The opening was now about four inches wide and a foot and a half long. She inched her way up and reached through the hole; she felt nothing. She loosened the next board and it came away more easily; now a full half of the opening was uncovered. The remaining half of the cover was loose, and she wrestled with it, afraid it would fall on her on its way past. Successful, she heard it bounce and scrape its way to the bottom, for a final splash. The opening was now clear. So why wasn’t there fresh air to breathe?
Part Two
1
Michael strode up the porch steps and into the kitchen, the screen door slamming behind him. He kissed his wife on the side of the neck, then pulled a cold beer from the refrigerator and sat at the kitchen table before opening it. She was a lovely girl, Maggie. A little plumper than the day they had married, but her face was just as pleasant and her disposition just as cheerful. She had passed that precious quality to their children, too, both in their natural demeanor and in their altitudes. He loved her very much.
Maggie dried her hands on her apron, poured herself a glass of fresh lemonade, and sat at the table with him. The kids were not yet home from school, and these midafternoon talks with just the two of them at the kitchen table had become a daily ritual, one they both enjoyed. She looked at him closely. The years were wearing on him well. The lines etched deeply in his skin gave his face character. Tanned and rough, with a generous sprinkling of gray in his hair, he was more handsome now than ever before. Put a suit on him and he’d look the picture of a successful executive. She smiled. He was a farmer, though, and she liked that.
“I went to see your mom today,” he said.
“How is she?” Michael had always felt closer to Maggie’s parents than she had, and he visited Cora often since her husband had died of a stroke two years ago in the fields.
“She’s good. She sent her love to you and the kids. She also sent some peaches she put up last season. They’re in the truck.”
Michael wished Maggie would pay more attention to her mother but didn’t press the issue. He knew the problem. He sipped his beer.
Maggie stared into her glass. “I thought I’d drive her into town tomorrow. Maybe we could go shopping or something.” Michael worked hard to suppress his surprise and pleasure. He didn’t want to overdo it, but to have his wife and her mother together on a social basis was more than he could have wished for. It was, in fact, an answer to his prayers.
“I think that’s a fine idea. Why don’t you pick up some more yarn and knit me another of those sweaters? The winter is coming, and I’ve worn holes in the elbows of my favorite.”
“What color would you like?”
“I don’t know. Do you think red would make me sexy?”
She laughed and got up. “You don’t need no help.” She shooed him out of the kitchen and went back to fixing dinner.
2
“Momma? Sit down here a minute, would you, please? I’ve got something on my mind that I think needs put to rest.” Maggie was in her mother’s kitchen for the first time in a year. The table was piled high with their purchases from town, including some new red wool for Michael’s sweater and a bolt of Pendleton blue plaid for the kids’ winter clothes She knew Michael would laugh when he saw she’d bought a whole bolt of it, like he did when she bought a whole bolt of red and white checkered cloth from the Sears, Roebuck catalog. But it had made a tablecloth, kitchen draperies, several aprons, towels, and dresses for the girls. He had liked the effect, even though it was all the same. Economy, she had told him, and he’d given her a kiss.
Cora sat across the table from her, a pot of steeping tea between them. She moved the packages aside and looked at her daughter.
“Yes, I believe it’s time whatever is between us was laid to rest, Maggie.” She poured the tea and waited.
“Momma, I’ve prayed long and hard about this, and I think I’m at fault. I’m feeling guilty, and have been laying it on you and Papa. Ever since Michael and I . . .”
“Hush, child. There’s no reason to go over all that again.”
“I can’t hush, Momma. I’ve got to talk this out, and I’ve got to do it now, in order to cleanse myself and be rid of this feeling.”
Cora sipped her tea and listened. Maggie always was a strong-willed girl. She waited.
“I guess I always thought it was wrong when Michael and me started loving one another, so soon after Sally Ann died. And then we went against Papa’s wishes and yours and went ahead and lived together before she could be pronounced dead, and that bothered me a tremendous lot. That’s why we went off and got married without you and Papa there. I was pregnant with Justin, and I was angry that we had to sneak around with our love for so long out of respect for Sally Ann’s memory. When she just up and took off. Or whatever.
“But you have to know, Momma, it was all my doing. Michael loves you as well as he loved his own folks, and he was against getting married without your blessings. But, Momma . . .” The tears began to spill over her eyelids. “I was so tired of having to deal with Sally Ann. I had to deal with her all my life, because she was older, and slimmer, and prettier, and she married Michael, and I was always so jealous. And then Michael loved me when she took off, and she didn’t deserve him and I did, but still I had to live in her shadow for seven long years. It was hard, Momma, and it went against my grain, and I always felt you and Papa were disappointed in me for not respecting Sally Ann’s memory like you taught me to.” The tears were coming faster, and the sobs broke from her chest.
“I’m a good wife, Momma. And a good mother. Our kids are bright and nice and Michael and I love each other so much . . . and I love you too, Momma, and I want us to be friends.”
