Solomon's Grave

by Daniel G. Keohane

  Now as she waited for Nathan, five years later, Elizabeth thought about that night again. She was a different person from the one crouched by the tub. At least she hoped so. Over time she had dated other men, including Nathan’s best friend Josh—though she often worried about revealing that bit of news to him. Josh never had. He’d said as much when he called to tell her Nate was coming home. The relationship had lasted almost a year, then fizzled out. He and Nate were too close, his presence always lingering between them. They’d started as friends, and ended their romance the same way, though with more distance between them afterwards.

  Headlights on the street outside, pulling to a stop in front of her house. Her heart raced with a mixture of fear and apprehension. The more she thought about this date, the more she wondered if this was taking a step backwards. She’d built a life for herself here, and she was happy. Alone, but happy.

  Nate got out of the car and walked the path toward the door. Maybe, she thought, adjusting the scrunchy in her hair and opening the door, it wasn’t so much falling back as stepping forward. They’d taken time to become their own people. Maybe they were ready to try again.

  Yeah, right, she thought. The Atheist and the Pastor. Would make an interesting movie-of-the-week. Perhaps not all her cynicism had been washed down the drain that night. The idea worried her.

  “Hi,” Nate said after walking onto the porch.

  In her mind, she dropped the tub’s lever again and sent that dark inner voice swirling away. She moved forward and held him in a long, quiet hug. She was showing too much weakness, but at the moment she didn’t care. She needed to be held, by Nate and no one else.

  “I missed you,” she said.

  He must have understood she needed this closeness since he did not move away. Instead he whispered, “I missed you, too.”

  Elizabeth stopped thinking then; simply breathed in the comfort and love which she thought was lost forever. Maybe it still was. For the moment, though, she was happy.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Sole Proprietor in Worcester had tripled in size since he’d last been here. In a way it was a relief to Nathan that this visit to what had always been their mutually favorite restaurant, didn’t feel like “the good old days.” It felt new; she felt new. Over the years of their separation, he’d come to realize how dependent he and Elizabeth had become on each other. Sitting with her now in this landmark of their past, Nathan understood the time apart had, in a way, benefited them both.

  The rapport between them still felt strong, but they each were more confident in themselves as individuals. They talked of events in town over the years, who was still around and who wasn’t. Conversation never dragged, never became uncomfortable. If any sore spots were hit, Elizabeth was quick to change the subject with a quick, “Let’s change the subject” preface. That was one attribute which had not changed about her. Elizabeth O’Brien was never one to mince words.

  They were seated at adjacent corners of the small table, much like they’d been in the break room. It was how they’d always sat together at restaurants. Tonight they fell naturally into their respective positions, no uncomfortable hesitation. The food was delicious. It always was. Seafood always tasted fresher in a New England restaurant. Everything in Florida tasted shipped in. A fallacy, he knew. The state was surrounded by ocean, after all. When he mentioned this to Elizabeth, she laughed, and told him food always tastes better at home.

  She fell quiet then. Nathan assumed there would always be lingering pain, a sense of loss somewhere in her. It was a place he might be able to fill. He chided himself for being too optimistic. Revel in her company, he thought, and make no assumptions.

  He said, “I saw Josh at the store last night. You two still keep in touch?”

  She shrugged, “Not as much as we used to.” She took a bite of her scallops. Nathan could feel some other shoe hanging above her answer, so he waited. Finally, Elizabeth looked up and, blushing, said, “We dated for a little while. Did you know that?”

  She never broke eye contact, wanting to catch his reaction. A weight dropped into his stomach. He started to speak, stopped, broke a piece of fish off with his fork but did not lift it to his mouth. “Um, no,” he said finally. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  Why didn’t he know? How could he not have? Josh never said anything about it. Never!

  “Well, it wasn’t like he was sneaking around behind your back or anything. You and I weren’t...” she caught herself and stopped. This was a dangerous moment. Elizabeth put down her own fork and laid a hand on Nathan’s. His arm twitched, but when he realized that he had almost pulled his hand away, he turned it palm-up and closed his fingers around hers.

