A Summer with the Dead Page 22

  Maya heard the porch railing splinter behind her, the wood ripping away. The porch floor buckled, one plank after the other like keys on a piano. Maya jumped away from the truck, toward the rhubarb garden, landing waist deep in steaming, green mud. She heard Elly and Coty laughing as the truck continued the length of the porch, tearing away the posts and collapsing the roof. The truck swerved back to the driveway and continued down into the trees. All around Maya in the mud were arms and legs and feet and hands. A skull bobbed to the surface and sank again, its jaws chewing green mud.

  Maya sat up in bed, drenched in sweat, her breath was ragged.

  The nightmares are back.

  “I should take a pill,” she whispered, and then added, “No. No pills.” The thought of drugged sleep was more terrifying than her fear of nightmares. She wanted to be alert, to awaken easily. She needed to hear if her bedroom doorknob turned. She needed to hear footsteps in the hall, or the sound of whispers in the night—the sound of something crawling across the floor toward her bed.

  The closet light threw a golden wedge into her room, until a shadow blocked the light. It was the shadow of a man with half his head blown away. He pushed the closet door all the way open and fixed his dry eyes on Maya.

  Maya sat up in bed with a painful gasp. Before, she had only dreamed she was awake, but this time she turned on her bedside lamp and slid her bare feet to the cool floor. Moments passed while she waited for her heart to calm.

  “Danny?” she whispered. “Are you there?”

  Danny said nothing. He had not shown himself for two weeks. Was he staying away, or was someone keeping him away?

  It’s Angel. It’s Angel, keeping Danny away.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FIVE

  COTY KNOCKED ON THE kitchen door before sticking his head inside. “We … we need to talk,” he said.

  “I’ll let Elly know we’re taking a short walk.”

  “I’ll wait outside,” Coty said. His boots sounded even and determined on the wood porch.

  Maya found Elly in the skylight room, staring out through the little window between the bookshelves.

  “Coty and I are going for a walk, Elly. You need me to do anything first?”

  “No, I’m fine, honey. Enjoy the walk,” Elly said. “He’s not drunk again is he?”

  “Seems sober as a judge.” Maya slipped a denim shirt over her tank top and joined Coty on the driveway. “Which direction?” she asked.

  “Uphill,” Coty said. He opened the wide gate at the end of the driveway and together they climbed the back pasture. Maya glanced behind the shed as they passed. Coty’s charcoal gray Dodge truck was parked beneath the cedar shake roof.

  “Are we going inside the barn?”

  “No. I just want to get away from the house.” Fifty yards from the barn, Coty halted. “I’ve got a confession, okay? That day at the quarry, when I grabbed you and scared you … and later I apologized and told you I didn’t mean to scare you … that was a lie. I meant to scare you. I wanted to scare the hell out of you. Scare you back into your car and away from this place. I wanted to snoop around with no one but a crazy old lady to deal with …” Coty sighed. “Sorry. I mean a confused old lady to deal with. She assumed I was her friend’s nephew and that mistake gave me free reign to snoop and to search every building and every square inch of this property, which I’ve almost done. Elly’s neighbor, Parker Haynes recognized Danny’s photo when I showed it to him. He told me he saw Danny hitchhiking along the road. He said he saw a blond man in a delivery truck pick Danny up about a quarter mile from Elly’s mailbox. Mr. Haynes said the truck entered Elly’s driveway, so I know Danny made it to her place before he disappeared. That’s why I came here. That’s why I’m still here. Well, that’s part of the reason I’m still here.”

  “Okay. And what’s the other reason?”

  “You. I knew when we met in Elly’s kitchen that first day, you’d be trouble.”

  “Me? Why am I trouble?”

  “Because I like you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  “I like you too, Coty … I mean Wayne.”

  “Let me finish, Maya. I didn’t realize how much I liked you until I saw you with that guy at the bakery. Seeing you there with him was like getting gut-kicked by a horse. That’s why I was gone for two days and needed a ride home from the bar. But I should’ve known better. Alcohol never fixes anything … it only adds another problem … two if you count the hangover. So I owe you a double apology. It seems I’m a real screw-up when I’m around you.”

  “But, I already explained to you what Hal Neil and I talked about,” Maya said. “The history of Graceville, the old fort, the hospital and the cemetery? Hal is researching the property lines for Elly’s farm and the cemetery—they seem to overlap. Hal said he’ll …”

  “I know, I know. You don’t need to repeat everything the two of you talked about. I’m not going to confront Mr. Neil. I don’t plan to knock his teeth out or anything”

  “I hope not!” Maya kicked a clump of grass with the toe of her tennis shoe. “You know, you said Dr. Framish flirted with me at the hospital, and the other night you accused me of flirting with Hal Neil. Do you have a jealousy problem?”

  “Never did until now.”

  “You have nothing to be jealous about. I can’t stand my ex … and I don’t care for Dr.

  Framish. Hal Neill is barely an acquaintance. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Coty said. “Did you mean what you said about my kiss being good?”

  Maya smiled. “Considering the condition you were in.”

