Chapter 26
Thursday passed in the same manner most days passed that summer.
Dogs, hats, house prep. Once I finished the daily tasks, I took some time to work on Fern’s journal before I had to leave for my meeting.
So far, the journal included lists of things I wanted to teach or do with Fern.
I also added a section for lists about our family, including a page for Arlo, Olla, Mom, Dad, and even Cy.
Closing the pen, I reread the list I just added.
Fun Facts about your daddy, Arlo:
He always wore mismatched socks.
He would only eat green candies.
He didn’t eat any type of cheese.
He sometimes took on the voice of whoever he was talking to.
Instead of writing me letters, he would draw a rebus puzzle, a type of riddle. (I was terrible at solving them.)
I left extra space, as I’d done with each list so far, figuring I could add to them as memories or ideas came to me. I wanted to add more but needed to leave soon for my meeting.
I slid the journal into my bag, thinking I should keep it handy in case something inspired me. I fished for my keys as I stepped onto the porch. Movement caught me by surprise. “Ah!” I screamed and whacked the trespasser with my bag.
“Whoa!” Henry cowered in the chair and held a notepad up to protect his head.
I dropped the bag and clutched my chest. “You scared the tar out of me!”
Henry peeped at me from behind his notepad. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You can’t just hang out on a neighbor’s porch without letting them know.” I bent down and picked up my bag, checking to make sure I hadn’t cracked my phone screen. Luckily, it was fine.
“That wasn’t my initial plan.” He gestured to the backpack at his feet. “I wanted to go sit on the beach and write for a while.”
I scanned the porch. “Did you get lost on the way?”
“No, smarty. I came over here to invite you, but then an idea for a scene came to me and I wanted to write it down before I forgot it.”
“Oh. Makes sense.” I plucked the keys from an empty planter where they’d landed when I accidently launched them in the air. “You’re welcome to stay, but I’m heading out.”
“Is the Magnolia meeting early today?” Henry asked, surprising me that he actually remembered it was Thursday and that I had a meeting. Maybe he paid more attention than he let on.
“No. It’s the regular time.”
“Really?” He pulled out his phone and checked the time. “How’d that happen?”
“How’d what happen?”
“It’s after seven.”
I adjusted the bag on my shoulder. “What time did you walk over here?”
Henry scratched his cheek. “I think around two.”
“Oh wow. That’s . . . a while.”
He slowly stood and stretched and I heard his back pop. “No wonder I’m starving.” He shoved his notepad and pen inside the backpack and zipped it up. “Do you wanna grab a burger with me from Poe’s?”
“I can’t, but maybe another time.”
“Okay.” Henry bent down and picked up my journal. “This yours?”
“Shoot. I didn’t realize it fell out. Thanks.” I studied the plain cover, thinking it needed some sprucing up. “This is my list journal. The one you encouraged me to make.”
“Oh yeah. How’s it going so far?”
“Great. I’ve added at least twenty list topics. Must read or listen or watch lists. I’ve added fun fact lists about my family members too.”
“Fun facts?”
“Yes. Like for Olla, I listed that she used to sew dress-up costumes for me and Cy. I’m going to add some of her best recipes too.”
“You have to add the tomato salad recipe.”
“Oh, I’m definitely adding that one. I have room to add more lists. Since you gave me the idea, would you mind skimming through it and maybe giving me some more ideas for topics?” I held it out toward him.
“Sure.” Henry started flipping pages, as if we had all the time in the world. Had he already forgotten I needed to leave? “Where’s the list about yourself?”
“Huh?”
Henry lifted the journal. “Your fun fact list. Fern needs to know unique things about you too.”
“It would be one short list.” I checked the time. “I really need to go, but I’d appreciate some input anyway. Just leave it on the porch when you’re done reading. Bye, Henry.” I skipped down the steps.
“Later, Junie.”
I headed to Downtown Charleston with very little time to spare, which is always a bad idea for the congested area of town.
Not surprisingly, I arrived at Patsy’s a little late.
It didn’t seem too big of a deal, but as I entered the garden and noticed everyone standing before small holes around the pineapple fountain’s flower bed, I reconsidered.
All eyes collided with me. “Uh, hi. Sorry I’m late. Traffic.” I shrugged.
“It’s okay, darlin’.” Patsy waved me over to where she stood with a tall brunette. “Junie, this is Kierra. She’s an addictions counselor and she usually joins us once a month. Except last month she took off to go get married.”
