Seventeen
We unloaded our bags and cooler and sat down in lawn chairs to gaze out across the calm river, both shaking like a leaf, but trying desperately to hide it. It was so quiet and peaceful here, almost hard to believe that we were actually waiting for a ghost to appear and show us where his mother’s bones were buried. When did I grow a backbone?
Two hours later we were still waiting. And eating. “I wonder what he’s waiting for?” I was munching on a ham sandwich, chips and a pickle and peering cautiously into the increasingly dark night filled with flickering lightening bugs. The full moon and thousands of stars reflected and shimmered on the water casting an eerie glow over us. Crickets were singing and bullfrogs were croaking like there was no tomorrow. “I just want to get this over with and move on with my ever exciting life.”
“I don’t imagine ghosts follow a time schedule as we do.” She forked out the last pickle.
I was about to ask for half the pickle when I heard thrashing about in the nearby trees and almost jumped out of my carcass. I do believe poor Teri swallowed that four inch pickle whole. “I do wish you would stop using that word.”
“What word? Ghost?” She was busy peeling the wrapper from a raisin cake, but her hands were suddenly trembling so badly I imagined she would have to pour the crumbs into her mouth. “Face it, Eve. That’s what Seth is. Ghost. Poltergeist. Spirit. Hobgoblin. Whatever he is, he needs our help. But it’s damn creepy in these woods tonight.”
“Must you call him Seth?”
“Why ever not? For crying out loud that’s his name.”
“Still, there’s no need for us to try to get too… chummy with him.” We hadn’t heard giggling or been the target of any well-aimed projectiles since our arrival, so hopefully the child was otherwise occupied. “It’s getting late. Maybe he’s asleep.”
“More likely out gallivanting with the other spooks, Eve. I don’t think they sleep.”
“God, I hope there aren’t any others. I don’t want to be one of those people who sees dead people.”
“Not to burst your bubble, sweetie, but I would say you already are. In my opinion, little Seth is about as dead as dead can get and you have definitely seen him.” The thrashing sound was getting closer. Too close for comfort, in fact. Even Teri was beginning to look a little green around the gills. “It’s probably just an animal.”
“That’s what I thought in the cornfields.”
“Oh. Right.” She nervously glanced around, then pulled the last raisin cake out of the box. “It’s really dark in these woods at night.”
Suddenly the noises around us seemed to be amplified. The jumping fish sounded like whales splashing in the river. The minks and beavers climbing up the riverbank sounded like Brahma Bull's pawing the earth. The chorus of insects blended to produce a high pitched steady drone and the thrashing sound had stopped. Only a few feet from our campsite.
It was 2:00 am. We were still sitting and trembling, we would have been eating if there had been so much as a crumb left. “I just can’t sit here all night waiting for that little hellion to make an appearance.” Teri stood brushing the crumbs from her shirt and shorts with suddenly jittery hands.
Could it be? Was the imperturbable Teri actually getting unnerved? I knew the answer was yes when she said, “Let’s go home. Evidently, Seth had other plans tonight. He’s probably romping through the cornfield with the other sprites.”
She was scared shitless. So was I. It took us less than a minute to be in the truck and headed up the river road. Neither of us spoke until we were past the cornfields.
Trust me, it’s quite challenging to drive with your eyes closed.
Teri’s courage returned when we were past the gate. “What’s up with Seth? He gave us the journal and now he has decided to be disagreeable again. Why didn’t he show us where his mother is buried, if he expects us to help him? I have a life you know.”
“He doesn’t, so it’s probably not a big deal to him. But what if he doesn’t know where her body is?”
“You know, I hadn’t thought of that. You’re absolute right. Duh!” Teri slapped her hand against her forehead. “If he knew where she was, he would be with her. That’s why he needs you. To find where his mother is buried. It seems like we are back to square one, doesn’t it?”
Then I had an epiphany. “I wonder if Lady Wonder could tell us where she’s buried?”
“I suppose it’s worth a shot. But I am booked solid next week. Would she talk to you on the phone?”
“I doubt it. I can take the day off Monday and ride down to see her. It’s no big deal. I need a break from the county offices anyway. Honestly, I have never been confronted with filth on such a grand scale before. It boggles the mind.”
On Monday morning after leaving instructions with my crew I set out on the three-hour drive. I was happily munching a Twix and sipping Diet Pepsi when Kelly Clarkson’s song Because Of You came on the radio. That song reminded me of Adam. “Because of you I stay on the safe side so I don’t get hurt”. So true! Tell it like it is girlfriend! It would be a long, long time before I put my heart back on the chopping block, to be callously shredded into bite sized pieces again, if ever.
I pulled off the exit, traveled the dusty, rutted road and parked behind the doublewide trailer. I found the waiting room packed as usual, so I plopped down on the crackling plastic and picked up an old People magazine. It must be the only magazine she subscribed to. I immersed myself in the lives of the rich and famous and came to the conclusion that fame and fortune, more often than not, spell misery.
The room was again crowded. Although this group was a decidedly more miserable lot than on my first visit, with complaints of woe and misery most often heard in the Deep South.
