Just South of Home

by Karen Strong

  Ellis wiped away his sweat mustache. “Just like old times, right, Sarah?”

  I walked farther down the row and picked out two ears of corn and put them in Janie’s basket. This wasn’t like old times. Even though it was wrong to break into Mrs. Greene’s house, we had done it to help someone. But nobody knew that. Abner still needed our help, and now we were out here picking corn as punishment instead of doing something.

  We gathered up a basketful of corn and delivered it to the back porch. Mrs. Greene got up and put a long sheet of plastic on the cement floor.

  “Dump that basket here,” she said. “I need you to shuck all this corn. When you’re done with that, you can move on to snapping and shelling the peas.” She pointed to two overflowing metal bins.

  “Can I use the bathroom?” Janie asked.

  Mrs. Greene frowned. “Don’t take too long, and you better be right back. Don’t try nothing slick, either.”

  Janie bowed her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Ellis and I sat on the floor on top of the plastic and started shucking the corn. I removed the silk worms, and Ellis broke the sheath of each ear with a hard snap.

  “She’s gonna work us until we ain’t got no sense left,” Ellis said.

  “It could be worse,” I replied.

  “Don’t jinx it,” Ellis said. “Day ain’t over yet.”

  Janie appeared on the back porch. She sighed as she sat in front of us.

  “You need to start shelling the peas,” I said.

  She pushed the metal bin across the concrete floor with her feet. “Don’t worry. We’re going to be okay.”

  “Don’t feel like it,” Ellis grumbled. “If I get heat stroke and die today, I’m gonna put a curse on both of you.”

  “Don’t talk about curses,” I snipped.

  As soon as we were done, Mrs. Greene gave us our next chore of digging and clearing out old plants and preparing rows for okra, bell peppers, and cucumbers. The sun beat down on my shoulders, and when I rubbed my eyes, I saw black spots. The heat was relentless, and with no breeze, my T-shirt was soaked with sweat. Mrs. Greene was cramming a whole summer list of chores into one day.

  “Take them shirts off and put your street clothes back on,” Mrs. Greene said when we were finished. “I can’t let you sit at my table looking a hot mess.”

  We took turns in the hall bathroom to freshen up before we sat at the kitchen table. Ellis stared at a wrapped iced Bundt cake. I hoped he had the sense not to ask for a slice. Without a doubt, I knew that cake wasn’t meant for us. We wouldn’t be having any of our grandma’s cakes anytime soon.

  I grabbed the pitcher on the table and poured a glass; the liquid coated my tongue with the taste of extra-bitter leaves, and I almost spit it back up. “This is unsweet tea.”

  Mrs. Greene narrowed her eyes at me. “Not wasting my sugar on ungrateful, meddling children.”

  I knew better than to argue and stayed quiet. I was about to take another sip—I was that thirsty—when I heard a car in the driveway. Mrs. Greene got up from the table and went out on the front porch.

  Janie smiled at us. “We got company.”

  We sneaked through the parlor and stood behind the glass front door to see who was coming to visit. A long black car was in the driveway. The windows were tinted dark, but Mr. Coolidge was already walking around to the passenger side. When he opened the door, his fiancée stepped out of the car.

  Mrs. Whitney took his hand, and they stopped at the bottom of the steps.

  Mrs. Greene stood her ground on the porch with her arms crossed, a scowl on her face.

  “Why are you here at my house?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Change of Heart

  Mr. Coolidge looked ready to attend a funeral, with his dark suit and hat, but I guessed since he was a mortician, he needed to be ready at all times. Mrs. Whitney was in a different long white dress, and she wore her usual three necklaces. Janie and Ellis came up behind me and peered out onto the porch.

  “I told you we would be okay,” Janie said.

  I turned to her. “You knew they were coming?”

  “I saved the number to the Train Depot on my phone, so I called her when I went to the bathroom earlier.” She pulled her phone out from her shorts pocket.

  I widened my eyes. “Did you take your phone back from Mama’s drawer?”

  Ellis shook his head. “You can’t value your life.”

  Janie shrugged. “We need to help Abner. Not be farmhands all summer.”

