Nick of Time

by Julianne Q Johnson

  "Tell me again why you have come to us, man." Blue Vest says coldly.

  "Thank you, my lord," I manage. At a loss over how to be properly polite, I seem to be falling into an imitation of Camelot. "My great-grandfather, Ronan Brennon, caused…the fair folk…great distress when he failed to help another child escape from a bull."

  I pause briefly as the beings around me whisper to each other. "Because of his failure, you…placed a debt on his line. I have been paying the debt. I have helped many people in distress and I have helped animals as well. I humbly request my service be weighed against the debt, so I can know if the debt is paid."

  "Ronan Brennon was a lummox of a dog." Gold Chain is back and he's practically spitting on me when he speaks, he's so furious. "Through his clumsiness he caused a fair lad to be made lame. The boy was blessed by our people, but even we could not undo what was done to him because of this great histade."

  Gold Chain did spit then, on the floor when he said the word 'histade.' I have no idea what the word meant, but it must be damned bad.

  A new Sidhe with a gold circlet around her head slid into the middle of the group to face me. I wonder if she's the queen of these people. Though her face appears young and unlined, there is an eon of experience in her eyes. I feel for the first time the age of these beings. Though fierce of manner and expression, they are visibly youthful and graceful. I have the feeling this race is ancient, that the people standing around me were old when the first humans walked this isle.

  "The child was never the same after the accident," the new lady says, looking me up and down like I am a disgusting thing. "He died too young, even for a mortal. He had only thirty-three summers."

  "I understand why there is a debt, my lady. I have come to beg you weigh what I have done against this debt. I would please like to know if the debt has been discharged."

  "Mannerless pig," Gold Chain mutters.

  I have no idea what I've done or said to cause his further disdain. I'm doing my best to be patient and polite.

  "We might be persuaded to make a reckoning of the debt," Heather Faced Lady says, looking me up and down again. "If you complete the task I set for you, I will weigh your service against your debt."

  "Please, what can I do for you?"

  A boon, just as Teagan said. If I can give them this boon, then they will at least consider my plea. I suppose it is as much as I can expect. I can only hope the task they set for me will be in my power to do. If they want me to fly to the moon and bring them back a slice of cheese, I'm going to be out of luck.

  "I will weigh the debt," the lady says. "I will weigh the debt of Ronan Brennon against your years of service when you bring to me the bones of James McCleod and bury them on this hill."

  Twenty-Four

  "I beg your pardon?" There is no way I heard what I thought I heard.

  "I will weigh the debt of Ronan Brennon against your years of service when you bring to me the bones of James McCleod and bury them on this hill." Heather Faced Lady repeats the words slowly and carefully as if she is speaking to a particularly dimwitted child. Perhaps she is the queen and not the one wearing the circlet.

  I take a moment to consider the request as these tall and fierce beings stare at me. What kind of beings are these, with their glowing eyes, drape covered clothes, and weird jewelry? Every last one of them has a matching expression of aloof disdain while they regard me. It's unnerving. I feel like a wayward mouse in a room full of cats.

  The request itself is so outside my normal realm of experience I feel a bit lost. I thought grave robbing was something that only happened hundreds of years ago or on the screen of your local cinema. I don't suppose it's out of the question. Dig a hole, grab the bones, and bring them here. It's hardly a herculean task. It seems so disrespectful, though. Even though the Sidhe only want the bones because they wish to honor the man who died, taking them away from the cemetery where he is interred doesn't seem like the right thing to do. This man probably still has family in the area. Am I supposed to leave them to take flowers to an empty grave?

  Not to mention if I'm caught looting a grave in a foreign country they will stick me in a cell and throw away the key.

  I find I am willing to risk going to jail if it means a chance at getting control of my life back. What is making me hesitate is the guy's family ending up with an empty grave.

  "It is a simple task," Gold Chain snarls at me. I swear there are actual sparks coming from his eyes. "Why do you hesitate? Are you too much the pig to complete such a simple thing?"

