Meridian Page 11

  He turned to me. “You watch out for her, yes?”

  The bells above the door tinkled and a group of families poured in, rosy-cheeked and bright with laughter and merriment. Mr.

  Lombardo moved quickly away from our table.

  I didn’t know what to say. Tension radiated from Tens. He was wired to spring, and that made me nervous.

  “Shall we get this to go?”’ I finally asked when none of us move to touch our slices.

  “Yes, that’s a good idea.” Auntie answered.

  I walked over to the counter to get a box and pay. While Tens stayed with Auntie at our table. I listened to whispers that followed me as I walked the length of the restaurant.

  “She’s the witch’s—“

  “Witch too?”

  “Killed those babies—“

  “Let the moms die—“

  “Wouldn’t let them be purified—“

  “Burn—“

  I turned to meet the stares head-on. The whisperers turned away, averting their eyes as if they hadn’t been watching me.

  I stood there for a moment, and their conversations resumed as they ignored me completely.

  Auntie held her head high as we left. “Rebecca, nice to see you. Evan, Emily, your daughter Eva is getting so big. She’s a beautiful baby.”

  As a group they fidgeted and mumbled without meeting our eyes or returning Auntie’s greetings.

  “Andrew, you’ve grown into such a handsome man. Ranching suits you.” She kept trying. Some people ignored us, as if we were invisible.

  “I helped birth half of them. The other half moved here for the church,” she said as we walked out to the Land Rover.

  Two of our four tires were slashed. Tens spun around, scrutinizing the shadows.

  Auntie sank into the passenger seat. She appeared weary and shrunken, as if walking past all those people had somehow aged her. “They’re gone, dear. Did you think to—“

  “I bought four spares when I was out. Odds were good we’d need them.” Tens shrugged out of his coat and gloves.

  “I’ll help,” I offered, unsure that he’d welcome me.

  “Thanks.” He handed me a flashlight.

  I shut Auntie in the car as Tens hauled out the jack. “What was that all about?”

  “Auntie’s been a midwife for the town for decades. Before this place had a doctor in residence, before the big hospital two hours away was built. She handled everything. And everyone wanted her help.

  “About six months ago, the church elders got together and decided that all pregnant women should be confined for the last three months of their pregnancy. They couched it in terms of extended maternity leave to allow families proper preparation for the arrival of the infant. And they banned midwifery not associated with the church.”

  “Freaky.” I held the flashlight as Tens expertly twisted the wrench and heaved off a flat tire.

  “Then they decided that the women needed to be purified for the birthing. There were a bunch of rules that started creeping in. Only bread and juice—Communion foods—for the last two weeks; no air-conditioning—the room should be at body temperature; no medication for pain because women were created to bear the pain of childbirth—“

  “These are men making up this list?” I snorted.

  “Yep. Anyway, soon Auntie was all but shoved out of the process.”

  “But this is America—it’s the twenty-first century. This doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like all the people of the church are mesmerized. And Perimo’s goons are schooled in how to make his wishes sound plausible. One little tiny thing becomes many big things. He can make individuals feel special—important, even—in a way I’ve never seen before. He has amazing power over people.”

  “Why do they think Auntie killed the babies?”

  “There were seven women who were all pregnant within weeks of one another, and they were the first group the new rules applied to. Rose Cannady was the first to go into labor. She was weak from only eating bread, and the labor was long. She started passing out and finally her husband called Auntie in a panic. By the time Auntie and I got there, both Rose and the baby were dead. I tell you. Their bedroom seemed like something out of a history book. Perimo arrived on our heels and blamed the deaths on Rose’s lack of faith. He hinted that Auntie wasn’t a believer and perhaps she was even working against the faith.”

  “Oh my God,”

  “The same thing played out in different ways over the course of October: a preemie only lived a few hours, one child was born severely disabled, another mother’s placenta tore. Each time the family waited until the very end to seek help. Soon they began blaming Auntie and calling her a witch. They’re all coincidences. I don’t know, terrible luck, bad timing? But when people are scared, it’s enough to fan the fires of doubt and blame.” Tens shoved the last nut into place, “We’re good.”’

