The Garden of Eve Read online

  “Father, don’t!” Evie blurted out, but Father just rubbed her arm gently.

  “Evie, if that boy is lost or if he’s run away from home, I want to find him. Maggie will stay with you until I get back.”

  Maggie nodded.

  “It’ll be okay,” she said as Father got his coat and his hat with the earflaps, but Evie knew Father wouldn’t find what he was looking for.

  “If there’s anything else you can think of that might be helpful, Eve,” the officer said, “this is my business card. It has the station number on there and here’s my cell phone number. We’ll be out searching until we find Adam, but you can always reach me if you remember something important.”

  Father kissed the top of Evie’s head.

  “I’ll be back before you’re half asleep,” he said, but tired as she was, Evie knew she wouldn’t rest until he was home.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Pieces of the Puzzle

  At first the house was busy with searchers coming in and out. There were voices in the hall and the telephone rang nonstop. A man Evie didn’t recognize was posted next to the phone, and three times she heard him talking to Adam’s father. She could tell because his voice would get very soft and he’d say, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cordez,” more times than Evie could count.

  Guilt sat like a stone in her gut. Why hadn’t she asked more questions? She hadn’t even tried to convince Adam to return.

  Evie stared into the fireplace, where the gloom seemed to be held at bay. She was waiting for the right moment to talk to Maggie, but there were always people around. They’d come in from outside and sit by the fire to warm up, and as long as they were around, Maggie dozed quietly in her chair. Once, Evie even slept for a few minutes, and when she woke up she heard two of the searchers whispering next to the mantel.

  “What’s even stranger is that Maggie’s sister was also named Eve. I read about the family in an article in the historical society’s newsletter. Found it when I was archiving. Apparently there was quite a buzz about Joseph Clayton when he first arrived. They did an exhibit of his collection of artifacts at the library.”

  “Hmph. Do you suppose he killed her?”

  “Oh no. I think Rodney did it.”

  “Rodney? Why, he was only a teenager!”

  “Well, it could have been an accident.”

  “Next you’ll be saying this one here killed that little boy.”

  “No such thing! This would be a result of the curse for certain. You know I saw a black cat go in that orchard just the other day . . . I’d give a thousand dollars to know what this girl saw. I bet the ghost got him. Her father has been messing with those trees, and if you ask me that’s trouble.”

  “Hmm, yes. Simon tried to give him fair warning, but some folks can’t leave well enough alone. Do you think perhaps . . . Wait, I think she might be waking up.”

  The voices dropped off, and Evie pretended she was just stirring in her sleep, but no one said a word after that until she heard one of them say that it was time to head home.

  “It’s after two in the morning, you know. I don’t suspect they’re going to find him. That’ll make a second one, gone for good.”

  Evie listened to the feet on the hardwood floor and the sound of the front door opening and shutting. Then gradually the house grew silent. Slowly Evie sat up and opened her eyes.

  Maggie was looking straight at her. “I thought they’d never leave,” she said.

  It felt good to tell Maggie everything. Evie whispered the whole story by the flickering light of the hearth, and Maggie listened in her rocker, never saying much but sometimes nodding and sometimes looking off in the distance and making a low hmmm. When she finished, Maggie leaned back.

  “That’s quite a story,” she said. “After all these years it’s still hard for me to believe those seeds had any real power, but . . .” She tapped her fingers, studying the fire. “There are forces in the universe we know nothing about, my dear. Of that much I am certain.”

  Maggie studied her quizzically.

  “I bet you miss your mom even more now than you did before,” she said. “How hard it must have been to come back!”

  Evie nodded, thinking about her mother’s shadowy image reaching out to her through the light. It made her whole body hurt, as if longing was something that used every one of her muscles.

  “I do miss her,” Evie said. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night, and I don’t think she could have stayed with me.”

  “What do you mean?” Maggie asked.

  Evie paused.

  “When Adam tried to bring back your sister, I could tell that she didn’t want him to—like maybe wherever she was wasn’t so bad. I think it might have been the same with Mom. I know she was happy to see me, and she said that she loved me and everything, but she didn’t come back until I really needed her and even then it was only for a minute.”

  “That’s very wise,” Maggie said. Then she shook her head. “Poor Adam,” she murmured. “I’m not sure where you two went, but I know he can’t stay wherever he is.”

  Evie looked up.

  “You said there were three seeds, didn’t you? Did Rodney give you the last one?”

  “No,” Maggie said, frowning. “I wish he had, but honestly I didn’t know that any of them still existed until you opened that box of yours. Still, the last one must be somewhere.”

  Evie fell hard against the couch cushions. “What if we never get Adam back?”

  “Not we, Eve,” Maggie said, raising an eyebrow just like Mom used to. “You. I may not know much, but I know those seeds don’t work for everyone. Whatever magic was in them was obviously meant for you.”

  “Are you sure?” Evie asked. “Did you ever plant one?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Rodney asked me at least a dozen times that I remember,” she said. “Once or twice I remember him asking my friends. After a while people wouldn’t let their children near my brother.” She scratched her chin. “Rodney dated an Eve once, but I’m guessing the seeds wouldn’t work for an adult even if they were named Adam or Eve. An adult would never believe in the same way a child would . . .”

