What Happened to Anna?

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What Happened to Anna? Page 15

by Jennifer Robins


  John gathered the heavy tools in his arms while she took the blanket and small items. They started trudging back through the tall grass and weeds. Luckily the moon, full and bright, lit the earth below well enough for them to see without the flashlights and find their way back to the almost hidden grave of Anna Dickens. They stepped over broken branches and limbs while carrying their heavy load.

  The lantern dangled from Andrea’s wrist, hitting the side of her thigh while she balanced the blanket, flashlights, and thermos in her arms. In front of her, John stumbled and dropped the shovel. “This is too much to carry.” He set the large pick down. “Wait a minute. I’m going to leave some of this here and come back for it after we’re settled.”

  Andrea nodded. She was having enough trouble carrying the things she had. “Just set it up against that high monument, so you can find it easily when you return.” He leaned the pick against a statue of an angel that stood almost as tall as he.

  The light of the moon cast shadows, making some of the monuments appear to move. The shadows themselves seemed to travel among the many headstones as if they were alive. Even the trees seemed to bend and twist as if they objected to the presence of the living. Soon, they passed by the broken fence surrounding the Holden family plot. Now Andrea knew they were close. Though she was afraid, she also felt an overwhelming sense of excitement as they drew nearer to the rear of the cemetery. At last, she would discover a very important part of the life and death of Anna Dickens.

  “Over there, John, in that direction.” She pointed to the area ahead.

  A small piece of fencing hanging by a thread swung back and forth in the breeze. Its squeaking pierced the air. From a distant tree came the hooting of an owl. It was just like Andrea had imagined it—like a scary movie. Cool air swept across the cemetery, just enough to make the blades of grass sway. The wind hummed as if the dead were whispering. Andrea tried not to let her imagination take over, but it was not easy in these surroundings.

  The two intruders went on until they came to the end of the cemetery, where Anna’s grave lay silently waiting. Andrea lagged behind while John went on ahead at a much greater pace. “It’s here someplace,” he muttered. “Come on, I need you to hold the flashlight so we can find that stone.”

  She hurried forward. Coming up close behind him, she fumbled with one of the flashlights as she tried to turn it on. “Wait a minute, John. I can’t get this thing on.” She set the blanket and the thermos on the ground, then turned the switch and shined it ahead for John. “Can you see the stone?”

  He turned around in circles, trying to locate the gravesite. “Over there. Point the light that way. I think that’s where it is.”

  There it was, the small stone barely visible above the high grass. They walked to it. John set the tools on the ground and bent down to uncover the stone, while Andrea aimed the flashlight at it. “Yeah, this is it, Andrea.” Then he stood up. “Go get the blanket and spread it out over there.” He pointed to an area several feet away from the grave. She hurried to the spot and threw the blanket down. “Sit down while I go get the rest of the tools,” he told her.

  His silhouette melted into in the darkness. Even the light of his flashlight faded and disappeared. She tried to distract her attention from her frightening surroundings by lighting the lantern and pouring a cup of coffee. She took a sip and began to look around. Dark clouds had suddenly formed overhead and moved slowly across the sky, getting closer to the moon. Gradually, they covered one half of it, making the night much darker.

  She watched for John to return, only taking her eyes off the horizon long enough to turn up the wick on the lantern for more light. The cry of the owl seemed much closer and louder now. All the sounds in the night seemed to be suddenly amplified. She could almost hear the grass as it swayed back and forth. Something flying overhead caught her attention — most likely a bat, but she wasn’t sure and didn’t really want to know. “Come on, John, get back here,” she whispered. A soft wind brushed her face like hidden fingers in the night.

  A light came from the direction John had gone. “Is that you, John?” she shouted. Only silence came back at her. Again she shouted, “John, is that you?”

  She heard a rustling noise and then a thump, like something had dropped on the ground. At last, John’s voice came out loud and clear. “Bring that other flashlight over here, Andrea. I can’t see anything with this one. I almost broke my neck stumbling around with all this stuff”

  Relieved, she hurried and held the light out for him. “Is that better? What did you drop?”

  “The shovel.”

  Andrea offered to get it and told him to go on. She picked it up and followed him back to the blanket. As he stood over the small stone, he started up the weed trimmer. It had gotten darker, the clouds covering most of the moon. “I hope those clouds don’t mean rain,” he said as he looked up at the sky. “If it does rain, we quit and go home.” His words had a tone of wishful thinking in them.

  That wasn’t what Andrea wanted to hear. She was nervous enough without thinking he would use a little rain as an excuse to give it all up. “The weather report didn’t call for rain,” she said with sarcasm.

  He held the trimmer while he instructed Andrea to direct the flashlight beam toward the grass he would cut. Then he swung the heavy tool in a sweeping motion. Grass flew through the air. Repeatedly he swept it down into the overgrowth. Soon he had the area leveled enough to dig into the earth. Andrea helped him remove the cut grass from the gravesite, and then went to where the thermos sat and poured cups of coffee for them.

