The Legend of Peg Powler
(A Sewing Box Mystery)
Chapter 1: Friday, November 1, 1991, 1:51 am
Chapter 2: Saturday October 29, 2011, 11:37 am
Chapter 3: Sunday October 30, 2011, 10:30 am
Chapter 4, Monday, October 31, 2012, 8:01 am, Halloween
Chapter 13: Monday, October 31, 2011, 11:02 am
Chapter 17 - Monday, October 31, 2011, 12:43 pm
Chapter 27 - Monday, October 31, 2011, 7:12 pm
“What a thing to say…”
It was Jeanette, who’d snuck up behind Missy and was now standing behind her.
“It’s true,” Donna said, her gaze steady, “I heard it with my own ears.”
“From whom?”
“Them!” Donna’s eyes, angry at the thought, returned to the wind shield before checking the passenger side mirror. “Pastor John and his lot.”
The night had now descended all around them as a waxing moon was on the rise. Missy desperately wanted to go home, but something was keeping her in place. Maybe it was Donna’s anxiousness. It must be hard having a sister in a cult, but, still, that didn’t quite explain Donna’s involvement.
As if reading Missy’s thoughts, Donna volunteered, “I’m not one of them. Not really. I joined up in order to keep an eye on my sister. I didn’t want her to get in any trouble. And I thought I’d be able to open her eyes and get her to break away from the group.” She then admitted, “It hasn’t worked out very well.” Looking directly at Missy, she continued, “I love my sister. I’d do anything for her. She wasn’t always like this. It’s just been since her no-good husband left and divorced her; she changed. Got all radical. There’s no reasoning with her sometimes. That Pastor John has her head all twisted up. But this? Tonight? This is crazy stuff. And I need your help to put a stop to it.”
“But why us? What makes you think we can stop it?” Jeanette was right. She and Missy were outsiders. They wouldn’t listen to them. What could they possibly do or say to make a difference?
Donna’s mouth gaped open. She had no answer for that. But then something clicked inside her head, “You put right that situation with the Arneson kid. Got to the bottom of it. When you walked into Pearl’s today? I felt like it was an answer to a prayer. You did it before. You need to do it now. You need to make this right, or someone is going to lose their life.”
“Okay, you keep saying that…” Jeanette was clearly not anywhere close to the fence on this. “What makes you so sure someone is in danger?”
This last statement struck a cord in Missy’s head. She turned to Jeanette, “Look. We need to do this.”
“Oh, hell no. Missy! She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” She looked at her niece like she was insane and then got mad. “Missy! You’re not serious!”
“But I am… I am!” Missy gathered her thoughts before making her argument, “Think. Think about all that we learned today - about this date, in this town.” Before Jeanette could counter, she cut her off, “It’s every twenty years, Jeanette. Every twenty years. And that’s tonight. Don’t you see? We’ve no choice. We have to see this through.”
“See what through?” Dorie had gotten out of the car and was now standing behind them. Both Jeanette and Missy ignored her question.
“But why us? Why not just hand it off to Sheriff Paul? I mean, if there’s trouble - big ‘if’ - then it’ll end up in his hands eventually anyway.”
“But he has no integrity.”
“He’s the law!”
“Then the law has no integrity.” Missy paused, before adding, “But you do.”
“What?”
“In there,” Missy pointed to the Sleep Inn. “In there, I heard you. You stood up for what was right. Jeanette, I don’t know why I feel this way, but this? This is right, too.” Missy steeled herself. It was make or break time. “I’m doing this.” She tried to gauge her aunt’s reaction. “I’m staying. I’m going to whatever it is this thing turns out to be tonight. You? You can head back to Minneapolis. But without me. I? I have to see this through.”
Without making a sound, Jeanette grimaced, put her hands in her pockets and then turned her attention to her right shoe whose heel was digging a dent in the ground.
Missy continued to plead her case. “This is the reason I came here. This is the reason Grandma hid that poem… for me to find. For us to do something.”
“What are you talking about? Where are we going?” Dorie remained clueless.
“No where,” said Jeanette, pragmatically, like a parent talking to a child. “You’re going no where. You’re going to sit in the car and stay out of it.”
