The Stone Serpent, page 6
“The illness wasn’t easy on Gwen, or on us,” Francis said. “There were difficult times when it seemed like the Lord was testing us. But there were good times too, weren’t there, Rebecca? Times when your mother was in good spirits.”
Rebecca nodded silently, her mouth in a thoughtful frown. She straightened and brushed one last leaf off the top of the headstone. The breeze caught it and carried it off into the distance.
“I don’t claim to know why the Lord would put a good woman like Gwen through such hardship. His ways are His own to understand, not ours,” Francis said. “In the end, He saw fit to end her suffering and call her home to glory.”
The headstone gave the date of Gwen’s death as March 1, 2016. Her aunt had died six years ago and Laura never knew. She felt heavy with emotion. If only she’d tried harder, if only she could have convinced Gwen that just because she was an outsider didn’t mean she was a threat to her aunt’s beliefs, but she’d been too hurt by Gwen’s letter for that. Now she wished she’d swallowed her pride and fought to keep her aunt in her life.
The rational part of her brain told her it wasn’t her fault, that there was no way she could have known Gwen was sick, but it didn’t matter. It would be a long time before she forgave herself.
“My mother was your aunt?” Rebecca asked.
“Yes,” Laura said. “My mother and your mother were sisters. Unfortunately, they’re both gone now.”
Rebecca nodded thoughtfully. “I’m sorry you lost your mother, too. It’s hard, isn’t it?”
Laura gave a thin smile. “It was hard for me, but I was older than you when I lost mine. I can’t imagine how I would have felt if I’d lost her when I was your age.”
“The Lord helped me through,” Rebecca said. She took Francis’s hand. “And so did Father. Remember what you taught me from the Book of Matthew, Father?”
Francis smiled down at her. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”
Rebecca turned her gaze back to Laura. “I never knew I had a cousin.”
“Neither did I,” Laura said. The understatement of the century.
“May God bless you and keep you, Cousin Laura,” Rebecca said.
Laura felt an overwhelming desire to hug the girl, but she held back. This was all so new.
“Why are you here, Laura?” Francis asked. “Why come looking for Gwen after all this time?”
“I wanted to make sure she was all right.”
Of course, she was six years too late for that. She couldn’t protect Gwen anymore, but she could protect Gwen’s family. After all, they were her family, too.
“Has anyone in Valley Grove been feeling sick lately?” she asked. “Any strange or unusual symptoms?”
Francis shrugged. “Just the occasional common cold. I think Elder Bernard had the flu back in the spring. Nothing unusual.”
That wasn’t the answer she was looking for. The key to what happened to Malachai Applewhite had to be somewhere in Valley Grove. It was the only explanation that made any sense. It wasn’t something in his car; Dae-jung hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary. It had to be here, where Malachai started his journey to Sakima.
She turned away from Gwen’s headstone and gazed down the hill at the large building that stood below. It was constructed entirely of wood and was much bigger than any of the houses.
“That’s the holy sanctuary,” Francis explained. “We don’t call it a church. It’s our belief that we, the congregation, embody the church. The building is simply where we meet for worship.”
Without a steeple, the holy sanctuary looked almost like a barn, but there was no doubting its purpose. The front door and window shutters were adorned with large wooden crosses. Above the door was the carving of a chariot tilted upward as though flying into the sky.
“Why a chariot?” she asked.
“We’re named after the chariot that took the prophet Elijah to Heaven, body and soul,” Francis said. “‘And it came to pass, as they still went on, and talked, that, behold, there appeared a chariot of fire, and horses of fire, and parted them both asunder; and Elijah went up by a whirlwind into heaven.’ Second Kings. Elijah defended the worship of God over that of the false god of the Canaanites, Baal. We strive to achieve that same level of fealty and devotion in a modern world that, unfortunately, has its own share of false gods.”
“I thought Elijah was a Jewish prophet,” Laura said. “This is a Christian sect.”
