Ruby and Rebecka: Chapter Three

Chapter Three

It was late afternoon when she finally arrived at the Fripp graveyard. A tall metal gate enclosed ancient live oaks, dripping with tangled gray moss, and graves jutting from the ground like old teeth. Some ancient and worn down by wind and salt air, and some new and shiny granite.

She hesitated at the entrance, her heart all up in her throat, throttling her.

Why isn't she going straight in?

Hope, she is feeling mighty bad. Bad like a summer cold and a sick heart all mixed up and open.

Becka tried to push these strange feelings back down deep into the interior. She'd made her own grave, and it lived inside her, and all the things she refused to feel were buried there, and now it was like grave robbers were exhuming it all, and she hated this.

Mosquitos swarmed. She stamped her foot. "I hate this." Then she pulled herself together, tugged on her skirt and pushed back her hair. "I'm so sorry, Granny. And thank you. And I just don't think I can go on in. It just feels... well it just feels bad."

Please sugar, please try.

All God's children can fly. Inez still had a gorgeous bass voice even as a ghost.

Becka shuddered, pursed her lips, and swallowed hard. She let out an exasperated sigh, "ok ok. Lord I just don't know what has come over me." She pushed into the gate and wove her way amongst the graves, crunching over the brittle leaves and the crushed oyster shell and sand pathways. The heat was barely subsiding even though the light softened, and the mosquitoes were just building up steam.

Hope stuck her hand out the window. Inez, I think we can leave the car here. She laughed. And then wafted like a zephyr through the car window past Becka and then leading her by sucking her through the ancient paths winding through the graves with Inez floating alongside her, until they arrived at a fresh grave with a shiny granite headstone.

Hope Bowen Fripp Nov. 3, 1924 – June 24, 2014 Beloved By All

Hope whispered in Becka's ear, I am here, sugar. I am here, and Inez is with me.

A high-pitched buzzing sound started up around her right ear. Becka swatted at her ear like swatting at mosquitoes. She looked around then, took in the silence, the graves jutting out of the sand. The live oaks and their whispery moss. The oyster shell pathway. The pungent rotten cabbage smell of the marsh. She sank onto her knees by her Granny's grave, overcome and yet oddly emotionless still. Was there something wrong with her heart, she wondered?

She felt neutral about driving all this way. She hadn't told her husband. She hadn't cried for her grandmother or for Inez. She was like a ghost herself, drifting through life, or maybe she was a mirage. A fiction.

She shook her head. Grief makes you strange in the head, she thought.

I am just exhausted, she thought. And she leaned back against the gravestone like she was settling into a bed. She closed her eyes, and let the silence and the heat and the mosquitos have their way with her. Sweat beaded down her temple and down into the grimy crease in her neck. Her hair stuck to the sweat, plastering to her face.

I am so sorry, Granny. But I am here. I came. I have Bertha and I have the envelope. I was stubborn too.

A little tornado of cross feeling began swirling up from her belly.

Inez began singing really loudly now, and suddenly Hope chimed in, and they flung their wraith arms around each other's waists and sang together, as if combined they would make enough volume to pierce the veil.

Becka snapped her head up. "Granny, Inez? Are y'all here?"

Yes, the two old ghosts chorused, we are here.

Becka blinked. Hard, and shook her head. Ruby swooped down from a low branch and landed on Becka's shoulder, startling her.

"Lord, Ruby, you liked to scare the shit out of me."

The ghosts twittered then and sang on as the sun sank lower in the sky, casting a golden glow out over the marsh.

Ruby hopped down onto the gravestone and bounced from foot to foot like she was dancing. And bobbed her head and made strange crow sounds like she was fixing to burst into song.

"King isn't a lemon," Becka whispered up to the branches of the trees. "He's just," she paused, "he's just very confident. He has strong opinions. He's just a man. He can't help himself."

Mmmhmm, Inez said. That's always the excuse of the mens. Lord only knows why the womens go along with them.

And Granny said, He's a bully. And you hushed up so completely, I don't even know who you are anymore. Look at yourself, honey. Where did you put your voice?