  “Sorry,” he said, not sure what he was sorry for. Unfamiliar pangs of jealousy. It was a strange feeling. More than once over the years he wondered if she was dating, serious about someone else, and this same stomach-turning, dry-throat panic would hit him. Not as strong as this moment, having to face the reality so directly.

  She said, “I’m sure he kept it quiet because we were never sure if anything would come of it.”

  Nathan looked at her, willed himself to be rational. Still, the idea of Josh and Elizabeth being together felt like... betrayal. “I’m being selfish,” he said, “feeling like I am right now.”

  Elizabeth smiled that wide, real smile which always—this moment included—made him feel special for reasons he could never fathom. She squeezed his hand and whispered, “Yes, Nate. You are being selfish.” With her free hand she held her thumb and forefinger close together. “Just a little. If you were in his shoes, you’d have stayed quiet, too.”

  He wasn’t sure about that. But not being in that position, he accepted it. “What happened? I mean, why did you stop?” He had to force the words out.

  Elizabeth speared another scallop with her fork and chewed, her eyes looking sideways. Finally, she said, “We both....” She never finished the sentence, instead speared another scallop and popped it in her mouth.

  “Both what?” he said.

  She signed, finished chewing, then waved the fork between two fingers for emphasis. “Both... decided it wouldn’t work out. Let’s leave it at that.” He didn’t think that was what she was going to say, but let the answer be. Elizabeth released his hand and punched him hard in the arm.

  “Ow!”

  “Oh, stop complaining and eat your veggies. They’re good for you.”

  And that was the end of that. The remainder of their meal continued amiably. Elizabeth asked about his parents. Finding himself in a somewhat more somber mood, he talked about his father’s situation, the uncertainty around the men’s club. He struggled to keep the growing emotion from his voice.

  Even with her many whimsical adventures during their childhood, Elizabeth had always been the practical one. She suggested he simply pay the Hillcrest Men’s Club an uninvited visit. Granted, his father would be upset, but he sounded upset already based on their phone conversation. Nathan nodded his agreement, thinking he could use his new role as pastor as a viable excuse for the visit. Learn more about local town groups and such. No one would buy the line, but it gave some rationale other than merely checking out his father’s new friends. He told her it would have to wait until the following week. Hayden’s last service as pastor was tomorrow, and then Monday he was leaving. Too much to do at the church until then.

  Perhaps because the conversation finally led to the subject, they talked about his new job, moving closer now to more fragile ground. She was genuinely interested, though, especially when he mentioned the fainting spell. He had to tell her. She’d hear about it eventually. Nathan used the opportunity to explain about the strange dreams he’d had, though did his best to downplay their impact on him. Sitting with her in this place, finishing their meals and debating on whether dessert was really such a good idea, these issues didn’t seem worth dampening the mood any more than had already been done. He was content for the moment, and wanted to remain so.
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br />   Apparently, so did Elizabeth, since she accepted his noncommittal shrug when she pressed the issue, and moved onto another topic.

  The evening eventually wound down and he drove her home. During the fifteen minute trip from the city they talked some more, but they were approaching the inevitable goodnight portion of the date. Both wondered about the next step.

  When they stood on her front porch, Elizabeth didn’t offer to have him come in. He wouldn’t have accepted anyway. This particular date felt over. God willing, they had plenty of time.

  Nathan took her hands in his and said, “Thanks. I had a good time.”

  “Me, too.”

  There followed a brief moment which, looking back on it later in the quiet of the living room above the kitchen, Nathan could not successfully recall. A moment between her reply and the ensuing kiss. He must have crossed the two feet separating them, but he did not remember doing so. He was simply there, kissing her, realizing how new it felt, how comfortable. It ended with a prolonged embrace. Try as he might not to say anything to break the moment, he eventually pulled back and said, “I’ve always loved you, you know.”