  Standing a little taller, I ignore Gold Chain and address my words to the Queen herself. "My lady, my hesitation has nothing to do with my willingness to complete the task. The boy has a family. I dislike the idea of leaving them an empty grave to mourn."

  The Queen tilts her head as she listens to my words and then nods slightly. "Commendable. The child was blessed by the Fae, of course, he would be missed by his people. I believe a compromise is appropriate. You will bring us a portion of his bones so we may honor him. The rest you may leave at his mortal grave so his people may continue to honor him as well."

  My qualms vanish. Though it remains a difficult task, I have no moral objection to removing part of the remains. Distasteful as the job might be, I can do it.

  "That is more than fair. I will bring a portion of the boy's remains to the hill so he may be honored by all the people who cared for him."

  "So may it be." The words sound simple but the Queen's eyes grow dark as she speaks them. It's as if I can see the galaxy spinning in her strange eyes.

  The room under the hill vanishes as I start awake, jarring Daphne who has her head resting on my shoulder.

  "Oh, we fell asleep." Daphne rolls onto her back and looks up at the sky. "Nothing happened then. I was so hoping…well…we can always try again."

  Sitting up, I look around us. "I wouldn't say nothing happened."

  "What do you mean?" Daphne sits up as well, and then grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly.

  Except for two people and an empty hamper, the hill around us is bare. Everything we brought for the offering has vanished.

  I recount everything I can remember about my visit with the fair folk as we walk back to Hugh's truck. We are driving back to my cousin's house before I finish my tale.

  "So, we have to go rob a grave." Her matter of fact tone of voice seems at odds with the words coming out of her mouth.

  "I have to go rob a grave. There's no telling what will happen if the local cops find a foreigner desecrating a cemetery. I don't think you should go with me."

  "You didn't think I should come to Ireland either, and look how that turned out."

  "I know, and if you insist on coming with me, then you come. I only wanted to say I didn't expect you to take this kind of risk, and I'm happy to do it on my own."

  "I'm coming with you."

  "All right."

  I learned my lesson on this one. If Daphne insists on coming along, I'm not going to argue with her about it. To be honest, I'll be happier doing this with her along to help. I can't help wanting her to stay somewhere safe, though.

  "How are we going to do this?"

  "I guess we'll sneak out of the house late tonight like a couple of teenagers. We can walk to the cemetery. Damn, I guess we'll have to walk to the hill as well. It's only a couple of miles. No fun late in the dark, but I think my cousins will notice if we borrow the truck in the middle of the night."

  "It's not too far. We can walk it, but are you sure you want to? Couldn't we wait until morning to take the bones to the hill? It's not like there's a time limit and we have to hurry."

  "And risk being caught burying bones on a hill in broad daylight? I suppose we could, but let's play it by ear. If it doesn't take all night at the cemetery, I'd feel better getting those bones buried before the sun comes up.

  "Sounds like a plan."

  It's two in the morning before Daphne and I slip out of the back door of my cousin's house. There
are no streetlights and little light comes from the houses nearby. Tullaroan is a small town. There's none of the orange glow in the sky you get from living in a large city. Luckily for us, there's a huge and orange full moon which has recently risen over the fields. We can see well enough.

  I do have a small flashlight on me in case we need it. It's one of those little LED lights I keep on my key chain. Seems odd to have my keys jingling in my pocket again. I haven't been carrying them on the trip since everything they unlock is an ocean away.

  Once we close the door quietly behind us, we head for the small gardening shed in my cousin's backyard. I've got to find some sort of shovel if we have any chance of being grave robbers tonight. Since the cousins have a vegetable garden, I'm sure I'll find something that will work in the shed.

  It's pitch dark in the shed and my tiny flashlight comes in handy. Immediately next to the door, I find a small spade. It will do. It may take more time to dig up a grave than a larger shovel, but the spade will be less conspicuous if anyone sees us.

