Digging to China

by Louise Corum

  John took it hesitantly and almost gasped when he saw who it was. It was Elka at a very young age, maybe around fifteen? Sixteen? She was beautiful and smiling at the camera, dressed in a pretty blue dress and barefoot, as if she’d just slipped off her shoes to walk in the soft summer grass. She was standing by a pine tree, her hand casually resting on the trunk. Her hair was long and flowing and her eyes alert. This was before she went over the edge, John thought to himself. He had never been able to remember her before it had happened, but he knew, as he studied the picture of his sister, that this was probably taken just prior to whatever happened that drove her over the edge.

  “Pretty girl, ain’t she?” the man asked.

  John jerked up and stared at him, glaring at him. “Where did you get this?”

  “I reckon my brother took it of her,” he said.

  How could that be? Elka wasn’t allowed to leave the house and she certainly wasn’t allowed to pose for random boys’ cameras. Or was that before she went crazy? It was all becoming a blur, and, as usual, John’s memory was trapped in confusion.

  “You’re wrong about that,” John told him. “She wasn’t allowed to see boys.”

  “She saw him,” he quipped, then added, “Quite a bit.”

  John’s eyes narrowed at him. “No, you’re mistaken. At that age, she would have been too young. My father was very strict.”

  “Well, that ain’t the story I’ve been hearing from this old fella my brother used to be running buddies with.”

  John was curious. “What old fella?”

  “His name don’t matter,” he said. “But it was Bob something-or-another.”

  John’s eyes went back to the picture. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. He was studying it when the man abruptly snatched it out of his hand, then laid it beside him on the couch, then put his leg over it, perhaps in an attempt to keep John from taking it. John was about to say something to him, to demand it back, but then thought better of it and let it go.

  “Well, I met this fella in a bar downtown a few nights ago and he’s real drunk, see?” he continued. “Well, he starts jabbering about when he was a boy and whatnot and the next thing I know, he’s talking about…” He stopped abruptly.

  John leaned forward when he paused, then was annoyed when he didn’t continue. He eyed him, then saw that he had his gaze fixed upon the door. John turned to see Kathleen standing in the doorway. She was staring at the man, then she turned to John.

  “Honey?” she said and smiled. “I didn’t know you were… Who is this?”

  John said, “This is Amos O’Neill. He… He just needed to stop by to discuss a few things.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “Can I get you gentlemen a drink?”

  “No,” John said. “But thank you—”

  “I’ll have a scotch or anything you might have on hand, ma’am,” Amos told her.

  “Certainly,” she said and went to the liquor cabinet and prepared a drink. She looked over her shoulder at John. “Sweetheart? How about a drink?”

  He sighed and said, “Sure, that would be nice.”

  She prepared the other drink, then brought both over to them. After they took the glasses, she smoothed the back of her skirt before sitting down. John couldn’t help but smile at her. She took her role as “lady of the house” so seriously. She’d transformed into such a lady, it was uncanny, though he was glad that she retained most of her simple charms when they were alone.

  “Please continue,” she said. “Don’t mind me.”

  John swallowed and said, “Dear, this is about business. I’m sorry but I have to ask you to let us discuss this in private.”

  “Oh!” she exclaimed and shot up off the couch. “I didn’t know! I am so sorry!”

  “It’s fine,” John said and smiled at her.

  “Will Mr. O’Neill be staying for dinner?” she asked.

  “No,” John said and glanced at the man, who had been more than prepared to accept the invitation. His head dropped.

  “Oh, alright then,” she said and started to leave the room. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to your business.”

  ‘Thank you for the drink, ma’am,” Amos said and held it up. “It’s mighty fine.”

  She smiled at him and said, “You’re welcome and if you’d like another, perhaps my husband could do the honors.”

  John grimaced at little and then smiled at her. “I’d be more than happy to.”

