Imprints Page 19

  “I’ve already put your things in the drawer,” she said, “except for what you won’t be needin’. And there’s more, includin’ a jacket and shoes, if you want them. We can’t have you catchin’ your death of cold. It may be summer, but nights are still cool here till August.”

  I spied my suitcase on one of the lower bunks, a small pile of rejected T-shirts and Jake’s jacket lying nearby. My stomach tightened as I opened the case and saw that it was empty except for the wad of cash Ethan had given me, the useless cell phone, and the two-way radio that had been in the pocket of my dress.

  My heart sank.

  “I’m washin’ your dress,” Scarlet drawled. “Hope that’s okay. There was dirt on it. I’ll bring it back later. It’s a pretty thing for dances.”

  Was she going to let me keep the radio, too? Ethan had been careful to choose one that resembled a regular radio, but anyone who looked closely might understand its real function.

  Dar appeared in the doorway. “Everything all set?”

  Scarlet motioned to the suitcase. “I think Autumn here has brought us some things.”

  Dar smiled as he scooped up the eight hundred dollars and the electronics from my suitcase. “Won’t need these. This phone is useless out here. The radio, too. But we can sell them, and it will help support the cause.”

  I wanted to ask what would happen if I didn’t stay.

  He extended a paper on a clipboard. “This is the asset transfer paper. You’ll see that it’s conditional for the first year. Just fill in the blank with your legal name and sign it.”

  Scanning the document, I saw the complicated wording did appear to be conditional, but it was confusing enough that it might actually be binding from day one. I signed the name Sandra Bernard with a hand that definitely didn’t resemble my own.

  “We’re very happy you’re with us, Autumn.” Dar took the paper, glancing briefly at it. “I hope you will be content here.”

  “Oh, I think she’ll fit in right well,” Scarlet said. She picked up Jake’s jacket. “You might want to return this to that young fellow.”

  “Wait!” I reached for it. “Harmony’s flashlight is in the pocket. I dropped it and it broke. Will you tell her I’m sorry? I hope it can be fixed.” I uncovered half the flashlight, holding it with the jacket.

  Dar didn’t take it. “Harmony lent you her flashlight?”

  “Yes.”

  He still didn’t take it but studied me. “You felt something when you touched it, didn’t you? What did you feel?” His voice was comforting and compelling, and I wanted to tell him everything. About his brother’s attack, Inclar’s conversation with Harmony, and his body lying in the forest. Dar had arrived with us, so it was unlikely that he was responsible for his brother’s death. Besides, I’d seen him give Inclar money, so there had to be love or some kind of connection between the two brothers.

  Dar waited, but before I could spill everything, Scarlet took the flashlight and pushed it into Dar’s hand. “Hush, now. Stop grillin’ the child. Some rest is what she needs, and she ain’t going to get much of that if she don’t get to bed. Now get on with you.” To my relief, she shooed him out the door and partway down the hall.

  He slapped at her hands as he left and said with a light note, “Scarlet, I don’t know how I’d run this place without you.”

  “You just keeping rememberin’ that,” she said.

  When she came back to me, I was studying the bunk beds. I hadn’t expected so many beds in such a small room.

  “Everyone shares in the beginnin’,” Scarlet said. “That’s part of the fun. Later you have a choice, though most of us still choose the bigger room and the company.”

  This was a bigger room? Well, it was large enough for three feet between the two bunk beds and contained four narrow dressers, a small electric heater, and a built-in closet, so I guess that was their idea of luxury. I’d hate to see what the small rooms looked like. As for sharing, I didn’t mind, since I needed to ask questions. I only hoped my roommates were willing to talk.

  “So this half of the house has rooms for the single women?” I asked, wondering about Jake.

  “That’s right. There’s a separate entrance to the men’s side. But we’re buildin’ a new house for families back through the trees on the other side of the square, so we women are gonna move over to the old married building soon and give this whole place over to the men. Then we’ll all have a bit more space. The men are sleepin’ on triple bunks right now.” She hugged me to her rounded bosom. “I’m so glad you’re here, child. You just let me know if you need anythin’.”