Something hard landed in Becka's chest like she'd been punched, and she sucked in a breath, and her eyes pricked. "He loves me, I believe, he loves me and I love him," she said stubbornly.

Inez swirled her hands around, and an image of a baby formed in Becka's mind. A baby girl she named Lily, but she wasn't blue the way she was when she was born. She was a bright little sunny creature, and when she laughed it sounded like singing. And there was King. Not showing his sad. Acting all brusque and like, well, we have to move forward.

A tear slipped down Becka's cheek, mingling with the sweat, so she didn't even recognize what it was.

She brushed it away and sat up straight.

"I am not revisiting all that."

She clutched at her throat and rubbed the throbbing starting up in her temples. "Come on Ruby, we need to find a place to stay for the night. I love you, Granny. I do. Tomorrow I will find some flowers and then I will search out Inez's grave too. But we need to go right now."

Ain't you gonna sing, girl? Inez whirled around her, trying to make some wind. And Hope flew fast behind her.

Becka looped her purse over her arm and then ran as fast as she could through the gravestones, along the oyster shell pathways, back to the gate. She stopped and leaned over panting. And the two ghosts swirled around her, making little eddies in the air, and the trees answered by swaying overhead.

Inez, Inez, did you see what you did? You swirled your hands around, and she saw what you were thinking about!

Yes, Mam, Inez said, laughing. I reckon that's how we can talk with her.

I'm going to do it too.

Becka flung her purse across the bench seat and then flung herself in there too. "Get in, Ruby. Hurry. I need to shut the door. I need to shut out the haints. I need to keep us safe from the plat-eye."

Oh, she remember the plat-eye. Well, that's something.

What on earth is the plat-eye, Inez?

Inez turned her head away from Hope and hummed into the darkening night.

"I have to find us somewhere to stay," Becka said. "I never thought a graveyard could be so darn irritating," she muttered to herself as she squealed back onto the dirt road. Suddenly remembering to watch out for plat-eye and other dangerous spirits.

                                      ~~~~

The faded pink flamingo rose into the sky with the neon vacancy sign blinking beneath its foot. The Flamingo Court. Becka's arms and back ached. This will have to do, she thought, although doubtful she would get a wink of sleep in such a forlorn looking establishment.

She took the key from a pale looking woman and, clutching her purse and her sacks of leftover vegetables, let herself into the room. The window air conditioner rattled and wheezed. A steady drip of condensation made a puddle on the shag carpet. She wrinkled her nose and then sank onto the bed, immediately thinking of a scene in a movie where the main characters had shone a black light onto motel bedspreads and carpets to reveal all manner of revolting stains. She leapt up and stripped the nylon comforter off the bed, then stood with her hands limp by her side.

A pecking sound at the window made her jump. Ruby was peering in the window, pecking at the glass and cocking her head so her eye peered in at Becka.

"I don't think you can be in here, honey."

Ruby pecked more insistently at the window now until Becka finally opened the door, and before she could protest again the bird flew right past her and settled on the headboard of the sagging bed.

Well, alrighty then, but I guess you might poop everywhere.

Ruby turned her head away as if insulted.

Becka laughed.

"OK, I'll go see if there is anything in the back of the car we can use for you to poop on. Although I can't imagine it could get any worse in here."

In the very back of Bertha, she found a pile of old rags, some ancient newspapers, and Granny's valise. How had she missed this? She'd been so anxious to drive off it had never occurred to her to explore the interior of the car. When she tugged it, she could feel it full.

"Look what I found," she said to Ruby, as she hefted the valise onto the bed.

"This day is just full of surprises."

She snapped open the suitcase, and there inside, all pressed and packed, she found a suitcase full of clothes as if Granny had been planning one more excursion before she succumbed to her illness.

