The Faithless Part 3.

The Farm

After something born before men chomped on my Dad’s flesh, after my Dad tried to sell me to make a deal, I tried to go back to my everyday life. I was a little girl with a swing in my backyard and a sister named Naomi. We talked about superheroes and drank flavored water because no one could make me drink regular stuff at the time. That is how my childhood should have stayed. Forces did not let it.

One day, a black Labrador ran across our yard and into the neighbors ‘ yard, tearing through yard after yard. Excited and confused, Naomi and I stared at each other, smiling brunettes with missing baby teeth because our adult teeth hadn’t grown in yet.

Mom kept us sheltered after what happened with Dad. Nothing exciting had happened to us since. A lot would happen to us because of that day.

We heard something coming.

Footsteps.

Yelling.

Kids yelling.

Kids our age.

We did not know kids our age in the neighborhood. Mom gave us an approved list of friends.

A mob of neighborhood kids ran down our driveway and into our yard.

I pulled Naomi off the swing and behind me to protect her, as an older sister must.

They settled in our yard and surrounded us.

“Have you seen my dog?” A blonde-haired bowl-cut boy asked.

I said nothing. These were strangers. How do you talk to strangers?

“Hey, did you hear me?” The boy said and stepped closer.

“Ttaddaway.” Naomi popped out from behind me and pointed to the neighbor’s yard.

The kids followed without much thought or a thank you.

That was dangerous; people mom didn’t know were dangerous.

I frowned at Naomi, considering whether I should snitch on her to Mom for talking to strangers.

“Please, no, Naomi. Please.” Naomi shook her head and begged, reading my mind.

I scolded her, “Mom said, ‘Don’t ever talk to strangers. ’”

“They needed help.”

“We don’t know that. They could have been lying.”

“Hi,” said the voice of a boy beside us.

We both leaped back. Naomi screamed, and I lost my voice as I saw the most beautiful boy ever.

Black hair hid his eyes. His shirt with Raven from the Teen Titans on the front told me enough about him. She was my favorite of the group.

“Can I play on the swing with you guys?” The boy asked.

Naomi shook her head at him. I glared at her. She shrugged at me. I made a face. She pushed me. I pushed her. She grabbed my hair. I grabbed her hair. The fight was on.

“Wait, no, I can go!” The boy said. “Please don’t fight.”

“You don’t have to go!” I blurted.

“Really?” He asked. “I was trying to hang with the other kids, but I couldn’t keep up.”

“Hang out with us!” I still held onto my sister’s hair but finally let it go, giving her a knowing look: she better not snitch, and I wouldn’t either.

The boy named Nathaniel would sit on our swing, and we had our first friend that mom didn’t approve. The neighborhood kids did find the dog, the worst mistake of their lives. The dog made it to McFinney Farm before they caught it.

Fall would come, and we’d play in the leaves and climb naked trees and tell ghost stories. As night came and the ghost stories weren’t scary enough, we’d gamble with our hearts and tell secrets. Nathaniel had a bigger gamble. He would always find his way to sit with me and have his foot touching mine.

In that same Fall, the Labrador who visited McFinney Farm smiled and watched leaves fall as each of its family members was slaughtered by a force cameras, DNA, and the sensitive ears of a dog couldn’t pick up.

Winter would follow, and we’d play in the snow and run across frozen ponds and watch Christmas specials, Dr. Who, and the goofy claymation ones mainly. Nathaniel’s gamble paid off. I always found a way to sit next to Nathaniel and sneak my hand in his.

Adopted by his neighbors, the dog who visited McFinney Farm frolicked in the snow, chasing snowflakes as ethereal as a shadow and as solid as air, destroyed his new family.

A cool spring came next, and my mother’s hot wrath when she found out I was not just talking to strangers but going over a random boy’s house. A quite physical punishment was delivered along with words you shouldn’t call a child. I accepted it because I thought I deserved it at the time. After all, Dad betrayed me, Mom didn’t. Mom, I could trust.

Looking out my window, oblivious to my neighbor’s woes and focused on the pain in my backside, I watched the same black Labrador whimper across our yard, dragging itself by its front legs. It cried, pitifully, until it landed in McFinney Farm, and no one heard from it for a long time.

I avoided Nathaniel for a while until he came throwing pebbles on my window.

I pushed my window open and did sort of a whisper yell to him, “I can’t see you anymore.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you’re great. It’s my mom. She doesn’t like you.”

“She doesn’t know me.”

“Yeah.”

“Should she get to know me?”

“No, that won’t work. So, um, um, don’t come by here anymore, okay?”

“But you’re my best friend.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“No, don’t,” I said and didn’t mean it.