  He winced when he said it, but once spoken, he could never take the words back. He didn’t regret what was said specifically, as much as feel it was the wrong time to say it.

  Elizabeth still knew him better than anyone, even after all this time. She had proved that more than once since their reunion at the nursing home. At his proclamation, she smiled and laid a hand on his face.

  “I know,” she said, then gave him a pat on one cheek. “Good night, Sweet Prince.”

  She opened the front door and stepped inside.

  “Good night,” he said, and turned to leave.

  Her voice stopped him mid-stride. “Are we still going to go on dates like this when you become the official Grand Poobah over there?” She nodded her head in the general direction of the church.

  Her implication that his feelings for her might, in some way, be reciprocated lifted a hundred pounds off his shoulders. He almost laughed with the joy of it. “Absolutely. Just remember I’ll be pretty much on call twenty-four-seven starting Monday.” He shrugged embarrassedly.

  Before she closed the door she said, “Such a popular boy, my man is.”

  Nathan’s walk to the car, and the drive home, were lost in a turmoil raging in his head.

  My man, she had called him.

  She wanted to see him again.

  Try as he might to suppress his excitement—he was a grown-up now and shouldn’t be acting so love-struck—he couldn’t stop grinning, picturing himself as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer in that Christmas animated special, jumping through the air yelling, She said I’m cute!

  The kiss was unplanned. He assumed Elizabeth understood that any future dates would not go any further than that, at least until—

  Until what? Could he possibly be thinking of marriage? She didn’t even believe in God. History showed that preaching the Word to Elizabeth was a sure-fire way to send her running. Besides, she might not be considering anything long-term. Not any more.

  But they belonged together. Aside from his own calling to the ministry, nothing else in his experience ever felt so right. He needed to be patient, trust God’s plan for them.

  Whatever that might be.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Monday morning brought a cool breeze and the smell of changing leaves. Autumn had arrived at last. The dramatic changes in New England seasons were an aspect of home Nathan missed most during his tenure in Orlando. Standing on the sidewalk in front of the church, Reverend Hayden consulted a well-worn list. The sheet was wrinkled from constant handling. He looked from the list to the suitcases and bags on the sidewalk.

  “Have you got everything, Pastor?” Nathan asked. Hayden waved away the question with one of his dismissive gestures then tucked the list into the back pocket of his chinos.

  “It’s amazing,” he said. “All these years, and what do I leave with? Two suitcases and two bags of books. You’d think I’d have accumulated more stuff, eh?”

  Nathan smiled. “You always said we should accept whatever God offers and want for nothing else.”

  Hayden grumbled, “Is that what I said? All those sermons and you just remember that one. I suppose it’s true. Jeannie was the pack rat of the family. Over the years, all that bric-a-brac found its way into church fairs, charity or what-not. She would have liked it that way. I was always more of a minimalist.”

  He screwed up his face, doing his best to maintain an impatient, almost cranky façade. This church had been his home, serving the parish the meaning of his life, for over thirty years, and he’d been alone here since Jean Hayden went to the Lord thirteen years before.

  Today it was over.

  Nathan wanted to put a hand on his shoulder, offer some comfort. It would be the wrong thing to do, to knock down the emotional wall Hayden had built.

  “I’ll make you proud, I promise.”

  A rusted SUV approached. Its directional light came on and the car pulled to a stop in front of them. Hayden ignored it. “You make sure no more fainting spells. Life can be traumatic enough without the pastor adding any drama.”

  “I promise. You sure you don’t want to leave some of this here until you’re back in town?”

  Hayden shrugged and said simply, “No, no.”

  Vincent Tarretti emerged from his Blazer and walked casually up to the two men. His face was its usual emotionless mask.

  “Reverend,” he said, nodding his head to Hayden, then turned toward Nathan. “Reverend,” he repeated, with a slight trace of a smile.

  “Vincent,” said Hayden. “I’m sorry. I should have told you what day I was leaving.”

