John Dawes gave Jason a bear hug. Jason didn’t want him to let go.
Kate and Zef argued under their breath. Zef had a hard time tamping his anger and he’d turned his irritation on her. She told him to cool off in the car and he stalked away, carrying the sword out of the chapel. She followed.
Jason finally broke the hug.
“How did you know about the funeral?” said Jason.
“A nice fellow called me,” said Grandpa John.
“What fellow?”
“Dunno. Funny voice. Real deep.”
“That would be – me,” said Valerie, joining them. “I thought Jason – should have some – family here.”
Hadewych scowled. Jason smiled and took Dawes’s left arm. Valerie took the right. They helped Dawes up the aisle, leaving Hadewych to grumble along behind.
“Grandpa John – ” said Jason.
“Just John. I haven’t been married to Eliza for a decade. Oh, there she is, poor sweetness.”
“Okay. Here’s the thing. I’m seventeen now, and so I’m almost an adult, you know?”
“You’re tall. Like your daddy.”
“They say I need a guardian, just for the next year.”
“Oh?” The old man stopped briefly. He saw the next question coming and wanted to be braced for it. “That’s what they say?”
“So – would you be my guardian?” said Jason.
“You already have a guardian,” said Hadewych, stepping in front of them.
“This is Mister Van Brunt,” Jason said. He didn’t release Dawes’s arm when Hadewych extended a hand.
“Eliza’s choice for guardian,” Hadewych added.
“We don’t exactly see eye to eye,” said Jason. “I’d much rather have you.”
“I’m not blood.”
“Neither’s Hadewych. And you’re more family than he is.”
“Hell,” said Dawes. “You’re a grown man. Why do you even need a guardian? I was on my own at your age.”
“Exactly,” said Jason. “You wouldn’t need to do anything. It’s only paperwork.”
“You wouldn’t even – need to – live together,” said Valerie.
Dawes shrugged.
“I’ll think about it,” he said. “If it’s the right thing to do, okay. But – ” He gestured towards the coffin. “ – let me say my goodbyes first?”
“Of course.”
Dawes continued up the aisle. Jason left him with Valerie. He whispered to Osorio.
“I want Mister Van Brunt to leave.”
“I will not,” said Hadewych. “I’m the executor. I’m coming to the service.”
“Fine,” said Jason. “This isn’t the service. Get out. I’ll see you graveside. I’d like to say goodbye in a room that doesn’t stink of you.”
Hadewych began to bluster, but Osorio patted his arm.
“Family’s decision,” Osorio said, and led Hadewych from the room.
Jason joined Valerie and Dawes at the side of Eliza’s coffin. A cloud must have moved aside, because the windows flared magnificently and bathed the coffin in color.
“Oh, look at her go,” said Dawes, happily. “She always did love the sun.”
“She did,” Jason said, thinking. He glanced at Valerie. “Okay. Let me see the card?” he whispered.
Valerie slipped the tarot card out of her purse and gave it to Jason. The card displayed a baby riding a white horse, giggling happily, arms and legs thrown out with abandon. The baby wore a crown of sunflowers, picked from the field of sunflowers in the background. A dazzling sun filled the sky above the child’s head. A happy card.
Jason nodded. “I’ll put it in,” he said.
Valerie nodded. She and Grandpa John shuffled away.
Jason said his final, private goodbyes. One of Eliza’s buttons had slipped loose, and he fixed it for her. He tucked the card into her hand. The tears came now, finally, a river that felt wider and deeper and older than the Hudson.
He was grateful for the little card, grateful that she would always have the sun.
He exhausted his inexhaustible tears. McCaffrey stepped forward and closed the lid.
34 GRAVESIDE
McCaffrey and his men carried the coffin to the hearse. Jason went to Osorio’s office to retrieve his backpack. Crossing the darkened chapel, he heard angry whispers coming from the hall. Hadewych had Zef backed against the men’s room door. He wagged a finger in the boy’s face. Zef made some self-justification and Hadewych slapped him. The sound was like a ruler on a chalkboard.
