The Eternal Ones by Kirsten Miller Page B

she felt drops of water slide across her skin in the breeze. It was the first time in weeks that she’d been really alone, and somehow she felt cleaner, as if an invisible film of pollution had been washed away. She was drifting toward sleep when she heard the sound of leaves rustling. She sat up, expecting to spot a black bear or one of the feral hogs that roamed the mountains. Then an old man and his dog appeared at the edge of the woods. Haven grabbed the towel beneath her and wrapped it around her body as he stood silently and watched. The man’s white hair was slicked back and shiny. He carried a large wooden box in one hand. Even in the summer heat, he wore a flannel shirt and well-worn work pants held up by suspenders. To Haven, the outfit looked oddly formal, and it reminded her where she had seen him before. He and a younger man delivered firewood to Imogene’s house every winter. Haven doubted she could overpower him if she needed to.
    “Who are you?” the man demanded as if he’d caught her trespassing in his own backyard.
    “My name’s Haven Moore.”
    The man nodded. His pale eyes were a milky blue, clouded by cataracts. “What’s a young girl like you doing up here by yourself? You know these woods are full of rattlers and copperheads, doncha?” He gave the wooden box a shake, and Haven heard the reply of several angry snakes.
    “I’m not alone,” Haven told him, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice. “My friend Beau just went up to his truck to get our lunch. He’ll be right back.”
    “Who’re you talking to, Earl?” Leah Frizzell stepped out of woods, wearing a faded blue smock that might once have been a pillowcase and a pair of black work boots. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her ears stuck out from her long, thin face.
    “This that girl you told me about?” Earl asked, pointing at Haven with a gnarled finger. “The one who gave you that dress?”
    Leah’s face showed no sign of surprise. “Hey!” she called out to Haven as if they were old friends. “I was hoping I’d see you here. Haven Moore, this is my uncle, Earl Frizzell.”
    “Pleased to meet you,” Haven told the old man. “How did you know I’d be here, Leah?”
    “Sometimes I just know things,” the girl responded matter-of-factly.
    “Leah?” Haven asked nervously. “Have you been following me?”
    “Not following— observing ,” Leah corrected. “And I ain’t the only one.”
    “Them people down there think you got a demon, that right?” Earl butted in as he rested his load on a boulder by the pool.
    For a moment, Haven was too shocked to speak. She looked to Leah, who seemed amused by her uncle’s boldness. “I wouldn’t know, sir,” Haven finally said.
    “Leah says you see things.”
    Haven squirmed. The man was strangely insistent. “It’s not something I like to talk about, if you don’t mind, Mr. Frizzell.”
    Leah took over. “What Earl’s trying to get at is, we don’t think you have a demon.”
    Unexpectedly, a flicker of hope began to dance in Haven’s brain. “You don’t?”
    “You know our church?” Leah pointed up to the hilltop where the little white building lay hidden by trees. “Our faith tells us that the Lord gives some people gifts. Lets us see things that others can’t. I’m one of the lucky ones. I got a hunch you are, too. If so, we might be able to help you out.”
    Haven felt her eyes being drawn to the box at Earl’s feet.
    The man slapped his knee and let loose a high-pitched cackle. “No, we ain’t gonna make you touch any snakes if you don’t want to. And we don’t roll around on the floor the whole time, neither.”
    “Haven?” Beau had heard the sound of voices, and he barreled into the opening in the woods. “You okay?”
    “I’m fine. Leah and her uncle were just talking about their church.”
    The old man stood and picked up his box. Though he was six inches shorter than Beau, he managed to give the boy a good looking over.