  He shrugged. “Not to worry. I heard about it. Wanted to catch you before you left, see if you’ve everything you need.”

  A car drove by slowly, but did not stop. Nathan looked up and saw his father’s friend Mr. Paulson, watching them from behind the wheel. The car rolled past. Nathan felt a tightening in his stomach he couldn’t explain. Why did that man make him nervous?

  “No, I’m all set, but thank you just the same. Just showing my young protégé here how few items I have to take along.”

  Tarretti looked down at the luggage, then back up at Hayden. To Nathan, he seemed distracted. “Well, if you think you have everything. Nothing I can help you with?”

  The old man patted Tarretti’s shoulder and lifted a suitcase. “No, Vincent, but thank you for the offer. I have everything I need right here.”

  A blue sedan arrived, pulling to the curb in front of the Blazer. “Besides,” he added, “my ride’s here, and they don’t appreciate too many material goods in the monastery. Too much of a distraction.”

  Tarretti nodded. “The one in Leicester?”

  “The one and the same.”

  The man who emerged from the other car looked younger than Nathan, wearing long tan robes tied at the waist with a rope sash. The monk’s attire was a stark contrast to the modern world. He introduced himself as Brother Armand. After perfunctory introductions, he proceeded to load Hayden’s luggage into the trunk of his car. Vincent and Nathan helped, and by the time the trunk was closed, Hayden was already in the passenger seat.

  He rolled down the window and shook their hands. Brother Armand got behind the wheel and started the motor.

  “Take care of your flock, Pastor,” Hayden said. “Above all else, there is nothing more important than them.”

  “Agreed, Reverend. Good luck.”

  “Vince....”

  “Goodbye, sir. It was a pleasure. If you need anything, just—”

  But Hayden had pressed the window switch and there was suddenly glass between them. Tarretti and Nathan watched the blue sedan pull from the curb and followed its progress until it wound around a corner out of sight.

  * * *

  Vincent had made it a point to check the weight of the old man’s bags, try and feel some of the power he remember
ed from so long ago. No indication that he was leaving with anything more significant than socks and underwear. The grave had not been opened; he’d set his alarm for three o’clock this morning to check just that. He’d left Johnson in the house, much to the dog’s displeasure, and quietly crept along the grounds and into the woods, unseen by anyone who might be stationed nearby to keep a watch on him. It had taken almost an hour to reach Greenwood Street Cemetery via his pre-planned route through the back streets of Hillcrest. Only when he was at the base of the grave did he risk turning on the flashlight from his backpack and examining every detail around the site. Nothing looked disturbed; no more than small burrowing signs caused by a chipmunk or mouse.

  He now looked askance at Nathan Dinneck, who seemed uneasy with Vincent’s silence. Obviously the preacher wanted to get back inside and start his first official day in charge. Vincent had been silent for twenty-seven years, cautious and careful for almost half of his life. Now, he wanted to grab this young pup, shake him, ask if he was the one, the “priest” to carry the lost contents of the Ark to a new, safer place. His tongue was stayed by twenty-seven years of walking among the headstones of the town’s cemeteries, of blending into the background like a chameleon, never drawing attention to himself. He continued to stare, until finally Dinneck broke the silence.

  “Well, I guess I’ll be heading inside now. Lots to do.” He laughed nervously, started to offer his hand, but withdrew it, realizing the gesture would not be reciprocated. Vincent finally forced himself to blink and look away.

  “Yep,” he said, “me, too.” He walked to his car. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “I will.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The silence of the night permeated everything. His cell, the hall outside. Ralph Hayden shifted uncomfortably on the bunk. The dark was so complete he couldn’t see his own hand held in front of him. The normal nighttime sounds of cars along Dreyfus Road, the occasional barking dog, voices of walkers passing the church, these had been the background noise of his life for thirty years. Already he missed it... that, and the extra thick mattress which he assumed Nate Dinneck would now be using. A bed Ralph and Jean shared in their glorious, if too brief, time together. Living their dream.