Fallen Stones

by Thomas M. Malafarina

  Jason turned slowly, once more looking back toward the woods. He was going to have to ask the lawyer just how far their property extended beyond the meadow; how far into the woods were his responsibility. He was hoping it ended just behind where he stood so this clump of bushes and the woods beyond were someone else's problem. But regardless of where his land ended, dealing with it was going to be a major adjustment for he and his family to make.

  Chapter 15

  Jason looked down into the weeds just a few feet ahead of where he stood and noticed sunlight reflecting off something dull and gray jutting out of a clump of wild grass. It was located right in front of the carcass of the dead fawn. He hunkered down, pushed the grass aside trying to stay as far away from the repulsive remains as possible and was surprised to discover something he never expected to see. What had caught his eye in the reflective light were actually two small rectangular-shaped stone signs of some sort.

  Then he realized they were not exactly signs, but to his shock and dismay, they appeared to be small grave markers about eighteen inches tall, a foot wide and an inch or so thick. The stones were lying flat on their backs as if they had been knocked over or had fallen down.

  "Fallen Stones!" Jason said, instantly realizing the significance of his statement. "I wonder of that's where Washburn came up with the name for this place. Maybe he was out here walking around and found them or something like that." But then he wondered if that were true, why hadn't Washburn at least stand the markers back up in position again. They were not that large or heavy.

  Jason studied the tombstones more carefully. Near the center of the slightly arched tops of the stones, he saw two identical images carved inside of a circle. They were that of an angel or a cherub of some type, typically seen on grave markers of small children.

  As he pushed aside more of the grass he could see an inscription, barely legible just below the image on the weathered face of the first stone. It read, "Matthew James Livingston, June 12, 1916 - December 19, 1922". The second one said "Charles Edward Livingston July 2, 1918 - December 19 1922".

  "Livingston?" He said aloud and recalled the portrait of Stephanie's ancestors in the main house. "That was the name of Stephanie's great-grandparents. Yes, Livingston."

  Jason calculated the ages of the boys as he read the inscription once again. Since the boys had been so young at the time of their passing, Matthew six and Charles four, he made the assumption they must have perished from some terminal childhood disease. He knew as most people did, the mortality rate for young children was extremely high at the early part of the twentieth century. He thought about his own children, especially Sammy and realized how lucky he was to have been born at a time when such deaths were few in this country. Then he reread the inscriptions and saw something he missed the first time. Both boys had died on the same day. He could not imagine what sort of tragedy could have occurred which might have resulted in the both boys' simultaneous deaths, except for perhaps a fire or some other similar disaster.

  He looked down at the first stone once again and upon further examination, noticed another inscription just below the date. He hunkered down closer to get a better look at the writing, dusting dirt from the front of the stone. The message was carved in a different font than the previous notation, one that was more calligraphic in nature. When he read the inscription, he saw that it bore the cryptic and ominous phrase, "Taken From Us Too Soon, By The Hand Of Evil." At first, the strange inscription stunned Jason. Then he looked closer at the second stone, Charles' stone, and saw it too bore the exact same inscription, "Taken From Us Too Soon, By The Hand Of Evil."

  "What the Hell!" Jason exclaimed, trying to make sense of the whole situation. He suddenly felt as if he needed to put some space between himself and the ominous grave markers. He tried to shuffle backward away from the stones, but because of his awkward position, he stumbled and fell flat on his backside, catching himself with his hands. As he did so, he felt something soft and cold beneath his right hand. Then he sensed something crawling between his fingers.

  He looked down and saw his hand had sunken deep into one of the open cavities of the dead fawn's torso and was immersed in the pink gelatinous cluster of rotting internal organs decaying within the beast. He saw hundreds of white worm-like maggots crawling between his splayed fingers, their shiny flesh glistening in the afternoon sunlight.

