A grim reflection leered into the blackened water of Shade Tree Pond tonight. Andrew’s recollection was over, but the memory of his cruel encounter with Sylvia Fletcher unwound like a vivid picture show through the channels of his mind. Though he wished that it all had been just a dream, he realized that all of his shame would now have to be faced. It was impossible for a man to conceal his past forever. Eventually, even if it took thirty years, the truth, no matter how disturbing in nature, emerged. On this evening, not even the rainwater could hide the tears that slid from Andrew’s eyes. But he had not yet faced the real test that awaited him. The time had come for his past and present to meld as one.
Andrew had long sought to forget what he had done to that little girl so many years ago. Even now, he suspected that no one in Meadowton would’ve presumed that he had anything to do with Sylvia’s murder. Like any man attempting to absolve his own guilt, Andrew spent a good part of his life convincing himself that Sylvia actually had a secret wish to die. Why else would she forge heedlessly into a pond when she didn’t have the ability to swim? He determined it was at least partly her fault, and he simply stumbled upon her during a bad moment. But when common sense consumed the better portion of his thoughts, he conceded to the lack of courage he managed to display. Furthermore, there was no conceivable excuse for permitting Ben Murden to take the blame for his misdeed.
For better or worse, the wrongs of the past would be righted tonight. He would be forced to confront the old man in a bid to rescue his son. Before he resumed his journey toward Murden’s farmhouse, he concluded that the oldster would be waiting for his arrival. In fact, he had every reason to suspect that Murden had purposely set a trap for him by using his son as bait. But Andrew couldn’t help but to wonder why the old man waited so long. If Murden had somehow discovered the truth, why hadn’t he acted before this night? What purpose had it served for him to wait thirty years to exact his revenge?
At present, only Ben Murden knew the answer to such questions, and he had no intention of withholding information from anyone much longer. Murden waited patiently by the window of his shanty so that his sight of the open field was not obstructed. Kyle remained seated restlessly on the sofa, vying for a chance to bolt out of the house and escape into the darkness. Murden seemed especially alert tonight, however, and indicated no sign of drowsiness.
“It won’t be much longer now, boy,” Murden promised Kyle.
“You keep telling me that,” Kyle responded, “but you’re not saying what we’re waiting for.” As Kyle spoke, an acute pain vibrated at the back of his skull. He immediately leaned forward and clasped his fingers behind the back of his neck. Once assuming this position, the boy felt a flow of warm energy sting his leg. He then remembered stuffing the bracelet into his jeans before leaving home. Somehow the jewelry’s energy was responsible for Kyle’s suffering. Without lending further thought to this notion, Kyle yanked the bracelet from his pocket and hurled it to the floorboards in front of Murden.
The bracelet’s gems pulsated with splendid illumination in the shadowed quarters. As Murden looked at the jewelry, the gemstones flooded his face with a rainbow of color. Though Kyle might’ve anticipated the old man’s curiosity in regard to what he revealed, Murden displayed no discernible reaction at first. It was as though he already knew that the boy was in possession of this item.
After several seconds Murden paced across the floor and stooped over to grasp the silver bracelet. As soon as his skin connected with the jewelry, the gems’ energy dimmed. Murden snickered knowingly and declared, “I don’t suppose you believe in coincidences, do you, boy?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Ben, but you’re really scarring me.” Kyle cringed as the old man’s fist tightened around the bracelet. Murden now peered at the jewelry as if he had seen it somewhere before.
“Where did you find this bracelet?” Murden asked.
Kyle experienced a momentary lapse of memory, but quickly recovered his thoughts and said, “I pulled it out of Shade Tree Pond a few days ago while fishing.” Such information didn’t seem important to the boy at first, but its significance would now be greatly increased.
“I don’t suppose you’ve considered where this bracelet originally came from, am I right?”
Kyle shrugged his shoulders as if to challenge the relevance of Murden’s question. “I never thought about it.”
“Few things happen in this world based on sheer coincidence, boy,” Murden said informatively. “In fact, very little in life is left to chance, and each of us may already have a fate predetermined. So you see, boy, whatever happens to you or me is foreseen before we actually experience it. There was never a way for you to avoid what will soon happen.”
“I wish I could’ve known what was going to happen to me tonight before I came here,” Kyle grumbled. “That would’ve changed things.”
“Only for a short time, boy. Nothing could’ve kept you from my woods.”