  Amos rose up half-way off the couch as she backed out of the room. As he did so, unknown to him, the picture of Elka flew off the couch and landed on the rug near his foot. John didn’t say anything.

  “Nice meeting you, ma’am,” he said and gave her a little wave.

  “You too, Mr. O’Neill,” she said and smiled again.

  Before he sat down, he glanced out the window, paused and said, “What’s that boy doing?”

  “Excuse me?” she asked.

  He pointed at the window then got up and went to it. “That boy there is tearing up your yard.”

  “That’s okay,” she said and laughed a little.

  As soon as Amos was up, John covered the picture with his foot and slid it under the coffee table so he could retrieve it later.

  “Okay?” Amos said as if he couldn’t fathom someone digging up the yard as being okay in anyone’s eyes.

  “Oh, it’s fine,” Kathleen laughed. “He’s just digging to China.”

  “Digging to China?”

  She nodded and joined him at the window. “My little darling is a little on the rambunctious side, Mr. O’Neill. And he likes yard work. So, I send him outside whenever he needs a little… Something to keep him busy.”

  He stared at her with curiosity.

  “See,” she said. “One day he was bored and I couldn’t think of a thing to keep him occupied. I was in the garden planting, you see, and he was digging up everything that I was trying to plant. So, I gave him that little shovel and put him in that spot and told him that if he dug long enough, he’d eventually get to China.”

  John yawned. He’d heard this story a thousand times. All of little Ray’s activities were discussed in detail every night at the dinner table.

  “And that keeps him busy?” Amos asked.

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “He’ll go get his boots on and go to the backdoor and say, ‘Mommy, I’m going to dig to China.’”

  They laughed. John got up and said, “Darling, if you don’t mind, this matter needs a resolution soon.”

  She gave him a little glare, then said, “Of course. Again, it was nice to meet you, Mr. O’Neill. Do come by again.”

  John tried not to grimace and gave her a tight smile as she finally exited. He sat back down and motioned Amos over, but he ignored him and went to the liquor cabinet for another drink.

  “Can we get this over with, please?” John asked.

  Amos said, “Sure, sure,” and came back to the couch with a fresh drink. He paused and jerked around a little, as if looking for something, then bent and looked under the coffee table, muttered something to himself and retrieved the picture of Elka. He shook his head and put it on the coffee table and took a long sip of his drink.

  John contained his anger at him doing that, but managed to mutter, “Go on, Mr. O’Neill.”

  “As I was saying,” Amos said and reclined back. “You sure do got a pretty wife there, sir.”

  “Yes, she’s quite beautiful,” he said.

  “A little young, isn’t she?”

  John glared at him. “She’s a little young, yes, but I don’t know what her age has to do with any of this.”

  “I don’t reckon it does,” he said and downed the rest of his drink. “Cute boy, too. How old is he?”

  John gritted his teeth and said, “He’ll turn four next year. Now can you go on with your story?”

  “I can and I will,” he said and took a swig of his drink. “Well, as I was saying, this old guy, Bob something-or-another, was jabbering about knowing
my brother.” He paused for a second. “Did I tell you my brother disappeared when he was about seventeen or so?”

  “No, you didn’t,” John said. “What happened to him?”

  “Nobody knows,” he said. “He went out one day and never came back, you see.”

  John nodded. “Sorry to hear about that.”

  “My mama was too,” he said and leaned forward, placing the empty glass on the coffee table. “Anyway, this here man, Bob, asks me my name, I tell him and he says he was running buddies with my brother. Do you mind if I get another drink? I get choked up talking about my brother.”

  “I’ll get it for you,” John said and took the glass and went over to the liquor cabinet where he poured another drink. He took it back, handed it to the man and sat back down.

  The man drank it down greedily, then smacked his lips. “So, this man and my brother, well, they knew each other when they were young. He starts talking and the next thing I know, he says he knows my brother got killed.”

  John’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

  He nodded. “And he says he thinks he knows who might have done it.”

