I yelped and jumped forward at the crunching split of the wood underneath our feet.
"What the fuck-" Indigo exclaimed, whirling around, pulling me half behind him.
I peeked around his shoulder and standing there, nearly bent in half with age, was an old liverspotted man. We was bald with a soft, but thin frame dressed in overalls and a stained under-shirt with no shoes on his feet. He had skin the color of the bark that falls of oak trees. He lifted his arm up and that's when I noticed the second axe.
"What the hell you's doing on my property?" he rasped out in a smokey hurt-your-ears, send-shivers-up-your-spine type of voice.
Indigo eyes the axe and raised his hands in surrender. "Hey now - hey, take it easy," Indigo soothed, "We're not here to cause trouble. We're just looking for a Mister Ryland."
"The old man humphed. "I'm Mister Ryland. What the hell do you want?" the old man - Mister Ryland - demanded, axe blade resting against his shoulder still prepared to throw.
Indigo looked at me helplessly, shrugging his shoulders.
"We want to know what happened to Zula Ryland," I called out, still hidden behind Indigo's shoulder.
"Zula?" Mister Ryland's shoulders slumped and the axe slid off with a resounding thump! "My God, I haven't heard that name in years." He swallowed around the words like they tasted bitter.
He looked at me carefully, leaning to the right to peer at me around Indigo. "Where'd you hear that name."
I kept my eyes trained on the axe nearest to us, in case Mister Ryland decided to attack again. "I found a picture in my Grammie's things of you with your sister."
"And who's your Grammie?" Mister Ryland drawled, studying my face.
"Iris Fletch."
Mister Ryland gaped at me. "You'se related to little Iris Fletch?"
I nodded, hesitantly. I couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing.
"Well slap my ass and call me a newborn, the grandbaby of Irie Fletch!" He clapped his hands together, once, in a booming clap, "Why didn't you say so? Come on in, let me fix you up a cup of lemonade."
I traded a look with Indigo. This guy went from throwing axes at us to making us lemonade? I wondered what else would set him off.
Mister Ryland stumbled past us, limping up the stairs to his house. He threw open the door and nodded at us to sit on the rocking chairs pushed against the house on the porch. Indigo and I traded a look and hesitantly sat down, the chairs creaking underneath us.
"Why are we here?" Indigo whispered to me as soon as Mister Ryland entered his house.
I kept an eye on the chickens as I answered. I hated birds. "Miss Ryland owns the plantation."
Indigo frowned. "Then why aren't we talking to her?"
I turned to look at him, my mouth drawn up tight. "Because I've lived in this town for all my life and I have never, ever heard of a Miss Ryland."
"Never?"
I shook my head. "Never. I've never even heard of a Ryland family until last night when I was searching for them."
Indigo's forehead creased. "What did you find?"
I sighed and my head tilted back almost on its own. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was a record saying she owned the land, but nothing else. No school transcripts, no business records, hell no housing deeds even!"
"Then how did you find Mister Ryland?" Indigo was staring at me seriously, his eyes narrowed on my face like he was trying to see if I was lying.
I looked down at my hands on my lap. "Grammie."
Indigo gaped at me, incredibility written all over his face. "You asked your grandmother?"
I quickly shook my head. "No!"
"Did you tell her about the investigation?" Indigo demanded.
"Of course not!" Hurt filled my chest. "I wouldn't do that without asking you first."
"Then how did you-"
"Because I looked through her old photo books!" I interrupted, exasperated. I shook my head, "Honestly, Indigo. Do you really think I'm that callous?"
"No, that's not what I meant-"
"Then what did you mean, Indigo? Because it sounds like to me that you don't trust me."
Around us the chickens clucked, almost as if accenting my point. Indigo, at least, had the good manners to look sheepish.
"Lavender, I didn't mean it like that and you know it. I just meant that I don't feel comfortable with people I don't trust knowing about what we're doing. Especially since the police department seems to be against us."
I leaned away from him, glaring the entire time. "You don't trust my Grammie?"
Indigo didn't say anything and that said it all.
I stood, disgust weeping through me. "I can't believe you! You don't trust my only family?"
Indigo also stood up. "Do you?"
I froze for a moment, then waved the question off. "That doesn't matter."
He snorted. "Of course it does! Lavender. Do. You. Trust. Her?"
I didn't say anything for a long time. My hair fell in front of my eyes and I looked away. Shame coursed through my body.
"I want to."
Indigo smiled sadly at me. "That's not the same thing."
He was right, I knew that. But that didn't mean I couldn't resent him for it.
I sat back down and looked away. After a moment, Indigo also sat. Soon enough Mister Ryland came back out carrying a depression glass green pitcher out with him and three mismatching cups.
"Lord, if I knew I was going to be getting some company today I'd have cleaned up some."
Indigo and I smiled politely back. Mister Ryland slowly and carefully lowered himself down into the chair, groaning the entire time. He rubbed his knuckles and joints after he was seated like they were bothering him. I frowned. What was wrong with him?