“But that’s not fair,” whined Dorie.
“Fair?” spit Jeanette. “You want to talk about fair? This? This was supposed to be a day trip. A day trip, Dorie. And, not to point out the obvious, but it is now night. And am I at the frickin’ Halloween party which I have been talking about going to all day? No. I’m here. And now it looks like I’m going to be traipsing around the woods in the mistaken belief that I can make a difference and prevent something - something which I don’t know what it is - but which I’m going to try to stop from happening. How’s that for fair, Dorie?”
“Fine.” Unsure what was up, Dorie appeared to make the wise decision to take the softer path. “Whatever. Guess I’ve caused enough trouble today.”
Jeanette then turned to Missy. “And what’s the plan, here, huh? Weapons? Do we need weapons? Or are we simply walking in there like we’re the saviors from Minneapolis?”
Missy had already thought about this. “Let’s go. Assess the situation. If there’s anything we can do that will make a difference, we’ll do it. We won’t put ourselves in danger. We won’t risk being injured or hurt in any way.”
Jeanette laughed harshly. “Oh, I’ve heard that one before…”
“Please.”
“Oh, spare me,” groused Jeanette. “The boat’s sailing and I’m already tied to the frickin’ mast.” She then turned to Donna. “Okay. Where? Where are we going?”
“The golden field, down by the riverbank. Do you know it?”
Missy and Jeannette exchanged a look. “I think so,” said Missy tentatively. “I think we were there today. Can we follow you?”
“Sure,” said Donna, as she got out of the truck. She grabbed Jeanette by both shoulders. “Thank you. Thank you for doing this.” She then hustled to the back of the trailer. “You’re going to need to wear something to blend in. I’ve got a few extra in the back, here. Some of the members? When they found out about what might happen tonight they decided to stay home.” The woman opened the silver trailer. Inside were two rows of hooded robes woolen robes. Missy knew what they were because they were very similar to what the brothers at the monastery wore. The woman grabbed two and handed one to Missy and one to Jeanette. “Don’t worry. One size fits all. And they have Velcro in the front to keep ‘em closed.”
“We’ll need three.” It was Dorie.
Jeanette started to speak, “I thought we agreed…”
But Dorie cut her off. “Oops. Changed my mind.” She moved past her sister and daughter and grabbed a robe for herself. “Besides, if you think I’m going sit all alone in the car, all by myself while the two of you run around the woods getting into who knows what, you’ve got another thing coming.”
“No. You’re going to do as I say…”
“Hey! Ladies!” It was Donna. “Really grateful you want to help. And sorry to interrupt your little family drama, but gals, we are running out of time. As far as they know, I am already on my way. There are people waiting on these robes and if I don’t get there soon, they are going to start getting suspicious.” She slammed the trailer doors closed, putting the pull-down lock in place. “So, if you’re coming, come now, or forever hold your piece.” With that, she got in the cab of the truck and started the engine.
Robes in hand, the three women looked at each other. If this was to happen, then they needed to to do it together, come what may. Without another word between them, they slipped on their robes, secured the Velcro, got in the car and followed Donna out to the golden field.
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Parking was now at a premium. Where had all these people come from? For there seemed to be more vehicles parked along both sides of the road than there were people St. Petersburgh. Did people actually come from miles around for whatever this event was?
As Missy eased her car into an available space about ten yards north of the driveway, Donna’s truck and trailer disappeared down that same driveway, the one where Ray Tollefson had parked his truck earlier.
Once out of the car, they huddled at it’s front, hoods up, to cover their faces. The sliver of moon sitting low in the sky provided just enough light to make out the shapes walking about. People were walking toward the field, their way guided by powerful flashlights which cut through the night like laser beams. Between them, the three women had only three sources of light - one was the light on Missy’s cell phone which still had a 67% charge left; the second, a comparatively weak common household flashlight which had come with an emergency road kit Jeanette had once given Missy for Christmas; and the third being the small penlight key chain Jeanette always had with her. It wasn’t much, but it was all they had. To conserve their battery life, they waited until someone passed with a more powerful flashlight and then fell into step with them.
