Wonderland Creek Part 38

"Miss Opal died this morning."

"Oh, Maggie! No . . ." I moved into her arms, not sure who was comforting whom. Why did this have to happen now, just when Wayne Larkin had returned home? "I'm so sorry, Maggie."

"It wasn't unexpected. Miss Opal was ready to go. And she went peacefully, in her sleep."

I pulled away to wipe my tears. Maggie's face was dry. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. But would you please let everyone in town know? I'll need help burying her. I would like to hold her funeral tomorrow. She wanted to be buried in the family plot in town, behind the church."

"Yes, of course. But I'm worried about you, up here all alone."

"You don't need to be. Let's go inside, so we can talk. I'll make tea."

Maggie seemed so calm, but I couldn't help wondering if it was a facade. I remembered her telling me that she had lost her faith, and also that she'd planned to turn the gun on herself and join Hank and Rhoda Lee in the graveyard after killing Mack. With Miss Opal gone, I feared for her life, but I had no idea what to say.

"I'll be happy to stay here with you, now that June Ann and Feather have gone home," I said as Maggie poured the tea.

"Thank you, but Hank's brothers will be coming as soon as they hear the news."

That didn't ease my fears. I took a deep breath, praying for the right words. "You told me once how you didn't think G.o.d loved you-and I'd probably question His love, too, if I'd been through everything that you have. But I just want to say . . . you gave up your rich life in Boston because of your love for Hank, and you said it was what people did when they were in love. They made sacrifices for each other. Well, that's how you can know that Jesus loves you, Maggie. He came a lot farther than from Boston to Kentucky when He came down from heaven to earth. And He gave up so much more-for us. Including His life."

Maggie nodded faintly. Her eyes were still dry as she stared into her teacup.

"You used to love G.o.d, Maggie. Please give Him another chance."

She nodded again and breathed a sigh. "I'm going home, Allie. To Ma.s.sachusetts."

"For good?"

"For now, anyway. Maybe I'll be back, maybe not. I'm going to ask Hank's brothers to take over the farm." She looked up at me and her tears finally came. "I need time to heal. I've been messed up ever since Hank died. Taking care of Feather made me realize how much I want a family of my own again. Hank would have wanted me to keep on living. He'd be horrified by what I tried to do to Mack, and by how bitter I've become. I need some time away from here so I can get over everything." I reached for her hand and silently took it in my own. "Anyway . . . I suppose you'll be going home, too, Allie? Now that Mack can take care of Lillie again?"

She was right. There would be no reason to stay once Mack came home. But I was surprised to discover that I was no longer as desperate to return home as I once had been. "I think I'll be very sad to leave here," I told Maggie. "I've enjoyed being a packhorse librarian. But you're right, I will be leaving as soon as Mack returns. He went to Washington to talk to the mining officials about reopening the investigation into Hank's death. I expect him back any day."

"Be sure to let me know when you're ready to go. I'll give you a ride to the train station, if I'm still here."

"A ride?" I pictured us swaying up the road on the back of Maggie's mule with my suitcase tied on the animal's rear end.

"Yes. A ride in my car."

"You have a car? Where is it?"

"In my barn. Didn't you know that?" I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head in amazement. Maggie smiled. "How did you think I got into Pottstown to buy supplies and things?"

I put my hand over my mouth to try to hold back my laughter. It didn't work. My giggles sputtered out, and I laughed until the tears came. I felt terrible for losing control when Miss Opal lay dead in the next room, but I couldn't help it.

"What's so funny?" Maggie asked.

"If you had a car all this time, I could have left Acorn months ago!"

"That's true, but just think of all that you would have missed."

Yes. Just think.

I was reluctant to leave Maggie, even though she a.s.sured me that she would be fine. But I finally hugged her good-bye and rode back to town to tell everyone about Miss Opal. The packhorse ladies returned at the same time that I did, and I told them the sad news. They promised to spread the word to all the other folks in town.

"What a day!" I said to Miss Lillie as I sank into my chair behind the library desk. "People have been coming and going-Ike Arnett and Wayne Larkin and Miss Opal-and now Maggie will be leaving soon, too. How much more can happen in one day?"

"When it rains it pours, they say."

"How quickly everything can change."

