Flesh for Satan

"But consorting with these pious elders, chaste dames, and dewy virgins were men of dissolute lives and women of spotted fame. It was strange to see that the good shrank not from the wicked, nor were the sinners abashed by the saints."

-Nathanial Hawthorne, "Young Goodman Brown"

***

Cassie knew what the red envelope meant as soon as it fell through the mail slot. She held it in two fingers, as if it might catch on fire. When her mother saw it she practically squealed, throwing her arms around Cassie in an enormous hug.

"I'm so proud of you," she said.

"It's not a big deal," said Cassie. "Everyone gets one sooner or later."

But her voice trembled a little anyway, and she twisted a curl of hair around one finger while she waited for her heart to stop fluttering.

"I know that," her mother said. "But I'm proud of what it means. You're all grown up."

The letter was identical to the ones that had been sent to her friends previously: black ink on red paper, with the town seal at the bottom. It was her formal invitation to her first Lodge meeting. Kids who grew up here usually got their invitations a little after their 18th birthday. Cassie's birthday had come and gone months ago, and for a while she'd thought maybe she wasn't going to get one. But here it was.

She ran upstairs to get ready for practice and tucked the invitation into the frame of her bureau mirror. Meetings were held at the big, rambling Lodge House, where everyone gathered on the last day of each month (New Year's Eve this time). She wasn't sure exactly what they all did up there; Lodge meetings were secret from non-members, even family. Mom (who had gotten her invitation three months after they moved here) wouldn't talk about it, and the other kids in town said it was the same with their own parents.

Nobody seemed particularly interested in ferreting out the secret, either. "It's probably just boring grown-up stuff," as a neighborhood playmate had put it years ago. And anyway, they would all eventually get their own invitations and find out for themselves, one day.

More than likely it was just the same as the Elks or the Soroptimists, talking about charity or town history or something like that, Cassie thought as she changed. It didn't really matter what the meetings were about, anyway. What mattered was that you belonged.

She thought about the coming New Year as she slid into her cheerleader uniform. This year would be the end of high school, the beginning of college, and her first time on her own. It might be a year for other first-time things as well, she thought, as she removed the earrings Steve had given her for Christmas and put his varsity letter jacket on. But she put that thought away almost immediately, as she always did.

She skipped down the stairs and kissed her mother on the cheek. Mom, elbow-deep in dishwater, blinked at the sight of the uniform. "Well look at you. Aren't you on break from school?"

"Yes, but Coach Rayner still wants squad practice once a week. She says we got too rusty over the summer and she doesn't want a repeat of that time we dropped Marie. I'll be home by dark, okay?"

She banged out the door and down the walkway, waving to the milkman (Mr. Aron). It was a warm day for December, full of the drip-drip-drip of melting snow, and she waved at everyone else she knew as she passed the fading tinsel of their Christmas trees in each window. There was the old school librarian who lived on the corner (Ms. Baylock, retired), and the nice man around the block who helped Mom with the plumbing whenever it acted up (Mr. Poelzig).

Cassie hummed a few bars of some old Christmas carol as she walked. She could never remember what song it actually was, but it always came back to her this time of year. She loved the holidays, even this burnt-out week between Christmas and New Year's when most people start to get depressed. To Cassie it was a quiet, cozy time, when she felt most like a kid again.

Marie was already at the bus stop, and as soon as she saw Cassie coming she grinned like the Cheshire Cat. She was wearing her own uniform, as well as her ex-boyfriend Glen's varsity jacket. Marie had broken up with Glen on Halloween but refused to give his jacket back. She wore it every day simply because she knew the rest of the team teased him about it.

Before Cassie could even say hello Marie blurted out, "Did you get it?"

Cassie blinked. "My invitation? Yes, this morning. How did you know?"

"Mom is Lodge secretary. She told me she'd sent it out. Oh no!"

Marie actually covered her mouth.

"I'm not supposed to tell who the officers are. Oh, but it doesn't matter, you'll know everything yourself soon. It's going to be so much fun having you at the meetings now." Marie had joined the Lodge last summer.

"I actually didn't think I was going to get one," Cassie said, settling in to wait for the county bus.

"Everyone gets one eventually," said Marie.