Walking through the pitch black forest, the streams of light from the collective flashlights made Missy think of the scenes in movies where the F.B.I. or some federal agency combs a woods at night looking for a lost soul, which,when she thought about, is exactly what they’d come to do. With a sense of excitement building, she reminded herself that she had to keep a cool head. Halfway through the forest, she felt two hands take hers - her mother on one side, her aunt on the other. That gesture meant a lot. It felt as if they would see this through, that they were stronger together.
As they approached the opening to the field, a glistening shimmer took hold, banishing the darkness they’d just come through. The light of the moon lent the tall, dried grass a silvery stillness, as one by one, people doused their flashlights. Still moving in silence, the robbed figures began gathering in a circle around the perimeter of the field, their outlines quickly blending in with the tall, dense mass of trees which stood behind them like impenetrable fortress walls.
Missy clenched both the hands held in hers, indicating that they all three should halt. She decided the best vantage point would be with their back to the entrance to the forest, especially in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
She scanned their surroundings. Given the identical robes everyone wore and with the hoods up, there was no way for her to locate Donna, or her sister, or Hedda, for that matter. Had she not walked in hand-in-hand with Jeanette and Dorie , she very much doubted she’d had been able to find them in the crowd. Without Donna, Missy had no idea what to do or expect, so she stood as still and quiet as possible. Jeanette and Dorie did the same.
At the far end of the field, with the riverbank a good fifteen yards beyond it, stood an old hay wagon, serving as a makeshift stage. At it’s center was Pastor John. Pacing back and forth, illuminated by only the light of the moon, his silhouette gave one the impression of an animal gearing up to attack. Once the circle around the perimeter closed and was completed, he stopped, mid-stage, throwing his body open, his arms wide. In his right hand he held a book. At the same time, four high-powered flashlights pierced the night, lighting him up like a rock star. Except he wasn’t. Not at all. He looked more like a homeless person in need of a shave and a change of clothing. It was the beard that was the most off-putting. Dressed all in black, thin as a rail, the beard bloomed out of the bottom of his chin like a big, bushy dirt catcher. Missy reasoned, it was probably best they were standing so far back.
“Brothers and sisters…”the man declared, “We are gathered here tonight, just as our ancestors have gathered here through the decades. We have come together, as a community, before God, in order to put right what has gone astray. For a community is only as strong as its individual members and, therefore, we must move to strike out, to smite, to eliminate that which threatens the purity of our community in the eyes of God.”
The circle of people began to ever-so-slightly sway as Pastor John continued. After a time, Missy came to realize they were humming something… a hymn?
Pastor John continued, “for we, of the opus dei, have been chosen, chosen by God to mete out justice here on earth - doing good works, his work, in his name.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ,”murmured Jeanette, under her breath.
“But those who come against him, those who defy his laws, they mean to destroy us, not outright, not in the form of a physical assault or a tearing down of the temple which is our community, but in more subtle, evil ways - by defying the laws of God, by defiling the temple of our community, by tainting the purity of our world with their wickedness.”
Pastor John was working himself up, churning the energy, engaging those gathered, with the skill of a seasoned carnival barker. But selling his special brand of snake oil was clearly not the only thing on the agenda tonight.
“But we shall not stand idly by and allow this evil to multiply within our midst. We will not sit on our hands, while others become the devil’s playground, committing despicable acts of vulgarity, perversion and deprivation. Woe is they that dare rob our community of the light of the lord, who dare tarnish us in the eyes of God. This we cannot and will not allow. We will rise up against it. We will cast it out from our community. We will not tolerate it. We will not abide. We will not allow such sin to go unanswered, unchallenged, unpunished.”
It was at this point that Missy noticed a bustling to the left side of the stage. Two robed figures appeared, between them, an additional figure with what appeared to be a hood or pillow case over their head. Two additional flashlights hit the trio as they stepped forward, revealing that the figure in the middle was a woman, wearing a cornflower blue dress. As Pastor John droned on, the robed figures dragged the woman, who was trailing her feet behind her as if drugged or unconscious, to the center of the circle.