Francis smiled. “The New Testament doesn’t erase what came before. It builds upon it. We seek to do the same.”
As she watched, a crowd gathered in front of the holy sanctuary. She heard the uneasy buzz of their voices and saw them point up the hill at the cemetery. Her presence had been noticed.
“Why ask me if anyone’s been sick?” Francis asked.
“Did you know Malachai Applewhite?”
“I did,” Rebecca chimed in. “He was my friend Meredith’s older brother. He was always nice to me.”
“Everyone knew him,” Francis said. “Malachai was the Shepherd’s son. Shepherd Eliezer shared the sad news with us at services last night. It’s a shame what happened. To die in a car accident at such a young age.”
Interesting, Laura thought. No mention of the petrifaction of Malachai’s body. Chief Morales must have left it out when she informed his father of the young man’s death. The only reason she would have held back that information was if she was planning an investigation. Laura would have to tread lightly. Morales didn’t know she was in Valley Grove.
“If I tell you something, can I trust you not to repeat it to anyone?” Laura asked.
“Of course,” Francis said.
“You too, Rebecca. Can I trust you to keep a secret?”
Rebecca nodded. “You can trust me, Cousin Laura.”
“I work with the police in Sakima,” Laura said. “I’m the one who examined Malachai’s body after the crash. I’m not convinced it was the accident that killed him.”
Francis appeared surprised. “What did?”
“When I examined the body, I discovered his skin and internal organs had petrified,” she said. “I don’t know for sure yet, but I suspect that was the actual cause of his death.”
“Petrified?” Francis repeated, trying to make sense of it. “Like he turned to stone?”
“Not stone,” Laura said. “Something hardened the soft tissue of his body, to the point where his organs couldn’t function properly anymore.”
Rebecca looked as horrified as her father. “How can something like that happen?”
“I came here to find out,” she said. “Maybe I should talk to Malachai’s family. They might know more about who or what he came in contact with.”
Francis scoffed. “Shepherd Eliezer won’t be any more interested in talking to you than he is in talking to me.”
“He won’t talk to you?” Laura asked. “I thought you were a Church Elder.”
“He stopped talking to me the day I petitioned the other Elders to remove him from the Shepherdom.”
“And make you Shepherd in his place, Father,” Rebecca added.
He smoothed the hair on top of his daughter’s head. “Perhaps, if that’s God’s will. The most important thing is removing Eliezer. I don’t think he’s fit to lead, and I know I’m not alone in that.”
“From what I’ve heard, Shepherd Eliezer isn’t someone who’ll let go of power willingly,” Laura said.
“What choice do we have?” Francis said. “Our numbers are dwindling. Once, the Church of the Divine Chariot was a thousand strong. Now we’re only two hundred. I’ve been trying to convince Shepherd Eliezer that our community needs to make certain changes if we’re going to survive. A better relationship with the outside world. A place for women in Church leadership. Your aunt Gwen was in favor of these reforms, too. Unfortunately, Shepherd Eliezer is stuck in the old ways. The only way things are going to change is if we have a new Shepherd.”
“That’s why Shepherd Eliezer doesn’t like us,” Rebecca whispered, as if she were afraid of being overheard. “He’s forbidden his daughter Meredith from being friends with me anymore. He’s threatened to kick Father out of the Church, but he wouldn’t dare. Not with Father being an Elder.”
“That’s enough, Rebecca.” Francis clearly wasn’t comfortable discussing these things in front of an outsider. “Is there anything else I could help you with, Laura?”
“There is one more thing.” Laura pulled Gwen’s letter out of her purse and handed it to Francis. “I’m surprised to hear Gwen was in favor of a better relationship with the outside world considering what she said in this letter.”
Francis removed the letter from its envelope and unfolded it. Rebecca stood on tiptoes to read it over his shoulder. When he finished reading, he folded the letter and handed it back to her.
