Wild Orchids Part 17

I gave her a mock salute and went up the stairs.

The sports store didn't open until ten, but by the time I'd eaten enough breakfast to fortify me for the strenuous day ahead, and we'd stopped in the big Barnes and n.o.ble where I'd picked up $156 of books I needed, the sporting goods store was open. By that time, Jackie's temper was a little frayed. She'd explained about light levels and the position of the sun three times, all to let me know that she was missing the best daylight, so I think she took delight in outfitting me with enough gear to attempt Mount Everest.

Oh, well, I thought, as I handed the clerk my credit card, Tessa and I could probably set up the tent in the backyard and have some fun with it.

At least I wouldn't have to slither to get into it.

One day last week Tessa told me she and her mother had been to a big antiques warehouse just off the interstate and she'd seen some fencing for sale. It took me three whole minutes to figure out what she was really telling me, and after I did, we jumped in my new 4x4 and went to the warehouse.

We came back with enough Victorian fencing, complete with a fancy gate, to surround her secret house and keep Nate and his bushwhacker from destroying it.

Tessa and I also bought some of those poured concrete statues of various creatures-two rabbits, four frogs, one dragon, two painted geese, fourteen ladybug stepping-stones (they were on sale) and a little boy fis.h.i.+ng. Jackie hadn't looked too pleased when she saw them, but all she said was, "What?

No gnomes?" Tessa and I'd laughed because we'd spent thirty minutes debating whether or not to get gnomes. But, in the end, I was able to persuade Tessa against them.

Anyway, by the time Jackie and I had run all the errands and purchased all my hiking gear, it was after eleven o'clock. When Jackie saw me look at my watch, she said, "I swear by all that's holy that if you so much as mention lunch, I'll make you sorry you were born."

I was curious to know what she thought of doing, but I decided not to ask. In my backpack I had several packages of those high energy bars and a few pounds of those nut and seed mixtures, so I could make do. Grinning to show I was a good sport, I said, "I'm ready to go."

Jackie turned away without a word, but I think I heard her say, "There is a G.o.d."

We got into the truck and she gave me directions. I wanted to ask how she'd planned to get to the trailhead if I hadn't come with her, but she didn't look in the mood to answer questions.

She had me drive down one country lane after another until we came to a dirt track that had weeds growing down the middle. The road didn't look as though it had been used in years. "I take it you didn't find this on a map," I said. She'd lost her look of anger and was looking at the beautiful countryside around her.

"No," she said. "It's just something I knew."

That again, I thought, and part of me wished we hadn't come. But I was glad I was with her, as I didn't want her wandering around alone. I wasn't so much afraid of what might happen to her as I was afraid of what she might see. A fallen-down cabin maybe? A place where a woman had been buried alive?

I pulled the truck into a clearing, but when Jackie started to get out, I caught her arm. "This isn't the place where... You know."

"Where a woman talked to the devil?" she asked, smiling at me, and I smiled back, relieved to see that she was no longer angry at me. "No," she said. "I'm not sure, but my intuition tells me that that place is on the other side of Cole Creek."

Again she started to get out, but I held her arm. "Look, if you've made a mistake and we do see an old cabin..."

"I'll turn around and run so fast even the devil won't be able to catch me."

"Promise?" I asked, serious.

"Hope to die."

" Not the answer I wanted," I said, and we laughed as we got out of the truck.

Two hours later I was cursing my stupid idea of going with her. What had I been afraid of back at the house? Loneliness? Time to sit down in the quiet and read a book? Maybe sit in my giant bathtub, drink a beer, and read? Take a nap on the sofa? Were those the things I'd not wanted to do?

I followed Jackie up the mountain on a trail so narrow my little toes were hanging over the edge. Every step was a test of balance as I tripped over sticks, rocks, holes hidden by moss, slick plants, anthills, and black mud that Jackie called "boggy places." My feet hurt, my back ached and I was wet.

Even though the sun was high and hot overhead, it didn't reach the floor of the forest, so everything dripped. And things fell on our heads: yellow things, white things, millions of green things. And every spider in the state had played leapfrog across that trail so invisible, sticky strands of web were constantly hitting me in the face. And when, no matter how much I tried, I couldn't get all of them off, I began to feel that I was a fly being readied for dinner.

"Isn't this the most beautiful place you've ever seen in your life?" Jackie said, turning toward me, walking backward on the treacherous trail.

I pulled six long, sticky strands off my tongue. I would have kept my mouth shut while walking, but the air was so full of water that I had to take two breaths to get any oxygen. "Yeah, beautiful," I said, swatting at some bug. I was discovering species that had never been seen by another human being.

Ten minutes later Jackie went into some kind of ecstasy because she saw these big pink flowers that she said were orchids and she wanted to photograph them. I started to collapse on a log, but she yelled at me to stop.

Seems she wanted to inspect the area for-and I quote-"water moccasins, copperheads, or rattlers."

