Read Drowning in Deception Online

Authors: Willa Jemhart

Drowning in Deception (6 page)

The two of them exchanged a look and
whispered to each other. Then the girl reached into her bag, produced something
and held it up for Clover to see.

It was her workbook.

She reached her arm out to show them she
wanted it, but the boy shook his head and gestured again for her to come to
them. She couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t just come to her. They could
accomplish it without crossing to her side of the line.

But they seemed resolute in not budging
from the shadows of the trees.

Clover sighed. They weren’t that far
over the line and it wasn’t as if she would go traipsing very far this time. She
could go to them, grab the book and run back quickly. It seemed to be her only
option if she wanted her workbook back.

She surveyed the area and watched as
they did the same. Swallowing the rock that had formed in the back of her mouth,
she stepped over the line as she had done the last time. She waited, and again
no sirens went off to announce her indiscretion. She walked slowly to the boy
and girl, practically tip-toeing, though she wasn’t sure why. She could somehow
sense that they were trying to be quiet, to remain unseen by anyone but her,
and so she went along with it.

She stopped about one yard from where
they lingered. She remembered how close she’d been to the boy in the dark woods
that day, and how wild he had looked. She wasn’t sure she wanted to get any
closer to them.

The girl was still holding the book out
in front of her, so Clover reached out for it. She was shocked when the girl
pulled it back and hugged it to her chest.

Were they playing some sort of game with
her? If so, she didn’t like it one bit.

Clover took a tentative step forward,
held her hand out for the book.

The girl watched her warily as she
shrunk down to her knees in front of Clover. She started to yank on the boy’s
hand to pull him down beside her, but he resisted. His cautious eyes never left
Clover’s and the scowl on his face made her heart thud.

The boy stole one glance toward his
companion as she insisted he kneel beside her by giving him a harder yank and a
sharp glare. Although he didn't look pleased about it, he too went down on his
knees before Clover.

The girl spoke softly and Clover was
relieved to hear that they spoke in words she understood. “Forgive me. Forgive
us. We mean no disrespect.” She cleared her throat and Clover noticed her
tighten her grip on the boy’s hand. “We didn't mean to steal from you. We’re
not thieves. Please believe us.”

Clover could only stare.

The girl continued. “We were only
looking for something that might help my young daughter, Abilee. She's sick,
you see, and...”

The girl swallowed and chewed her lip
before continuing. “She's only four years old and she's very sick. She has been
for a week. We were hoping to find something that her body would actually keep
down, something to help her feel better. We were looking for some barkberries.
We’ve heard that they…” She trailed off, dropping her eyes to the ground before
quickly looking back up at Clover. “Your book...” She almost smiled. “When she…when
Abilee saw the pictures in your book, her face brightened. She was so happy
that it almost seemed like she was her old self again. But she wants to know
the stories that go with the pictures...” Her face dropped.

It was a compliment. A sick little girl
had been brightened by her stories, but Clover shook her head, not fully understanding
what this girl was trying to tell her. “I'm very sorry about your daughter.” She
looked at both of them in turn, thinking how odd it was for people who looked
to be her age to have a four-year-old child. “I hope she feels better soon.”

She reached for the book again, but the
girl clutched it tighter to her breast, not looking at Clover, and making a
nervous whining sound. It was all very strange.

The boy's eyes blazed at Clover. “We
don't know if Abilee is going to live or die.” His voice was callous and curt. “If
she's going to die,” he said through gritted teeth, “then it's our wish to give
her one last thing that will make her smile before she goes. We would like her
to hear the stories in your book.”

Clover was astonished. Is that why they
were on their knees? Were they begging her to borrow her book for a few more
days? It didn't make any sense. Why wouldn't they simply keep it for as long as
they needed, and then bring it back?

“Stand up, please,” she said. Their
kneeling in front of her was making her very uncomfortable, as if she was some
sort of queen or something. They quickly did as she asked.

“That's better. Now, listen. I
appreciate you bringing my book back. I admit I have been a little lost without
it, but if you would like to borrow it for a few more days to read the stories
to your daughter, then that's okay with me.” She smiled. She was starting to
feel sorry for the shabby duo in front of her. They must be desperate for their
little girl, which would explain their strange actions.

“You don't understand,” the boy growled.

Clover took a step back. She was trying
to be nice, but this boy seemed to ooze hatred at her.

The girl rubbed his hand with her free
hand. “We were hoping you would read them to her.” She bowed her head and
whispered, “We're asking too much. We should go...”

“Why do you need me to read them to her?”
This was turning out to be one crazy day, and nothing was making much sense.

“Because we can't read,” the boy shot.
He glowered at her as if his illiteracy was her fault.

Clover blinked rapidly. Where were these
people from? They dressed strangely and they couldn't read. They seemed
so...poor. She found herself feeling sorry for them. She took a deep breath and
attempted to channel her mother’s natural cheeriness. “I'm Clover,” she said
with a smile. Proper introductions, she decided, might help everyone relax a
little bit.

The boy still did not look very happy,
but the girl smiled shyly at her. “My name is Arma, and this is Orion.”

“Rye,” he corrected.

She was trying to be friendly to these
poor people and Arma seemed to relax because of it. Her boyfriend, or husband,
on the other hand, obviously wasn't the most cordial person. He was still
watching Clover with suspicious eyes.

“Well, it's nice to meet you,” she said.
But now it was time to give them the bad news. She shuffled her feet a little. “I
would love to help. Really, I would. It’s just that… Well, it’s forbidden by
law that I venture across this line.” She pointed at the boundary line not far
behind her.

“That didn’t stop you the other day,”
Rye snapped. “And it’s not stopping you right now.”