No sooner had I spoken the words than I heard the kitchen door open and close. I didn't even have time to rise from my chair before Mack strode into the room, smiling and out of breath. He dropped his carpetbag on the floor and wrapped Miss Lillie in a tender hug. She was so tiny and he was so tall that Mack seemed to swallow her up. Tears filled my eyes to see them together.

"Praise the Good Lord! You're home!" she said, her voice m.u.f.fled against Mack's shirt. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the chair in the non-fiction room.

"Welcome home, Mack," I said, following them.

"Thanks. It's wonderful to be home. The big city is exciting, but I missed the hills and hollows. And I missed you, Lillie."

"Tell us about your trip, honey. Did those city people like your book?"

"Oh yes, ma'am. My editor sure did. Now we just have to wait and see what the publisher thinks."

I couldn't contain my excitement. "Mack, that's wonderful! I can't wait to read it. I've never met a real live author before."

"Have you met any dead ones?" he asked with a grin. "Because technically I'm still dead, you know."

"We're gonna have to fix that real soon, honey," Lillie said. "Now, what about those mining folks in Washington. Did you talk to them?"

"Yes, I had a very good meeting with them. I showed them the doc.u.ments I found and explained what Alice and I discovered at the mine. They promised to send a team out here to inspect the mine as soon as they can arrange it. They're going to reopen the investigation into Hank's death."

"Let's hope there's justice finally for Hank Coots," I said.

"Sounds like you got a lot done, honey. We're so glad you're back."

"There's one more thing I did while I was away." Mack left us for a moment to retrieve his carpetbag, then knelt in front of Lillie to rummage through it. "I have a surprise for you, Lillie. There's a letter in here somewhere I want to show you."

"A letter? Who's it from?"

"It's from your blood kin. A descendant of your son, Buster."

"My Buster?"

"One and the same. I asked a friend of mine in Washington to do some research for me, and she was able to find out what happened to him after he was sold away from your plantation before the war. Buster has gone on to heaven now, I'm sorry to say. But this letter is from his grandson. He remembers Buster quite well and wrote this letter to tell you all about him."

"Oh my . . . oh my, I don't know what to say . . ." It was a good thing Lillie was sitting down because she looked as though she might faint.

Mack located the letter and pulled it from his satchel with a flourish. "It took a lot of work, but my friend not only found Buster, she found his family. It helped a lot when Alice found that piece of paper telling us that Buster had been sold to a Mr. Drucker in Thornburg, Virginia. My friend in Washington discovered his name on the U.S. Census register and learned that Buster grew up and got married and had five children. This letter is from one of his grandsons."

Lillie looked from Mack to me and back again. Tears rolled down her lined face, but I could tell from her expression that they were tears of joy. She couldn't speak. I knelt beside her chair, too, and put my arm around her tiny shoulder as Mack pulled the letter from the envelope. "You can read the whole thing later, but I especially wanted you to hear this part: " 'My grandpappy used to tell stories about how he grew up as a slave, and how his Mama Lillie taught him all about Jesus. He was trusting Jesus when the Union soldiers came through and set all the slaves free on his plantation. An army chaplain took a liking to him, so Grandpappy Buster traveled all around with those army folks until the war ended. That's when he decided he wanted to be a preacher, too, and he kept right on preaching the Gospel until the day he died. Folks would come from miles around just to hear him.' "

Lillie wiped her eyes on her ap.r.o.n. "Well, the Good Lord can take me on home now. I know I'll see my boy up in heaven. I guess it just wasn't meant to be that we found each other this side of heaven. Our lives mighta been much different if we'd had our way instead of G.o.d having His way."

We talked until suppertime, and it would have been wonderful to kill a fattened calf and celebrate this glorious reunion with a banquet. But our food supplies were spa.r.s.e, as usual, and there wasn't time to prepare a big meal.

Mack told us more stories about his travels as we ate leftover corn bread and eggs scrambled with bacon. Lillie listened to the rest of the letter, spellbound, as it told about Buster and his family. The way she gazed at Mack reminded me of my dried-up garden soaking in the rain. She barely ate, barely breathed, as if afraid this was a dream and she didn't want to wake up.

