Starry Night Who: NPCs What: A Story Where: Utah When: The Past
Suzanne King came from a quiet family. They lived in Castle Valley, Utah. They didn’t own a television set, but Suzanne liked music and had a record player and a sizable collection of vinyl records in her bedroom. She preferred full, bombastic sound and listened on large headphones that squashed down her ears, but were a requirement so as not to disturb her parents’ meditation circles and rituals. She would get lost in the sound of Jimmy Page’s wailing guitar while her mother burnt sage and her father cleansed auras.
To any outsider looking in, they might have been written off as new age hippies peddling nonsense. And to some small degree, that might have been true, but her family also possessed a real power that Suzanne had witnessed personally countless times. They had healed people, helped others out of seemingly hopeless situations, driven malicious spirits out of people’s homes. The Kings also belonged to a church and identified as Christians, which was confounding to some of their close friends. But the congregation was a surprisingly liberal one for the area and for that time period. They believed that magic and religion were closely entwined, and they were welcomed there.
It was the autumn of 1983, shortly after Suzanne’s 20th birthday, when she met Lyle Henry through that same church. It was a balmy, bright Sunday, and that week’s service had just ended. She spotted a stranger talking to their reverend. He looked older than her, but there was an energy about him that seemed strong and youthful. She approached them slowly, an apologetic smile already on her face though she hadn’t yet interrupted their conversation. It was the reverend who spotted her first.
“Oh, here’s one of our parishioners now,” he told the stranger with a bright smile. “Suzanne and her family have been coming to our little church for decades now. Suzanne, this is Lyle. He’s come from Moab in the hopes of recruiting people to his...what did you call it, again?”
As the reverend spoke, Suzanne had been studying Lyle carefully. He had sandy blond hair that caught the light that streamed in from the church’s windows and dark, almost navy colored eyes that crinkled when he flashed her a smile. His clothes were plain and nondescript, and as he reached up to scratch at a spot on his neck, a thin golden band on his ring finger caught her attention. For some reason, she could feel a flush of red in her cheeks.
“We’re a group that’s concerned with the declining morality we’ve been seeing in this country,” said Lyle, looking directly into her eyes. “I’ve been traveling to different congregations, seeking out like-minded individuals. The goal is to have enough people on board so that we might start reaching out to those living a godless life and change some hearts and minds.” His voice was smooth and confident, and almost lyrical. It somehow didn’t matter what the words meant, she just wanted him to talk some more.
“What do you mean by godless?” Suzanne asked curiously. While she had been brought up in a household that believed in a particular god, she also didn’t believe that was the only one. Her parents thought along the same lines. They had friends who were fellow magic practitioners that didn’t believe in one particular path, and they were good people.
“People who wallow in excess,” he replied steadily. There was also a note of sadness to his voice. “People who are so blinded by what they want, they don’t see what they already have. God has given us everything we need, but they just keep wanting more. And it’s destroying the world.”
Lyle kept coming to the church every Sunday after that. Each time, he would stay after the service and mingle, talking to everybody. Each time, Suzanne would sit behind him and watch the back of his head as he bowed his head in prayer or sang. And he really sang, not mouthing the words like some others did. She focused on his voice, and it was steady and beautiful but also melancholic. Each time they spoke, she was afraid to ask him about that gold ring.
The second Sunday in October, he approached her and asked her if she would like to go hiking with him. Suzanne wasn’t really interested in hiking. She appreciated nature and what it provided in terms of magic, but the idea sounded arduous. Still, she accepted because she wanted to spend time with him outside the confines of the church.
Lyle picked her up in an old Buick that sputtered when it came to a stop outside her home. They drove to Arches National Park. Suzanne had to admit that it was breathtakingly beautiful. As they walked, he would take her hand occasionally to help guide her over patches of rough terrain, and she could feel the cool metal of that wedding ring pressing against her palm.
After about an hour, they stopped to sit and rest. The sun was about to set, and the burst of color over sandstone seemed almost too pretty to be real. She sat beside him, overly aware of the proximity of his form. Suzanne wanted to rest her head against his shoulder. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her.