“I remember this letter,” he said. “It wasn’t Gwen’s idea. Shepherd Eliezer told her to write it when he discovered she was still corresponding with someone outside the Church. She didn’t want to, but once the Shepherd tells you to do something, you have no say in the matter. That’s another thing that must change. Don’t be upset with Gwen, Laura. She told me many times that she had a niece who was very important to her. I wish she were still with us so she could see you again. I think she would have liked that.”
Laura slipped the letter back into her purse. That her aunt had been forced to cut off contact with her changed everything. Laura felt ashamed of the anger she’d held on to for so many years. Gwen didn’t deserve it.
“Are you married, Cousin Laura?” Rebecca asked.
The suddenness of the question caught Laura off guard. “No, I’m not. I have a very nice boyfriend named Booker, though. I hope you can meet him one day.”
“Who matched you to each other?”
“Who matched us?” she said. “What do you mean?”
The color drained from Rebecca’s face before she could answer. The girl stared at something over Laura’s shoulder. Laura turned to see an older man standing between the headstones, dressed in the familiar white shirt and black slacks of the men of Valley Grove. His close-cropped hair was white with age. She placed him in his mid- to late-sixties, but his broad shoulders announced that there was nothing frail or feeble about him. His eyes were as sharp and cunning as a wolf’s, and his lips were pinched tight in an expression of disapproval. Two men stood with him, flanking him on either side. They were half his age but looked equally disapproving. One was clean-shaven. The other stood out with a thick red beard.
“Good day, Elder Francis,” the older man said. His voice was as sharp and pointed as a scalpel.
“Good day, Shepherd Eliezer,” Francis replied with a nod.
The Shepherd stepped forward. The two men fell in behind him like bodyguards.
“Is this one of the famous reforms you seek to enact, Elder Francis?” Eliezer said. “Bringing outsiders to one of our community’s most hallowed places?”
“We were just leaving, Shepherd,” Francis said.
He held out his hand to Rebecca and the girl rushed to his side. Eliezer eyed the young girl in a way that Laura didn’t like.
“If you’re leaving, don’t let me slow you,” Eliezer said. He stepped aside to give them passage.
The message was clear. They were to exit the cemetery immediately, but Laura wasn’t about to leave without asking him about Malachai.
“Shepherd, my name is Laura Powell. I’d like to speak with you about your son.”
Eliezer looked shocked that an outsider—a woman, no less—dared speak to him. The two men behind him muscled forward as if to get between her and the Shepherd. Francis grabbed Laura by the arm and steered her away.
“Now’s not the time,” he hissed in her ear.
Eliezer’s lips pinched tighter, his sharp eyes following her. The two younger men crossed their arms and scowled like bouncers at a bar. The one with the red beard glared at Laura with beady, animalistic eyes.
Francis pulled her with an iron grip down the path to the street at the foot of the hill. She nearly tripped trying to keep up with him. Rebecca hurried after them.
“I need to speak with him,” Laura insisted.
Francis shot her an angry, frustrated look. “You don’t know that man. You have no idea what he’s capable of. Leave it alone, Laura.”
She looked back up the hill. Shepherd Eliezer and his two men stood silhouetted at the top, glaring down at them, surrounded by graves.
9.
* * *
Laura accompanied Francis and Rebecca back to their house. Once they were inside, Francis strode wordlessly down the entrance hallway as Laura stormed after him. It was a tidy, spartan corridor decorated with a single plant atop a small table and a pastel drawing of Jesus on the wall, opening his robe to reveal a heart crowned with fire and wrapped in a wreath of barbs.
“You shouldn’t have pulled me away like that,” she said. “I needed to talk to him.”
“You need to leave,” Francis replied.
She followed him into the modest, sunlit kitchen. Francis took a glass off a rack on the counter and filled it with water. He drained it in three large gulps.
“I’m not leaving until I talk to Malachai’s family,” she said. “They might know something that could help us figure out what happened to him.”
“The Shepherd won’t talk to you. I thought that was obvious,” Francis said. “I’m sorry, but you need to go.”