  I smiled at my cousin as we turned and looked back at the drama unfolding outside. Mrs. Whitney stood at the bottom of the steps. She touched the large black stone of her longest necklace before she spoke.

  “We need to talk, Lena,” she said.

  “Do we?” Mrs. Greene put her hands on her hips. Even in faded overalls, she carried herself as if she was wearing an evening gown. “I don’t appreciate you coming to my house uninvited.”

  “But I was invited. Your granddaughter called me,” Mrs. Whitney replied. “She said you were ready to talk.”

  Mrs. Greene turned and saw us at the front door. “I can guess which one did that.”

  Mr. Coolidge took off his hat and grappled with it in his hands. “Maybe we should go inside?”

  Mrs. Greene laughed. “Now, Sylvester, you should know better than that. Nobody comes into my house unless I say so.”

  Mrs. Whitney shook her head. “Still stubborn as ever.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Mrs. Greene said. “Why are you at my house?”

  “Lena, the children know,” Mrs. Whitney said.

  “Know what?”

  “They know about Abner.”

  Mrs. Greene’s hands fell off her hips and lay limp at her sides. At first she looked confused, but then her face flushed pink, and she balled her hands up into fists. “How did they find out? Did you tell them?” Her voice came out in angry waves.

  “I didn’t tell them anything,” Mrs. Whitney said. “They saw the boy at Creek Church, and they came to me with questions.”

  Mrs. Greene turned back around and glared at us. “What did I tell you about going down there to that place?”

  Ellis cowered behind me. Janie clasped my hand and squeezed it tight.

  “Not too many folks have seen that boy,” Mrs. Whitney said. “But these children saw him.”

  “Abner is long dead,” Mrs. Greene said. “He’s in the hands of the Lord.”

  “He’s not. And you know that. Do you want to leave him with spirits who will eat at his soul? Those evil spirits are tricking Abner,” Mrs. Whitney said. “They covet his light and keep him trapped. They will keep taking from him until there is nothing left. Then Abner will succumb to that same evil.”

  “You should know all about that,” Mrs. Greene huffed. “You don’t even respect the Lord. You come back to town with your witch roots and try to desecrate my grandchildren.”

  Janie opened the glass door and stepped out on the porch. She moved too fast for me to stop her. Ellis and I glanced at each other and quickly followed her.

  “Mrs. Whitney was only trying to help us,” Janie said. “When we saw the ghost boy in the picture and read Sophie’s diary—”

  Mrs. Greene grabbed Janie’s arm. “I knew you were the cause of all this trouble. Always meddling in grown folks business.”

  Janie tried to step away from her. “You’re hurting me.”

  “Wait—” I said.

  “Lena, let that child go,” Mr. Coolidge said.

  “This is my house!” she shouted. “You have no right telling me what to do. Spreading these lies to my grandchildren. Disrespecting my wishes. I told you I was done with all of it!”

  Mrs. Greene’s wrath was spewing from her mouth, her eyes hard and cold. She took Janie into the house. I knew exactly where she was going.

  I couldn’t let Janie take the brunt of Mrs. Greene’s punishment. I ran into the house after them. Mrs. Greene was in the kitchen and ha
d reached up to the refrigerator to get one of the switches. Her face was twisted with anger, the long thick switch firm in her grasp. Janie was on the floor crying. I stood over her in a protective stance.

  “Move, Sarah.” Mrs. Greene’s voice shook.

  “No,” I said.

  “Move!” Mrs. Greene shouted.

  “No!” I shouted back.

  My knees trembled in fear, but I stood my ground. “You need to listen to us! We’re not lying! We saw Abner with our own eyes!” I cried out.

  Mrs. Greene stood in complete shock in front of me. Mrs. Whitney and Mr. Coolidge had come into the house with Ellis. My brother’s chest heaved up and down, his face stunned with fear.

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mrs. Greene said.

  “It’s true,” I said. “We saw Abner. I didn’t want to believe it at first. Like you, I thought it didn’t make any logical sense and we should forget about it. But then he came to our house and tried to communicate with us. When we went back to Creek Church, he showed us what had happened. Evern . . . killed him. Abner showed us where he’s buried.”