  On the way to the cemetery, we walk right down the middle of the road. It's easier to see and there isn't a single car this time of night, so why not? It's so quiet it's eerie. No cars, no sirens, no people, nothing. I'm used to living in a big city where there's always something going on. Tullaroan is a tiny place and it's a weeknight. There's no reason for anyone to be out and about unless they have an emergency.

  The newly risen moon is a large and orange disk in the sky which lights our way admirably. I've never seen so many stars in my life. The Milky Way is a visible band across the dome of the heavens. I don't get away from the city much. I used to go camping now and then when I was a kid, but turning eighteen and getting my so-called curse changed everything. I've always felt more comfortable closer to home where I know where all the hospitals are.

  Looking up at this amazingly crowded night sky, I think I should have taken a few more chances in my life. I didn't have to let the curse ruin everything. Sure, if I'd gone camping I might have had to save the odd person from an angry bear or something, but at least I would have gone camping.

  The small spade is slung over my shoulder. With no cars at all on the road, I'm not even trying to hide it. We walk pass the same farms and pastures we went by yesterday and every now and again I hear the soft bleat of a sheep or the lowing of a cow.

  "Do you think we'll be able to find it?" Daphne speaks in a low voice, almost whispering. Perhaps she doesn't want to disturb the quiet peace of the night.

  "We'll find it. It's not a very large cemetery." My voice also comes out softer than usual.

  "What's the guy's name again?"

  "James McCleod."

  "That's right…McCleod. And we're really going to dig him up?"

  "Well, not all of him. We only need a few bones."

  At the cemetery, we use my tiny flashlight to read one old headstone after another. Once we find a small section of McCleods, it isn't hard to find James. He was born in 1886 and died in 1918 at the age of thirty-two. The Sidhe were right; it was far too young.

  I had a simple plan to dig a hole down until I hit something. I wasn't planning to excavate the entire coffin unless it turned out to be metal. I don't know much about the history of coffins, but I'm guessing back in 1916 simple wooden coffins were more the norm. Just over a hundred years later and this particular wooden coffin may not even exist anymore.

  At least, that's what I hoped. I really don't want to try to dig up the entire grave.

  I estimate where the center of the plot was, and begin to cut the sod. Once I have an area cut about three feet by three feet, I lift the sod up in several pieces and set it aside. Being able to replace the sod would make our grave robbing less obvious, though it would be apparent on close inspection. I hope no one looks too closely. I don't want our digging to upset anyone; I just want my life to be my own again.

  Daphne and I don't say much while we're in the cemetery. Maybe it seems disrespectful, or maybe this situation is simply too weird. It's the stuff of monster movies and paranormal television shows. Of all the tasks I imagined the Sidhe might set for me, I never imagined digging up bones would be on the list.

  I'm only about three feet down when I hit something. The spade brings up an old chunk of rotten wood. Good, the casket was made of wood and not steel. It was much shallower than I expected, but caskets don't always stay put when you bury them. I remember reading some story about a bunch of caskets which popped out of the bottom of a hill after a severe season of rain. They had originally been buried in a cemetery on top of the hill.

  Regardless of the wheres and hows, I'm just glad I don't have to dig much further. I'd been considering making the hole big enough I could dig from inside it when I hit the casket. I dig a little further with the spade, and then jump into the hole and crouch down.

  It's gross, digging around in the dirt of a grave with my bare hands, looking for bones, but it's exactly what I do. As I fish around in the hole, my fingers brush something that feels a bit like a bunch of sticks. I pull it out of the dirt and dust it off.

  It's a hand. It's a dirty old bare-bones skeleton hand. Gross.

  "Got it," I say softly.

  Daphne hands me a resealable plastic bag, and I drop the hand in and seal it before dusting my hands off on my jeans. Climbing back out of the hole, I hand the bag to Daphne and then start shoveling dirt back into the grave.

