Evergreen Everleigh - The Wattys 2020

Chapter Twenty-Seven - Graveyard Truths

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Graveyard Truths

By the time we reach our destination, it becomes apparent that everyone else knew where we were going all along. Perhaps some of them had guessed that if I had known the picnic site that Lady Lavender had chosen, I would have bailed before I set even one foot on the graveled earth of the graveyard.

We had taken an alternative path out of the forest, right instead of left and seemingly, it had made all the difference. Now when we cleared the treeline, the ground veered up, slowly to reveal the sprawling graveyard and impressive hilltop that disappeared into more trees. I had been watching my feet as I walked slowly behind Aloe, careful of fallen tree branches littering the forest floor. But now, as I look up to see the white marble headstones that have cracked and sunk with age, and worse still, the sinking earth over each grave to expose where the body lay, my stomach flips and I freeze. I am an animal, cornered before slaughter, blindly led towards the blade. My knees lock together and my mouth dries.

The children spread out around the graves, moving higher still, laughing and pushing one another so that they almost topple onto the burial sites. I listen hard as Willow tells Juniper of a small clearing in the graveyard that captures the afternoon sun like no other spot on the expansive house grounds. 

On the grounds, then these graves belonged to...

I raise a hand over my eyes and see everyone stopping up atop the hill and plopping on to the ground, basking in the sun. Perennial and Willow lie side by side staring up at the clouds, pointing out shapes. The clearing was no more than the hilltop, then. I decide that it is certainly something I can live without.

"I'm going back," I say, though no one can hear me. Everyone else is ahead. The little ones are even playing, in this place. I couldn't give my eyes the opportunity to begin seeing the truth of what might be waiting there for me.

I begin to turn away, but before I can safely escape, I see Lady Lavender a little way away, settling Violet into Sweet Pea's arms. I can feel her gaze upon me when I am still focusing on my feet. I close my eyes and squeeze away the tears beginning to form at what she was asking me to do by being here. Her hand is on my shoulder before I have opened my eyes.

"I'm sorry that being here upsets you, Ever," And I think that she really means it. Yet, I can't abide it, however well she means.

"You knew it would," I condemn and for the first time in more than a month, my words have their old bite in them that I used to injure my mother. "And you brought me here anyway."

Lady Lavender straightens slightly, her eyes softening yet still somehow steely enough to make me regret my words. I flinch at a movement around my legs and look down to see Mr. Flurry rubbing his immense fur against my legs. In a movement that proves my temporary lapse in sanity like no other, I bend down and pick him up. He doesn't scratch me like he does Cedar or even Yarrow but instead purrs softly. I tuck my head into his fur to disguise the tears that I cannot seem to hold back these days. When Henry was little and I was only fourteen or so, he used to lick my tears away. My disgust always helped me to forget whatever sadness followed me that day.

This time Lady Lavender touches my hand. This touch seems warmer and terrifyingly understanding that my tears fall even faster until I am shaking. My ribs ache from trying to hold back my wracking sobs. She only holds my hand and squeezes.

"I brought you here to show you something, Ever. To show you your own strength and talent reflected so strongly that you could no longer deny it," She whispers and then pausing before adding, "So that you will no longer starve away what you view as failings, but we all see as gifts."

This breaks whatever remaining parts of my heart that I feel a palpable ache form in the every-present hole in my chest.

I look up and see Lady Lavender's windswept blonde curls and lightly freckled face, filled with hope. Even her lips are freckled now. When I meet her eyes, I am already nodding, already agreeing to whatever she will show me.

Gently, perhaps more gently than the ever-grouchy Mr. Flurry deserves, I place the cat on the ground and follow Lady Lavender blindly into the open.

With every step, I am transported back to my No-No's funeral. I stood by a tree that day, far enough away that I could not truly see them bury her body deep beneath the earth. The nausea hits me in waves as Lady Lavender guides me to the right edge of the graveyard. I focus on the headstones and the types of stone they might be made with, rather than look beyond the vail of the ordinary. 

Granite, marble, limestone, sandstone. 

Note and repeat until I am almost bent double with such a substantial fear in my chest. The grass is longer in this section of the graveyard and much of the headstones are made of fieldstones – a mixed collection of colours. Yet there are relatively new graves too. With names that mean nothing to me.

When we stop, cypress trees shield us from view in a line that looks to have been planted with military precision. Only the two of us see the grave ahead of us. Wiping my eyes on the back of my hand, I read the name.

Albert Ainsley.

The date on the headstone goes back only seven years. The boy was ten-years-old.

I read the headstone and look up at Lady Lavender, an eyebrow cocked. But as I open my mouth to speak, I see a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Slowly, I turn and I may as well be back at the lakefront that day last week when Yarrow came to wipe my tears away.

The boy with the red hair looks at me with a soft smile as he leans lazily against his headstone.

"Albert Ainsley," I say, swallowing hard.

The boy nods.

"What do you want?" I ask though we both know that I have asked this once before. The answer was clear then. In some distant corner of my brain, I register Lady Lavender taking hold of my hand. Softly this time, no squeezing.

"You know that," The boy – Albert – says. He seems terribly sad.

I nod, turning back to Lady Lavender.

"You are not damaged, because of this ability. You are not unlovable." Her voice is gentle enough to caress my cheek. Such feeling swells from my midriff and rises, gathering with it all the damaged parts of who I am and a crawling sensation begins under my skin. I turn to leave and as I do, I see a cluster of flowers growing by Albert's grave.

White, yellow and red. Yarrow plants.

I am halfway through the forest trail back to the path before I fall to my knees and retch into the leaves, the full knowledge that I cannot avoid this. Because this is precisely who I am.