Will O Wisp

by Risner, Fay

  “Sorry I'm, but I can't see where I'm walkin',” Shana complained.

  “We cain't use the lantern until we're ready to go home. We want to surprise the person wandering around in the trees,” Gracie hissed.

  They reached the edge of the timber where it met the evergreen grove behind the cemetery. Gracie held her arm out to stop Melinda and Shana. The glow from a lantern wavered over the stones. The person using it was a woman in a white dress. Her large brimmed white straw hat was tilted down, shading her face from view. She was dressed fashionably for the times, but usually, that sort of outfit was used for a garden party or a wedding. Other times, women wore white clothes to church and for special occasions. Wandering around in a timber at night and someone else's cemetery in the dark didn't exactly fit as a dress up occasion.

  The woman set the lantern on the ground and leaned over the bare spot. She appeared to be gently patting the earth. She picked the lantern up and with her back to the watchers, she climbed over the cemetery fence.

  “Hey, what are you up to, trespassing in my cemetery?” Gracie yelled.

  The woman broke out running. Gracie yelled, “Stop or I'll shoot you.” The woman thrashed noisily over dried leaves and sticks. Gracie took off after her with Melinda and Shana racing along behind. The amount of noise they made was enough to warn any night prowling animal to leave the area.

  The woman had too much of a head start. Once she got ahead of them, she put the lantern out. She seemed to know the area better than they did in the dark. The white dress, glowing in the moon light, was the only way the women barely made out the strange woman as she dodged through the trees. She soon disappeared from sight.

  Gracie panted loudly as she leaned against a tree. Melinda tried to catch her breath. Even Shana was winded.

  Finally, Gracie huffed, “We lost her.”

  “Wonder if she will be back?” Melinda said between breaths.

  “I don't know, but I sure hate to think about standing guard over the cemetery every night just to wait for her to show up,” Gracie groused. “I'm going to talk to Sheriff Logan first chance I get. He needs to investigate.”

  Melinda said, “Maybe there's some mental patient loose that needs caught.”

  “That isn't the way I saw it,” Shana said. “That woman was crying over a babe when she patted the bare ground. I'm thinking she buried her babe there by yer wee brother.”

  “Oh, Gracie. Shana may be right,” Melinda said. “It did look that way.”

  “Nothing wrong with that if that's the case. Except she should have asked my permission to bury a body in my family cemetery. That way I could tell her where to dig the grave. That spot happens to be my spot next to my baby brother. No one else should be using it.”

  “Oh, Gracie, I'm sorry. That's too awful,” Melinda managed to say between pants.

  “I don't think it's awful. I have always thought I'd be resting along side the rest of my family when I died. I shouldn't have to do any different,” Gracie barked.

  Melinda swallowed hard. “Of course, you're right, Gracie. I meant it was awful for you that someone would use your plot without asking.”

  “What do you figure to do about this?” Shana asked.

  “Well, authorities need to know when someone dies. Maybe the sheriff already has word that happened in the area. I sure intend to find out,” Gracie said. “Now let's head back to the house. We need to get some sleep if we're going fishing in the morning.”

  The next morning, Melinda started breakfast early. Gracie got a cup of leftover coffee out of the pot before Melinda cleaned it. When the cup went dry, Gracie was ready to go to the barn.

  As she opened the kitchen door, she heard Melinda say, “Oh, no.”

  “What's wrong?” Gracie asked, headed back across the kitchen.

  “The lid was off the crock of last night's milk. A mouse is floating around in it,” Melinda said. “I hate losing all that good milk. What do we do with it?”

  “The cat, dog and chickens will eat good for awhile,” Gracie said. “We can use it up pretty fast that way. You forget to put the lid on the crock?”

  “No, I didn't,” Melinda said slowly.

  “Well?”

  “Shana must have forgotten to put it on after she strained the milk. She brought me back the flour sack she strained with so I could rinse it out and went on outside,” Melinda said.

  Gracie shook her head. “I told that girl this would happen.”

  “Now, Gracie, don't be too hard on Shana,” Melinda said. “All this is new to her.”

