The Bell Rope
Eddie kept his finger beside the words.
Collecting Edward.
The ink had dried into the grain of the paper. He could see where the pen had paused between the two words, leaving a small dark bead.
Above them stood a name.
Mr. Voss.
Nothing more.
Eddie looked up.
“Who is he?”
Agnes held the lamp beside the open kitchen door. Beyond her shoulder, the yard lay dark, with the church a heavier shape against the sky.
“A traveler.”
“That’s what he called himself?”
“Yes.”
“What did he look like?”
She considered the question before answering.
“Tall. Dark coat. Gloves. Carried a stick in his left hand.”
Elias rose from the table.
“Did he enter the house?”
“No.”
“Did you invite him?”
Agnes looked at him sharply.
“No.”
Eddie moved the book toward his uncle.
“Why write that where we’d find it?”
Elias read the entry.
His hand settled on the edge of the table.
“Perhaps so you would know.”
“Know what?”
“That he expected you to follow.”
Outside, the church door scraped against its threshold.
Eddie looked toward the sound.
Agnes closed the kitchen door.
This time, she set down the lamp.
***
Rusk had arrived near midnight.
Agnes told them while Elias stood at the window, watching the yard.
The foreman had come on a gray horse, one leg bound and held awkwardly away from the saddle. He had asked for water, directions, and somewhere to sit.
“In that order?”
Eddie asked it without knowing why the order mattered.
“Yes.”
“Did he say where he’d come from?”
“A room he didn’t wish to discuss.”
“And Voss?”
“He was waiting by the church.”
Eddie looked at his uncle.
Elias did not turn from the window.
“Before Rusk arrived?”
Agnes nodded.
“How long before?”
“I saw him at sundown.”
“What did he want?”
“To cross.”
“Did he ask about me?”
“He asked whether I had received a young man traveling with his uncle.”
Eddie felt a cold spot open beneath his breastbone.
“What did you tell him?”
“That I had not.”
“And you let him wait?”
Agnes met his eyes.
“This place has never belonged entirely to me.”
For the first time, Eddie noticed the weariness around her mouth.
It had been there when they arrived, but he had mistaken it for age.
She pulled out a chair.
“Rusk went into the church. Voss followed. Neither came back through the yard.”
“Did you warn him?”
“I told him the road might not return him where he expected.”
“And?”
Agnes looked at the abandoned fourth place.
“He said anywhere would do.”
***
Elias turned from the window.
“Why did you set another place tonight?”
Agnes’s eyes moved toward the plate.
“Because I put out four.”
“Were you expecting someone?”
“I thought I must be.”
Eddie looked at the bread beside it.
A clean knife.
A cup turned upright.
The arrangement troubled him more than the entry in the book.
“When did you notice?”
“Just before you knocked at the gate.”
“Did you try to put it away?”
She nodded.
“What happened?”
“I found it there again.”
The room grew quiet.
Eddie waited for the scrape of the church door.
Nothing came.
At last, Elias took the unused cup and carried it to the shelf.
He placed the knife beside the others in the drawer.
Then he folded the cloth and set the plate in the washbasin.
Agnes watched.
Eddie watched too.
The empty place remained empty.
Elias stood beside the basin for several seconds.
Then he said, “We’ll go together.”
***
They took their coats and the bags they could carry.
The horses remained in the stable.
Agnes promised to keep them fed until someone returned or sent word.
Eddie went to Jack before leaving.
The horse lifted his head from the manger, hay hanging from one side of his mouth.
Eddie checked the latch, though Agnes had already done it.
Then he stood with his hand beneath the mane.
He had ridden Jack toward places he feared.
Leaving him behind felt worse.
“I’ll come get you.”
The promise came before he could examine it.
Jack breathed against his shoulder.
Eddie stayed another moment, listening to the animal eat.
Then he went back to the yard.
Elias and Agnes waited beside the well.
The cover was still shut.
A heavy stone rested on it now.
Eddie did not ask who had put it there.
***
The church smelled of cold plaster and bird feathers.
Agnes entered first, carrying the lamp.
Its light moved across rows of damaged benches. One had collapsed into the aisle. Another stood upside down near the wall, as though someone had begun repairs and walked away.
At the far end, a plain wooden cross hung above a shallow platform.
