The Grave Digger

by Rebecca Bischoff

  FIFTEEN

  “THIS ISN’T THE way to the cemetery,” Cap said, as the wagon jostled down the dark street. The freezing air stung the boy’s face, and he tugged the collar of his coat higher.

  “We need scrap iron from the foundry,” Father replied.

  “Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  At the foundry, the two loaded the wagon with bits of metal. Then, they scavenged heavy rocks from a nearby field.

  “What’s all this for?” Cap asked. His back hurt and his hands ached from the cold, while at the same time he was sweating beneath the layers of his thick winter clothing.

  “This job is different,” Father explained, hopping up into the driver’s seat and taking the reins. “You’ll see.”

  The two drove a few miles outside of town. Eventually, they approached a grand yellow house covered with gables and towers, surrounded by tall poplars. Father made certain to keep his distance from the crowd of carriages and wagons that lined the drive at the front of the home. They circled around the building and parked in the back near a small wooden door.

  “Now, we wait,” Father whispered. Soon, an undertaker’s carriage pulled up beside them. A pudgy man climbed down from the driver’s seat. He nodded at Father and ignored Cap.

  “Who’s that?” the boy whispered.

  “The sexton.”

  Cap sat up straighter. “Oh,” he said, squinting in the man’s direction. Were there any rings on his fingers? Ruby rings, to be exact.

  The man drew closer. His face was pitted with pockmarks and his pale skin had a greasy look, even in the moonlight. Father held out his hand to shake, and the man removed his gloves. His fingers were bare of rings.

  The boy slumped down in the wagon seat, blowing out his breath in a white cloud while the sexton and Father talked. Most men weren’t cotton-headed enough to wear stolen jewelry, but Cap had hoped that, by some miracle, the sexton was just that dumb. Anyway, something else rankled worse. It sure didn’t look to Cap like he’d get the chance to try reviving a body tonight.

  Then, something the sexton said caught his attention, and he swore his ears stood up tall just like a pup’s.

  “The arrangement was made weeks ago,” the sexton was saying.

  Cap stretched his mouth wide in a fake yawn while he leaned closer to catch the men’s whispers.

  “Lum will take the body once the mourners leave, and that’s where you two come in. You must help me fill the coffin with stones so nothing will seem amiss at the cemetery.”

  And, so they did. After the sounds of murmured voices and rustling carriages died away, letting them know the mourners had left the wake, they got to work. Cap and Father helped the sexton fill the empty coffin so it would feel as heavy as before. Lum never once graced them with his presence. The jangling jolt of a wagon driving away, as well as the tune the sexton whistled loudly in the night air, let them know he was already off to deliver his goods.

  And Cap was back in bed within an hour, though he didn’t fall asleep for a long while as new questions rolled around inside his skull.

  Once more, the resurrectionists had “resurrected” another body that didn’t come from Delphia’s neighborhood.

  I guess everybody in town ought to be afraid of us, Cap thought. He frowned. The thought wasn’t pleasant. He’d never been the kind to taunt or bully other boys, and he sure didn’t relish the thought of making anybody scared of him.

  Unable to sleep, he leaned on one elbow and fingered a loose thread on his coverlet. Everything was such a puzzle. What sort of person would make an “arrangement” to allow some shady fellow to cart his body away, knowing doctors were itching to carve him up?

  “And just what were you doing at the orphanage, Lum?” Cap whispered to himself. Plopping onto his back, he pondered a while until a plan came to mind. It would be tricky, and he’d have to make certain his friend was mighty careful, but Jessamyn just might be able to help him solve at least one riddle.

  THE NEXT MORNING, Cap gulped his cornmeal mush with molasses and hurried to school. He wanted time to speak to Jessamyn before class. He tried to ignore the prick of guilt that poked at his heart. He was supposed to be helping her, but here he was, conniving to get her to help him.

  But Lum just might have taken the ring. He reminded himself of the fact as he hurried along his street, his breath coming out in white puffs. Once at school, Cap waited in the cloakroom until Jessamyn arrived, greeting him with a broad smile.

  “I saw the sexton,” he whispered as the girl hung up her faded winter coat and placed her dinner pail on the shelf. “Last night.”

