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Lydie, look! An eagle. It’s got a trout!” Beth’s voice echoed in Lydia’s mind as she pointed to the huge bird overhead. Lydia sat up and watched in silence as the majestic bird winged northward, the trout still wiggling in its talons and disappeared behind the trees.

“Magnificent!” Lydia brushed her sister’s freckled cheek with her finger.

Look at these, Lydie. Aren’t they beautiful? Beth thrust a scrunched wad of wild flowers into Lydia’s face.

“They are very beautiful, Beth.”

Lydie . . . don’t talk with your mouth.

“I don’t like making mind talk. You know that.”

Lydie, please?

Lydia studied Beth’s impish face. Ironic, how everyone pitied poor deaf-mute Beth . . . too dumb to learn to sign or read lips. But then they didn’t know she had flat refused. And why should she when she could read everyone’s thoughts. She made Beth promise never to use it with anyone but her. “You have to promise to keep it our secret.”

Okay, Lydia sighed. But don’t think it’s an all the time thing. Beth pounced on Lydia and they both fell back on the grass, tumbling and laughing until they gasped for breath. It felt so good to laugh. Lydia hadn’t laughed since it happened. Since it happened . . . the darkness rushed back and she fell silent.

What’s the matter, Lydie? Why did you stop? It makes me happy to see you laugh.

Lydia forced a smile and stretched out her arms. “It’s getting late and we best be getting back. Help me up.” Beth grabbed Lydia’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

Can I ask a question, Lydie?

“What question?“

The question you don’t like me to ask.”

“About leaving, I suppose.” Lydia glanced at Beth’s profile in the fading sunlight. She looked like Momma with her freckles and dark auburn hair. Too bad she’d died before she ever got to know her. Momma would have loved talking mind speak with her.

Do we have to leave here, Lydie? I don’t ever want to leave here. Everything’s okay now, isn’t it?

Nothing would ever be okay again. If only she could undo it all. But she couldn’t. She could only take Beth away and make a life for them both somewhere far away from this place.

“We can’t stay here Beth, you know that. One day they will find out . . . ”

Beth stomped her feet. No. I will not go! Lydia pulled Beth to her breast, burying her face in Beth’s auburn hair.

“It will be better, Beth. I promise.” Lydia pushed Beth to arm’s length. “You do trust me, don’t you?” Beth nodded and dropped her head. “We’ll go far away where no one knows us. Where I can get a real job and you can go to school. Everything will be okay. You’ll see.” Lydia put her arm around Beth’s shoulders. “You’ll see.”

Lydia made supper while Beth built a fire in the fireplace. They ate in silence, like a husband and wife who had nothing left to discuss. Beth picked at her food avoiding eye contact. Finally, Lydia patted her on the arm. Beth looked up, a dark shadow flickering in her green eyes.

“You still haven’t told me why you want to stay.”

And you haven’t told me why we can’t.

“We’ve been over this a dozen times.”

Beth’s eyes seized her and she felt reeled in like a cord, tightening around her mind. Shadows and images flickered in and out of the darkness. Lydia tried to look away. Lydie . . . you worry too much. They will never find him . . .

Lydia was twelve the last time he came into her room. Her whole body trembled as she waited in the darkness, the long knife in her hand. Then he came; the heavy footsteps stumbling down the hall. The door swung open and the blade flashed in the dim light.

“Touch me and I’ll cut your belly open,” she hissed as he leaned over her bed. He staggered backward.

“Whoa girl. You wouldn’t hurt your own Daddy, would you? Not my Darlin’ girl.”  His voice was thick and stank of alcohol. A sneer spread across his lips as he reached for her. Without hesitation, she slashed at him and the tip of the blade sliced his palm. He yelped and started at the blood .

“Don’t ever touch me again. Don’t ever touch Beth. I’ll kill you. Do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”

Lydia rocked back and forth. “Jesus loves me . . .”  she could still hear Mama singing that song to her. Jesus loved her back then before Mamma died and Daddy started coming into her room at night. Sometimes she pretended He still did. “Yes, Jesus loves me . . .”

Lydie? Are you asleep? Lydia felt the gentle probe in her mind.