“I’ll ride my bike past here every day at four and you just stop me if we can hang out. Okay?”

“Okay.” I tried to hide how happy that made me.

“Promise?” He asked, his voice full of the innocent desperation only a pre-teen boy could have. So silly, how could he not see I loved him?

“Promise!” I said, laughing, how naive he was not to realize how happy he made me.

Summer came, summer left, still in the cage of my house, watching the boy on the bike go past us every day. Fall, winter, and spring rode by like Nathaniel just checking on me, never speaking, and still changing the color of my world.

Spring came with black death. My mother had stage four cancer. It took her out in two months.

As you can guess, we were a bit too sheltered and afraid of the world. Mom would apologize for that in her own way.

As she laid dying in a hospital bed, I asked her how we could tell if someone was a good person or not without her.

“You can’t.” She said. “And want to know a secret?”

I nodded.

“I can’t either.” She said and hacked out a laugh. “Most of the time, you’re guessing on who’s a good person, who’s a bad person, you’re really fighting your personal demons. I didn’t have any idea, and neither will you.”

“So what do I do?” I asked, feeling something like relief and something like hurt.

“Keep fighting your demons, kid.”

All those years of loneliness for nothing. Someone like Dad could still hurt me.

All that fear being for nothing became a personal demon of mine. Again betrayed, different from Dad. Dad’s betrayal felt like being tossed in fire; painful, rapid, and quick. Mom’s betrayal felt like being frozen alive; long, hope-draining, and inevitable. Mom was the last adult I could trust, and she tricked me. The pain of losing a parent swelled in my stomach, and I couldn’t take that. So I didn’t take her advice. I didn’t have demons to fight. She did. I had lost rebellious time to make up for. I got started on that as soon as I could.

There was one place beyond off limits. One place even normal kids were never allowed to visit: McFinney Farm.

I didn’t know that things that skittered outside of this world lived there when I decided I was going to kiss a boy at McFinney Farms. I also didn’t know Naomi would be a tag-along, but what should I expect?

Naomi, Nathaniel, and I walked through our neighbors’ yards at about 2 a.m. I dropped back, leaving Naomi in front so I could talk with Nathaniel. With the shine of his flashlight, I saw him smile, and his hand touched mine. He tightened up, maybe nervous.

“Um, I’ve got to go pee for a second,” Nathaniel said and found some corn stalks to take a whizz behind.

“Go away,” I whispered to Naomi.

“No, I want to see the farm.”

“Then go ahead. Go see the farm.”

“It’s dark. I’m not going alone.” Naomi said.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

Nathaniel came from the corn.

“Oh, back already?” I said.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to kiss him,” Naomi whispered.

“I’m not going to kiss him,” I said and pinched her, hard.

Naomi yelped and didn’t bother with whispering anymore.

“You always do this. You can call me out, but I can’t call you out. Hippotamus!”

She meant hypocrite. Naomi stomped forward, and she was right. At the time, it didn’t even bother me.

Naomi wandered off. A better sister than I would have stopped her. She stalked off through the cornfield of McFinney Farm, stomping and disturbing everything that rested in there. She had such an attitude, her distant huffs and puffs almost sounded like screams.

Nathaniel and my hands flirted.

One of us grabbed the other’s hand, who can say who when we’re that close? We waited and listened for Naomi’s footsteps to go from murmurs, to whispers, to far too hear. And only the silent rabbits and mice that kissed the bottom of the cornstalks surrounded us.

I should have been a better sister and not lost sight of Naomi. But with his hand in mine, feeling flush in my cheeks and a flash of images in my mind of Nathaniel and me kissing, I let her go.

I giggled.

Nathaniel giggled too and didn’t let go of my hand.

“Thanks for waiting for me,” I said, and not for the first time, I realized what a feat it was to be that patient, and for me? How could a girl not smile? How could a girl’s whole body not shudder with the anticipation of the moment?

“Of course, you’re my best fri--”

“Oh, just friends?” I asked, knowing the answer.

Nathaniel flustered.

“No, uh, no no, I want um, if you want. Listen, it’s fine if you say no, we can still be friends either way, but I like you and want to go out sometime if you like.”

It’s fine if you say no. Boys are so stupid.

I grabbed my love by his shirt and pulled him into me. It was my first ever kiss, and my first time making a grown woman decision.

His phone fell, so we lost the flashlight and were hugged into darkness. I didn’t need help finding the lips of the boy I’d thought about for months.

Our lips met fast, not soft, an electrifying chill zipped up my spine, and soon my mouth was open, wrestling his. We were two kids not understanding what we were doing, but as my hands brushed his arms, I felt every hair on his arms stand up, and I knew he felt how I felt.

I pulled away from him for a chance to breathe and come to Earth.