  "Oh Jesus!" he cried out, struggling to his feet. "Sweet mother of God!" He shook off as much of the vile gooey matter as was possible while trying desperately not to vomit. Stirring up the mass of entrails had caused a new wave of stench to rise up from the remains creating an invisible cloud of foul odor Jason swore he could almost taste. A swarm of insects flew up from the rotting carcass and encircled Jason's face as if he too were a dead thing, which they could use in place of the deer. He swatted at them with his left hand careful to keep his right hand as far away from himself as possible.

  Not wanting to wipe the disgusting substance on his clothing, he looked around for some large leaves or perhaps a clump of grass or anything he could use to clean himself. As he struggled to wipe himself clean in the tall grass, he inadvertently uncovered a few other headstones. He could see they were quite old as well, much older than the first two he had found, but he did not take the time to examine them or read their inscriptions. He realized this was not just some random cluster of weeds but he was in fact, in some sort of family plot, a small private cemetery.

  When his right hand appeared to be as clean as he could get it, he walked out of the grassy area and headed back toward the spa where Stephanie, Armstrong and the kids waited. He assumed they had chosen to wait for him there rather than go back to the main house. He held his right hand away from his body, not wanting to get it any closer to him than necessary. As he walked, he forced himself to regain his composure for the sake of the kids. He already knew he was going to have to do something about that graveyard situation and do so before they moved onto the property.

  Jason recalled how often when he and the family would take weekend drives in rural Berks and Lancaster counties; they would see Amish and Mennonite farms with small fenced in family cemeteries. Stephanie had often commented how it "grossed her out" to think about trying to live a normal life on a farm while "all those dead people" were buried not very far away. It didn't seem to matter that the people were deceased loved ones; to Stephanie they were simply dead bodies. It was not that she was superstitious or would believe the property could be haunted by the souls of the departed. Nor did she think some night the dead might crawl from their graves to feast on the flesh of living as was often portrayed in movies. She just didn't like the idea of knowingly sharing her property with the dead. Jason decided he would not mention his discovery to Stephanie, unless he absolutely had to.

  As he walked back toward his family, he began to wonder. "What if there were no actual bodies buried in the cemetery? What if it was not really a graveyard at all, but was merely a spot of ground, which the former owners designated to commemorate the deaths of their departed, loved ones? What if the actual bodies were buried somewhere else and this was just like a shrine?"

  Jason realized he had only been rationalizing. He was trying to convince himself there were no bodies buried in the tiny cemetery, so it would make it easier for him to do what he suddenly realized he was going to have to do. The more he thought about it, the more he realized his idea that no one might actually buried there was a weak hope at best. Jason assumed it was like being part of a firing squad and believing your gun was the one without the live ammunition so you could appease your guilt and sleep at night knowing you had done nothing wrong. He wondered if he would sleep at night once he had done what he was planning on doing.

  Yes, he felt quit certain those were not just markers but actual gravestones. And buried below the gravestones would be real rotting corpses. He thought again about the dead fawn staring up at him through its blackened eye sockets and wondered if the bodies in that family plot had be
en staring up at him from below the earth, through their own empty eye sockets as well. The thought sent a chill down his spine and this discomfort only served to make him more aware of the filthy condition of his right hand.

  By the time Jason reached his waiting family, he had already formulated a plan of action. As an engineer, Jason was naturally a problem solver and after all, this situation was nothing more than a problem that needed a solution. Regardless of whether there were bodies buried in the cemetery or not, he would carry out his plan. In fact, he decided he didn't even want to know if there were really bodies buried there, as that knowledge would only serve to complicate matters.

  Jason decided, when he officially accepted the new Ashton manager's position on Monday at his office in Lancaster, he knew he was going to be required to schedule several business trips up to the Ashton plant before making his official transfer and moving his family to their new home. In reality, it might actually take a few weeks for him to move his new office to Ashton, and he would likely commute for perhaps a month or two before the family moved. However, he suspected they would be spending most weekends at the new house so he would have to work fast. There would be numerous things to do and many plans to make both at work and at home.

