He wandered back to her side. His hand touched the rail of the coffin. He smiled sadly. Actually, in another place and time Eliza could have been a Viking. Yes. He could imagine that. He had a brief image of his grandmother sporting a horned hat and carrying a spear. Yeah, she would have made a good Viking. A fighter. Ready to sail away on a burning ship to…
His breath caught.
… Valhalla.
That was the name of his parents’ cemetery.
Valhalla. The majestic hall of Asgard, built for heroes who died in combat.
Eliza hadn’t believed in any afterlife, no, but no one more deserved one. She deserved to be led to heaven by Valkyries – and not because she had been some holy roller, either. She deserved another life because she’d never been bored by living. She deserved to go on, like… he glanced at the stained glass... like the best stories go on. Never forgotten, always returned to, reimagined by every generation afterward. His grandmother deserved to be an immortal or, at the very least, to be a time-honored tale passed along to Jason’s kids, just before bed. The epic grandmother. A figure of myth.
No… a figure of Legend.
The entrance door cracked open.
“Can I – come in?” said Valerie, her head silhouetted against the afternoon sun.
“No,” said Hadewych. “You are not invited. I told you that.”
Hadewych took hold of the door, ready to shut it, but she had already put one foot in the chapel.
“Eliza was my – friend,” she said.
“Please leave.”
Valerie shook her head, sadly. Her eyes appealed to Jason.
He couldn’t decide whether he wanted her at the funeral or not. He’d have thrown Hadewych out if he could, but the executor paid the bill. Jason wasn’t really sure if he hated Valerie too. Why were she and Hadewych suddenly enemies? Wasn’t she still his mistress or something?
Hadewych acted the part of the man in charge. He lorded over Osorio.
“I insist that she be asked to leave the viewing.”
Osorio looked to Jason. “Mister Crane is the family member?”
Jason stepped around the pews and offered a hand to Valerie. “She can stay,” he said. “She’s never done anything to us, that I know of.”
Valerie closed her eyes and bowed her head. She took his hand and entered without a glance at Hadewych, who looked as disgusted as a five-star bellhop permitting entrance to a leper.
Valerie wore a becoming black dress with four tiny white buttons. She’d color-coordinated her throat apparatus again. It looked like a glossy black plastic necklace with her breathing valve for an ornament. The first time he had seen Valerie, she’d worn a white valve with a white dress. How many of those did she have?
Jason led her by the elbow to Eliza’s side. He stood at the head of the coffin, stock-still, military, one hand on the wood protectively. Valerie held a cloth to her mouth. Do flowers irritate her throat? How sad, Jason thought. Valerie gazed down at Eliza and raised the cloth to catch tears.
I still haven’t cried.
Soft music began to play. Osorio must have decided that the official viewing period had begun. Hadewych glanced at his watch. They were on the clock now.
“I’m so sorry,” said Valerie. “The Project was a mistake.”
He started to agree, but shook his head. Recriminations were useless today.
“Eliza thought it was a… grand adventure,” Jason said. “It made her happy.”
“I’m – glad we didn’t – find anything.”
This surprised him.
“You were pretty angry about that before.”
“Now I’m glad. It would have been – terrible.” She looked at Eliza’s body. “Even more terrible – than this.”
“Why?”
She looked at him and her eyes were so gentle.
“I know more now. I know – everything.”
“What everything?”
“What we were – looking for. How it got there. Everything.”
“Okay. Tell me.”
She raised her purse and opened it, reconsidered. “No. Not today. It’s not the – time. Or place.” She glanced at Eliza again. “No more dark things. Not today.”
“Yeah,” said Jason, gripping the wood. “You’re right.”
“Come to dinner – tomorrow? I’ll tell you. What I know.”
Jason nodded.
She had been about to close her purse again, but she reached into it and drew a small card.
“May I?” she said.
She wanted to tuck a tarot card in the coffin.
“No,” Jason said.
“It’s the Sun. Her significator.”
“No,” said Jason. “I don’t believe that stuff and I don’t want it.”
