In Silent Graves

by Gary A Braunbeck

  Danny reached out and tentatively picked up the tickets. “You’re shittin’ me?”

  “There’s that talking too much thing again.”

  “Sorry.” Danny opened the ticket, read it over, then looked in the other two envelopes, as well. “Damn, Robert...I don’t know what to say.”

  “You guys have done a lot for me these last weeks and I just wanted to thank you.”

  “Yeah, okay, cool...but you didn’t need to do this! Jesus, I mean, I wasn’t even pricing first-class tickets. I can’t imagine...man, this must’ve cost you a pretty penny.”

  Robert grinned. “I can afford it, believe me.”

  Danny put down the tickets, wiped his hands on his shirt, rose from the table, and came around and gave Robert an awkward but sincere hug. “Thanks, Robert. This really means a lot.”

  “Finish your sandwich.”

  Danny laughed, then sat back down. “What’s in the bag?”

  “In a second. Are you guys going to be home tomorrow morning around ten-thirty?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “The tickets aren’t the only present I got for you. Please don’t go all macho-pride on me, okay? I know you and Lynn have been wanting to get a computer—”

  “—no way! You didn’t!”

  Robert nodded. “It’s a really, really nice system, and it was on sale so don’t go telling me that I can’t afford it because I can. I’m not rubbing your face in anything, okay?”

  Danny shrugged. “You’re on television. I’m guessing that pays a whole helluva lot better than construction work.”

  “And you work hard, Danny, and you goddamned well deserve to have things you and your family want. I got no one else to spend my money on now, so the three of you have been elected, okay?”

  “Okay.” Then: “A computer, huh?”

  “With a ton of software and games and a DVD-rom. It’ll be delivered in the morning. I made arrangements with the store manager for a couple of the store’s tech people to come over around eleven and hook up the system and get you guys started. They’ll show you how to use it, get you set up on the Internet, all that fun stuff.” What he failed to mention was that this special Saturday delivery truck would also contain a second computer (this one just for Eric), a new stereo system, a forty-two inch flat-screen HD color television so Danny and Lynn could really see the OSU football games, a new VCR and Blu-Ray player, about fifty different movies for everyone, a satellite dish (Robert had purchased a five-year contract with the service), a new microwave, refrigerator, stove, and assorted other goodies.

  Christmas would come a little early to the Connor house this year. Robert was sorry he wouldn’t be able to see their faces.

  “Now, the bag,” he said. “The third and last part of your gift is in here. This is where I need your help, Danny. I need you to stash this in that steamer trunk of yours and not tell Lynn about it until Monday. Will you do that for me?”

  “What is it?”

  Robert grinned wider. “That would be telling. Promise me that you’ll ask Lynn to come home for lunch on Monday, and that you’ll do the same?”

  “Sure...?”

  “Open it at lunch on Monday. Read the letter inside first. Okay?”

  That letter went as follows:

  Dear Lynn and Danny,

  By now, hopefully, you’re enjoying your presents. Don’t give me any crap about this either, Lynn. It’s my money and I’ll do what I damned well please with it. I know this is stuff you guys have needed and wanted, but Sis, you’re a little too practical and frugal sometimes—I know you’d probably never buy half this stuff for yourself, so I decided to do it for you. Don’t even think about returning any of it, dig?

  There’s a little more to this, though. I know that Danny told you I was going on a trip, and I am. Here’s the thing, though; I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone. At least a year, probably longer. I’ll write and call as often as I can, so don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy and will be fine. I’ve always wanted to take a cruise around the world. Denise and I had talked about doing it sometime. I need to do thisnot only for myself, but her, as well. For us.