  “You would do good not to mollycoddle her. She needs to do her chores right,” Gracie declared.

  After chores, Gracie opened up Thad's tool shed and brought out three cane poles with string and hooks attached.

  “I'll carry the poles if you can carry the worm can, girl. Melinda can bring the picnic basket,” Gracie planned.

  Shana and she walked back to the house. Gracie leaned the poles against the porch wall and went inside. “Breakfast ready?”

  Melinda smiled at them. “Yes. I suppose you two are wanting me to hurry up so you can go fishing.”

  “Something like that,” Gracie said. “Oh, girl, Melinda told me she found a mouse floating in the milk from last night's milking. No lid on the crock. You know anything about that?”

  “Oh, and for sure. that would be my fault. I forgot, Aunt Gracie, and sorry I am,” Shana said, looking like she really meant it.

  “Well, how about you help Melinda carry the milk off by taking some to the cat and her kittens. Give Spot some and take some out to the hen house and put in one of the troughs. Keep checking. When the milk is gone, pour some more in. It might take a day or two to get rid of all that milk, but I'll have us some fresh pretty quick. Just don't forget again, Shana. That was an awful waste,” Gracie said.

  “So sorry, Aunt Gracie. I will do better,” the girl promised.

  After kitchen cleanup and the chores were done, Gracie called into the kitchen, “You ready to go, Melinda?”

  “I think so. I'm going to borrow Thad's straw hat so the sun doesn't get on my face too much.” She took the hat off a peg and put it on over her gray curls.

  “You carry the picnic basket. I got the poles and the girl has the bait. Reckon we're ready to go,” Gracie said eagerly.

  “Oh, dear. I knew there was something I was forgetting. I haven't fixed the picnic lunch yet. I just finished doing the dishes and cleaning off the table. You two go on without me. I'll catch up as soon as I packed the basket,” Melinda said.

  “Are you sure you want to walk through the pasture by yourself?” Gracie asked.

  “Didn't you say the pond is over that first hill behind the barn?” Melinda asked.

  “Yip.”

  “Well, I don't see how I can get lost. I'll be along soon. Go on now and get started having fun,” Melinda urged.

  Gracie picked up the poles and headed for the barn yard. “Come on, girl. Melinda will be along soon with the picnic basket.”

  Shana skipped along beside Gracie as they climbed the pasture hill. Half way up, Gracie slowed down, breathing harder from the climb. Shana took her hand and said in concern, “Sure and do you think you should stop and rest a minute, Aunt Gracie?”

  “Nope, we're almost to the top now. It's all down hill from there,” Gracie said. She glanced at Shana's hand in her's. She didn't try to remove the small hand that gripped her's as she started climbing again.

  Just before they reached the top of the hill, Gracie said in a quiet voice, “Listen, we're close to the pond now.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Hear the water tumbling over the dam and going down the gully. The pond always gets too full after the spring rains,” Gracie said.

  At the top of the hill, Shana said, “Sure enough, the water is comin' out of the pond.”

  When they reached the pond bank, there was a big splash in the water.

  “What was that?” Shana asked.

/>   “A frog. Look over the side the bank. You might see little green heads watching you. The frogs are usually half out of the water, waiting for a bug.”

  As Shana peeked over the bank, a frog let out a deep “Ribbit.”

  “That's what the frogs sound like when they're talking to each other,” Gracie said, laying down the poles. “Frog legs are good fried. One of these days, we'll come frogging if you want. Now I always sit under this big burr oak tree. We have shade when the sun gets high and hot.”

  Shana picked up one of the poles. “Sounds good to me, Aunt Gracie.”

  Gracie studied the girl a moment. “Where are you getting that Aunt business? We aren't related.”

  “I call Melinda aunt. She said I could, and we aren't related, either. I don't think it matters as long as we like each other. Do you?” Shana said.

  “You're right sure you want me for an aunt?” Gracie asked.

  “I don't have any other relatives except Mama and Papa Lang and the babes. You don't have any kin so why can't we be kin?”

  Gracie shrugged. “No reason that I can see right now. If I come up with a reason down the line, I'll be sure to let you know.”

