The Widow's Walk

by Robert Barclay

  Before replying, William closed his umbrella then tapped its tip several times against the hallway floor to shake off the rain.

  “Thank you, Dr. Richmond,” he answered. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “You too,” Garrett answered. He beckoned William toward one of the guest chairs opposite his desk. “Please sit down.”

  William removed his raincoat and took a seat.

  “It’s my understanding that you have something for me from Dr. Wentworth,” Garrett said.

  William nodded as he removed an envelope from his suit jacket. Garrett saw that it was made of the same expensive vellum as the departing note Brooke had given him that day at Fairlawn. Rising briefly from his chair, William handed it over.

  “My instructions are quite simple,” William said. “First, I deliver that letter to you. Second, I am to make sure that you read it in my presence.”

  Wondering, Garrett ran his fingertips over the sharply creased envelope. Brooke had written his name on the front in fountain ink, and the back flap was securely sealed with red stationery wax.

  “You don’t know what this says?” he asked William.

  “That’s correct.”

  Garrett used his pocketknife to slit open the envelope. When he removed its contents he saw that Brooke’s note was handwritten, encompassing one full page and half of another. After settling back in his chair, he began to read.

  William watched with interest while Garrett perused Brooke’s letter. At first Garrett showed no emotion, but as he continued reading, a look of outright astonishment soon overtook his face. By the time Garrett had finished, his breath was coming in ragged gasps and his face was flushed. It was quite clear to William that the note had affected Garrett deeply, perhaps even irrevocably.

  Several moments later Garrett read the note again, as if doing so would somehow lessen the terrible tension he was feeling. With trembling fingers he finally replaced it into the envelope. When at last he looked back at William, his eyes were fearful, incredulous.

  “I say, Dr. Richmond,” William asked. “Is something wrong?”

  Before answering, Garrett walked on shaking legs to his office window and again looked out. The rain was coming harder now, the uniform clouds even darker than before. As the drops assailed his window they created tiny rivulets, curiously distorting everything that lay beyond.

  Just like this revelation from Brooke has suddenly distorted everything I thought I knew, he thought. I now understand that my entire life has been . . .

  At last Garrett summoned enough composure to turn and look at William.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said. “You may tell Dr. Wentworth that I have read her letter in its entirety, and I understand. Please also tell her that I thank her.”

  William nodded.

  “Then my work here is done,” he said.

  Upon rising from his chair he donned his raincoat and grabbed up his umbrella. When he reached the door he stopped and again looked at Garrett with an expression of concern.

  “Forgive me, sir,” he said, “but are you quite sure you’re all right? Dr. Wentworth will want to know.”

  Garrett walked back to his desk and sat down. Given everything that he had just learned, it felt good to have a sturdy chair beneath him, rather than his trembling legs.

  “Yes, William,” he answered. “Please be sure to have a safe trip home, and give my best regards to Dr. Wentworth.”

  “As you wish, sir,” William said. “I bid you good day.”

  “And to you,” Garrett answered.

  William left Garrett’s office and quietly closed the door behind him.

  Still stunned by what he had just read, Garrett suddenly took a little gulp of air. For some reason his office seemed quite unfamiliar to him now, as if he had just stepped into it for the first time. Like some awful beast that had suddenly been released from its lair, a terrible sense of panic gripped his heart. With the coming of Brooke’s letter, his plight had suddenly been complicated to such a degree that he could barely make any sense of it.

  Even so, he also realized that Brooke had been right to send him this letter in confidence. Would he disclose its contents to Constance? No, he decided. If they succeeded, he could always tell her later. Conversely, if neither of them survived, then what possible difference could it make? He felt deceitful, but it had to be this way.

  He now also understood how the information in Brooke’s letter fit into all of this. Like the last piece of some gigantic puzzle, it seemed to finally pull all the other pieces into place, but the picture that emerged was far more complex than he could have ever have imagined. Even so, everything Brooke had so far told him had come true, thereby leading him to trust the veracity of this latest revelation as well. As tears began forming in his eyes, he shook his head with frustration.

  Could it be possible? he wondered. I’ve never believed in such things. But if it is true, then this changes everything. Worse yet, despite its supreme importance I must keep it a secret from the only woman I have ever loved.

  Suddenly feeling the need to move, Garrett returned to the office window and stared out blankly, seeing both everything and nothing. And then, despite how unsettling Brooke’s letter had been, one part of it gave him an idea . . .

  Chapter 29

  Two days later, Constance again stood before the old window in the barn. This was the same window from which she had gazed so many times over the past seventeen decades, wondering if she might ever be released from her terrible purgatory. Yet now that a chance for freedom had come, she hesitated.

  She had returned to her corner spot on the barn’s second floor to think about what to do. Given that she was now living in the house, it had been some time since she had visited here, and she had missed this little place. Perhaps that was because she had spent some of her most difficult times here, amid the rather sad collection of personal items that had always comforted her. But the only things remaining were the mattress and the full-length mirror, neither of which she wanted.