  “Thank you.”

  She released me and went to gather up my suitcase and the clothes she’d discarded. I sighed at losing my Hard Rock Café T-shirt from Las Vegas, but it was time for a new one anyway.

  “I can’t keep my suitcase?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry. It just goes in a closet out there in the hall. Not enough room to store it in here. Come on, I’ll show you. Oh, but you can keep these.” She set down the suitcase and took my earrings out of her pocket. “We sell the gold and gem jewelry. But these are plastic, so you can keep them. We make prettier ones here if you’d like to learn how.”

  I was glad to have them back. At least Ethan could still track me, even if I put the uncomfortable things in the pocket of my jeans instead of in my ears.

  The closet was two doors down and stuffed with other cases, linens, cleaning supplies, and odd furniture. “This way if anyone ever needs to go anywhere,” Scarlet explained, “they have a case to use. We share them. I hope that’s okay.”

  I doubted I had a choice so I nodded. At least there was no lock on the door, which meant I could get Inclar’s key whenever I needed. It was safer in the case than in my room.

  The outer door opened, and women began to stream in, talking and laughing, though in a more subdued manner than I’d expected from this college dorm setup. They greeted me as they passed, smiling and nodding. One with slanted green eyes and black hair turned into my room.

  “Autumn!” Spring came through the doorway and launched herself at me. “I heard you were lost. I’m so glad you’re back! Are you okay?”

  “She’s fine,” Scarlet assured her. “Just a little cold and dirty, but we fixed that right up. Now where’s that angel child of yours?”

  “Oh, one of the women has him. He fell asleep, so she let me lay him down in the kitchen by the stove.” To me, she added, “They keep a bed there for babies to sleep in while they cook. She said she’d bring him as soon as the dishes were done.”

  “He’s in good hands, then. We’re all like family here.” Scarlet turned back inside the closet and grabbed the frame of a wooden toddler bed, standing on end. “Think this’ll be big enough for your boy?”

  “Oh, he’ll sleep with me.”

  Scarlet released the bed. “Okay, but if you change your mind, it’s right here. Those little ones grow awful fast and wiggle a lot. A woman needs her sleep. Especially around here. Lots of work to do.” She clapped her hands. “To bed now, everyone. The mornin’ comes early, even on fast days.”

  The women were already filing to their rooms. I guessed everyone had already used the outhouse, but I wondered what Spring would do with her son. Or maybe he was still in diapers.

  Scarlet led Spring to the room across the hall from mine. “We’re not together?” Spring frowned, her eyes troubled.

  “No, child, you’re in with me.” Scarlet placed her big brown arm around Spring’s thin shoulders. “I wanted to be sure to help with that little boy of yours. Been a long time since we had one that cute ’round here.” She winked at me, and I was glad to see Spring smiling again.

  “I’m just across the hall,” I told her.

  She hugged me. “Everyone is so nice. I feel so safe here. It’s exactly what I thought it would be.”

  I wondered if she’d still feel the same after three days of fasting, and I also wondered if all the other women and men might be a
little resentful at having to fast because of us, though I hadn’t seen anything from them that showed such emotion. Maybe they were accustomed to fasting often.

  Back in my room, the girl with the dark hair and slanted eyes was already in one of the lower bunk beds, wearing pajamas made from the same flannel as my gown. Her face was sharp, pointed, delicate, reminding me of the classic renditions of pixies or fairies.

  “I’m Autumn,” I said. “I saw you earlier, but I don’t know your name.”

  “I’m Essence,” she replied in a soft, childlike voice.

  “Nice.”

  She laughed. “I may change it again. I feel different sometimes.”

  “Does anyone use their real names?”

  “I never ask.” She gazed through me as she spoke, almost as though I wasn’t there at all.

  “Are we the only ones who sleep in here?” I pressed.

  “There’s another girl, too.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Misty. She works in the kitchens.”

