Children of Eternity Omnibus Page 7

  Beneath the rug was a door cut into the floor with a metal ring attached. When she pulled on the ring, the door creaked open to reveal a hole, from which came a terrible smell, like the rotting smell from her dreams. Samantha put a hand to her face, her lunch threatening to come back up. She tried to imagine what Miss Brigham was keeping down there. Maybe Miss Brigham had murdered everyone’s parents and stuffed them in her cellar. That would explain their sudden disappearance.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” she said. She lit a candle with the hearth fire and then jumped into the hole.

  Chapter 14: The Cellar

  The candle did little to penetrate the darkness. The feeble glow from the candle showed her only walls of hard-packed dirt around her and the supporting beams of the cottage overhead. The smell of decay was even stronger underneath the house so that she had to put her apron to her face.

  Ahead, she found only more dirt. She held her breath as she released her apron and then chipped away at some of the dirt with her fingers. Behind it was more dirt of the same gray-brown color. Maybe it isn’t dirt at all, she thought. She put a chip in her mouth. Her face puckered with disgust and she spat until the taste left her mouth.

  With that mystery solved, she pushed ahead. Then she saw a pair of eyes looking up at her from the floor. She put a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming. After a moment, she collected herself enough to realize the eyes were painted onto the face of a doll. Samantha bent down to dig around the face until she managed to pry away a chunk of white porcelain with a tress of rough hair the same color as her own.

  She doubted The Way permitted owning dolls. She dug around the area more, turning up the body of a doll dressed in plaid fabric unlike anything seen in Eternity. The fragments of porcelain she hurled into the dark, but the dress she tucked into her apron to show Prudence later. Her friend might know more about the fabric.

  The doll was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. The farther she crept along the cellar, the more items she found. Broken cribs, tattered mobiles, and splintered bassinettes lay stacked in heaps, enough for at least two-dozen babies. From the brittleness of the materials, she guessed they must have been down in the cellar for several years at least.

  The smell of decay increased until her eyes watered. She crept around a stack of buggies to find a cabinet lined with clay jars. She opened one to find it filled with a cream-colored sludge that made her gag. She forced herself to jab a finger into the pot to taste the goo. Baby formula, she thought. Formula long since expired.

  She put the jar back on the shelf and opened a wooden box next to the cabinet. Inside she found neat stacks of tiny white nightgowns. A tag on the first nightgown read, ‘Prudence Elizabeth Gooddell.’ She found another for ‘Helena Marie Bloom’ and ‘Phyllis Jane Baker.’ These are their baby clothes, she thought. Yet from the spotlessness of the fabric, they didn’t appear to have ever been worn. She shoved Prudence’s nightgown into her apron pocket.

  Her head still spinning from this discovery, Samantha didn’t see the trunk until she tripped over it. She tumbled forward, landing headfirst in the crate of baby clothes. She sat up and then crawled back over to the trunk to examine it.

  The trunk was made of metal covered in a leathery substance that reminded her of the snake in the church. On the top of the trunk was stamped the word, ‘Samsonite.’ A shiny bronze lock hung from the center of the chest to keep out prying eyes like Samantha’s.

  A strange calm descended over her as she considered the situation. If only she had a hairpin she could use to open the lock. She could go back up and look for one, but she didn’t want to take the time. Miss Brigham could return from visiting the reverend at any moment.

  She swept the candle around the basement, looking for something she could use. The cribs and mobiles and bassinettes wouldn’t do any good. She needed something metal, something narrow and yet strong enough. Her eyes fell on the wheels of the buggies with their thin metal spokes.

  Samantha crawled over to the nearest buggy and pried a wheel loose. The spokes had rusted from being down in the cellar, but they should do the trick. She had little difficulty snapping them off the wheel.

  Then she returned to the trunk and jammed one of the spokes into the lock. She twisted it around, listening for the click that would signal success. Instead, she pulled out a warped and twisted piece of metal a minute later. She threw it aside and tried the next one with the same result.

