By the time the summer season had retreated to the cooler offerings of autumn, Andrew McCann had recovered from the physical injury that nearly claimed his life. During his recuperation, he promised his son that he would one day correct the past injustices in the best way he could possibly manage. After discussing numerous options, Kyle suggested that they should make it an obligation to visit the peach grove and pray for forgiveness. It was already clear to Kyle and Andrew that their relationship would never be the same.
As it was, Linda McCann had moved out of their home and decided to spend some time with her mother in Connecticut so that she could reevaluate her marriage. Kyle opted to stay with his father during his recovery. This wasn’t a terrible consequence in Kyle’s mind. Long before Kyle discovered his father’s darkest secret, he sensed that their relationship had dissolved to almost nothing. Perhaps this was the time to make things better between them.
On a late afternoon in early October in which the weather seemed to be borrowed from a calendar’s page, Kyle and his father ventured into the peach grove to finally put closure to the curse that plagued Meadowton for thirty years. Both of them concluded that an offering to nature would be an appropriate way to mend the tainted land. They carried two small peach trees into the woods off Adler Lane on this day. Nothing had grown in the soil for more than three decades, but they both reserved the hope that something good could flourish from a past evil.
Kyle watched patiently as his father dug both holes for the trees. Andrew was careful to allow enough space for the saplings roots to fuse with the earth. Once the holes were adequate in width and depth, Kyle loosened the burlap around the trees’ roots and set them into their designated spots in the grove.
“We’re going to need plenty of water for these trees for the first couple of weeks,” Andrew thought. “I suppose we can bail it out of Shade Tree Pond.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea, Dad? I mean, considering everything…”
Andrew was trying to be practical since the pond was the closest source of water, but he understood his son’s reservation. “I think it will be okay, Kyle. Sylvia would’ve wanted it this way.”
Perhaps there was something honorable with this symbolic gesture, since the water would in fact be giving life to the trees as opposed to extinguishing it from another life form. Besides, Kyle didn’t come out here today to argue with his father. They spent another twenty minutes planting the trees and discussing the duties of adding new saplings to the grove in the spring. Kyle assured his father that he would shoulder the responsibilities from here on out.
It was nearing twilight when they settled on a blanket near the grove to admire the first two living peach trees standing upright in the soil in over thirty years. By now all the other dead trees had been cleared away by a construction crew. Even Murden’s farmhouse was dismantled and the surrounding field cleaned of its debris. Many people in town had talked about planting new peach trees since the summer, but Kyle and Andrew were the first ones to actually do it.
“Do you think the curse is really over, Dad?” Kyle asked his father while studying the barren soil closely. It had been nearly three months since the dead trees were removed from the grove, yet not a single weed or wildflower sprouted from the soil where the trees once stood. The surrounding environs were otherwise replete with the colors of autumn.
Andrew didn’t know exactly how to answer his son, but he tried to say something that he thought the boy might want to hear. “I believe that whatever happened in this peach grove will never occur again. It’s hard to believe that this place was actually haunted.”
“But you saw her with your own eyes,” Kyle reminded his father.
“I know, I know,” Andrew replied while trying to place his arm around Kyle’s shoulder. Although Kyle didn’t flinch at his father’s touch, it was still painfully obvious to Andrew that his son was uncomfortable with any sense of closeness from him.
“We’ve got a lot of things to work out,” Andrew smirked as he patted Kyle on his knee. “Planting a couple of trees is a nice gesture, but that sure won’t make all the mistakes I made disappear.”
Kyle nodded in agreement at his father’s insight. He didn’t feel an urge to respond at the moment. By the look on the boy’s face, Andrew determined that something was troubling his son.
“Do you have something else on your mind, Kyle?”
“Well,” Kyle pouted. “I’m thinking about mom. Do you think you and her are ever going to get back together?”
Andrew was silenced momentarily by the question. His wife’s decision to leave had caused him great pain, almost as much as admitting the truth to her. “I’m trying to make things right with your mom, Kyle,” he answered honestly. “It’s going to take some time for her to trust me again. I don’t know if I’d even try to be as understanding as she has been.”
“Yeah,” Kyle smiled confidently. “She’s a special person. There’s something to be said for having a mother like her.”
The recognition of his past sins caused Andrew to retreat from reality at times. When he did this, he attempted to pretend that none of this had happened. But the dirt embedded beneath his fingernails reminded him that he could not escape from the aftermath of his misdeeds.
“You know, Kyle,” Andrew thought aloud. “I wish there was a way for a man to go back in time and fix everything that he ever did wrong in his lifetime.” Andrew realized that this wasn’t a terribly original notion. Many men before him had no doubt expressed a similar desire to alter the consequences of their shortcomings.
“I read somewhere,” Kyle remarked, “that if a man truly had the ability to go back in time and correct his mistakes, he would most likely make the same choices all over again.”
“Well, I can say, knowing what I do now, that I wouldn’t repeat what I’ve done.”
“I suppose some mistakes seem bigger than others as time goes by,” Kyle mused. “But I guess if you’ve learned something about yourself, then there’s still time to make the future better.”
“I agree, Kyle. I think we’re starting to do that right now.”
