Chapter Nine:
Mary Sloane drove into town early the next morning, wanting to complete all of her errands of the day so that the afternoon could be solely for her guests.
All morning her grandmother had been fussing about the house, cleaning and re-cleaning, cooking and baking, and preparing for the day. They had visitors so rarely, and Mary was glad to see her aging Nana slightly energized by her hosting duties. She had a whole list ready for Mary when she woke, and had pestered her the whole way out the door about coming back on time. Mary just smiled with amusement (although very subtle and respectful amusement), and promised again and again not to be late.
The road into town was empty as she drove, and she did not meet another car until she crossed onto Main Street. The air was dry and dusty, every building seemed to be covered by a fine layer of soil. The shops and homes were old, many looking sorely in need of renovation. The few people who walked along past looked tired and worn, though most gave Mary a friendly wave a she drove by.
A decade ago, it had been a small, but thriving community, but over the years since then, the town just seemed to be drifting to sleep. There had been no major change to the area, no big railway or factory that closed. The people just seemed to be fading, moving onto somewhere else. Most of the younger families had moved away, and the older residents just seemed to be waiting out time until they passed away.
Though no one ever spoke of it, it had dawned on Mary about a year before that she was the youngest resident of this valley. The school which she had attended her whole life had closed shortly after she graduated, so any family with children had chosen to leave. Most of her friends had gone off to college or moved to the city, finding no possibility of a future here. She had written to them for a while, but even those ties had grown cold.
Mary pulled up to one curb next to a small general store. As she entered, the man behind the counter smiled up as her over his wire glasses.
"Well, good morning, Mary," he said with a slight wheeze, "What brings you down so early?"
"Hi, Mr. Duchak," she said, "Just getting some things for my grandmother…"
"Just like always..." another voice chimed in. An old woman was hobbling her way carefully up the last aisle, chuckling loudly as she approached. She was grasping a basket by one hand, steadying herself with a cane in the other. Even though the basket was still relatively empty, it was obvious that she was struggling. Mary walked over to her and helped her maneuver the burden to the counter.
"Oh, thank you, dear," she said, "Now, that's enough, I don't want to be a bother…"
"It's no trouble, Mrs. Sauter."
"Aw, you were always a good girl," the old woman replied, "Your Nana's pride..."
"Besides her roses, you mean," Mary said with a grin, and the old woman cackled again.
Mr. Duchak began ringing up Mrs. Sauter's purchases, "How's her hip been feelin', Mary?"
"Not too bad," she replied as she shopped, "She's actually pretty active this morning."
"Glad to hear," Duchak said, "Hate to think of Lily stuck inside all day."
"You're absolutely right, Melvin," Mrs. Sauter said, stressing each word strongly, "Why your old nana was a firecracker in her youth..."
"Never anyone more active in the church than your Nana, Mary," Duchak added.
"And she still is," Mrs. Sauter corrected him, "Although that didn't keep her entirely out of trouble, did it? Ha. Did I ever tell you about the time…"
Mary smiled as the pair talked on. She had heard the stories a thousand times but somehow they never got old. Listening to the people around her had always been important to her, watching the life twinkle in their eyes as they reminisced on better times and happier…
Suddenly, Mary's hands began to shake. She had been gathering some cans of vegetables and they tumbled from her grasp. The world around her was getting dark, spinning away, and a cold panic filled her chest.
The voices around her were muffled, but she could hear their concern growing.
Not here, she thought desperately, Not now…oh, God, they'll see…they think it's all in the past…they'll see…
But all those thoughts were overwhelmed as a vision ripped through her mind.
Water…she saw water…
Fire…there's fire…
The earth…
The air…
All being torn apart…
All spinning away…
The center has fallen…
The balance is gone…
All the roses are dying…
Mary gasped and sat up, looking suddenly into the eyes of not two, but three people.
Mr. Duchak and Mrs. Sauter were hovering over her with fearful, worried expressions.
The third person was Eddie Chalmers. If she was the youngest in town, he was the second youngest.
Sheriff Chalmers, she thought as her mind was able to focus on the present again, He's the sheriff now…
"…even though you used to try to steal my lunch money," Mary finished her thought in a hazy voice.
Sheriff Edwin Chalmers smiled down at her with undisguised relief. Duchak had called him first when Mary collapsed. They would have never called an ambulance, considering the only hospital is over forty miles away.
"Hey, kid," he said, "Old folks here said you took a spill. I guess they didn't lie."
