Dark Corner Part 9

"We will begin digging here," he said.

"We gonna be digging into this mountain?" Andre said.

"It is not a mountain," Mamu said. His lips curved into a mysterious smile. "It is a cave."

Chapter 5.

' round half-past midnight, David parked in front of Nia's l lhouse.

"Want to take a walk?" Nia said. "I'm not ready to go in yet"

"Sure. But you know, people in Atlanta don't walk around the neighborhood at this hour"

"Let go of that big city paranoia, sweetie," she said. She pinched his cheek. "It's safe here."

They climbed out of the truck. David glanced at the front windows of her house. A curtain dropped, as if someone was spying on them and didn't want to be seen.

"Your mother, huh?" he said. "She's up late."

"Oh, yeah. Mama won't go to bed until I come in. That's how she is."

"Are you and your mother close?"

"We are," Nia said. "Maybe too close. I love Mama, but she can be overprotective. She's always been like that with me, her only girl, and what happened in Houston only makes her worry more"

They took each other's hand-it felt like a natural gesture they had been doing for years-and strolled along the sidewalk.

The neighborhood was quiet and peaceful. Lights shone in the windows of many homes, but almost as many other houses were dark. Cicadas, crickets, and other night creatures sang their timeless songs. A balmy breeze riffled the trees.

"Have you mentioned anything to your mother about me?" he said.

"Are you kidding?" Nia said. "She'd tie me to a chair to keep me from leaving unless I told her who you were"

"What did she say?"

"You don't want to know."

"Why?"

"Let's just say that Mama knew your father's reputation for being a player, back in the day. In her opinion, 'the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree.' I'm putting it more nicely than she did."

"Great. So your mother doesn't trust me"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. You just be your normal, sweet self."

Ahead, there was a small playground with swings, a slide, monkey bars, and a couple of wooden benches. Nia sat on the bench and pulled him down beside her. A street lamp cast golden light over them.

They turned to face one another. David could feel the desire building between them. He stroked the back of her neck. She put her soft hand against his cheek.

They kissed, lightly at first, then, more deeply.

"Do you realize," she said, "that we've spent almost the entire day together?"

"And the day has pa.s.sed way too quickly," he said, and kissed her again. Moaning softly, she ran her fingers through his short hair. She shifted her body to mesh into his.

He placed his hand on her thigh, stroked her smooth skin. She felt so good against him that he never wanted to move. The scent of her perfume enveloped him like a sweet fog.

What a fine, fine woman. Feminine and s.e.xy, yet independent and strong. A perfect blend of every quality he had ever dreamed of finding in a woman. If Nia were a drink, he would've drunk himself into a stupor.

He didn't know how long they kissed-time stood motionless as their lips and tongues flowed together but at some point, when his eyes were open for an instant, he glimpsed the Mason place in the distance, between the tree branches. Light glowed faintly at the windows.

His stomach heaved, as though he had swallowed something sour. Reluctantly, he broke off their kiss.

"What's wrong?" she said. "You look like you've bitten into a rotten apple."

"That house" He pointed behind her. "Something about it really bothers me"

Frowning, she looked over her shoulder. "The Mason place?"

"I get a bad feeling every time I look at it. A feeling that something isn't quite right there"

Her voice lowered. "It's supposed to be haunted, did you know that?"

"I've heard. Someone just moved in there, too"

"What? Who?"

"I don't know who, but when Chief Jackson stopped by, he said someone had moved into the place. He didn't say much else about it. What do you know about the house?"

"Only the basics. I know that the man who founded the town, Ed Mason, ran his plantation from there. He was known for being cruel to his slaves. Around the time of the Civil War, his slaves revolted and killed him-they hung him from a tree. But many of the slaves who took part in the insurrection were then killed themselves by the authorities. A lot of bloodshed happened up there"

"What about these tales of the house being haunted?"

She smiled, but it was a nervous smile. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Definitely, now that you've got me curious."

"Okay," she said. She drew a breath. "My brothers and I went up there, once. I was nine, I think ... they would've been eleven and thirteen. Like I told you earlier, the three of us were always into stuff we had no business doing. We got the bright idea in our heads that we'd see if the Mason place was really haunted.

"We rode our bikes up there one summer afternoon. Eric, the eldest, led the way, I was in the middle, and Robert brought up the rear. We left our bikes at the gate, then climbed the fence. There were so many tall, old trees up there, throwing deep shadows everywhere. And it was so still, too, like the quiet before a storm.

"We walked down the path, to the mansion. We were bunched so closely together I'm surprised we didn't stumble over one another's shoes.

"We'd decided that we were just going to look in a window. But we had to get close to do it. We had to go onto the veranda. We climbed the steps and walked across the veranda, trying to keep from tripping on all the vines that covered everything. We went up to one of the front windows. It was covered with dirt, so Eric cleaned a spot with his shirt. Then we looked inside."

"What did you see?" David said. Although she was telling the story, his own heart hammered.

"We saw a gray-haired white man, dressed in a black suit. He sat in a rocking chair in the living room. I could see every detail about him-it was Edward Mason. For real. I recognized him from pictures. His face was bluish, and his eyes bulged. He looked like someone who had been cut from the noose after he'd been hanging for a while. He turned and looked right at us.

"I think all of our hearts froze. We were paralyzed. The man rose up out of that chair-floated out of the chair, really-and started to come toward us. He levitated through the air, walking, but his feet weren't touching the floor.

"We snapped out of our daze and ran away from the house, screaming. I was as fast as my brothers, and I don't ever remember running so fast. But as we were bolting across the yard, there were people watching us from the shadows under the trees. Black people dressed in work clothes, like slaves on a plantation. I couldn't see them clearly-they flickered, sort of, like images cast by a film projector. But they were there. All of us saw them.