Kyle didn’t know how to respond, but he guessed his own curiosity had pushed him into a situation that he wasn’t prepared to undertake. Obviously, Murden had it fixated in his mind that the bracelet was linked directly to the boy’s intentions.
Murden dangled the jewelry in front of Kyle’s eyes when he said, “Notice how the gems dull when I touch them. But in your possession, the gemstones display an energy that cannot be summoned by me. Take it and see for yourself.”
Murden tossed the bracelet back across the sofa to Kyle, but the boy refused to catch the object. It bounced off the cushion and hit the floorboards with a clang. “Pick it up,” Murden demanded.
“I don’t want to touch it,” Kyle exclaimed. “It makes me feel strange.”
The old man swung the shotgun’s barrel of his shotgun in Kyle’s direction again and sneered. “I said pick it up, boy. This isn’t an option.”
It was blatantly clear to Kyle that whatever friendship he managed to develop with Ben Murden was suddenly dissolved. He reached for the bracelet with full knowledge of the deception Murden had tactfully orchestrated. “I was dumb for trying to help you, Ben. You’re just as evil as everyone said you were.”
With those words Kyle bent over and took the bracelet in his hand. The gems immediately started to glow simultaneously. The boy feared that his headache would return as well, but he was momentarily spared this agony. Murden then stepped closer to Kyle so that the gems’ resplendent light bathed them in its colors.
“You control the power now,” Murden told the boy. “Its energy has become a part of you.”
“You’re not making any sense, Ben. I don’t want to hear anything else.”
“You must hear it, boy. It is your right to know the truth. None of this is your fault, but that’s not the point of our mission. We both realize that the innocent always suffer the most.”
“Just say what you have to say!”
Murden sounded intensely satisfied when he declared, “What you hold in your hand once belonged to my daughter. Elizabeth gave it to her on her fifth birthday. Sylvia was instructed to never remove it from her wrist, and she followed this rule religiously for many years. Now I don’t profess to understand how or why the bracelet was used during their ceremonies, but I have since learned that true energy—in all forms—never truly dies.”
“It’s part of the curse,” Kyle uttered. “But I don’t have anything to do with what happened to your daughter.”
Before Murden attempted to clarify the situation, a noise sounded out in the field. It was the pace of hurried footsteps splashing across the puddle terrain. At this point, the rain streamed from the sky in torrents and claps of thunder shook the farmhouse’s wooden frame.
“Everything will make sense to you in a few seconds,” Murden assured the boy. At that moment Kyle threw the bracelet back at the old man. Murden’s reflexes were still quick enough to snap it out of the air with one hand. With the bracelet once again in his possession, Murden hobbled closer to the front door and stuffed the jewelry in his pocket.
“We’re about due for a visitor,” Murden simpered. He turned the handle on the front door and simply waited for it to open. “What you’re about to learn isn’t going to be easy to accept, boy, but someone other than me owes you an explanation.”
Murden squandered no more time speaking to the boy. He simply stood motionless in the open door, allowing the rain to streak in and soak his body. Between the raindrops, Murden directed the light affixed to the shotgun across the clearing. He was not surprised to see a weary figure approaching. He didn’t need to distinguish the man’s features. In his mind there could only be one other person navigating the woods tonight.
Andrew McCann neared the farmhouse with little regard for his own safety. He stared into the lone light pointed in his direction and knew that he had already been spotted. His only plan at this point was to negotiate with the old man and perhaps extend an apology in order to get his son back home. A shiver traced through Andrew’s spine as he stared into the eyes of a man he hadn’t been near in more than thirty years.
“C’mon,” Murden called out to him. “We’ve been expecting you.” Although the old man seemed unaffected by the inclement weather, it had no doubt taken a toll on Andrew’s stamina. Upon reaching the shanty’s porch, Andrew saw the gun and nearly collapsed in the mud.
“Don’t shoot me,” Andrew called out, obviously frazzled by his journey.
“That’s not my intention, Andrew. Now come join our little party.”
“Is my son here?”
Murden glanced behind himself to check Kyle’s position before saying, “Your boy’s waiting for you, too.”
Andrew appeared heartsick as he surrendered himself to Murden’s authority. He almost lost his ability to speak as he lurched next to the old man. He didn’t yet know what Murden had told Kyle, but he guessed that the truth was not far from being completely revealed.
“What did you tell him, Murden?”