  “Sounds good to me, Aunt Gracie. Now is there a certain way to put the worm on the hook?” Shana asked.

  “Just start running the hook through the inside of the worm until it's threaded on the hook. If the worm is too big to get all of it on the hook, break the worm off. Put it back in the can for the next baiting,” Gracie said. “Only if we were to want to save what worms we have left for another time, we can't leave the broken worms in the can. They die and cause the other worms to die so we have to sort them out.”

  “Sure and it tis, I understand.” Shana worked a worm on her hook as Gracie talked. “I got the hook baited so am I ready?”

  “Yip, just get over some so you got room to throw without hitting me or the tree. Hold the pole over your shoulder then give the top end a toss and the string goes out in the water. Just stay away from the tree until the line is in the water so you don't get the hook caught in the limbs,” Gracie said.

  When Melinda showed up, she was tuckered out. “Mercy, that seemed like a lot farther to walk than just over the hill, Gracie Evans.”

  “Sit down and rest a while,” Gracie invited, grinning as she inspected her empty hook.

  “I intend to. How far is this pond from the house?” Melinda asked.

  Gracie rubbed her chin. “Oh, I expect it's a quarter of a mile.”

  “No wonder I'm tired,” complained Melinda.

  “Well, you're the one that thinks walking is good exercise,” Gracie said, threading another worm on her hook.

  “Walking on flat ground in the city is a lot easier than up and down hills in this rough ground,” Melinda groused. “Catch any fish yet?”

  Shana pulled the stringer out of the water to show Melinda. She pointed out her yellow bellied bullhead with pride. She whispered, “The wee one is Aunt Gracie's.”

  “You're doing so well. I better get my hook in the water and catch up. We want plenty of fish to fry for supper in case Mr. Sokal comes tonight.” Melinda looked sideways at Gracie.

  “Did you have to bring that up?” Gracie groused. “Just the thought of that man at our supper table and eating our fish spoils my day.”

  Melinda waved her hand at Gracie and laughed.

  “Can I go around the other side of the pond and try my luck, Aunt Gracie?” Shana asked.

  “I don't care. Just be careful when you're close to the bank so you don't fall in.” Gracie asked as an after thought. “Can you swim?”

  “Not a drop,” Shana said.

  “I can't either so you're on your own if you fall in the pond,” Gracie warned the girl.

  Melinda cast her line into the water and sat down by Gracie. She held onto the line, feeling for a bite. “It's nice that Shana calls you Aunt Gracie now?”

  Gracie grunted.

  “I don't see anything wrong with it. Do you?”

  “It's all your fault. She says you said it was all right to call us aunt since she doesn't have any kin,” Gracie said.

  “I did say something like that to her about myself, because I like it,” Melinda whispered. “I didn't include you, but I think it would be good if you let her call you aunt.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Shana really likes you, and she looks up to you,” Melinda declared.

  “I don't know why she would want to do that,” Gracie said bluntly.

  “Frankly, I don't either. I think I make a much better role model, but sometimes, a child sees things differently,” Melinda said frankly. “Maybe it has something to do with you being so bluntly honest with her. Or, maybe it's because you're teaching her new and fun things to do like going fishing.”

  “Don't ruffle your feathers. I told the girl it was all right to call me aunt until further notice. If I change my mind, I told her I'd let her know,” Gracie said firmly.

  Melinda shot a searing glance at her and back at her line. “Honestly, Gracie, sometimes I don't understand you.”

  Chapter Eight

  Later that afternoon, Shana complained while they cleaned the stringer full of fish. She said that part of fishing wasn't any fun. Gracie rubbed it in that cleaning the fish was part of fishing. She'd remind the girl of that when Shana ate her share of fried fish for supper.

  After supper, Gracie said, “I'm going out on the porch and sit a spell. Anyone want to join me.”

  “We do,” Melinda said. “Come on, Shana.”

  Gracie and Melinda took the two chairs, and Shana sat with her legs dangling off the porch. Spot laid down beside her with his head resting on his front legs. Shana rubbed his head between his ears as she studied the darkness around them.

