The Widow's Walk

by Robert Barclay

  Thinking, he glanced around. After a few minutes he found three stones, which he brought back to the clearing. He made a small pile in the center of the clearing—one not so obvious that it would appear staged to some passerby, but enough to mark the spot for someone who knew where to look.

  His task complete, Garrett loaded the tools back into the Jeep, started the engine again, and then returned by way of the same route. Once he reached the road, he switched on the lights and drove to the house.

  Chapter 31

  The house was dark, save for some light coming through the dining room windows, where Constance was waiting for him. As usual, he was about to turn off the engine when he stopped himself. If things did not go well tonight, there was no point in anyone having to hunt for car keys. And so he drove the Jeep around to one side of the house, then he killed the engine and purposely left the keys in the ignition.

  Constance was sitting on the sofa. She had not lit a fire in the fireplace tonight, and Garrett silently approved of her precaution, should things go totally awry. He put his briefcase down on the coffee table and smiled at her as best he could. To his great dismay, she looked the worst he had ever seen. Clearly her deterioration was progressing even more rapidly now, and he found himself doubting that she would survive for more than another two or three days this way.

  He sat down beside her and looked into her eyes.

  “Hello there,” he said to her. “How are you feeling?”

  Constance closed her eyes and nodded. The lines on her face were deeply etched now, her hair had become uniformly gray, and she was very thin. Worst yet, her physicality had become so translucent that it was almost as if she wasn’t there at all. She had failed so much even since saying good-bye to him this morning that he could scarcely believe it.

  “I am here, Garrett,” she said weakly. Then she did her best to smile back at him. “I stand ready to do this, but I fear that you must carry me to the roof. As it was, I could hardly make it to the sofa.”

  Although they were far too large on her now, she was wearing her favorite clothing that he had bought her—the white blouse, the dress jeans, the leather jacket, and the cowboy boots. She clutched her new purse in her hands, causing him to wonder. After pointing at her purse, he smiled mischievously.

  “Planning on going somewhere?” he asked.

  She smiled back.

  “I am hoping so,” she answered. “But first, some handsome devil that I know is going to have to lift me up into his strong arms.”

  He looked at her purse and smiled again.

  “Do you think we can take things along where we’re going?” he asked.

  “I have no idea, but I could see no harm in trying.”

  With that, Garrett’s expression turned more serious. Reaching out, he ran one hand through her hair, then he lovingly stroked her cheek.

  “If we don’t make it, there’s something that I want you to know,” he said. “I—”

  “I know,” Constance answered. “I have always known.”

  Garrett stood up.

  “Then it’s time, my love,” he said to her.

  Garrett helped her to stand, then he picked her up in his arms. To his surprise, she felt light as a feather, as if there was nothing left of her. After taking a last look around he carried her up the stairs, then up the second flight of stairs that led to the roof.

  It was a beautiful evening. The dark night sky was filled with lovely stars and a light breeze caressed their faces as Garrett and Constance gazed out at the ocean. The newly refurbished widow’s walk glistened beautifully in the moonlight, as if beckoning them to come sit upon one of its benches and languidly take in the view. But they could not do so this night, because time was running out. Still holding Constance in his arms, Garrett looked into her eyes.

  “Can you stand?” he asked her.

  “I think so.”

  Garrett set her feet gently down upon the roof and helped to steady her. He then looked back at the widow’s walk, and to the sledgehammer he had put there before leaving for work this morning. Its business end sat on the floor, and its strong wooden handle lay propped against the bench.

  “I have a bit of work to do,” he said to Constance.

  “I know,” she answered. “It’s a shame, but it must be done.”

  Garrett went back to the widow’s walk and picked up the sledgehammer. He then climbed to the second floor, where he began boldly swinging the sledgehammer against the front rail that faced the Atlantic Ocean. After a few stout blows the rail gave way, its many splintered pieces falling down onto Seaside’s roof. He then climbed down, walked to the farthest most edge of the roof, and threw the sledgehammer as far away into the night as he could. When he returned to Constance, he saw tears tracing down her cheeks.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Constance shook her head and wiped her eyes.

  “Silly me,” she answered. “Even though that widow’s walk was the beginning of all our troubles, I still hated seeing it destroyed like that.”

  Garrett turned and gazed back at the widow’s walk, its beauty again broken and disgraced. He then took a long, final look out across the waves of the Atlantic before gazing back into Constance’s eyes. Even during the short time it had taken to come up here, he could see that she had faltered further.

  “It’s time,” he said to her gently.

  “I know,” she answered. “But you must carry me with you when you do this. I just do not have the strength anymore.”

  Garrett again picked her up in his arms. She seemed so small and frail lying there, clutching at her purse and hoping for the best. Garrett carried her to the edge of the roof near the front of the widow’s walk then he turned and backtracked about twenty paces.

  When he again looked down at her, this time there was the slightest trace of a smile on her lips.

  “Have I ever told you that you have the most beautiful eyes?” she asked weakly.