By the time she told me it was safe for me to sit down, I was thinking kind thoughts about my cousin n.o.ble. If he'd wanted pictures of orchids (which I couldn't imagine but that's neither here nor there) he would have driven back here in one of those four-wheel drive John Deere Gators, ecology be d.a.m.ned, and the noise of the diesel engine would have made any self-respecting snake run away in fear.

But I was with Jackie so we "respected" all flora and fauna, including deadly poisonous vipers.

She spread out a big s.h.i.+ny piece of plastic on the ground and told me to stay far away from her while she worked. I didn't protest her att.i.tude, but I did take off my heavy pack-so what if she was carrying the camera equipment and all I had was those little packages of food and some water, it was still heavy-and lay down. I was too tired to even sit up.

I would have fallen asleep, but the tree over my head started dropping yellow and green missiles on me. "Tulip tree," Jackie said, glancing up from her camera.

I got out some food and drink, then turned over on my side and watched her for a while. She'd set her camera on a heavy tripod and was taking pictures from every possible angle. Plus, she spent a lot of time manicuring the area around the flowers, removing microscopic bits of debris so her flowers could be seen easily. She put another s.h.i.+ny sheet down, then lay on it as she shot the flowers looking up.

After a while I got used to being pelted by foliage, and I turned on my back and began to doze.

I awoke when someone poured a bucket of icy water on me. Or so it seemed.

"Let's go!" Jackie shouted.

She had on a long yellow poncho that covered her big backpack, making her look like a hunchback, and she was shoving the gear I'd taken out into my pack. "Put this on," she said as she tossed a blue poncho at me.

The thing was still in its package so I used my teeth to tear it open.

"Don't use your-Oh, never mind," Jackie said as she grabbed the empty plastic package I'd dropped on the ground. I put the poncho on over my head, then Jackie disappeared under it to put my pack on my back. The resulting situation was too much for me to resist. Sticking my head inside the poncho, I looked down at her. Rain was pelting all around us. "Jackie, darling," I said, "if all you wanted was to get inside my clothes, you didn't have to go to all this trouble."

I expected her to laugh, but instead, she pulled the waist strap so tight I yelped in pain. "Save it for Dessie," she said, then got out from under the poncho.

I a.s.sumed we'd hightail it back through the mud and webs to the truck, but Jackie yelled, "Follow me," and we went the other way. Sure enough, about a hundred yards down the trail was a huge outcropping of rock that formed a floor and a roof. The ceiling was black from a thousand campfires so we clearly weren't the first to use the place as a shelter.

Once we were inside, we removed our ponchos and packs and sat there looking at the rain. It didn't look as though it intended to let up, and I thought with dread about walking back in that deluge to my nice, warm truck. Again I asked myself why I'd not wanted to stay home.

But I wasn't going to let Jackie know of my discomfort so I didn't complain. "How's your equipment? Anything get wet?"

"No," she said, putting her pack on the rock floor. "It's fine. At the first drops I felt-"

She put her hand to her head.

"What is it?"

"Pain," she whispered. "I suddenly-"

If I hadn't shot out my arm to catch her, her head would have hit the rock. But I caught her and pulled her to me. "Jackie, Jackie," I said, my hand on her cheek as I pulled her head onto my lap. I didn't like the look of her; her skin had gone very pale and it felt cold and clammy to my touch.

Hypothermia, I thought. What was it that you did to help the victims?

Something warm and high energy had to be put inside them.

Moving Jackie to the driest part under the overhang, I put my pack under her head. There was dry firewood stacked in a corner, no doubt there through some unwritten camper's law that said you must replace what you took. Thanks to Uncle Clyde's many warnings, I always carried a book of matches, so in minutes I had a fire going. I was glad Jackie had made me buy a couple of tin cups. I heated bottled water in one, and when it was hot, I used a stick to lift it and pour the hot water into the cool cup.

When I took the water to Jackie, she was sitting up, ghostly pale, but at least she no longer looked as though she was going to die. I handed her the cool-handled cup of hot water, and while she sipped it, I got a protein bar out of my pack, opened it, broke off a piece, and put it in her mouth.

"What happened?" she whispered.

Her hands were shaking so much that I took the cup from her, and when she looked as though she was going to fall over, I leaned against the rock and drew her to me, her back to my front. "You pa.s.sed out," I said, and thought about all the doctors I was going to take her to. Diabetic coma came to mind.

She sipped the water from the cup as I held it to her lips. "It was like I went to sleep and had a dream," she said. "Fire. I saw a fire. It was in a kitchen. There was a pan on the stove and it caught a towel on fire, then the wall caught and everything went up in flame. There was a woman nearby, but she was on the phone and didn't see the fire until it was too late. There were two little children asleep in the next room, and the fire burned the kitchen and the bedroom. The children were..." Jackie put her hand over her face. "The children died. It was horrible. And so very vivid. So real! I could see everything."

Maybe it's because I live a good part of my life in a place of fantasy, but I knew instantly what had happened. Jackie had had another vision. Only this time she'd been awake, not asleep, and I knew she wasn't going to like that.

