Laughter in the Wind (7 page)

“If Ola Wright isn’t able to help you, I don’t think anyone could. When she was a younger woman, she knew everything about everyone in these parts,” she added with a smile. “But, if I think of something that will help you girls, I’ll give you a call.”

“Thanks, Grandma,” Rebecca said as she hugged her good-bye.

“Yes. Thank you, Grandma,” Olivia echoed, giving her a tight hug. “It was very nice to meet you. I hope I get to see you again, soon.”

“I enjoyed meeting you, too. Don’t be a stranger. You can come to see me anytime,” Grandma said sincerely. “Now, you take my granddaughter and go see what kind of trouble you can get her into.”

She shooed them out the door then stood in the doorway waving while Rebecca headed the Buick back up the road toward town.

“I love your grandma,” Olivia exclaimed. “She is so…real. I mean, she’s nothing like my grandmother. You’re lucky to have such a wonderful person in your life.”

Rebecca hadn’t considered it, but she did feel pretty blessed to have been born into her family. “I agree completely,” she said.

Mrs. Wright wasn’t able to help them out and they were both a little dejected as they left her house. She had suggested they drive around to see if they could spot the house from the picture. Their optimism had been damaged that much more when she pointed out the house may not be standing anymore.

Rebecca, trying to stay positive, suggested they drive down each street in Springtown. The streets were basically aligned in a grid pattern with seven streets running north and south, eight running east and west. It wouldn’t take long to see the entire town.

The old Buick putt-putted along the narrow streets as Rebecca pointed out the highlights of town. There weren’t many, and most people probably wouldn’t call them highlights, but they were the hubs of what little activity this town ever saw. There was the post office, the beauty shop, four churches, two gas stations, the small general store and the volunteer fire department with a flashing sign in front advertising their bluegrass singing the second Saturday of every month, and where numerous benefits had been held for local residents in times of need.

Olivia was intrigued by the makeup of the little town. “Four churches! Isn’t that a little much for a town this small? And there aren’t any bars. I thought every town had a bar.”

“The old tavern building is on the north end of town but it’s been deserted for years. I heard Dad say the other day someone was planning to tear it down. And there’s a place south of town that was a bar for a while but someone remodeled it and is living in it now. People just drive to Rockford or Freedom if they want a bar. As far as the churches go, there used to be five. I guess even though there may be fewer people in a small town, there are still a lot of different ways of thinking about things,” Rebecca speculated.

“I can agree with having different ways of thinking about things,” Olivia said, with a sideways glance at Rebecca.

Rebecca felt a little skip in her heartbeat and a little flush crept into her cheeks but she was able to say, in what she hoped was a normal tone, “Yeah, me too.”

They finished the streets in town and were back at Rebecca’s house by one o’clock. “Just in time for lunch,” her mother greeted them as they came in the door. “Olivia, I presume? I’m Beth, or Mom, whichever you’d like to call me. I have three daughters who call me Mom, so one more won’t be a problem. Girls, sit down at the table,” she continued, not giving Olivia a chance to respond. “I just mixed up some chicken salad for sandwiches. I’m making lunch for Dad and Uncle Jim but there is plenty. I was hoping you’d run it over to them when you’ve finished your lunch, Rebecca, if you’re not too busy. They’re bush-hogging the field behind the catfish pond.”

“Bush hogging?” Olivia asked as she sat down at the table.

Rebecca gathered plates and made sandwiches as her mother explained the machinery and techniques used to clear brush from the rolling, rocky pastures of the Ozarks. Rebecca’s mother and Olivia chatted easily throughout the meal, giving Rebecca a chance to sit back and reflect on the morning. It had been a good morning and Rebecca believed she had enjoyed every minute since Olivia had driven into the parking lot at the gas station.

“Rebecca!” her mother said loudly.

Rebecca jumped as she realized she had been ignoring the conversation between her mother and Olivia while she drifted in her thoughts. “Yes. I’m here. What did you say?”

“I know you’re here, dear. I was just saying to be back for an early supper at five. Dad and I have that visitation to go to tonight and we want to leave by six, at least,” her mother reminded her.

“Okay, sounds good. Well, Olivia, shall we take Dad and Uncle Jim their lunch?” Rebecca looked over at Olivia, who was smiling that funny smile at her again.