"That's what they say, but I figured...well, I didn't really grow up here the way you all did."

"You've lived here since you were 13 years old."

"Yeah. But..." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter," she said, and forced a smile. "I guess all I mean is that I never really got the Lodge the way you all do. Nobody does anything like it back in the city."

"It's just something people in little towns do. It's natural. Cassie!" Marie drew her name out as long as she could. "You're not scared or something, are you?"

"No. But I'm anxious."

She blinked. She WAS anxious. She hadn't even realized it until she said it. But that was normal, right? You always felt anxious before big things happened, especially your first time.

"You're such a kid," said Marie. "Look, EVERYONE does it, so it can't be anyhing that bad. Right?"

"I guess that makes sense..."

"Anyway, you'll know everything soon, and then you'll see. I just can't believe how excited I am for you!"

Marie had taken Cassie under her wing in the 8th grade and made it her personal mission to get Cassie to do anything Marie had done first. Marie was the reason she was on the cheerleading squad, and the reason she was dating Steve, for example, who had briefly been Marie's boyfriend before she declaring that he and Cassie were "better for each other, and everyone can see it."

Anything Marie wanted usually happened.

Before Cassie could reply they were interrupted by a honk and the arrival of a shiny, candy-apple red car with the top down. It gleamed so bright in the gray December sun that Cassie was dazzled, and she took a second to recognize the driver. "Steve?" she said.

He smiled. "Come on, I'll give you both a ride."

Cassie put her hand on the car door, not sure if it was real. "Whose is—? Where did you—?"

"Late Christmas present from my uncle. He drove it all the way from California. Says it'll double as a graduation present."

"Steve, holy shit!" said Marie, clamoring into the back seat.

"Language," said Cassie, getting into the passenger seat. She gave Steve a small kiss on the cheek, and buckled her seatbelt. Marie kept hers off and practically fell out when the car roared away from the curb.

Cassie held onto the dash with both hands. "Steve, not so fast."

"Just wanted to show you what it could do. Do you like it?"

"It's incredible," Cassie said. "But how could your uncle afford to just give you something like this?"

They hadn't slowed down yet; the street was a gray and white blur around them. There was only a single stoplight in the entire town, and Steve made sure to go around it, and he gave only passing deference to the stop signs that tried but failed to be as brilliantly red as the car itself as they whizzed by. All the while he smiled with every tooth in his head. His seatbelt wasn't on either.

"He's got dozens just like it," Steve said. "It's what he does: Fixes up old cars and leases them to movie shoots out in Hollywood. Once I'm done with school he's going to bring me out to work for him. That's what he said last night."

He took a corner hard. Marie slid around the backseat, laughing.

"But I don't want to just be working on cars my whole life," Steve said. "It's like I always told you, I'm going to make movies. Uncle Max works with all the big-shot studio guys. Most people think it's directors you have to know, but if you get in good with the people who pay for the movies, that's your ticket. What do you think? Do I have a face for pictures?"

He winked at Cassie and put a hand on her knee. Marie piped in: "Take me with you! If Cassie doesn't want to go, that is."

Cassie felt a hot stab of jealousy. "I don't—!"

Marie laughed. "I'm just teasing, Cass. You're so easy to fool."

The car slid a little in the slush of the school parking lot, but Steve kept it in hand. Cassie wondered if the car would be safe here. Not that anything had ever happened to any student's car, or any other car in town for that matter. Friends always made fun of Cassie for things like locking the front door or never walking at night without company, rules she'd learned growing up in the city.

"You don't have to worry about things like that here," Marie said.

The town had only two cops: Sheriff Marcato (or "Sheriff Lucy," as everyone called her) and her single deputy, her son Tommy. Most weeks there was barely anything for them to do.

Marie hopped out of the car without opening the door. "Thanks for the ride!" she yelled over her shoulder as she ran through puddles of slushy snow. "Cassie, catch up!"

Someone was waiting for her at the other end of the parking lot, but they couldn't make out who. Some new boy? Even Cassie's mom had commented on how many new boyfriends Marie had lately. And how quickly she went through them.

Without taking her seatbelt off, Cassie twisted around to face Steve. His sandy hair was all mussed from the wind, and she pushed it back out of his face for him. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror: Her face was flushed from the speed of the drive. Licking her dry lips, she said, "So, guess what? I got my Lodge invitation this morning."