  I shivered. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He put a hand on my arm. “Be careful. There’s something off about that church. Perimo’s never been anything but nice to my face, but there’s nothing behind his eyes. This is a very conservative small town that leans toward Bible-thumping anyway but he’s started something. It’s like a train with no brakes. I Googled him early on, and I can’t find a past. I found church names where he’s served, but they’re all PO boxes or disconnected phone numbers or voice mail. It’s like he appeared out of nothing.”

  Chapter 18

  Shouts and the clang of pots and pans woke me with a jerk. I lay in bed, trying to place the voices in the house. Auntie yelled and Tens replied in a low rumble. I slipped out of bed, realizing I felt stronger than I had in years. Maybe ever. I had no pain, no stiffness.

  I heard glass breaking as I hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

  Auntie’s cheeks were flushed. “This, this filthy, disgusting lie.” She threw the town newspaper on the table and started pacing. “I knew he wouldn’t let well enough alone, but this is too much.” A substantial cough wracked her tiny frame. I poured a glass of water for her while Tens rubbed her back. She sat and caught her breath.

  “Who lied?” I said, reaching for the paper.

  “Mr. Google Reverend.”

  “I think you mean Internet,” Tens inserted, sipping coffee from a mug that held a gallon if not more.

  “Whatever. He sure as bat crap didn’t study theology to get his credentials.”’ She pointed at Tens as if she didn’t like his correction. He didn’t seem shaken to see her so worked up.

  “What did he say?” I asked. Custos padded over and put her head in my lap with a whine. I stroked her ears, enjoying the texture, so soft. She made me think of Sammy, who demanded attention and touch at every opportunity.

  “He instructed his twelve lackeys to write and publish garbage. Read it! Read that filth! Read it out loud. Even. Go on.” She shooed me until I picked up the newspaper.

  OUTSIDERS BEAR GIFTS OF SIN, GREED, AND SLOTH

  WRITTEN BY THE BOARD OF DIRECTORS, CHURCH OF FORGING PURITY

  We all know the Christmas story. The three wise men who bring gifts to the Christ child. We know Mary and Joseph sought refuge in a town not unlike ours, and that the miracle of Christ's birth was witnessed by simple folks like us.

  But the world is changing, and no longer is our town the pure American classic that it was for so many years.

  We have been invaded by the lax work ethic of the consumer. We don't have to tell you, our neighbors, how badly the closing of our town's largest employer, Furnace Steel Manufacturing, and the closing of the Cristos coal fields have affected our town. You have felt that pain personally. Hardworking, God-fearing members of this congregation have been shamed into standing in line at the food bank. But have you stopped to think why they were closed? Because of profit margins; and numbers. Human beings are not numbers and God does not condone His children suffering in vain. And this is vanity.

  This
week we lost a precious soul to an outsider's illegal animal trap. An outsider found our darling, but we can't help but wonder—if she'd been rescued by a member of this congregation, would she still be with us today? What took so long to rescue the child? Who coerced her to wander so far a field?

  The wolves have begun attacking our cattle at God's insistence. A pestilence plagues other herds so that we will bow down before Him. To those who are righteous, they are wealthy. God despises the sinner. He degrades the greedy, lashes at the luxury peddled by the Devil around us. Band together, brothers and sisters. Bow down before the Lord, that He might smite the sinner and save the pure. Drive out the enemy of God, purify yourselves and your children.

  Our children will be born healthy instead of dying before leaving their mother's womb. There is evil at work in this town, and it is our duty as Christian soldiers to fight. Fight with our faith, our words, and our fists if it comes to that. The Devil fights dirty. We must reevaluate those we associate with. We must quarantine the evil and safeguard the pure.

  But if we do nothing, if we ignore the commandments, if we forsake the covenant that we made with the rebirth of our spirits, then we deserve what the good Lord metes out upon us. We must compel evil to leave us, we must drive the enemy of the Lord away from our boundaries, for only then will we find everlasting life with the Almighty in Heaven.