  Mrs. Greene’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Abner needs our help. Please, help us. Please.” I took her trembling hand. “We’re the only ones that can do it. He’s been waiting all these years for someone to save him so he can rest in peace. So he can finally be with Sophie. With your mama.”

  Janie stood up and wiped her eyes, Ellis now beside her. Together they placed their hands on top of ours. Mrs. Greene’s face crumpled, and she began to cry.

  “I knew Evern had something to do with it. When I was a little girl, I used to see him in town.” Mrs. Greene’s voice cracked with emotion. “No justice. The best day of my life was when he died. I know he’s burning in hell for what he did.”

  “Wasn’t too much we could do about Evern Alcott in those days,” Mr. Coolidge said.

  “But it’s not like that anymore,” Janie said. “Things have changed.”

  “Have they?” Mrs. Greene sniffed. “The only change I’ve seen is that men like Evern Alcott don’t wear white sheets anymore. Some things haven’t changed at all.”

  “But Warrenville has changed,” I said. “From when you were young? To now? You can’t deny that truth.”

  Mrs. Whitney moved closer and touched Mrs. Greene’s shoulder. “Lena, we’re not going backward. We’ll never go back there. We’re going to press forward whether they like it or not. And we’ll always remember. This is why we need to set things right, first with Abner, and then with the rest of the spirits haunting Creek Church. There are other places around town with haints, too. Heal this town once and for all.”

  Mrs. Greene nodded and wiped her eyes. She pulled Janie in close to her. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I—” She faltered, too caught up in emotion.

  Janie wiped tears from her face. “I’m sorry too.”

  Mr. Coolidge straightened his suit and placed his hat snugly on his head. “Let’s go help this boy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Love and Faith

  Mrs. Greene and Mrs. Whitney rambled around the house, collecting items. Janie, Ellis, and I sat in the parlor, afraid to get in the way. It was as if we were in a dream that might disappear at any moment in the afternoon sunlight.

  Mrs. Greene carried a glossy box, and she placed it on the table.

  “What’s in there?” Ellis asked.

  “Some of Sophie’s things from the attic,” Mrs. Whitney said.

  She opened the box to reveal a few of the items Janie and I had seen in the locked trunk. The delicately worn cotton-and-lace dress, the picture of Sophie and Abner, and the diary.

  Mrs. Whitney took off her necklace with the black stone and placed it inside. “I have blessed this hematite with a spell to remove obstacles from our path and guard us from harm.”

  “Harm?” Ellis jerked his body upright.

  “You must understand these spirits don’t want Abner to leave,” Mrs. Whitney said as she guided us to the car.

  “Wait,” Ellis said.

  “Don’t tell me you’re still being a scaredy-cat?” Janie rolled her eyes.

  “Ellis, what’s wrong?” I asked.

  He lowered his head, suddenly shy. “We’ve been through a lot this summer.”

  Janie raised her eyebrows. “And?”

  “What about Jasper?” Ellis stared at his feet. “He won’t be with us.”

  “That Johnson boy? From the trailer park?” Mrs. Greene asked.

  “He works for me,” Mrs. Whitney said. “A fine young man.”

  “He helped us discover where Abner is buried,” I said.

  “Then I guess we should go fetch him,” Mrs. Greene said.

  • • •

  When we arrived at Jasper’s trailer, he was dumping water into one of the birdbaths. Mrs. Greene rolled down her window and smiled. “Jasper Johnson, how are you doing today?”

  Jasper dropped his bucket. This was the first time Mrs. Greene had spoken to him in a nice manner, and it had caught him off guard.

  Ellis opened the car door. “We tried to call you, but no one answered the phone.”

  Jasper blinked. “What’s going on?”

  Janie pushed Ellis out of the way. “We’re getting Abner out.”

  Jasper widened his eyes. “Right now?”

  “Yes,” Janie said. “Get in.”

  We squeezed in to make room for him in the backseat. Mrs. Greene didn’t say anything about Jasper’s dirty sneakers.

  “Ellis insisted we come get you,” I said.

  Jasper gave Ellis a high five. “Good looking out.”