  When Garrett hadn’t the heart to respond, Constance closed her eyes and placed her cheek against his shoulder.

  “It is all right, Garrett,” she whispered to him. “Please, just carry me away . . .”

  With tears in his eyes, Garrett gave her one last kiss on the forehead.

  He then took a deep breath, ran as fast as he could toward the edge of the roof, and leapt into the air.

  Chapter 32

  I can hear other people in the house, Constance thought sleepily. Jay Morgan’s workmen must be here already. And if the workmen are here, then . . .

  With a start, Constance sat up in her bed. If the crew was here, she needed to be up and about. Still not fully awake, she meandered sleepily across the bedroom and opened the armoire. But this time what she saw astonished her.

  Rather than finding her usual clothes, she was staring wide-eyed at items she could scarcely recognize. There were chemises, corsets, crinolines, several elaborate dresses, and a collection of slipperlike shoes and button-up boots, to name only some. She quickly pulled a few items out of the armoire and stood looking at them with disbelief, as if they had just been delivered to her from the moon. Very slowly, her memories of them began to return.

  When Constance at last turned around and took a good look at the bedroom, she gasped. It was just as she remembered from long ago. All of her original furniture had been returned. The set that Garrett bought for her was gone, and in its place were the bed and armoire from her times with Adam. She quickly looked back into the armoire and selected one of the chemises, which she pulled on over her head. Running across the bedroom as fast as she could, she threw open the French doors and hurried out onto the balcony. As she cast her gaze outward, her jaw literally dropped with astonishment.

  As usual, across the bay there lay New Bedford. However this was not the same New Bedford she had just left behind. There were sailing ships in the harbor plying to and fro, but she saw no skyscrapers, modern highways, or automobiles. Completely nonplussed again, she literally staggered bac
kward, trying to understand what had happened. Just then another thought seized her.

  She ran pell-mell back into the bedroom to stand before the full-length mirror. To her surprise and delight, she was youthful again, and seemingly no longer a prisoner of the mora mortis. For the first time in more than 170 years, she felt totally vibrant and full of life. In her heart she knew that she had somehow been returned to her own time as a fully flesh-and-blood woman.

  Clearly at least part of her and Garrett’s attempt at freedom had succeeded. But never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would be sent back to her original place and time. Nor had this been one of the scenarios suggested by Brooke Wentworth, that day in Salem. Then again, Brooke had also mentioned that any number of differing outcomes might occur. Could this truly be one of them? Constance wondered.

  Suddenly, the idea that it had all been a dream seized her imagination. Yes, she realized, that was a possibility, but how could she know for sure? There might be one way. She quickly scanned the bedroom again, searching for something. After a few moments she saw it, and she drew a quick breath.

  The purse that Garrett had bought for her—the same one that she had been holding when they made their leap from the roof—sat on her bureau at the other side of the room. She immediately went to it and picked it up gingerly, as if it might not be real or might somehow vanish at her slightest touch.

  It’s true! she realized. It all really happened!

  Her mind suddenly awash with questions, her next thoughts turned to Adam and Garrett. Is Adam really dead? she wondered. And is Garrett now trapped here at Seaside between worlds, just as I once was?

  She quickly crossed the room and tore open one of the bureau drawers, where she now remembered keeping her calendar. The crossed-out calendar days indicated that today was September 19, 1840. When she saw the date her heart sang, because no one had to remind her of when the Intrepid went down. That had been October 19, 1840, exactly one month from now. Today was therefore also one month before she had plunged from the widow’s walk and her and Adam’s simultaneous deaths, which thereby stirred the mora mortis to life.

  If this calendar is correct, Constance quickly realized, then Adam still lives and he is aboard the Intrepid! But what happened to Garrett?

  Desperate to find out, she dressed as quickly as she could, while trying to remember how to wear each of the various items. When at last she was finished, she tore down the circular staircase, then searched the various rooms, looking for Emily and Eli. At last she found Emily in the kitchen, where she was busily working some dough with a rolling pin and humming to herself. Constance embraced her joyously, nearly lifting the startled black woman off her feet.

  “Oh, Emily!” she shouted. “How I have missed you!”

  Emily gave Constance a curious look before going back to rolling her dough.

  “I am not surprised,” she said laconically. “Eli and me thought you were going to sleep the whole day away, girl.”

  Constance looked at her questioningly.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “It’s goin’ on noon,” Emily answered.

  Constance took a moment to look around the kitchen. Despite how long it had been for her, everything seemed just as it was before her nightmarish journey had begun. The cupboards, countertops, larders, and the big woodstove all seemed to speak to her like old friends. Then she remembered Garrett again.

  “Tell me,” she said to Emily, “have there been any gentleman callers lately?”

  “Nope,” Emily answered, still working diligently on her biscuit dough. “But why would you be asking such a thing anyway, Miss Constance? You’ve done been here just as much as me, and Eli. If’n anybody had come around, you’d have known it.”

