Easter Sunday (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 7)

by Thomas Hollyday

  “Why didn’t the people in town agree?”

  “I don’t know, Bobby. He was a very wise man and knew a lot about things besides gardens.”

  “As much as the General?”

  “In his own way, yes, he did,” she said. She was quiet, and then changed the subject. “You have lots of presents already waiting for you at home.”

  “I know. I saw the pile in your bedroom.”

  She laughed. “You’re a little spy, Bobby.”

  “Are Pete and Chief Sammy up there too?”

  “Sure. Mister Allingham is here, too. He has a present for your birthday.”

  “I don’t want to talk to him.”

  Melissa moved her face back slightly from the microphone as if she didn’t know what to reply. Bobby went on, “I want to talk to Daddy. Can Daddy come to my party this year?”

  “I’ll ask him.” Melissa gave the microphone to Charlie and walked over to the edge of the mound where Hank was helping with the flashlight.

  “He wants to talk to you,” she said to Hank.

  Hank helped to pass the flashlight and its clip along the wire. It reached Cathy and she and Richard started it going into the hole.

  “Let it drop along the other wire,” said Charlie.

  “It’s moving down,” said Cathy. “I can feel it sinking.”

  Will Allingham picked up the microphone. “Bobby, it’s Mister Allingham.”

  Pete said to Hank, “Will’s pretty formal with the kid, isn’t he?”

  “He’s the schoolmaster.”

  “He’s going to be Bobby’s stepfather?”

  “He tries, I guess,” said Hank.

  Will asked, “How are you doing, Bobby?”

  “All right, sir.”

  “Listen to me, Bobby. Do you remember when we talked about my aunt, Zinnie Allingham, at school?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, you know how we all been searching for that airplane of hers.”

  “Yessir. This might be her wrecked fighter plane.”

  “I know.” Will stared at the ground as he clutched the microphone tightly. “You said there were boots and bones in there with you. Can you tell me more about them?”

  “It’s kinda scary.”

  “Well, feel around you there and if you come up with anything, let me know. It might help to identify the airplane.”

  “Do I get the reward?”

  “If you have found my aunt’s airplane, then you get the reward.”

  “Course I want to share it with Cathy and Richard. They helped, too.”

  “All right.”

  “One thing I found,” said Bobby.

  “What is that?”

  “I was going to surprise Mommy with it when I get out of here.”

  “What is it, son?” asked Will.

  “It feels like a ring.”

  “Where did you find it?” Will asked, his voice faster in pace.

  “It was on the platform just as I climbed up on it. Lots of little bones near it. It was in the pile of those bones.”

  “My aunt had a ring on her finger when she was lost. Tell me about it.” Will was trembling with excitement. Hank heard it in the man’s voice.

  “Sure, Mister Allingham. I put the ring in my pocket. Let me pull it out.”

  Hank moved back to the radio. He stood next to Melissa and touched Will on the shoulder. Will turned and saw Melissa and Hank together. “Just asking him a little bit about the place he is in,” said Will, pulling back.

  “You leave him alone,” said Hank.

  Melissa grabbed at Hank’s arm. Hank immediately got her message he should not start a fight. She was afraid her child would hear the argument over the microphone still tightly clenched in Will’s fist.

  The child’s voice crackled on the speaker. “Here it is. Let me try to feel it.” Then silence. “Wait a minute, Sir.”

  “What happened?” asked Will.

  Hank’s hand tightened on Will’s shoulder.

  “I dropped it. It’s in the water at my feet.”

  “Can you reach it?” asked Will, his voice rising.

  Hank whispered, “Leave him alone, Will. I’m warning you.”

  Bobby called up, “No, I can’t find it. The water is too deep.”

  The child began to whimper. “Wait a minute, Mister Allingham. Let me try again. I really want the reward. I just have trouble keeping my balance on this old piece of metal. Maybe it has fallen below to where the muskrats have their nest. They are making more noises now.”

  “You can do it, boy. It’s important,” persisted Will, his eyes wide in anticipation.

  Melissa’s voice was high. “It’s not important!”

  The Captain forcibly took the microphone. “Bobby,” he said, “Forget about that ring. We’re sending down a flashlight. You should be able to see the light pretty soon. You can use the light to scare away the animals.”

  Bobby whimpered. “I also found a necklace hanging in front of me. When I touched it, the jewels fell into to the water. Part of it felt like a crucifix. I’m sorry.”

  Will moved to the side, staring at the microphone, his face showing astonishment, his eyes still intent. “She took an ivory rosary with her when she flew in those airplanes.”

  “It might be her rosary and it might not be,” said Hank.

  “I don’t see the light yet,” said Bobby. “Wait a minute. I see a glow to my right.”

  They waited at the edge of the mound in the rain and wind gusts, listening for Bobby’s next words. The water from outside the sandbags had continued to leak and was covering Hank’s shoes up to his ankles.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “It’s like weak candle light,” said Bobby. “I think the animals are playing with the light because it’s moving back and forth sending shadows all around me.”

  Bobby’s voice grew stronger. The light seemed to have given him courage. “The flashlight is near me behind some metal and I can’t reach it. The muskrats are quiet. They usually do a lot of scratching so I know they are worried about it. They are smart animals though and it may not be long before they will break it, maybe chew the wire.”