“Wow,” I said.

“I didn’t like that,” he said, and I heard him spit a healthy glob out. In his shadow-covered outline, he wiped his mouth.

For a moment, time was stabbed and forced to stand still, bleeding.

“I’m sorry,” I said. Panic set in. “Was I too rough. I won’t pull you again.”

“No, that’s not it. It’s you,” he said. “Your breath.”

I shut my mouth and tried to stop breathing. Hot. Sweating. Breathing. Smells. I smelled.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” I said. Weak, why did I sound so weak? “I can get a mint.”

“Here’s one for you,” he said, presenting his hand to me. All I could do was make out the shape of the mint in the darkness. It was large, much bigger than any mint I’ve ever seen. And wide, it looked more like a pill than a mint.

“Just swallow,” Nathaniel said, sweet as a dream.

“I don’t chew it?” I asked.

“Whatever,” he said.

I reached for it. Footsteps and a white light made me stop.

“Nicole!” The voice said. His voice said. Nathaniel said, but from behind me. It was him, sweating, shaking, and hunched over. He sprayed the light on us both before bringing it back to himself.

“Nicole,” he said. “We need to run.”

“But you’re--,” I looked to the other Nathaniel.

“Just swallow the pill, Naomi.” The other Nathaniel said.

“I thought it was a mint.”

“Oops,” Other Nathaniel said.

I ran. Nathaniel followed. Other Nathaniel followed. The Other Nathaniel giggled as we giggled when we were alone. Same pitch. Same joy.

I couldn’t speak. Corn stalks whipped and clawed at me, like they were in on the chase, like they wanted this Other Nathaniel to catch me. My capture and beating would be their entertainment, my blood their drink, and whatever he left of me, their food. Mounds of uneven dirt made me stumble as if the Earth wanted to pull me down. I cried. I wasn’t built for this. I wasn’t built for any of this.

Seeing flashes of a Nathaniel in my peripheral and hearing the romantic mocking giggle right by my ear, I thought I was going to die. But lucky for me, I saw the house on McFinney Farm, and it was wide open.

I flooded in and slammed the door, locked it, and was left with whatever Nathaniel was with me. This one had a phone in his hand. But so did the other one at one point, I think, or maybe a flashlight.

Whatever Nathaniel I left outside beat on the door and begged to be let in. Leaning against the door, I locked eyes with the Nathaniel inside.

“It’s me,” he said. “I swear it’s me.”

“Prove it!” I said.

“Uh, uh, uh, I don’t know. Look at my eyes.”

He said, and I tried it. I looked him in the eyes and saw the innocence, how he was on the verge of tears.

It had to be him.

“Please, Naomi, let me in,” the voice on the outside said. Just as innocent and just as pitiful as Nathaniel on the inside said. I couldn’t take it. I ran through the house to get away.

My own reflection made me jump in front of a dusty, fat TV in the living room. I kept running, and I settled in the kitchen, if you could call anything in the moment settling.

Behind the dinning room table a glass door showed the dark and the cornfield. If the Nathaniel outside kept searching, he’d come by this, and I’d have to prevent him from coming in to his face or let him in. I’d cross that bridge eventually. I locked the glass door. Why was nothing locked in this house?

I could use some water, but a moldy smell poured from their refrigerator, so I certainly wasn’t going to get any from there. The faucet, maybe? The kitchen sink still had dishes in it, reeking of meat.

It didn’t matter. My mouth had never been so dry. The two Nathaniels screamed at each other near the front door. Still no way to tell them apart.

Water. I need water. I had the taste buds of a kid half my age. I always needed stuff flavored, but I’d drink mold-flavored water at this point.

I pulled up on the sink’s handle. Something rumbled in the pipes, reverberating in my hand. A sound like a splurge made its way through the faucet and… nothing. Not even a drop.

I put my eye to the faucet to see if anything was covering it. Nothing. I stepped back and groaned with anger, frustration, and fear, all bursting out.

The blur of movement brought my eyes to the glass door. Someone stood there. Someone naked. Someone with skin like scales. Its chest rose and fell as if it were furious and trying to hide its rage. It dragged a shining orange sword.

Orange, thick liquid leaked from its scales, which opened and closed like doors.

Down the hall at the front door, the Nathaniels went silent until one said.

“I think we can stop now.”

“You sure?” Nathaniel replied, his voice calm.

“Yes, he’s here.” The Other Nathaniel replied. I heard the unlocking of the front door, the slow, agonizing drag of that door opening and scraping the floor, and then, finally, footsteps coming in.

Two sets of footsteps walked toward me. The slimy thing outside waited.

I ran again. This time heading for the stairs. Loud. Loud. My panting echoed. The wooden steps creaked. The air grew thick with smells like perfume.