“I told him only what was necessary for him to know. The rest I’ll leave up to you.”
By now Kyle became curious to discover with whom Murden was conversing with. He only needed to wait another few seconds before his father walked through the doorway with Murden’s shotgun pressed against his back. At first Kyle assumed that his father had come with the police to rescue him, but Andrew’s forlorn expression indicated a far different outcome.
“Dad,” Kyle exclaimed with bewilderment. “What’s going on? Did you come alone?” Andrew suddenly felt ill at the desperate sound of his son’s voice. He momentarily buckled over in the door as if an acute pain had invaded his abdominal cavity. Murden nudged the man farther into the room with the shotgun’s barrel.
“It’s never too late to make things right, boy. I reckon your father will attest to that,” Murden muttered.
“I don’t know what’s happening here, Dad,” Kyle said, appearing increasingly anxious. “What’s wrong with you?”
When Andrew refused to answer his son, Murden leaned over the sofa with the shotgun in hand and jammed it against Andrew’s chest with enough force to fracture a rib. Andrew winced with agony and fell to his knees.
“I never liked a cowardly man,” Murden hissed. “In fact, there’s probably only one other trait that I despise more than cowardice and that’s lying. Seems to me that I’m dealing with a man who has the unfortunate distinction of possessing both.”
“Okay, Okay,” Andrew groaned while raising his head to look his son squarely in his eyes. “I guess I have to explain a few things.” Andrew was staring directly at his son when he said, “Son, I have something to tell you that’s not going to be easy for you to hear. But you’ve got to believe that I wanted nothing more than to protect you and your mother.”
The terror swelled in Kyle’s expression before he said, “What are you trying to tell me, Dad?”
Andrew still struggled to pronounce the words. He remembered this all as just an ugly dream. But the confession could be concealed no longer. “I was going to tell you someday, Kyle, when you were old enough to understand…”
Kyle shivered as he shifted his eyes away from his father’s pathetic stare. Tears fell freely from Andrew’s eyes now, and Kyle couldn’t recall another instant in his life where he witnessed his father sobbing more convulsively.
“God, I don’t know how to say this to you,” Andrew sulked, but Kyle was no longer sympathetic to his father’s sorrow.
“Just say what you’ve got to say!” Kyle snapped.
Andrew realized that he was out of options. He harbored no doubt that Murden would squeeze the trigger on the shotgun if he delayed any longer.
After he settled into a somewhat normal breathing pattern, Andrew wiped the rainwater and tears from his face and peered at his son, hoping to espy a trace of empathy from the boy.
“There’s something about me,” Andrew began, nervously searching for the words that would make him sound less like a fiend. “It happened a long time ago, Kyle, and I never told anyone. I was scared. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? I was just a kid.”
Kyle’s face whitened as his father’s eyes flushed over with tears again. “Just say it, Dad,” he said, gritting his teeth with anticipated shame.
“Ben Murden did not kill that little girl in his peach grove thirty years ago,” Andrew said this as if his entire soul had deflated from his body. He could no longer look his son in his eyes as he continued. “I’m the one to blame. Murden is innocent, but I let him take the fall for me.”
“You knew all along,” Kyle whispered in disbelief. “How could you do such a thing?”
The disappointment in Kyle’s face had turned into something that no father ever wanted to see in his own child. “I never meant for that girl to die,” Andrew wept. He then turned his gaze toward Murden and pleaded, “Ben, you must have known that I was afraid. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’d take back everything I did if I could, but I can’t change the past.”
Murden didn’t reveal an initial reaction to Andrew’s apology, for he considered his repentance to be based purely on preserving the union of his own family. Without uttering a word, the old man removed the bracelet from his pocket and placed it in Andrew’s hands. The gems immediately began to glow as Andrew’s expression collapsed into a pitiful gaze.
“My god,” Andrew murmured in near disbelief. He then directed his eyes at Murden and said, “You’ve always known the truth, haven’t you?” Andrew clutched the bracelet in his hand and looked at Kyle in such a way that his countenance implored forgiveness. Kyle had already emotionally retreated from his father and trembled at the very notion of saying another word to him.
“It was all a terrible accident,” Andrew reiterated to his son. He felt the bracelet’s gems warming in his hands now. “I tried to stop her from going into the water, but she wouldn’t listen to me…”
Kyle’s voice quaked with anger when he interrupted, “You knew what you did was wrong. Why else would you hide her body in the peach grove?”
