We live in a place called Prophetstown in Iowa. It’s a small town where everyone knows everyone, with open, lush corn fields and broad skies. It’s the sort of place where you’ll want to walk around barefoot and be outside all the time with loose, uncombed hair. That’s how I justify not wanting to wear shoes and not wanting to braid my hair.
There are two things that define this town: our church, the tallest and oldest building, and the legend. The legend of David Adams and Delilah Evans. Well, people don’t call it that but that’s what I’ve named it.
Years back, David and Delilah loved each other. No one knew about their affair until Delilah turned up pregnant, and then all hell broke loose. They locked up Delilah because she was such a bad girl. I’ve heard the word slut associated with her. They were going to put David in jail, too. But somehow, they both got away before that could happen. I’m not sure how it all went down but since then people hate them, like, a lot. They are probably the most hated people after the devil.
I’ve heard my mom say that after they skipped town, Mr. Adams, David’s dad sort of wasted away and then died a couple of years later. It was such a shock to an upstanding citizen of the town, who had raised his kids all alone after his wife passed away from cancer. My mom says he was really well-liked and look what those monsters did to him. After Mr. Adams died, Peter Adams, David’s brother and Mr. Adams’s other son, sort of became withdrawn and started keeping to himself.
See, David and Delilah were never supposed to fall in love with each other, let alone have a baby together. Delilah was David and Peter’s first cousin. She came to live with them when she was only a child and her parents had died. Basically, she grew up with David and Peter, and everyone treated them as real siblings as opposed to cousins. It horrified everyone when they found out about the affair. It was wrong and immoral and sick. And that baby? People called it an abomination. The devil’s spawn. They said only monsters could be created from a love like David and Delilah’s.
Some say they went to New York, the big, bad city. But some say they left the country. I bet my mom knows. She knows everything but obviously, she’s not going to tell me. According to my mom, they both were monsters and they should’ve been committed to a mental asylum. Or maybe a camp where people get electric shocks to get their brain chemistry right. Yeah, that’s my mom’s solution to everything.
I’ve heard countless stories where mothers kept their daughters under a strict watch after the scandal. They wouldn’t let them stay out too late. Curfews were insane. Every boy in the town was suspected of wrongdoing. Every love story was thwarted and stomped upon. Mrs. Weatherby, the town’s gossip and my mom’s best friend, calls it the dark times, when love had died and the purity of it was stained.
“All because of those sinners: David and Delilah,” she said. “God only knows what happened to that baby. It couldn’t have survived, you know. There’s no way it could have. Babies like that never come out normal. They die before their time comes.”
So David and Delilah are our own Adam and Eve, and fourteen years ago, they gave birth to a boy. His name is Abel.
He’s very much alive, though. He’s the boy with golden hair and a black t-shirt. He’s the one who kind-of sort-of smiled at my dirty feet and grass-stained dress.
He’s my new neighbor. Abel Adams.
Last night was the worst yet. I’ve never seen my mom so mad. Sky was intimidated too, and she’s never afraid of my mother. We waited in tense silence until Mrs. Davis, Sky’s mom, came to pick her up. Mrs. Davis is the sweetest lady ever, with the same dark hair and gray eyes as Sky. I love her; she’s way more fun than my mom.
Once they both left, with Sky giving me a sympathetic look over her shoulder, the screaming started. My mom yelled about how dirty and savage and uncouth and uncivilized and unrefined I was. Well, not in all those fancy words but still. Then she sent me straight to the bathroom where she blasted cold water on me while I was still wearing clothes, and scrubbed my feet and legs for hours. It was a good thing the shower was on, actually. My mom couldn’t see my tears.
“And what were you doing staring at that new boy?” Her dark eyes were so harsh, I actually had to take a step back. “You’re not to associate with him, do you hear me, Evie? That boy shouldn’t even come close to you. If he does something, you tell me, you understand?”
I wanted to ask why, but I only nodded. At the time I had no idea who that new boy was. But I knew if my mom was going so crazy, then he must be related to the Adamses.
After dinner, I overheard my mom and dad talking in the living room. Mom told him about the arrival of the new neighbor and asked if all the rumors were true. My mom’s voice is shrill and in contrast to that, my dad’s voice is lower and calmer. I moved from the dining table where I was reading a book and hid behind the wall to listen in.