"How did you find Buster's family so quickly?" I asked at the end of the meal. I had gotten up from the table to heat water to wash the dishes.

"My friend Catherine Anson in Washington did the research before I got there. She really worked hard at it and turned out to be quite a detective." I felt an emotion I couldn't quite place as he talked about Miss Anson, and I was surprised to realize it was jealousy.

"What's been happening here while I was gone?" Mack asked after a while.

"Opal Coots pa.s.sed away," I told him. "The funeral is tomorrow. Do you think you might attend? You can let the town know you're alive now, right? And come out of hiding?"

"No, not yet. I will soon, I promise. But not tomorrow. I don't want to disturb Maggie and her family by showing up and reminding them of Hank. Is the funeral up at Maggie's cabin?"

"No, Miss Opal wanted to be buried in the churchyard. Which reminds me-where is Acorn's old church? I've never seen it, you know."

"It's across the road from the post office and back in a hollow. It isn't very far."

I couldn't help smiling. "Nothing around here is very far. I'll never forget my first glimpse of Acorn. Uncle Cecil drove straight through town and out the other side before we even knew it."

"I'll never forget the look on your face," Mack said, "when I told you Acorn didn't have a hotel or a restaurant." We both laughed, but at the same time I felt a sense of loss. I would be going home now, and I would probably never see Mack or Miss Lillie again. I had grown to love them both, and I would miss them. It was impossible not to grow fond of the man whose life I had helped save, a man who had stood alongside me facing danger and death. I turned away to hide my tears.

"Maybe I'll walk over to the church after I finish washing these dishes," I said. "It's a nice warm evening." I needed time alone to sort through my feelings. I had waited so long to go home to Blue Island, and now the time of my departure had come too soon. I realized that in the beginning I had wanted to leave Acorn because of all the hard work I'd been forced to do, the inconveniences of rural mountain life. But ties of friendship and love now exerted a much stronger pull than my own selfishness.

I finished the dishes and followed Mack's directions, walking up the road toward the post office, then turning down a dirt road I'd never explored before, across the main road. I pa.s.sed several houses wedged into the side of the hill before finally arriving at the church, nestled in a hollow. It looked as though it had once been a nice little building, but it had fallen into extreme disrepair over the years, the white paint peeling, the roof sagging, the exposed wood weathering. Most of the window gla.s.s was missing. I wondered if people had "borrowed" little pieces of the church whenever they'd needed a spare board or a new window to patch up their own homes, just as they had "borrowed" from the mining camp. But the main reason the church had deteriorated was because of the feud. "What a shame," I murmured.

The front door was boarded up, yet I didn't care to go inside, knowing that snakes and bats and other creeping things liked to inhabit deserted buildings. Instead, I walked around to the back to explore the graveyard. The cemetery wasn't very large, with graves crammed into every available s.p.a.ce. Some of the plots had been tended over the years while others were unkempt. I walked up and down the rows, pushing vines and weeds aside and idly reading the names on the tombstones.

The gravediggers had been at work, and I found the large, gaping hole where Miss Opal would be buried tomorrow. A dozen other Cootses were buried in this section of the cemetery, including one whose name I recognized: Abraham Coots. He was the man who had died in the Civil War, the close friend of Isaac Larkin and Wilbur Arnett, the two men who had stolen from the bank robbers and inadvertently started Acorn's long, bitter feud. I bent to read the epitaph on the weather-beaten stone: Abraham C. Coots October 2, 1838-November 24, 1863 "There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."

I stared at it in amazement, suddenly breathless. Could this be where the treasure was buried? The clues in the two embroidered samplers and in Isaac Larkin's letter finally made sense. Of course! Isaac and Wilbur had buried the treasure in their friend's grave!

I walked home in a daze, wondering if I should come back with a shovel and dig up Abe Coots's grave to see if I was right. But night had fallen by the time I reached the library, and I lacked the courage to skulk around the cemetery at night, much less disturb the dead with my digging.

"What's wrong, Alice?" Mack asked when I walked through the door. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

I couldn't tell him. The treasure should be unearthed by an outsider, not a Larkin or an Arnett. And Mack was a Larkin. "It's nothing," I mumbled.

