“I’ll see you later,” she said. “And don’t forget, if you need anything, anything at all, please come see me.” She started toward the doorway. His eyes were glued to the movement of her hips and the shape of her small rear end. She stopped in the doorway and leaned against the jamb. “Oh, but I do know about the DeGroot house.”
“Pardon?”
“I thought that’s what you meant when you asked if I was from Gardner Town.”
“No, I…what about it?”
“It’s famous,” she said. “You didn’t know? The real-estate agent never told you?” He shook his head. “Understandable. It probably would scare off most people.”
“You mean being right next to the cemetery? Unfortunately I—”
“No, I mean about the murder. Kathleen DeGroot killed her husband in that house nearly seventy years ago after she found out he was unfaithful. I think it was the town’s first homicide, and a particularly gruesome one. She cut him up afterward and buried him all over the cemetery. Some say in at least ten different grave sites. Now that” —Monica smiled—“is a woman scorned.”
“Pardon?”
“You know, ‘hell hath no fury like…’”
“Oh, yes.”
“But it’s a nice house. I’m sure you will enjoy living there,” she added. “See you later.” She twisted so he would have one full look at her curvaceous body before she was gone.
For a long moment Lee could only sit and stare after her. Then he wiped his face with his palms and let out his breath. He was shaking all over. Was it because of the enticing Miss London or because of that gruesome tale? Or was it a combination of both?
He was grateful for the piercing sound of the bell announcing the end of one period and the beginning of another. That was quickly followed by the thunderous roar of student voices as they shot out of their rooms and stampeded down the corridors, some to their next class, some to the first lunch period. The commotion shook him out of his state of anxiety and reminded him it was time to give Jessie a call. He started to panic when she didn’t pick up the receiver. Then he remembered this was the morning Tracy Baker was to come by and take her around. He would have to wait until later in the day.
He began to put everything away when he noticed that Monica London had scribbled her home telephone number on the teacher orientation folder she had left with him. The numerals seemed to rise off the page. He felt a titillation. It was almost as if she had left him the key to her front door.
Jessie assured Tracy Baker she would be all right once Tracy guided her to the front walk.
“Are you sure?” Tracy asked, still holding her hand.
“Absolutely, Tracy. I’ve already committed the front of this house to perfect memory. Lee says I have a photographic memory with or without my eyesight. He credits it to my overworked imagination.” She smiled and then, as if to prove her words, began to describe the front. “There are twelve eighteen-inch flagstones from the edge of the street here to the bottom of the porch stairway. The stairway has three steps. To the left are two rocking chairs on the porch. The full-width porch has a round railing running between the massive rectangular masonry supports of the porch roof.”
“Yes,” Tracy said, laughing. “You know more detail about it than I, who can see, do.”
Jessie smiled and released Tracy’s hand from hers.
“Thank you for a wonderful day and a great lunch. That homemade apple pie was the best I think I’ve had. I’ll have to tell Lee about that diner.”
“It’s the only one in town,” Tracy said. “Not hard to find. I really enjoyed our time together, Jessie. Like I told you, it’s not easy for me to find someone with whom I can hold an intelligent conversation these days, and I don’t mean to sound snobby or conceited.”
“I understand.”
“Not yet,” Tracy said. “But you will in time. I think you can count on your fingers how many people buy the Sunday Times. Most get all their news and culture from the idiot box. What surprises me,” she added, obviously not anxious to end their time together, “is how Bob has accepted all this. Up until last year he was still talking about getting a job closer to the city,” she whispered, as though it were one of their personal secrets.
“What changed his mind?”
“I don’t know. Oh, I suppose it had something to do with his heart problem. His life changed radically after that.”
“What actually happened?”
“He kept ignoring the symptoms and refusing to see Dr. Beezly. Finally one day he collapsed and we had to rush him to the hospital. Dr. Beezly said he had been a walking time bomb for weeks. Just like Bob to have been stubborn and cause himself greater problems.
“After that, security, comfort, and all that went along with it was more important to him than anything else. He and Dr. Beezly have grown especially close. They even have some business dealings together. My husband,” she said, not hiding her own surprise, “has become something of an entrepreneur. Far cry from an actor, huh?”
“You don’t sound very happy about it, Tracy,” Jessie said.
“Well, I don’t love him any less, but you already sensed from your first encounter with him how cynical he can be. Funny…” she said, her voice drifting off.
“What is?” Jessie asked when the silence lingered.
“How we lose our dreams and ambitions. They’re like balloons, firm and full when we’re young and optimistic. As time goes by, they lose air, soften; and then one day we wake up and discover some strong wind has taken them off. You’re left with a limp string in your fingers and the vague memory of what it was supposed to be.”
“I’m sorry,” Jessie said softly, reaching for Tracy’s hand again.
“Oh no, please. I didn’t mean to put a damper on our day. Really, I exaggerate anyway. You mustn’t take me seriously. If I ever sound off this self-pity again, shut me right up. Bob gets furious at me when I do that. We do have a lot more than I ever dreamed we would.