Becka began carefully taking the clothes out and laying them neatly on the bed. She started to laugh. Here was a dress for going to dinner. A pair of sandals. Some Bermuda shorts and three sleeveless button-down blouses. Antique like Bertha the Nomad but still in perfect condition. Here was a nightgown and a washcloth, and a toothbrush still wrapped in faded yellow cellophane and oh, at the bottom of the case, a soft feather pillow with a linen pillowcase, pressed and still faintly smelling of lavender. 

"Look at all this, Ruby. Well my granny always said we must be prepared for all eventualities. She was right. It's like treasure."

Granny had been tall and lanky like her. She tugged off her sweaty t-shirt and put on the blouse. She tugged the shorts up under her skirt and folded the waistband over so they would stay up. She hadn't realized how thin she'd grown over the last few years. No wonder King called her stork sometimes.

Oh, King, she thought. King. Shoot.

She picked up her phone. No call. No text.

A cold white feeling rushed like fog through her belly.

Is he leaving me?

What? She sucked in a shuddery breath.

No, no, there must be some explanation. Her mind began to race...maybe he is in the hospital...there has been an accident...but somebody would have called me... he lost his phone... he dropped it in the toilet again, that must be it...

She texted. Where are you? And immediately saw he read the text.

Ellipses danced, then paused, then nothing.

She stared at her phone waiting, and when she realized he wasn't going to answer, she jabbed his name and sat listening to the ring, but he did not pick up.

Oh, come on now, this is ridiculous, she texted. Are you mad that I'm not home? I started driving and then I needed to come to see Granny's grave, so I'm on the island.

Finally, he responded. That's fine. You take all the time you need.

She stared at her phone now, pursing her lips tight.

Ruby, I have no idea what's going on but this is weird. Just weird. And she thought of Kings assistant, Crissy then, watching them two-step from the sidelines and how she'd swooped in to dance with King every chance she got, and how she had told Becka she could take over doing the books now. Becka, cool as a cucumber, said, "Well, honey, that is my job," appraising Crissy's tidy blonde hair and trim little figure in her rhinestone-studded jeans and tight t-shirt. And she could dance. It was infuriating.

"King says you are awfully busy these days, and he doesn't need you to be working when he has me."

Becka blinked and narrowed her eyes. "Well bless your heart, honey, that doesn't sound like my husband."

Crissy just arched her eyebrow and shrugged. "I'm going to get a drink."

And now Becka stood in the forlorn motel room wrapped in the clothes of a ghost with a crow staring at her and beginning to peck at the bag of tomatoes. The juice had soaked through the paper and began to seep across the nightstand like watery blood.

She shook herself out of her reverie and said, "Are you starving? I'm starving."

 We can eat this for dinner, and tomorrow I will find us some real food.

Ruby hopped over and began tearing at her tomatoes with her sharp curved beak. Becka bit into hers like an apple.

"It's good," she said, "Even without mayonnaise or salt."

Later, after showering, she lay in the bed with the nylon sheet pulled up to her chin, trying not to shiver with the creeps. And a crow right up next to her face.

She tried to sleep. She had never slept alone in a  motel room before. The night shadows flickered across the stained ceiling like an old silent movie.

When she did finally sleep the dreams came again, but different this time. No Granny. No Inez. No ghosts. Instead, she ran through a strange and distorted landscape of bending live oaks, moaning moss, and monstrous rhododendrons. Huge red flowers listed sideways, gaping like grotesque vaginas. A baby girl crawled from one of the flowers, laughing and chubby, with dark curly hair and dancing hazel eyes that stood out against her coffee cream complexion. The baby laughed and reached for Becka, but when she bent to scoop her up the baby grew smaller and smaller, finally vanishing into the mist that swirled over the flowers and the trees now. The baby began crying and then was sucked into the mist, the crying growing fainter and fainter until she was gone altogether. And then King stood in the middle of a golden field with his back to her. She couldn't reach him either.

Becka woke gasping for air. She felt lost and alone in a sea of monstrous foliage and a roaring pain surging through her temples. Next to her Ruby  stood and fluffed her feathers. Light filtered through the thin curtain

“What do we do now?” Becka looked at her odd companion “What am I supposed to do now?”