  Okay, the money. Remember last year when you borrowed three hundred dollars from me and didn’t want Danny to know, so you made arrangements for me to electronically transfer it to your private savings? Well, Sis, you never bothered to change that, so I still have access to your savings account. To wit: The envelope in this bag contains around fifty thousand dollars. That’s for you and Danny—I’ve always thought everyone should be able to see that much money in one place at least once in their lives. Spend it, deposit, hand it out to homeless folks in the street—it’s yours to do with as you want. Now, if you’ll put down this letter and call your bank, you’ll discover that your private savings account balance has increased by one hundred thousand dollars.

  That’s Eric’s college money. Period, no arguments.

  Now for the deed to the house. I have signed ownership over to you and Danny and arranged for all taxes, utilities, etc. to be paid from a separate account that my attorney helped set up. You’ll find his card attached to this letter. Call him as soon as you can. The house is paid for, and it’s now yours. You guys can move into it, use it for weekend getaways, or sell it—same goes for whatever stuff I leave there. Whatever you decide will be fine with me. I know how much you always loved the place.

  No, Sis, I haven’t crumbled my mental crackers. The last several weeks have shown me what is important in life and what’s just window-dressing. This is only money and stuff, that’s all. When I come back I’ll either get a new place (I’m thinking a condo) or move in with you guys. I’ll decide later. I’ve got time. Please remember how much I love all of you. I hope now that you and Danny will be able to breathe easier about money. Money is a terrible thing to sacrifice any of your happiness and peace of mind to. If you decide to sell the house, the current market value of it’s somewhere around three-hundred-and-seventy-five thousand. If you do decide to sell, then the money from the tax/utility/etc. fund will be given to you.

  Whatever. I just want for you guys to have a good life. I love you very, very much and will miss you while I’m gone. Please remember to tell Eric about me so he won’t forget his uncle.

  That’s about it. Keep me in your thoughts because all of you will be in mine.

  I’m sorry that I left so abruptly, but I got a great deal on the trip providing I left this weekend. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Be happy.

  Bobby

  “Okay, the letter first.”

  “Danny?”

  “Yeah?” replied his brother-in-law, looking more and more puzzled.

  “Can you keep this a secret until then?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Robert chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “Promise me you won’t look in here before then?”

  “Hey, I know Lynn says that I’m nibby, but I’m not that bad. Yes, of course, sure.”

  “It’d spoil the rest of the surprise if you did.”

  “I give you my word.”

  “Good. Here’s the thing; I have to leave on a little trip later tonight, so I’m not going to be around when you guys open this. It’s very important to me that this be done on Monday, no sooner. You won’t let me down, right?”

  “You ask me that again and I might take it personally.”

  “Good enough for me.” He rose from the table, reached into his pocket, and pulled out four fifty dollar bills. “Here.”

  Danny took the cash, counted it, and said, “Ah, Robert! Come on! You don’t need—”

  “Yes, I do. Clean yourself up, and when Lynn and Eric get home, take them out for a really nice dinner, then maybe go to the movies or shopping or something. You guys deserve a really great Family Night Out. On me.”

  Danny stared at him a moment, then slipped the money into the pocket of his greasy jeans. “You sure are some piece of work, Robert.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah—they broke the mo
ld.” He made a show of checking his watch. “I gotta scoot. Packing and all that—besides, I don’t want to be here when Lynn gets home.”

  “Yeah, she was a little irritated that you didn’t want her to take you home from the hospital.”

  “She’ll get over it.” Robert opened the back door and turned to Danny once again. “You’re a fine man, Danny. I’m glad my sister had the good sense to marry you.”

  “Hear her tell it sometimes, she was suffering a bad fever and hallucinating when she said, ‘I do.’”

  Robert laughed. “Yeah, well, don’t let her fool you. She’s crazy about you.”

  “She’d better be. I’d hate to be this head-over-heels and have it be just my little secret.”

  “See you later.”

  “Thank you, Robert. For everything.”

  Robert winked, closed the door, then got into his car and drove away.

  He would never see Danny, Lynn, or his nephew again.