Mack and Lillie sat in the non-fiction room talking, but I barely heard their conversation as my mind spun with plans. Lillie had once told me that the feuding families would lay aside their differences and get together when someone died-and Opal's funeral was tomorrow. All of Acorn's families would be there, and June Ann might attend the funeral, too, because of her friendship with Maggie. I could ask June Ann and Wayne to help me do the digging, and the entire town could witness it. I imagined it all as if watching the climax of a dramatic, epic film. The feud would end and Acorn, Kentucky, would experience healing at last.

I hardly slept that night and did my ch.o.r.es in record time the next morning before dressing for the funeral. Hank Coots's brothers brought the casket down into town on the back of their wagon, but Maggie was kind enough to stop by the library and give Miss Lillie and me a ride in her car. Mack stayed hidden, unwilling to upset Maggie or the rest of the townspeople, who still thought he was dead.

It was a lovely funeral, very similar to the one we'd held for Mack, with harmonicas and fiddles and banjos. The entire town had already gathered behind the church when I arrived, including people who lived way up in the hills, like Clint and Gladys, and the Howard family. Miss Lillie gave a short sermon, and one of Hank's brothers gave a eulogy for Opal. I hated to spoil the solemnity as Hank's brothers lowered the coffin into the grave and shoveled clods of dirt on top of it, but the time had come for my stunning announcement. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd.

"Wait, everyone. Don't go home yet. I have something to tell you." Everyone stared at me, some unkindly. "I know I'm an outsider and a flatlander and I have no right to interfere in your business. But I'll be going home in a few days. Maggie has offered to give me a ride to the train station, and I'm going to accept it. As you may know, she's leaving, too." My eyes met Maggie's, and she nodded slightly.

"Anyway," I continued, "I've been as curious as all of you folks are about the legend of Acorn's buried treasure, so I've been playing detective and following some clues. It turns out that Isaac Larkin gave Miss Lillie a letter before he died, offering a hint about where the treasure is buried, but she has kept the letter sealed all these years. Well, I opened the letter, and it helped me figure out where Isaac and his friend Wilbur Arnett buried their treasure-"

Everyone began talking at once, drowning out my words. The excitement reached such a pitch that no one seemed to remember that we were at a funeral. The crowd eyed me with curiosity and more than a little suspicion as if wondering what this crazy flatlander was up to. Faye's boys wove through the crowd and planted themselves directly in front of me, staring up at me in antic.i.p.ation the way they had when I'd read stories to them.

"You gonna tell us where?" someone finally shouted above the noise. I held up my hands, waiting until the rumble of excited voices died down before speaking again.

"Now, I'm not entirely certain the treasure is there because I didn't dig it up. I wanted all of you to be witnesses so that if it is there, you can see for yourselves that neither family stole it. And I think that Wayne and June Ann should do the digging since they represent both families."

The crowd murmured some more as Wayne and June Ann walked forward with their baby. Then it grew so quiet that I could hear the rushing waters of Wonderland Creek a few blocks away. I was suddenly petrified.

What if I was wrong about the treasure and I ended up looking like a fool? What if someone had dug it up already-or if it had never been buried there at all?

"What are we waiting for?" someone shouted. I was pretty sure it was Clint.

"I'm waiting because I want all of you to swear to me first that if we find the treasure, the feud between the Larkins and Arnetts will end. You've been arguing about this money for years, each family accusing the other of stealing it. Shame on you! Wilbur Arnett and Isaac Larkin were friends. They survived the war together and looked out for each other. They'd be horrified to see how their families have been treating one another all these years."

I looked out at their expectant faces, hoping my speech had thawed a few hearts. Instead, I saw the Larkins and Arnetts still trading hostile looks. Had Lillie been right? Would finding the treasure lead to more fighting and shooting and killing? Then I saw Miss Lillie smiling at me, encouraging me, and remembered her joy when Mack had come home.

"Families belong together," I said. "Life is too short for arguing and feuding. And now that America has fallen on hard times, you need each other more than ever. See that church behind us? Your bitterness and neglect are what destroyed it. But if you end the feud and divide the treasure among those in need, think how rich you all will be. Maybe you can use some of the money to rebuild the church, too. The Bible says we're supposed to help each other, and that if one of us has a need, everybody should pitch in."

