She Stopped for Death

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She Stopped for Death Page 26

by Elizabeth Kane Buzzelli


  Fida sat decorously next to Zoe and watched the townspeople gather.

  Emily Sutton drove over with Alex, bringing Dora and Lisa with them. Lisa took up a place at the entrance to the park, handing out flyers announcing her new documentary coming to the Falls theater at Christmas.

  Minnie Moon came with Deanna and Candace. Both were dressed as if for a tea party on the White House lawn. Dora leaned close to Minnie and remarked on how pretty her girls looked. Minnie beamed at Dora’s remark and looked proudly after her two girls, who were headed toward the food table where the boys had gathered.

  The crowd swelled. Women and men came up to Abigail and introduced themselves—her half brothers and half sisters, whom she’d never met before. A few women said they were the mothers of Joshua Cane’s children, most with the worn look of women who’d led sad lives. None of them seemed to have much in common with the others. They stood off by themselves, as if not certain why they’d come at all.

  “The moment,” Abigail raised her hands, “has arrived. Every one of us is gathered here today because Joshua Cane is coming down. He is falling in my name and in the names of my two dead brothers, Aaron and Adam. And in the name of you, his other children, whom Joshua never claimed. And in the name of the women he tricked. For the people of the town he harmed in any way—ways that, after today, I never want to know about.”

  She raised her arms, stepped back, and signaled to the three men who lifted their ropes and pulled until the ropes were taut. Joshua Cane rocked on his pedestal. The men pulled harder. The statue fell. Joshua Cane’s head snapped off and rolled into a ditch. His arms twisted off as his body hit the ground. The crowd watched. There were no cheers. There was no loud clapping. They all stood still, looking away from each other. Everyone turned when Abigail beckoned them to follow her to the other side of the park, where the chairs had been set up.

  Chief Warner rang a bell and called out, “Let the older people sit in the chairs, kids.”

  He stopped boys from running to grab seats ahead of anyone too slow to beat them. Teenagers hung way at the back, pretending they didn’t know a single adult there.

  The time had come for the unveiling of Abigail’s first gift to the town—before the restroom signs and cannonballs. She took Emily Sutton’s hand and brought her to the center of the circle to stand with her beside whatever sat beneath the blue silk cloth.

  “I want the Cane name associated with all that’s best in our dear town,” she called out, hushing everyone. “First, that will be a one hundred thousand dollar donation toward a new recreation center for our children. And second . . . this.” She put her hand out toward the covered object in front of her. She put a blue silk cord into Emily’s hand and told her to pull.

  Emily pulled and the covering came away in billows. Beneath it was a fluted marble column. Atop the column was a large marble book held in marble hands.

  “Please.” Abigail waved Emily to stand in front of the book and read what was etched there.

  Tony came up behind Jenny and held her close. Christopher Morley helped Zoe to stand on her chair so she could see and hear. Dora, Lisa, and Alex smiled at each other and moved to stand among the others as the crowd pulled in closer.

  Emily Sutton put a hand on either side of marble book and read her poem to Bear Falls:

  This Place We Live

  Our mysteries are many.

  Our flaws, unbidden, glare.

  A child is never told her lot,

  Nor her future time laid bare.

  But we, the lucky, give our love,

  Claiming only some in kind.

  And beg that our unluckier kin

  Be better blessed in time.

  Let the neighbors in this place

  Forgive, forget that hatred flared.

  Let the fires die, the wounds be healed.

  Let childlike awe be shared.

  This time the deafening applause made Fida hug Christopher Morley’s ankles, the only ankles she could reach. Zoe held on to Christopher’s arm and beamed around at all the new people in her life. Jenny leaned back against Tony’s chest and felt his arms around her, his head down next to hers. Dora and Lisa were at the marble column, reading the poem again as Abigail, arm in arm with Emily, led her from group to group, introducing her to her neighbors and new friends.

 

 

 


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