  She closed her eyes this time and once again felt a mysterious calm as she stuck the spoke into the lock. She twisted the piece of metal around for a few seconds and then heard a click followed by the pop of the trunk opening. I did it! she thought. In the next moment her joy turned to a cold shiver that ran the length of her body.

  When she opened her eyes, she thought she was dreaming. Inside the trunk she saw row after row of books. They came in every shape, size, and color it seemed from some as thick as Miss Brigham’s Bible to others as thin as her fingers.

  She found not just books, but magazines as well. She opened one and saw illustrations like the pages she’d found at Prudence’s cottage. Samantha ran a hand over the pictures of women in trousers and short-sleeved blouses as they glared defiantly at the camera. These women certainly didn’t live in Eternity and they weren’t savages.

  Samantha grabbed a book compact enough to fit in her apron and then slammed the trunk’s lid shut. It wouldn’t stay down without locking it. Above, came the sound not just of Miss Brigham’s voice, but Prudence’s as well. Samantha reached out to grab one of the bassinettes and placed it on the top of the trunk. The lid strained for a moment, but stayed down.

  Samantha hurried back towards the opening to the cellar, hearing the sound of voices growing closer. At the opening, she heard the doorknob turning. Samantha leapt through the trap door, closed it, and then rolled the carpet back over before Miss Brigham entered the cottage with Prudence on her heels. “My word, Samantha, what is going on in here?”

  “I was sweeping up,” she said.

  “Well, you’ve done a marvelous job, dear. I don’t see a speck of dust on the floor at all.” After Samantha thanked her, Miss Brigham put a hand on Prudence’s shoulder. “Someone has come to pay you a visit. Why don’t you two go outside to chat? I’ll rearrange this furniture.”

  “I’ll get it!” Samantha volunteered too quickly. “I would feel bad about making you do that after I moved it all.”

  “Nonsense, dear. You did such a wonderful job it’s the least I can do to repay you.”

  Samantha glanced around the room to make sure she hadn’t left any obvious clues and then met Prudence at the door. “Let’s go over to your place,” Samantha whispered. “There’s something I need to show you.”

  “What is it?”

  Samantha said nothing, instead shoving her friend out the door. They had much to discuss.

  Chapter 15: Secrets

  Only after they went inside Prudence’s cottage and closed the curtains did Samantha explain what she had seen in Miss Brigham’s cellar. As Prudence listened in the candlelight, her expression changed from annoyed to shocked to horrified. “Why would Miss Brigham have new baby clothes in her cellar with our names on them?”

  “I don’t know,” Samantha said.

  “You’re lying,” Prudence said.

  Samantha took out the nightgown from her pocket and tossed it to Prudence. Prudence’s eyes widened as she read the tag. “That’s my name,” she said. “I don’t understand. We should tell the reverend.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “We don’t know if he has any involvement in this or not. Until we make sure, we have to keep this to ourselves.”

  “Isn’t that dishonest?”

  “No, it’s smart. We’re not lying to anyone. We’re withholding information until a more convenient time.”

  Prudence considered this, no doubt weighing it against The Way. Finally, she nodded and sa
id, “All right. For now we can keep this between us. But as soon as you know Reverend Crane is innocent you have to tell him.”

  “Of course.” Samantha reached into her apron and first produced the plaid dress taken off the broken porcelain doll. She held out the fabric to Prudence, who touched it as though it contained an electric shock. “Go on, take it. It’s yours.”

  “I couldn’t. It’s against the rules.”

  “Why? You’re not wearing it or making any colored clothes for other people. Where does it say in The Way you can’t admire a piece of cloth?”

  “Well—”

  “I took it for you. Don’t you like it?”