  “No one else? There’s four beds.”

  She had to think hard about that. “There was another woman, but she moved to a private room last fall when there was an opening.”

  “An opening. Someone got married, huh?”

  “No.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I don’t know. She was sick. I haven’t seen her. Maybe she left.”

  “Do a lot leave?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you do here?”

  “I tend the herbs in the greenhouse.”

  Ah, so that explained why I was her roommate. “I’m interested in herbs, too. I brought some herbal remedy books.”

  “That’s nice.” Essence closed her eyes, ending any hope of extracting more information. “Turn out the light when you’re ready, okay?”

  I sat on my own bed, feeling suddenly restless. Now that the fear and cold were at bay, my body was raring to go; the sleep I’d had in the van was enough to last me a few more hours. Did I dare sneak out and take a peek around?

  I stood and started for the door but found I wasn’t brave enough to leave the room. Inclar’s corpse being missing was even more frightening than my knowing where it had been. Could someone have come across it as I had and moved it to protect the children? Surely they would call the police in that case.

  Of course, that didn’t really matter because Ethan was on his way to talk to them. I hoped he didn’t try to get me on the radio, though, now that Dar had it. Ethan wasn’t supposed to call, but with men you never know what they’ll do.

  I crossed to the narrow dresser where Scarlet had put the belongings she’d considered acceptable. My underclothes were all there, as well as my face cleanser and moisturizer. In the second drawer I found a half-dozen T-shirts with the commune logos. The next drawer held the two pairs of jeans I’d brought and a pair of the sturdy homemade work pants I’d seen both the men and the women wearing here. The bottom drawer held socks in good condition but obviously not new.

  The small closet, I found, was divided into four slots. One was empty, two had five or six hanging items, and one held a dress and skirt near my size. Like the socks, they were in good condition but had obviously been washed before. Below these were a pair of sturdy oxfords, which I could tell right away were too large. I bent to touch them, but the imprints were so faint I couldn’t tell who they might have belonged to. At least they weren’t negative. My feet weren’t as sensitive at feeling imprints as my hands, and normally people didn’t feel anything strongly enough at foot level to leave much of an imprint, but wearing strongly imprinted shoes could be as severe a problem for me as stepping barefooted into that confessional had been.

  I cast a glance at Essence, but she didn’t move and her eyes were still shut. I ran my hands across the clothes in the closet, unsurprised when nothing of interest jumped out at me. Above the sparse clothing were small shelves, one for each person. Mine held my two herb texts and my parents’ poetry book, one was empty, and the other two held a scattering of paper and pens, bead jewelry, a lovely clay vase, a bottle of lotion without a label, and a faceless religious figurine with a cross on its chest. Nothing more.

  I was amazed at the simplicity of the way these people lived. I had never been one to care much about clothing or new things, but my antiques meant something to me. Touching them, seeing them, caring for them. It had nothing to do with the value of the object, but the beauty of the items themselves, the care given them by their original makers or owners, the feeling of connection and continuance. My two roommates had nothing like that. They had tossed off their past lives like so much refuse and hadn’t filled them with any substitutes that I could see. No journal, no needlework, no pictures, nothing that gave a hint of who they had become.

  I wondered what kind of pain they were in to live this way and what kind of people they had left behind.

  I felt compelled to touch the few objects that had either been kept or gained by the women in this shared room. Taking a deep breath, I rested my finger tentatively on the stack of paper and felt nothing strong enough to evoke a scene. The pen was the same, as though my ability had deserted me.

  I could only be so lucky.

  The tiny, pretty vase was different. It carried a decidedly contented feeling, and I could clearly see the face of the young man who’d made this for one of my roommates. He had a shy expression, the reddest hair I’d ever seen, and a myriad of freckles on his boyish face. No words accompanied what I saw, and I felt almost as though I were peering through a haze because nothing except the boy’s face was clear. Odd.