Arma glared at him, and then turned back
to Clover with a smile. “I know we’re asking a lot, and I understand if you say
no. But please know that in the course of a whole week, the only time my little
girl has looked happy was when she saw your book. We don’t own such beautiful
things. She begged me to tell her the stories, but I…”

Clover was suddenly swelling with pride.
Arma had called her book beautiful, and just seeing it had made her little girl
happy. Wasn’t that the whole reason that she wrote her stories? To give children
joy?

“It would mean so much to her. And to
us…” She squeezed Rye’s hand and he forced a small, obviously fake smile.

Clover had never felt so important
before, like she had created a wonderful gift, a gift that could help a sick
little girl. It was true, she had crossed the boundary once before, and nothing
really bad had come of it. Really, what harm would it do to cross it one more
time for the sake of helping someone? Her parents had taught her to be kind to all
people. Wouldn’t helping a sick and underprivileged child be the ultimate act
of kindness?

She sucked in a deep breath, smiled, and
nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Arma was beaming, “Oh, thank you. Thank
you so much.” She reached out for Clover’s hand, and then pulled it nervously
away at the last second, her eyes flicking sidelong at Rye.

“This way,” said Arma, and the two of
them turned their backs on Clover.

She knew they were going to lead her
deeper over the boundary line and toward the dark, scary woods. She took a deep
breath, had one final glance around, and followed them.

She kept telling herself over and over
again that she must be crazy. She shouldn't be over the line in the first place.
Yet, here she was, following a strange couple into the dark woods to who-knew-where.
She wasn't sure if she felt sorry for them or if perhaps it had to do with her
ego. Her stories had made someone smile - well, the pictures had anyway. They'd
made a little girl feel better, and that made her proud.

They walked in complete silence a good
distance beyond the place where they had bumped into each other the other day,
and now they were following right alongside the Wall. As Clover walked behind
them she noticed they held hands the whole time. She mused at how in love they
must be. She and Zander used to hold hands like that all the time, but not so
often anymore. But she would fix that soon enough.

Suddenly the duo stopped and turned
around to face her. Arma dug into her bag and produced some folded material,
which she handed to Clover.

“What's this for?”

Arma looked her up and down, at her baby
pink pants and brightly-striped sweater. “It would be best if you didn't stand
out. Your clothing will draw attention. This is a dress like I wear. Put it over
top of your own garments and you'll blend in with us.”

Clover gawked at her. She expected her
to dress like that? “Why would I need to blend in? Where are we going?”

Orion...Rye pulled at a thick clump of
bushes that grew along the side of the Wall. He felt around for a moment. There
was click sound and he pushed. Clover watched in utter amazement as a section
of the Wall the size of a door was slowly pushed open. She was sure she must
have looked ridiculous with her mouth gaping wide open, and her eyes almost
matching its size.

“It's okay,” Arma tried to assure her.

She managed to get her jaw back in its
proper place, but her wide eyes were another story. “Why is your daughter on
the other side of the Wall? Why would she be there? Don't you know that
monsters live over there?”

Rye hissed and was about to speak, but
Arma shook her head and gave him a stern look. “Clover. We live there,” she
said in a calm, soothing voice. “It's okay. You'll be safe with us. I promise.
Just put these clothes on. I'll...we'll,” she glanced at Rye, “We will hold
your hand the whole time, so there's nothing to be afraid of.”

“No.” She looked at both of them
incredulously and crossed her arms “I’m not going over there. The monsters...”

Rye made a growling sound deep in his
throat.

Arma offered her a weak smile and
quickly spit out, “They only come out at night…” She swallowed and gave Rye a
sidelong glance. He rolled his eyes and walked through the door, disappearing
from Clover’s sight.

Clover dropped her hands helplessly to
her sides. She wanted to help them. She really did. But they were asking her to
go to the very place she’d been taught to fear her entire life.

“I didn’t know that people lived over
there, and I didn’t know there was a door in the Wall,” she muttered. “Do the
monsters know about the door?”

Arma awkwardly took Clover’s hand. “Nobody
knows about it,” she assured her. “Rye and I only found it by accident the
other day…when we were looking for the berries.”

From the other side of the door, Rye’s
voice sneered, “I told you this was a bad idea. As if one of her kind would be
willing to help us. They only…”

“Rye. Stop it,” demanded Arma.

His words got Clover’s attention. “What’s
my kind? What does he mean?” Aside from their differing choices in clothing,
Clover didn’t think they seemed to be much different from her. And why was he
being so mean? Arma seemed like such a mild-mannered person. Why would she
marry and have a child with such a rude person?

Arma was about to speak, but Rye
reappeared suddenly. He was glaring at her and she couldn’t help but shudder. “Your
‘kind’. You care for no one but yourselves. You’re…”

“Orion!” Arma’s suddenly loud and
scolding voice made Clover jump. Arma grabbed his hand and leaned in to whisper
something in his ear. When she turned back to Clover, she softened her voice
and begged, “Please. I wouldn’t ask, but this is my daughter. It would mean so
much to her, and to us.” Desperation paled her face.

Clover looked back and forth between the
two of them, Arma with her beseeching eyes, Rye with his animalistic stare. His
words echoed in her head. ‘You care for no one but yourselves.’ How could he
say such a thing? He knew nothing about her. She was a good person with a kind
and caring heart. And that’s what made her decide. She would prove to this
hateful boy that he was wrong, that she wasn’t anything like he assumed.

“Okay,” she sighed and began pulling the
shabby dress over her head. She still hadn’t gotten used to the idea that
someone so young would have a four-year-old daughter, so as she smoothed out
the skirt she asked, “How old are you, anyway?”

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