  We are instituting a prayer list that we will publish weekly to help believers save these desperate souls among us. Outsiders, those who do not follow the faith, need strong encouragement to search their hearts for the Almighty's truth. Let these neighbors know you pray for them, for their eternal happiness, and let those who turn you away shudder with the wrath only He can bestow upon the wicked. We live in Revelation for a reason—the time has come when the earth shall see the glory of God and know His judgment.

  Dumbfounded, I asked. "This is today's paper? The front page?"

  "Yes." Auntie bit off the word.

  I raised my eyebrows and gave her a small smile, trying to lighten the tension in the room. "It sounds like something from a history book. Is 'smite' even a word anymore?"

  She gave me an expression that burned with 106 years of experience. "Look closer. Meridian. Read the other one now."

  YOUR SPIRIT REVEALED

  SCRIPTURE LESSON

  WRITTEN BY THE LORD OUR GOD,

  REMINDED TO YOU BY REVEREND PERIMO

  "... keep all my statutes, and all my judgments, and do them: that the land, whither I bring you to dwell therein, spue you not out.” The Lord is clear. Those who are impure will be cast out. Those who do not follow His judgments and statutes will be destroyed. The Devil does everything to entice you, your spouse, and your children. You must be ever vigilant. Ever on guard against his evil works. "A man also or woman that hath a familiar spirit, or that is a wizard, shall surely be put to death

  Brothers and Sisters, I have received word that the Epiphany is coming, and with it will come the Almighty's judgment on our hearts. A great evil will befall innocents soon, and you will know that I speak the truth as the Almighty commands it. The Devil got Celia Smithson; will he lure your children from their families too?

  We must band together. None will be saved from judgment, we will all stand before the Almighty and He will chronicle our sins. Will He note that we purified this place in His name, or will He repeat that we disobeyed His commandments and His laws? He says, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live. -... As the Lord liveth, the man that hath done this thing shall surely die ..." Will you be surprised when you are received in Hell or will you stand before the Almighty in paradise? We must act now. We must work together to prepare for the way of the pure. January sixth is coming. Will you be ready? I will be. Join me. Amen

  I stopped smiling. Clearly. I was missing the bigger picture. It was an editorial with Bible quotes in a small-town newspaper, and the guy was clearly whacked. No one was going to pay attention to his fanatical blathering. Right? "What's the problem?"'

  Auntie sat down across from me and gripped my wrist. "They all but said you killed Celia."

  "What?" I checked again, but the words blurred on the page. "She wouldn't have made it." I whispered, barely able to get the words out. "You said she wouldn't have made it."

  Auntie nodded. "I'm no longer welcome in the birthing room. Carson asked me to get my groceries in the next town. Billie hasn't had an appointment free to do my hair in months."

  "Perimo's targeting you." Tens pushed away from the counter to pace the length of the kitchen.

  I was working frantically to process what I was hearing, but I couldn't quite get up to speed.

  "I'm working with the devil, according to this prophet." Auntie snatched the paper and threw it across the room. I'd never seen her so upset.

  I felt like I needed to reassure her. "That's ridiculous. No one believes that stuff anymore."

  Tens guffawed. "Then what's with all the slashed tires, phone calls, blood-draped carcasses, and arrows lodged in the front door?" He raised his eyebrows, daring me to connect the dots.

  I shrank further into myself, as if to protect me, us, the way I thought the world worked. "Do you mean—if the Aternocti are here and the church is doing bad stuff—Then maybe they're working together?"

  Auntie considered this for a moment. "The Nocti are supposed to be like us—they don't cause death, they merely move souls to the Destroyers, given the chance. But I don't know. I've never met a Fenestra who'd survived contact."

  "So what do we do?"

  Custos pawed at the back door and pranced away smiling when Tens let her out.

  Auntie stood and stared out the window. The silence stretched. "We go to church. Let's have him say this to my face."

