Amazing Grace

by Lesley Crewe

  As I walk towards where I think the entrance to the path used to be, I’m suddenly not so sure of my hypothesis. It’s all changed. I don’t recognize anything.

  “I’m sorry…this is very different. It’s been a long time.”

  Chief Howard doesn’t seem worried. “It will come back to you. Take your time.”

  Stop freaking out and focus! I try to judge where the tree house used to be. When I look over my shoulder, I realize I can use the barn as a landmark. It was farther away from the bog than this, so I keep walking, everyone else trailing behind me. Going on instinct alone, I take a step into the woods.

  The first time my sister and I go to the bog, our mom takes us there. She makes us run faster and faster, telling us to hurry up. I laugh with delight as we tear through the woods, stumbling on the wet ground as we wave branches out of the way.

  “Over here!”

  We hide behind an outcropping of rock and then sit, leaning against the warm hard surface.

  My heart races. “Did I do good, Mama?”

  She nods. “You’re the fastest.”

  “I can run faster than the devil himself.”

  My sister turns on me. “Shut up, Grace. You can not.”

  “I’m Amazing, thank you very much! Amazing girls can do anything!”

  Suddenly I’m at the rock, with no recollection of how I got here. “There’s the bog.” I point.

  “We’ll take it from here,” Chief Howard says. “I want you to go back to the house and we’ll keep you updated.”

  “Can’t I stay here?”

  Fletcher takes me by the shoulders. “Let them do their job. Come with me.”

  I follow Fletch and Jonathan back out of the woods as the workers and equipment roll in. The owner of the house comes over to us.

  “Are you sure I’ll be compensated for the damage to my property? They’ll have to push trees over to get that thing in there.”

  Jonathan says, “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll take care of it.”

  Yet more money he’s handing out like candy. What am I doing to everyone?

  The lady of the house asks if we’d like to sit on the porch while we wait. She even gives us cups of coffee, but then she retreats inside and leaves us be.

  We don’t talk to each other, just listen to the machinery endlessly grind away deep in the woods. The tension is unbearable. I have to move. I go down into the yard and wander aimlessly, keeping my mind blank. There’s a horse in the field by the barn, eating grass by the fence. He ignores me until I tear a handful of weeds and hold it out to him. He comes over with a lazy step and his soft lips nuzzle the palm of my hand.

  “Hello, you.”

  He lets me pat his nose and forelock while I breath in his wonderful horsey smell. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Just being close to this creature makes me feel better. I’m not even sure how long I stand with him.

  The machinery stops.

  Fletcher and Jon stand up on the porch. I run over to them. All of us stare at the woods, willing someone to come and tell us what’s happening. Eventually we sit down again; it’s almost an hour before Chief Howard walks out from among the trees and heads our way. I descend the porch stairs and walk towards him.

  When he gets close enough, he takes me by my shoulders. “We found her.”

  He steadies me when my knees buckle. My head falls onto his chest.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  Jonathan leaves for home the next day. Fletcher and I will wait here for the forensic reports and for my mother’s remains to be released and cremated.

  “I will never forget that you were with me when we found my mother, your grandmother. It made a terrible day a little less painful.”

  “I’m glad I could help.” He gives me a big hug and then reaches out to hug Fletcher as well. “I’ll call when I get back to New York. Keep me posted and let me know when you guys finally make it home.”

  “Will do.”

  He gives us one more wave before he jumps in the taxi that will take him to the airport.

  Fletcher and I go back to our hotel room. The television’s on but we’re not watching, just lying on the beds, trying to absorb what’s happened. I sleep a lot, which Fletch says is a good thing. “You’re mentally exhausted. You need to rest.”

  Three days after we find my mother, Chief Howard calls us to meet him at the station, which we do. He says her remains have been sent to the funeral home, and the undertaker is waiting for our instructions.

  “As near as we can tell from the autopsy, your mother was probably strangled before he put her body in the bog.”

  I nod sadly. “That’s what I thought.”

  “Now, do you want to be involved in this investigation? It will be tough to prosecute, seeing as how it happened so long ago and the only witness is now dead.”

  “I’m not going to immerse myself in this for one more second. My mother is coming home with me. I’ve already brought my sister home. That’s all the resolution I need. He’s in jail where he belongs. Although there is one thing I’d like to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  “See him one last time.”

  Chief Howard looks at me. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I want to look in his eyes when I tell him I know he murdered my mother.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chief Howard is my hero. While Fletcher waits in the rental car in the parking lot of the Central East Correctional Centre in Lindsay, Ontario, I’m in a waiting room with other visitors trying to keep my mind blank so I don’t hyperventilate. We’re escorted into a room with tables, the chairs on opposite sides. The prisoners are escorted in single file and join their relatives right away. Ed Wheeler shows up at the door and looks around.

