It took her close to an hour to reach the edge of their clearing. She arrived out
of breath, tired, and more than a little surprised that she had actually found the
way. Hidden well behind the tree line, she stared at the barn. Such an innocent-
looking building. Memories slithered from the dark corners of her mind and she
felt queasy, recalling foul breath, whiskey, and sour sweat. Her knees grew shaky
and she bent over, nauseated, but did not vomit. She straightened up and steadied
herself against a tree. When her head cleared she frowned at the pile of farm implements still outside. She would have expected them to dismantle the bed
and put everything back the moment she’d run up the trail. Were they that sure
she wouldn’t tell anyone? They felt safe to leave all the evidence sitting there?
How long have I been standing here? she wondered and looked at the watch.
Almost twenty minutes. Why is it so quiet?
No smoke curled from the chimney and the only movement was that of the
brown and white hens pecking in the yard. What if they’d gone away? Hadn’t
Iola once mentioned a friend somewhere near Pontiac? No, that was ridiculous.
They were busy conspiring, not paying social calls. There was only one place they could be – out searching for Olivia. Right this minute they were probably in
her cabin, peeking out the door for a sign of her. She pictured herself drumming
her fingers on the table in their cabin, while they paced anxiously around hers.
She watched for another half hour before turning to go back. It was
unsettling, not knowing where they were, but she felt certain they would return
home to sleep in their own bed. They had to get ready for church in the morning.
And Olivia had to get to their cabin early enough to watch them leave.
She walked rapidly back to the wagon and had a short conversation with
Dougan and Dixby. When her empty stomach complained, she ate a few spoons
of jam and chewed on an apple. Then she prepared for her second night alone in
the woods, again sleeping in her clothes and shoes. She had no nocturnal
visitors, human or otherwise, and managed to sleep, waking well before the sun was up. She stared up at the black sky, her mind blank.
Suddenly the pinched face of Mrs. Brewster, the self-proclaimed moral
compass of Five Rocks, filled Olivia’s mind. It’s all a test, she said from under
her nest of tight white curls and sky blue poke bonnet. To pass it, you must find
forgiveness in your heart.
Olivia dismissed that notion with a blink. She most definitely could not find
forgiveness. Wouldn’t even try. She didn’t want their evil brains alive,
remembering what they’d done to her. She’d rather spend eternity down in hell
with people who thought like her, than up in a heaven with a raft of fools willing
to grant pardon to the likes of Iola and Filmore Stubblefield.
She climbed down from the mattress. While she retied her work shoes, she
wondered if she would panic, lack the courage to squeeze the trigger. You’ll know soon enough, she told herself. She cleaned and reloaded the shotgun and pistol, then stood and took deep breaths, one hand on Dixby’s back.
“You know what I think?” she asked the disinterested cow, who continued
chomping on the long strands of buffalo grass protruding from either side of his
mouth. “I think it is a test – but I’ll fail it if I don’t go through with this.”