Mister Ryland must've seen my face because he explained, "Just old age. I know folks in Nowhere don't much ache as they age but out here we do."
I stared at him with my mouth open, horrified. People were in pain as they grew old? How? Why?
I was going to ask him such questions myself but Indigo nudged me and I remembered my manners.
Clearing my throat I asked instead, "Is your sister around here somewhere?'
Mister Ryland snorted. "Not likely."
"Do you know where she lives?" Indigo cut in.
Mister Ryland smiled at us bemused. "Nah, son."
Indigo and I traded a look. What were we supposed to do now?
"Ask him about what happened all those years ago," an old willow tree whispered from the edge of the property.
"Well, do you know what happened to her?" I asked, taking the trees advice.
Mister Ryland let out a big sigh. "Bits and pieces, child, bits and pieces."
We just stared at him, waiting for him to say something useful.
Mister Ryland just sighed and took a long sip from his lemonade. He stared off down the road like he was expecting someone to come down it any minute.
"You know, child, there's a lot of life people never tell you about. Lot of living that gets down when you's not looking." He licked his lips and seeking his gums back against his teeth like the words tasted sour. "Zula was all good, you know? Sweet as orange molasses in July," he laughed to himself. "Sweet as - as coffee that's more sugar than drink! Don't know why she's done gone ran off for so long."
"She ran away?" Indigo cut in, leaning forward.
Mister Ryland nodded. "Long ago. Back when we's were youngsters. She died and went on walking."
"Wait, she's dead?" I asked, brow furrowing.
"Was, not any longer though, though she may be getting close to shaking hands with death again."
Indigo and I traded a look. What was he talking about?
"I'm sorry, Sir, but did you just say she was dead but isn't?" Indigo asked as politely as he could, though he still sounded like a jackass.
"Listen, Son, do you want the story or not?"
"We want the story!" I quickly cut in before Indigo could let his mouth get the best of him.
"Then listen!" Mister Ryland humped. "Zula - back when she was around your age - meet a man. A traveling accountant - you ever hear of such nonsense? Well, one day this outsider - much like you boy," he said talking to Indigo, "well, this outsider comes walking into town saying that an angel or God or a spider or something or other done sent him here to Nowhere to work. He's here all but a day when he runs into my sister, Zula. And let me tell you a thing about Zula. She could attract flies off shit, she was that likeable.
"Outsider takes one look at her and falls head over heels stupid for her. Next thing you know, she's pregnant with a baby! Do you believe that? A baby with an outsider, lordy." He shook his head, laughing to himself. "Well, she's too scared to tell our pops about the baby so she runs off with that accountant. Pops died about a year later. And I - well, she's my sister, isn't she? So, I saved up my money, bought up some land and built this here house. I've been here ever since waiting for her."
"You're waiting for her?" Indigo asked, incredulously. "You must of been waiting - what - thirty, forty years?"
"Forty-two, to be exact," Mister Ryland supplied.
We just stared at him in shock. Forty-two years?
Mister Ryland started getting defensive when he saw us staring. "Well, she's my sister, isn't she? Twin sister, actually! She's going to come back one of these days, just you wait."
"I think you've waited long enough for the both of us," Indigo muttered before I elbowed him, hard.
Something was bothering me, though. Why would she leave? And Mister Ryland was hiding something; he wasn't lying, perse but he wasn't telling the truth either. There was a faint taste of citrus floating through the air, like sweet pineapple juice. I knew there had to be more to the story than what he was saying.
"What I wanna know, though, is why you came all the way out here for that story," Mister Ryland casually mentioned.
"What do you mean?" I questioned, confused. Where else was I supposed to hear this story.
"Why didn't you just ask your Grammie?"
"My Grammie?" I asked, not following.
"Yeah," Mister Ryland leaned back in his rocking chair, "Iris was the one that helped Zula leave town in the first place. She'd probably know more than me, anyhow."
"I'm sorry, what?" Indigo asked, his face lighting up as the information was revealed.
I didn't say anything. The deeper we investigated the more and more connections lead back to Grammie.
Instead of answering Indigo, Mister Ryland glanced at the chickens. "You know what, boy, could you do an old man a favor? Could you go round back and grab the bag of feed and give some to the chickens? I'd do it but the bag is so heavy."
"No - what," Indigo began, but I cut him off.
"Indigo, don't be rude. Help our host."
Indigo looked between the two of us and finally nodded. He got up, grumbling to himself, and walked down the stairs and around the back of the house.
I quickly turned to the old man. "Spill," I demanded.
Mister Ryland raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Now that the outsider is gone, I'm guessing you have some questions?"
I nodded. "What does my Grammie have to do with all of this?"
Mister Ryland laughed. "Everything, child, everything. Your Grammie is the reason this all happened to begin with."
"What do you mean?"
"Iris and Zula were as close as two wings on a bird. They were inseparable. Well, before Le Fouet at least."
"Le Fouet?" I asked.