  When she considered looking into the mirror, she hesitated. She had not gazed upon herself for some time now, for fear of what she would see. She knew she was dying, and she felt a little weaker every day. She also knew that she did not have much time left in which to make a decision, and that knowledge haunted her.

  At last she gathered up the courage to step before the mirror. Her clothes hung straight down upon her form loosely. Her hair looked brittle and dry, and her skin showed additional lines and wrinkles that had been absent only days before. If one looked hard enough, the beauty that had once been hers could still be seen, but soon even that would be gone. And despite it all, Garrett still professed his undying love for her. Nearly two weeks had passed since their last flashback. At the time she had not known that Garrett shared in the experience, and when he told her she had been surprised.

  Turning away from the mirror, Constance again gazed down at the old mattress. How many times had she cried herself to sleep there? she wondered. How many times had she come to lie there, seeking quiet? And how many times had she gone to her knees there, praying to God to set her free? An answer had come at last in the form of a man named Garrett Richmond. But now that he was here, how could she ask him to risk his life for hers?

  That question had haunted her since the moment they left Brooke Wentworth’s mansion. Neither she nor Garrett had any lingering doubts about the things Brooke told them. That is, the only path to freedom was for the two of them to hurl their bodies from the roof of Seaside, not knowing whether one or both of them might perish, or what might happen to them, even should they live. Time after time her mind returned to that terrible, wonderful, frightening, and reassuring idea. This course of action might actually save her, and also keep Garrett from entering the same sort of purgatory that she had suffered for so long. But should they do it? she wondered. Could they do it?

  She had no doubt that Garrett would go through with it if she agreed. Yet still she he
sitated, because of her highly conflicted feelings regarding him. And so it was that she had decided to return to this familiar spot today, and hopefully make some sense of everything.

  She had always done her best thinking here. But before she could do so again, she first needed to understand something that had bewildered her for some time now. As best she could, she needed to ascertain her true feelings for Garrett. For only then would she be able to give him a final answer.

  Truth be told, she had been conflicted about Garrett since the moment they met. In many ways he was perfect. He not only understood and appreciated the times from which she came, but he was also intensely dedicated to restoring Seaside. Had the flashbacks not begun, she remained firmly convinced that by now she would be deeply in love with him.

  But each of her flashbacks had sent her back in time to Adam, cruelly reminding her of how much she loved him, then only to return her to the present. And each time she returned, there stood Garrett—ready, willing, and able to love her with all his heart, and even to risk his life to help free her. Every time this happened, her confusion grew, and sometimes she felt like she was going mad over it. Was it possible for a woman to love two men at the same time? she again wondered. And if so, did that somehow make her evil?

  But most of all, did she truly love Garrett? That was the real question, and she knew it. It had been so long since she had experienced real love, she wasn’t sure what it felt like anymore. She already loved him as she might love a brother. And she knew that her romantic and sexual feelings for him roiled just beneath the surface, yearning to be unleashed. Given enough time, would they at last blossom? And would she then have enough closure about Adam to act on them?

  Sometimes the more she thought about Adam, the more she truly believed that she did in fact want a romantic and sexual relationship with Garrett. To anyone unfamiliar with her situation, these feelings would probably seem contradictory and selfish, perhaps even adulterous. But her marriage to Adam had been arranged, and love had come later. Garrett was as good a man as Adam had been, and she saw no reason why she couldn’t come to love him too. But was that true love? Or was true love something more immediate and visceral, like an unexpected thunderbolt?

  Brooke had said that for their attempt to succeed, Garrett’s love for Constance must be unconditional and know no bounds. That needn’t also be true about Constance’s feelings for Garrett, however. According to Brooke, she needed only believe strongly enough in his love for her, and of that she had no doubts. So many times now Garrett had already illustrated his undying devotion. It was like something straight out of a storybook, in which the handsome hero comes to rescue the fair damsel who has been imprisoned in a dark tower. Then again, such storybook lovers never had to overcome a force so powerful as the mora mortis.

  And if she and Garrett failed in the attempt, what would death be like? she wondered. Could it possibly be any worse than the last seventeen decades through which she had already suffered? Might she be reunited in death with her husband, Adam? And if so, how could that be a bad thing?

  Conversely, should they succeed, then what would her new life then be like? Could she continue to live here at Seaside with Garrett, for not only would she wish to stay, but he would want that too. His restoration of Seaside would eventually be complete, and all the furniture from the barn cellar would be returned to the house. Would they perhaps marry and have children? And given the passage of time would she find enough closure regarding Adam, at last allowing her to fully enjoy her new life?

  Just then she realized that she had made her decision, and that her answer to Garrett must be yes. When Garrett arrived home tonight she would tell him, and she knew how happy he would be. But most of all, she believed that she had finally made the right choice, no matter the risks that she and Garrett must take. And if their trial succeeded, she no longer had any doubt that she could be happy with Garrett, even if her brotherly love for him never turned into anything more.

  When she looked out the window again, this time she saw Garrett’s Jeep coming up the dirt road toward the house. And with his arrival, she realized something else.

  She had at last found a reason to live.