  “Tell us what you see around you,” said the Captain.

  “I’m inside an airplane all right. Over top of me, way up too far for me to reach is the top of the cockpit. Outside to my left is earth packed tight against the glass but to the right I see a space where the light is coming from. Glass or plastic because of the way it reflects the light. It has metal running along the glass, like a greenhouse.”

  “That’s the canopy all right, one of the older P47 models, what they called the razorbacks,” grinned the Captain to Hank, away from the microphone. Then, into the mike, “Keep going, Bobby. You’re doing fine.”

  The Captain studied his manual. He traced a schematic with his finger as he spoke. “Bobby must have entered the fuselage from near the tail on the left side. We must have sent the light and mike down on the airplane’s front right, her starboard side, up along the engine and canopy. That would be right here,” he pointed to a top view of a P47. The Captain spoke into the mike, “What’s in front of you?”

  “It’s definitely the instrument panel. Of course, it’s all chewed up and there’s instruments hanging out on their wires. I see the turn and bank indicator. It’s glowing a little in the light. I’ll stay away from it, like you said. The control stick is right in front of me.”

  Static began on the loudspeakers.

  “How fast is the water coming in, Bobby?”

  “It must be my aunt’s plane,” said Will, interrupting.

  “We’re all aware what you’re interested in, Will,” Hank said.

  Bobby went on, “I can’t say for sure. Now that I have some light, I’ll watch the height of the water against the wall. I’m on the edge of a metal seat. Bones of a skeleton are on my right side stretched up against the canopy. It seems to be a person. The person’s flying suit is holding together most of the skeleton except the
skull which must have fallen into the water. I see a stain on the cloth of the suit.”

  “Ask him if it’s a man or woman,” said Will.

  The Captain ignored him.

  Bobby went on, “Seems like the person was trying to get out. I see scraping marks on the canopy top. The pilot must have got caught down here and couldn’t get out. Maybe wounded.” More static came through, louder.

  “Am I going to get caught down here, too?” Hank could hear sobs. He knew Bobby was losing what little confidence he had.

  “I got a cut on my knee and the blood has dried,” Bobby said. “That must have been what was attracting the muskrats. I see their eyes all around me in the corners.”

  “Bobby, I know it’s hard for you, real hard, but you have to wait a little longer.”

  The Captain clicked off the microphone.

  Hank said, “I still think we should just go for him, go down directly to him.”

  “We’ve been over this,” said the Captain. “The top of the mound would collapse on him. With all that soil coming down on him, he wouldn’t have a chance. Besides, he’s already said the plane was moving. If we cause any more pressure, especially by digging on top of it, the plane might go on into the muck and we’ll never get him.”

  “The Captain’s right,” said Sammy. “Getting a light down there is one thing, but digging a hole might shift the wreck. That wreck, it’s like a teeter-totter, barely balanced. We’re better doing what we’re doing.”

  Pete said, “When we get to the tail, and I don’t know how much longer that will be, Captain Steele, but I’m sure it will be soon, then maybe we can secure it with lines so the plane won’t slip any more.”

  “Good,” said the Captain. “Once we have a hold on it then we can figure what to do. Could be we’re close enough to just come quick along the left side of the fuselage to get to him”

  “While we’re doing that, we’ve got to keep Bobby from losing hope,” said Hank.

  “I wish I could touch him; comfort him,” said Melissa.

  The Captain turned on the microphone and spoke to Bobby. “Richard’s here to talk to you.”

  “Sure,” Bobby said.

  Richard had been Bobby’s best friend for more than a year. Richard’s father was brought to River Sunday by the conglomerate that bought the Chesapeake Hotel. Most people assumed he, being a black man, had been sent to stop the workers, also mostly black, from forming a union and putting the hotel out of business with higher costs. The outcome of his mission was not yet known. Meanwhile, Richard was one of the most popular kids at the Allingham School. Besides his sense of humor and his stories about living in the city, he was the school expert on the latest computer games.

  Richard clambered down from the top of the mound where he had been helping Cathy. He took the microphone, held it in front of his face, and said, “Hey, man.”

  “Richard.”

  “You got to hang on, Bobby. You and me, we been in this kind of fix before, you remember?”

  “At your father’s hotel?”

  “Smelly shoes,” said Richard. They had been in an empty room when a man and woman entered. They hid under the bed while the adults were above them.

  “Her’s were worse,” said Bobby.

  The laughter sounded like choking on the loudspeakers.

  “Did you tell your Dad?” asked Bobby.

  “No,” said Richard. “Forever. He would have taken away my computer forever.”

  “Richard, tell my dad to hurry up. The light keeps going out.”

  Richard said, “I got the new cheat codes.”

  “Did you get through the magic wall?”

  “They work. I can’t wait to show you.”

  “What happens?”

  “You see this valley and you have to cross it in a balloon.”

  At the other end of the mound, Hank heard Sammy stop the tractor. The silence made the swamp seem almost at peace. A tall woman running a high-sided white outboard, its rumble getting louder, was working in close to shore.