He nodded. "Le Fouet - the whip. The secret organization that runs all of Nowhere."
"I'm sorry, did you just say secret organization?" I demanded, crossing my arms.
He just nodded again. "They've been in control since the beginning. Since all the way back to the rebellion."
I stared at him with an eyebrow raised, daring him to continue.
"They've been a secret since the founders - some of the founders were even part of Le Fouet themselves. The positions have been passed down generation to generation, given the brightest and most powerful of each generation."
"If they're a secret organization how do you know about them?"
Mister Ryland looked around to make sure no one was listening before he leaned closer. "Because Zula and I used to be a part of it."
I stared at him shocked. He used to be a part of them?
Mister Ryland smiled, proud of himself for surprising me. "Weren't expecting that, were you?"
I shook my head no at him. "What exactly does Le Fouet do?"
"Oh, lots a things. They protect the barrier, make sure that it stays strong. They watch over for the town, make sure no one attracts any unwanted attention. But, most of all they make sure outsiders - like your friend - stay away."
A chill ran through me causing goosebumps to spike on my arms. They handled outsiders? Does that mean they could be responsible for Violet's disappearance?
"What exactly do they do to the outsiders?" I asked.
"Oh, lots a things. Sometimes they burn their houses down. Sometimes they buy out their businesses. Sometimes they just up and make them gone."
"Make them gone?"
Mister Ryland nodded. "If an outsider is too stubborn, won't get going, they tend to send a message by making sure they disappear. Also helps the other outsiders leave too. Ain't no one want to stay where they ain't wanted."
"What does my grandmother have to do with all of this?"
Mister Ryland smiled at me, like I had asked the right question. "You wanna know what your Grammie Iris has to do with The Whip?"
I nodded, sitting on the edge of my seat.
"Your Grammie is the reason The Whip went into hiding to begin with. She fought them and almost won."
My jaw dropped. My Grammie fought an organization dedicated to protecting the town? That was completely unlike her.
"Why would she do that?" I demanded.
Mister Ryland smiled sadly at me, his lips tucked against one another. "Because she loved Zula almost as much as I did."
"What does my grandmother have to do with your sister?"
"The Whip cares most about the intermingling of the races. They don't want no half-breed children running around, now do they?"
Warning bells went off in my head when Mister Ryland said half-breed. I was a half-breed. Did that mean I was in danger?
Mister Ryland continued. "I left The Whip when it became clear that they were beyond saving, beyond the power of good. But Zula, my sister, she always did see the best in people. Never knew when to quit. She stayed in Le Fouet much longer than I did. She and your Grammie believed they could change the organization for the better. Could make it about bringing the town into the modern century, instead of trying to preserve the old way of life-"
"My Grammie was a part of Le Fouet?" I asked, shocked. That made more sense to me than her fighting against it.
Mister Ryland nodded. "We were recruited after high school, after it became clear that our powers far surpassed most of our peers. They recruited a few others too. Boford Buchanan, Zuri Saint, John Boone, even little Kari Coontz."
I blinked in shock. Buchanan? Saint? Boone? They were three of the most powerful people in our town. They were respectively, the sheriff, the school's principal, and the mayor. If they were part of Le Fouet then it was true that The Whip ran our town.
Mister Ryland continued, "Zula and Iris tried to change the society from within and it was working! Outsiders were allowed within the boundaries for extended stay for the first time in decades. They could have changed the world, if it wasn't for..."
"Wasn't for?"
"The baby. Zula got pregnant like I told you with an outsider's baby and the society - they cursed her."
"What type of curse?"
"As the child grew it would suck the life outta her, killing her. She died when she was four months pregnant with the baby."
I didn't know how to say this politely, so I just said it. "So, she's dead?"
Mister Ryland shook his head. "No. Your grandmother brought her back to life. Saved her."
"That's impossible!" I exclaimed, shooting out of my chair. "You can't steal a life, only-"
"Trade it," he finished for me, his face grim. "She brought Zula back, but there was a blood price to be paid. Your Grammie made it so that the next woman to have a child with an outsider would be the one to pay it. She helped Zula escape town, then burned down the society's headquarters. She's been waging a war against them ever since."
The next woman ... my mother. I was frozen still as the information sunk in. My mother had died giving birth to me - the curse made it so that the child of such a union stole the life force. I was the reason my mother was dead. No. I shook my head. I wasn't the reason, Grammie was.
I started walking away from Mister Ryland and his awful stories.
Indigo rounded the corner of the house. "So, I looked everywhere and I couldn't find the feed bag but-"
I grabbed Indigo's wrist and started pulling him towards the car. "Take me home. Now."
"Lavender," Indigo asked, concern written across his face.
"Take. Me. Home. Now." I enunciated, throwing open the passenger side door and climbing in.
Indigo glanced back at Mister Ryland who was still seated in his rocking chair, chuckling to himself. After a moment he nodded and also got in the car.
"What happened?" Indigo asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," I bit out.
Indigo didn't say anything; he just started the car and drove off.