in this town who had the decency to tell me what’s going on right under my nose. He can probably track her down quicker than anyone.
I dial his number.
“Sheriff? It’s Clay Tate.”