  I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea." That felt like taunting the cobra; wasn't it better to walk away before being bitten?

  Tens joined me. "Neither do I."

  Auntie waved her hands like our opinions weren't part of the discussion. "You get to be one hundred six and you don't need permission from youngsters. Go get ready and for God's sake look proper and God-fearing." She stomped out.

  "What's God-fearing look like?" I asked Tens.

  "Probably not SpongeBob." he answered with a smile and a nod at my pj's before grabbing an apple and leaving the kitchen.

  Chapter 19

  I sound insane, I know that. But I am not crazy. I cannot prove it, of course. The only way to know for sure I am telling the truth is for a soul to transition through me, and by that time, they are not going to wire their friends and family to tell them I'm not a loon. They have other things to think about when they see the light instead of me.

  —Meridian Laine, April 13, 1946

  I picked at the skirt of my school uniform, mortified to know that Tens had washed it and pressed each pleat. I thought of the other clothes he'd delivered to me last night. He hadn't glanced at me, hadn't even grunted when I'd stammered a thank-you after seeing my pink undies with embroidered silver stars at the top of the pile.

  Clearly, Mom hadn't gotten the memo that I was going to have to seem God-fearing for a radical congregation that thought I was a devil-worshipping witch. My school skirt and an ancient ecru lace blouse I scrounged from a closet were the closest I could get to what I thought might appear acceptable. I rolled on a pair of dark green leggings. My tights were ruined seven ways, but "God-fearing"' didn't include bare knees.

  I ambled down the stairs with fifteen minutes to go. It was a good thing my hand was tight on the railing because I hardly recognized the suited man with his back to me. Oh gracious, Tens cleans up well. Charcoal gray pinstripes ran the length of material with a lustrous black sheen. Maybe the pants were a little short and the sleeves a little long. He fussed with a tie in the hall mirror. I must have been reflected in it, because he froze like a rabbit sensing danger. Poised to flee.

  He'd cut his hair too. Now it rucked right behind his ears. He was watching me in the mirror. I couldn't read his expressi
on; it was closed, guarded, maybe a little afraid.

  "Nice." I swallowed the other ooey gooey words that wanted to tumble out of my mouth.

  He grunted and went back to mangling the tie.

  "Here, I can do it." I held out my hand. "I have to tie it on me, but you can tighten it on you."

  He stopped and considered my offer.

  "Really. Hand it over. My dad taught me." It was one of the few father-daughter moments I remembered.

  Tens reluctantly handed me the gray silk tie, which smelled of cedar. I wrapped it around my neck, trying to ignore the heat clinging to it I closed my eyes and visualized the steps, hoping I wasn't about to make an ass of myself.

  With a final tug, I tied the straightest knot of my life. I lifted the tie over my head and passed it to Tens. He grunted again and tucked it around his neck, tightening the knot, straightening the lay. He smoothed down his starched white shirt collar, but missed a bit in the back that edged into his hair. I reached up and turned it down, noticing the quick glide of his hair over my fingers and the stillness of his body at my touch.

  "Let's get this show on the road." Auntie's voice marched ahead of her down the stairs.

  I jumped back from Tens, as though I'd been caught doing something terribly naughty.

  "Thanks," he mumbled, and moved away from me. I think he blushed.

  I turned to Auntie, expecting an outfit that was maybe a step up from her usual impeccable classic. My jaw dropped.

  Auntie was resplendent in a purple velvet skirt suit. She carried herself like the Queen of England, and the ensemble was one that would have made Victorian Elizabeth proud. Layers of petticoats peeked out from beneath a full skirt. A jacket corseted her tiny torso and accentuated the bust I hadn't been aware she had. Even Custos seemed caught off guard.

  Auntie smoothed on a pair of white gloves and handed a set to me. She placed a navy blue pillbox hat, complete with navy blue half-veil, on my head and patted it down for effect. "You'll wear this as well."

  "Do I—"

  "Yes, you have to. I will not have those Believers saying we didn't follow their customs."

  "They wear gloves and hats?"'