out to the garage where a black Cadillac Escalade was parked. The bright sunshine washing over the driveway was a welcomed sight.
Scout opened the backdoor of the Escalade. “Climb in before someone spots us,” he told Catherine
Scout lifted Raven’s unconscious body into the backseat and rested her head on Catherine’s lap. He crawled up behind the steering wheel, using the keys he took from Patrick, he cranked the engine over and sped past the two wide-eyed teenagers circling around the side of the house.
THIRTY-SIX
“Are you sure it’s safe to be outside?” Molly asked. She wasn’t exactly thrilled, and a little grossed out, when Jimmy explained what they were about to do.
“No, but I’m sick of being indoors.” Jimmy said. He tested the ground in the backyard with a shovel. “Frozen solid. This isn’t going to be easy.” Jimmy spit into his hands and rubbed them together. He pulled his hat down tight and a giant smile stretched across his face. He drove his foot down hard on the shovel and broke ground.
Molly followed Ginger to the second floor and checked out what it was they were supposed to do. In silence, they viewed the pictures on the dresser and the decomposing couple lying in their bed. They read the note and they cried and they hugged each other.
Carefully they bundled the couple into their blankets and secured them together with rope that Ginger had found. They carried the couple downstairs.
Jimmy tossed the shovel out of the grave he had just completed. He smiled at them before running his sweaty arm across his face, leaving a streak of mud on his cheek.
“It’s not quite six feet, but it’ll do,” he said. “You guys did a nice job wrapping them up like that. I think Jonathan would be pleased.”
Molly exchanged smiles with Ginger. For such a grizzly task, Jimmy’s compliment left Molly satisfied about what they were doing for Jonathan and his Jane.
The sun heated the day from straight overhead, making the world bright. Molly found it odd that she felt happy when everything else going on around them was out of control, and for some strange reason that was okay. She peeled off her sweater, leaving behind her white T-shirt; the day having grown too hot for layers. She enjoyed the warm sun on her skin again. This winter had been the longest one ever, even longer than the winter when everyone died.
“I have an idea,” Ginger said, and ran back inside the house.
Jimmy settled the remains gently into the bottom of the hole, and then reached up so Molly could help him climb out. He grabbed the shovel and began burying the couple together in their grave.
Ginger walked out with her arms full of boards, a hammer, a screwdriver, and a can of paint. She set everything on the wooden deck.
“Can I help?” Molly asked.
Ginger handed her the small can of paint. “Shake that up.”
Molly shook the paint as though it were a birthday present. “Wasn’t that the sign hanging over the bed in the guestroom?”
“Yep,” Ginger said, sawing a board at one end.
Molly watched amazed at how confident Ginger handled the tools. The other girl was always trying something new and that’s what made her so good at everything. Molly wasn’t jealous over Ginger’s many talents any longer, she just felt inspired. Ginger finished sawing off two corners so now the four-foot board had a pointy end.
Molly switched hands and continued shaking. The sound of Jimmy shoveling added a nice steady rhythm. Scoop-plop-scoop-plop-scoop-plop. That and the gentle swooshing of her paint can maraca reminded Molly of “The Little Mermaid” they had watched last month on “Generator Movie Night.” Now all they needed were some singing fish.
Ginger hammered a nail through the sign, attaching it to the board. She pounded in a couple more for a sturdier connection.
“Okay. Now it’s your turn.”
A thrill raced through Molly. “What do I get to do?”
Ginger produced a paintbrush from her back pocket. “You get to paint.”
Molly pried the lid up with the screwdriver. A thick, navy soup waited inside. She dipped the narrow bristles into the can and allowed the excess to drip off.
“What do I paint?”
“Just change that one word to read ‘From,’” Ginger said.
Molly smiled with understanding. She made the changes with careful brush strokes and then sat back, happy with her work.
“Perfect,” Ginger said. “Now we wait a minute and let the sunshine do its job.”
Jimmy scooped on the last load of dirt and started smoothing out the mound with the back of the shovel. When he finished, he leaned the shovel against a tall tree whose limbs were speckled with green buds and grabbed his water bottle. He took a long drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Then he washed the dirt off his hands and face. When he looked up and caught Molly staring, he gave her a little wink. Her cheeks flared with warmth and she tried to think of other things—like Hunter. It wasn’t too difficult.
“Are we ready?” Jimmy asked.
Ginger handed the grave marker to Molly. “You do the honors.”
Molly carried the cross to the head of the burial mound. She pushed down on top, sliding the pointy end into the turned earth.
Jimmy read, “From Our Guest, A Place to Rest.”
“You should keep this.” Ginger handed Jimmy the note that Jonathon had written.
He nodded, read the note aloud for them to share one last time, and pocketed it. “I’m thankful for my time well spent,” Jimmy said.
Ginger followed. “I’m thankful we found this house so we could bury Jonathan and Jane together the way he wanted.”
Molly knew what she was thankful for right away. The old Molly would probably laugh and say she was being a stupid bitch. “I’m thankful for my friends,” Molly said. The old Molly never knew what it meant to have friends, because she never took the time to be one.
Ginger wrapped her soft arms around Molly in a tight embrace. Jimmy joined them and kissed Molly’s forehead.
He said, “Not just friends, Molly…”
“…We’re family now,” Ginger finished.
Molly found it funny, discovering true joy at the foot of a grave. Finally, she felt complete. This was the perfect moment.
“They’re over here. This way,” Catherine’s voice floated over the fence.
“How do you know?” They heard Scout call. He sounded tired and strained.
Catherine opened the gate from the alley and led Scout into the backyard. He carried Raven’s unconscious body in his arms and a large amount of worry in his eyes.
“Because, silly, my friend told me so,” Catherine said.
She headed straight for the tree and hugged the trunk. All the thousands of buds dotting every limb, branch, and twig suddenly unraveled and expanded into a brilliant green canopy that spread its comforting shade over the silent grave. Everyone gasped in shock and awe as Catherine appeared to be listening to something the rest of them were unable to hear.
“Oh, wasn’t that nice,” she said.
“What?” Jimmy asked with stunned eyes.