  “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen, but—”

  “Take it and put it away someplace.” Prudence finally took the dress and hid it in the bottom of her sewing box. She came back to Samantha wringing her hands and looking around the cottage worriedly like she still expected God to smite her.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” she said.

  “Stop worrying. Everything will be fine. Tomorrow I’ll go back down there and see what else I can find.”

  “I don’t like this at all. Secrets are almost the same as lies. We’re going to Hell for this.”

  “Calm down. We’re not going to Hell.” She put both hands on Prudence’s shoulders and looked into her friend’s eyes. “I need to know I can count on you. Can I trust you with this?” Prudence nodded. “Good. Remember, you can’t tell anyone about this, all right?”

  “I know. I swear I won’t.”

  “I found something else down there too.” Samantha reached into her apron again and pulled out the book she’d taken from the cellar trunk. “It’s a book.”

  “A book? Like the Bible?”

  “Not exactly. It’s called Rebel of Love,” Samantha said. She showed Prudence the book’s cover, on which a bare-chested man sat atop a motorcycle with a blonde woman.

  “What’s that?” Prudence asked, pointing to the motorcycle.

  “It’s a motorcycle. A motorized bike.”

  “What’s a bike?”

  “A bicycle.” When Prudence shrugged, Samantha sat her down to explain. “A bicycle is kind of a two-wheeled carriage. The person sits on it and makes it go with his feet. A motorcycle is a bike where instead of using the rider’s feet, the bike is powered by an engine. Do you understand now?”

  “I guess so. How do you know all this?”

  Samantha thought about this for a moment. How did she know about a bicycle or a motorcycle or how to pick a lock? And if she knew all that, why didn’t she know her name or where she came from or anything about her family? “I can’t explain it. I just do,” she said at last.

  “Why isn’t the man wearing a shirt?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he was working outside and got hot, like the boys in the fields.”

  Prudence seemed satisfied with this answer, so Samantha opened the book and began to read it.

  The story began with a man named Remy LeBeau on an airplane bound for New York City. Prudence stopped Samantha after the first paragraph to explain airplanes. “They’re like metal birds people can ride in,” Samantha said.

  “Really? You mean we could fly up into the clouds? Do you think we’d see God up there?”

  “I don’t think so. At least not unless he wants to be seen.” Samantha continued reading, until she got to a description of New York’s skyline. When Prudence asked her about it, Samantha’s voice took on a distant tone. “There are a lot of very tall buildings, even taller than mountains. Some of them touch the clouds. When you stand on the street looking up at them it’s magical.”

  “Have you been there?”

  “I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself on the streets of New York, looking up at the Empire State Building or the World Trade Center. The more she tried to picture the scene, the less real it became, until everything smeared together in her mind. “Maybe.”

  “Is that where savages live?”

  “Well, I suppose some do, but not everyone. There are good people there too. Lots of them.” Maybe this is where I came from, she thought. Maybe my family lives in one of those skyscrapers, right at the top above the clouds. Maybe they’re looking outside their window right now for me. She closed the book and dropped it to the floor.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t read anymore right now. Maybe later.” Prudence picked the book up from the ground and tucked it back into Samantha’s apron. Then Prudence put an arm around her, hugging her close. “Why can’t I remember?”

  “I don’t know.” They remained like that until the candle burned out. Prudence got up and lit another one. “Miss Brigham told us—”

  “She lied, Prudence. She’s been lying to you all along. There aren’t savages and monsters waiting to eat you. There’s a wonderful world they’ve never told you about.”

  “But why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re wrong! Miss Brigham and Reverend Crane wouldn’t lie to us. They love us. They take care of us.”

  “You take care of yourselves.” Samantha motioned to the loom. “You do all the sewing. Phyllis does the cooking. The boys harvest the crops and tend to the livestock. The reverend and Miss Brigham don’t do anything.”

  They glared at each other for a moment and then Prudence motioned to the door. “I won’t have you saying such wicked things in here. Get out!”