“And so we now bring before you, one such unholy aberration, one such abomination. A sinner who means to bring into our midst one who is unclean, un-blessed, a child conceived outside of the holy sanction of matrimony. For she hath laid down with a man in sin and degradation, and so we must all render our judgement as a community and condemn both mother and child. Say it with me now... This shall not stand!”
Members in the circle dutifully parroted Pastor John, matching his fervor note for note. “This shall not stand!” Clearly, bloodlust was in the air.
“This shall not go unanswered.”
“This shall not go unanswered.” The circle began to tighten, as the members took a step forward.
“This shall not go unchallenged.”
“This shall not go unchallenged.” Some members of the crowd began to bounce up and down in place, their glee resounding in their voices.
“This shall not go unpunished!”
“This shall not go unpunished!”
It was all repeated again and again, picking up speed and intensity with each recitation.
And then with the flourish of a game show host, Pastor John directed the crowd’s attention to the center of the ring. “Anointed brothers of the inner circle of opus dei, I now command you to reveal the sinner in our midst, the blasphemer, the wanton, the unwashed.”
One of the robed figures reached over and pulled the hood from the woman’s head as the flashlights died on Pastor John, placing sole focus on the face of the one revealed.
It was Darlene!
From City Hall.
The woman engaged to be married to Peter and carrying his baby.
She was met with a roar from the crowd which was met with no reaction on her part.
Then, the robed figures on either side of her, forced Darlene, whose head was slack, her eyes closed, down to her knees. If she had any cognitive sense of what was going on around her, her body revealed no sign.
Pastor John’s voice, at fever pitch, boomed forth from the darkness, “And now in the name of the father, and the son and the holy spirit, we condemn you and those like you.”
“Harlot!” shouted someone in the crowd, which was now inching ever closer.
“We cast you out. We judge you, and have found you guilty, guilty of sin, guilty of lust, guilty of conspiring with the devil…”
Missy’s mind raced. She looked to Jeanette and then to her mother for some kind of answer, but the lack of light and the hoods on their heads prevented her from reading their faces. There must be something they could do. Should do.
“...in the hopes of bringing down our fine community to your low, sick level. To make us wallow like pigs, with you, in a pit of unending misery. To make us seem unworthy in the eyes of our lord and savior. You - you have committed the greatest of sins, for you have gone against his teachings, defied his will, defiled our most blessed of temples.”
Suddenly the high-beam flashlights returned to bring the crowd’s attention to the hay wagon and Pastor John.
As his arms began to rise up dramatically slowly, those in the circle began to chant, “This shall not stand. This shall not stand…” Soon they were all hopping up and down like teens at a music concert.
Picking up in pace, energy and volume, Pastor John intoned over them, “And now we raise the rock. Now we raise the rock,” which gradually replaced “This shall not stand,” as the crowd’s chosen mantra. Again, the crowd moved forward, tightening the circle at a slow, deliberate pace. Missy could feel it; something was about to happen.
Missy gasped as she saw those in the crowd also slowly raise up their arms. In their fists, rocks and stones! She looked around and behind her for some kind of support, but all she could see were three dark cloaked figures standing behind her on the right side of the prairie. They stood apart, as if opting out of this part of the ceremony, but then they were also too far away to help intervene.
And just like that, a thought burst into Missy’s head: fight superstition with superstition!
Inhaling deeply, she looked up to the pitiless night sky, and with all the strength and volume she could summon she yelled, “Peggy Powler!” She kept on screaming the name, and soon Jeanette and Dorie were doing the same. And within seconds, three voices from the right of the edge of the field also chimed in.
From the other side of the prairie came the voice of Pastor John… “Let the stoning begin…”
Grabbing her mother and aunt’s hands, while still yelling at the top of her lungs, Missy began moving toward the middle of the crowd. “My baby, our babies! Peggy Powler has our babies…” Dorie and Jeanette took up the new cry as well, sowing confusion among those about to throw stones. However, their disruption had not yet reached the other side of the circle.