  “You did?” Jessamyn breathed. “Did you talk to him?”

  “No,” Cap said, shuffling his feet. “But I saw his hands. He wasn’t wearing any rings.”

  The girl’s smile faded for a moment, but then she brightened immediately. “He’d never wear my ring,” she said. “He wouldn’t want anyone to know he’d taken it.”

  “I agree,” Cap said. “But right now, I sure can’t think of what else to do, except…” He paused for a moment and ran a hand through his hair.

  “What?” Jessamyn asked.

  Cap bit his lip. “I’m not real certain, but there’s someone else I know who might have taken it.”

  “Who?” Jessamyn said, her eyes round.

  “He’s a fellow who works with my father,” Cap said. He gathered his slate and books and moved into the classroom, as more students were crowding into the cloakroom, smirking at him and the girl. “We heard he’s involved in some kind of business,” he lowered his voice and leaned closer, “selling things he stole.”

  Jessamyn’s jaw dropped.

  “How do you plan to find out if he took my ring?” she asked him, settling her things inside her desk.

  “I was thinking you could do it,” Cap answered. He held up a hand as Jessamyn’s brow crinkled in confusion. “Hear me out. I saw him over at St. Joseph’s.” Swiftly, he described Lum, and Jessamyn’s eyes widened in recognition.

  “You mean Mr. Jones?” she said. “He does some work for the Sisters now and then, patching the roof and such. Sister Mariah will want to know he isn’t honest. I should tell her—”

  “No,” Cap blurted. “I mean, if we want to catch him, it needs to be done on the sly. If you say anything to Sister Mariah, she might just up and dismiss him. Then, we’ll never know if he took your ring or not.”

  The girl chewed on a fingernail, deep in thought. “You’re right,” she said after a moment. “Wait—I know!” she added, with a shy smile curving her lips. “I’ll keep a close eye on him. The cook feeds him whenever he comes, and sometimes Sister Mariah sits and talks with him. I think she’s trying to save his soul. She reads Bible verses. Maybe if I eavesdrop, I’ll learn something.”

  “You just might,” Cap said, “But listen, Jessamyn—he’s a real rough sort of fellow. You best be careful around him. Swear to it you’ll only listen, and keep your distance.”

  Jessamyn nodded solemnly, but her eyes gleamed with excitement. “I promise.”

  “So, you stick to Lum, I mean Mr. Jones, and I’ll stick to the sexton,” Cap whispered, taking out his history book as Master Rankin walked to the blackboard, ready to start the school day. “Between the two of us, maybe we’ll find your ring.”

  And maybe I’ll find out what those “arrangements” are, he thought, opening his book. I might even find a way to get Father to stop working with Lum. I don’t care how much money we make. I sure don’t like this. Not one bit.

  SIXTEEN

  THE NEXT DAY at school, Jessamyn grabbed Cap’s sleeve when he arrived at school.

  “Mr. Jones is coming this afternoon to fix a hole in the floor,” she told him with shining eyes. “If you come with me after school, we could spy on him.”

  Cap was only too happy to agree.

  He hurried home for his dinner at the noon break. Voices sounded from the parlor, so he crept
into the warm kitchen.

  Blast! he thought. Another literary meeting! At least Mamma couldn’t ask him to recite, for he had school. It was time for his dinner, anyway. As if on cue, his stomach growled. The steaming kitchen smelled sweetly of cloves and Cap’s mouth watered. But to his surprise, no plate waited for him upon the checked tablecloth.

  “There you are,” Mrs. Hardy said, sweeping into the room.

  “Mrs. Hardy, where’s my—”

  “She’s here again,” the housekeeper said at the same moment, busily slicing her warm raisin cake, “and she’s brought that girl of hers with her. As though I didn’t have enough work to do, I must wait on those two as well.”

  “Oh,” Cap said, eyeing the rest of the cake on the sideboard. “Well, I’ll just take some cake and go back to school.” But Mrs. Hardy slapped his hand away as he reached for the dessert.

  “Your mother wants you in the parlor,” she said shortly. “Go.”

  With dragging steps, Cap went, but the room wasn’t filled with ladies holding teacups, chatting and laughing over books.