That’s when I knew the monster baby was alive and he moved here from New York City, the big, bad city, after all.
“David and Delilah are dead,” Dad said. “They died in a car crash. Peter’s his only living relative.”
“Well, good riddance, then. God sees everything. It’s time justice is served and evil is defeated.”
My mom is a big believer in God and monsters. I don’t know where she gets these ideas from because in church, we don’t talk about the devil. Father Knight talks about forgiveness, but whatever. My mom thinks God has a way of punishing the evil and taking out the monsters. God’s always watching, she says. My dad, however, is super chill. He never raises his voice and never argues with Mom. I try to imitate that. It’s better once Mom has it out of her system. So we can all have peace.
But right then, I was angry and sad. So sad. David and Delilah were dead. Full disclosure: I don’t hate them, not like other people do, not like my mom does. I don’t think they are monsters. Though I will admit that I’m curious. Over the years, I’ve wondered how it all happened. How could they have fallen in love where there was no chance of ever falling in love? It’s like growing a flower in a swamp. How does something like that happen?
In my room upstairs, as I was getting ready for bed and saying a prayer, I thought of Abel Adams. In my sadness, I’d forgotten that he was the one without a mom and dad. I couldn’t imagine being alone like that in the world. Even though my mom could be a bit much, I still loved her. Plus, my dad was the bomb. He was the greatest dad ever.
I climbed off my bed and crept to the window. Wrapping my hands around the iron bars, I looked into the night, toward Mr. Adams’s house with the leafless tree and a falling apart porch, wondering what Abel was doing right that second.
I hoped he was sleeping well.
It’s Sunday morning now and I’m sitting on a hard pew at church, in the back. My legs are short so they don’t reach all the way to the ground and I’m swinging them to and fro, imagining I’m outside, in the park on an actual swing. Preferably without the stupid, tight church shoes – black ballet flats – and without the tight braid that’s making my scalp itch.
I’m sorry to say but Sunday service can be a little boring. No offense to God or anything. It’s just that I’d rather be out in the sun. Plus, it’s always gorgeous at nine AM on Sundays. Not my fault.
Anyway, I’m sitting in the back with Sky, whose feet do touch the ground. I hate that. My mom’s up front with Mrs. Weatherby and they’re busy chatting about something, probably about how much baking powder to add into their cookies. My dad’s sitting with Mr. Knight, the cop, and the most important person in town aside from his brother, Father Knight. My dad and Mr. Knight are great friends, went to school together and everything.
We’re all waiting for the service to begin when Sky leans over. “I think we should make a break for it.”
“What?”
She gestures with her chin. “The door. Let’s sneak out.”
“No way.” My eyes are wide. “We’ll get caught.”
“Not if we do it right.”
“No. We’re not doing it.” I shake my head. A big shake.
She sits back with a huff. “You’re such a party pooper, Evie. You poop on my parties.”
“I do not.” I nudge her with my elbow. A hard nudge.
“Ow,” Sky squawks and retaliates. Obviously.
She digs her elbow into my side and now I’m the one saying ow. Before we know it, we’re hitting each other, whisper-yelling and throwing each other glares when someone clears their throat over us. Loudly.
We both freeze with our hands in the air, all ready to strike. Sky’s the one to see who it is; my back is turned.
She beams up at the person. “Hey, Mr. B. How are ya?”
I deflate, lowering my arms. Oh, thank God. It’s only Mr. Bernard. He’s the nicest man ever with a kind, wrinkled face and white mop of hair. He’s the one who sneaks me chocolates when my mom isn’t looking. He’s totally safe. I thought it was someone else, someone like my mom or Mrs. Weatherby or any number of snitches.
“Good. Good.” He chuckles. “Though you ladies don’t seem to be doing that well. Are we fighting again?”
I turn around to face him, grinning. “Hey, Mr. B. You know how violent Sky is.”
Sky bumps my shoulder from behind. “Evie isn’t that gentle either.”
“Hey!” I point my finger at her. “I’m gentle, okay? I’m a lady.” I whip back around to face Mr. B. “Tell her, Mr. B. Tell her…” I trail off when I see someone step out from behind Mr. B.
It’s the new boy. Abel.
It’s a surprising thing because Peter Adams, his uncle, never attends Mass. So I figured Abel wouldn’t either. But he is here, all tall and… golden.