  “I wish I hadn’t believed,” Evie said, but Maggie smiled gently.

  “But if you hadn’t, who would bring the orchard back to life?”

  “The orchard?” Evie asked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Maggie leaned in. “Think, Eve,” she said. “If what you’ve said is true . . .” She paused. “Remember what you told me about creating life? How it felt? Certainly that life must have come from somewhere. Why else would the trees have died all those years ago?”

  Evie thought of Father struggling each day to make things grow.

  “Oh, Maggie,” she said softly, despair creeping in. “You’re right. I’m sure that’s why it’s so cold and gray here. Eve drew all the life into her world and now Adam will do the same thing, only the orchard doesn’t have any more life to give. I should have thought about Beaumont earlier, but all I could think about was finding my mom. It’s all my fault!”

  Maggie got up and sat down beside Evie on the couch.

  “No,” she said, calmly, “it isn’t. It isn’t my sister’s fault, either. And it won’t be Adam’s fault. Pain has a way of blinding us to everything but what we want to see. The only question now is how to bring him home.”

  “What if it’s too late?”

  This time Maggie laughed tiredly. “Eve,” she said, “one thing you’ll have learned when you get to be my age is that there’s almost always a way to get things done. You just have to think smart enough and don’t take no for an answer. Right now we have to decide where my brother would have put the last seed.”

  “So you believe me?” Evie asked.

  Maggie sighed. “All those years ago when Rodney told me his story I never really listened. I never knew my sister, so it was hard for me to feel his grief. When he told me the story of her disappearance I’d say, �
�Enough, enough!’ because I’d heard it so many times . . . But now, listening to you, it’s as if I’m truly hearing it for the very first time. So, yes,” she said, nodding. “At long last, I believe.”

  Evie bit her lip.

  “I wish Father would believe me,” she said. “He’d find the seed in no time, but Father doesn’t like stories.”

  “But this isn’t a story, is it?” Maggie said. “It’s true.”

  Evie shook her head. “It wouldn’t be true to Father. He’ll tell me I was hiding in the orchard and made up the whole thing because I wished it were true.”

  Maggie let the silence hang between them, then she patted Evie’s knee.

  “People change,” she said at last. “Your father is a practical man, but he believes in you, I’m sure of it. Sooner or later, you will have to believe in him, too.”

  Evie wasn’t sure what Maggie meant, but right then the door opened, and Father came in with a blast of cold air and peeled off his hat and gloves. He sank into the chair beside the fireplace.

  “We haven’t found him,” he said. Then he glanced at Evie and Maggie.

  “What are you two doing up? You both ought to be asleep. It’s after three o’clock.”

  He unlaced his heavy boots and took them off, setting them beside the hearth.

  “I’ve got to rest, but I’ll head back out again early in the morning. There’s a new shift out looking for Adam right now. Maggie, you know where the spare rooms are. You can take whichever one you choose.”

  Maggie nodded.

  “Evie,” he said, “I’d like to take you with me tomorrow as soon as it’s light so you can show me exactly where you and Adam were playing.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Maggie said, fixing Evie with a meaningful stare. “There’ll be lots of work to do tomorrow, so we might as well get a couple hours of sleep, then you and your father can have a long talk.”

  Evie nodded slowly. “Okay,” she agreed, studying Father’s weary form. She wondered if Maggie was right.

  What would Father do if she told him her story?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  To Tell the Truth

  “Wake up, Evie.” Father was shaking her awake in the dim morning light. “I know it’s early, but we can’t waste any time. I told Officer Daniels we’d take the next shift.”

  Evie forced her eyes open, feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all. Before she’d even sat up, a flood of memories washed over her—she and Alex planting the seed, the world full of flowers, Mom . . . Then she corrected herself. It hadn’t been Alex. It had been Adam. Evie wanted to pull the covers back over her head, but Father was sitting on the edge of her bed.

  “Weather’s looking like snow today,” he said. “In fact, I thought I saw some flurries just a minute ago. Rotten luck, but we’ll have to deal with it. Bundle up good. I’ve set out your long johns and the extra fleece to put under your coat. I want you in two pairs of socks and a hat, and no arguing.”

  Evie nodded. Father left her to dress, and she pulled on her layers of clothes then went downstairs to find Father in the kitchen making hot tea and oatmeal. They ate together in silence, then piled the dishes in the sink and left the house, stepping out of the warmth into the bitter cold.

  “You lead,” Father said. “Show me exactly where you two went.”

  Evie studied the tree line, then showed him her red scarf.

  “We went in here,” she said. “I marked it with my scarf because it was exactly the center row.” Father nodded and the two of them stepped into the orchard.

  “We were looking for Rodney’s grave. I wanted to plant the seed there, and Alex, I mean, Adam, told me Rodney had been buried in the center of the orchard. We walked down this row until we found the stone.”