As if reading her mind, he spoke up. “This is too much.” His voice was quiet, almost timid. He stared straight ahead, his blue eyes dark and cloudy with troubled thoughts. “I’m married.” Finally, Lyle turned to look at her. He reached out and brushed a lock of her dark, wavy hair behind her ear. “And all I can think about is you.”
Suzanne opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I won’t be seeing you anymore,” he said, resolutely. “And I won’t be coming back to the church.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked him, her voice dry, words squeezing past the tightening in her throat.
He shook his head slowly, gaze dropping away from hers. “It’s not about what I want. It’s about what I need to do. What I promised to do.” Lyle twisted the wedding band around his finger and swallowed visibly. “I’m sorry if you...if an attachment formed. That wasn’t my intention.” He got to his feet slowly and held out his hand to help her up. She didn’t take it.
She stood up and looked away from him, drawing her knitted sweater closer around her. “I’d like to go home now.”
When Lyle dropped her back at the house, they said a stilted goodbye to one another, and she closed the car door behind her and hurried inside. She didn’t let her emotions show until she was safely ensconced in her bedroom. Suzanne laid on her bed and closed her eyes, and eventually she drifted to sleep.
Three years passed without her seeing him again. She celebrated her 23rd birthday, though she still lived at home with her family. Suzanne didn’t really mind. The world at large felt daunting, and home was safe. She helped her parents with healing spells, enrolled part-time at Utah State, took classes in religious studies.
Then one day, the doorbell rang when she was home alone. The sound was jarring. People typically just came in, their home was known as a welcoming place and they had wards to keep out anyone who meant them harm. She threw open the door only to see Lyle standing there, a small child in his arms.
“I wanted you to meet my son,” he said by way of greeting, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Suzanne looked down at the sleepy, solemn looking toddler. He was a miniature version of his father, except for the eyes, which were a lighter blue. His hair was long and curly. She wanted to ask what the point was, why he had come there, and if his wife knew where he and their little boy was.
Instead, she said, “Hi. What’s his name?”
“Caleb. His name is Caleb.” Lyle ran his hand over the boy’s head. “Can I come in?”
Fifteen minutes later, Lyle and Suzanne were sitting at the family dinner table, steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. Caleb was on the floor in the living room with some toys, in their line of sight. They were quiet, not saying anything until Lyle finally broke the silence. “We lost his mother,” he said, his voice low. “Six months ago. I’ve been by myself, you know. My parents are in Oklahoma, and they couldn’t help anyway even if they were here.”
Her hands tightened around her mug. “I’m sorry, Lyle.” She didn’t know what else to say. Suzanne had never felt loss like that. People in their periphery had died, and it was sad, but nothing like losing a wife and the mother of their child. She couldn’t even imagine. She looked at the oblivious child and felt a pang in her heart. “We could help you. Our community. If you came back…”
He gave her a smile. That was exactly what he had been wanting to hear. “Actually, I…” Lyle trailed off, looking down into the inky blackness of his cup and shook his head sadly. “No, you’ll think I’m crazy.”
“No, I won’t. What is it?” Suzanne felt something skip inside of her, like a record gone off the track. She thought of the last time they were together, how exciting it had been to hear that he had feelings for her, only to be followed by the crash back to reality. And maybe there was a little bit of disgust at herself, too. Because she might have been slightly excited by the prospect of finally having him to herself. A woman is dead, she reminded herself sternly. Get a hold of yourself.
“I’ve been having visions of...well, of you.” Lyle took a sip of coffee. “I know it sounds strange, but I’ve never felt so sure of something. I think we’re meant to be together.” He reached out and put one hand over hers.
That hand on hers made her heart leap into her throat. She hadn’t been expecting to hear that. She thought maybe he was about to ask her on a date. “I...I’m not sure what to say,” Suzanne answered, looking again at Caleb. She was only 23, and to be honest, kids sort of scared her. They seemed so fragile and impressionable. “I like you. I liked you the day I met you.” She tried to picture living with Lyle, being a mother. What it would be like. She had never even seen where he lived.