  When I touched the religious figurine, swirling images leapt to life, leaving me sickened and weak. Evil images of darkness. Crying. Hurting. Abuse. A woman pressing the figurine into another woman’s hand. I couldn’t see either of their faces. I didn’t know if that was because of my reaction or because the skewed perception belonged to the woman who had owned the object.

  A sound came from the door behind me, and as I whirled to face whoever had entered the room, my fingers lost their hold on the figurine. I bent, grappling to save it, but it shattered on the floor. All there was to do was to look at the broken pieces while I hugged myself, trying not to be sick. I wondered if my roommates would harbor resentment toward me now.

  I glanced at Essence, lying on her bed, but beyond cracking an eye, she didn’t acknowledge the newcomer or my error. My eyes slid back to the woman standing before me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it. I shouldn’t have touched it.”

  “It’s okay,” the woman assured me. “Don’t look so upset. It was just an old thing someone gave me. I never liked it, but I didn’t know what to do with it. You can touch anything of mine you want any time. I don’t mind.”

  She smiled, and then recognition came. This was the young woman I’d seen in the mirror imprint left on her hairbrush, the time when she’d been so angry at her father that she’d wanted to throw it at him.

  I’d found Victoria Fullmer.

  Chapter 16

  I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Victoria, given that I knew she’d joined Harmony Farm and Jake had said he thought he’d spotted her. It wasn’t even unusual that we were rooming together, as she was one of the more recent residents. But I was surprised, and saddened, too, at her appearance. The nineteen-year-old had aged dreadfully, the sudden weight gain doing most of the damage. But there was also a fearfulness in her that I hadn’t felt in her imprints, a fear I hadn’t noticed in the other disciples. Or hadn’t wanted to notice. Victoria’s weight wasn’t a matter of genes or part of the process of aging but a protective covering. I saw that as clearly as if she’d told me herself. The weight didn’t sit at all naturally on her small frame. The Fullmers would be horrified to see their daughter looking this way.

  Victoria—called Misty, now—helped me clean up the broken bits of the figurine before slipping out of her shoes, exchanging her skirt and blouse for paj
amas, and climbing rather laboriously to the top half of my bunk and stretching out. Even her toes were swollen, reminding me of cute, chubby baby feet, except that her toenails were in desperate need of a trim.

  “I moved up here when I heard you’d come,” she said, her breathing strained.

  “If you’d rather have the bottom bunk, we can trade.”

  “It’s okay. I don’t mind at all.”

  Minutes later she was asleep. I’d lived at home during my brief stint in college, so I didn’t know for sure how dorms were, but these roommates didn’t fit into my idea of sisterly bonding. I’d chatted more with complete strangers I’d never see again. If I’d actually joined Harmony Farms, I’d be having second thoughts about now.

  I was being selfish, of course. Neither of my roommates had any idea that I’d been lost in the woods and had discovered a dead body. They couldn’t know I had the curse of feeling imprints. Of all the abilities available, why did I have this particular one?

  I started to set my earrings on the dresser but changed my mind at the last moment and nestled them inside my extra underclothes. Once the light was off and I was in bed, I felt even more sorry for myself. I bitterly missed Tawnia and Jake and Bret. Was Tawnia drawing now? Had she seen me in the trees with Inclar’s body? I hoped not. She’d be freaking out even without the pregnancy hormones.

  I wasn’t in the least tired. Every nerve felt alive, perhaps because of all the honey I’d taken in my hot tea. Come to think of it, I might be feeling restless because drinking so much tea had made my bladder stretch tight again. But no way was I going to tromp through those dark woods alone to the outhouse, not with a murderer loose.

  Or was there really a murderer? I’d started to doubt myself, thinking maybe Inclar had been sleeping or passed out. I’d never been one for flights of fancy, but this place was getting to me. Or maybe Ethan’s worry was getting to me. I’d met Victoria—at least I could report that to her family. Now I only had to find Marcie. If she was here in the singles’ dorm, she would have to be one of the women who came back late, like Victoria. Or perhaps she was among the families. After a year she might have remarried and was maybe even expecting another child.