by Green, Jeri
“I can’t rightly say. I ain’t never actually seen a ghost out here myself. You know how I never stay out and about after sundown, except for Button Dudley’s burial. I only did that then because it was my job. I ain’t ashamed to tell you Hadley, I did it, but I didn’t like it one bit.”
“I know,” Hadley said, remembering the uncomfortable look on Beanie’s face as he shoveled in the dirt on top of the casket that night.
“Let’s take a look and see what’s going on, Bean. Maybe some kids have been out here messing around or something. Let’s see if anything is damaged.”
Reaching out to push the mausoleum door open, Hadley stopped and drew back her hand.
“Look, Bean! That is a star anise. It is used as a protective herb against demons. I found one on my jacket after Button Dudley ran into me at the Halloween festival.”
Hadley took out her flip cell phone and snapped a picture of the herb resting near the door and of the slightly ajar door itself. “Wish I had my video camera, Bean. I may just have to start carrying it with me wherever I go.”
She proceeded to push on the thick metal door. It groaned and creaked and remained shut tight.
“I don’t think this door has been opened in a long time. Was it locked, Beanie?”
“I don’t know. I never check the doors on these things. I just keep the outside clean, you know, if birds poop on it. I keep the ground around it mowed and clear of limbs and brush. I don’t ever remember it being open though whenever I’ve been in this part of the cemetery.”
High up on the hillside looking down at the two below stood a lone figure. It was Aurora Ralgnild. Hidden behind a large tree trunk, she watched Hadley and Beanie from the cover of the forest. She had known someone was coming, so she hastily retreated to the safety and concealment of the woods. She silently watched and waited to see what the two were up to.
Hadley looked around the cemetery. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. She didn’t tell Beanie, because she did not want to frighten him in the place he had to come to work every day, but she a feeling they were being watched.
It had been that same eerie feeling the night of Button’s burial, but she put it off to being in a cemetery after dark. This was broad daylight and the feeling had come again. She did not see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Just row after row of headstones and her car parked where she had left it near the workshed where Beanie kept his tools.
She gave a firm push on the door of the granite structure. It opened.
A dry, musty smell emanated from inside the stone edifice. The interior was dank. A thick layer of dust coated every surface, like snow in winter. The air was cold. The first thing Hadley noticed was a tall cloaked figure carved out of some kind of black stone. The folds in the material of the hooded statue were expertly rendered. The most striking feature was its head.
Where the face should have been was a gaping hole that sucked out all light. It was unnerving. To Hadley, it appeared a black deeper than any black she’d ever seen.
The figure was holding a plate with a carved loaf of partially eaten bread. His other cloaked arm held a big book with the letters BIBLE carved on its front.
Beanie gasped.
“It’s okay, Bean, it’s just a statue. It won’t hurt you,” Hadley said reassuringly. Hadley inspected the carving closer. “You know, this thing kind of looks like the thing that ran into me at the Halloween festival.
“I wonder if it is supposed to represent a sin-eater. Maybe this guy, whoever he was, did some evil things during his lifetime. Must to have really feared for his soul to fork out the money to have this life-sized piece made. Even back then, I expect this would have cost a pretty penny.”
“Yeah,” Beanie said. “It looks like something I remember my grandma telling stories about one Halloween when I was a little boy. We visited her cabin. She was rockin’ in her rockin’ chair. I was sitting near the fireplace roasting a couple of ears of corn in the ashes. I had nightmares for a week after she told me those stories.”
A coffin sat to the left of the hooded figure. An old oil lamp sat on the floor at the head of the coffin. An intricate stone mourner’s bench took up the right side of the room. On the north and south walls of the mausoleum were beautiful, old, leaded-glass windows. The light filtered through them, muted and dim.
“Look, Hadley, there in the dust, it looks like somebody’s been walking around.”
“I see, Beanie,” Hadley said, looking at the small footprints on the floor. “Look at that bench. Somebody’s bottom made that mark, like they were sitting here visiting. It’s very small. Almost like a child. Have you seen anyone around this part of the cemetery lately?”
“No, I think Harvey told me this is one of the oldest things in the cemetery. Ain’t nuthin’ but old stones on this end. Lots of ’em have had their letters plum erased.”
“The rain and elements do that to the really old markers, Bean.”
“It certainly is a mighty fancy grave house. Harvey said Mr. Wardlawwas a crazy old rich guy. His father owned some coal mines in West Virginia and Kentucky. Harvey said the man who ran the cemetery told him this guy liked to play act like he was poor and real religious. He used to ride all over the mountains on this big old white mule and pretend to be a circuit preacher.
“Harvey said he called himself ‘Preacher Law.’ Split up his last name and used ‘Ward’ as his first name. Harvey said he never knew his real name. The man who ran the cemetery said they found him hanging from a beam in the little church in town with a sack of gold coins hanging around his neck and a paper with instructions on how he wanted to be buried. Said he specified the name WARDLAW be carved over the door. No other words were on the instructions, no birth or death dates, just that one word.
“Harvey said it was the durndest thing he ever heard. Harvey told me he had this stone grave house built like the man wanted it and put his coffin in it. I never looked inside the stone grave house before.