She looked up and saw silent tears on Cora’s face. Neither spoke for a long time. Maggie felt the knot in the pit of her stomach ease up for the first time in all these years, and love for her mother and sorrow for the missed chances in their relationship coursed through her. The pent-up flood of tears broke and she put her forehead on her arms and cried. Cora came around and sat beside her.
“Maggie. I know you’re a good wife and mother. I’ve got eyes. So did your papa. And we could see the way you and Michael looked at each other. There are no more perfect grandchildren in the whole world than the ones you’ve given us. What happened with your sister is over and done with now. Only God knows her fate, and it was God that brought you and Michael together right here under our roof. We’ve always loved you, and always prayed that you’d come back to us. God bless you, child. You’ve lived with a burden that wasn’t necessarily yours to bear. Come now. Drink your tea.”
Maggie looked up and smiled at her mother. And soon they were both laughing. Laughing with a joy of togetherness that they had never known.
3
Life sure is good, Michael thought to himself as he loaded the last of the calves on the back of the truck. He jumped in the cab, started the engine, and with a final wave to Maggie, set off to the city, where the calves would bring a nice price on the auction block. He always enjoyed this yearly three-day trip away from the farm. It gave him some time to think, to miss the family, to see some new sights, to get a taste of the other side of life. It always renewed his appreciation for what he had.
As he turned onto the main highway, his thoughts automatically went to Sally Ann. His first trip to market was one week after she had left, and she was the topic of conversation all the way in and all the way home with his father-in-law. He never seemed to be able to drive this way without trying to figure out why she had left, or where she had gone. It was so long ago, but still the mystery remained. He couldn’t bear to consider that she had been killed, or kidnapped. He preferred, no matter how much it hurt, to think she had left him and was living a happy and comfortable life.
Oh, Sally Ann, how I loved you. I hope you are well. With that, he turned his thoughts to the load of beef on the back of his truck.
Maggie watched the truck disappear down the highway and returned to the kitchen w
here tubs of plump blueberries were to capture her attention for the rest of the day. She got the recipe file from the shelf and pulled cards for jam, jelly, and Michael’s favorite compote. She called to Justin to get out of bed and help her bring in the cases of jars from the barn, then rousted the twins to wash their hands, then wash the blueberries. Time they learned how to get their hands all purple, too.
She was holding the door for Justin as he brought in the last case of jars when the phone rang.
“Maggie?”
“Hello, Momma.”
“Maggie, has Michael left for market yet?”
“About a half hour ago, why?”
“Well, there’s a noise going on over here that’s starting to concern me and I was hoping I could catch him before he left. I’d like to find out what’s wrong. I sure hope it isn’t the water heater again, but I’m afraid it is, and it’s been going on for a couple of days now.”
“Justin and I can come over before we start the blueberries, Momma.”
“No . . . I hate to bother you.”
“No bother, Momma. We’ll be right over.”
Maggie hung up and wished she hadn’t volunteered. Most likely it wasn’t anything they could do anything about anyway, but it might set her mother’s mind at ease.
“C’mon, Justin. We’re going over to Grandma’s for a few minutes.” The girls squealed with delight. “You two keep washing those blueberries. We won’t be gone but a couple of minutes.” They returned to their task with sullen faces.
Cora met them in the drive, and the three went behind the house to the water-heater shed.
“Now listen.”
A faint tapping broke the stillness, erratic but high-pitched, metal on metal.
“The sound’s comin’ from over there,” Justin said. They all turned to where he pointed, and saw nothing but the neighboring field and the old well cover that stuck up about two feet from the ground. Justin walked toward the well cover, but the sound had stopped.
“It was louder yesterday,” Cora said. “I just can’t for the life of me figure what it might be.”
Justin stopped in front of the old well. “What’s this, Grandma?”
“Just an old well, Justin. It went dry years ago and your Grandpa put that cover on it to keep you young’uns from falling in and killing yourselves. There isn’t anything down there.”
He walked over to it and knocked on the domed iron lid. It rang solid. A moment later, the tapping began, furiously.
“It is coming from here! Listen!” They all heard it.
Justin examined the bolts that held the lid on. “I’m going to get the crowbar and get this lid off here, Momma. There’s something in there that wants out.”
The two women looked at each other.
An hour later, the last bolt broke. Cora stepped back out of the way while Maggie went to help her son slide the heavy lid off the well. A putrid odor assaulted them as the top grated open. They stopped, caught their breaths, and gave a final heave, and the lid slid off the opening and one edge fell to the ground.
“Good God!” Justin’s hand covered his mouth. Maggie screamed and backed away. A moan escaped Sally Ann’s black and swollen lips as she tried to shield her blind, jerking eyes with a forearm that had lost its muscular control. “Momma, help me!” Justin shouted. Maggie shook her head, eyes riveted on the apparition from the well, and backed farther away. “Grandma?” Cora moved in quickly and, fighting the reaction from the terrible smell, grabbed the thin brittle wrist and stilled its flailing about.
“Grab her ankles, Justin, and we’ll ease her out of there.” Sally Ann had wedged herself into a niche four inches high by three inches deep, between the cover and the top lip of the well. Working carefully, pulling gently, one leg at a time, the hips, then the shoulders were eased out. They set her down on the grass and Cora sent Justin for a bucket of cool water.