"That's great."

"Yeah. But...I'd feel bad going knowing you won't be there."

Steve hunched his shoulders and looked away. "Actually...I joined. My initiation was last month."

Cassie started.

"But you told me you were going to turn it down. You're allowed to if you want to, right?"

He kept looking away. "Sure, but hardly no one ever does. My dad talked to me about it and I decided I had to join after all. Everyone in my family has always joined. I didn't want breaking the tradition to be the last thing I did here."

Cassie was confused. Steve had always hated the Lodge and said it was a bunch of small-town nonsense. He actually laughed when his invitation came, and Cassie saw him throw it away herself. That was always how he'd been; he always hated to join anything. He'd only went out for the team so that he'd have a jacket to give Cassie, and then quit at the first opportunity.

She guessed he was allowed to change his mind just like anyone else, but why hadn't he told her? She almost asked, but a sudden tightness in her throat stopped the words.

"You're definitely joining, right?" he said.

"Well, I always wanted to."

"That's good," Steve said. "I'll be there, and after it's over we'll go out for a late drive in the new car and celebrate the New Year. If it's a warm night we can take the top down and look at the stars."

"That sounds wonderful," Cassie said, and meant it.

Steve leaned in for a kiss, and she let him. It went on for a long time. She wondered whether it was possible to get a car's windows to steam up while the top was down, and then chastised herself for it. Steve's hand crept up to touch her just under her left breast...

"I'm going to be late," she said, breaking off.

"You can be late just once."

"No, I really can't, Coach is counting on me. Will you be here after? Oh, no, that's right, you're working in your dad's shop. I'll call you."

After a last kiss goodbye she skipped across the parking lot and away.

Practice ran late. Nobody felt rusty, but they still almost dropped Marie twice. (She was always the top of the pyramid these days. "I never wear any panties when I'm on top, you know," she said once. "If you ever look up, you'll see I'm telling the truth." Cassie had blushed like mad, and Marie hadn't stopped laughing about it all night.)

Cassie was sore when she got home and she wanted to take a nice bubble bath and just soak in the heat, but when the time came to take her clothes off she didn't feel quite right. She looked at herself in the mirror for a long time, trying to figure out what was wrong. Rather than undress, she put on an extra sweater and told herself that was better (although she didn't know why). What an odd day I've had, she thought. Although it hadn't been so strange really, had it? It left her only with a lingering discomfort she couldn't place...

She decided to go downstairs and help with dinner.

She discovered Aunt Janine at the kitchen table. They exchanged salutary kisses and Cassie dragged a chair over to sit closer together. Aunt Janine was over at least twice a week, but somehow it never stopped feeling like a surprise.

She had been Daddy's sister, but she and Mom were always close. In fact, Aunt Janine was the reason they'd moved to this town after Daddy died, even if she was something of a black sheep locally. She was a strongly built woman who kept her hair short ("butch" Mom always called it), but she had surprisingly delicate features. Mom said she'd done some modeling work when she was Cassie's age, and Cassie believed it.

Aunt Janine sipped her tea and said, "Hey kiddo. Your mom tells me you've got big news."

It was a second before Cassie remembered what that must mean. "Oh, right. Well, it's not that big of a deal, really. But I got a letter today."

She said it in a hurry and bit her lip, not sure how Aunt Janine would react. The older women just nodded and gave her an encouraging pat on the hand. "So your red envelope finally came, did it? I think that's great," she said.

"You do?" Cassie blurted it out before she even really meant to. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just, you're practically the only adult in town who isn't a member. I thought you said the whole thing is silly."

Aunt Janine raised her eyebrows. "Oh yes, I forgot that my reputation precedes me: She Who Would Not Join." She laughed. "Just because I said it's a silly thing doesn't mean you have to think it is too. Go ahead and join if you want to. You do want to, right?"

Cassie nodded.

"Well there you go. Be your own woman, that's my motto. For me that meant saying no; maybe for you it means saying yes."

Cassie shifted in her chair. Mom had begun singing in the kitchen. It was a low and somber song, but Cassie couldn't quite make out the words. "Do you ever wish you'd joined?"

