Chapter 30

Tom Von Aldo does not go to The House.

Not long after leaving Bruton at the lake, he's killed by sulfuric gas in the region north of the glen, along with Johnson and Birdsall,who had been leading tourists on “volcano outings” – hikes around the woodland in search of volcanic activity. Of course there was no volcanic activity. The point of the outings was to show there was no volcano. The small fee charged for the sarcastic diversions benefited Fair Mantle Village’s educational programs.

The outings took place in a three-square-mile area around the glen. Johnson and Birdsall, who had resigned from the parks service, wanted to widen the area to five square miles. Before they could bring tourists into the area, they first had to explore it themselves. They asked Tom along so he would be among the first to see whatever they happened to find.

They didn’t return. It was past twilight when the Mount Cant’ers realized something was terribly wrong.

Unwritten Mount Can’t policy dictates keeping bad incidents quiet and keeping victims away from the Guard and the media. Accordingly, the bodies are taken from the site by pickup truck and transferred to private hearses on a secluded drive at the old reservoir three miles up the road.

Farrell is at the visitors center, waiting for Bruton to return from the site, when in walks Effen, his overcoat unsuccessfully hiding jeans and blazer. Matt and Ben and Harry are on their way to the reservoir Effen has already spoken to Gustie. He didn’t know that she was surrounded by Mount Cant’ers. The girls are with her parents.
“How are things here?”

Farrell can’t say. “The Villagers are shaken up, that’s for sure. But Brut doesn’t want gnashing of teeth and beating of breasts. We have to keep quiet. Can’t alarm the Guard.
”
“Are you alarmed?”

“I’m wondering it if wasn’t methane, a natural swamp gas found in wooded areas. There weren’t any tremors before it happened.”

“Sulfuric gas needn’t be released by tremors. Previous activity like what we had the other morning could have left fissures. The gas could vent through the fissures.”

“All right, now I’m alarmed.” The lines around her mouth tighten. Her face pales.

Effen strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. His smile is disturbed. “I was going to ask you to be there while I told Gustie. It would have been good to have some womanly support. For me, not for Gustie! Thank goodness, I’m not a policeman. I’d die before I made a living bearing sad tidings.”

Farrell’s never known him to be nervous, but he’s nervous tonight. She hears it in his voice. His hand is shaking worse than when he lit the cigarette during the hearing. “How did you, not the medical examiner, end up with everyone?”

The answer is frail. “The way I usually end up with everyone: a phone call. You know, you don’t need the examiner all the time. Only for suspicious deaths. These deaths weren’t suspicious.”

“But they were unnatural and unattended. And they were on state property.”

“Does it matter?”

Farrell hesitates. “I know you know your business, and I know Brut is well acquainted with procedure. I also appreciate why the Mount Cant’ers would want to do everything in their power to disasters under wraps. But this is sulfuric gas. It killed those guys. The authorities should know what’s happened here.”

“The authorities will know. In time. But right now, Tom and Johnson and Birdsall have to be moved without stirring up the press. And without stirring up the people. Think of what the people will say, Farr! They’ll say Tom was wrong and the state was right; there really is a volcano forming up here. Can’t you imagine what’s going to happen when people believe the thing is real?”

She doesn’t have to wait long. Vehicles are bumping down the lane in a frenzied escape from the park.

Farrell and Effen stand in the doorway, catching the draft of the retreat. They anticipate being trapped at the village for a few hours.

Farrell feels the flesh on her temples crawl up toward the crown of her head. It’s as if every hair is standing on end. The sound of all those heavy motors and bouncing steel bodies doesn’t help. She doesn’t deny it’s a good time to be seventy miles away. She moves away from the door.

Effen reaches out to her. “Are you all right?”

She nods, at the same time runs for the ladies room, where she heaves air. She’s not thrilled about throwing up, but it’s better to retch nerves, not lunch.

When she’s finished, Effen, who ran in after her, takes her in his arms and clutches her as though shielding her from a world ready to explode in their faces.


By midnight, the National Guard reclaims Mount Can’t, putting it off limits to the public. No one can return, not even the staff of Fair Mantle Village. The collections will be moved at a later date.

As word of the deaths spreads, so does panic. A mob descends on Borough Hall, demanding to know why the state didn’t evacuate everybody as soon as the volcano had been discovered.

Elected officials and pastors plead for calm. Medical experts say it’s likely the deaths were caused by methane, not sulfur. It doesn’t matter. Nothing works. Terrified residents take their children out of school, pack of belongings and flee town. Some board up windows in the hope of warding off looters in their absence. People intent on staying are also intent on preserving their property at any cost: proprietors of hunting stores in neighboring towns report record sales of rifles and sidearms.