  “You mean, drunk on my ass?”

  “Yeah. Do you remember throwing up?”

  “ … I threw up? Before or after I kissed you?”

  “After.”

  Coty closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. “Hell. How about we try it again, stone cold sober and with teeth brushed?”

  Maya smiled and wrapped her arms around him. He held her close, lifting her off the ground. His lips tasted like apples. He smelled like coffee and like the wind from across the grassy field. Maya’s neck and ears tingled. The sensation traveled from the nape of her neck to her toes and back. He released her and her cheeks burned.

  “Not bad. Not bad at all,” she said.

  “Got a surprise for you,” Coty said. “Look behind you.”

  Maya turned. Along the fence, near the shadow of the trees, three llamas grazed on Elly’s land.

  “Should we tell Elly?” Maya asked.

  “Oh, hell no … because she’d tell Harlan and who knows what he’d do. Let’s keep this to ourselves.”

  Laughing, they headed back down the hill toward Elly’s farmhouse.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-SIX

  “I’VE ALWAYS ENJOYED A walk to the mailbox,” Elly said. “It’s even better when you find mail there.” She sounded happy. Her cheeks were pink. She smiled as she dropped envelopes on the kitchen table. “There’s something there for you, Maya.”

  Maya sifted through the mail until she found a manila envelope with her name on the label. She opened it. “Oh,” she said. “Finally. It’s your medical records from Dr. Framish. I wonder why he addressed it to me.”

  “Probably because he thinks I’m scatterbrained,” Elly said. “I told him about Harlan coming to see me at the hospital. That was a mistake. You should’ve seen his expression.”

  Maya chuckled. “Doctors and scientists—if it can’t be proven mathematically, it can’t be real, right?”

  “You and I are alike.” Elly poured boiling water into her tea mug.

  Maya studied the back of Elly’s head. No we’re not. At least, I hope not.

  “So, what’s the verdict? Does Dr. Framish think I should be locked up?”

  “Just a second,” Maya said. “I’m reading the medical part right now. According to this, you’re quite healthy. Normal blood pressure, no cholesterol problems, no signs of cancer, kidney function is excelle
nt … there is nothing checked in the abnormal column at all. My goodness, that was your first mammogram Elly?”

  “And my last. They’re not meant to be pancakes, even if they’re small.”

  “Your colonoscopy report is excellent. Not a single issue there.”

  “I don’t remember much about that,” Elly said. “They gave me something they said would help me relax, and I slept right through it.”

  “Down here in the comments, Dr. Framish says your physical strength is equivalent to an active woman in her fifties. That’s great, huh? He does recommend that you visit a psychologist, about things that worry you. He recommends a Dr. Divan. That’s funny, isn’t it?”

  “Why?”

  “Because most psychologists have sofas or divans so their patients can recline, and relax.”

  “I don’t need a psychologist. I have you to talk to, Maya. I don’t need some stranger digging into my private thoughts.”

  “There are counselors at retirement homes, if you decide to talk to one of them. Dr. Conover has been good for me,” Maya said. “And whatever you tell them remains confidential.”

  “You’re not going to tell Dr. Conover the things I’ve told you, are you Maya?”

  “Nope. I won’t say a word to her about any of it. It’s none of her business and it has nothing to do with me, so she doesn’t need to know.”

  “After I’m gone, I don’t care, of course,” Elly said. “After I’m gone, you can tell anybody anything you want. Then, they can dig me up and hang me.”

  Maya said, “Let’s not talk about that. It makes me sad.”

  “All right, baby girl.” Elly lifted a business envelope from the pile of mail. “This one is from my lawyer.” She ripped open the envelope and removed two smaller envelopes. “This copy is for you, Maya. Keep it in a safe place but please don’t open it until I’m gone. It lists my final wishes, how to take care of … everything.”

  The envelope was pale blue, letter-size, with her full name, Maya Caroline Pederson (Hammond) on the front. In the upper left corner was the lawyer’s name and address.

  “I’ll keep it in the back pocket of my medical journal,” Maya said.

  “Maya, have you seen that boy upstairs again? That green boy?”

  “Not in a couple weeks. Why?”

  “If you do see him again, tell him … tell him I’m sorry.”

  “It’s almost noon. You could tell him yourself. He usually shows up around noon.”

  Elly shook her head and frowned. “No.”

  The phone rang and Maya grabbed the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Mom died.”

  Maya was speechless for a moment. “Benson? Is that you?”

  “Yes, who else would it be?”

  “Your mother died?”

  “You understand what that means, don’t you?” Benson said.

  Maya nodded at her reflection in the kitchen window. Yes. It means you no longer have someone to bail you out when you get yourself into deep shit. “Not sure you and I are thinking along the same lines, Benson. Sorry about you mother. Tell me what you think her death means, because I have no idea.”

  “Everything is mine now. The house, the cars, the beach condo in Hawaii, the savings account, the investments. It’s all mine, and all I have to do is sign this document from your lawyer, and you’re out of the picture. I don’t have to share any of it with you, Maya.”