His golden hair glints in the sunlight peeking through the polished brown door of the church. He has a silver cross around his neck, and there’s a golden dusting of hair on his tanned forearms. His fingers are long and tanned as well, and they’re wrapped around the strap of his backpack. His backpack? What’s he doing here with that? At church.
Oh my God, is he leaving already?
I whisk my gaze up at his face and realize his eyes are on me. His eyes. They are so warm and brown and syrupy, like thick honey or maple syrup. Oh darn. I need pancakes now, preferably with chocolate chips.
I press my hand to my stomach, feeling hungry, and then hot all over in my summery white dress, like I’ve been sitting outside under the sun for too long.
“Tell her what?” Mr. B prompts with a smile.
Blushing, I look away from Abel and focus on him. “Uh, nothing.”
Great. My voice sounds so unsure. For some reason, I’ve become too shy, and my cheeks feel flushed.
Sky chimes in, then. “You’re the new guy, right?”
I told her about Abel and everything I overheard last night as soon as I arrived at church. Now I’m regretting it. Sky is blunt and she doesn’t even realize that she has no filter. I hope she doesn’t offend him.
Mr. B is the one who answers her. “Yes, this fine young man is Abel Adams. He just moved into town and I found him wandering around the streets so I offered to point him in the right direction.” He turns to Abel. “Isn’t that right?”
Mr. Bernard is a rebel and he’s nice to everyone, no matter what. I’ve always liked him but today I like him so much more.
Abel nods once as a reply to Mr. B’s question, his face serious and made of sharp angles. He’s wearing a black t-shirt again and the cross around his neck seems so silver and shiny, as if it contains an inner light.
“We know. He’s from New York, right? I so wanna go there.” She addresses Abel, “Hey, is it any good? Like what they show on TV?”
Before Abel can answer, Mr. B speaks up, “Nice girls like you aren’t talking about the new boy behind his back, are you? You’d never do that.” He throws us a pointed stare. “Am I right?”
Gosh, I think my cheeks are on fire. Fire. I chance a glance at Abel and his gaze is honed in on me, his jaw that looks so hard and cut, is locked tight and his eyes are darker than they were a few seconds ago. I want to apologize and promise that I’ll never talk about him behind his back.
But Sky answers for the both of us, saying no, and then Mr. B is moving along, taking Abel with him, and they sit on the other side of the church. Though I still have a clear view of his profile.
“Monster baby,” Sky breathes from beside me.
“He’s not a monster,” I snap harshly.
Her black eyebrows are touching her hairline. “Are you kidding me?”
“What?” I look at her with irritation.
“You’re gonna talk to him, aren’t you? You like him.”
“I do not,” I say and fold my hands primly on my lap before turning back to the altar in the front. When will Father Knight get here?
“Oh please.” She rolls her eyes. “You were staring at him and you’ve never stared at a boy like that.”
“I wasn’t staring,” I lie.
“Stop it. I know you.” She gets serious then and shakes my shoulder to get my attention. “Your mom will kill you if you ever so much as look at him, you know that, right? But most importantly, they will burn him alive because you’re the town’s princess.”
“Am not.”
“Oh my God.” She throws her hands up. “Stop lying and listen to me for a second. You are. Your mom’s on the church committee. Your dad owns the largest, most profitable farm in all the three neighboring towns and you guys are friends with the Knight family.” Her face sours when she mentions the Knights — Sky does not like the rich, well-to-do Knights. “People like you, Evie. You do well in classes and you’re friendly with everyone. You are well known so yeah, your mom’s gonna run him out of town if you guys become friends. So do him a favor and stay away from him.”
My eyes feel grainy and strained and there’s a tingling in my nose. I’m going to cry and it’s all stupid because why the heck would I cry? I don’t even know Abel Adams.
Sky is right. My mom would kill me, and then she’d kill him or at the very least, run him out of town. He’s under enough scrutiny as it is. Everyone has noticed his arrival and they are staring at him, whispering about him, giving both him and Mr. B looks filled with judgment. I can’t imagine how that must feel, being picked apart and analyzed.
So yeah, I can’t be friends with David and Delilah’s son, the town’s monster.
But how come all I can think about is that he looks nothing like a monster?
No. Nothing at all.
He looks lonely, sitting there with his jaw all tight, as people stare at him, and all I want to do is go sit by him.