  Chapter 9

  In the basement, a new matryoshka doll had taken up residence in Denise’s work area. This one came from inside the doll that bore Robert’s likeness. During his stay in the hospital, his doll had been cut open, and this new one placed within. It showed the face of a man Robert did not recognize. Everything about the likeness was generic; the shape of its face, the color of its hair, the expression on its face, even the clothes it wore. It was the likeness of a man you would pass on the street without a second glance.

  It was only as he was setting the doll back down on the table that Robert noticed something like a small scar on the figure’s left temple.

  He reached up and touched the bandage on the left side of his own head.

  He reassembled both sets of dolls, placing one inside the other inside the other inside the other inside the other, then packed them into a box, along with all of Denise’s art supplies. He placed the box in the trunk of the car, went back inside, and sprinkled kitty treats inside the two cat-carriers he’d purchased earlier that day. Tasha and The Winnie sniffed around the carriers, not sure what to make of them; eventually, though, the lure of the treats was too much and each chose a carrier. He’d also purchased two comfy-looking pillows and placed one inside each carrier. He wanted the cats to be comfortable for the trip. It was important that they get used to the carriers and pillows. He had a feeling that when it happened, it was going to happen very, very quickly.

  His guess proved to be correct.

  But before his last hours as a part of humanity unfolded, there was only waiting.

  Friday night: A pizza and several DVD movies, some painkillers, and a little sleep.

  Saturday morning: Cartoons and Coco Wheats, something he hadn’t done in years. Most of the programming struck him as sloppy and greedy—they weren’t so much cartoons as badly-animated thirty-minute commercials for action figures available at a department store near you. Almost on the verge of giving up, he flipped around one last time and came across a channel that was running cartoons from his childhood: The Groovy Ghoulies, Scooby-Doo, Spider-Man (the good one, with that great theme song, which Robert found himself singing along), and, of course, the original Johnny Quest. For a couple of hours, he was six years old again, and it was great.

  The waiting continued.

  Saturday afternoon: A Robert Mitchum double feature on TCM (Night of the Hunter and The Friends of Eddie Coyle, two of Bob’s best), then more painkillers and a nap. He heard the phone ringing at several points as he drifted in and out of sleep (no doubt Lynn calling to see if he’d changed his mind about the trip so she could yell at him) and for a moment was gripped by panic when he remembered that Lynn had an extra set of keys and might very well come over and let herself in, but he dismissed the idea.

  She was probably too busy trying to pull Eric and Danny off the ceiling when they saw all the toys that had been delivered that morning.

  He slept, awakened, and waited.

  Saturday night: Leftover pizza and a Kurt Vonnegut short-story collection. Robert chuckled throughout and was touched and given some food for thought. Old Kurt never let him down.

  He decided to pack his Vonnegut books for the trip, as well as his Stephen King and Carson McCullers and Jonathan Carroll and Russell Banks and Mark Twain and Kate Wilhelm and Eudors Welty and, before he realized it, it was two-thirty in the morning and he’d packed all the books in the house.

  It took him four trips to load the books and few records and CDS he’d decided to bring (One Foot in History being the first music he grabbed). He was impressed with how much trunk space the car actually had. There were six boxes there, and room for three mid-sized boxes more...or two bigger ones.

  He filled one mid-sized box with the files from Denise’s cabinet and loaded it. Something told him that it would not be a good idea to leave those behind.

  He came in through the back door after the last load and washed his hands, grabbed a soda from the refrigerator, and sat down at the kitchen table with a peanut-butter sandwich. His head was starting to throb again but he held off on taking more painkillers.

  He sat in silence for a few moments, closing his eyes and trying to relax. He drifted off for a minute or two but did not actually fall asleep.

  The sound of a key being slipped into the front door lock startled him to full, anxious consciousness. He looked at the clock: 1:55 a.m. Jesus H! Lynn had finally decided to come over and see if he had actually left. She’d waited until Danny and Eric were asleep and snuck out.