  During one of those business trips, one which he would be sure to make alone, Jason would allow for enough time to return to the property, locate and then remove every one of the headstones from the dilapidated graveyard. Although he had given it some consideration, he had made up his mind that he didn't want to deal with what he assumed would be the bureaucratic hassle of relocating any graves to a different location.

  This was not just because of the red tape but also because of the potential cost involved. Jason had no idea what such an endeavor might entail or what it would cost him, but he had to guess that exhuming and relocating one-hundred-year-old, and older, bodies to a new location would likely be a big deal and an expensive one as well. He could almost visibly imagine their two hundred and fifty thousand dollars dwindling away to nothing. Plus he had no desire for Stephanie to even know the bodies had been there at one time. Relocated or not, that mere fact might not sit well with her.

  He also had no idea how many bodies might buried in the family plot. He knew of at least two, the young Livingston boys. But he did see several other stones, which meant the potential for additional bodies. He wouldn't know for certain until he returned to the plot for a closer, more thorough examination.

  Also, the more he thought about it, the more he realized the likelihood that absolutely no one but he was even aware the family plot was there. Surely, Washburn had known and perhaps that was why he named the property “Fallen Stones”. But he must not have ever explained that to the lawyer. Since Stephanie was the only relative ever contacted about the property and since, the graveyard was hidden from view at the back of the property in an uncared for overgrown clump of weeds, the idea of him being the only one who was aware of the site became even more plausible.

  If he simply removed each one of the headstones, however many there might be and destroyed them by smashing them into small pieces, he could easily dig a hole out along the back of the property and bury them. All he would need is a shovel and his five pound sledge hammer. He was certain there must be a wheelbarrow somewhere on the property if he chose to use that to save some time. Or he could even use the lawn tractor with its cart attached to help him with the job. And when he was done, no one would be the wiser. He could instruct the kids to stay away from the woods and high grassy area warning them of dangerous varmints and snakes. The grass would continue to grow wild and he could even use the site as a dumping ground for yard waste, thereby covering it with more layers of soil and debris. Yes, he especially liked that idea.

  However, he didn't really like the idea of keeping all of this a secret from Stephanie. He was certain if she had known she would agree with his course of action. Up until this point in their marriage, they never lied or kept secrets from each other. But he truly felt he needed to keep this from her. He supposed he just didn't want her to have to deal with such a problem. She had so much on her mind already and the thought of being the messenger of yet another bit of stressful news was something he simply didn't want to do.

  The house and the land were incredible, and he desperately wanted his family to be able to start their new life enjoying the property as soon as possible. The last thing any of them needed was to look out from a relaxing chaise lounge on their gorgeous patio or deck and know just a few hundred yards away, a century old family plot existed with unknown ancestors moldering away to nothing below the surface.

  Jason was now certain he had made the right decision. And if there actually were bodies buried under the headstones, then they could stay there and fester for another hundred or even thousand years. But the headstones and any other indication that a cemetery ever existed would be gone forever. Before moving day, before they spent a single night in the house, all traces of the Livingston family plot would vanish, and Jason would make sure of that.

  "Are you ok?" Stephanie asked as Jason approached them near the spa building. "You look upset."

  Jason replied as casually as he possibly could, "Uh...yeah...I'm fine... It's just...you know me...I am not used to dealing with dead stuff...and nature...you know?"

  She responded, "Yes. I know how you are about stuff like that." Then she gave an involuntary shudder. "Me too, I suppose." She would not have liked to even be standing on the same grassy area as the dead thing.

  Then Sammy raised his hand and pointed back to toward the place where Jason had found the graves and stunned Jason by asking "Daddy...see...boys?"

  Jason stood staring at his son uncomprehending. "Boys?" He thought to himself, Sammy had been saying 'boys' back near the woods. That was the mysterious b-word." He had been smiling and saying 'boys' over and over again. Jason wondered what boys Sammy was talking about; there were no boys back there. Then Jason realized with gut wrenching horror that there actually had been two boys back there besides Sammy and Jeremy, but those boys were buried deep in the earth and had been moldering to dust for almost one hundred years. Beads of sweat began to form on the back of Jason's neck and trickle down his back.