I surveyed the crowd again, then walked over to June Ann and Wayne. I lifted Feather from June Ann's arms and held her up. "Look at this beautiful baby. She's worth more than any treasure. And she belongs to all of you-Larkins and Arnetts alike. You have so much wealth here in Acorn-the mountains and creeks, your families and your children. Don't squander another day on this ridiculous feud."

I saw Cora and a few other women wiping their eyes. "Are we in agreement?" I asked. "Should we dig up the treasure and use it for everyone's good?" The two clans took a moment to talk amongst themselves, then one man stepped forward from each family and met in the middle to shake hands. A cheer went up from the crowd.

"Let's start digging!" someone shouted.

I turned and led the way, still carrying Feather in my arms, and stopped to point to Abraham Coots's grave. I prayed I hadn't made a mistake. "I think it's right here," I said, sounding more confident than I felt. "I think Isaac and Wilbur buried the money in their friend's grave."

I stood back to watch as Wayne and a few other men grabbed the gravediggers' shovels and began to dig. As they did, I looked around at the faces of all the people here in Acorn whom I had grown to know and love. For the first time I realized how much I had missed in life by reading books day and night about imaginary people. From now on, I wanted to live with real people and become part of their real stories. And as I saw Miss Lillie gazing at me, smiling her gap-toothed grin, I wanted more than anything else to have a faith that was as real and vibrant as hers.

I was still lost in my thoughts when I heard the dull thunk of a shovel striking wood. The men had only dug down a few feet, not six, so I knew it couldn't be a casket. My heart raced with excitement as the men brushed off the dirt with their hands, unearthing a small wooden box. Wayne Larkin pried off the lid, and cheers erupted from the crowd as he held up two fistfuls of strange-looking money. I felt shaky with relief and had to sit down on a nearby tombstone to avoid dropping the baby.

"What kind of money is that?" Clint asked, pushing his way forward to see. "Them don't look like real dollars."

The crowd parted to let one of the older men from the post office examine them. "They're greenbacks," he said. "The government printed these during the War Between the States and for a few years afterward."

"Are they any good?" Clint asked.

The old man shrugged. "Guess we'll have to take them to a bank and find out."

But the odd-looking greenbacks didn't dim the joyful mood as the townspeople continued to laugh and cheer. I searched for June Ann and saw a woman rush toward her and pull her into her arms. I guessed by the woman's red hair that she was June Ann's mother.

The long, bitter feud was finally over. And although I knew that fairy-tale endings only happened in books, I wasn't at all surprised that my story-like visit to Wonderland Creek would end with "happily-ever-after."

It seemed very strange to be home in Illinois again. I wandered around Blue Island in a daze, as if I had been shipwrecked like Robinson Crusoe and finally had returned to civilization. Simple things that I'd once taken for granted amazed me. The array of fruit and vegetables on display in the market brought tears to my eyes. The contented swish-swish of the agitator on laundry day sounded like music. Electric lights seemed nothing short of miraculous. It took me weeks to get used to reaching for a light switch when I walked into a darkened room instead of searching for a box of matches. And when I sat on the edge of our porcelain bathtub and turned the k.n.o.b, I laughed out loud as I watched the hot water pouring in, and the steam rising, and the bubbles frothing. But I didn't enjoy soaking in our tub half as much as I had enjoyed my first long-awaited bath in Lillie's copper tub in Kentucky.

The world back home seemed loud and angry and aggressive. I couldn't get used to the constant blare of the radio. Halfway through a film at the movie theater, I got up and walked out, finding the show too noisy and fast-moving after the slow pace of life in Acorn. To be honest, the plot of the film seemed too contrived and coincidental to be believable. But then again, if they made a movie about my adventures in Acorn, it might seem unbelievable, too, with murders and feuds, stolen loot and buried treasure, and a happily-ever-after ending. And who would believe there could be a one-hundred-year-old former slave who could cook up a love potion?

I missed the trees and the hills. It was too flat in Illinois, and the trees looked scrawny and lonely. I couldn't get used to the rush of traffic in the streets or the rumbling freight trains blasting their whistles. Everything moved too fast. I wanted to tell everyone to slow down and take time to enjoy life and each other.