There didn't seem to be anyone here that Hadley didn't recognize. Just the elders and the Elanor twin.
Hadley was sure Button was related to one or two of the Ancients. This area of the country had remained isolated longer than other parts. And the rumors of inbreeding were certainly true.
Hadley knew from her own family history. There were instances of double-first cousins and who knew what else.
Was there no family cemetery on his land?
Unlikely, Hadley pondered.
But the younger generations might not know exactly where it was located. Some of the oldest family burial grounds were merely marked by "spar grass," or asparagus. Some by small field stones. Perhaps, she thought, memorizing the faces present, this was the easiest way to handle the whole situation.
The way Button died was a mystery. Bill said that it would be weeks before the toxicology reports came back from Bowey Hill.
The old ways were dying. Modern burial customs had taken over here just as they had everywhere else. The funeral home did, for a fee, what the family members used to handle for free.
Convenient. Quick. No muss. No fuss for the rest of us.
But still, Hadley had never attended a burying quite like this.
Had something in the way Button died cursed him?
***
Not that she believed in the old ways all that much. But having been born here, they were as much a part of your childhood as crackling cornbread and buttermilk biscuits. Even if she didn't put much stock in the traditional beliefs of the Ancients, many around here still did.
Superhuman feats had been accomplished because of adrenaline and the belief that one could accomplish a task. Just look at Lou Edna. She had been terrified when she visited Hadley that morning in her kitchen.
The "toby" she'd found on her door went to the dump, too. Good thing Lou Edna had all those rubber gloves at her home.
She was forever bringing a pair home in her pink uniform pocket. She'd pull the pair out of her uniform at night in her laundry room and toss the gloves into a cardboard box she kept by the washing machine.
She'd handled that conjure bag with gloves, and the brick, too.
Hadley looked at Beanie again. He seemed to have calmed a little. Perhaps both the signals of peace and calm she was sending him were working somehow. She wondered how Beanie would see to fill the grave after the service.
It could be a hard task to bury a body.
The rocky soil was often frozen in the winter. It was impossible to simply take a shovel and dig a hole in the ground. Hadley remembered hearing stories when she was younger about men taking TNT and blowing holes in the frozen dirt to help the men get started on a grave.
Of course, there was always the danger that too much explosive was used, blowing not only a fair-sized hole in the ground but also disturbing the bodies in the graves near where they were working.
Dynamite was no longer used, and modern gravediggers could rely on equipment. Beanie was able to operate the small backhoe used at Memorial Gardens to dig the holes for the coffin. Harvey had made sure that his employee was well-trained. And for some reason, Beanie had taken to the machine like it was a third arm.
But Hadley knew that her friend always liked to fill the graves by hand. To Beanie, this was a final act of respect that he performed for the deceased. Nothing like a shovel, Beanie would say. And Harvey didn't mind. It wasn't like there was a backlog of bodies awaiting burial.
The system seemed to work for both Harvey, who had owned and operated Memorial Gardens for over 40 years, and Beanie. Beanie did all the summertime mowing that the cemetery needed. Harvey handled the bookwork end and was the mortician, too.
***
One of the old one's coughed. It brought Hadley back. Why was her mind drifting so? Must be the magic of the hour. More like the lateness of it. Hadley was usually in bed and snoring by ten.
Dilcie Pickle stepped forward.
"We come hyar to pay our respects to you 'n' yer mem'ry, Button Angus Dudley," Dilcie said. "You lived a long, long life on these mountains. Like the leaves, we spring out, green up, and now it's your turn to drop back to the ground.
Like ever'thin' else in this old world, we pine fer yer awhile, then we'll fergit. 'N' soon, we'll take our places 'long side ya somewhere on this ridge where we too may be mourned fer a season, then forgotten."
"Ash ta' ash 'n dust ta' dust. Rest in peace, Button Dudley. Rest in peace," Granny Dilcie said.
Each member of the Ancients sprinkled a small handful of dirt atop Button Dudley' coffin, a pine box tapered to fit his body.