  “Why, hello,” Delphia said, beaming at him from her perch on their threadbare sofa. Jardine nodded at him from nearby, holding a volume of poetry. And Dr. Ivins was chatting with Mamma, seated in her favorite easy chair by the window. Mrs. Hardy swept into the room, grimly carrying the tray laden with cups of tea and slices of cake.

  “Here,” she said shortly, setting the tray none too gently upon a side table. With that, she turned and swept from the room.

  Mamma blinked but recovered quickly, smiling at her guests and making to rise from her chair so she could serve them herself.

  “I’ll do that, Mamma,” Cap quickly said. He brought everyone a cup of tea and handed round the cake. Mamma beamed and Dr. Ivins smiled his approval.

  “Good lad,” he said. “Make yourself useful to your mother. She needs to avoid straining herself.”

  Cap sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa near Delphia and picked up his own slice of cake with his fingers, taking a large bite. When Mamma narrowed her eyes, he dropped the cake and picked up his fork, ducking his head.

  Delphia giggled. “I think you have more books than the library, Mrs. Cooper,” she said. “I surely admire that.”

  “Thank you,” Mamma said, while a faint flush brightened her cheeks. “Now, how are your studies?” she asked Delphia, taking a tiny sip of her tea. “Your mother tells me you plan to apply to a medical college soon.” Her brow crinkled slightly as Delphia nodded. “I didn’t know there were any medical schools in this country that accepted ladies,” Mamma added.

  “There is one, now,” Delphia said eagerly. “The college in Philadelphia, the city I was named after, is allowing women to study medicine. I aim to be one of their first students. I surely hope they’ll consider me,” she said, while her brown skin flushed. “It’s all I want in this world.” She glanced down and picked up her fork.

  Dr. Ivins cleared his throat. “That reminds me,” he said, placing his cake plate back on the tray. “My assistant spoke to me a while ago, asking for my help in this matter.”

  Jardine drew in a breath, while Delphia paused with a bite of cake halfway to her mouth. Dr. Ivins drew an envelope from his waistcoat pocket. “I believe that this letter of introduction and recommendation might be of use to you, Delphia. I am honored to recommend you to a professor who teaches at that medical college. He is a former colleague of mine from my days in New York.”

  The man handed the envelope to Delphia, who was speechless for once. Her face glowed like a Christmas tree lit with hundreds of candles.

  “Oh, Dr. Ivins,” Jardine said. Her eyes filled with tears. “How can we ever…” Her voice caught and she pulled out a handkerchief.

  Dr. Ivins cleared his throat again, but he was clearly pleased. “Think nothing of it. Jardine, you’ve been the most able assistant I’ve ever had, and your daughter belongs in medicine. She’s a star pupil, with a mind like a steel trap. She put the students who attended my last anatomy lecture to shame, every one of them.”

  Anatomy lecture. Cap chewed slowly while ruminating on the strangeness of the situation. Here he was, sitting all civilized and polite, eating cake with ladies who didn’t know he had helped dig up their neighbors to sell to medical schools. Of course, Delphia had only mentioned seeing drawings at the latest lecture, but once she got to medical school, there would be corpses all ready to cut up.

  She’s got to know that at least some of them were snatched by people like Lum, Cap told himself, quietly glancing at the girl next to him. Delphia had put her cake aside and was reading her letter with shining eyes. The sight made Cap’s stomach twist. Whether or not Delphia knew where all the cadavers came from, her joyful face filled his heart with guilt that weighed heavy as iron.

  What would they all think of me? he asked himself. What would Mamma think? His cake turned to ash in his mouth. Gulping his tea, Cap rose to his feet. As he did so, he knocked against the satchel Delphia had set down, and a folded paper fell from the open flap. The girl’s eyes widened.

  “I almost forgot,” she said. She snatched the paper from the floor and handed it to Dr. Ivins. As he read, she told the others about seeking signatures from the townspeople to ask for a watch at the cemetery. “I hate to impose again, sir, after all you’ve done for me, but would you consider signing my letter?”

  Quickly gathering plates and cups, Cap piled them onto the tray and hurried to the door. He could hardly stand being in that room any longer. The fire had grown uncomfortably hot, and his thoughts had grown so prickly and sharp it hurt to think.