“Ain’t none a my beeswax what was inside. I only know about the outside of the building.If you go around the backside, which I have to do sometimes to clear out weeds ’n’ such, there are these little angel statues lined up along the back of the grave house. They’re a sight, Hadley. They really are. For some reason, they all have their faces turned to the wall. All you see are wings and backsides. I never have figured out what all that was about. I guess I am going to have another my-brain if I don’t stop figuring so much.”
Hadley took out her flip phone and took a picture of the hooded statue with the black hole face. She took a picture of the footprints in the dust and one of the mourning bench with the impression of where it looked like someone had been sitting.
All this is enough to give me a my-brain, she thought.
“Such a strange story,” said Hadley. “I can’t imagine.”
“Go ’round the back and take a look, Hadley,” Beanie said.
“We will check out the back of the building in a minute, Beanie.
“It doesn’t look like the coffin has been disturbed. That layer of dust is in pristine condition. No smudges or prints that I can see.”
On top of the coffin lay an old-fashioned, large-brim black hat, at least Hadley thought it originally started out its life as black. It too was covered in a thick coating of dust and numerous cobwebs to look anything but gray. They shrouded the old hat like a glove.
“Anyway, I don’t think it is a crime to visit with the dead, do you? Come on, Bean, let’s go around back and look at those angels.”
Hadley and Beanie stepped out of the mausoleum and walked around the building. Just as Beanie had described, there stood five child-sized white marble statues of angels, wings outspread and all of them facing the wall.
“Look, Bean,” she said, “they each look different. It’s not like there are five cookie-cutter angels back here. They could be five different little kids with wings.”
She moved around each statue trying to get a closer look.
“Wait here a minute,” Hadley said. “I am going back to the car and get something from my purse.”
“Okay.” Beanie said.
Hadley opened the trunk. She rummaged around for minute. Beanie saw her return to the mausoleum. She was holding something in her hand.
“Here, Beanie, let’s use this makeup mirror and see if we can figure out what these angels are doing. Those big wings are blocking our view.”
Holding the mirror in front of the first angel, Hadley could see a young girl who was bending down on one knee holding a bird in her little hand. The second angel was also a young girl. She appeared to be holding a wreath of flowers in her small hand. The third young girl seemed to be wiping a tear from her eye with her hand. The fourth angel was hugging a rag doll. Hadley made her way down to the fifth angel. She was a young girl who appeared to have a small pail in her hand. Something was carved in the bucket. Hadley moved the mirror around until she finally could make it out.
In the last little angel’s bucket was a heaping mound of ripe blackberries.
* * *
Aurora stood in the dimness of the forest watching Hadley and Beanie investigate the back of the WARDLAW tomb. She had left the mausoleum a few minutes before the two strangers arrived.
It was all right. The woods were hiding her. They would never see her.
She had come at the bidding of Button Dudley, who had visited her at her isolated cabin in the woods. He had wanted her to witness his burial. She felt privileged to have been in the presence of the Ancients as they had gathered to send Button’s soul to the safety of the hereafter.
The trip down the mountain had been a long and arduous one for Aurora. With only her walking stick for support, she started the journey. Arriving shortly before the midnight ceremony, she positioned herself in the shadows near a headstone that hid her from the view of the others who had gathered around the black, gaping hole.
As she watched, Aurora knew Button’s soul was at peace. He had successfully made the journey to the afterlife. She watched him ascend to the light and disappear. Button left with a smile on his face.
But after the graveside ceremony, Aurora discovered she was too tired to make the return journey back up the mountain. She had packed a meager amount of food that she has stored in the cloth thrown over her back. She had gotten water from the springs that dotted the mountainsides.
She could have slept out under the stars, like she had so many nights as a young girl, but Aurora knew a storm was coming. All the signs were right for lightening, wind, and rain. She had to find someplace to hunker down and stay until the storm had passed.
After the man shoveled in the last of the dirt, he and the lady waiting for him had left in a car. Aurora found herself alone in the cemetery with the approaching storm and only the dead to keep her company. But she didn’t mind. As long as she had a dry place to lay her head and rest for a spell, she thought, things would be all right.
She looked about for a good place to bed down for the night.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw movement. The dim glow shimmered and sputtered before her. It grew larger and brighter. A little girl with golden plaited hair like a halo began to appear before Aurora’s eyes. Her white flour sack dress gleamed in the black of the night.
When Aurora saw the little pail of blackberries in the little girl’s hand, she knew Ocey Sodder had come to visit her.
“Follow me,” Ocey said. “I know where there’s a save place for you. It’s dry. The winds can’t beat you there. This way. Come. I will show you. It’s this way. It’s not far.”
Aurora gathered up the material of her long flowing skirt and obediently followed the little girl. She led the old woman to a far corner of the cemetery.
A streak of lightening lit up the night sky. Aurora saw that she was standing in front of a large stone building. Ocey pointed to a spot in the wall with a decorative carving of a nesting raven in the stone.
Aurora placed her hand over the omen of death, and it turned in her hand. A small door slid open, revealing a skeleton key. Aurora took the key. Placing the key in the keyhole, she turned it.
