The Loveridge family is sponsoring Isabelle’s transition fromthe asylum to regular life—offering her housing and assistance with findingemployment. The sponsorship was one of the contingencies of Faust letting hergo. Before Isabelle’s departure, I slipped my grandmother’s silver braceletinto her hand—a gift commemorating baby Olive’s arrival into the world. Shouldthings take a bad turn, and I never see Isabelle again, she can trade thebracelet for cash, and use the funds to care for the child.
Now that Izzie and Ollie are free, we can move forward. HershelWatts has agreed to help Anna escape if I give him the ruby necklace. The planseems risky, but he assures us it will succeed. This isn’t much comfort, sinceWatts is the mind behind the plan itself. He has also upped the ante, demandingmore compensation if I escape as well. I hope to go with Anna, but that hingesupon whether I obtain the Book beforehand.
With Gabriel condemned to hang in a week, I cannot wait forKelly to come back. I have no idea when that will be. Watts’ greed, however, isa sure bet. The price for my freedom? Two small pearl earrings. The last of myloot.
But what if we’re caught or punished? What if Hershel fails?
Time passes as I fetch kindling and restock the firewood on themain floor. Then the dinner bell clangs, and I make my way into the dining hallwithout giving my appearance, or hygiene, a second thought. I don’t have escortsanymore—the asylum guards only come for me if I have a session with Faust.Otherwise, I am expected to show up for chores and meals on my own.
Ironwood has become familiar. I am accustomed to the layout ofthe place, the smells, the spoiled food, the brutal behavior of its occupants. Withone hand extended, I keep next to the wall, measuring the distance before me.Twenty feet to the dining hall entrance. Eighteen. Twelve. Seven.
I cross the threshold and find the end of the serving line,waiting for my portion of the usual midday fare. There’s the wet plop of barleystew hitting my tin plate. With a spoon in my hand, nothing extra is requiredfor consumption of the stew but the will of iron to eat it. I find atable and sit down. The air is musky with body odor, which doesn’t helpanyone’s appetite. Certainly not mine. Anna is too busy to join me. She hasextra laundry to clean due to Miss Honeycutt’s forthcoming visit. I divert mybrain from listening to my taste buds complain about the stew and analyze Hershel’sroute for our departure.
He and Roy just cleared the weeds that grow in the irrigationcanal on the north side of the property. It must be done before the gardeners openthe spillway from the lake and use the canal to water crops the asylum sells togrocers in Ironwood City. Even with the cold weather, they hope to plant rowsof spinach and green peas soon. Nutrition-rich foods the inmates help thegardeners tend but will never eat, planted only to benefit Faust’s already fatwallet. Nearly as deep as Hershel is tall, the clean canal bottom is hiddenfrom the asylum windows, even the guards in the watchtower can’t see it.
My thoughts are interrupted when I gag after trying to swallowthe last bite. After wiping my mouth, I exhale slowly, forcing my stomach torelax. Fortunately, the nausea passes, and I pick up the puzzle once more. AsWatts suggested, Anna and I will use the north exit tonight and climb down intothe irrigation canal. We will follow it to the edge of the property, to theasylum wall. This is the end of Hershel’s involvement. He knows nothing beyondthe door, canal, and wall. Doesn’t want to know, either. Evidently, barteredjewels carry no guarantee of good service these days.
Anna’s son is made of entirely different cloth than Hershel.Already in town to pick up Isabelle and Olive, he will throw a rope ladderacross the stone barricade and we will climb up and over. The three of us willdash to Ironwood City, meet Isabelle at the hotel, and separate for our variousdestinations. Anna, her son, Isabelle, and Olive are bound for Denver. I shalltake a train to Stonehenge.
It might just work. If the stars are aligned and the gods areon our side. Sweaty and hot, I reach down to my boot and remove the pencil andpaper. My corner of the dining hall is quiet, but the rest of the room isfilled with movement and noise. Sickness descends upon me again. Trembling, Iplace the smooth, clean paper on the bench and write a line. Davis willtransport this message when he takes the supper tray to the Pit. He’s deliveredseveral of them already.
DON’T GIVE UP, GABRIEL. DO NOT DESPAIR.
It’s medication time for the Incurables Unit. I sit in acorner of the stairwell, squeezed into a tiny nook beneath the landing—where,hopefully, no one can see me. Sweat streams down my face and neck, but I shiverand rub my arms for warmth. Heart pounding, I count off the seconds in my head.Time passes quickly when there is little to waste. Missing from my work detail,I could be found and punished at any moment.
I listen to Matron advising a novice employee. She’s a youngthing just arrived to replace Margaret Hotchkiss.
“Be organized and efficient,” Matron intones. “Prompt, precise.The entire staff is only as good as it’s weakest member, my dear.”
Then Matron, or as I like to call her, Lucifer’s Concubine, leavesthe new nurse to carry on and walks directly toward my hiding place. Frantic, Itry to make myself even smaller and pray I escape her notice. She passes by meand climbs the stairs to the third floor, rose attar blooming behind her. Ifinally exhale, weak and shivery.
Fifteen minutes, that’s all I have until Titus returns from hissmoke break.