Where was Nathaniel? Where was Naomi?

At the top of the stairs, there were three doors. I dashed for the one in front of me. I opened the door to see a rotting skeleton with a few pieces of flesh on it lying in the bathroom. The smell assaulted me. I could taste death, grime, and rotten meat on my tongue.

I ran to the other door, and I considered opening it, but the stench of something metallic pulled me away. I went to the next one. Nicole and Nathaniel sat there. Nathaniel shielding Nicole and Nathaniel behind an old black Labrador.

But was it really them?

“Naomi,” I whispered.

Nathaniel pushed her back.

“Get away,” he said. He brought out a piece of glass from his bloodied hand and wielded it like a knife. “Get back.” He commanded with a shaky resilience.

The dog growled and wobbled to me with a slight limp. Unsure of where to go next, I stood still. The beast sniffed me. Then gave me a lick on my hand.

“I think that’s really her,” Naomi said. “Look how he’s acting toward her.”

Nathaniel lowered his knife.

“Nicole?” Nathaniel asked.

The dog walked behind me and out into the hallway. I followed.

The dog barked like a madman, growling and drooling and rising on its unsteady haunches.

Two Nathaniels flanked the creature; a nightmare assembled from leaking muscular triangles, its diamond-shaped head weeping orange, eyes reduced to focused slits. It dragged its sword up the floor.

“Beast,” the thing said. “You have brought another meal for us? Oh, little thing that you are, but how much you provide. You-”

The Labrador did not wait. With one great effort, it tore across one Nathaniel. Ripped off one of Nathaniel’s ankles and then tackled the demon. The demon raised its sword, but all three of us kids went for it, knocking it out of its hand.

We kept running. I don’t think the Labrador wanted us to stop. Knowing what I know now. I think the dog learned it was spreading that infection, that demon, to both its adopted families, and that’s why it went back to hide at McFinney’s farm. And that’s why it saved us, too. It finally had a chance at redemption.

We let the dog have his redemption and dashed out of the house. Wordless, breathless, and in the dark; sightless.

My legs hit something. I collapsed, then rolled. Something flew out of my pocket. My knee pained. It hurt to rise.

“Nicole!” I heard Naomi say.

“Right here, Naomi.” Someone said in a voice like mine.

No.

One white light flashed, revealing a face. Someone who looked just like me held their phone to their face like they were going to tell the craziest campfire story ever.

“Nathaniel! Naomi! Come over here!” My imposter said. They obeyed.

“Wait, no.” Too confused to explain. I didn’t know what to say.

“She’s the last one.” My imposter said. “She’s trying to bring you back with her to the house. Hang onto me.”

“No, no, wait.” Clumsily, I lunged forward for my sister, for my Nathaniel. A sharp sensation ran across my arm. Hot pain trailed it, and the feeling of blood leaving my body followed. I paused mid-lunge. Warm blood ran down my arm. For a moment, the light flashed, showing Nathaniel’s glass in his hand.

“Nathaniel?” I said. “You cut me?”

“Get back!”

I didn’t. His glass sliced close to my neck. A miss. A gentle breeze that could have killed me. I stepped back. He stomped toward me, invisible in the dark. Corn stalks crunched beneath his feet. His strike missed me and air-kissed my face. Again, he tried. The weapon slashed my hair. It split.

Nathaniel.

Why didn’t he recognize me? Didn’t I mean something to him?

Nathaniel pressed forward, aiming for my head, so I had to get back. There were words I could say, but what should I have said? “I’m real. I’m a person. Notice me.” If he couldn’t recognize that, how would words help?

The light from the house shone on us now. We were getting close to it. I held my hands up, ready to beg but speechless. I heard a dog whimper and a monster gargle inside. I didn’t want to go back in there. Could I come back out if he forced me in? Could I —

A howl exploded from the house and then something between a hiss and a whimper. My doppelganger stood still as a tombstone. Then she sprinted away from us in the cornfield.

Dashing footsteps shot out of the house behind us. Before we understood what was happening, the Nathaniel copies raced toward us, then past us, back to the cornfield.

Gone.

We stood in silence, listening to their footsteps melt into the cornfield and their bodies rustling, getting lost in the mass.

From the house, something came out. The Labrador with the arm of that strange creature.

Apologies were said in the dark and accepted then, and maybe meant. But what’s done in the dark is frightening in the light. How could things ever go back to normal? How could Nathaniel and I ever go back to normal?

We walked back home. The Labrador limped by our side.

I left McFinney Farm with the group but alone. I knew there was no one I could trust now.

However, after years of no contact, Nathaniel has reached out to let me know that McFinney Farm isn’t done with us.