She heard the echo of the tumblers turning in the lock. To the tired old woman, it felt as if the door magically opened when she pressed her hand on it. Putting the key back in its little hidden area, she turned the raven in the opposite direction, and the little door slid back into position, concealing the skeleton key from view.
Lightning flashed, and the wind began to whip the branches of the cemetery trees. Storms in the hills can be angry things. Thunder boomed overhead, and the clouds burst open. Heavy torrents of rain began falling. Aurora spent the night in the lonely graveyard with only the headstones for company. In the morning, she would go home. But for the rest of the night, she would remain here – dry under the ornate roof in this house of stone carved to house a dead man.
* * *
Beanie was looking for something to occupy himself until quitting time. He had oiled his shovels and other tools. He’d made sure everything was stored nicely on its hook or shelf. He had restrung his weed-eater, made sure the gas had been run out of the mowers so condensation wouldn’t foul up the motors over the winter.
It had been a long day, and Beanie was ready to go home. He could taste the canned chili he had waiting for him in his cabinet over the sink. He had finished clearing all of the broken branches and limbs off of the graves.
He decided to walk the grounds one more time to make sure he had removed all the debris from the storm. He grabbed his thick coat and pulled an old stocking hat down over his ears. He wondered if winter was going to hang around this year. He shivered and zipped his coat up. That old cedar sometimes threw off limbs when the winds whipped up strongly.
Nope.
Nothing on the ground there.
He moved on toward the Heath plot. Its wrought iron fencing kept out most of the blowing debris during a storm, but occasionally, things got stuck in the fence. He checked out all four sides. He saw nothing.
On to the tree-lined section near the Field family and the Dula clan, Beanie saw something. It lay on the ground near the Deel stone. It looked like some kind of nest had blown out of the trees and had landed near the trunk of an old oak standing guard over the families for decades.
He picked it up, cradling it carefully. It was brittle. Old. A few downy feathers still clung to the inside of the nest. It looked as fragile as a snowflake in his hand, and Beanie was afraid it would crumble between his fingers.
He was reminded of last summer when he’d found another nest.
* * *
Beanie had been finishing up that day. It was sweltering hot. He bent down and noticed there was something in the broken nest. Carefully opening the crack in the nest, he saw a balled up baby squirrel. The baby lay very still. He looked around and saw no sign of the mother. He knew the baby would not survive alone.
Taking off his baseball hat, he eased the baby it.
He began to run back to town. He had to get this baby some help. He hoped he running didn’t injure the squirrel, but he knew he had to act fast. He ran until he felt like his lungs would burst. His heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer. Still, he ran.
As he neared the first of the two stoplights, he saw a car he recognized. He hoped Hadley would see him and give him a ride to the animal rescue center. He thought if she didn’t, he just might die right here on the street like poor Harry had all those years ago.
Hadley spotted Beanie running for all he was worth. Pulling to the curb, she opened the passenger door and called out.
“What’s wrong, Beanie? Are you all right?”
Beanie ran up to the car and jumped into the passenger seat.
“I got a sick baby squirrel in my hat. I found it at O’dell Deel’s plot. I think it’s still alive. Can we get to Miz Ruth before it dies? I don’t want to have to dig a grave for a baby squirrel, Hadley. I think it would break my heart.”
“Okay
, Bean, shut the door and turn up the AC. We will get that baby there as fast as old Betsy can make it.”
After looking to make sure there was nothing coming down the road, she did a quick U-turn and started for MEGA park. If Bill saw her, he would give her a ticket, but she would deal with that later.
She eased up to the security gate and was buzzed in. Together, she and Beanie, cradling the baby in his ball hat, hurried into the center. Ruth met them at the door and gingerly took the bundle from Beanie.
“Let’s have a look at you,” Ruth said as she took the baby squirrel into the exam room.
“Let’s stay out here, Bean, so we don’t get in Ruth’s way,” Hadley said.
They went into the little break room to wait. Hadley went to the vending machine and bought two sodas.
“Here, drink this. You look like you are about scared to death. Did you run all the way back from the cemetery with that squirrel in your hat?”
“Yeah, I knew it needed help, and it was the fastest way I could think of to get it back to town. I’m glad you saw me. I don’t think I could have made it all the way up to the rescue center.”
“I had to make a run to Pixies for more food for Onus,” Hadley said. “I think he’s trying to put on extra fat for spite or something. I’m glad I saw you, too.”
“I’m glad I didn’t fall over dead,” Beanie said. “I might have squished the baby squirrel.”
Ruth came out, and Beanie stood up. He had a worried look on his face that tugged at Hadley’s heart.
“You were right to bring him in, Beanie,” Ruth said. “He got a little banged up in the fall from the tree. He is resting comfortably in a warm bed. I’ve had to set his back ankle. He took some food. I’ll watch him, but I think he’ll be okay. I got him to tinkle, and that’s always a good sign.”
“Can I see him?” Beanie asked.
“Just a peek,” she said.
Beanie went to the recovery and looked into the towel-lined box. The little squirrel was sleeping in his clean bed. His back leg was wrapped in a splint with a bright red bandage.