“I—I panicked…”
“But you let Ben take the blame!” Kyle was almost completely turned away from his father when he spoke again. “It’s not fair what you’ve done, Dad. That is the reason why both of us are here tonight.”
Sensing that Kyle had already abandoned him, Andrew attempted to persuade Murden to show him some mercy. “Ben, I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I know that I can never repay you for letting you bear the burden of my crime, but let me try to do something.”
A wicked smile curled into Murden’s cracked, purple lips. He then quickly snatched the bracelet away from Andrew. After returning the bracelet to his pocket he muttered, “I don’t reckon you or any man can give me what I deserve. How do you make peace with a man after you’ve stolen thirty years of his life? But there’s something more important to consider here. How do you make amends with a fellow after he’s taken everything you’ve cherished and buried her in the muddy earth?”
“I didn’t realize that you knew the g
irl,” Andrew thought aloud. But a grim thought suddenly entered his mind. “How did you know her, Ben?” he whispered.
“Sylvia Fletcher was his daughter!” Kyle shouted in one breath. “You killed his daughter, Dad!”
“That can’t be,” Andrew quivered. If the man still possessed the stamina to scream, he would’ve surely done so at this moment. But all he managed to do was cover his face with the palms of his hands and weep uncontrollably. Between his sobbing he uttered the words, “What have I done? God forgive me!”
Murden let the man have a few moments to internalize the information. Andrew truly didn’t know what else to say. An apology seemed trite at this point. “You could’ve come to me sooner,” Andrew told the old man. “Had I known that she was your daughter, I would’ve helped you.”
“Well,” Murden said in a relatively calm voice. “I’ve decided that you can indeed help me, Andrew. Both you and your son will assist me in making things right.”
“I’ll do whatever you wish, Ben,” Andrew implored, “but all I ask is that you let my son go unharmed. He doesn’t have anything to do with what has happened between us.”
The suggestion seemed reasonable to Kyle, though he didn’t expect Murden to be so agreeable. The old man’s emotionless expression hinted that he had formulated an entirely different set of plans for his guests.
“As much as I want to let him go,” Murden announced tiredly, “I’m afraid that wouldn’t settle matters. You see, Andrew, your boy has a larger part in this than you ever thought possible. We’ve come together tonight for a purpose. One curse will end on this evening and another shall begin.”
At this point, Andrew’s confusion worked to Murden’s advantage. Perplexity had deepened in Andrew’s eyes when he looked back at his son for an explanation. “Tell me what he’s talking about?” Andrew asked Kyle.
“You already know, Dad. The legend about the peach grove is true—it’s haunted by Sylvia’s ghost.”
“This can’t be happening,” Andrew snapped. “None of this is real!”
“It’s all real,” Kyle hollered, his voice cracking with rage and apprehension. “Her spirit has been in these woods ever since she died.”
Andrew’s voice was audibly tortured when he said, “It just doesn’t sound possible…”
Murden assured Andrew that it was all in fact real when he replied, “I suppose we should all feel a bit fortunate tonight. After all, we’ve spent the last thirty years wondering when the woods would come alive again and snatch up another soul. I see no need to let the next generation come of age under such uncertainty. They’ll be a time when that grove is safe again, and no one will fret over what lurks in the darkness. Mercifully, such a time is almost upon us.”
Despite the circumstances, Andrew still tried to negotiate a practical solution. “Ben, I realize that you don’t owe me any favors. You’re an angry man, and you have every right to be mad at for what I’ve done. There aren’t words good enough to express the shame I feel, but I’m only asking for you to consider the future. Enough innocent people have already suffered for what I’ve done. Whatever you’ve got on your mind, I’m begging you to think it over. Let my son leave and we can deal with this man to man.”
Murden chuckled at Andrew’s words. “This isn’t merely about you and me,” Murden clarified. “It’s not even about revenge anymore. My heart has grown weary trying to plot out a way to mend the conflict between us. I’m too sick and old to worry about how I can cause you as much sorrow as you’ve caused to me.”
“Then what is it that you want, Ben?” Andrew asked, dreading the answer.
“All I ever wanted before I died was to see to it that my daughter’s soul was at peace. I’ve waited all these seasons, listening to her songs, and finally we’ve arrived at the summer of her redemption.”