  Father listened quietly. For a long time the only sounds were the crunching of their shoes and the cawing of the crows overhead, then Father cleared his throat.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d met Adam?”

  Evie looked up.

  “Because he told me he was dead, and I knew you wouldn’t believe I’d met a ghost.”

  “I wouldn’t have,” Father said, “but sometimes that can be a good thing. I could have helped you figure out what was true.”

  Now it was Evie’s turn to be silent. They walked until there were only apple trees in every direction and then the ground sloped down and turned and they arrived at Rodney’s gravestone.

  “We planted the seed here,” Evie said.

  Father knelt down to study the disturbed earth near the stone.

  “Then what?”

  Evie paused, but the words she wanted to say stuck in her throat.

  “Then we went into town and Adam said he wanted to stay, but I said I needed to go home, so we each went our separate ways and that’s the last I saw of him.”

  Father scratched his beard the way he always did when he was thinking things through.

  “So it was right after you planted the seed that you and Adam went into town?”

  “Yes.”

  “What time would you say that was?”

  “I don’t know because I didn’t have a watch.”

  “Well, was it light out?”

  Evie shrugged.

  “What were the two of you doing before you planted the seed?”

  “Just playing.”

  “I looked for you at twelve o’clock for lunch, and you weren’t at the house. That’s when I knew you were missing. Would you say you were planting the seed about then?”

  “Probably.”

  “After you left Adam in town, what did you do?”

  “I headed back here because . . . I wanted to see if the seed had grown, but I must have stepped off the path and gotten turned around, and then . . . I got tired, so I sat down to rest and when I woke up I heard the searchers calling.”

  Father’s eyes narrowed. He was silent for a long time and she could guess what he was thinking.

  “There’s almost always some truth in every story.”

  “Seems hard to believe you could sleep for such a long time,” he said at last, “and besides that, Evie, you’ve always had your mom’s sense of direction. Never knew either one of you to get lost.” He paused. “So tell me . . . how exactly did you get turned around?”

  Evie was quiet.

  “I don’t know,” she said at last. “I just did.”

  Father took off his hat and gloves and ran his fingers through his matted hair. The snow was picking up now.

  “Evie,” he said at last, “I think you know where this boy is. The only thing I can’t figure is why you’re covering for him. You know what loss is, and Adam’s parents want him back desperately. You can see the weather is turning bad, so if Adam is hiding out here, he’s taking a big risk. Now if you were an ordinary kid I might think you didn’t understand how much it hurts to lose someone . . .”

  Father waited, and Evie stared at her feet.

  “You know,” Father said after a moment, “while those searchers were out here and I was stuck at the house waiting . . . well, I thought I’d give up and die if anything happened to you. I regretted every moment I’d spent working when we could have been together.”

  Evie looked up quick. She opened her mouth to say something, but Father pressed a finger to her lips.

  “It’s just . . . after your mom died I figured I could make things better by moving us out here, away from everyone else. I don’t know why I thought that, I just did . . . but once you went missing I was sure you’d run off back to Michigan to your gram’s . . .”

  Father’s eyes filled and he had to stop and wipe them with his coat sleeve, and finally Evie couldn’t stand it any longer. She threw her arms around his waist.

  “I wouldn’t have run away,” she said. “I’d never leave you—not for Gram, anyway.”

  Father laughed, but it was a tired laugh.

  “I couldn’t think where else you might have gone,” he said, “and if it wasn’t for Maggie
talking me through things, real calm and steady . . .”

  Father took a deep breath.

  “I don’t want you to regret the choices you’re making right now. Wherever Adam is, you need to tell me. No one’s going to get in trouble, and if Adam needs help in any way, we’ll get it for him.”

  Evie drew in her breath. The air was sharp and cold and made her chest ache.

  “Father, I . . . I want to tell you, it’s just . . .”

  “What?”

  Maggie’s words echoed in Evie’s mind. He believes in you, and sooner or later, you will have to believe in him, too.

  “It’s just that I don’t think you’ll believe me if I tell you the truth,” Evie said at last. “It will sound like one of Mom’s stories, and I can’t tell you how it’s true because I don’t know. It just is.”

  Father dug with his toe through the snow and into the loosened dirt around the stone. Then he stopped.

  “You know what the last thing your mom said to me before she passed on was?”

  Evie shook her head.

  “She said that she loved me, and that she knew I would do a good job taking care of you, and then she held my hand and with her final breath she said one word.”

  Evie stood perfectly still.

  “What was it?” she asked, although she could barely breathe.

  Father looked her in the eyes.

  “Believe.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Hidden Treasure

  “It began with the seed . . .”

  Evie told the story slowly and carefully, with attention to all the small details she knew Father would ask about. She talked as they walked back inside and peeled off their layers, and now they were sitting on the couch warming up by the fireplace. Maggie had made tea and was sipping it in the rocker.

  Father listened carefully, his brow furrowed. He didn’t interrupt even once. Every now and then Maggie would comment about one piece of the story or another, but mostly Evie talked steadily, trying to remember everything that might be important. It felt like she was telling Father a story, the same way Mom had told her stories every night before bed.