“Besides, I’m feeling very stupid moaning and bitching to someone like you. With all you’ve been through, you should be the one moaning and bitching.”
Jessie smiled.
“You should hear me when I get started.” She patted Tracy’s hand. “I’m looking forward to your dinner.”
“I’ll phone you tomorrow,” Tracy said. “Just in case you need any errands run or want to run some yourself.”
“Thank you. Bye,” Jessie said, and started down the walk, moving with the self-assurance of someone who had been living there for years and years. Tracy shook her head in admiration and then got back into her car and drove off as soon as she saw Jessie step onto the porch and approach the front door.
But Jessie didn’t open it and enter the hallway. She paused because she heard the sound of digging far off to her left. It was coming from the cemetery. Her first thought, of course, was that someone had died and a grave was being prepared. She stood there for a few moments, mesmerized by the rhythmic thud of a shovel stabbing at the earth.
As she listened a horrifying vision began to take form. It was like having a waking nightmare. In it the digging was being carried out by a skeleton who was trying to return to its coffin. Shreds of rotted clothing hung from its shoulders and arms. As it worked, shavings of bone began to peel away from its hands. It fell like dandruff all about it and made it work with more fury. Finally it struck the lid of the coffin and fell to its knees to brush away the remaining soil. It worked its bony fingers under the lid and pulled up with all its might, but the coffin wouldn’t open.
The skeleton threw back its skull and opened its jaw. A death rattle emerged. Seconds later the spine snapped, followed by all of its appendages. It fell in a pile of bones on the top of the coffin, and the dirt that had been removed began to fall in over it again.
The grotesque imagery sent her scurrying through her purse for her key. She entered the house quickly and inserted the key into her front door. Not until she had closed and locked it behind her did she feel any sense o
f relief and security. Then, with her heart still pounding, she made her way to the bedroom to lie down. Lee’s phone call from school woke her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. I fell asleep for a little while.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No, that’s all right,” she said. “I’m sure I should be getting up and preparing supper. How are things going today?”
“Better,” he said. “How was your day with Tracy?”
“Very nice. We had a wonderful lunch in the village diner.”
“I’m glad. I guess you heard them come to take that truck away this morning, huh?”
“Yes, there was the sound of a tow truck. Have you heard anything more about it?”
“No. I see the Benson kid is present, though. Okay, I’ll be home on time tonight,” he promised.
“Have a good practice,” she said, and cradled the phone. She got out of bed and went to the bathroom to dab her face with some cold water. Afterward, feeling somewhat revived, she headed for the kitchen. But as soon as she entered it she heard something that took her to the side window, the one facing the cemetery. She worked it open to hear better and listened.
There was more digging going on, but now it was much closer to the house. How many people could have passed away? she wondered. It was creepy living right beside a cemetery like this, she thought. Perhaps it would be better to talk to Lee about finding them someplace else. She closed the window and went to prepare the dinner.
After she set the table, she went into the living room to listen to the news, but before she turned it on, she heard the patter of footsteps on the patio and then the porch. From the pace of the gait, she knew it was old man Carter. Although they had hardly spoken up to now, she thought it would be nice to have a friendly relationship with their upstairs neighbor. She went to the apartment front door and opened it just as he entered the house.
“Mr. Carter?” she said from her doorway. She could smell the scent of freshly dug earth.
“Hello,” he said. He closed the heavy, oak door behind him.
“You had a lot of work to do today?” she asked, smiling. Even though he was only a few feet from her, she couldn’t get a sense of him the way she usually could get a sense of someone. It was as if she were speaking to a voice with no body. It unnerved her and she embraced herself quickly, for the pause between her question and his reply seemed endless.
“No more than usual,” he finally said. “Some prunin’, some trimmin’.”
“Oh? I thought…I mean, I just assumed you were preparing some new graves today. All that digging,” she added.
“Diggin’? I didn’t do any diggin’ today, Mrs. Overstreet. Nobody new died. Yet,” he added.
“But I could have sworn…”
“Got enough hot water?” he asked.
“What? Oh, yes.”
“Sometimes that damn hot-water heater don’t kick in and I gotta go down to the basement and hit the restart button. No sense callin’ Charley DeGroot if you don’t have hot water. Just call me. He’ll only call me anyway,” Carter added. She heard him take the first step.
“Oh, thank you. I bet you were wondering what all that commotion was late last night,” she said quickly. He stopped on the stairway.
“Commotion?”
“Someone got drunk and fell out of his truck right out in front here. We had to phone the police.”
“Never heard a thing,” he said. “I sleep better than the dead,” he added, and laughed. “I know. I hear them tossin’ and turnin’ all night out there.”
He continued up the stairway. She started to close the door when she caught a whiff of that horrendous stench again. It seemed to move past her, following the old man. In seconds it was gone and all that remained was the lingering scent of freshly dug earth.
