Ivy whipped around and glared at them both. “Were you two born in a barn? Knock it off.”
Molly looked sheepish while Xavier sighed loudly and sank down in his seat once again. A few minutes of blissful silence followed until Gabriel pulled into a gas station. Xavier couldn’t get out of the car fast enough and vanished inside, almost before my brother cut the engine. I considered following him, but I knew he was only going to fill in the time sulkily inspecting packs of gum and dated magazines until it was time to pile back into the car. Molly threw him a dirty look as she trotted off to find the restrooms.
I followed as my siblings made their way over to a man in oil-stained overalls, squinting beneath the hood of a rusted pickup truck. I noticed that beneath the smudges of grease on his face he had a twinkle in his eye and a cheerful demeanor. He was chewing tobacco and an old Hank Williams tune crackled from a portable radio nearby.
“Hello,” Ivy introduced herself. “It’s beautiful weather you’re having.”
“Hi there,” the man replied, dropping his tools to give Ivy his undivided attention. “Sure is.” He thought about shaking her hand, but reconsidered when he glanced down at his grime-caked fingernails. Up close, he had gentle blue eyes and a crooked smile. “How do you do?” His husky voice was made melodic by his flowing Southern accent. It was beautiful to listen to and of all the voices in the world I thought none sounded quite so musical.
“What’s your name?” Gabriel asked and Ivy shot him a look. His way of skipping over small talk sometimes made his style of conversation sound like a flat-out interrogation.
“Earl,” the man replied, wiping a hand across his brow. “How can I help you?”
“We’re looking for the Abbey of Mary Immaculate in Fairhope County,” Ivy told him. “Do you know it?”
“I sure do, ma’am. It’s near on seventy miles from here.”
Xavier, who had sauntered out of the shop to join the discussion, did a quick mental calculation and sighed.
“Great,” he muttered. “That’s another hour on the road.”
Ivy gave him a dismissive glance. “Is there a place to stay near the abbey?”
“There’s a motel on the highway,” said Earl. He looked Ivy up and down from her fawn trench coat and riding boots to her immaculately groomed blond hair. “It’s none too flashy though.”
“That’s not a problem,” my sister said demurely. “Can you tell us anything about the abbey itself?
Earl cleared his throat softly and averted his gaze, which immediately drew Gabriel’s attention.
“We would be very much obliged if you could tell us what you know,” my brother said in a voice suddenly full of charm. It had the usual hypnotic effect.
“Yeah, I know a thing or two ’bout that place,” Earl said hesitantly. “But I ain’t sure you wanna know.”
My brother and sister leaned forward eagerly.
“Trust us,” Ivy encouraged, flashing the man a smile that made him wobble on his feet. “We’d appreciate anything you can tell us. We haven’t been able to find out much ourselves.”
“That’s ’cuz everythin’s been locked up there for a spell,” Earl said, mopping his brow again.
“What do you mean?” Ivy frowned.
“When you work at a gas station for a livin’ you hear things,” Earl continued in a conspiratorial voice. “A lot of folk come through here and they talk. I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but I sometimes hear things without meanin’ to. That abbey you’re talkin’ about — I got a bad feeling about it. Something ain’t right there.”
“What makes you say that?” Gabriel pressed, his voice low and intense.
“It used to be a real nice place,” Earl continued. “We used to see the sisters ’round town all the time, visitin’ folk and teachin’ Sunday school. But ’bout two months ago we had a nasty lightnin’ storm, worse than we ever seen. After that, the sisters didn’t come out no more. They said one of them fell sick from the storm and couldn’t be disturbed so they shut themselves up inside the abbey. Not a soul’s been in or out since.”
“How could a lightning storm make anyone sick?” Xavier asked. “That’s not possible, unless the woman was physically struck by lightning.”
“Sure, it don’t make a lick of sense,” Earl replied, shaking his head sadly. “But I drove past the abbey one night when I was a makin’ a delivery out that way. I tell you, ain’t nothing natural ’bout what I saw.”
“Can you tell us what you saw?” Gabriel had stiffened and his expression told me he already knew the answer and he didn’t like it.
“Well.” Earl frowned and looked embarrassed as if the others might be on the verge of questioning his sanity. “I was headin’ back into town when I passed by the place and I thought I heard someone screamin’, only it didn’t sound like no noise a human could make. It was a howlin’ like some kind of wild animal. So, I got out of my car, wonderin’ if I should call the sheriff and I saw all the top floor windows had been boarded up and there was scratches on the front porch like somethin’ was tryin’ to get in … or out.”
Ivy twisted her head to look at Gabriel. “He could have warned us,” she said in a low voice and I knew she was talking about Michael. “We are underprepared for this.” I saw her gaze fall on Molly, who was applying a coat of lip gloss, using the car window as a mirror.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to alarm you,” Earl added as an afterthought. “I might just been an old coot losin’ his mind.”
“No, I’m glad you told us,” Ivy said. “At least we know what to expect.”
“Perhaps you can help us with one more thing,” Gabriel said gravely. “The sister who fell ill on the night of the storm … what was her name?”
“I believe it was Sister Mary Clare,” Earl said solemnly. “Shame — she was a real nice one too.”
THE rest of the trip was more subdued as Gabriel made his way to the motel. Even I knew they couldn’t barge into the abbey guns blazing until they’d thought of a strategic plan of action. To Ivy and Gabriel the source of disruption at the abbey was painfully clear, but Molly’s and Xavier’s confusion showed on their faces.
The motel was called the Easy Stay Inn and was situated just off the main highway, too far from the township to attract many tourists. As a result it was fairly shabby and badly in need of some maintenance. The parking lot was empty and the neon sign only flashed every few minutes, the rest of the time emitting a whining, static hum. The brown bricks had been painted white, but exposure to the elements had left them peeling and weathered. Inside the motel was only a small improvement, with dark paneled walls and brown carpet. A TV was blaring in one corner and a woman sat behind the reception desk, painting her nails and snickering at a Jerry Springer rerun. She was so stunned by the group’s arrival she spilled her nail polish, but recovered quickly and stood up to greet the visitors. She wore tight stonewashed-denim jeans and a tank top. Her red hair was curly and scraped away from her face with a floral headband. Up close, I saw that she was older than she first appeared. A crookedly pinned name tag told us her name was Denise.
“Can I help you?” she asked uncertainly, clearly thinking they had lost their way and were looking for directions. My brother and sister stepped forward to deal with the formalities. I realized how they must look; like a golden couple, too perfect to be real. I had to admit the four of them looked strangely out of place in this setting. They stood close together, forming a secure unit, like a barricade against the rest of the world. It struck me that Xavier was starting to act more and more like one of us. He used to be more relaxed in the company of people, interacting with them easily, charming them as if it were second nature. Now he looked detached and reserved; every so often a frown creased his brow as though he were agitated by something unseen. My family had all made an effort to dress like average travelers, Gabriel and Xavier in dark jeans and black T-shirts and Ivy in her fawn trench coat. They all wore dark sunglasses to keep from drawing attention. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. The woman behind the desk stared at them as though she had suddenly found herself in the company of some rather gloomy film stars.