  Emily was right, of course, given her limited perspective. So far as she and Eli knew, Constance had presumably retired as usual last night, and then simply awakened late this morning. Even so, that still didn’t explain what had become of Garrett. Knowing that she had to find out, Constance made for the kitchen door.

  “I’m going for a walk, Emily,” she said.

  Emily raised an eyebrow.

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “Just around the property,” Constance answered. “It is a lovely day, and I want to stretch my legs.”

  Constance first circled Seaside slowly, looking everywhere, but Garrett did not appear. That was not a surprise, because Brooke Wentworth had said that only one person would be able to see and hear him, should he become resigned to Constance’s previous fate. As she passed before the front of the house, she noticed Adam’s sailboat bobbing lightly at anchor in the bay, and she smiled as she was reminded of her flashback with him.

  She then headed toward the back of the house again and walked the short distance to where Eli and Emily lived. On entering the smaller home she looked everywhere, but again Garrett was not to be found. She then searched the barn thoroughly, lingering for a few moments at the small corner on the second floor where, in a different life and time, she had often come seeking refuge. After still finding no trace of Garrett, she finally returned to the house, where she took a seat on the veranda.

  Despite her joyous return here, Constance soon began to weep. She now knew that she would never see Garrett again, or hear his voice, or feel his gentle touch. The one man who could have helped her had somehow found his way to her, loved her unconditionally, and had then been willing to literally lose his life to set her free. But now, he was no more. In truth, she might never really know whether Garrett had been killed by the fall, or whether he had become trapped for all time by the mora mortis. If Brooke had been right that day, then it was the latter, and for that Constance was very sorry.

  But what would happen to her now? Constance wondered. Although she was home at last, it would take time for her to fully adjust. Still, she was beyond happy. She had taken an amazing, decades-long trip into the future and returned, an experience that would no doubt prove to be unlike any other in her life. She also realized that she now knew things about this world’s future of which no one else on the planet could ever dream. Best of all there was a chance, albeit a slim one, that Adam might still be alive. Despite how much she had cared for Garrett, and how grateful she would forever be for his willingness to help save her, she desperately yearned to be in her husband’s arms again.

  Was that too much to hope for? she wondered. Perhaps. But for now, it was a chance to which she would cling with all her heart.

  Chapter 33

  During the next few months, Constance gradually settled into her new life. Truth be told, hers was not a “new” existence, but an old one. Eli and Emily were just as she remembered them, and whether she was experiencing a challenging day or an easy one, she was always thrilled by her surroundings.

  Among all the changes, none was greater than the return of her appetite. A few hours after searching for Garrett that first day, she suddenly realized she was ravenous. Like the unexpected return of some old friend, it was a welcome experience. She had immediately asked Emily for something to eat, whereupon Emily rustled up some fried chicken, collard greens, and warm biscuits made from the dough she had prepared that morning.

  There were other changes, as well. Although she had Eli and Emily to help her, she had forgotten how rigorous life in this era could be. She helped tend the animals, cleaned and cooked, and for the first week was absolutely exhausted. Even so she didn’t mind, because she was doing things that she loved, and it felt wonderful to be useful again.

  Compared to the decades-long deterioration of Seaside that she had seen, her home was beautiful. Seaside was exactly how it would have appeared, had Garrett been able to finish his restoration. Constance could only hope that one day someone else might own Seaside who also fully appreciated it.

  Despite all her newfound happiness, there remained two great disappointments. The first was that the Intrepid had yet to return. She was again climbing to the widow’s walk twice daily to search
for her husband’s ship. There she would sit on the bench and use Adam’s old spyglass to carefully scour the bay and horizon, looking for a vessel flying a bright red pennant. Given all the possibilities that Brooke had mentioned, Constance couldn’t know whether Adam would ever come home. However she refused to abandon these little rituals, for if her incredible journey had taught her anything, it was the amazing power of perseverance.

  It was midmorning of a Tuesday. Eli and Emily were busily working in the house, while Constance sat alone on the veranda. Looking down, she again saw the locket containing Adam’s portrait that she still wore. Even after so many years, it meant more to her now than ever. She opened the old locket and again looked at her husband’s likeness. How she wished that he would return to her! Her needs for him were both emotional and physical, and despite that Eli and Emily believed only a few months had passed, for Constance it been many long decades.

  The second disappointment was that there had been no sign from Garrett. She had hoped that he might display some indication of his presence, as she had done for him, that day with Jay Morgan. However nothing had happened, causing her to finally accept that Garrett was dead.

  He died for me, she thought sadly, and I will never forget him. In the end I could not love him as he loved me, and I believe he knew that. Still, he went to his death saving me. How I wish he could have known that he succeeded, and that I arrived back here safely.

  Constance gathered up her spyglass and began making for the widow’s walk. On reaching the roof she took her usual seat on the bench. Before searching the ocean, she paused for a moment to regard this simple structure of wood and nails that had been the catalyst of her amazing journey.