  Mamma nodded at him, and Cap turned to go. Then, the doctor’s words halted his steps.

  “I’m certain you are aware, Delphia, that medical schools need subjects for dissection. Given our town’s recent events, I’m sure it’s been on your mind. Of course, there are…different methods for obtaining them. Methods that are less distasteful, if you will.”

  “Exactly,” Delphia said. “Schools must get their subjects legally. They should never buy them from those awful, ghoulish robbers. I aim to protect my friends and family. Please sign this, sir.”

  “I am happy to do so,” the doctor said gravely.

  Hunching his shoulders, Cap returned to the kitchen, snatched his coat, and fled.

  SEVENTEEN

  UNABLE TO CONCENTRATE, Cap spent a miserable afternoon at school, watching several girls pass notes to one another while a boy named Jasper picked his nose repeatedly. The large clock on the teacher’s desk seemed frozen. Cap slumped in relief when Master Rankin signaled the end of class.

  The moment the teacher let them go, Jessamyn snatched her things from her desk and hurried to the cloakroom. She didn’t spare him a glance in passing, but Cap figured she didn’t want to attract too much attention from the others. After all, many of their classmates had taken to snickering and whispering each time the two spoke.

  He stopped short once he reached the cloakroom. Jessamyn was nowhere in sight.

  Grabbing his things, Cap trotted outside. He could just spot Jessamyn at the end of the block, walking fast with her head down. Struggling into his coat, Cap felt something inside one of the pockets. He pulled out a tiny slip of paper. Unfolding it, he read:

  I have to go home. Please don’t come.

  Jessamyn

  Jamming the paper back into his pocket, Cap watched as the girl disappeared from his sight.

  “Aw, shucks, did your girl leave you?” Eli taunted, coming up from behind. He elbowed Cap as he passed. “Guess she doesn’t like you after all. ’Course, we all know why you like her,” he said, running off to join his friends.

  The other boys laughed as Cap turned to face them, scowling. His hands clenched into fists, and he had half a mind to finally make good his threat to punch Eli’s mean-talking mouth. But picturing Mamma’s scandalized face and Father’s punishment, he reconsidered.

  Gulping air, he turned his
back and started running after Jessamyn. She owed him an explanation, and he was determined to have one.

  He ran several blocks and finally stopped for a breather near the mayor’s office when someone bumped him so hard, he fell over onto the frozen earth.

  “Watch your step!” Cap said, dusting off his trousers.

  “You watch your tongue, boy, or I’ll cut it right out of your mouth,” a man growled. Cap looked up into the bleary eyes of Dr. Rusch, the very man who had declared Jessamyn dead. The doctor turned away and walked on without a backward glance.

  Dr. Rusch or Jessamyn? Cap asked himself, bouncing on his feet. He surely wanted to speak to Jessamyn and discover why she’d ditched him, but curiosity over the strange events that had led to the girl’s miraculous revival won out.

  I’ll talk to her later, he vowed to himself, trotting after the doctor. This doctor has something to do with Lum’s business, I’m sure of it.

  They walked for several blocks, the doctor striding along at a fast pace and the boy creeping behind with a hammering heart. When the doctor left the downtown area and marched directly to the Round House, Cap stopped short and barely avoided exclaiming out loud.

  A new sign hung above the front door: “Circleville College of Medicine.” Workers were busy painting window and door frames, while others carried lumber and tools.

  That’s why the bodies we dig up don’t go to Columbus—they stay right here! Cap thought with a sickening jolt to his stomach. He shook his head in disbelief. As soon as people knew about the place, wouldn’t they be banging on the doors, demanding to see if the missing bodies were there?

  Dr. Rusch entered the red brick building with a jaunty step. Cap hung back until the man was out of sight. He didn’t dare follow through the main doors, but cut around to the back. Soon, he came upon a tiny window at ground level. He tried the latch, which opened quite obligingly with a soft squeak.

  Carefully, he peered inside. All was dark and silent. Cap crouched down and managed to work his legs through the opening. He took a deep breath, steeled himself for the plunge, and then froze as a hand seized his leg.