  He sat down on the blanket, trying to bring the light up in the lantern, but it would only go so high. The clouds had completely covered the moon. He continued to adjust the lantern as he drank his coffee. When he looked back at the sky, he remarked, “There don’t seem to be any other clouds but that one over the moon. Let’s hope it moves real soon, but I’m not gonna wait. The light we have will do.” He stood and grabbed the shovel. “This is ridiculous; it’s time we get this over with.”

  Holding the shovel firmly with both hands, he drove it into the dirt. “This ground isn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” he said as he pushed the shovel down a second time. Andrea was relieved to know the task might be a little easier for him than previously predicted. That meant John would carry through with his commitment.

  He continued to dig while she held the light for him. After two hours, she began to get tired and sat on the ground by the grave. She set the lantern beside her and held the flashlight on the area.

  He had gone down about three feet and squared it off as he dug deeper into the earth. “It’s getting deeper. This layer is more like clay. Get me the pick so I can break some of this up.”

  The cloud that had covered the moon moved, and the lunar globe shone down once again on the land, providing the much needed light. Shadows moved along the rows of monuments in a rhythmical dance.

  Thirty minutes later, he finally took a break and joined Andrea on the blanket. “I don’t think it will be much longer before I reach the casket. I wonder what shape it’s in after all these years?”

  His interest surprised her. “We’ll find out when we get to it. I’m going to help you dig.” She went to the edge of the grave and climbed down with the shovel in hand. She was overwhelmed with excitement and pleased that John was no longer complaining. She had been afraid he’d give her a hard time throughout the entire night. Instead, he seemed as curious as she was.

  Another hour passed. They had dug down about five feet and still hadn’t reached the casket. Andrea’s arms and back began to hurt. John had joined her with the pick to break up the soil as they dug deeper and deeper. She stopped and put the shovel back up on ground level. “I have to rest, John,” she said as she climbed out of the cavity.

  John needed a break also. He came to the blanket and sat next to her. She poured cups of coffee for them, and he held the cup up in the air and toasted her. “Here’s to my dear wife, who c
an get me to do anything.” He snickered at her.

  She didn’t find that very funny, but she smiled and kept herself in a congenial mood. On a more serious note, John began to question her. “What happens if we find that this grave is empty? I just hope there is a corpse in there, but if there isn’t…what happens then, Andrea?”

  “I don’t know, John. If she’s not there… Well, that means something strange happened to her. If she is in there, I guess I’ve been wrong about some things.”

  “That’s right, Andrea. You agreed to move if we find this Anna’s remains here,” he said as he pointed to the grave. “I hope you live up to your agreement.” He didn’t know what she’d do if the coffin was empty, but he was almost sure she’d want to go on looking into the life of this woman. “You know this woman lived some hundred years ago. What more can you learn about her?”

  He watched her facial expression as he spoke. He could see her getting upset with him, so he changed the subject. “Well, time to get back to it.” He stood and went to resume the dig.

  The mound of dirt next to the grave grew higher and higher with each scoop of the shovel. Suddenly, the blade thumped against something. John poked at it again — another thump. Andrea’s heart quickened. She stood up. “What is it?” she cried.

  “I think it’s the casket. Come over here and hold the light up so I can see it better.”

  She rushed to the opening and shined the light from both flashlights down where he stood. “Is it the casket?”

  “I don’t know. I think it is, but I have to clear away more of the dirt to take a good look.” He sounded excited, too. Andrea could hear the shovel scraping across a hard surface. This was the very moment she had been waiting for. Soon, they would know the truth.

  John’s voice echoed in the night as he declared, “Yes, this is it. I’ll need to clear the dirt away and dig down around the edges. It feels like it’s a wooden lid. There might be a few soft spots, but it seems pretty solid.”

  John began to tap it to see just how solid it was. Andrea stood at the top of the grave, watching. After a century in the ground, much of the wood had probably petrified.

  The wind kicked up and whistled across the cemetery. The full moon hung directly overhead. The darkness of the night was enough to make anyone take a hasty departure, but they stayed fast to their mission.

  “The nails are fixed tight. I need something to pry them up. I have a hammer in the trunk of the car. I’ll go get it.” John climbed out of the grave and walked over to the blanket. With a flashlight in hand, he started in the direction of the car.

  Andrea sat on the blanket and watched him disappear into the darkness. It gave her a chill knowing she’d be left there alone. The wind whipped through the trees, making every shadow dance around her like a potential threat. Every sound seemed to be a warning of something evil. She wanted to hide, but there was no place to go. She chewed a fingernail as she waited for John, and sighed with relief when the light of his flashlight appeared in the distance.

  With the hammer in his hand, John stepped carefully down into the open grave. “Hold the light, Andrea. I’m going to try to pry up these nails.” She couldn’t get over how excited he’d become. She wondered if he was just in a hurry to get it over with, or if he was really interested. It seemed like the latter.

  John struggled to get the nails loose from the lid. The screeching of metal against wood reverberated from the open grave. Andrea grew impatient as time went by. She fidgeted while he continued to try to open the lid to the casket. Like a child ready to jump with excitement, she stood looking down into the hole in the earth. “Are you making any progress?”