Hadley heard the hollow sounds as the clods hit the top of the pine box.
Is he in there?
Silly thoughts. Of course, he was. She'd seen him when he dropped dead at her feet at the festival.
***
Hadley soon had her answer as to how Beanie was going to see to fill Button's grave. The Ancients took a few steps back from around the site, enlarging their circle.
Granny Dilcie nodded her head in Beanie's direction. Solemnly, Beanie took his place beside the pile of dirt and began to fill the hole. He worked quickly, one shovel full at a time.
When it was over, Granny Dilcie pulled a small bottle from her coat. Dilcie's chant echoed over the lonesome cemetery.
Hadley was sure the Ancients understood every word that Dilcie said. It was a foreign tongue, an aged language that only the wise ones could decipher. Granny poured the bottle's contents over the fresh dirt. The service was over.
As if they'd been instructed aloud, the Ancients, along with the Elanor twin, turned silently in unison and walked toward an old pickup. It was a very old truck and looked like it had rolled right out the Great Depression.
The tailgate was dropped and a crate was placed on the ground for Granny Dilcie to step up on. She was assisted to her place in the back of the truck. She whispered something to the Elanor twin, who immediately descended from the bed of the truck and walked over to Hadley.
"Granny says to give you this," the girl said.
Hadley took the small cloth bag.
"Give Granny Dilcie my thanks, please," Hadley said.
"I will," said the girl.
She was beautiful, even in the dim light thrown by the torches. She ran quickly back to the truck, running with the light-footed gracefulness of a doe in the forest. The starter ground several times, and the engine backfired. Finally, it caught, and the truck and the Ancients disappeared into the night.
"What did she give you, Hadley?" Lou Edna asked.
"Get in the car," Hadley said.
Hadley inspected the small red cloth bag under the courtesy light inside her car.
"It's a good luck mojo," Lou Edna said.
Hadley had emptied the bag into her hand and three things fell out. The first was a hag stone. This was a stone with a natural hole in it. A small leather string was strung inside the hole of the stone.
"That's a hag stone, Hadley," Lou Edna said. "You wear it. They say it lets you see spirits from the Other World. It will bring you good luck."
"How do you know this stuff, Lou?" Hadley asked.
"You'd be surprised what them old ladies talk about in the shop. Plus, a lot of it comes nat'ral. Like breathin' the air. I grew up around that back in the hills when I was a little girl."
"A sweet gum ball," Hadley said, fingering the pointed brown ball in her fingers. "Maury and I used to pick these up off the ground as kids and use them to decorate our pretend Christmas trees."
"Sweetgum balls are also called Witches' Burrs, Hadley," Lou Edna said. "They are good things. They ward off evil."
"And last but not least," Hadley said, "star anise."
"Star anise will bring you good luck," said Lou Edna. "You can burn them, you know, like incense, to boost your psychic powers. Wear them around your neck, if you want to. Works the same."
"Hey, Bean," Hadley yelled from her car window. "You want me to shine my headlights over there so you can see to finish up."
"That's all right, Hadley," Beanie said. "Harvey gave me a battery-operated lantern."
"I'm heading home," Lou Edna said. "I got a busy day. Booked solid at the shop."
"You go ahead," said Hadley. "I think I'll hang around until Beanie finishes and then give him a lift home. I know how he is about spooks and ghosts, and he hates being out after dark. Besides, I'd just sleep better knowing he's home safe."
"I'll call you," said Lou Edna.
***
Lou Edna got out of Hadley's car and shut the door. She walked down the little stretch to where she had parked her car. She cranked it and turned on her high beams.
Lou Edna drove away.
Hadley yelled to Beanie that she'd wait for him to finish and drop him off at his house. She could hear the relief in his voice as he thanked her. No sense trying to be a gentleman at this late hour. She smiled. Not one word of protest trying to get her to go on home.
The hour was late. It was scary out here in this old cemetery. And besides, Hadley thought, Beanie would be exhausted. A ride home beat a walk in the dark anytime.
But especially when you were bone tired.