young man.
"No, no," said someone else. "Those are wedding gowns! They're gettin' married!"
"If those are the brides ," yelled a woman, "I'd sure hate to see the grooms !"
Just about everyone laughed at that one.
And then, they all stopped.
The whole crowd turned as one to stare out along the track in the direction that the conductor and Klan leaders were looking. Everyone had heard the same thing at the same moment.
A distant, high-pitched toot. And there it was again.
"Oh my God," said Renata.
The second one had been closer than the first.
The third was closer yet.
Father Stanislavski turned and nodded knowingly at Olenka. "This is what they were waiting for."
Like everyone else, Olenka knew what it was. She had heard it thousands of times before, by day and by night...but never with such a feeling of dread.
It was the whistle of an approaching train.
Fifteen minutes later, the train pulled onto the siding behind the first train and unloaded another hundred white-robed men.
Fifteen minutes after that, every electric light in the town of Lilly went out at once.
*****
Â
Chapter Three
Baltimore, Maryland, 2006
Â
If Spellerina were here, this guy would be one dead frog.
That was what Celeste Beacon was thinking as she sat in her favorite restaurant in town in her favorite red dress and got dumped by her favorite boyfriend of all time.
Abracadabra, dumbass! Take that!
Sure, Spellerina could have handled this...if Spellerina existed, that is. If only she were a real, live super-hero instead of a make-believe one Celeste had pretended to be as a little girl.
If only Celeste still had that stick she used to pretend was a magic wand, only it really was a magic wand this time, and she could zap the guy sitting across the table before he hurt her any more than he already had.
Where's the damn magic when you really need it?
"It's nothing you did." Eric, the freshly minted ex-boyfriend, gazed into Celeste's eyes with a look of intense sincerity. "I want you to know this is all on me."
All on him. I like that.
If he wanted it all on him, Celeste could oblige. She'd start by hitting him with her empty wine glass...the one he'd let her drain, refill, and drain again before letting her have it with the dumping speech. When the shards of glass were all on him, she'd follow up with the point of her shoe, jammed hard into his nuts. Then, she'd put the table on him, too, overturning it on top of him and jumping up and down on it as hard as she could.
That was what she wanted to do to him, anyway. If only she were the hard-bitten bitch she wished she could be, not the least bit afraid of unanticipated consequences and heavy public scenes.
Why can't I be the kind of person I hate?
"You've made me very happy." Eric still exuded sincerity from every pore. "It's just the rest of my life I'm not happy with. I need a fresh start, you know?"
Celeste broke eye contact and stared at the burning white candle stub in the center of the table. Even as her mind roiled with visions of violence, she couldn't quite believe what was happening.
Eric had completely surprised her. Earlier that day, when Celeste had put on her favorite little red dress and put up her long, blonde hair, she'd never suspected for a second that she was primping to get dumped.
She'd thought that things were going so well . The last two years had been great, with no bombshells or danger signs along the way. Finally, she'd thought, after her long record of bad choices, she'd found someone who was as perfectly matched to her as it was possible for another human being to be.
That was the first sign of danger right there.
"I'm moving to Colorado," said Eric. "A buddy of mine from school is setting up a chiropractic clinic, and he wants me to partner with him. It's a great opportunity."
Celeste stared blankly at the candle stub, thinking about a picture she would paint when she got home.
The image of it was as clear to her as if she were remembering
"No, no," said someone else. "Those are wedding gowns! They're gettin' married!"
"If those are the brides ," yelled a woman, "I'd sure hate to see the grooms !"
Just about everyone laughed at that one.
And then, they all stopped.
The whole crowd turned as one to stare out along the track in the direction that the conductor and Klan leaders were looking. Everyone had heard the same thing at the same moment.
A distant, high-pitched toot. And there it was again.
"Oh my God," said Renata.
The second one had been closer than the first.
The third was closer yet.
Father Stanislavski turned and nodded knowingly at Olenka. "This is what they were waiting for."
Like everyone else, Olenka knew what it was. She had heard it thousands of times before, by day and by night...but never with such a feeling of dread.
It was the whistle of an approaching train.
Fifteen minutes later, the train pulled onto the siding behind the first train and unloaded another hundred white-robed men.
Fifteen minutes after that, every electric light in the town of Lilly went out at once.
*****
Â
Chapter Three
Baltimore, Maryland, 2006
Â
If Spellerina were here, this guy would be one dead frog.
That was what Celeste Beacon was thinking as she sat in her favorite restaurant in town in her favorite red dress and got dumped by her favorite boyfriend of all time.
Abracadabra, dumbass! Take that!
Sure, Spellerina could have handled this...if Spellerina existed, that is. If only she were a real, live super-hero instead of a make-believe one Celeste had pretended to be as a little girl.
If only Celeste still had that stick she used to pretend was a magic wand, only it really was a magic wand this time, and she could zap the guy sitting across the table before he hurt her any more than he already had.
Where's the damn magic when you really need it?
"It's nothing you did." Eric, the freshly minted ex-boyfriend, gazed into Celeste's eyes with a look of intense sincerity. "I want you to know this is all on me."
All on him. I like that.
If he wanted it all on him, Celeste could oblige. She'd start by hitting him with her empty wine glass...the one he'd let her drain, refill, and drain again before letting her have it with the dumping speech. When the shards of glass were all on him, she'd follow up with the point of her shoe, jammed hard into his nuts. Then, she'd put the table on him, too, overturning it on top of him and jumping up and down on it as hard as she could.
That was what she wanted to do to him, anyway. If only she were the hard-bitten bitch she wished she could be, not the least bit afraid of unanticipated consequences and heavy public scenes.
Why can't I be the kind of person I hate?
"You've made me very happy." Eric still exuded sincerity from every pore. "It's just the rest of my life I'm not happy with. I need a fresh start, you know?"
Celeste broke eye contact and stared at the burning white candle stub in the center of the table. Even as her mind roiled with visions of violence, she couldn't quite believe what was happening.
Eric had completely surprised her. Earlier that day, when Celeste had put on her favorite little red dress and put up her long, blonde hair, she'd never suspected for a second that she was primping to get dumped.
She'd thought that things were going so well . The last two years had been great, with no bombshells or danger signs along the way. Finally, she'd thought, after her long record of bad choices, she'd found someone who was as perfectly matched to her as it was possible for another human being to be.
That was the first sign of danger right there.
"I'm moving to Colorado," said Eric. "A buddy of mine from school is setting up a chiropractic clinic, and he wants me to partner with him. It's a great opportunity."
Celeste stared blankly at the candle stub, thinking about a picture she would paint when she got home.
The image of it was as clear to her as if she were remembering
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