Why did he say he wasn’t doing any digging? She distinctly heard it. If he wasn’t digging in the cemetery, who was?
After she closed the door, she stood there listening to the sound of the old man’s footsteps now above her. Yes, she said to herself, there it was again. His footsteps and then that shuffling. There’s definitely someone up there with him, someone who could use a bath.
She went into the living room and tried listening to the news, but her mind kept drifting. She replayed some of her conversation with Tracy Baker. She had heard something in Tracy’s voice, something more than disappointment or depression, something that had suggested fear. The Bakers had been married nearly fifteen years and they had no children. Jessie had been wanting to ask her about that, but since Tracy hadn’t brought up the subject, she thought she would wait until she became better acquainted. Her experience was that people volunteered information about their personal lives freely these days. They didn’t need much encouragement. It was the age of exposure and confession.
Jessie was so lost in her thoughts about Tracy and about the things she had heard in the afternoon that she didn’t hear Lee enter.
“Well, this is a first,” he declared. “You, not hearing me?”
“Oh Lee.” She rose and went to him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when he felt how she was trembling. “Something happen since I spoke with you on the phone?”
She told him about the sound of the digging and her conversation with old man Carter.
Lee laughed.
“Jess, I’m sure the old guy is starting to lose it. He probably doesn’t remember what he does from one moment to the next. Besides, what would be his reason for lying to you about something like that?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“So? Don’t worry about it. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”
“You had a good practice?”
“It was better than yesterday. There was less fouling and other shenanigans and no one complained about my fitness program. Oh, and the Benson kid…”
“Yes?”
“He played very well. If his father’s behavior is bothering him, he’s sure good at hiding it. He behaved as if nothing had happened and his father wasn’t in jail. He couldn’t have been in better spirits.”
“Maybe he just doesn’t care about him, Lee.”
“Yeah, I suppose that happens. So, tell me about your day with Tracy Baker. I’m sure you have plenty of gossip to relate.”
“Now, Lee, you know we don’t gossip. We discuss,” she said, and he laughed. “You don’t have to shower and change for dinner?”
“Naw, I did it at school.”
“I guess you’re getting into it then,” she said happily.
“I guess so. It just takes time. Like anything else, it just takes time,” he repeated, and followed her to the kitchen to help get their dinner.
It wasn’t until after they had sat down at the table and had begun eating that he noticed the oddest thing.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said suddenly, interrupting her description of the Gardner Town diner.
“What?”
“I just noticed the craziest thing.”
“What?”
“After I showered and got dressed in my office…”
“Yes?”
“I put on the wrong sneakers.”
“What? How could you do that?”
“They were just there in my locker, one of Kurt Andersen’s extra pairs. I guess I just grabbed them without thinking and put them on.
“But the oddest thing is they fit…perfectly, and I had gotten the impression from his description and from some of the pictures of him in the office that he was a much bigger man than I am.”
“He could be taller and heavier and still have the same foot size as you, Lee.”
“Yeah, I suppose so. I tell you, honey, I was reading through some of his old correspondence today, and at times I must have been just as angry and frustrated as he had been.
“You pick up where a guy left off,” he continued, “almost as if he just passed you the ball, and you continue down the court, even wearing his shoes.”
“Just as long as you don’t end up the same way, Lee.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Right.”
The long moment of silence between them was unnerving. He was happy when she began to talk about her day with Tracy Baker again. But he couldn’t stop wondering what the hell he was thinking of when he put on someone else’s sneakers.
5
“It’s a big house,” Lee began with enough surprise in his voice to impress Jessie. “And it looks like they have a nice piece of property, too. I’d say a couple of acres.”
“How big is the house? Bigger than the DeGroot house?”
“Oh yeah. It’s very pretty. Looks recently painted. Wedgwood blue,” he continued as he slowed down to turn into the Bakers’ driveway. He had made it his business to get better and better at describing things, feeling now that his eyes had to see for the two of them. That, plus his own lingering guilt, made it important that he do anything and everything he could to compensate for Jessie’s handicap. “It’s a two-story, wood-frame building with a steeply pitched roof. There’s a prominent central cross gable on the roof with a very decorative truss at the apex. There are gabled dormers on either side. The windows have a sort of Gothic shape to them. The house has a full-length porch, like the DeGroot house, with flattened arches between the porch supports.”
“It sounds very pretty, Lee.”
“Um. Impressive for a public-school teacher. They must have had some money.”
He pulled alongside the immaculate, silver Mercedes-Benz sedan and saw the MD license plates.
“Dr. Beezly is already here,” he said. “I don’t see any other cars.”
“Are we early?”
“Just on time,” he said, and shut off the engine.
“Schoolteachers have trouble being fashionably late,” she kidded. “You’re too used to bells and schedules.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“What’s the front like?” she asked.
“There’s a concrete walkway with bordering hedges. Big lawn. Some expensive landscaping. Very, very nice,” he added. Then he got out and went around to help Jessie out. She threaded her arm through his.
After Life Page 6