  Stephanie said, "I have no idea what he is talking about. He's been smiling and talking about boys since we left that clearing. The only thing I can think of is being back there must have reminded him of some boys he must have seen somewhere, some other time, maybe at the playground. I really don't know."

  But Jason thought he knew exactly what Sammy was talking about but could only hope to God he was mistaken. He understood how perceptive and sensitive Sammy was. Surly the boy couldn't have seen what Jason feared he had seen. Surely, he couldn't have seen those two boys, the long-dead Livingston boys.

  The instant he had the thought, Jason realized just how ridiculous it sounded. He was obviously exhausted from their long and busy day and was on edge as well because of his discovery of the cemetery. His mind must be playing tricks on him, getting him to think impossible thoughts and believe they could actually be real. No. Sammy had not seen any long-dead boys. In fact, he had seen nothing. He was simply a happy little boy with a very active imagination. Jason knew the boy fantasized things all the time; things that never made sense to anyone but him. Jason thought back to the day Sammy was looking into space and saying "doggie". There was no dog present, it was all his imagination, but to Sammy it was as real as if the dog had actually been there.

  Sammy looked a bit confused. He didn't know what was wrong with everybody. Why didn't his mommy or daddy or Germie or Dindy say "Hello" to his new friends? Why didn't they ask the little boys to come and play? His mommy always was nice to little boys and girls; his daddy was too. But they didn't say anything to the new little boys. Sammy wanted the boys to come down from the grass place where Daddy was to play, but they wouldn't. They just stood there looking at him smiling at him. So, Sammy smiled back. Sammy didn't know the boys, but he liked the boys.
He tried to call to them, but he didn't know their names. He kept saying "boys, boys, boys" but no one could hear him, and the boys didn't come down to play. They just stood looking at him and smiling.

  At first, they scared Sammy like that lady in the big glass in the house because they looked like they might be sad and looked a little sick. Their faces were very white, their lips blue and their eyes had dark rings around them. But then they smiled, and Sammy smiled back and he felt much better. Sammy knew good things and Sammy knew bad things. The boys seemed to be good and nice. That lady in the big glass was not nice.

  Sammy looked back to see if the boys were still in the grass, but they were gone. He felt bad about not being able to play with the boys. Maybe some other time they would come back and play with Sammy.

  Stephanie noticed Jason holding his right hand away from his body. "What's wrong with your hand? You seem to be holding it out weirdly. Did you get hurt?"

  "No," Jason said feeling a bit weak and perplexed, "I...um...lost my footing back there and well...I slipped and...had to catch myself with my right hand... I figured with that dead deer and all the bugs and stuff, I had better keep it far away until I get a chance to wash it off." He wisely chose to spare her the details of how his fingers sunk down deep into the creature's cold rotting insect-infested entrails. Stephanie looked carefully at her husband and could see he was being bothered by more than finding the dead dear remains. But she chose to give him his space and not pursue the matter; at least not for today.

  Armstrong interjected, "Inside the spa, near the tub is a cabinet with all sorts of cleaning supplies and towels. In fact, I believe I saw an unused bar of soap on a stand near the tub when we were inside." The lawyer knew for a fact there was a bar of soap on a stand because he had given specific instructions to have it put there. He also knew there was a small dark wooden cabinet about thirty inches high with a twelve-inch square top. A fresh, unused bar of soap sat in a ceramic dish atop the cabinet within reach from the tub, and behind it was a small vase filled with several wild flowers. The cabinet had a dowel-rod attached to the side from which hung a hand towel monogrammed with the letter "W". It originally stood for Washburn, but could just as easily now stand for Wright. He simply chose to feign ignorance to not appear as manipulative as he actually was being.