  Robert jumped to his feet and turned off the kitchen light, pressed himself against a shadowed wall, and held his breath.

  The door opened, closed, and was locked again.

  Soft footsteps crossed the entryway and came into the living room.

  He listened, and could clearly hear the sound of Lynn’s breathing as she sighed, walked around the room, took off her coat, and sat in his chair.

  Robert moved slowly and quietly to the kitchen doorway.

  He could see the back of her head...but the hair was the wrong color. It was too dark to be Lynn’s.

  He caught a whiff of the perfume the woman wore, and though it wasn’t Lynn’s perfume it was, nonetheless, one whose scent he recognized from long ago.

  He walked into the living room and came around the front of the chair.

  She was thumbing through the current issue of Columbus Monthly. “You always did take a really great picture, Rob.”

  Rob. Only one girl had ever called him that—because, she said, he reminded her of Dick Van Dyke and she could do a mean Mary Tyler Moore as Laura Petrie; God, how many times had she pulled an “Oh, Ro-o-ob!” on him while they were dating?

  Cathy Pope looked up at him and smiled. For a girl who’d been in her grave for over twenty years, she still had a smile that could melt him. “Hi, Robert.”

  “Hello.”

  “Did you see me on the bus that day?”

  “Yes. You blew me a kiss.”

  She put down the magazine and stood. In high school they’d been roughly the same height; now Robert had a good three inches and nearly as many decades on her.

  She put her arms around his neck, leaned up on tiptoe, and kissed him. “Miss me?”

  “Who are you?”

  “You know who I am. I think maybe there’s another question you wanted to ask instead.”

  Robert pulled her arms from around his neck and stepped back. “What are you?”

  “Horny as all get-out. I’m still a virgin, remember?”

  Robert began backing away from her, suddenly terrified. “What happens now?”

  “Am I still the same, Rob?”

  “Yes....”

  She moved toward him. “Look closer. Am I really?”

  He examined her face as part of his mind flipped back to her photo in his high school yearbook, as well as her matryoshka likeness.

  “God,” he whispered, then began to touch her cheek but pulled back his hand at the last moment.

  Most of her was still the Cathy P
ope that he had loved and dreamed of, but something about her face...it was smaller, her cheekbones a tad sharper, the point of her nose harsher and...and...what was it?

  “Your freckles,” he said. “What happened to your freckles?”

  “Dammit!” she snapped, turning away and pacing back and forth. “Dammit, I knew there was something missing! I mean, the nose and the cheekbones and all that, minor stuff—did you notice my lips are fuller than when you knew me?—but, Christ! How do you forget something like all those freckles?”

  “Your eyes are a different color, too.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Terrific! Anything else?”

  “No. You look....” He shook his head. “You’re still just as pretty as I remember.”

  She stopped her pacing and smiled at him. “Good. I wanted to look pretty for you. Pretty is important.”

  “Not really.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.”

  “Like hell it is. Pretty is an illusion. It took me most of my life to learn that.”

  She froze. “Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?”

  He nodded.

  Her wrong-colored eyes glistened with pride. “That’s wonderful, Robert. You don’t know how happy that’s going to make—” She cut off the words. “Come on, then. Let’s get the cats in their carriers.”

  Tasha and The Winnie were already there, curled up on their respective pillows and sleeping warmly. Robert fastened the door to Tasha’s carrier; Cathy took care of The Winnie’s.

  “Do you have everything you want to take with you?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you certain? Once you leave, you can’t come back. Ever.”

  “I’m certain.”

  Cathy looked around. “This is a really beautiful house, Rob. If I’d’ve lived, I would have wanted us to get married and live in a house just like this.” She wiped something from her eye and picked up The Winnie’s carrier. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 10

  She gave him directions as he drove. It wasn’t until they turned off Sharon Valley Road, took a couple of side streets, and were passing Weathervane Playhouse that he realized where they were heading.