Chapter Thirty-One
Present day
After Helen’s morning bath, she rummaged through a small plastic bin under the sink that contained toiletries and medications.
It didn’t take her long to find the prescription bottle she wanted.
A little later, when she stepped outside in a fresh dress, clean hair swirling past her shoulders, the pill bottle was tucked
in her dress pocket. It was a crisp but warm morning, and the sun felt good.
Isaac was near the garden using a shovel to dig a hole.
As she approached him, she saw the dead raven lying on the ground near the small grave she’d dug. The bird was partially decomposed
now, and the grave had been disturbed. She’d given the bird a premature burial of sorts.
“I guess I dug that too shallow,” she said. “Did an animal get into it?”
“Looks like it,” he said.
Helen peered into the new grave Isaac was digging. It was much larger, much deeper. Maybe three feet long, two feet wide,
three feet deep.
“That seems excessively large for a bird,” she said.
Isaac looked down into the grave and laughed lightly, and Helen couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah, it is,” he said. “I needed to work off some steam, so I kept digging. I’ll fill it back in when I’m done.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Just a little worried about Wade.”
“Where is he?”
Isaac gestured toward the forest. “He went out that way. I tried to talk to him this morning. He won’t even acknowledge me.”
“Sometimes he does that.”
“Maybe I should just leave.”
“No,” Helen said, too quickly, too firmly. Her fast response felt transparent, so she amended her tone with a lighter one.
“I mean, it’d be nice if you could stay a little while longer. I’ll try to talk to him.”
Isaac nodded faintly, and then his gaze moved from her face to her hair and back to her eyes, so swiftly it was barely discernible.
Helen found Wade sitting on a log near a small pond in a clearing of trees. Not far from this spot, she had found the beaver
dam, the one she’d wanted to show Agnes.
“Hey,” Helen said as she sat down beside Wade.
“Hey.”
From her dress pocket, she pulled out the prescription pill bottle.
After a moment, he blinked in recognition. “Is that your antipsychotic?”
She was impressed Wade remembered what type of drugs she’d been taking when he’d met her. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t know you brought that here.”
“I had some left in my last bottle.” She shrugged. It’s what you do. Keep old meds.
“Good idea,” he said.
Helen inhaled, hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Wade looked out at the pond. “If it helps.”
This was going much better than she had anticipated.
“It could,” she said.
“Good. I need you to understand what I’m trying to tell you. Will it work right away?”
It took Helen a moment to comprehend Wade’s assumption. When it finally hit her, she said, “No, Wade. I thought you might want to try the medication.”
“Me?”
“You think your brother is a ghost.”
Wade stood, disgusted. “I can’t even talk to you about this.”
“That’s nothing new. You’ve never been able to talk to me about anything.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“My husband was murdered in front of me.”
Wade looked at her like she was crazy. “I know that!”
“I used to think I was seeing him in the streets after he was gone.”
“Why are you telling me things I know?”
“Because that’s about all you know. The basic facts. But you never ask me how I’m doing. Does it not concern you that I haven’t
been able to sleep the entire time you’ve known me?”
“That’s why I told you about lavender tea. What are we even talking about? This is not important. A goddamn ghost has slept
in our guest room for the last two nights. That’s what’s important!”
Helen looked at Wade with true vitriol.
He left, and she stayed there awhile longer. Alone in the forest of sighs.
Tyler, Tyler, Tyler.
When she returned to the farmhouse at last, Isaac was nowhere to be seen. She crossed the yard toward the grave he’d dug.
The raven was no longer on the grass.
At the edge of the grave, she looked down inside it, expecting to see the bird, but the grave was empty.
The hole was even larger now. While Helen was in the woods, Isaac had continued digging. Now the grave was big enough to hold a person.
Slam! The meat mallet crashed onto a pill on the cutting board.
Helen smashed the last of the antipsychotic pills into a powder, then swept it all into a small glass jar. She was hiding
the jar in the back of her spice cabinet when Isaac came into the room.
“Isaac,” she said. “We need to talk alone, if that’s okay.”
“Sure,” he said.
But right then Helen saw Wade through the window, walking toward the house.
“Later tonight,” she quickly added.
Isaac nodded and picked up a rag to clean his boots.
Wade entered the house without wiping his boots down. He went straight to the sink and filled up a glass of water.
“Wade, I thought you might want my help in the trees tomorrow,” Isaac said.
Wade turned back slowly to face Isaac but said nothing. Then he drank the glass of water, never taking his eyes from his brother.
“That sounds nice,” Helen finally chimed in.
Wade glared at her, then addressed Isaac in a flat voice. “What kind of game are you playing?”
Isaac tossed the rag aside. “No game. I’m more than happy to help you.”
Helen looked at Isaac sharply. Was there something hostile lurking in his tone? No, Isaac was gazing at Wade pleasantly enough.
She’d just imagined it.
“Maybe you two could work on some of the trees within walking distance, and then I could go into town tomorrow for supplies,”
Helen said. She envisioned herself driving the truck with the windows down and the heat cranked against the autumn wind. “With
the three of us here, we’re getting short on some things.”
“I need the truck tomorrow.” Wade set the glass in the sink, then walked toward the front door. “Helen, a word?”
She rolled her eyes. God, she was getting tired of the way he barked orders at her. It was one thing when they were alone,
but when he did it in front of Isaac, it really showed just how rude he could be.
Nevertheless, she followed him onto the front porch.
Wade huddled close to her and spoke in a murmur. “I’ve been thinking long and hard,” he said gravely. “Isaac was always mad
about something when he was alive. He had a short fuse, and now his soul won’t rest. I think he blames me for his death.”
Helen sighed. She didn’t know if the antipsychotic pills would have any immediate effect after she drugged Wade tonight, but
she assumed it would take some time. Until then, she was going to have to get used to having versions of this conversation.
Wade continued, “There’s no way I can force him to leave. The only chance I have is to get through to him. Convince him to
leave on his own.”
Finally, something halfway reasonable. At least his new plan didn’t involve shooting his brother. They were headed in the
right direction.
“Okay, that makes sense,” Helen said, and she tried to smile encouragingly. “Even if you guys had problems in the past, I’m
sure it wasn’t all bad. When you talk to him, try to find common ground. Maybe bring up some of the good times you used to
have.”
Wade didn’t return the smile. “We never had good times.”
That evening at dinner, Wade lifted a spoonful of drugged mashed potatoes to his lips. Helen and Isaac were eating mashed
potatoes too, but theirs contained no antipsychotic powder.
She watched Wade shovel the last bite of potatoes into his mouth and wash it down with a swallow of cold water. He thought
he still ruled the kingdom. He didn’t know she had already poured the iron mask.