کتاب 04-09

9

Harper didn’t know anyone was waiting for her on the dock until the boat bumped up against it and someone reached down to take the bow.

“Help you out there, Nurse?” Jamie Close offered a hand.

It was as if the darkness itself were speaking. Harper could hardly make out Jamie’s squat, chunky figure against the black swaying pines and the black turmoil of black clouds in a black sky. Someone else was with her, cleating the front of the boat. Allie. Harper knew her by her lithe, boyish frame and quick grace.

Harper took Jamie’s hand, then hesitated. The cloth sack of supplies was pushed in under the bench on which she sat, a canvas shopping tote containing the rum, cigarettes, instant coffee, and tea, among other things. What was hers belonged to all, according to the old rules of camp—but she was writing her own rules now. If liquor and smokes could buy the Fireman’s secrets, then camp would have to do without.

Harper reached under the seat and plucked the first aid kit from the top of the sack. She rose, leaving the rest behind.

She looked past Jamie, trying to catch Allie’s eye, but the girl had already stood up from the cleat and turned her back. She was trembling—from rage, Harper thought, not the cold. She had her rifle over her shoulder. So did Jamie.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get back sooner, Allie. I understand if you’re mad at me. If you’re in any kind of trouble at all, I’ll talk to Ben or Carol or whoever, and make them understand you bear no responsibility. But I don’t see why you should be in trouble. I said I was going to check on the Fireman and come back and that’s what I did. More or less.”

“You left out the part about goin’ home first, though, din’cha, Nurse?” Jamie said.

So they knew she had taken a detour on her way to the Fireman’s island. She had kept to the trees as she headed out of camp, but had looked back once and wondered if Michael, up in the church tower, was peering down at her. The eye in the steeple sees all the people.

“The infirmary was short on some critical supplies. Fortunately I knew I could get what I needed from my own basement.”

The two fell in on either side of her. Harper was reminded of a police escort walking a prisoner into court.

Jamie said, “That was all kinds of fortunate. You know what else was fortunate? You weren’t clubbed to death with pool sticks. We was fortunate, too. We was fortunate they didn’t follow your tracks, into the woods and all the way back to camp. Oh, yeah. We seen ’em. The Cremation Crew that turned up right after you went in. We both had our rifles but Allie told me I’d have to be the one to shoot you. She couldn’t bear the thought of doing it herself. We hid in the woods watchin’ till we lost the daylight. Then there wasn’t no point.”

Harper and her escorts came out of the firs and up alongside the soccer pitch, a snowy basket filled with moonglow. Harper couldn’t tell if the thudding pain in her abdomen was a cramp of tension or the baby driving a heel into her.

“Allie,” Harper said, “I’m sorry I scared you. I shouldn’t have put you through any of that. But you have to understand, I can’t bear the thought of sending a kid into danger when it’s something I can do myself. And you’re a kid. All of you Lookouts are kids.”

“See, but you did put us in danger. You put the whole camp in danger,” Jamie told her.

“I was careful. They wouldn’t have found my tracks.”

“They didn’t need to find any tracks. They only needed to find you. Maybe you think you wouldn’ta said nothing, but it’s funny how a pool cue up the snatch will loosen someone’s lips. You shouldn’ta gone. You knew you shouldn’ta gone. And what tore Allie up the worst was knowing she shouldn’ta let you. We made promises to keep people safe. To keep well-meaning dipshits like yourself in camp, under watch. All the Lookouts promised Mother Carol—”

“Mother WHO? She’s no one’s mother, Jamie.” Harper thought Mother Carol and the Lookouts sounded like a band that might’ve been playing Lilith Fair in 1996.

“We promised her and we promised each other and we blew it. Carol was sick to death when she heard you were gone. Like she hasn’t been through enough already.”

“Fine. You’ve said what you had to say. Tell Carol you delivered her message, and next time if I feel like a breath of fresh air, I’ll be sure to try and drop her a note. And Allie, you can quit the silent treatment. I’m a little too old to be impressed by that one. Got something to say? Do me a favor and spit it out.”

