The Forgiving River

How She Came to be Dead

On that night, he and Jack had gone to a friend of Jack's. Adam didn't even know the names of the men at the poker game that night. They were drunk when the pair arrived and as he pulled a chair across the wooden floor, he had pushed a tiny stab of apprehension aside. Although Adam hadn't had anything to drink that night, Jack had immediately accepted a drink. The poker game really never took off. It turned out to be a night of loud drinking, laughter, and cursing. Made uncomfortable by the abusive boasts and violent threats, Adam prepared to leave. But before he could, a fight broke out between two of the men. In a flash, surprising considering the size of their bellies, both men were on their feet, sending their chairs clattering to the floor. Although everyone else in the room was hushed, the two men began to yell threats at each other.

Before he could react, Adam caught a glimpse of something white and soft out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a woman standing in the doorway of what he assumed to be the bedroom. She was dressed in a white, flowing gown, made of a gauzy, dingy fabric, worn thin by age and frequent washings.

His recollection of the night was cut short by the cabin coming into view. It was a little more than a shed, and had, at one time, been white. However, what was left of the paint was barely visible, most of it having peeled away years ago. The yard had only a few sporadic patches of knee high grass.

Adam made his way across the dusty yard, onto the porch, and rapped on the unlatched door, which swung open wide. He stepped inside, realizing immediately that the cabin had been abandoned. The chairs were still overturned, the room still in disarray.

He walked over to the fireplace, knelt down, and placed his hand on the fireplace hearth. The stones were loose, as he knew they would be. He pulled one of them out and turned it over. He closed his eyes when he saw the sandstone rock stained a dark blood brown. His mind flashed back and she was there, sprawled out on the hearth, her auburn hair spilling  to one side of her head, her blood pooling out on the other, the two together forming a gruesome halo.

Adam choked back a sob and ran from the cabin. Once outside, he slid down the wall and sat on the porch. The sweat poured off his forehead and he realized that the men were gone and they had left him to take care of this. It really wasn't his problem. Unless it was taken into consideration that he was there, did nothing to protect her, helped dispose of her body on his land, and had not reported it to the authorities. Oh, and the fact that he had a murdered woman's hand on the seat of his pickup. He started to laugh out loud in hysteria, at the hysteria of it all, but only a sob came out.

He stumbled down the path to his pickup and crawled into the cab. He banged his head on the steering wheel. He was in deep and the water was rising.