The exodus jams the road out of town. State troopers direct traffic while local police keep an eye out for looters. National Guard Military Police roll into town to help keep away the curious, mostly by setting up checkpoints and coughing along in open-top Jeeps.
Though the town is closed, the state doesn’t order an evacuation. Residents and business people can come and go as they please.

Within twenty-four hours the town has lost nearly two-thirds of its population. Panic has been replaced by a hush Effen likens to the stillness of a person unable to leap from the railroad tracks before the train hits.

Services for Tom and Johnson and Birdsall have yet to be arranged.

Effen goes to see Gustie at the cottage she shared with Tom. The girls are still with her parents. Though it’s afternoon, she’s in nightgown and robe. She’s been crying, Her nose is red; her face is puffy. Her eyes are now dry and glazed. It seems to Effen that it takes her a moment to recognize him. Unnerved, Effen offers to return. He thinks she’s going to shut the door in his face. He follows her stare to the envelope in his hand, an unaddressed business envelope with the name and address of The House on the back flap. “I wish I could give you as much every week. It’s not as easy as it used to be, now that the horselets are gone.” He holds out the envelope.

Gustie doesn’t seem to notice that she’s still holding open the door and Effen’s standing at the threshold. Why won’t she let him in? Should he ask to come in? Should he just go in?

She steps back as he edges between her and the doorframe. She doesn’t stop him from closing the door. Can she guess what he’s going to say? “I really think you and the girls shouldn’t stay around here. I’d like you to go to my parents in Virginia.”

The news has no effect on Gustie, whose muteness reminds Effen of that day in his office. “If you’re not going to speak to me, why did you answer the door?”

The cottage is cold. It would be. The door was open. Or has she set the thermostat low to conserve the heating bill?

“At least it’s warmer in Virginia. And my parents would love to see you and the girls. I spoke to them this morning.”

She stares. At him.

“If you don’t bring the girls to Virginia, I’ll bring them myself. They can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

“What’s not safe.” Effen senses derision in what she says, which is a flat-toned statement, not a question. “I remember the cat you had in your frat house. The thing had been crying at your door all day. You and the guys had local animal control trap it and take it away, then you adopted it when nobody claimed it. You brought it back to the pound when you saw it had worms.”

What’s this got to do with getting out of Fair Mantle? “As I recall, we were all peeved at the vet for releasing the animal in that condition. We didn’t trust her to remedy the situation. Besides, that’s ancient history. Nothing to do with what’s happening here.”
“You laughed when you told me the story.”

“I might have laughed. I was only nineteen. And I was living with a horde that covered the pizza with the stuff you drain from spaghetti sauce instead of the sauce. They’d thrown out the real sauce, remember? They didn’t act out of malice They meant well. They weren’t chefs, that’s all.”

“The business with the cat was wrong, and the pizza sauce was wrong. You knew better both times, yet you didn’t try to make your friends see what they were doing.”

“They weren’t my friends. They were associates. You don’t understand much about the business world, Gust. You’ve got to make alliances. Life is a never-ending exercise in politics. Sometimes you compromise. Sometimes war breaks out. Now please go to Virginia before something worse than war erupts here.”

“Will you join us there?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“As soon as I’m certain that Matt and Ben can handle things on their own.”

“They’ve already had practice.”

Is she pressuring him to go with her? He wants to assure her with a kiss. He decides she might think he’s manipulating her. Perhaps he is. He places the envelope in her hands. “Go. I’ll catch up with you.”

Effen leaves Gustie confident he’s done everything he can to convince her to leave Fair Mantle. He doesn’t see how long she stays where he’s left her. When she does choose to act, she showers, changes, and says a rosary which she puts in her pocket. She calls her parents and asks them to bring the girls home; she’d like to bring them to a private memorial service the rangers have organized for that evening.

Gustie says nothing about going to Virginia. She doesn’t want her parents to be hurt by her decision to take away the girls. She won’t even kiss her parents goodbye, lest she cause them more distress – and incite their suspicion.

She tells the girls they’re going to Nana’s farm in Virginia. The car’s already packed. All they’ve got to do is go.

She buckles them into the back seat and shivers as she starts the car. “Brrr, it’s cold! Mommy’s going to warm up the car before we leave, okay?”

The girls don’t see Mommy placing an envelope on the seat beside her.

The garage door is still closed.

They don’t see that, either.