Mrs. Sauter smacked the Sheriff comically on the head.
"Edwin Chalmers!" she said flabbergasted, "Well, I never! To say we would fib about something like that."
Eddie rubbed the back of his head, with a grin. Mary laughed, jolted back into reality and, with Eddie's help, stood up slowly. Her mind was still reeling a little from the vision, but her hands and legs had stopped shaking.
"I'm just kidding, Aunt Celie," he said, and seeing the woman's very unamused glare, "I'm sorry. How you feeling, Mary?"
Mary shook her head, "I'm fine, I'm fine…just, felt a little faint, that's all."
"That's not the first time. Do you want to sit a moment, dear?" Mrs. Sauter asked, still shooting angry glances at her nephew, "Those spells come on you so quickly…"
"No, thank you…" she replied, and noticing the identical doubtful expressions on Eddie and Mrs. Sauter's faces, she smiled, "I'm fine…really…"
"Ok," Eddie said finally, "We'll take your word for it. Everyone knows you don't lie, either."
He smirked jokingly, as his aunt slapped him again on the upper arm.
"Will you be ok to drive home?" Eddie asked, with genuine concern.
Mary nodded, trying to keep the panic out of her face, "Yeah, I'll just take it slow."
"Do you want me to call your grandmother?" he asked.
"No, don't do that," Mary replied, a little quicker than she had intended. Eddie cast her another doubtful glance but nodded.
"Ok," he said, and then forced a bright smiled onto his features. He turned to his aunt and lifted her grocery bags from the counter.
"Well, if everything's under control here," he said, "How 'bout you let a handsome law man walk you home, Lady Celie."
"Oh, posh with the lady talk. And, what's this about you trying to steal Mary's lunch money…" she said, and the pair said their farewells before leaving.
Mary sighed, and looked over at Mr. Duchak. The old man was regarding her with an intense frown.
"I'm fine, Mr. Duchak," she said again, "Please don't make a big deal…"
"What did you see?" he asked abruptly.
Mary stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to answer.
"What do you…" she began.
"What did you see?" he repeated, a little more forcefully that before.
Mary looked away from him, and began to gather the fallen cans of vegetables.
"I don't know what you mean," she said quickly.
When she turned back to him, Duchak was still frowning, his arms folded across his thin chest. The look on his face made her uncomfortable, as if he was accusing her of something.
"I just felt a little faint," she said, trying to sound convincing, "That's all."
The man kept silent, and rung up her purchases slowly. After several very awkward minutes, Mary sighed angrily.
"Look, what do you want me to say?" she asked him, "Do you want me to tell you that I'm still having visions? Is that what you want? Why does it matter anyway, the elders never listen to anything I have to say…"
"Only because you don't tell them everything," he finally said, without looking at her.
"What else do they want to hear?" she asked, "They've known about my visions for years, and they never give me any reason or explanation of them. They won't tell me a thing about what happened in the desert ten years ago…"
"Don't talk about that," Duchak said quickly, glancing up at her darkly.
"See?" Mary said with growing agitation, "How am I supposed to understand this if no one will help me?"
"No one can help you, child," he said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, and grabbed her bags, "Oh, wait, you can't tell me that either."
Mary paid for her groceries and turned around quickly.
"What did you see, Mary?" Duchak asked one more time.
Mary looked back, "I saw Eddie Chalmers get clocked by his old auntie…that's what I saw. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get home…"
"Who's coming to visit you today?" the old man asked and Mary froze. Her grandmother said she did not tell anyone about the people from Xavier's school coming. No one else besides Mary knew…
"How did you…" she asked, and then drew herself up, "It doesn't matter…"
"You're not who you think…" Duchak said softly. Mary paused a moment, and then frowned without her earlier ire.
"Who am I then?" she said, finally asking the question that had plagued her for her entire life.
Duchak shook a cigarette out of a pack and lit it slowly. Mary suddenly thought the man's eyes looked more than aged, they looked haunted.
In the brief interlude of their conversation, the soft roar of a passing jet filled the air. They both looked up, out at the sky and Duchak spoke one last time.
"You need to find that out for yourself, child," he said, giving her a strained, but hopeful smile, "Now, off with you…I think your visitors are near."
Mary stared with open confusion at the man for one more moment and then headed quickly out the door toward her jeep. Duchak walked slowly over to the front store window and watched her drive away.
He glanced one more time up to the sky and sighed.
And I hope, for your sake, you never find out, he thought, taking one long drag from his cigarette before crushing it under the tip of his shoe.