"This is like your dream," I said slowly, preparing to start persuading her.

"This is something that hasn't happened yet, so I think we should try to prevent it."

But I underestimated her because she understood instantly. Weak as she was, Jackie made an effort to stand up. "We have to find the place. We have to go now."

I knew she was right. Since she wasn't in a condition to carry anything, I grabbed it all, put her heavy pack on my back and my lighter one on my front. Jackie filled the cups with rainwater and doused the fire, then we put on our ponchos, went out into the rain, and started back to the truck. This time I led and this time our pace was at a jog. I was driven by remembering Nate and what a great kid he was and how Jackie's vision had saved his life.

"Tell me every detail," I called back to her as we half ran down the slippery trail. Her face was unnaturally white, surrounded by her bright yellow poncho.

"I saw the children screaming for their mother, but she-"

"No!" I said. "Don't tell me what happened, tell me the details of the place. We have to identify the place," I said over the rain, walking backward, looking at her. "What color was the house? Did you see the street? Give me facts!"

"A pink flamingo," Jackie said, nearly running to keep up with me. "There was a pink flamingo in the backyard. You know, one of those plastic things.

And a fence. The whole yard was fenced."

"Wooden? Chain-link?" I called over my shoulder.

"Honeysuckle. It was covered with honeysuckle. I don't know what was under the vines."

"The house? What did you see inside and outside?"

"I didn't see the outside of the house. There was a white stove in the kitchen. And green cabinets. Old cabinets."

"The kids!" I yelled. How far away was the truck?! "How old were the kids? What color skin? Hair?"

"White skin, both with blond hair. About six, maybe younger." When she paused, I knew she was thinking. "There was a baby, less than a year old. I don't think she was walking yet."

"She?" I asked.

"Yes! She was wearing pink pajamas. And the older child had on cowboy pajamas. A boy."

All the saints be praised, I saw the truck. I got the keys out of my pocket, pushed the b.u.t.ton to unlock the doors, and helped Jackie tumble inside. I pulled off the packs, got out my cell phone, handed it to Jackie, then dumped the packs in the compartment behind the seat. Seconds later, I had the truck turned around and we were heading back to town.

"Who would know this place if you described it to them?" I asked Jackie.

"Anyone who'd lived in this town all their life," she said, and I looked at her.

"Yeah, but if we call them and explain, they'll think you're..."

"Crazy?"

We didn't have time to go into that right now. "We need someone we can trust." I was going so fast over the ruts and holes that my truck tires were hardly touching ground. I had someone in mind but I didn't think Jackie would agree. I was sure she'd want to call Allie, but something about Allie made me think she lacked a calmness that we needed right now.

"Dessie," Jackie said, then began pus.h.i.+ng b.u.t.tons on my cell phone. I'd saved Dessie's number in the directory. When Dessie answered, Jackie held the phone to my ear so I could drive.

"Dessie," I said, "this is Ford Newcombe. I don't have time to go into details now but I need to find someone really fast. She's a woman with two blond kids, a boy about six, and a girl who isn't walking yet. The backyard of the house has a pink flamingo and a fence that's covered in honeysuckle."

"And a swing set," Jackie said.

"And a swing set," I said into the phone.

Dessie didn't bother me with questions. She hesitated a moment as she thought, then said, "Oak. At the end of Maple Street."

We were finally on paved roads, the rain had nearly stopped, and I looked at a sign. "We're on the corner of Sweeten Lane and Grove Hollow right now. Which way do we go?"

"Turn right onto Sweeten toward the Sh.e.l.l station," Dessie said. "Do you see a stop sign?"

"Yes."

"Take a left, go two blocks. Are you at Pinewood now?"

"Yes."

"Turn right and it's the house at the end of the street on the left."

"I see it!" Jackie said, her window down, her head stuck out in the drizzle.

"I can see the swing set and the flamingo. And... and the honeysuckle-covered fence."

"Dessie," I said, "I'll see you tomorrow." I didn't say I'd explain; I just hung up. I stopped the truck in front of the house on the end. Jackie and I looked at each other and What do we do now? hung between us.

"Maybe we should..."Jackie said.

I got out of the truck, but I had no idea what I was going to do. I walked to the front door, Jackie close behind me, and hoped some inspiration would come to me. When I reached the door, I looked at her for courage, took a breath, then rang the bell. We heard footsteps from inside, but then we heard a phone ringing and a woman's voice yelled, "Just a minute."

"The phone," Jackie whispered.

I turned the k.n.o.b, but the door was locked.

In the next second, Jackie started running to the back of the house and I was close on her heels. The backdoor was unlocked and we tiptoed inside.

We could hear the woman laughing and as we stepped further into the kitchen, we could see the side of her through a door that led into the front room. On the stove was the pot with a tea towel beside it. And the towel was ablaze, the flames licking upward to a shelf that contained pot holders and dried flower arrangements, all highly flammable.