Her mother quickly gathered the sandwiches in a bag and handed Olivia the jug of tea. “See you at five. Oh, and don’t forget your blaze orange.”

“Got it, Mom,” Rebecca said as she grabbed the orange hats from the hat rack by the back door.

“Thanks for lunch, Mom,” Rebecca and Olivia chimed together, then laughed as they headed out the door.

“What’s up with the hats?” Olivia asked as they headed for the car.

“Oh, it’s rifle hunting season for deer and Mom worries we’ll get shot going out in the field without some blaze orange on to warn the hunters.”

“But, I’ll mess up my hair.” Olivia pretended to pout, sticking out her lower lip a little, but was unable to prevent a laugh.

“Too bad,” Rebecca answered with mock seriousness. “Mother has spoken.”

It was a short drive around the pastures to Uncle Jim’s house where Rebecca had fished just two weeks before. Aunt Patsy was in St. Louis visiting their oldest daughter for a couple of days so the house and the yard were empty when they pulled up. Rebecca saw her father’s truck sitting across the field and could hear the tractor running in the distance. “Guess we’ll walk from here,” she said. “If that’s okay, I mean.”

“I would love to walk with you,” said Olivia, climbing out of the Buick with the jug of tea in hand.

Rebecca tossed her one of the hats from the dashboard and laughed as Olivia placed it on her head. Instead of fitting snugly against her head, it nestled at an angle atop unruly curls which sprang unevenly from beneath the edges. She could tell Olivia wasn’t used to wearing a ball cap but its awkward placement somehow made her look even more beautiful. She slapped her own cap on her head, familiar with the feel of it, immediately comfortable with its fit. She grabbed the sandwiches and pushed the door shut with her hip then walked to the front of the car to join Olivia for the hike into the field.

“That’s my dad standing over by the truck.” Rebecca pointed as they drew nearer. A tall, graying man stood behind the truck, his attention captured by a chainsaw resting on the tailgate in front of him. His jeans were faded and patched and as they watched, he rubbed his hand over the side of his pant leg, leaving long streaks of black to mingle with the faded stains from days past. “Mom won’t let him ruin a good pair of jeans so she patches the old ones until there’s nothing left to hold the patches together,” Rebecca explained.

“Dad, we brought lunch,” she yelled.

He turned at the sound of her voice, spying them immediately and smiling a warm welcome. He wiped his hand on his pant leg again as he walked toward them, reaching his hand out to Olivia before Rebecca could introduce her. “You must be Olivia,” he said with a slight country drawl. “I’m Willie, Rebecca’s dad.”

Olivia smiled and took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Wilcox.”

“No. Call me Willie or Dad, please. Don’t make me feel any older than I already do.” He placed his hand over Rebecca’s ball cap and turned it sideways. “This one already makes me feel old. Seems like yesterday she was climbing up my leg trying to steal the change out of my pants pockets. Now look at her.”

Rebecca thought about just pulling the ball cap down over her face instead of straightening it on her head. “Dad,” she warned and he smiled mischievously.

“Bec, run out and flag down your Uncle Jim while Olivia and I talk.”

She thought about protesting but finally decided she and Olivia would be able to leave more quickly if she just did what he asked.

Her Uncle Jim was at the back side of the pasture and had just headed the tractor toward her. She ran toward him waving her arm to get his attention. When he was about fifty yards away, he slowed and she heard him shut down the bush hog to avoid throwing dangerous broken pieces of trees or rocks at her as he pulled alongside. She quickly stepped up onto the tractor beside him and sat on the fender for the short trip to the truck.

Her Uncle Jim shared her father’s blue eyes and tall, thin frame, but his curly brown hair, so different from her father’s thick and graying straight hair, guaranteed that one would never be mistaken for the other. Rebecca leapt down from the tractor as soon as it stopped and introduced Olivia to her Uncle Jim. She shot her father a questioning look as they greeted each other, wondering what he had said while she was gone but he smiled innocently at her, worrying her even more.

The men were hungry and were glad to get the sandwiches and tea. “What are you girls up to this afternoon?” Willie asked, between bites of chicken salad. He tapped his index finger on the bill of Rebecca’s cap. “You aren’t planning on going deer hunting, are you?”

