The light left.
Cid looked over at Bridgeton who was speaking seriously with Kiki. He took a card she handed him, and she shook his hand before she joined them.
“So do we get the renovation job?” Jesse asked.
“He thinks he has to wait until the will goes through probate. But he has okayed a sum to fix the floor.”
“Not it!” Cid and Jesse said at the same time.
“I’m giving it to Gary on the condition he uses local laborers to complete the job,” Kiki said. “Jesse, you’re going to be on paid sick leave. Cid, you’re fired.”
Cid smiled. He was glad. He couldn’t wait to get back home to see Sally.
A big hand fell on Jesse’s shoulders. “Where are my boots?”
“Soon to be buried in the walnut grove,” Jesse said. “Along with your handkerchief and your undershirt. Your flannel shirt is in the bottom stair in the west room. Kiki will reimburse you for your losses.”
“I will?” Kiki asked.
“Those were some expensive boots. I’m on sick leave. Where am I going to get the money for those?” Jesse asked, squirming out of Wayne’s grasp. He ran up the stairs and out of sight.
Wayne laughed. “Those weren’t my Sunday boots. It unnerves me to think that we share a shoe size. My feet are enormous.”
“Well, you know what they say about big feet…” Kiki started.
Cid clamped his hands over his ears and walked away.
~
The grove was silent. Jesse, who was happy to be back in his own clothes, stood holding the boots, one filled with congealed blood, the other empty.
“Why did you bring both?” Murphy asked.
“I don’t know, it seemed right at the time.” Jesse had Carl carry the undershirt. The more the air got to the compressed bones, the more it weighed. Cid placed it in one open grave and the boots in another.
“I know they are long gone, but it still feels like something is here,” Jesse said rubbing his arms.
“We didn’t dig them up. Some other force that came in a rush of wind from the lake did. Murphy opened the graves with his axe. I imagine there may still be residual energy in the grove,” Cid theorized.
“Should we say words?” Murphy asked. “Father Santos has already left to take Father Simon to get his ribs looked at.”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. Carl, you went to religious school. Would you mind?” Cid asked.
“I don’t mind. It would be a pleasure. Lord, we have four sinners trying to do justice to six lost souls, five of whom have crossed over and one who has turned to ash. May no one ever find themselves in the shoes of these people. May evil leave the weak-minded people be. And may the good step up and lead them to the light. In our Lord Jesus’s name, Amen.”
“Good words,” Murphy said. “I’ll be waiting in the truck, Cid.”
“We won’t be long,” Cid said, picking up a shovel.
Before Cid could plant it in the pile of dirt, a whirlwind formed at the edge of the grove. Jesse pulled Cid and Carl back away from the graves. The dirt flowed over the graves as if it were water. The massive stone slabs flipped back over to cover the graves. The north stone laying on the ground vibrated.
“I think that one is up to us,” Carl said. “Help me put it back.”
Together, the men managed to right the stone, and Cid filled in the dirt on either side of the small monolith. The wind moved back to the lake, and all was quiet again in the walnut grove.
~
Jesse closed his eyes as they pulled out of Walnut Grove House’s parking lot. He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to.
Cid assumed Jesse was dead tired, and he and Murphy listened to Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” until Cid could take it no more. “Sorry, Stephen, but I’d like a little silence.”
“Silence is good,” Murphy said. He could tell by Jesse’s breathing that he wasn’t sleeping, but he wasn’t going to rat him out.
“You did well, grasshopper,” the voice in Jesse’s head said.
“Who are you?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, I guess not. Thank you.”
“You are welcome. Peace be with you.”
Jesse opened his eyes. “Heavens to Murgatroyd!”
“What’s the matter?” Cid asked.
“You just drove through a person.”
“No thump. It must have been a ghost,” Cid said amused.
Jesse put his hand over his eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying not to flinch as you drive through those ghosts. Why are they dancing?”
Cid’s phone pinged.
“Could you look at that?” Cid asked.
Jesse concentrated on the phone. “It’s from Lazar Popov. I need your code to continue.”
Cid gave him the code.
“He says that I’m to be put up in the guestroom of the main house. You’re not to take no for an answer. There is a postscript of: Sit on him if you have to.”
“That would be from Mia. She believes in the power of straddling one into submission.”
Jesse lifted an eyebrow and said, “You really don’t know the inappropriate things you say, do you?”
Cid ignored the comment. “I’m going to drop you, the truck and trailer off. I’ll take Ethan’s jeep. I expect you can find your way into the house.”
“I expect I can.”
“Ethan will be there, so you won’t starve,” Cid said.
“I take it you’re going to see Sally.”
“Yes. All may be in vain because I fear it’s too late for visiting hours.”
“I know a way in,” Murphy said manifesting. “But I won’t tell you until you put the music back on.”
“I can sing it to you,” Jesse offered. “Crazy. I’m crazy for feeling so lonely…”
“Stop!” Murphy said and disappeared.
“Well, now I’m insulted,” Jesse said.
“You’re no Patsy Cline,” Cid said.
“Evidently not,”