Eddie looked for the road.
There was none.
Only a narrow door beside the platform.
A bell rope hung near the entrance.
He stopped beneath it.
Outside, he had seen the empty tower.
There was nowhere for the rope to lead.
Elias noticed his glance.
“Leave it.”
“I wasn’t going to pull it.”
“Good.”
Agnes walked farther into the church.
Her lamp revealed a strip of clean floor.
Dust lay on either side, but the center had been swept.
Footprints crossed it.
One man had favored his right leg.
A deep print.
Then a shallower one, dragged slightly at the toe.
Beside those marks ran another line.
Evenly spaced.
Narrow heels.
The occasional round impression of a walking stick.
Eddie crouched.
“Rusk.”
“Yes,” Agnes said.
The prints led toward the small door.
Voss’s stopped beside the last bench.
Eddie followed them with the lamp.
No turn.
No marks returning.
Elias stood over his shoulder.
“Enough to know they came this way.”
“Where did the other one go?”
“We may find out.”
His uncle’s voice carried no encouragement.
Eddie straightened.
***
The narrow door had no handle on their side.
An iron ring lay flat against it.
Agnes lifted the ring and knocked once.
Eddie stepped back before he could prevent it.
She glanced at him.
“Not every knock belongs to the same thing.”
“How do you know which is which?”
“Usually because I know who’s doing it.”
From beyond the door came a faint sound of running water.
Agnes waited.
Then she pulled.
The door opened inward.
Beyond it lay a passage of stone.
Cold air moved through the church, carrying the smell of damp earth and distant smoke.
Eddie looked back.
The broken benches remained.
The cross.
The rope hanging from an empty tower.
Ahead, a few shallow steps descended beyond the reach of the lamp.
Agnes took a small iron key from her pocket and handed it to Elias.
“For the return.”
His uncle looked at it without taking it.
“You kept it.”
“Yes.”
“I thought—”
“You thought several things.”
He accepted the key.
Eddie watched her close his fingers around it.
“Does it open this door?”
“From the other side,” Agnes said.
“And if we come to a different door?”
“Then don’t assume it fits.”
***
Agnes went down three steps.
Enough to hold the lamp below the lintel.
She waited while they passed.
Eddie turned beside her.
“You’re staying?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Someone ought to know which way you went.”
It was an answer he understood.
He looked back into the church.
For a moment, he could hear Calder’s voice as clearly as if the farmer stood among the benches.
*Other side’s open.*
Eddie adjusted the strap across his shoulder.
Agnes held the lamp toward him.
“Take this.”
“You’ll be in the dark.”
“I have another.”
He accepted it.
The brass was warm from her hand.
Then she stepped back into the church.
The door remained open.
Eddie waited for it to shut.
It did not.
“Come along,” Elias said.
They descended.
***
The passage was longer than the church.
Eddie knew that before they reached the first bend.
He counted his steps at first, then stopped when the number began to feel like something he might lose and need to recover.
The walls were damp.
Here and there, old tool marks showed beneath a thin skin of mineral.
His uncle walked with one hand near the stone but rarely touched it.
“Were you here before?”
“Yes.”
“This passage?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Elias slowed.
For several steps, there was only the sound of their boots.
Then he said, “I heard my father.”
Eddie tightened his grip on the lamp.
“Did you see him?”
“No.”
“What did he say?”
“That he was hurt.”
His uncle stopped beside the bend.
“He called from a side passage. I followed. The floor gave way beneath me.”
“Your shoulder.”
“And two ribs.”
Eddie looked into the darkness ahead.
“How did Agnes find you?”
“She heard me calling.”
“How did you know it was her?”
“I didn’t.”
The answer remained between them.
Elias shifted the bag on his shoulder.
“She put a rope into my hands. Then she put her own hand on mine.”
Eddie thought of Calder pulling him from the water.
He followed his uncle around the bend.
***
They reached an arch.
Beyond it stood a little room with a bench along one wall.
A man sat there mending a boot.
He looked up as they entered.
His hair had been cut close. His coat hung from a peg, and his sleeves were rolled neatly above his wrists.
Beside him rested a second lamp.
Its glass had gone almost black with smoke.
“Evening,” he said.
Eddie did not answer immediately.