  “Knock yourself out, Bens.”

  “Two million in cash can stretch a long ways.”

  “The way you gamble, it’ll be gone in a year,” Maya said.

  “I’m not gambling anymore.”

  “I have to hang up, Bens. You take care now.” Maya slammed the receiver down. She paced the kitchen several times and then opened the back door and stepped outside. She took several deep breaths of cool air. “What did I ever see in him?”

  “I thought you handled that well, Maya.”

  “No. I shouldn’t have even talked to him. I should have hung up as soon as I recognized his voice. He has a way of twisting my guts into knots.”

  “Let’s go for a drive,” Elly said. “There’s something I want to show you and it’ll take your mind off Benson. It isn’t far.”

  It was a hazy, mid-July afternoon. The two of them walked to the end of the bunkhouse and climbed into the Edge. Maya drove down the driveway and halted at the edge of the blacktop. “Which way?”

  “Left, and then left again after a quarter mile.” Elly pointed to the road sign. “I wonder how long that sign will stay up this time. The city was putting it in when I walked out to get the mail.”

  The sign read, Cemetery Road. The mound of dirt around its base looked like a fresh, round grave. Maya followed a narrow strip of blacktop up over a hill and coasted down the other side, under overhanging branches. Sunlight flickered through the leaves and the windshield. She lowered her visor, blocking the glare.

  “Why are we going to the cemetery,” she asked.

  “I decided I should tell you about it. Years ago the farm used to be the cemetery,” Elly said. “The city relocated all the graves clear out here, farther away from the stream. Farther away from town.”

  “It didn’t bother you, to buy property that used to be a cemetery?”

  “Nah. and Harlan said it was perfect for us anyway. Harlan said any graves or bodies found on our property could be explained away if the place used to be a cemetery. Also, people who can’t afford a funeral or burial plot have been known to sneak into cemeteries late and night and bury their family members in secret. Did you know that?”

  “I’ve never heard that before.”

  “Harlan caught somebody doing that once. The city was done relocating the old graves, but some people came in the middle of the night and put their grandmother in a grave that hadn’t been filled in yet. They were shoveling dirt over her when Harlan caught ‘em. Scared the bejeebers out of them.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”

  “Harlan told them to get Grandma up and out of there, and to take her to the new cemetery because he wanted to plant three acres of corn there, not Grandma.” Elly giggled. “But if any bodies had been found on our farm, we could’ve claimed that’s how they got there.”

  “I doubt the authorities would believe one hundred fifty people snuck into an old cemetery to avoid burial costs.”

  “Ah, well, the authorities would’ve never found all the bodies,” Elly said. “Felix used to send bags of lime with the deliveries.”

  Maya parked in one of the vacant parking spots shaded by giant maple trees. A three-foot-high rock wall with an ornate iron gate surrounded the twenty-acre cemetery. “It’s pretty here,” she said.

  “And so nice and level. I’ve wondered why our hillside was ever considered for a burial ground in the first place. It slopes right down to the stream.”

  “I heard the hilltop was originally a Native American burial site,” Maya said.

  “Yeah, those old graves were up near where the old barn is. It was the settlers and the soldiers from the fort who started burying people further down the hillside.”

  “And the house, before you and Uncle Harlan added on … it was a mortuary.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I talked to a history writer at the book store, that day I drove you into town to see your lawyer. The writer knows a lot about Graceville.”

  “Does that bother you, Maya? Knowing that about the house?”

  “No. It doesn’t worry me at all … their spirits don’t prowl the house and startle me in the middle of the night. They don’t call to me, or whisper in my ear.”

  “Like the green boy?”

  “Like the green boy.”

  “What does he say to you, Maya?”

  “He says, ‘Help me. Don’t leave me here.’ And one night he led me downstairs into the dining room. I’ve never been certain if that really happened or if it was a bad dream.”

  “What about the dining room?”

  “The
re were sheets of plastic hanging like curtains all around,” Maya said.

  “And you saw Angel on the dining room table?” Elly’s voice sounded flat.

  “Parts of him.”

  “What else did you see?”

  “I saw Harlan, packing those parts into a freezer in the kitchen. Everything looked dim and hazy, the way old photographs look, but Harlan was dressed in a checkered shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had knives, a saw and a clever on the table. He put Angel’s head on your antique rose serving platter, and he set the platter on the corner of the buffet.”

  “Guess I need to tell you the details regarding that,” Elly said. “You need to know, but let’s wait until when we’re done for the day. I want to gather my memories together first.”

  For dinner, Elly heated vegetable soup and they took kitchen chairs, bowls, napkins and a box of crackers to the back porch and ate dinner outside. They didn’t talk except to agree it was a pleasant evening in the shade of the tall evergreen trees. Afterward they washed and dried the dishes, and then they returned to the porch.

  “That wasn’t Harlan. That was me hacking up Angel on the dining room table. I wore Harlan’s clothes that night. They already had permanent stains on them anyway, and besides, Harlan was gone, remember? To Boise.”

  “What did you do about Bossy and Morris?” Maya asked.