Sinister - 7. Chapter 7

"I can't believe the sheriff is dropping the whole thing." Sam's mother paced in the living room, shaking her head. "Saying it's no different from a schoolyard fight. That coward. He's caving in to pressure from Farrow."

Sam's father sat in a chair by the window, looking out at the black van parked in front. One or another of Farrow's minions had been posted outside the Swift home ever since the chaotic meeting at the church. For almost a week, Sam had stayed home except for his medical appointments and his visit to Glen. The sheriff had taken statements from all the students involved, and had just now called the Swifts to tell them that no charges were being filed against anyone.

"Yes, Sarah, I'm sure that's part of it."

"It was attempted murder! It could have been Sam lying in ICU."

"It should have been me," Sam said. "I'm the one Gabe was aiming for."

"It shouldn't have been anyone." Mr. Swift rose and laid his hand on Sam's shoulder. "You didn't do anything wrong. I mean, except lie to us and sneak out of the house. With the help of your accomplice." He looked at Lydia, who was trying to make herself as small as possible in a corner chair. Judy was at the house of her best friend, as pleased as Punch that her parents arranged a slumber party.

Sam looked down. "Yes, Pa. I guess you're pretty disappointed in me."

"No, Sam. I'm mostly disappointed in myself. I'm your father and you should have been able to come to me with any problem. Instead I pushed you into trying to solve your problems all alone."

Mrs. Swift stopped pacing and looked at her husband as his voice betrayed his confusion and uncertainty.

"I really liked Hillcrest when we first moved here. I thought it would be a good place to raise you kids. And it has been, mostly. But if you're not safe here, Sam, what use are the good things about it? I thought I knew what was best for you. But I don't. Maybe you know best and we should let you go wherever it is you were going."

He wiped away the tears that were forming in his eyes. "But I have a confession. I'm a coward, too, just like the sheriff. I don't want to lose my job, and if I go directly against Farrow I probably will. I still have your mother and Lydia and Judy to think about."

"What if you just kick me out, Pa?"

"Reverend Cooper and Reverend Farrow have made it clear that they want to conduct their own investigation of you kids. Basically, they want a witch hunt. And they need you present for that. They need bad guys to make them look good."

Mrs. Swift glared out the window. "They've bullied everyone in this town long enough."

Sam looked up at them. "I think I know a way. Lydia, what would you say to going on a camping trip with some other girls?"

************

Early Saturday morning, Sam's mother opened the front door and saw Rachel Price smiling and jangling her car keys. "Is Lydia ready to go?"

"Yes, Rachel, she's got everything packed." Lydia greeted Rachel and walked out to the SUV carrying a heavy backpack. Mrs. Swift carried out a sleeping bag and a gym bag, and Mr. Price carried out a large duffel bag. "I suppose we overpacked for just two days, but better too much than too little, right?"

"Exactly, Mrs. Swift. I'm sure we'll have a great time."

The driver of the black van parked in front of the Swifts' house looked steadily at Rachel but did nothing.

"Have fun!" Mr. Swift called to the departing SUV. To his wife he said, "Those darn kids. I can't believe they fooled us again."

"Well, they are a lot smarter than we are," she said, then turned and entered the house quickly so that Farrow's man would not see her break down in tears. Inside, with the door closed, she hugged her husband and sobbed, "He's so young."

After a minute in the car, Sam poked his head out of the duffel bag. "Hi, Rachel."

"Hi, Sam. Wasn't it hard to breathe in there?"

"Not nearly as bad as my nightmares. Getting my wrist in here is awkward. Not to mention my clothes."

"Your parents are OK with this?"

"Yeah. We said our goodbyes earlier. They forced me to take all the cash they could scrape together and made me promise to call. Collect."

"That's nice. So where to now?"

"Officially, we're picking up Ruth's little sister, Naomi's little sister and Noah's little sister, so it's going to get crowded in here. Let's go to Ruth's first. It's on Zillah street at Eighth. Then once we have all the girls and their, ah, duffel bags, we'll be going to visit Mr. Tubman."

"Sounds good."

Lydia said, "But we girls really are going camping after that, aren't we?"

"Of course," Rachel assured her. "We can't mess up our cover story."

Sam looked in wonder at Rachel, just a few years older but calmly and happily flouting the authority of those who ran Hillcrest. "Two weeks ago I didn't know if I could trust you. And now I'm putting my life in your hands."

"Sometimes you have to take a chance. But now we're getting close to Ruth's. Which house?"

"Green one, 804 Zillah."

"I see it. And there's another black van with one of Farrow's flunkies. So get your head back in the duffel bag."

************

Harry Tubman opened the door and saw the four teenagers standing on his porch.

Sam spoke for them. "Hi, Mr. Tubman. Does that offer of a ride still stand?"

"Well, I don't know. Where do you need to go?"

"Blythe."

Seeing alarm cross the others' faces, Mr. Tubman relented. "Just a joke, kids. Sam's father told me all about it day before yesterday. I'm all ready. Blythe it is."

As they passed the city limits of Hillcrest, Sam said, "Thank you so much for doing this, Mr. Tubman."

"My pleasure. It's about time someone started standing up to New Damascus Road. I never did have much use for old Farrow. But then I'm in a position to see a little more of what goes on than some."

"Like what?"

"Oh, at the store, the Farrows have a church charge account. Except that a lot of what they charge to the church doesn't seem to go to the church. Where it goes exactly is hard to say, since they live on such a big piece of property, with that high wall surrounding it. The postmistress knows a lot more than I do. They're still soliciting funds for the construction of the churches of the town, and as far as I can see the churches are all completed. But Mrs. Farrow continues to accumulate diamond jewelry, and Reverend Farrow has a very nice Patek Philippe watch last time I looked, and then there's their Audis and their trips to Mexico and Costa Rica."

"Why hasn't anybody said anything?"

"Nobody wants to rock the boat. It's keeping all of us afloat."

"Somebody has to."

"You know, I do believe after that ruckus at the church that somebody might."

************

Even with a stop for lunch, which Mr. Tubman insisted on paying for, they arrived in Blythe by mid-afternoon. Mr. Tubman stood by his car and watched as Sam and the others entered the office of the Ecumenical Universalist Church.

A woman sat at a desk working at a computer. Sam said, "Excuse me?"

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"My name is Sam. This is Ruth, and this is Naomi, and this is Noah. We're all left-handed and we're seeking sanctuary."

"I'm ambidextrous," Noah mumbled.

"I'll get Mr. Norton," the woman said. "Have a seat. It should only be a few minutes. He'll get you all squared away. You know about our programs? There are some brochures on that rack if you'd like to look."

"Thanks. I'm going to go tell the man who drove us that he doesn't need to stay."

Sam walked outside to Mr. Tubman. "Someone's coming to talk to us. I think we're fine, if you want to head back."

"All right, then. Shall we unload all the baggage?"

"Oh, right. I almost forgot."

"I'm very proud of you, Sam. I think you've started something big."

"Like a pebble starting a landslide?"

"Very much like that."

As he stood by the unloaded baggage and watched Mr. Tubman drive away, Sam thought, Even with Glen's assurances, even after hearing the interview with someone just like me who came here, I still can't imagine what my life is about to be.