  “I almost have it. There’s a lot of dirt crumbling in on me.” A few minutes later, he finally made the announcement. “Okay, it’s loose.” He climbed out of the opened grave and stood straight as he stretched his arms above his head. “I’m going to see if I can lift the lid to one side. Shine the light down into the grave so I can see what I’m doing.”

  Taking the shovel, he knelt by the opening and lowered it into the grave. He could barely reach the edge of the lid, so he lay on his stomach to increase his reach. He pushed hard with the shovel against the side of the lid, giving it all the strength he had. “This isn’t working,” he said, as he got to his feet. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief he took from his back pocket. “I don’t know about this. It’s going to take some doing to get that casket open.”

  Andrea held up the pick. “Here, try this from the other side. Maybe you can pull it up toward you.”

  He took it and circled around, climbing down into the hole. He fitted the blade of the pick under the lip of the casket lid. With one pull, he lifted the lid up. Andrea shined the light down into the cavity while he secured the lid to a near-by tree with a piece of rope.

  John returned to her side and asked her for the flashlight. He lay down on his stomach at the side of the opening, shining the beam inside of the casket. Andrea stepped back and held her breath. Finally, John spoke. “Come over here, Andrea.”

  She slowly approached the damp, musty grave. He moved the beam of the flashlight back and forth over the interior of the open casket. The night sounds grew, as if amplified. Andrea drew a deep breath as she looked into the empty tomb. No corpse, no skeleton, just the debris of wood broken from the lid. All of her suspicions were true.

  With a sense of accomplishment she went to the blanket and sat down. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she thought about the crying she’d heard in the house — the crying that came without question from Anna. Her nerves jumped and her heartbeat hastened. She could hardly breathe.

  She watched John as he continued to look down into the empty casket, then he climbed down into the grave. Andrea heard him brushing something and tried to see what it was, but the depth of the hole made it too dark, even with the flashlight’s beam. Soon, he climbed out of the grave and walked over to Andrea. “I found something,” he said as he approached her.

  She looked up at him. “What is it?” she murmured as she held out her hand.

  He hesitated a little before he set something small and cold in her palm. Immediately, Andre choked up. The object gleamed in the moonlight. “The ring!” she shouted. “The same one in the painting and in my visions, the one in my dreams. Oh, John, this ring…” She caught her breath. “It belonged to Anna. I just knew it.” She began to cry again, sobbing uncontrollably.

  He sat next to her and tried to comfort her. “Don’t let this get to you so much. There has to be an explanation.” He put his arm around her shoulder. “Take it easy, babe.” He wiped her face with his handkerchief. “That wasn’t all I found.”

  She clutched the ring in her hand as she looked up at him through tear-filled eyes. “What else?”

  “I’m not sure. It looks like an old ledger.” He held it up to show her. They both looked at the remains of the leather-bound book, still intact but musty and darkened. “It’s too dark to read it, and it looks like it’s ready to fall apart. I’ll put it in my shirt so it won’t get messed up.” He took his shirt off and wrapped the ledger. His white undershirt seemed to glow against the darkness.

  Andrea held the ring tightly against her chest. Slowly, she opened her hand and put the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly, like it had been made for her. She held her hand out to gaze at it. It sparkled in the glow of the lantern.

  John went back to the open grave. “I need your help, Andrea. We have to get this grave filled in and get out of here. It’s getting close to sun up, and I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.”

  Closing the grave wouldn’t be as difficult as opening it had been. John started right away with the shovel, working with exceptional speed. The moon had moved across the sky, no longer overhead. The shift of the light made the shadows even longer than before. John turned the lantern up, but it didn’t help much. The remainder of the night wrapped around them.

  Andrea took the ring and put it in her pocket. She picked up
a shovel and began to help John fill in the grave. With tears still streaming down her cheeks, she worked diligently alongside her husband. The grave had to be filled in and packed down before they could leave the cemetery.

  Daylight had begun to creep up from the horizon as they pounded the last shovelful of dirt down on the disturbed grave. Gathering all they could carry, they made their way back to the car. John had to make a second trip to retrieve the rest of the tools. Once again he left Andrea alone.

  Shaking all over, she reached in her pocket, took the ring out, and put it on her finger. Strange feelings came over her as she stared down at the sparkling evidence of what she’d once thought only a vision. Sorrow overwhelmed her. She got out of the car and shouted, “John? John!”

  He came running, hopping over the overgrowth and large stones in his path. “What’s the matter?” he shouted.

  Through her sobs, she said, “I don’t know. I just feel so frightened. I want to get out of here.” She trembled all over.

  He hurried to put the tools in the trunk. Soon he had the car on the gravel road, taking them away from the cemetery and Anna’s empty grave. Moments later, the light from the rising sun began to brighten the sky. John’s concern for Andrea grew deeper. As they drove along, she hardly took her eyes off of the ring. She didn’t say a word.

  John looked over at her. “It’s a beautiful ring, all right. I bet it’s worth some money.” There was no response from Andrea. He tried to stir her again. “Now that this is over, and we know this woman isn’t buried in that grave, what are you going to do next?”

  She remained speechless. He became a little testy with her. “I’ll tell you this much, I’m not going to be talked into any more of your ideas. I still think we should sell the house and get out of there.”

 

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