  Pete said, “Birdey Pond.”

  “She doesn’t like Sammy,” said Hank. Pond and her associates had put negative advertisements in Duke’s newspaper about Sammy’s service station. The building and pumps had been located on the same corner in River Sunday since automobiles were invented and his grandfather had put in gasoline tanks to service them. The tanks bothered her and the others; they claimed leakage was fouling the town water supply. No end of tests by Sammy had satisfied her and nothing short of taking down the station and pulling the tanks out of the ground, would, as Sammy told Hank, ever satisfy her.

  Rain bent the sides of her plastic rain hat. In the trench, the firemen who had been digging stopped, almost at attention. Sammy leaned over his steering wheel, silently staring at the boat and its driver

  “You never can figure what that woman is thinking,” said Pete.

  The boat was close to shore and Hank could see the animals riding. Several raccoons were perched on the forward deck like point scouts and in the stern there were a number of muskrats. Their small heads, bobbing beside the white fiberglass of the boat resembled a miniature team of commandoes, ready to storm the mound. Yet he knew these were the bedraggled survivors of the high water, water that had probably already washed out several dens of these creatures and likely killed their babies.

  Bob Johnny carried his shovel as he walked to the edge of the water and stood on the sandbag wall. He was not more than twenty feet from the boat as Missus Pond cruised by, still not speaking, just staring at the rescue workers.

  Bob Johnny lifted his right arm and waved. She waved back, then turned her eyes ahead and sped off, finished what seemed to be her recon of the rescue status. In a few moments she was out of sight in the rain and darkness.

  Richard motioned to Hank to take the microphone.

  “He wants to talk to me,” Hank said to Melissa. She was sitting on a canvas stool that Charlie had rigged for her and she moved her head upward to see him. Her eyes showed him some of the respect, the love they had for each other many years ago, before he went to war, before their teamwork failed.

  “Bobby loves you,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “I guess he’s needed both of us for a long time.”

  He held the mike in both of his hands for a moment.

  “You’re cold,” he said to her.

  She pulled back and said, “I’ll be all right.”

  He shook as Melissa had when she knew her time had come to speak to the boy. He lifted the microphone and, forcing himself to speak above a whisper, as if fearing the noise would further harm his son, said slowly and carefully, “Bobby, it’s Daddy.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hank said. “I’d take your place if I could.”

  “Dad, no way. You couldn’t stand it down here.”

  “I just don’t like to think of you there.”

  “I bet I know more about claustrophobia than you do,” said Bobby. “Richard and I researched it on his computer.”

  Hank smiled, remembering his son was smarter than he was, a better student, talent Bobby inherited from his grandfather. “What did you guys find out?”

  “The doctors would put you down here like I am. They say if they flood you with being closed in, they can cure you.”

  “Flood?” said Hank, thinking of water.

  “The shrinks call it flooding. You’d be really messed up.”

  “Flooding,” Hank repeated.

  Bobby said, “I’m sorry I ran out of the store.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “You know why I came here, Dad?”

  “I would have told you nothing was worth climbing around in a cave in this kind of weather.”

  “I didn’t count on the accident.”

  “We can talk about it later,” Hank replied.

  Bobby went on, “I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble.” He paused then said, “Daddy, if I get out of here, will you still ge
t me the signature of Harold Baines?”

  “Next time he comes to town,” Hank smiled. Baines was a baseball hero, a current one still in the Big Leagues, whose family lived near River Sunday.

  “So you forgive me?”

  “Sure.”

  “I miss Grandfather watching my games,” said Bobby. “Did he go to your games?”

  “Yes.”

  “He was never very good,” said Bobby

  “No, baseball wasn’t my father’s sport.”

  Bobby said, “I like your daffodils more than ever. I think I like them better than Grandfather’s trees. You didn’t come with us when we planted the last tree at Pete’s.”

  For years Hank’s father had planted trees everywhere in River Sunday. Since Hank had been a little boy, each year in the spring, he and his father would select a strong loblolly seedling, go out to Pete’s farm, and plant it.

  “No, I didn’t.” Hank took a chance. If the boy wanted to talk about his grandfather, he’d go along. “Tell me about it.”

  “Grandfather brought the tree in the back of the truck. We stopped at the general store along the road near the farm. He bought me a Coke and he got a Nehi soda like he always did. We drove over to the edge of the field behind Pete’s house where the trees were.”

  “That first one he planted is pretty tall,” said Hank.

  “He said that one was set in 1947 and there’s been one ever since.”

  “I wasn’t there that day for sure.”

  “He said you planted your first tree in the row when you were four.”

  “I only remember how big the shovel was,” said Hank.

  “I like how the trees are slanted from the first one down to the last in a diagonal line from tall to short.”

  “Yes.”

  “We should put in a new one. We haven’t planted any since he died.” Bobby paused and added, “No, I don’t think I want to do that.”

  Bobby continued, “Tell me about when he saved the firemen.”

  “I could tell that,” said Sammy, standing next to Hank. Another fireman had taken over running the tractor. Sammy had a long measuring tape. He was trying to figure out by measuring along the side of the mound how far Bobby was away from the trench digging.