“Of course,” she said. She put the card back in her purse. “Of course.”
Valerie kissed her fingertips, pressed them to Eliza’s sleeve, and slipped away.
“Jason,” someone stage-whispered. Joey waved from around the corner of an inside hallway. Jason stepped from the chapel and joined his friend by the men’s room.
“How are you holding up?” Joey said.
“I’m okay.”
“I’d come in but – ” Joey indicated his blue and green workman’s clothes. They were splashed with dirt.
“I don’t care about that.”
“My dad would. I’ll be at graveside, though. Let me know if you need anything done.”
“Like what?”
“Like digging an extra hole for that Hadewych son of a – ”
Joey broke off and stared over Jason’s shoulder. Zef and Kate had entered the chapel, walking toward the coffin. Zef looked sharp in an expensive dark blue suit and matching tie. Kate wore the black blouse she had worn to the Spirit Dance, with a black jacket and skirt. She’d put her hair up again.
“Damn,” the boys muttered simultaneously. Kate and Zef made a gorgeous couple.
“I’m going now,” said Joey.
“You have to?”
“Before Zef sees me. I look like somebody’s yardman. Oh, by the way…” Joey produced a small gift-wrapped package. “Happy birthday,” he said.
“It’s tomorrow,” Jason said.
“I know. But… you’ll be gone, right?”
“Yeah. And that’s between us, okay?”
Jason opened the gift. Spare gloves. Just for the palms – no fingers.
“They’re lifting gloves,” said Joey. “They’re… butch-er.”
“Thanks.”
Joey clapped Jason on the shoulder, glanced once more at Zef, and left.
Jason greeted the newcomers. Zef and Kate made all the necessary and proper inquiries into Jason’s state of mind and voiced all the appropriate expressions of dismay at the tragedy of Eliza’s death. But there were no tears from either. They hadn’t known Jason’s grandmother. When Zef had come to Gory Brook Road the night of the dance he’d barely even looked up when Eliza opened the door. Kate had first seen Eliza on the night she died – the night of the Horseman’s Hollow. Slim acquaintance.
But Jason didn’t mind Kate’s kiss on his cheek, not one bit.
“Babe,” Zef said, “can I have a second with Jason?”
Kate nodded. “How about some water?” she said.
Jason and Zef watched Kate go. Zef began to speak but, uncomfortable within Eliza’s earshot, he led Jason to the corner to stand beneath the stained glass feet of Washington Irving.
“This guardianship thing,” said Zef. “Dad just told me.”
“I’m not going along with it.”
“He makes it sound like you don’t have much choice. He’s saying…” Zef sighed, scratched his head. “He’s saying you and I are going to be…”
“What?”
“Brothers.”
“No. No no no.”
“That’s what I said. Like we’re all going to be one happy family? No way.”
“No way. You’re not my brother,” Jason said. “I do
n’t even want you for a third cousin.”
“Anyway…” Zef looked stricken.
“What?”
Zef looked at his shoes, at the window, at the room – he looked at his father, who had slipped an arm around Kate’s waist.
“I need you to promise not to… not… you can’t… tell him.”
“About?” Jason knew, but he wanted Zef to say it.
“The lighthouse,” said Zef.
“You’re just lucky I’m not pressing charges.”
Zef’s eyes shot to his. Anger flared there but dimmed and he gave a bitter nod.
“I was drunk,” said Zef.
From the way he clutched the doorframe, Jason suspected that Zef wasn’t too sober even now.
“I remember,” Jason said.
“I was being stupid.”
“You succeeded.”
“Let me explain.”
“No. I’m not involved in your drama, guy.” Jason stepped back. “I wash my hands of it.”
Zef mumbled profanities. “Sorry for trying to make it right,” he said.
“I get it. You were drunk. It wasn’t what it looked like. Blah blah. I don’t care. I don’t. I’m not the guy you owe an explanation to – ” Jason cut himself off.
“Who?”
Jason didn’t spell it out. He waited. Zef’s face drained of color.