“Why don’t you pray on it?” he suggested gently. “I’ll be around.” He stood up from his chair, then spontaneously leaned down and kissed the top of her head. After he and Caleb had left and Suzanne had washed their cups, she sat in her bedroom, thinking. The more she thought about it, the more appealing the idea became. It would give her a path, something to follow. As it was, she was drifting through space, watching her life instead of living it. It felt strangely noble. Leaving home -- even if it was only 20 miles away -- and taking care of a husband and child. And maybe even having children of her own. And they would travel together, and she wouldn’t be alone.
It was her parents’ reaction when she brought it up later at dinner that cinched it. They told her how they had felt about Lyle, that he was a meddler who took the bible too literally, who they had overheard criticize the church and their family personally. Suzanne had never rebelled before, had never needed to. But hearing her usually placid, accepting family spit venom about the man made her somehow want him even more. A week later, she had packed one bagful of belongings and left the rest behind.
When she arrived at the house in Moab, she was shocked at the condition of the place. Lyle had told her he was building the place by hand, but she wasn’t expecting something so..ramshackle. The plumbing was still in the process of being installed, and the walls inside were still plywood, with only some rooms containing finished drywall. The land itself was expansive yet harsh-looking. And the biggest surprise was that Lyle also had another son, a five year old named Aaron.
But the idea of turning tail and going back to her parents, admitting they were right, felt somehow worse. And she felt bad for those boys. Lyle was always going on ‘missions’, leaving them in the care of strangers who stayed at what he called ‘the compound’, fellow believers of a looming doomsday caused by an onslaught of sin. Suzanne had never seen a gun up close before, and they had tons of them, all different sizes. The food was prepared communally in a kitchen where a length of hose drawn through the window was used in lieu of running water. Plastic sheeting tacked to the walls and unfinished windows kept the draft out at night.
Lyle and Suzanne were wed in a tiny ceremony in the backyard a month later. She didn’t invite her own parents because she didn’t want them to see the state of the place, which only further drove a wedge between them. There was no marriage license. The kids didn’t have social security numbers, they didn’t go to school. As time passed, she forgot more and more what her past life had been like. Shortly after that, she became pregnant.
She gave birth to two boys, one in 1987, the other in 1990. Suzanne kept hoping for a girl. Life became a little easier once the house was finished. They added additions to it to house more people, and worked on making the land more tenable. Their numbers grew. Lyle was good at luring in strangers with his words, lost-looking people who had tried everything and still hadn’t found their place. It seemed like she wouldn’t have any more children, until one day she collapsed on the kitchen floor.
The girl was the only one born in an actual hospital. Dark hair, blue eyes. Suzanne held her in her arms, exhausted. Lyle wasn’t there, he had refused to set foot inside the building. Instead, it was Aaron who kept her company. The thirteen year old liked the hospital food. It took her a few days to come up with a name, but eventually she did while lying in the uncomfortable bed, listening to the steady beep of machines and staring up at the blank white ceiling. The drugs they gave her were good, brought her back to a time when she was younger, and would smoke and listen to music, imagining a star-filled sky.
Celeste was the name she chose, and later at home she lied and told Lyle that it was a tribute to the heavens that God had made for them. But really, it was about freedom, of a life worth exploring and traveling and not being tied to a shoddily built home that more resembled a dormitory for a homegrown army. She would be Suzanne’s youngest, though there was one more child a few years later, one fathered by Lyle but not belonging to her, a boy named Bobby. At that point, Suzanne found it very hard to care.
When Celeste finally left, she thought she would finally understand how her own parents had felt. Instead, Suzanne found that she felt relieved, and bitterly jealous. It was a strange combination, and something she would never admit to anyone. Instead, she simply mirrored Lyle’s disapproval. Things carried on much the same without her daughter there, until one day the man died in his sleep. And even then, there was no sense of freedom, especially when Caleb took over.
Then the news came, shocking and confusing. Caleb was dead, too, seemingly gone the same way as his father, quietly in a hotel room in Las Vegas, of all places. Without his leadership, things started to splinter and fall apart. People drifted away. Aaron, the eldest, never had a knack for leading and had a lazy streak a mile wide. Suzanne felt as if she were presiding over a ghost town of children and grandchildren, a few stragglers who still believed in the message. She thought of Celeste out in that big, wide, daunting world.