Jason gasped. They turned in his direction, embarrassed. Zef stumbled away, grateful to escape. Hadewych and Jason scowled at each other across the length of the hall. Jason walked on.
He stiff-armed the rear doors and found the shady driveway on the eastern side. Wind bit his cheeks. Zef joined Kate in Hadewych’s car. Valerie led Dawes to her own vehicle. Hadewych and Jason both reached for the passenger-side handle of the hearse.
“It’s my place to ride with Eliza,” said Jason. “You can ride in the back. Next time it’s available.”
Hadewych slunk away. He joined Kate and Zef.
McCaffrey slid into the driver’s seat and the caravan rolled out. McCaffrey inched along so that nothing in the back would shift. The sprays of gladiola and roses that lay with the coffin filled the cab with perfume. Beyond the window, the rows of flowers along the driveway became manicured hedges and ranks of headstones. Tombs passed. Jason felt as empty as the branches above the road.
“How much did he pay you?” he said.
McCaffrey looked in his rear window, side window, anywhere but Jason’s eyes.
“Two hundred.”
“I should have known you’d already opened it,” said Jason. “The bolts were loose. You made a big show – so we wouldn’t guess, right?”
“They were tough the first time,” McCaffrey said. They crested the hill and rolled downward. “The bands too. The ol’ van was dark. Bumpy. Almost put my eye out.”
“And what was inside?”
“Something big. Gold.”
“Gold?”
“Worth more’n two hundred, easy.” McCaffrey shook his head.
They drove past the Van Brunt tomb. Jason remembered the painting of Agathe, down in the secret chamber, the painting of her as a young woman standing at the Gory Brook fireplace, her hand on the mantel near… something… that had been whitewashed over. He had scratched at the whitewash and his glove had come back with flecks of gold leaf.
“And he just took it,” Jason said.
“Popped it in a cardboard box lickety-split. Stuck it in his trunk. That’s all I know.”
They drove in silence.
“I liked your grandma a lot,” said McCaffrey.
“I believe you,” said Jason.
They passed a stone cenotaph honoring soldiers of the American Revolution. Tiny flags bustled at its foot. Ancient maple trees, older than the country, maybe, spilled blood-red branches overhead. The hearse found a straight road along the river. The waters of the Pocantico were angry, gorged with rain. Jason recognized the faux-rustic bridge that led to –
“Where are we burying her?” Jason rolled down the window. The flowers had become overpowering.
“The Palmyra section.”
McCaffrey turned onto the bridge. The hearse’s wheels sounded like hoofbeats on the wood. Water thrashed below. A chain link fence appeared on the right. Jason remembered skirting it from the outside the day he’d lost the dragon. The hearse drifted uphill, entering the cage of the auxiliary cemetery.
“Here?” Jason said.
“You’d already bought the plot,” said McCaffrey.
“For Absalom.”
“We put Absalom back yesterday,” said McCaffrey.
“Back? Back under the Van Brunt tomb?”
“Nah, that woulda been a pain. Above. In one of the boxes.”
McCaffrey turned the hearse. Headstones dotted the slope. More hoofbeats clattered behind them as t
he other cars followed. Jason watched the graves go by. This was the plainest part of the cemetery.
“When this is over,” said Jason, “I’m going to want Absalom out of there.”
“No problem. You and Hadewych will need to sign another exhumation order, though.”
That vindictive son of a bitch.
They stopped. On the slope, a mound of green Astroturf sat beside an open hole, the bare dirt hidden by fake grass and standing wreaths. Joey stood at the curb with three other workers. McCaffrey parked the hearse.
Joey and the workers joined McCaffrey and Jason to act as pallbearers. Hadewych reached for the coffin rail, but Jason’s hatred could have set the man on fire. Hadewych stepped back and joined the others. Kate, Zef, Valerie, Dawes, and Hadewych stood in a semicircle around the grave. The earth was too soft for chairs. The bearers laid the coffin upon the sling of straps that would lower it into the ground. A minister from the Reformed Church of the Tarrytowns stepped forward and began a canned speech, a tribute to Eliza from someone who had never met her. Jason’s thoughts drifted.