No Beth.

Please don’t be mad at me.

I’m not mad at you.

The rustle of sheets, bare feet padding across the floor, Beth slipping in beside her and they were kids again, Lydia singing away Beth’s night dreams. Only this time it was Beth who sang, “Jesus loves me this I know . . .”   She should have known her father would go after Beth. She should have tried harder to keep him away. Tears ran down Lydia’s face.

It’s not your fault. Beth’s intrusion startled her. She snapped her mind shut and pushed Beth from her bed.

“Try and get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll walk up to the lake. Maybe take a picnic lunch, okay?”

In the pale moonlight she caught a dark shadow in Beth’s eyes as she bent down and kissed her on the forehead  . . . and a sudden chill.

Tomorrow . . . they would leave tomorrow.

The gray morning light seeped into the corners of the room. Lydia glance at Beth’s cot and sprang from her bed. Beth’s flannel gown lay in a heap on the floor.

Lydia grabbed her flannel shirt and shoes. The chill morning air cut through her thin gown as she quickly she walked around the cabin to the privy. She flung the door open startling a tiny lizard clinging to the wall. The woodshed, the barn . . . all empty. This was not like Beth. Something was very wrong.

Oblivious to the gold splashed valley as the sun spilled over the eastern horizon, Lydia ran up the path toward the mine. “Jesus, please-” she stopped.

The path split, a narrow thread leading up the hill and into the trees, the other down toward mine shaft. Without hesitating, she took the upper path, driven by something she could only feel, sprinting toward the cave lay hidden behind a bolder at the base of the cliff. A place they’d spent many of their childhood years.

As Lydia neared the cave, a strong presence forced its way into her mind. Beth was inside, of that she was certain.

Lydia bent down and peered into the cold musty darkness straining to identify the silhouette of someone sitting in the shadows ahead. As the darkness gave way to shapes  her whole body suddenly stiffened and went cold. She had stepped into  a child’s playhouse. A table and two chairs sat in the middle of the room, a single bed stood in one corner opposite a small crib and dresser. Next to the crib sat Beth in a rocker that had disappeared from the cabin weeks ago. She rocked slowly back and forth gazing at Lydia through half closed lids.

Do you like it?

A chill crept up Lydia’s back. This wasn’t her little Beth.

“I don’t understand . . .?” Beth’s eyes were dark and piercing. The cord tightened around her mind, a pulling so strong it weakened her muscles.

We are not leaving here, Lydia. Not now, not ever. Beth stood and walked slowly toward her.

You look tired, Lydie. The urge to lie down filled Lydia’s mind. She moved toward the bed, unable to resist Beth’s firm hold on her mind and lay back on the soft mattress. That’s a good girl.

“But I killed him, Beth. We have to leave-”

A sugary smile spread over Beth’s lips. No Lydie, I made you think you killed Daddy. I thought you would be too afraid to leave if you thought you killed him . . .

Lydia’s mind went back to that night. She had caught Daddy with Beth. She went to the drawer, pulled the gun . . .

That’s not how it happened, Lydie  . . . I got the gun. I shot him. Tears pooled in Beth’s eyes. I didn’t mean to kill him. I was just so angry. That night wasn’t the first time. Daddy and I had a special love, Lydie. One that you couldn’t understand. We were going to be happy together. Beth placed her hand on her belly. Me and Daddy and the baby. Beth’s eyes turned dark. Then I caught him with you . . .

Lydia’s head spun and the cord tightened.

I need you Lydie, to help me care for the baby.

Slowly everything came together. She remembered her father standing there, terror stricken, the gun in Beth’s hand aimed at his chest. Lydia had tried to snatch the gun from her but Beth’s mind kept her back. She helplessly watched Beth pull the trigger and blow her father across the room in an explosion of blood and guts.

Lydia opened her eyes and looked up at Beth.

Lydie, it’s up to you to take care of us now. Lydia felt the strength of Beth’s mind inside her own. The cord, constant, ever present, wrapped around her mind and she closed her eyes again.

Another presence flickered inside of her . . . an old familiar presence that sang that old familiar song . . . Jesus loves me this I know. Maybe He would help her yet.