  John nodded with uncertainty. “Okay.”

  “He said he thinks it was a girl named Elka Cashman,” he said and picked up the picture of Elka and held it in front of him. “This here girl is Elka Cashman.”

  John felt like someone had punched him in the stomach and he suddenly felt ill. There seemed to be an emotional upset going on in his body, too. Things were threatening him, something was coming up inside of his belly and it was going to drive him mad. He stopped it just in time and caught his breath.

  “You alright?” Amos asked.

  John nodded and held his stomach. “It must have been lunch; it didn’t set well with me.”

  Amos nodded. “So, of course, I grew up around here and knew about your family and all, so I got to asking around about your sis. Nobody knows nothing about her except that she’s mentally ill. No one knew about her and my brother, either. They courted, you see.”

  “I don’t believe your brother ever courted my sister,” John said. “As I said, my father wouldn’t let her out of his sight.”

  He shrugged and grinned. “Girls can be awful sneaky.”

  “Watch your mouth,” John hissed. “You don’t want to talk like that, friend. My sister’s not that kind of person.”

  His eyebrows rose but he backed off. “I tell you what I think about all this. I think your sis killed my brother and that’s what—”

  “How dare you?” John snapped. “Who the hell do you think you are coming into my house spinning stories about your brother and my sister? She didn’t even know him. You’re lying and telling stories in order to raise a little money for your next spree. I won’t have it, I tell you. I won’t have you do this to me. I’ll have you thrown in jail for slander.”

  Of course, he knew you couldn’t get someone thrown in jail for slander, but Amos didn’t know that.

  “I believe she did it,” he said evenly. “In fact, I know she did.”

  “You don’t know anything,” John hissed. “You just figured this all out and then got the nerve to come here and try to blackmail me with something that may or may not have happened? Could it hold up in a court of law? Do you have the murder weapon or even a motive?”

  “She killed him, I know she did,” he said and pointed at John. “And just you wait and see. I’ll prove it.”

  “Prove it, then,” he said. “And then what? What are you going to do to her? Have her thrown in jail? Well, it might be a change of pace for her, you see, as she’s in a mental institution right now. Perhaps they will drag her out of there to stand trial on a murder that never even happened just so you can get satisfaction.”

  “Mister, you don’t scare me with your fancy talk,” he said and shook his head. “My brother—”

  “Your brother went missing years ago,” John said. “And you think that because some old drunk in a bar somewhere said he knew my sister automatically means she’s the one who committed the murder? You don’t even have a body! How could you have a trail without a body? Are you insane? For all you know, he got drunk and fell and hit his head somewhere. Maybe he ran off and joined the army or the circus, for that matter.”

  He leapt up off the couch. “Don’t you talk about my brother like that!”

  “Oh, but it’s okay for you to call my sister a murderer?” he asked. “And by the looks of you, your brother was probably a drunk, too.”

  “You son of a bitch,” he hissed.

  “Now why don’t you tell me the real purpose of your little visit?” John asked. “What do you want?”

  Amos calmed down and said, “I think a few thousand, or ten, might do.”

  “You want me to pay you ten-thousand dollars for something that didn’t happen?”

  “Somebody hurt him,” he said. “And I got a suspicion it was your sis.”

  “My sister wouldn’t hurt a flea,” he said and tried not to remember the mad rages she would go into. He added, “She’s very delicate and sickly, you see.”

  “So where is she?” he asked. “Where’s this institution?”

  “That is none of your concern,” he said and stood. “Now I believe it’s about time for you to make your exit.”

  Amos huffed and went to the door. He turned and said, “This ain’t the last you’ll see of me.”

  “Oh, it is,” John said. “If you ever cross onto my property again, I will have you arrested for trespassing. And if you ever even speak my sister’s name again, I will assure you that you will regret it.”

  “I ain’t afraid of you,” he said.