As the first stones struck with a sickening thud, Missy swore she could hear the crack of bones, the bruising of flesh. Determined to have as much impact as possible, she blundered blindly forward. Feeling somewhat protected by the thickness of the robe, she hunched over and ran forth, letting go of Jeanette and Dorie’s hands in the process. As she broke through the group’s center, moving on to its opposite side, a stone grazed her thigh. Then another struck the back of her head, but thanks to the fabric of the woolen robe, the stone only managed to do as much damage as bumping one’s head on the edge of a cupboard door; yes, it hurt, but she’d live. Darlene on the other hand…
Missy fought the urge to lie down and protect Darlene, realizing that doing so would probably not change the outcome. Her only hope, she believed, was to distract the raging mob and lead them…
Where?
…to the riverbank!
Having reached the other side of the circle, she continued to cry out. Gradually, more and more people paused to hear her, as some began to actually move toward her. “We have to stop her. Peggy Powler. She has my baby. At the river. The river!”
Jeanette and Dorie had drifted to the sides of the circle, waving their arms and yelling, as well, pointing in the direction of the river.
Seeing that the focus of the crowd was changing, Pastor John screamed, “No, no… the stoning. Sins must be paid for! Sins must be atoned for.” His two henchmen, the one’s who had previously held Darlene’s comatose self aloft, made a move towards Missy. Recognizing this, she realized it was now or never. Praying that the crowd’s attention was now more on her and her mother and aunt, Missy began to run down the main path toward the riverbank.
The hay wagon Pastor John was standing on was just to the left of the path and as she approached, Pastor John jumped down from the wagon in an effort to stop her. But his timing was off and since he was, in reality, a smaller man who didn’t weigh much, he proved no match for Missy’s mass moving at high speed. Adrenaline pumping, Missy simply stuck out her left arm and clothes-lined the man, striking him right across his collar bones and successfully knocking the man flat on his back. The momentum created by this action caused her body to spin about. And for a brief millisecond, she felt time slow and was able to take it all in. To her right and left, Dorie and Jeanette were leading packs of people her direction, while the numbers of those directly behind her also swelled. As she was reeling back to the right, in order to turn around, out of the corner of her eye she thought she caught sight of the three cloaked figures which had taken up her initial cry of “Peggy Powler” while standing on the field’s outer edge. They were now moving toward the center of the field and, while cloaked, it was apparent they weren’t wearing the same woolen robes as Pastor John’s crew. Theirs were silkier, more lightweight, rippling in the night breeze as they moved forward.
Completing her turnabout, Missy lost sight of those behind her, though she could still feel and hear the rush of energy moving over her back. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Now, there was no time or oxygen for words. Fear gripped her throat as she tore past the ever sparser dormant vegetation which lined the riverbank. She felt her pace slow the tiniest bit once her feet struck the damp, clay-like ground. The closer she got to the actual river, the more light there seemed to be. The little moonlight there had been, now seemed magnified, mirrored on the surface of the rolling river.
As the sporadic plant life gave way to the actual riverbank, Missy stopped dead in her tracks. It was perfect and better than expected. Breathing heavily, she stood and pointed toward the river - her hand extending from the bell of her robe’s sleeve, looking for all the world like a grim reaper pointing the fickle finger of fate.
“The shoes! The shoes!”
There, on the shoreline, still as neatly lined up as the moment Ray Tollefson had first placed them…
Three pairs of shoes.
Small; those of children!
The light of the moon, off the surface of the river, lit them magnificently.
Behind her, the crowd came to a sudden, silent standstill.
Soon Dorie and Jeanette were standing on either side of her. In that moment, Missy wished she had told the two of them to stay behind and see to Darlene. But she held that thought for a mere second, for the crowd had begun to murmur. A murmur which quickly grew to a rageful wail, as people began rushing forward, toward the riverbank, toward the shoes. The three women quickly found themselves swept up in the angry mob, their bodies pushed and pulled forward by the onslaught of the mass of people.
Initially, Missy was facing the direction of the prairie, but soon found herself turned around. She quickly lost sight of Jeanette and Dorie. What was happening? Next thing she knew she was facing the river, having been pushed beyond the shoes, now mere inches from the rushing water’s rough edge. And then…
She felt a hard push.
In the middle of her back.
It felt purposeful…
It felt like betrayal.
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1 comment:
OMG
The Opus Dei? Danger, Will Robinson!
Holy shit. And now they're in the middle of it all....!
XOXO
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