It was the body of a little girl, but it was as light as a paper bag. Breasts were sunken into the ribs, and the toes were worn down, leaving raw wounds on her feet. Strands of blond hair remained, but most of the head was bald and raw, and her shoulder bones were laid bare where the flesh had been scraped off. Eyes were sunk deep into their sockets and as Cora washed away the blood and grime from her face, the girl became semiconscious and started sucking the cloth. “Easy, girl. Not too much to drink at first.” She removed the cloth, and immediately the girl tried to speak.
The swollen tongue wagged through toothless gums as clicking noises came gagging from deep in her throat. Cora turned to Justin who was gaping at the sight. “Justin, get your mother and cover up this hole, then help me get this poor thing into the house.”
Maggie stepped forward. “No!”
Cora turned and looked up at her, a puzzled frown asking the question.
“She’s come back to haunt me, Momma. It’s Sally Ann, back from the grave!”
Cora looked down at the frail creature and she caught her breath. “Great Mother of God,” she breathed quietly. She scooped the girl up in her arms and carried her into the cool house, the bent baby spoon still dangling from one finger.
4
After a brief knock on the door, Cora entered the room. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.”
“I brought you some breakfast.”
“I’m not very hungry.”
“If you don’t eat, girl, you won’t be able to keep up your strength.” Cora set the tray down on the dresser. “Here. At least have some toast.”
Sally Ann sat up in bed and took the plate of wheat toast from her mother. “Thanks.”
“And after you eat, I’ll take another look at those toes. You should be up and walking about now. That’ll bring back your appetite.”
“I want to see Michael.”
Cora sighed. She drew up a chair from the desk and sat down. “I guess it’s time we talked the truth to each other, Sally Ann. Michael doesn’t know you’re here.”
“Well, tell him. I’m well enough to see him now.”
“It isn’t that simple. You see, when you disappeared, Michael mourned you for a long, long time. We all did. We didn’t know if you’d run off or been kidnapped or what. But there was never any word, and so we finally had to get over it and get on with living our lives. I know your Papa prayed for you every day of his life. And Michael . . . well, he had to get on with his life, too. Once you were declared dead, he remarried. So now he has a family, and we don’t want anything to interfere with his happiness.”
“Any thing? You mean me! But if he waited so long, he can’t have much of a family yet. Oh, Momma, the only thing that kept me going down there was thinking of Michael. I’ve really got to see him. I’ve got something to tell him.”
“You’ve been gone a long time, Sally Ann. Michael and Maggie have four children . . .”
“Maggie? Maggie? Michael married Maggie?” Sally threw the covers off her legs and started to get up. “You’ve no right to keep me here. I want to see my husband.”
Cora pushed her back to bed with one hand. Still so frail, she thought. “He’s not your husband any longer, Sally Ann. He and Maggie have four children; did you hear me?”
Sally stopped struggling against her mother and lay her head back on the pillow. She closed her eyes, feeling faint from the exertion. She couldn’t possibly have heard what she thought she heard.
“You’ve been gone twenty years, Sally Ann.”
The room started spinning. She heard a voice from far off saying “Clinton! Wait for me, Clint.” It was her own voice, but her head seemed stuffed with cotton. She felt a cool cloth on her forehead, and she waited until the buzzing in her ears died away. Twenty years. Twenty years of her life wasted in an underground hole. She was now thirty-six years old. And scarred and ugly and Michael was lost to her forever. Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and she reached for her mother’s hand.
5
Cora was cleaning up the luncheon dishes in the kitchen while Sally Ann did her dail
y exercises on the living-room floor. Her body had healed well, and though the scarred skin was pulled taut over her back, the muscles were starting to come back. She had gained weight and walked with barely a trace of a limp. Her eyes had stopped that incessant jerking, and her sight was returning rapidly.
“Momma?”
“Yes, dear?”
The problem, as she viewed herself in the mirror, was the face. Her parchment skin showed blue veins as it clung to her bones. Over her sunken cheeks were patches of scaly skin that itched and turned red and white when she scratched them. Her head was still bald and scarred, even though the hair was growing back in spots. A scarf hid most of that. Her lips and what teeth were left were black as tar. She looked like a living skull.
She thought constantly of Clint—she missed him almost more than she could bear—but there were things she needed to do before she could go back to him. He would be all right. He was in his element, he was twenty years old, and—the darkness loved him.
“I want to go to town.”
“I think that’s a very good idea if you’re feeling up to it.”
“I want to see the dentist.”
Cora stood in the doorway and dried her hands on a dish towel. Sally Ann looked up at her and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll use a fake name.”
Pain crossed Cora’s face, and she turned and went back to the kitchen. It is so unfair, Sally thought. She was supposed to pick up the pieces of her life. But where was she to start, when her own family wouldn’t even support her? Well, at least the situation was clear.
Cora walked to the bedroom and returned with a simple housedress that might fit Sally’s slim frame. “Here. Try this on and I’ll call Dr. Green for an appointment.”
Foundations of Fear Page 80