Read The Witch's Grave for Free Online Page A

scare me.” Arms folded. “Thinks it’s funny.”

    â€œWhy would he try to scare you?”
    â€œI got a burial plot up there, belongs to my granddaddy’s family. Hek says he can hear me calling him from time to time when he passes by the graveyard.” She gnawed on her upper lip a second. “Says he’s worried about me. But he wants me to get buried over in the little garden by his church, is all. With him. For some reason he don’t like our public cemetery.”
    She wore no wedding ring. Her belief was that it showed ownership and she was not her husband’s possession. But she rubbed the ring on her little finger, one Hek had given her the first Christmas of their marriage, a ruby rose in peach gold.
    â€œâ€˜The golden bowl is broken,’” she sighed, “the dust returns to the earth as it was, the spirit returns to God Who gave it.’”
    â€œRevelation.”
    She shook her head. “Ecclesiastes Twelve Six and Seven. Everything ends.”
    Her face betrayed a true fear. Dying wouldn’t be bad; missing her husband, unendurable.
    The silence that followed her quote was snapped in half, a sudden snarl of the doorknob and Hezekiah’s step. He was panting.
    â€œLord, it’s a chill out there.” Slam. “Hey there, Fever.”
    â€œHek.” I smiled at him, but he made no eye contact.
    He went immediately to the percolator, took a mug from the cabinet above it, and poured. He was in a black suit, white shirt buttoned at the collar, no tie. His hair was a tangle of wires; he’d been running.
    He gulped the coffee, both hands around the mug, then stared down at the table.
    â€œYou recording?”
    â€œWe can stop.” I reached across and shut off the tape player.
    â€œSorry. Keep a’going if you want.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you?” June said, looking him up and down. “It ain’t near enough cold out for you to carry on. Where’s your glasses?” To me: “Left in church again.”
    He looked at me, shook his head. “You know what’s wrong,” he said to June quietly.

    She rose up out of the chair. “That’s enough of that.”
    â€œJunie.”
    â€œI told Fever about your little story.” She went to the oven; it creaked open. “He agrees with me: you’re out y’mind.”
    â€œWe never really discussed my opinion,” I said to Hek.
    He took a seat a the table, I cleared the Wollenzak and microphone out of the way. June set a warm plate in front of Hek, holding on to it with a blue dish towel. He sat and watched the plate until she brought him a fork and a paper napkin from the drawer beside the sink. His fingers were shaking very slightly, his face flushed, his pupils dilated.
    â€œAin’t nothing wrong with me,” he mumbled.
    â€œThere’s everything wrong with you,” she said, taking her seat, chin in hand, watching him eat. “Has been since the day we met.”
    â€œIf that’s true,” he said looking up at me, “then what’d she marry me for? Ask her that.” The whisper of a smile touched his face.
    â€œShoot fire.” She swatted his shoulder, hard, and blushed, covered her mouth with her hand.
    â€œWhat did you see in the cemetery, Hek?” I itched to turn the recorder back on.
    â€œI saw what I saw.” He lifted a forkful of mashed potatoes to his mouth; it hovered. “Ain’t the first time, neither.” In went the fork.
    â€œShe told me,” I said, “you saw or heard something last night.”
    â€œI don’t mean that,” he shot back, irritated. “Happen every so often, you see things up there.”
    â€œBut this is different.”
    He stopped eating, eyes blank. “It surely is.” He blinked, turned my way. “She called my name. And more.”
    â€œWho did?”
    â€œWoman, from across the way. Over the graves