Eliza’s grave lay in the farthest corner of the cemetery, within sight of the river and close to the forest. A tidy birch tree stood a little down the slope, providing shade. Beyond the chain link, a few joggers loped past: the aqueduct trail – the path back home.
Not a bad spot, actually.
The minister worked hard to get in his entire repertoire of platitudes. Finally, like a man out of toothpaste no matter how hard he squeezed, he ran out of words and had to put the cap back on. He blessed the grave. Jason was thinking of the Eliza he knew, the one the minister had never met. The one who made cocoa and swore like a sailor when she stubbed her toe. The one who didn’t suffer fools, who ate crackers in bed and liked dirty jokes and yelled at the television and loved her grandson and her puppy dog. The minister asked if anyone present would like to speak. The group looked to Jason but he didn’t trust his voice. He shook his head. He didn’t have the words. The too-brief service ended. Joey reached for the crank that would lower the coffin.
“May I say something, please?”
Had Hadewych asked it? Jason might have lunged if he had. But Grandpa John stepped forward and the minister ceded the stage.
“I was Eliza’s husband for four years,” said Dawes, “and those were the happiest four years of my life. I had a fine young man to raise. I can’t believe you got so tall. And I had a real lady to come home to. But I couldn’t keep up with this crazy woman, though I tried. She danced, she gardened, she traveled, she painted – before her fingers started hurting – she did pottery and leaded glass and flower arranging and jet skied. She used to fly airplanes, too, little Cessnas. She missed that when she couldn’t do it anymore. She always looked up. Shook her head. She hated being stuck on the ground. She had a poem that she liked, something about touching the face of God. I wish I’d brung it. And – she started a business, did you know that? Her own pizza place. Got bored in two months and sold the joint at a profit. You know she closed the Holland Tunnel once? Ran out of gas halfway in and they thought she was a terrorist. She was a dang nut, your grandmother. And she was never old. She was still breaking hearts at seventy. She was always going someplace new, always saying goodbye. I was proud she stayed with me as long as she did. What can I say?” The old man sighed and shrugged. “They broke the mold.”
He raised his palm and touched the wood of the coffin.
“Kick ass in heaven, lady,” he said.
Joey turned the little crank and the coffin sank into the grave.
The service was over.
Hadewych thanked the minister and stood talking to the man at graveside. Kate and Zef held hands nearby, waiting for Hadewych to say his goodbyes.
“She was such a good friend,” Hadewych said. “I’m heartbroken.”
The minister embraced Hadewych, comforting him. Jason wheeled in disgust and walked away. He saw Joey down the hill, waiting by a truck full of shovels. Joey raised a hand and Jason returned the gesture. He found Grandpa John standing under the birch tree. The old man offered Jason half a stick of Juicy Fruit but Jason declined.
“That was a nice speech,” said Jason.
“I just wanted you to know. She had a good life.”
Jason nodded.
“About this guardianship,” Dawes said. “I’m hesitant.”
“I get that.”
“I’m an old man, you know.”
“Oh, you could still beat me up if you want.”
Dawes nodded and grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Think about it, though?” Jason said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Hadewych is… a creep. He hits his son and I don’t trust him with the estate. Please help me.”
“If it’s like that, then… let me mull it over and I’ll let you know. I got Valerie’s number.”
“Thank you.”
Jason hugged the man. Another bear hug, but the bear felt very frail in his arms.
Valerie stood at graveside, looking down at the coffin and weeping, so Dawes flagged down McCaffrey.
“Can I get a lift back?” Dawes said.
“Sure. Hop in the hearse.” McCaffrey shook Jason’s hand. “Fine lady, Ms. Merrick. Real shame. My boys will do the rest. Sorry for your loss. Sorry for – ” he glanced at Hadewych. The minister was patting him on the back as he wept. “ – for everything.”
McCaffrey and Dawes climbed into the hearse and rode away.
Kate left Zef with Hadewych and found Jason wandering among the graves.
“You shouldn’t be alone,” she said.