  “Fine.” Samantha stormed out the door, slamming it behind her. She waited at the doorway for a minute to see if Prudence would let her back in, but she didn’t. I don’t need her anyway, Samantha thought. She would figure this out on her own and then she would find that magical city where her family waited.

  Chapter 16: Bedtime Stories

  At dinner, Samantha ate in a corner opposite Prudence with the younger girls. She supposed this would give Helena and the others more ammunition to make fun of her with, but she didn’t care. As soon as she could manage it, she would get off this island and begin to see the world lurking in the depths of her memory. That liar Miss Brigham and coward Prudence could stay here and rot with The Way for all she cared.

  “This meat is too tough,” Rebecca said. She threw down her knife in frustration.

  “Let me help you with that,” Samantha said. She cut Rebecca’s slice of salted beef into tiny pieces.

  “Thank you,” the girl said. She speared a piece and shoved it into a mouth missing all its front teeth. The five others at their table were having the same problem and without asking, Samantha sliced up their meat as well.

  She watched them eat while picking at her own plate. These poor little girls. They were stuck here with no parents, completely ignorant of the wonders the world held. All they knew was what Reverend Crane and Miss Brigham told them, which Samantha was beginning to recognize as lies. If only she could take them with her so they could all see motorcycles, airplanes, and skyscrapers.

  Well, why not? If she managed to get out, she could tell someone about this place. All the girls and boys could then be rescued from here. That is, if they wanted to be. Some, like Prudence, would probably choose to stay.

  “What’s wrong?” Rebecca asked. “Are you sad?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s hard to explain,” Samantha said.

  “Why?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Why?”

  Samantha sighed. This is what she got for sitting with the toddlers. “Because it is, all right?”

  “All right.” Rebecca looked down at her plate, her face turning red after being scolded.

  “I’m sorry to yell at you, Rebecca. You’re very sweet for asking. I wish I could explain to you what’s wrong, but it’s a grownup thing.” Samantha hated the condescension in her voice. Rebecca probably didn’t like being treated like a baby any more than Wendell or herself. “My friend and I had an argument.”

  “About what?”


  “It was about someone who has been lying.”

  “Lying is bad.”

  “Yes, lying is bad. My friend doesn’t want to believe this person is a liar. So we had a big fight about it.”

  Rebecca pondered the situation, chewing slowly on her piece of beef. Finally, she said, “Friends shouldn’t get mad at each other. Friends should be nice.” She nodded in agreement with herself and then turned her attention back to her plate.

  That’s it? Samantha wanted to ask. Then again, what did she expect? That’s the last time I ask a four-year-old for advice, she thought. When dinner ended, Samantha followed Rebecca and the other little girls to their pallets in the corner. Samantha had so many other things on her mind that the location of her bed didn’t matter tonight. She rolled over to face the wall and closed her eyes.

  As soon as she did, she saw an endless gray ocean stretching before her. The water was perfectly smooth all around her, so smooth she thought she could walk on it if she tried hard enough. Then she heard a clap of thunder behind her and turned to see a wave blotting out the entire sky. She tried to swim away from it, but didn’t seem to get anywhere. The wind howled in her ears, shouting her name and silencing her screams.

  Before the wave overtook her, Samantha woke up to find someone shaking her. To her surprise and joy, her bed was still dry. “Go away,” she muttered.

  “Samantha, it’s me,” Prudence said.

  “I said go away.”

  “Please, Samantha, I need to talk to you.”

  “Talk to me tomorrow.”

  “This is important.” Samantha finally rolled over and saw the seriousness in Prudence’s face. She threw off the covers and followed Prudence into the room where she’d first woke up. Prudence closed the door and went over to sit on the bed. Samantha remained standing, arms folded across her chest.

  “Well, what do you want?” Samantha hissed. She thought of what little Rebecca had said, but couldn’t bring herself to apologize yet. She’s the one who’s wrong, Samantha thought.