“No, just showing Olivia around some,” Rebecca replied. “The caps were Mom’s idea.”

“Showing her the highlights of the big city of Springtown, Bec?” he said, jokingly.

“I thought about leaving the car here for a few minutes and walking over to show her Peacock Cemetery. It wouldn’t be a full tour of town if I didn’t show her our haunted graveyard, would it?”

The men both laughed at this, then spent the next few minutes trying to outdo each other with ghost stories they had heard associated with Peacock Cemetery. Rebecca had heard the stories all her life and didn’t believe a word of them. Olivia seemed interested but Rebecca wasn’t sure if she actually believed them or just enjoyed listening to their storytelling. If there was one thing her dad’s family was good at, it would be telling a tall tale. She had learned years ago to look for a certain twinkle in the eye that none of them could disguise when they were getting windy. She could see both sets of blue eyes twinkling that afternoon.

Finally they finished their sandwiches and handed the bag and empty tea jug to Rebecca. Rebecca remembered to remind her dad about the early supper then she and Olivia headed back to the Buick to stow the remnants of lunch. Rebecca pointed to a grove of trees across the field on the opposite side of Uncle Jim’s house. “Peacock Cemetery is just beyond that stand of trees there. Are you up to walking a little more?”

“Sure,” Olivia said. “Especially if it means going to a haunted graveyard.” She laughed as she said this then continued in a more serious tone. “All those stories about people seeing a woman wandering the area looking for her lost baby really makes you wonder, though. Who knows what might have happened a century ago?”

Rebecca held the middle two wires apart so Olivia could step through the fence into the pasture. She showed Olivia how to hold the top wire up as she pushed down the second wire and also stepped through. On the way across the pasture, Rebecca explained, “Well, I’m not really sure I believe all those ghost stories. Some people say it’s haunted but people say lots of things I don’t necessarily believe. Dad and Uncle Jim are a couple of storytellers, too. I definitely take every story they tell with a grain of salt.”

“I noticed how much they enjoyed it,” Olivia noted. “If they’re having that much fun with the telling of it, it makes you wonder how much they embellish it.”

“Probably quite a bit, knowing those two,” Rebecca admitted. “I wanted you to see Peacock Cemetery for a different reason, though.”

Now she really had Olivia’s interest. “I’m not sure what could be more interesting in a cemetery than a ghost but I’m all ears,” she said.

“You don’t look all ears,” Rebecca joked then noticed as she said it that, no, Olivia definitely did NOT look all ears. She actually looked all curves and Rebecca appreciated the smooth rounding of her hips and breasts, so different from her own thin, lanky frame.

Rebecca hadn’t noticed she had stopped walking while she appraised Olivia from head to toe until Olivia broke the spell and said, “I’m glad you noticed.” Then she smiled that funny little smile and resumed walking toward the cemetery, leaving Rebecca to try to stem the hot blush which had rushed to her cheeks.

What is going on with me? When did I start cruising girls?

As she caught up to Olivia again, Rebecca found it difficult to look at her, instead looking everywhere else. She heard Olivia chuckle slightly and felt the blush start again. Finally, she was able to restore enough control to finish her original thoughts on the cemetery.

“The research I’ve been doing at the Genealogical Society and library is because of something I saw at Peacock Cemetery.”

They had arrived at the old fence surrounding the cemetery and Rebecca opened the rickety gate and bowed slightly to usher Olivia through. Rebecca led her cautiously through the weeds until they stood before Mary Farthing’s headstone. She told her about the newly overturned dirt she had found in front of the headstone two weeks previous. The dirt had packed again due to recent rains but no grass grew there yet, so she could easily see where the digging had occurred.

“I know this isn’t as interesting or as important as your mystery,” she said. “But nothing out of the ordinary ever happens around here so something like this seemed like a big deal to me.”

“I think it’s very interesting,” Olivia countered. “Have you thought about digging down to see what’s there?”

“No!” Rebecca almost shouted. “I don’t know what part of that bothers me more, digging over someone’s grave, or whatever it is we might find. Besides, Dad always said to be careful around old graves, there’s a chance they could fall in if you walk over them.”

“Okay, okay,” Olivia laughed, putting her hand on Rebecca’s arm to calm her down. “We don’t have to dig. I’m sure there’s more than one way to figure it out. What have you found out so far?”