Allie turned her head and glared at Harper with wet, accusing eyes. Jamie snorted.

“What?” Harper asked.

“You think you’re in trouble. Ain’t nothing compared to the hill of shit Allie is under for lettin’ you go. Allie is doin’ penance for it now. She asked for a chance to make amends and Mama Storey gave it to her.”

“How? Did she take a vow of silence?”

“Not exactly. You remember what Father Storey used to do? That thing about suckin’ on a stone when he needed to think?”

Snow squealed underfoot as they climbed the hill. Harper needed to the count of three to figure it out. It had been a long night.

“You have to be shitting me.”

“I shit thee not. Allie is carrying a stone in her mouth to think over her mistakes and refocus on her obligations. The last time we let down our guard, someone took a stone and used it to crush Father Storey’s head in. We all carry rocks now, to remember.” Jamie removed one hand from her pocket and showed Harper a stone as big as a golf ball.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. So how long are you going to walk around sucking on that thing, Allie?” Harper asked her, as if there were any hope of an answer.

Allie looked like she wanted to spit the rock into Harper’s face.

“That all depends on you, see?” Jamie asked. “Now, you weren’t at the meeting when we agreed there needed to be consequences for people who think they’re above the rules. No one is too pissed at you. Mikey saw you row out to the Fireman’s island, so we’ve known you were safe for a while. Ben and Mother Storey had a talk and agreed it wouldn’t be fair to make a big deal out of you leaving safe territory. At the same time, Carol was worried the rest of the camp would get ugly if you were held to looser standards’n everyone else. So they come to a decision and Allie agreed. Allie only has to carry the stone in her mouth until you take it from her. And you only have to carry it in your mouth for—”

“Jamie, I appreciate you being so direct with me. But you need to know, no matter what you think you all decided, that I am not ever going to suck on a stone in some medieval act of penance. If you think I will, then Allie isn’t the only one with rocks in her head.”

They emerged at the southeastern corner of the chapel, near the steps down into the women’s dorm in the basement. Three Lookouts sat on logs, singing a rustic and curiously brutal hymn, “They Hung Him on a Cross.” Their eyes were bright as brass coins, and the Dragonscale on their exposed hands was lit like burning lace, bathing the snow in crimson light. Their breath unspooled from their lips in threads of red steam. All of them were starved-looking, bones showing in their faces. Thin hands, thin necks, sunken temples, concentration-camp haircuts. A random, disassociated notion occurred to Harper: When your stomach is empty, so is your head.

“Well, I hope you change your mind, Nurse. ’Cause Allie’s contrition doesn’t end until yours begins.”

“Allie,” Harper said, “I take responsibility for my fuckup. Full responsibility. Which means if you want to play martyr, that’s up to you. I’m not making you do it.” She cast a sidelong look at Jamie, and added, “And no one is making me do it, either. It’s degrading and infantile. If someone wants me to peel potatoes or scrub pans, I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. But I’m going to pass on this particular grotesque act of self-abasement, thank you.”

“Allie is ready to do what it takes to make things right. People look up to you, Nurse—sure would be nice if you’d do the same. Allie is glad to serve as an example, for however long it takes.”

“Or until dinner.”

“Nope. Wrong on that. If you won’t take the stone from her and carry it yourself, it stays in, breakfast, lunch, and dinner . . . although you might recall we Lookouts gave up our lunch a while back, so the likes of you could eat. I guess Allie’ll have to take it out and put it under her pillow when she sleeps, but that’s it.”

“I don’t know which of you is worse. Her with her mouthful of stone, or you with your mouthful of nonsense.” Harper stopped walking, turned her back on Jamie Close, and spoke to Allie with her hands.

“Stop this,” she said, in the language of silence that Nick had taught her.

Allie met Harper’s gaze with cold, hating eyes. She had only ever learned how to finger-spell, and so her reply came in a slow trickle that Harper had to sound out in her mind:

Y-O-U

K-N-O-W

H-O-W

T-O

M-A-K-E

M-E.

The last part of this statement involved the use of Allie’s middle finger and was widely known even to people who hadn’t studied sign language.