“What’s Joey saying?” he said. “Shit about me?”
“Nothing. Joey stands up for you. All the time. ‘Zef’s a good guy’ – that’s what he says. So, if you’re – ” he put a palm on Zef’s chest and looked him directly in the eye “ – not – ” Zef glanced away. “Then you should tell him. Not me.”
“Of course I’m not. I’m with Kate,” Zef said.
“Fine. Great. Tell him that. Once and for all. So he can get over you. He’s too good for you anyway.”
Zef straightened defiantly but shrugged, perhaps even agreeing. He looked sad. He glanced down and frowned.
“What gives?” Zef said.
“What?”
“What’s my dad’s sword doing here?”
They stood near the corner where Jason had left the sword. Zef picked it up.
“Your dad’s?” said Jason, “No. It’s mine. He gave it to us.”
“He would never do that,” Zef whispered, shaking his head. “It’s a family heirloom. Damn it, Jason. Did you steal this?”
33 SWORDPLAY
“No, I didn’t steal it. What do you mean it’s your dad’s?” said Jason.
“My dad’s. What’s it doing here?” Zef demanded softly.
“What’s it to you? It’s my sword.”
“No. It’s not. It a Van Brunt family heirloom. You’ve seen me with it, remember?”
“I did? When?” Jason thought. The sword had come from Absalom’s coffin. Hadewych had given it to Eliza. It had been in the hall closet…
Kate strode towards them with bottles of water in her hand.
“Kate,” Jason whispered. “You saw me with this sword the other night. Remember? Squirrel?”
“No, no. Baby – this is mine, right?” said Zef.
She looked at the thing. “It was dark.”
“But you know it’s mine,” said Jason.
“No,” Kate said. “I recognize it now. It’s Zef’s. Remember the dance? Zef was the Horseman?”
And now Jason did remember – Zef had a sword in his duffel bag on the night of the dance. Jason had seen a sword in the bag – under the table – when Zef had retrieved his flask and his maroon hoodie.
“I pulled the sword on you, remember?” said Zef.
Jason remembered the ringing sound as Zef had drawn his sword. He remembered stumbling back and falling off the stage.
“That was this sword?”
“I snuck it out of my dad’s closet. To complete the costume.”
Jason took the sword from Zef.
“Wait. Wait. Valerie knows,” Jason said.
Valerie sat in a pew, flipping through a hymnal. He slipped in beside her. Zef came round to her other side, leaving Kate to stand at the end of the row.
“Hi,” whispered Jason. “Zef sort of thinks this sword is a piece of his Horseman costume.”
“No. It’s an heirloom of my family.”
“Tell him where we found it,” Jason said.
“We did – an exhumation – of Jason’s ancestor – and found this sword – in the coffin,” said Valerie.
“No no no,” said Zef. “I snuck it out of dad’s closet. Not two weeks ago. It belonged to Dylan.”
“To Dylan?” said Jason.
“It’s his civil war sword. See the ‘D’ on the hilt?”
Jason hadn’t noticed the ‘D’. But he did now. A tiny angry letter. He and Valerie glanced at each other.
“Just tell me,” Zef said. “Did you swipe it out of my car or something?”
“Zef,” said Kate. “Don’t say that. It’s his grandmother’s funeral.”
“Right,” said Zef. “I’m sorry. And, actually I do remember putting it back in the closet.”
“In the closet? Figures,” Jason muttered. Zef shot daggers down the pew. Valerie squeezed Jason’s hand. Jason stood. He kept his voice firm and reasonable. “Guys. We took this sword from a coffin buried in eighteen-fifty.”
“How would you have done that?” said Kate.
“It’s impossible,” said Jason. He turned towards the back of the chapel. The other three turned to stare behind as well. Hadewych chatted with McCaffrey there, through a mouthful of chicken salad.
Jason cut across the pews and down the aisle. He threw the sword at Hadewych’s feet.
“Explain,” he said.
“Explain? What?” said Hadewych, matching his volume.
“Zef says this is Dylan’s sword.”