“I am alone,” Jason said. “More than I’ve ever been. What am I going to do? Eliza wanted to set me up, you know? After she was gone? Now – what a mess.”
“It will be okay,” Kate said. She put her head on his shoulder for a moment. He did feel better. She squeezed his arm. “I need to tell you something,” she said, “but don’t get mad?”
“What?”
She brought her lips to his ear.
“Your fly’s undone,” she said. She drew back, biting her lip. “Sorry. I thought you would want to know.”
His fly was undone. But Jason didn’t feel stupid. Not with her. Not anymore. He nodded, zipped, and gestured to his face. “Hey,” he said, “Eyes up here, lady.”
She blushed and covered her mouth. Jason smiled. They laughed. She hugged him. It was good. It had felt so good to laugh. She joined Zef at graveside with Hadewych, who was wiping his eyes with a handkerchief. She slipped her arm around her boyfriend’s waist. She glanced back once.
“Pretty girl,” said Valerie, stepping up behind Jason. “You like her?”
“Yeah.”
“More than – like her?”
Valerie gave Jason a knowing smile.
“Is it that obvious?” Jason said.
“No. But the cards – never lie. Come to – dinner tomorrow? Yes? I have so much to – tell you.”
She started to walk away, but Jason reached for her. He had remembered his plan to leave that night, to climb into the RV and escape. If she had anything to say – this was his last chance to hear. Jason’s hand caught the strap of her black purse. Valerie turned around. She looked at his hand on the strap. He felt certain that they both were thinking of the night at the bridge, of a black purse strap breaking, and keys falling out into the mud. But the strap didn’t break, and Jason let go.
“Tell me,” he said. “Please?”
“Now?”
He nodded. “I have to know now. Tell me.”
“I can do – better. I can show you.” She glanced over to Hadewych, who had walked up the slope to light a cigarette, hands shaking, putting on an immense show of grief. Kate and Zef and the minister were all consoling him now. Valerie reached into her purse and produced a document in plastic. “Read it,” she said. “The translation’s on the back.”
Jason read the thing aloud, his voice low.
“My dear Dylan, I have buried what you seek. Y
ou will not recover it. She is gone, our Agathe, and her prize rests in my hands at last. Looking upon this thing, I know I shall not keep it or use it myself. I cannot, though this be, ay, the foundation stone upon which our fortunes rest. I leave you with ample stone, my son, stone enough. You have no need of the Horseman’s treasure.”
“It’s the same letter,” Jason said. “I’ve seen this.”
“Keep reading,” said Valerie.
“I have built within the new graveyard a tomb where I shall lie with my sire, when God calls and when it shall be his mercy and pleasure to accept this poor sinner. I would take the boon into my own grave, were it not for your demanding want of the thing, which I would not satisfy. Therefore in our tomb I have buried, in service to his widow whom we [cannot] find, the body of the unfortunate Absolom [sic] Crane. I think it meet that this son of old Ichabod and I shall lie side to side for eternity. As I share Irving’s Legend with the father, I shall share a tomb with the son. It is with Absalom that the thing is buried. You shall not look upon it again, for without consent of the man’s widow he may not be raised.
“Do not long for that of which I have deprived you. My quarry you shall have, and my gold, and whatever you – ”
Jason turned the page…and there was another page.
“ – you provide yourself by ingenuity and industry.”
Jason looked up. “This is the whole thing. The whole letter.”
Valerie nodded.
“You had this from the start?”
“No. I’ll explain. Just read.”
“I know that you have used the thing, my son. As soon as Crane came up dead at the skirt of Wiley Swamp, I knew. Pray that none other witnessed your quarrel at Sunnyside on Halloween night, else suspicion may fall upon you.
“I had grown tired and had laid myself to rest at back of Mr. Irving’s writing room, drawing the curtain as not to embarrass myself before the other guests. I heard your words together. Though you raved at the man, the son of Ichabod spoke truly. Our wealth was indeed ‘amassed by trickery from the first’. We are ‘the wretched villains of the tale’.
“I have read our Agathe’s diary. I have heard the full truth as you have not.”
Sleepy Hollow: Rise Headless and Ride Page 31