"It would get me fewer odd looks at the supermarket," Aunt Janine said. "But come to it, I've never much cared about being looked at. Sometimes..."

She paused and looked over the rim of her teacup.

"I do wish I'd been a different person then. To tell the truth, I thought I was too good for this town and its silly ways. I don't know if I'd be better off in the Lodge with everyone else, but I do know I'd have been smarter to be someone who thought less of herself and more about everyone else. Like you. So when I say I'm proud of you, I mean it."

Cassie leaned in and hugged Aunt Janine so hard she almost fell out her chair.

"All right, enough of that," said Aunt Janine. "Been a little worked up about it, have you?"

"A little bit. Worked up about some other things too. Stuff with Steve."

"Remember what I said: No matter what he says, it's your body and your decision."

"Nothing like that. Just, he has big plans for after graduation, and I'm still not sure what I want to do. School, I guess, but I don't know where, and if it'll be anywhere I can keep seeing him. And I think sometimes there are things he doesn't tell me."

"Ah, so that's it. Well, the thing you'll learn is—"

But she was interrupted by the arrival of Mom and dinner, and the matter dropped. It wasn't until that night, as Cassie finished up her evening prayers and tucked herself under the big old quilt on her bed, that she thought to wonder what Aunt Janine had been about to say.

Well, if it was important she'd probably say it again sooner or later. She wasn't the sort of woman to keep her opinion to herself. And people in little towns were always prone to let a thing slip eventually. Cassie rolled over and slept.

***

"You're not really going to wear that old thing to your initiation, are you?" Mom was indicating the silver crucifix necklace around Cassie's neck.

Cassie touched it almost unconsciously. "I always wear it," she said.

"And it looks lovely on you. But it seems a touch...well, old-fashioned for a night like this."

It was eight o'clock on New Year's Eve, and they were already late because Mom had insisted on baking something for the meeting but didn't start early enough. The brownies were only just now coming out of the oven. She tried to cut them before they'd had a chance to cool and ended up making a crumbling mess that she eventually just swept onto a plate.

Now they were finally almost ready, but although Cassie had spent over an hour in the bathroom getting dressed and ready her mother gave her a look now as if she'd just come home with mud all over a Sunday dress. Her mom actually reached out for the silver chain, and Cassie backed away a step.

"Dad gave it to me..." she said.

Mom's face softened a little. "He did, didn't he? Well...all right. The rest of your outfit looks beautiful." She smiled, if a bit half-heartedly. "Let's hurry now, will we?"

Steve had offered to give Cassie a ride, but Cassie preferred to go with Mom. She wore the cranberry-red dress she'd gotten for Christmas, as well as black leggings, Steve's earrings, and of course the old necklace from Dad (tucked underneath her neckline). She held the plate of too-hot brownies on her lap during the long, dark drive out to the Lodge House, which sat on a remote track of land on the edge of the pine forest and just outside the actual town limits.

It was a long, ranch-style building, made of genuine redwood. Cassie had only seen it once before, at a distance. As they trooped up the gravel path, she found it pretty but surprisingly dark looking. It took a second to realize what the problem was: It was the only building in town with no Christmas lights.

She wasn't prepared for the commotion when they came in. Since they were the last to arrive, the main hall was filled to capacity, and hundreds of cheerful voices greeted their entrance. Most of the town broke into spontaneous applause at the sight of Cassie, and she was paralyzed by a blush. The room was all red carpets, wood paneling, and hunting trophies on the walls. The glass eyes of the taxidermy animals seemed to be staring at her too.

Everywhere she looked were familiar faces made unfamiliar by too much makeup and too many expensive clothes and jewels. There was the druggist, Joseph Clampett, and there was Mrs. Balkan, the widow three streets over. About half the girls from the cheerleading squad were here too. Everyone looked somehow like a painting rather than like their real selves. "Hello everyone," she said, stopping every few feet to say "Hello, hello, nice to see you, hello," to someone new.

Dr. Sapirstein, the dentist who took her braces off a year ago, and Mr. Karsley, who had taught her English class in the seventh grade, were grinning at her from the other side of the bar. She gave them a polite wave, but they didn't stop staring. She felt like sinking through the floor and vanishing.