Elias did.
“Evening.”
The man looked at their bags.
“Traveling far?”
“North Lantern House.”
The needle stopped.
Only briefly.
Then it passed through the leather.
“House still taking guests?”
“So we’re told.”
The man nodded.
“Road’s through there.”
He indicated an open arch behind him.
Eddie could see pale ground beyond it.
A night sky.
Something in his chest eased at the sight of space.
Then he noticed the bell rope.
It hung beside the bench.
Same frayed end.
Same pale patch where countless hands had gripped it.
He looked back through the passage.
The church was far out of sight.
The man with the boot followed his gaze.
“Something wrong?”
“Where does that go?”
“Up.”
Eddie waited.
The man smiled faintly.
“Most ropes do.”
Elias touched Eddie’s sleeve.
They moved toward the arch.
As Eddie passed, the man set down the boot.
“Edward.”
Eddie stopped.
His uncle’s hand tightened.
The man sat with both palms resting on his knees.
“You’ve left something.”
Eddie looked at his bag.
Closed.
The lamp in his hand.
His uncle beside him.
“What?”
The man’s eyes moved toward Eddie’s chest.
“Wouldn’t want to arrive incomplete.”
Elias pulled him through the arch.
This time, Eddie went.
Behind them, the bell began to ring.
***
They stood on a road beneath a gray sky.
No moon.
No stars.
The ground ahead shone faintly, pale enough to follow between low banks of dark grass.
Eddie turned.
The arch remained.
Inside, the man had picked up his boot again.
He was smiling.
Elias took the lamp from Eddie and set it on the ground.
“Look at me.”
“I’m here.”
“Tell me.”
“On the road.”
“With?”
“You.”
His uncle watched until Eddie’s breathing steadied.
Then he handed back the lamp.
“We don’t need to answer everyone.”
“He knew my name.”
“Yes.”
“He knew—”
“We don’t know what he knew.”
Eddie looked toward the arch.
It was gone.
Only the road lay behind them.
He stared.
Elias waited.
Then Eddie said, “I liked it better when there was a door.”
His uncle gave a short, weary laugh.
“So did I.”
***
They walked.
The road felt firm beneath their boots, though it showed no wheel ruts. At intervals, flat stones stood near the edge.
Some bore marks.
Some were blank.
Eddie kept his eyes forward.
The bell faded behind them, one note at a time, until he could no longer separate it from memory.
Ahead, something moved across the road.
Elias stopped.
A small cart emerged from the grass, pulled by a woman in a patched coat.
She walked backward, both hands gripping the shafts.
The cart carried covered jars.
A little bell hung beneath it.
This one did not ring.
She stopped when she saw them.
“Which way?”
Her voice was hoarse.
Elias pointed along the road they had traveled.
“To the crossing.”
She looked.
Then at the sky.
“Still open?”
“When we left.”
The woman closed her eyes briefly.
Eddie could see the effort it took her to open them again.
“How far?” she asked.
“We haven’t been walking long,” he said.
She gave him a look he did not understand.
Elias answered differently.
“One arch. A room with a bench.”
The woman nodded.
“That’s better.”
She pulled the cart past them.
One wheel struck a stone, and something beneath the cloth knocked against glass.
Eddie reached to steady the cart.
The woman caught his wrist.
“Leave it.”
He withdrew his hand.
For a moment, they stood looking at one another.
Then she released him.
“Sorry,” she said. “Kindness makes people careless.”
She resumed pulling.
After a few steps, she stopped again.
“Where are you bound?”
“North Lantern House.”
Her eyes moved to Eddie’s chest.
He could not tell whether she had noticed the stiff way he held himself or something else.
“Tell Vale the southern road’s changing.”
“What should we say changed?”
She looked toward the grass.
“Tell him I had to leave the river.”
Then she went on.
***
The road climbed.
At the crest, the land opened beneath them.
A town stood in the hollow.
Roofs crowded around narrow streets. Lamps burned at corners and above doorways, their light small and yellow against the dark buildings.
Beyond the town ran a river.
Eddie could hear it from where they stood.
A broad, steady movement.
Its surface reflected nothing.
No lamps.
No sky.
On the nearer edge of town, a building rose beside the road with a lantern above its entrance.