  Yeah, I know. I put some poor guy's bones in a bag like a leftover sandwich. Maybe not exactly respectful, but it was the best I could do. I already lost one of my cousin's linen napkins when we used it for the offering to the Sidhe. It disappeared along with everything else. I didn't want to lose another one by burying dead guy's bones in it. Besides, it seems more sanitary to carry body parts, no matter how old and desiccated, in a sealed bag.

  It seems to take longer to fill the hole up than it did to dig it in the first place. I'm certain that's not the case. We've got the bones and I want to get out of here, so it makes it seem like forever. After several eons, I carefully fit the sod back into place and gently tamp it down with my feet.

  "It's four in the morning," Daphne informs me as we leave the cemetery. "Do we want to go to the hill or go back to the house and bury the bones later?"

  "I think we'd better try for the hill. If we can make it there before daybreak, it would be a good thing. If anyone sees the grave has been disturbed, I don't want stories going around about us being on the hill with a shovel."

  "You're right. I know you're right. It's better to get it done. I'm just tired."

  "You and me both. Thank you for doing this with me."

  "No problem. I like helping you."

  "I'm used to doing the helping. I'm not used to anyone looking out for me. It's pretty cool. I think I could get used to it."

  "Good. Because I think I could get used to it too."

  We walk down the middle of a lane in Ireland, hand in hand, with some dead guy's bones in my pocket, and I don't think I've ever been so happy in my life.

  Things go smoothly at the hill. Once again, I carefully cut out the sod where I plan to dig, so it won't be as noticeable when we are done. I don't dig nearly as big a hole, and once it's a couple of feet deep, I decide it's deep enough. It's only the bones of one hand, after all.

  Once the bones are interred and the sod replaced I stand staring at the ground, unsure what to do.

  "Should we say a few words, or what?" I ask.

  "What? To the fair folk? I don't think so, we're both too tired. We can come back later today and do it."

  "No, I mean because of the hand. We buried part of a human. Should we say anything?"

  "Oh, I see. How about this…James, we're sorry your life was so short. We hope you'll be at peace here. The fair folk thought a lot of you. We hope all is well with you, wherever you are."

  Maybe it's because I'm exhausted, I don't know, but what Daphne says sounds about perfect.

  The walk back to my cousins' is uneventful bu
t tiring. By the time we tuck the spade back into the gardening shed in the backyard, the birds are singing and the sun is just starting to peep over the horizon. We sneak back into the house, climb the stairs to our room, and fall into bed. I'm not certain my head even hits the pillow before I'm asleep.

  Twenty-Five

  "Nothing is happening."

  "Do you feel sleepy, like last time?"

  Daphne and I are sitting on the hill close to where we had laid out the picnic the day before. It's not as nice a day today as it has been the rest of our visit. The sky is a uniform gray and it spits a little rain on us now and again.

  "No, not sleepy at all. It isn't anything like last time."

  We'd come to the hill, taken a seat, and then I had said out loud how I was returning after completing my task and wanted my debt weighed.

  If it wasn't drizzling rain we could have probably heard crickets in the resounding silence that followed my announcement.

  "Oh, no." Daphne's expression has fallen and she sighs before she continues. "We didn't bring a gift. They're going to call you a mannerless pig again."

  "Damn it! You think we have to bring a gift every time? What about the bones? Wasn't the hand a gift?"

  "Obviously it didn't count or you would be slipping off to dream-vision land."

  "Back to the truck." I stand and give her a hand up. "We'll go pick something up in town."

  I've got to remember to pick up a present for Hugh. The sweet old guy has pretty much given us the use of his pickup truck for the duration of our stay. Maybe I can pick something up at the store where I bought the cigars.

  On the return trip, I see an elderly gentleman walking down the side of the lane and feel a sudden compulsion to stop. His name is Arlan and he's on his way to his granddaughter's house. I don't like the sound of his breathing and quickly offer him a ride which he gratefully accepts. I don't know what would have happened if we hadn't driven him. Often I don't know exactly why I do what I do, or what would have happened if I did not intervene. I don't question it. After years of this curse of mine, when the time comes to act, I act.