“Ah,” said Hadewych, frowning at his son.
“I thought he’d swiped it,” said Zef. He retrieved the sword from the floor.
“You put it in the coffin, didn’t you?” said Jason. He turned to McCaffrey. “You helped, right? You two opened the coffin. When? Before we came down to the morgue? No? In the van?” McCaffrey looked away. “In the van,” said Jason, nodding. “So I was right – you stole the real treasure. And you put this in. Why?”
Zef had slipped between Jason and Hadewych. If Jason wanted to strike the father, he would have to go through the son. Kate and Valerie came up behind.
“What was in – Absalom’s coffin?” said Valerie.
“Nothing,” said Hadewych. “Can we discuss this privately? I don’t want Kate to get a bad impression. It’s just a misunderstanding, dear. Zef – take her outside?”
Kate stood firm. “I’m fine,” she said.
“What was in the coffin?” Jason repeated.
“Nothing,” said Hadewych. “That’s why I put the sword in. All right. I admit it.”
“You admit you tricked us?” said Jason.
“I couldn’t resist peeking on the way over. So we opened the coffin early. Sue me. I couldn’t wait. But there was nothing inside. So – yes, I put the sword in.”
“You just happened to have it with you,” Jason said.
Hadewych glanced from face to face, a mountain climber looking for purchase.
“Imagine if we opened the coffin and found nothing,” he said. “Nothing – after all that work. Eliza did so much to make the Project a success – she put in so much time and money. I didn’t want to see her disappointed. I brought my ancestor’s sword so she’d have something to find in case there was no treasure.”
“You gave away a family heirloom? Right.”
“I didn’t want to, I admit. I didn’t want to give it up, but I was glad to make the sacrifice. It made her happy, didn’t it? Forgive me for not wanting to disappoint a dear old friend. It was a small deception and I do apologize.” Hadewych bowed his head. “Now,” he said, tapping his watch, “If you’ll go to your cars, it’s time for the service.”
Jason held up a hand. “I
s that what happened?” Jason said, turning to McCaffrey.
“I’m not getting involved in this,” said McCaffrey.
“Is that what happened?” Jason said.
“I’ve got work to do – I’ll bring up the hearse.”
“McCaffrey?”
But the funeral director had hurried away.
“I didn’t mean to cause a mess,” said Zef.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” said Hadewych.
“Why didn’t you – tell me about – the sword then?” said Valerie.
“I was going to,” said Hadewych, “but you got yourself so worked up, and you ran off that same night.”
“No,” Jason said. “No. You took something. Absalom’s arms were like this – ” He made a wide ‘O’. “His arms were wrapped around something for a very long time. What?”
“Lower your voice, son,” said Hadewych, frowning at Jason and gesturing. Osorio had come up the aisle, about to intervene.
“I’m not your son,” Jason said through his teeth. He stabbed a finger at Zef. “He’s your son. Make him miserable. Not me. You are never going to be my guardian.”
“It’s not like you have any other options.” Hadewych sighed. “We have to make allowances for Jason today, everyone, all right? He’s under a lot of strain.”
“Excuse me, folks?”
The group turned to discover a sloop-shouldered man standing at the door.
“Excuse me?” the man repeated.
“Can we help you?” said Kate.
“Is this the Merrick service?” the man said.
Jason shaded his eyes. The sun shone behind the man. As Jason neared, the face began to swim into view. The man was around eighty or so, and wore thick glasses.
“Jason?” the man said. “Look at you. Jason Crane. All grown up. Bet you don’t recognize me.”
Jason did recognize… something – something to do with Halloween. The man reminded Jason of Halloween on the year his parents died. Jason had worn a vampire costume and this man had – had hammered some wood together and staked him through the heart. He was much smaller than he’d been, or Jason was much larger, but this was definitely –
“Grandpa John?”
The old man nodded and opened his arms.
Jason laughed. He paused on the way to the door and said, “Hey, Hadewych, maybe I do have other options, after all.”
Sleepy Hollow: Rise Headless and Ride Page 30