Three stories.
Deep porch.
Shutters closed along one side.
Elias stopped.
For a long time, he did not speak.
Eddie watched his face.
“You’ve never seen it.”
His uncle shook his head.
“Only in letters.”
The house below seemed very still.
Then its front door opened.
A man stepped onto the porch carrying a lamp.
Even at that distance, Eddie saw him look directly toward them.
As though he had been waiting for the moment they reached the ridge.
***
Thomas Vale met them at the bottom.
He had come out far enough that the house stood several yards behind him.
Eddie recognized something familiar in the way he carried the lamp.
Careful.
Held away from his coat.
A working man’s habit, learned near oil and moving machinery.
“Elias?”
His uncle stopped.
“Yes.”
Thomas lowered the lamp slightly.
For a moment, he looked relieved.
Then his gaze moved to Eddie.
“And the mechanic.”
“Edward Bone.”
“I know.”
Eddie waited for the unease that usually followed those words.
It came.
But Thomas seemed to notice.
“Your uncle sent letters. Mary Jane sent a name. I haven’t plucked it from the air.”
Eddie nodded.
That helped.
Elias stepped closer.
“My father.”
“He’s inside.”
The words struck his uncle visibly.
He put one hand against his coat.
“Alive?”
Thomas looked toward the porch.
“He eats. Sleeps. Complains about the stairs.”
Elias closed his eyes.
For a moment, Eddie thought he might fall.
He moved beside him.
His uncle’s hand found his arm and held it hard.
Then he let go.
“Take me to him.”
***
At the foot of the porch, Thomas stopped Eddie.
Not with his hands.
Only by standing where the step narrowed.
Elias had already reached the door.
Thomas looked at him.
“Give me a moment.”
His uncle hesitated.
Then nodded.
Eddie could hear movement inside the house.
A chair.
Footsteps above.
He kept his eyes on Thomas.
“What is it?”
“Did anyone ask you to stop on the road?”
“A man. At a bench.”
“Did you give him anything?”
“No.”
“Did you promise anything?”
“No.”
Thomas’s shoulders eased.
“Anyone else?”
“A woman with a cart. She said the southern road was changing.”
The older man looked past him toward the ridge.
“She came through?”
“She was heading out.”
“What did she say exactly?”
“That she had to leave the river.”
Thomas stood very still.
From inside the house came a voice.
“Thomas?”
An older man.
Impatient with fear.
Elias turned toward it.
Eddie heard his uncle answer.
“Father.”
The word nearly drew him past Thomas.
But the keeper remained in the way.
“One more thing.”
Eddie looked back.
Thomas lowered his voice.
“Rusk is here.”
For several seconds, Eddie could not speak.
Then he looked through the doorway.
“No.”
“I thought you ought to hear it before you saw him.”
“He’s meant to be in custody.”
“I gathered.”
“Did Voss bring him?”
Thomas’s expression changed.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“At the church.”
The keeper looked toward the ridge again.
This time, he stayed looking.
Eddie followed his gaze.
A figure stood where the road met the gray horizon.
Too far away to make out a face.
Close enough to see the walking stick.
Thomas stepped aside.
“Inside.”
***
Eddie entered North Lantern House with the sound of his uncle crying somewhere beyond the stairs.
It was a quiet sound.
Almost unrecognizable.
He wanted to go toward it.
Instead, his attention caught on the ledger lying open behind the desk.
A page of names.
Room numbers.
Dates.
One entry had been ruled through in black.
**Room Four — Mr. Voss.**
Beneath it, in another hand:
**No room granted.**
Thomas closed the front door.
He slid the first bolt.
Then the second.
Eddie looked at him.
“Will that keep him out?”
The keeper rested one hand against the wood.
“It will tell him the door is shut.”
Outside, the walking stick touched the bottom step.
Once.
Then another step.
Thomas turned toward Eddie.
“Whatever he says, let him say it from there.”
The footsteps stopped.
A courteous knock sounded at the door.
Three measured blows.
Eddie stood beside the desk, his hand closing around the strap of his bag.
From the other side came a calm, unfamiliar voice.
“Mr. Bone.”
Thomas did not move.
The voice continued.
“I believe you have been carrying something of mine.”
Hello World!!! 2