Rebecca walked past them to the kitchen table, where a couple of carboard boxes waited. She opened one of the boxes and pulled out a handful of crisp white pamphlets, stacking them neatly next to the box.
“Father made these,” she said. “We’re going to hand them out later. You can join us if you like, Cousin Laura.”
“I don’t think handing them out today is a good idea, Rebecca,” Francis said. He filled the water glass again and took another gulp. “Shepherd Eliezer will be too riled up after what happened. Which is why you need to go, Laura.”
“The Shepherd can’t make me leave,” Laura said. “I don’t answer to him, and I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Francis shook his head. “You’re mistaken. He can have you removed from Valley Grove. Those two men you saw with him—Damien Acker and Fritz Ruggen, the one with the red beard—together they’re known as the Order of the Faith. They do whatever Eliezer tells them to do, without question. On his orders, they would personally carry you out of Valley Grove. Of the two of them, Fritz is the worst. He’s a savage. There are…rumors.”
He drained the glass and filled it again. It was clear the water was keeping him calm, or at least calmer than he would be without it. A ritual, or a nervous habit. Often, they were one and the same. The run-in with Shepherd Eliezer at the cemetery had shaken him.
“Rumors of what?” Laura pressed.
“People have disappeared, or worse. All of them were people who displeased or challenged Shepherd Eliezer. I can think of a few off the top of my head who died in house fires. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”
“I’m not afraid of him,” Laura said.
“It’s not about you, Laura.” He watched his daughter pull another handful of pamphlets out of the box. “Please, just leave now, before things get worse. If it were up to me, you would be welcome here, but it’s not. I’m sorry about that, I truly am. If it were up to me, a lot of things would be different.”
“That’s why we have to hand these pamphlets out today, Father, like we planned,” Rebecca said. “People need to hear what you have to say. I know some of the Elders are with us already, even if they’re afraid to speak out, and I’m sure there are even more people in the congregation who don’t like the way Shepherd Eliezer leads us. Probably more than we think. They’ll stand with us, but they need to know they’re not alone.”
“We’ll see,” Francis said. He took another gulp from the glass.
“Father, we have to spread the word,” Rebecca insisted. “Nothing will change if we’re too scared to do anything about it.”
Francis sighed. “She’s brave, like her mother,” he told Laura.
She watched Rebecca neaten the piles on the table and thought she could see some of Gwen in the girl’s face. They had the same way of knitting their brows when they concentrated, the same way of pursing their lips when they got worked up. Rebecca was Gwen’s daughter, through and through.
Laura was putting Rebecca and Francis in danger by being here. Those men from the Order of the Faith, there was so much anger in their eyes, so much violence simmering just beneath the surface. How much would it take to coax that violence out? Probably not much, and the longer she stayed here, the worse she made it for Rebecca and Francis.
“All right, I’ll go,” she said. “I don’t want to get you in any more trouble.”
“It’s for the best.” Francis wrote his phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to Laura. “Take this, and stay in touch.”
She folded the paper and put it in her purse. “I thought Shepherd Eliezer forbade contact with outsiders.”
“Who’s going to tell him?” Francis said. “Not me.”
“Not me, either,” Rebecca added. Then, to Laura’s surprise, the girl hugged her tightly. “May the Lord take you into His heart and keep you safe until we meet again, Cousin Laura.”
“I’m so glad I finally got to meet you, Rebecca.”
Rebecca looked up at her. “Does that mean you’ll call?”
“I promise I will.”
Rebecca hugged her again before letting her go. Francis led them to the door, but before Laura left, Rebecca exclaimed, “Oh, wait! There’s something I want to give you!”
She ran down the hallway and returned a moment later clutching a thin silver chain in her small fist. She held it out to Laura. Dangling from the chain was a silver heart pendant.
Laura recognized it instantly. It was Gwen’s necklace, a birthday present from Laura’s mother. The last time Laura had seen Gwen wear it was at her mother’s funeral.