  Seeing him so old and pathetic helps me. He’s a wreck, his disgusting deeds etched all over his face. The prison guard points in my direction. I’m in the chair when he shuffles over and takes a seat. He has no idea who I am, at least not for the first few moments—and then my silver hair must trigger a memory, because his eyes are suddenly wary. He’s still a cagey bastard, playing this meek old man, but his eyes are the same as they always were, black wells of nastiness.

  “You know who I am, don’t you? Grace Fairchild, from the compound.”

  “Never heard of her.”

  “You know who I am. Amazing Grace, the little girl you tortured for your own pleasure. You know my sister Ave Maria, another child you forced yourself on. Maria is a successful, beautiful woman, and she told me that you killed our mother, Trixie Fairchild. Surely you remember Trixie? You used to pull her out of our room almost every night.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “You strangled my mother when you found out she was going to run away. You killed her and threw her in the bog. Maria saw you do it. She was hidden behind the rock.”

  His body tenses up and he glares at me. “That’s a lie.”

  “Guess what? We found her body there just a few days ago. The police know you did it. And after Maria and I haul your ass into court and prove it, you are going to spend the rest of your life in jail.”

  “You have no proof that I did it. Why’re you still so interested in me? You keep coming back. Must mean you liked it.”

  “I came here to tell you that you didn’t win. You didn’t get away with it. You didn’t get one over on me. You and I and Maria all know what you did to my mother, and you will pay for that, whether it’s in this lifetime or the next. Now, why don’t you slither out of here and go back to the prison cell that makes up your world, you disgusting piece of shit.”

  I stand up, gather myself, and spit right in his face.

  Then I walk out and never look back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  It’s the day of my mother’s b
urial.

  Trixie’s ashes will be interred in a plot beside her mother, Rose, her aunts Pearl and Mae, and her daughter, Maria. Five Fairchild women, together at last.

  Besides these five, and Fletcher’s Nan, (who makes six), seventeen other members of my family arrive to be with me today, including babies and the housekeeper.

  I count them over and over again. Six plus seventeen is twenty-three. Twenty-three people who belong to me. Me. A woman who thought she was alone in the world.

  It’s cold and there’s a stiff breeze in the cemetery. The pastor does his best to make himself heard. I told him to just stick to the basics. The entire village of Baddeck knows what happened to Trixie Fairchild, and we don’t need to be reminded of it. We’re not remembering how my mother died. We’re celebrating the fact that she is home where she belongs.

  We head back to the trailer where Dora, Janet, Gladys, and even Delima have a feast waiting for us.

  The joint is full to bursting and all I see are happy faces, kids crying, people laughing, and even some flirting. Linn has the church gals enthralled with her recipes, and the dogs are stealing food from everyone’s plates when they think people aren’t watching.

  Melissa asks if she can make a toast. Everyone gathers around.

  “I want to say how proud I am of my grandmother, Gee. She never gave up on any of us, and because of that Trixie and her posse are now in our lives forever. Aunt Pearl, Aunt Mae, Aunt Rose, Trixie, and Maria are celebrating the fact that we’re together today. So let’s raise our glasses to the Fairchild women!”

  “The Fairchild women!” everyone’s voices ring out.

  I hug Melissa.

  Fletcher makes eye contact and tosses his head towards the door. I grab a sweater and go outside with him.

  “Wanna walk up the hill?”

  “Yes.”

  The two of us head out arm in arm. The cold breeze has died down, thankfully. The sun is trying to shine through the clouds but it’s losing the battle. It’s late summer now, time for people to get back to those ordinary lives full of ordinary moments.

  Fletch and I sit in our Adirondack chairs and look down on our property. We can hear the shouts and merriment through the windows. Jeremy and Nate are outside throwing a football around while Juni cheers from the porch.

  My cell phone rings, and I glance at the screen. It’s the doctor. Pretend everything is normal. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Grace. It’s Frank.”

  “I know who it is. Tell me.”

  “It’s gone.”

  “Fuck right off!” I hit Fletch in the chest with my arm. He wasn’t expecting it.

  “Enjoy your party. See you in six months.”

  “You old dog! Thanks, Frank!”

  Fletcher gives me a look. “That was the doctor? And?”

  “I’m fine. It’s gone. See ya later, ya little bastards.”

  Fletch jumps up out of his chair and drags me with him.

  “Let’s go tell Trixie!” I say.

  “Not yet! This is our celebration.” He twirls me around and around, up on our hill. If anyone is watching, they’ll think we’re nuts.

  But Fletch and I have always danced to our own damn tune.