As Murden’s eyes crossed over to peer at Kyle, Andrew remembered that it was during his twelfth summer that he buried Sylvia’s body in the grove. He then thought of his son and determined that Kyle was exactly the same age. As Andrew sat shivering in the shadows of Murden’s shanty, an ungodly thought took shape in his mind.
“Listen to me, Ben,” Andrew said imploringly. “There’s no reason for anyone else to die. We can walk out of these woods together tonight and I’ll admit to everything. Your name will be cleared and we can all try to put this behind us.”
“That’s so simple for a man like you to suggest,” Murden declared. “But let’s stop all this selfishness and consider what truly matters. A little girl’s spirit has been tormented for thirty years. I have inherited the knowledge of understanding what it will take to let her sleep in eternal bliss. There is only one remedy, and it cannot be prevented any longer.”
“How do you want this to end, Ben?”
“As it began,” Murden answered Andrew. “We must have a sacrifice—one of flesh and blood…”
“Then take me,” Andrew said. “I’ll give my life if you let my son go.”
“That’s very noble of you, Andrew. I didn’t expect such a suggestion from a man who hasn’t demonstrated a single act of courage in his entire existence.”
“Just let Kyle go,” Andrew repeated. “Do what you will with me.”
“Well,” Murden tittered, “I am thoroughly impressed by your offer, Andrew, but I’m afraid your flesh and blood has already been tainted. In order for the curse to end and Sylvia have her deserved peace, I’ll need the body of someone not more than twelve summers old.”
Kyle realized that Murden’s plan had in fact included him as the sacrifice. But rather than offer a word of discontent, the boy sat emotionless on the sofa. He no longer felt compelled to escape. It was as though he accepted his fate as if it was predetermined.
“For God’s sake, Ben,” Andrew muttered in near shock. “You can’t be serious.” He was looking helplessly at his son as he continued. “My son trusted you. He was the one person who believed that you weren’t guilty.”
Murden adjusted the shotgun so that its barrel was pressed flush against Andrew’s chest. The old man then backed away from the sofa and stood in front of the open window. The rain began to dissipate in these moments. While gazing at the sky, Murden noticed the dark clouds scattering. A fragment of the crescent moon was visible in the sky. After realizing that the storm had passed, the old man knew that the time to act was upon them.
Andrew had edged closer to his son during these tense seconds. He attempted to comfort his son by placing his hands on his shoulders, but Kyle quickly rejected his father’s approach. “Don’t touch me! This is all your fault!”
“Please don’t hate me, Kyle. I was only trying to protect you and your mother. I couldn’t bring myself to tell either of you the truth.”
“A little girl died because of what you did, and you caused other people to suffer, too. I don’t know what you want from me now.”
“Just give me a chance to make it up to you,” Andrew begged.
Andrew’s gesture of reconciliation sounded insincere to Kyle at this time. Besides, it already seemed as though there wasn’t any time left for them to make amends. Murden had already limped back across the room with his shotgun still engaged in the firing position. He wasn’t staring at either Kyle or Andrew when he made his way to the center of the sofa and motioned to the floor. He then instructed Andrew to glance underneath the couch, where some particles of dried led a trail to another hidden object.
“What do you want from us?” Andrew inquired, his voice now indicating traces of anger.
“Reach your hand under the couch,” Murden directed. “You’ll find exactly what you’ll need.”
As instructed, Andrew cautiously bent over and slid his hand beneath the sofa’s frame. He couldn’t yet see what the old man had no doubt hidden, but it felt like a wooden pole. The old man directed the strobe light to where Andrew fidgeted with his hand. After a moment, Andrew pulled the object out and left it on the floor near his feet. It was a long-handled shovel with a rusted spade.
“Ben, you can’t really think that what you’re planning is going to make anything better. This whole thing is insane.”
“We’ve passed insanity a long time ago,” Murden stated. “But tonight we’ll put this mystery to rest so that no one will ever question my motives again. This is the night where Sylvia will sing her final song.”
“You’re absolutely mad,” Andrew hissed.
“He’s not crazy,” Kyle whispered, almost fearlessly. It then occurred to Andrew that his son had become transfixed with the old man’s notion of justice. Kyle was no longer contemplating a way to escape. He seemed completely submissive to Murden’s desires, no matter how diabolical in nature. There was nothing else for Andrew to do but listen to Murden’s request. The time had come for them to return to the peach grove for one final encounter with Sylvia Fletcher.
Chapter 23
Songs of a Peach Tree Page 23