One white lady’s daughter was pregnant with a black man’s child. Oh! The absolute shame! I wanted to smack her silly. Couldn’t she just pray for a healthy baby and not go nuts over the hue of a precious, innocent child’s skin? I can’t abide prejudice in any form.
Okay! Okay! I know what you are thinking!
Chia is Asian.
And admittedly, I detest and loathe her with a passion that alarms even me. But I would feel the same deep abiding repugnance if she were American, Hispanic, French, Spanish, Italian or Icelandic. My feelings for the slut are directed toward her as an individual. Actually, come to think of it, I have a strong dislike for married trollops of any nationality.
I have absolutely no problems with the remaining Asian populace. They are a wonderful people, judging from the ones I have met. It’s my fervent belief that those who choose to snub their noses at an entire race from God’s creation - be it the color of their skin, the slant of their eyes or a language barrier- are playing with fire in its hottest form. So, please believe that I am in no way prejudiced, with the exception of home wrecking adulteresses.
Another woman's husband had invested their life savings in row upon row of now defunct chicken houses. She seemed inconsolable about the fact that they were surely destined for a life on the streets, since they were down to their last twenty dollars. I could definitely feel for her. However, my frugal self would have been more inclined to spend my last $15.00 toward a loaf of bread and a jar of long lasting peanut butter.
After what turned out to be only an hour and forty-five minute wait I was summoned to enter. I remembered nervously expecting to find dim lights, candles and a crystal ball on my first visit, but had found nothing of the sort. It was a normal sitting room that reminded me of my grandmother’s house.
“I desperately need your help,” I said to Lady Wonder as I sank down into the white leather wing chair. “We have quite the quandary back home.”
“I see,” she said, perched on the edge of her chair with a far away look in her eyes. “Tell me about this quandary and how I can help.”
“Well, there was this lady, a slave lady, who lived close to where I live now on a plantation called Almond House.”
“Buttercup,” she said looking at something or someone over my shoulder.
It would seem that Sylvia Browne definitely had some competition. “Yes. That’s right. Her name was Buttercup.”
“Seth’s mother,” she continued, slipping easily into a trance. “The child has been searching for his mother for over a century. He refuses to cross over to the other side without her.”
“Can you tell me how Buttercup died?”
Her eyes took on a distressed gaze before she closed them and leaned back in her chair. Her pinched lips turned white as a soft, low moan escaped. “She was poisoned. It was a horrible, painful death and she suffered tremendously… I see her spitting up blood. Her body is on fire and the searing pain in her stomach is excruciating. The pain is eating through her stomach and she fears it will soon reach her baby.”
“She sees the woman who poisoned her sitting in the dark corner, smiling. Buttercup pleads for help. She pleads for her unborn child. She pleads for mercy. She pleads for Delbert. But the woman only laughs and says, “Delbert cannot help you now. Rot in hell with your bastard children!”
It took a few minutes for Lady Wonder’s eyes to focus and her expression to return to normal. “The woman in the corner was evil.”
“Undoubtedly.”
“However, she knew nothing about running a plantation that size. Within three years after her husband’s death she was penniless. She died a lonely, miserable old woman filled with hatred. Even her own children turned against her in the end.”
“Where did she bury Buttercup?”
She glanced over my shoulder, presumably at her spirit guide, and said, “She lies beneath a buckeye tree.”
“A buckeye tree?” I had never heard of such a tree. Of course, it would be a tree I had never heard of. I wouldn’t have expected less.
“Yes, a buckeye. A nut from the buckeye tree is thought to be a good luck charm. In those days, if you carried a buckeye in your pocket it was considered to bring you good luck. Some older people today still search for buckeye trees and carry the nuts in their pockets for luck. The same way you would carry a rabbit’s foot today.”
“The tree didn’t bring Buttercup much luck, did it?”
“The tree wasn’t there when Buttercup was buried. She carried a buckeye in her pocket for luck, as did most all slaves of her time. She was buried at the top of a hill in bright sunlight and the buckeye sprouted in the moist earth, took root, and grew into a tall tree shading her final resting place.
“You mean to tell me that the tree, that will lead us to where she is buried, grew from a nut that she carried in her pocket when she was murdered?”
“Yes.”
“Where is the tree?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. I can only see the tall tree on top of a high hill in bright sunlight. There is moving water in the background.”
“A river?”
“Yes.”
“We think Seth wants us to dig up his mother’s remains and bury her in the family cemetery with him and his father.”
“That would be impossible to accomplish,” she said, shaking her head sadly.
“Why? We have to bury him with his mother! That kid will haunt me forever if I don’t!”
“Because her bones are wrapped among the roots of the tree and would most likely be turned to dust by now.”
“Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You will need to dig up the child’s remains and bury him underneath the buckeye tree. He can’t find where his mother was buried. That is why he searches night after night, year after year. That is why he came to you for help. He, like you, had bad experiences as a child. Seth was frequently molested by an overseer on the plantation. He sees you as a kindred spirit.”
She knew what had happened to me when I was four! She was the one person who could answer my remaining question. “The man who hurt me. Is he still alive?”