“Congratulations.”
Kierra smiled as her thumb touched the diamond ring on her finger. “Thank you. And you must be the newest member of the Magnolia Nephalist Society.”
“Yes. For some reason they let me in.”
“Of course we did. You’re fabulous.” Patsy waved her hand toward a vacant spot, her long orange nails arrowing in the direction. “Now, Junie, just find an empty hole.”
I sidled up next to Chris Evans and inhaled the earthy smell of fresh-turned soil.
“Go ahead, Kierra. Tell us what we’re doin’ today.” Patsy gestured to the counselor.
Kierra pointed a small shovel toward the hole in front of her. “We are each standing before a grave. Please focus on yours.”
I looked down at the small hole—no bigger than maybe a foot deep and just as wide—and figured we were burying fairies. Or small animals, which I was not down for.
As if Jackée read my thoughts, she clucked her tongue. “I ain’t buryin’ no animal.”
Kierra smiled. “No animals, I promise. These are graves for broken dreams.”
A choking sound tore through the garden. All heads turned toward the usually reserved Axil as he crumbled to the ground.
“Is he having a heart attack?” Mei yelled as we all rushed over to him.
“Axil, honey, you okay?” Patsy placed her hand on his back but he shook her off.
“I killed my best friend!”
My eyes snapped up and met equally wide-eyed stares. Looking back to Axil, I’d never witnessed a more broken man than him in all my life. Broad shoulders slumped and shaking, flushed face streaked in tears.
“I killed Mitch!” Axil sobbed louder. He lowered his head and gripped it between his giant hands. “I didn’t mean to!”
Patsy knelt beside him and we all followed suit, forming a circle around him. I wasn’t sure if we were dealing with a murderer or what, but I went along with everyone else.
Kierra appeared with a wet washcloth and placed it on the back of Axil’s neck. “Axil, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize this would be a trigger for you.”
Axil cried for a long time and when he calmed enough to talk, he began telling a story so tragic I’d never be able to forget it.
“Me and Mitch . . . we went on a hunting trip with a group of buddies.” His chest heaved in that stuttering way when someone has cried so much their body can’t take any more.
“I hate guns and only agreed to go when they said we’d crossbow.
No guns. We’d be safe.” Sniffing, he wiped his nose.
“I guess after a few too many beers nothing’s safe. ”
We waited for him to continue, knowing something awful was about to come next. When he cleared his throat for the second time, Jackée hopped up and grabbed him a water.
After a few swallows, Axil stared at the water bottle as he spoke.
“None of us had shot a thing all day and it started getting dark but no one wanted to give up just yet. We had a bet that whoever made the first kill, the others had to buy him dinner. It was trivial, but we were a competitive bunch and I wanted to win so bad . . . When something came from behind a tree I fired the bow without thinking.” He began crying again. “I killed my best friend instantly.”
“Oh, Axil,” Patsy whispered, but he seemed too lost in his pain to hear her.
He laughed bitterly. “I’ve never been drunk once in my entire life, including that night. The legal blood alcohol limit is .08 percent. Mine was only .04 percent.”
“That means he’s not even an alcoholic,” Pearl whispered, making a face, but everyone dismissed her and kept our focus on Axil.
“It was an accident, Axil,” Kierra said calmly. “Tragic, yes, but still an accident.”
I’d read somewhere once that nearly one thousand people are shot yearly during hunting accidents in the United States. I recalled it, but didn’t tell the others. I seriously doubted it would make Axil feel any less guilty.
“There weren’t any charges but I wish there had been.
I needed to pay something for what I did.
” Axil shook his head, still staring at the water bottle in his hand.
“Mitch’s wife and parents asked me to be a pallbearer.
Can you imagine? Tonight reminded me of the funeral.
Me helping our other friends carry his casket.
It was this mahogany wood and the flowers on top were so strong the smell made me sick to my stomach.
I watched them lower him in the ground and stayed until they’d smoothed the dirt over him.
I wanted to trade places with him so bad.
That night I snuck over to my old man’s house and stole one of his handguns, but the stupid thing jammed. ”
Mei gasped, then reached for his hand, hers so tiny compared to his. “That was stupid of you!”
“I know. My wife found me on my knees in my shed, trying to get the gun to work. We’ve not been right since . . . That’s why we moved here. For a fresh start, but I’ve learned ghosts can follow you anywhere.”