  “You better be,” John snarled. “Don’t cross me. Now get out.”

  He huffed and stomped out of the room, across the foyer and then through the front door, leaving it open. John watched him disappear down the sidewalk and hobble away. John walked over to the door, shut it and then leaned on it, breathing heavily. He thought about Amos’s accusation and what it meant. But he couldn’t be sure if the man was even telling the truth. John’s knowledge of that time was hazy, at best.

  “What did that man want?”

  John looked up to see Kathleen. She smiled a little at him and he smiled back, regaining his composure. “Oh nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “He was drunk,” he told her. “And he stumbled by here. Probably just wanted to shoot the breeze and finagle a way to get a few dollars for more whiskey.”

  “Did you give him any?”

  “I did not,” he said. “Maybe I should have.”

  “Yeah,” she said and smiled when he put his arms around her waist. “Maybe he would have spent it on a bath.”

  She laughed. John joined her as much as he could. He didn’t really feel like laughing, not after that.

  John’s eyes went to the sitting room and to the couch where the man had sat, then to the coffee table where the picture of Elka lay. Amos hadn’t mentioned the picture and must have forgotten it in his anger. Good enough.

  “I’ll go start dinner,” Kathleen said and gave him a peck on the cheek before disappearing into the kitchen.

  John stared after her, then walked quickly into the sitting room and retrieved the picture of Elka. He stared at it and thought about what the man had said. Scenarios played in his mind. Could Elka have done something like that? She wasn’t capable of killing someone, was she? He thought about it, studying her eyes in the picture which were so happy and full of life, so sane. Something had happened. Something bad had happened between her and this James character, the one who supposedly had taken the picture. But what? Could it be true? Was it?

  John shook his head and shook all the thoughts out, willing them to not reappear. Then he put the picture of his sister in his wallet, closed it softly and slipped it into his back pocket.

  *

  The man, Amos, never came back. John figured as much and didn’t even really give him or his accusations much thought. Truth be tol
d, he didn’t want to think about it. Another year or so passed and he couldn’t believe how miserable he used to be. Maybe time did heal all wounds or, perhaps, it just made them more bearable. It was as if it had happened to another person and not him. Sometimes he would catch himself thinking about Elka and though he did feel remorse, he felt that it was surreal, that maybe it hadn’t happened. Was it true? Was she ever alive? Who was she? She’d once dominated his thoughts and his life but now he rarely thought about her. He couldn’t even remember the exact place where he’d buried her.

  Things were good; they were great. John was happy with his wife and child and life. Amos might not ever grace his door again, but he’d brought something with him, an old secret that still haunted John from time to time, a secret he tried not to think about, lest he get the urge to confess. That thing, that secret that Amos had hinted at was still lurking around the house. What, exactly, had happened? Would John ever know? He didn’t even know if he wanted to know. If he knew, it might threaten to tear apart everything he had built. He decided that Elka wasn’t capable of such things and that the man was drunk and probably crazy himself.

  And so he went back to his life. Things were good. And John was satisfied that they would stay good as long as he kept his mouth shut.

  Would You Like to Know What Happened?

  When John got home that day, he saw that the police had the house surrounded. He immediately knew what was going on. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew it was about Elka. It was true, wasn’t it? The ties that bind are also the ties that can break a person. The bonds are unbreakable as much as they are a curse.

  Kathleen had told the police, “I don’t know what got into Ray this morning but he told me he wanted to play in the yard. Well, I had a lot to do and it was such a lovely day. I checked on him every once in a while and he just sat there, digging. Well, he always digs, that’s his thing to do. He likes to dig to China. I lost track of time and then heard him calling for me. When I went out there, he was holding up something and said, ‘Mommy, what is this?’ It was a gold necklace with a little mermaid on it. I had never seen it before, then I looked over at the hole he had dug and I saw her. I screamed and grabbed Ray and ran into the house. I tried calling John but he was out of the office all day.”