  “Gracie, aren't we lucky someone thought of building front porches on houses,” Melinda said.

  “Coolest place in the country during the summer unless it's that swing out there in the yard.” Gracie pointed to the tree in the corner of the yard where the swing swayed in the breeze.

  “I'm so glad I came with you. This is the best place to visit to get away from the city,” Melinda said adamantly.

  “Me as well. Aunt Gracie, I like it here,” Shana agreed.

  “What do you like about being here, dear?” Melinda asked.

  “There's so much new to me to do. I have a dog and cat with kittens to play with. Chickens that have names that lay eggs I get to eat for breakfast. We can go fishing. What are we going to do tomorrow, Aunt Gracie?”

  “Let me think about that, and I'll let you know in the morning, youngun,” Gracie said.

  They sat quietly watching the night surround them. Before they realized it, all three of them dozed off. Melinda's head nodded and jerked back up, waking her. “My goodness! I just went to sleep sitting here so still.”

  “Me, too,” Gracie said, rubbing her eyes.

  “Aunt Gracie, tell me a story,” Shana suggested.

  “Humph, you might as well try remembering a story in your head, girl, and tell it to yourself. My head is too thick to think now. It's my bedtime.” Gracie rose from the chair and went inside.

  “Maybe she will tell you a story when she isn't so tired. We should go to bed. We want to be ready for a fresh start in the morning,” Melinda suggested.

  The next morning, Shana asked again what they were going to do that day.

  Gracie said, “We should check out Ivy's garden. It might need hoeing. If we all three work on that this morning, then this afternoon we can walk over to Neff Graves's place. I've been wanting to talk to him.”

  Upon inspection, Gracie found Ivy kept a clean garden. It didn't take them long to break the soil between the rows. After lunch, Shana and Gracie dried the dishes for Melinda so it wouldn't take long to clean the kitchen.

  That afternoon, they went for a walk, and a pleasant one it was. Melinda declared that walk good exercise. Gracie said she wasn't so sure she needed so much exercise between walk
ing to the pond the day before and to the Graves farm now.

  Shana skipped along beside them, grinning at the way the two woman bantered. When they neared the Graves place, they heard sounds of children talking and laughing.

  “Wonder how many children Neff and Lettie have now?” Melinda asked.

  “Don't know, but sure is a mess of them. Shana, do you know any of the Graves younguns?” Gracie asked.

  “Not real good, Aunt Gracie, but I have talked to some of them in town playing with the Brown kids behind the mansion,” Shana said.

  “Figures that Neff's younguns would take up with Maudie's brood,” Gracie groused.

  “Why does it figure, Aunt Gracie?” Shana asked.

  Gracie opened her mouth to answer, and Melinda warned, “Gracie.”

  With a shrug of her shoulders, Gracie answered, “Reckon cause they know each other.” She got a nod of approval from Melinda.

  At the edge of the front yard, Neff, sporting a week's growth of beard, perched unsteadily on a tree stump. He had a wash pan filled with water resting against his thick set middle. His dusty black felt hat's brim flopped over his ears as he went through the motion of washing eggs with a rag. His dark grizzled hair hung down on the frayed collar of his dull blue faded shirt.

  “Afternoon, Neff,” Gracie greeted.

  “Af'ernoon, ladies,” he slurred and hiccuped softly.

  “Neff, looks like you've found the easiest job you can do,” Gracie said dryly.

  “Someone has got to do this job. Just washin' this morning's layin'. A egg broke on the others and made a mess,” Neff said, rubbing the egg in his hand with the dripping rag.

  “Why don't you leave women's work to Lettie and go hoe that weedy corn field your sons planted for you?” Gracie barked.

  Neff gave her a slack jawed glance. “Now, Miss Gracie, I been feelin' right poorly lately. I don't want to over do myself.” He put the egg in a basket by his feet.

  Gracie scolded, “You are drunk is what you are?”

  Neff gave her a wavering hard glare as if he was seeing two of her. “You're ugly, talking that way to me. That's wha you are.”