  Chapter 30

  Two days later, Garrett sat alone in his business office, thinking. Like Constance, he too had come to a crossroads regarding her imprisonment. When she told him that she wanted to try, he had been overjoyed. But later on, he realized there were some things to be considered.

  Standing from his desk, he crossed the room and walked to the large picture window in the opposite wall. He looked out over the restless Atlantic, its wintertime waves now gray, and froth-tipped. They would retain that appearance until next summer, when the weather warmed and they returned to a beautiful dark blue. Would he and Constance live to see that lovely transformation? he wondered. He hoped with all his heart that would be the case, but in truth he had absolutely no way of knowing what might happen to them.

  As Garrett had considered all of this during the last two days, he also realized that there were other people to consider besides just him and Constance. His death would have a huge effect upon Trent, his parents, and his sister and her family.

  He was not worried about his last will and testament, because it had been drafted only two years ago and he remained very familiar with its language. In the event of his death everything he owned—including Seaside—went to his sister, Christine. Should she wish to have Jay finish the restoration, there would be plenty of money left. Yesterday he informed his attorney about the antique furniture hidden in the barn cellar and ordered him to inform his sister of it, in the event of his death.

  Trent would inherit his share of the business, which was only right, because Trent had worked so hard to help make it a success. Save for a few personal items, his parents weren’t mentioned. But then again, they didn’t need anything from him and they were sure to understand. Not wishing to leave any of his affairs unattended, yesterday Garrett had presented a check to Jay Morgan, which more than paid for any outstanding expenses incurred to date.

  He had considered leaving a note, should he die in the attempt. But he soon decided against it, because he didn’t want anyone thinking that he had committed suicide. He would, however, take a sledgehammer to the widow’s walk front railing, thereby making it appear that it had somehow failed, causing him to fall to his death. Should he die, to spare his family any additional grief, he wanted it to appear as an accident. They would all be beyond consoling, but that was something over which he had no control.

  He very much hoped that he had planned for every contingency, but in his heart he knew that was probably impossible. The best he could do was to consider all the resulting consequences, do what he could about them, and then let things take their course. Overall he believed that he had covered things as best he could. Because Constance was growing continually weaker they had agreed to do this thing tonight, when they would be alone at Seaside.

  Garrett continued to look out over the ocean, thinking. So as not to arouse suspicion, he would leave work at the usual time. Although he very much wanted to say good night to Trent he knew that he could not, for fear of breaking down and uttering something too revealing. Nor did he dare visit his parents or his sister this night for the same reason.

  If he and Constance failed in the attempt, he would then take Constance’s place and be imprisoned at Seaside, trapped forever between the worlds of life and death. His only hope for salvation would occur if someone else came along and loved him the way that he loved Constance, and if she were willing to risk her life to try freeing him. But he knew the likelihood of such a thing happening twice was virtually impossible. And so, if he became trapped between worlds he would likely remain that way for all time. He could only stand by and watch, desperately hoping that Christine would finish the restoration of the house as he had intended it to be.

  And so it was that around 5:30 P.M. Garrett packed up his briefcase then walked downstairs and happily wave
d good-bye to the receptionist, just as he did every night. Before getting into his Jeep, for what might well be the last time, he turned and took a long look back at his offices. But before he went to join Constance, he had a job to do.

  FOUR HOURS LATER GARRETT sat in his Jeep, the vehicle’s lights off, the motor purring quietly as he waited where the road to Seaside curved leftward and one first saw the house. He could see Constance sitting on the porch, waiting for him. The sun had fallen some time ago and bright stars filled the heavens, while ever-restless waves washed up against the shoreline. He had an important task to perform, but he could only do it when Constance was inside the house, for he didn’t want her to know.

  As he waited, the passing minutes seemed like hours. How he longed to go and sit with her, but he could not. He must wait here no matter how long it took, and then go join her only when his work was done. After another twenty minutes or so, he saw her pick up the electric lantern, and she walked into the house.

  For ten minutes more he lingered before putting the Jeep into gear and slowly making a wide circle around the house to the left, driving along the edge of the woods that curved around behind the barn. The Jeep’s lights still off, he at last came to the place he wanted. An old dirt road, long since covered over with branches and leaves wound its way into the woods, he knew not how far. He had first seen it during one of his trips to the barn and had always meant to walk that road and discover where it led, but hadn’t done so. Using only the moonlight to guide his way, he carefully inched the Jeep up the road until both the barn and the lights shining from within Seaside were gone from view.

  After traveling another fifty yards or so he found a relatively clear space on the right, shining in the moonlight. He stopped the Jeep, killed the engine, and then went to investigate it. The small, relatively bare area seemed perfect for his needs.

  He then returned to the Jeep to grab up the shovel and pickax lying on the passenger-side floor. After carrying the tools to the small clearing, he first loosened a section of ground with the pickax then dug a deep hole with the shovel. When he had finished he went back to the Jeep, started the engine again, and drove the vehicle close to the waiting hole. Little by little he removed the contents of the Jeep, placed them into the hole, and then finally filled the hole with the remaining dirt, followed by enough leaves and branches to ensure that the place looked undisturbed.