  • • •

  When we arrived at Creek Church, Mrs. Greene parked behind Mr. Coolidge’s sleek black car. He was with his sons, who were also morticians. In front of Mr. Coolidge’s car was a truck, and two men in overalls were leaning on the hood. The truck held all sorts of shovels and a wheelbarrow. I knew at once they were the gravediggers.

  “Y’all all right?” Mr. Coolidge asked them.

  The men pointed to the woods behind the church foundation. Shadows shifted through the branches.

  “We didn’t come here to mess with no haints, sir,” one of them said.

  Mrs. Whitney laughed. “Grown men afraid of what these four children have faced. You should be ashamed. Where is your faith?”

  The men remained silent. I grabbed Janie’s hand, and she reached for Ellis’s, who then grabbed on to Jasper: a human chain.

  We walked toward the church steps.

  • • •

  Streaks of sunlight came through the green darkness. Whispers surrounded us and vibrated in my chest as the wind whipped through the air. When we arrived at the graveyard, warm puffs escaped my mouth, and I began to shiver.

  Mrs. Greene and Mrs. Whitney walked through the tall weeds and grass to stare at the giant oak.

  “Same as before,” Mrs. Greene said. “Still dead.”

  “You know about the black tree?” I asked.

  “This is where a lot of the victims were killed,” Mrs. Whitney said.

  “God bless their souls.” Mr. Coolidge pressed his Bible to his chest.

  The mist in the trees grew heavy, and I was beginning to get nervous. We still hadn’t seen Abner. The sunlight no longer penetrated the growing mist. The woods grew darker.

  “There, I see it.” I pointed at the rocks. Daphnis was still where I had left her.

  Mr. Coolidge motioned the gravediggers to come forth with their equipment. One of them opened a bag full of shovels while the other moved the rocks.

  The wind strengthened; faint whispers lingered in the air like white noise. I wondered if the others heard them.

  “So much evil,” Mrs. Whitney said.

  “Now she notices,” Ellis mumbled.

  The air grew icy as the whispers heightened. The gravediggers’ shovels trembled. When they broke ground, a thunderous roar erupted around us. I clasped my hands over my ears to
block out the terrifying sound. The gravediggers dropped their shovels and ran toward the road.

  “Come back!” Janie shouted.

  Jasper and Ellis moved closer to us. We huddled against the strong winds and wicked noises.

  “I command you to let us take this child in the name of Sophie’s love and faith!” Mrs. Whitney raised her voice as she clutched the box with Sophie’s belongings. The deep roar turned into malicious laughter. The wind strengthened with bone-chilling gusts. Mrs. Greene had to hold Mrs. Whitney up against the force.

  Mrs. Whitney and Mrs. Greene now held the box together in their arms. They looked frail against the strong wind. Mr. Coolidge stayed in front of Abner’s unmarked grave and held up his Bible.

  “We have to get the diary,” I told Janie. “It may be the only way.”

  Janie and I struggled against the force of the wind. I grabbed Mrs. Whitney’s hand. “Open the box!” I yelled.

  Janie retrieved the diary and raised it above her head. I grabbed her arm to keep the book from flying out of her hands.

  “Abner!” Janie shouted.

  Mr. Coolidge quickly put his Bible between his knees, picked up a shovel, and started to dig.

  “We need to help dig,” Jasper said to us. “Grab a shovel.”

  Ellis and I picked up shovels, and Mrs. Greene supported Janie against the wind.

  The earth moved under our efforts, and the sharp smell of freshly turned dirt filled our noses. The weight of the shovel strained my arms. Despite the pain and the wind, we weren’t giving up.

  “I hit something!” I said.

  Mr. Coolidge bent down and began to move the dirt away from my shovel. A dull white bone revealed itself, and the wind instantly weakened, as if we had pulled a lever to release something.

  The mist shifted, lifting up into the sky; sunlight filtered through the trees. We were in a completely different setting. Bright yellow light danced around us, casting the leaves as shadows on the red Georgia clay.

  “These are a child’s bones,” Mr. Coolidge said.

  Jasper stood up from the grave and examined the woods. I followed his gaze to see a dark shadow spin through the foliage before it broke apart and floated toward our group. We stood silent, afraid to move. Before our eyes the shadow transformed into a human shape.