"My brothers and I hurdled that fence like it was only two feet high instead of six. Got on our bikes and zoomed away from there. I've never been back since, and never will if I can help it."

Finished speaking, she hugged herself. He put his arm around her, drew her closer.

He didn't need to ask her whether, in hindsight, she believed the incident had truly happened or was only the creation of a child's overactive imagination. Her reactions in recounting the story made it clear that she believed what she had seen, even nearly two decades afterward. He had no choice but to accept the reality of her experience. Although accepting the existence of ghosts was a stretch for him.

But I can't deny the feeling I get in the pit of my stomach when I look at that house.

"I need to stop asking so many questions," he said. "You ever heard that line, 'Don't ask a question if you aren't prepared for the answer'? I wasn't ready for your answer."

"I've never shared the story with anyone," she said. "I don't think my brothers have, either. After it happened, we never talked about it."

"I appreciate you sharing it with me, but I doubt that I'll bring it up again, anytime soon"

"Learn to do what I do, David: don't look at the Mason place. You'll feel better."

They rose from the bench and began to walk back to her house. She wrapped her arm around his waist and nestled her head against his shoulder. He held her protectively within the span of his arm.

When they reached the narrow walk that led to her front door, they faced each other, hands clasped together.

"I want to see you tomorrow," he said. Under normal circ.u.mstances, he'd never ask a woman out two days in a row. But nothing about their situation seemed normal to him. This was one of those rare times when all of the standard rules of dating were worthless.

"I was hoping you'd say that," she said. "I want to see you, too"

"I'm going to the church in the morning, New Life Baptist. How about you join me?"

"Oh, David, I would, but I have to meet a client tomorrow morning for a really big project" She tapped her lip. "How does dinner sound? I'll cook. Do you like lasagna?"

"Love it. So you can cook, too?"

"I'm Superwoman, baby, didn't you know that?"

He laughed. "What time?"

"Around three," she said. "We'll have dinner at my place, okay?"

"I'm there" He looked toward the house. A silhouetted shape waited behind the window. "Guess I'll meet your mother, too"

"Don't worry, David. She'll like you. She better, because Ilike you"

They melted into each other's arms and shared a fiery kiss.

"We better quit," he said. "Your mother's gonna come out here and beat me off of you with a broom"

"I'm a grown woman, sweetheart. Mama might make a comment, but that doesn't mean I have to listen to her." Her tongue darted across his neck. Then she bit his tender flesh there, lightly, and a shiver of pleasure rippled through him.

"Nia, Nia, Nia." He pulled her within his arms. "Who would've thought a walk in the park ..."

"I know," she said, her head buried against his chest. "I know."

They kissed again, and then she went inside, waving before she closed the door.

Without her presence, the night was dull. He realized how tired he was. He had been floating on an adrenaline high while in Nia's company, and in her absence, fatigue hit him.

But he wasn't too tired to remember to avoid looking at Jubilee as he drove home.

Nia's mother was waiting for her when she came inside.

"I thought I was going have to come out there and separate you two," Mama said. "It's not proper for a young woman to be kissing and carrying on outdoors, where everyone can see"

Nia dropped her purse on an end table, and sighed. She had hoped to make it to her bedroom with fielding only a minimum number of questions and comments about David, thinking that her mother would be too tired for much conversation. But one look at Mama swept away those hopes.

Sitting on the couch, Mama was wrapped in a green house robe and slippers. She had rollers in her hair, and a mug of coffee at her side. A crossword puzzle and a pencil lay across her lap, and she was wearing her gla.s.ses. Mama's eyes were alert, ready to probe.

I wish she'd get a life, Nia thought. Her mother had never remarried after Nia's father died twenty years ago, deciding to focus her energies on raising her three children. Nia and her brothers all graduated from college and established successful lives-but the downside of them growing up was that Mama hadn't had anything to occupy her time, outside of work and church. When Nia moved back in, however, Mama regressed into serious mothering mode.

"Mama, please," Nia said. "I'm tired."

"Don't Mama, please, me, Miss Nia James. You know better. Did you lose all your good sense while you were living in that evil, immoral city?"

In her mother's opinion, any city with a population greater than twenty thousand in other words, most cities in the world-deserved two labels: evil and immoral. But Mama had never lived outside of Mason's Corner. Her distasteful opinion of cities was formed by the unending series of sensational TV news and cop shows that she consumed for hours a day programs that exhibited crime, filth, immorality, and everything else that Mama found worthy of loathing.

"I'm twenty-seven," Nia said. "Not seventeen"

"I know how old you are, young lady. You're old enough to know better. I can see that this Hunter boy is going to be a bad influence on you. But considering his father, I would've expected nothing less."

Nia folded her arms across her chest. "David's a nice guy. You can't condemn him because of his father."

"Like father, like son," Mama said, with the familiar, Mama-knows-best tone that always set Nia's nerves on edge. "You don't know anything about this boy. You've known him for one day and already you're swooning over him."

"No, I'm not. We went to lunch and dinner; we had a good time. It's not like I'm having his baby."

"Not yet," Mama said. "The way that you and him were carrying on outside, it won't be long before you'll be announcing that you're pregnant. And he'll leave you then, yes he will, like his father left his mother. The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree"

"Why do you keep bringing David's father into this?" Nia said. "They are two completely different people."

"The man was a wh.o.r.e," Mama said. "An immoral, whorish man who used his fame to manipulate women"

"Like you?" The words spilled out of Nia.