“Yes. He is in prison. He molested several more children before he was finally caught.”
“Will he be paroled?”
“No, he will die in prison at the hands of a fellow inmate.”
“Thank God.”
She took my hands in hers and squeezed them gently. “If you bury Seth under the tree with his mother they will both rest in peace.”
“We just have to find the tree.”
“Yes, you have to find the tree. “
I got up to leave, but decided that I couldn’t without asking one more question. “I know this is quite a departure from the subject, but how are Adam and Chia doing?”
“Not good I’m afraid. The love he felt for her is almost completely gone. He realizes that she never really loved him, only what he was capable of giving her. And give to her he did. He is on the verge of filing bankruptcy. Their marriage is over. Happiness for Adam is now a thing of the past.”
“Maybe he will meet someone else and be happy again.”
“No. He will never be happy again. I told you once before that he would suffer as you were suffering, only worse. That is coming to pass now.”
Yes, she had told me that. I actually felt sorry for Adam if he was destined to suffer worse than I had. I couldn’t imagine anyone even surviving that. “Will I ever fall in love again?”
“Yes, but not this year. You’re not ready yet. We will discuss that the next time you come.”
“There might not be a next time. So you better tell me now,” I pleaded, impatiently.
“You will come back.” Then she held out her hand for her money signaling that our time was up.
When I was settled in the car I called Teri. “Buttercup is buried under a buckeye tree.”
“A what tree?”
“A buckeye tree. Buttercup had a buckeye in her pocket, for luck, it sprouted and grew into a tall tree that now shades her grave. Have you ever heard anything so unbelievable?” She was speechless, so I guessed she hadn’t. “We just have to find the tree. I’ll go online when I get home and try to find a picture of one and send it to you.”
“Did she tell you anything about how Buttercup died?”
“Yes, unfortunately poor Buttercup was poisoned and suffered a horrible, painful death at the hands of Mary Beth Almond. The evil woman sat in the corner smiling and told Buttercup and her bastard children to rot in hell. Can you believe what a monster she was?”
“The evil conniving bitch.”
“Lady Wonder said she was evil, but she got hers. She couldn’t run the plantation and within three years she was penniless and died lonely and miserable.”
“Well, that settles that. What about you? Did she tell you what to expect in the future?”
“I am going to fall in love again, but not this year. I’m not ready. She will tell me more whenever I go for my next visit.”
“Anything else?”
“Adam is miserable and will never be happy again.”
“That made your day didn’t it?”
“Not really. It was sort of ominous the way she said it, like his ship was headed for some stormy seas.”
“Serves the buffoon right.”
“Can you believe that I don’t even care what happens to him anymore, one way or the other? It’s like he was a part of my life ten years ago, instead of only a couple of months ago. Wow! It used to take me years to get over a man.”
“Marilyn is a miracle worker. She certainly turned your life around for the better. But I have a head to shampoo. I’ll call you tonight.”
“Bye.”
At home, I immediately went online in search of information about buckeye trees. After typing the name into a search engine my first several finds were about trees grown in Ohio. That wasn’t what I was looking for. I scrolled down to the bottom of the page and found a map. Yellow buckeyes were found in zones 4 and 8. So I was looking for a Yellow Buckeye Tree. This time the search engine found listings for everything from the National Forestry Service, that showed you everything from how to grow a tree, to Magic Mojo websites that showed you how to cast a love spell. Good thing I hadn’t found that website months earlier!
One website claimed the buckeye had beneficial purposes for arthritis, rheumatism and male vigor. The wood had a variety of uses as well. Coffins and artificial limbs had once been made from the wood and, it was true, they were considered to be a good luck charm. I printed out a picture of the tree and called Teri with the information.
“I’ll be over Friday when I get off work,” she said. “Seth will be just elated when we lead him to his mother!”
“Yeppers. Elated. I can hardly wait.”
As good as her word, Teri arrived at my house the following Friday night around midnight. “The husband thinks you and I are having a lesbian affair!” She laughed uproariously.
“Oh, good grief! What on earth makes the poor decrepit soul think that?”
“Because I’ve been spending so much time with you lately. You know how jealous he’s always been of our friendship anyway. Why, the man has taken to whining on a daily basis of how upsetting it is that I would rather be with you than him. Duh! I swear him and Mallory are two peas in a pod with all their caterwauling!
“Why didn’t you just tell him the truth, about Seth?”
“Are you crazy! He could divorce me on grounds of insanity and sometimes I think he is just looking for a reason.”
“Even if he didn’t love you madly, which he does, he would never divorce you. Sometimes I get the feeling he is slightly intimidated by you.”
“If he isn’t, he damn well should be.”
“Well, it’s late and I am totally exhausted. Are you ready for bed?” I stood provocatively at the foot of the bed and simpered, “Perhaps you should sleep in JoJo’s bed, since you evidently have the hots for me and might not be able to control your lust.”
“Honey, if I was interested in you or any other female, I wouldn’t have let them take a scalpel to my pecker.”
“True, but dang,” I teased as I was drifting into a dream filled sleep. “Here I thought I might get a little action tonight after my long dry spell.”