At that point, Andrew would’ve been content to let this subject fade away for now. Perhaps not enough time had elapsed for him to sit with his son and examine his wrongdoings with true clarity. Kyle, however, seemed adamant about exploring his father’s subconscious thoughts with more precision.
Kyle’s concentration momentarily drifted to a bird singing in the nearby thicket. The melody soothed the boy’s thoughts for a few seconds before he continued. “It’s all so peaceful out here. I can’t believe all those people died in this grove, and their bodies still haven’t been found.”
“I don’t think they’ll ever find those missing people,” Andrew told his son. “I suppose we just have to go on the best way we know how, and keep them all in our prayers.”
“Yeah,” Kyle muttered with a slight degree of dissatisfaction. “But do you really think that’s good enough, Dad?”
Andrew peered despondently at his son and shrugged his shoulders like a child who didn’t possess an answer to a question. He suspected that his son wanted him to say or do something to mend the circumstances, but Andrew didn’t know exactly how to regain the boy’s faith.
“Look, Kyle,” Andrew stated nervously. “We’ve already talked about the things that I can’t change. I don’t have the capabilities to bring Sylvia or any of the others back. All I can do is repent for the harm that I’ve caused to so many innocent people. I think if we’re ever going to recover as a family, we’ve got to put all of this behind us.”
Kyle’s face became incredibly pale in the next few seconds. He was obviously struggling to fight off tears that swelled in the corners of his eyes. “That’s why you want to sell our house, huh, Dad? You really do want to leave here and forget everything that’s happened.”
“For the sake of our family, we must, Kyle. There’s nothing left here for us now except bitter memories. Truthfully, I should’ve taken you and your
mother away from this town a long time ago.”
“That would’ve been too easy for you,” Kyle said, perturbed by his father’s suggestion. “You might’ve kept your secret forever.”
Andrew didn’t wish to express to his son that such a decision would’ve been far easier to deal with than the current situation. Andrew might’ve confronted his own sins in time, but certainly not at the cost of losing the love and trust of his wife and son.
For a few seconds a silence consumed the thoughts of both Andrew and Kyle as they listened to the bird’s melody. Andrew hoped that the signs of nature thriving within the proximity of the peach grove would soften Kyle’s mood, but the boy was not yet content. He had more questions for his father.
“Do you ever really think about Sylvia Fletcher, Dad? I mean, do you wonder what kind of person she would’ve grown up to be?”
Andrew bowed his head closer to his knees as he leaned forward in his seated position. He sounded thoroughly depressed when he answered, “I don’t really know, Kyle. I suppose in recent weeks I’ve given her quite a bit of thought. I’ve been thinking a lot about Ben Murden, too. It’s just all very upsetting.”
Kyle positioned his face closer to his father when he admitted, “I still see Sylvia, Dad.” The boy’s face remained petrified in these seconds.
“You see her?” Andrew looked confused as he gazed around the grove. “Where do you see her?” he questioned.
“In my dreams,” Kyle said, which caused a sigh of relief to expel from his father. “She seems to be trying to tell me something, but I can’t make out her face.”
Andrew suddenly began to reevaluate his decision to venture into these woods with his son so soon after their encounter with the ghost. He shifted onto his knees and grabbed Kyle gently by his arm. “Maybe we need to get away from these memories for a little while,” Andrew suggested. “But you have to understand, Kyle, that these woods are clean now. Sylvia’s spirit is gone from here. We’ve done everything humanly possible. I don’t think Sylvia could ask anything more of us.”
Kyle appeared appeased by his father’s confidence. A natural color slowly seeped back into the boy’s complexion and his mood seemed relatively upbeat. “I guess you’re right, Dad. I mean, there’s no sense of worrying about this forever, right? We deserve to have our lives back in order.”
Since Andrew didn’t discern a trace of sarcasm in his son’s tone, he agreed by saying, “Like I told you, Kyle, it’s going to take us some time, but I think we’re going to get through this together.”
Kyle nodded and stood up from the blanket. After dusting off his jeans, he took one last look at the grove and its newly planted peach trees. He then turned back towards his father with a new energy brewing in his bright eyes.
“I don’t think we’ll ever need to come back here together, Dad,” Kyle announced with a sense of accomplishment. “Our work here is done. Let’s go home, okay?”
Andrew smiled at his son’s courage and he let out a deep sigh. He then began to roll up the blanket as Kyle went to retrieve the shovel near the peach trees. As Andrew rolled the blanket neatly, he listened to the bird’s song. But the melody suddenly faded away. In the seconds that followed, he only heard the approaching footsteps of his son.
“Dad,” Kyle called out gently. “I forgot to mention one other thing about my dream….”
Andrew still tended to the blanket. He hadn’t yet turned to face his son. “Well,” he responded hesitantly, “do you think it’s important?”
“I think so,” Kyle muttered. “In my dreams, Sylvia isn’t alone. There’s another person with her—a woman.”
“I—I don’t why that matters, Kyle,” Andrew stammered.
“Well,” Kyle continued. “This woman is wearing a white dress, just like Sylvia’s dress on the night she died. But unlike Sylvia, I can see this woman’s face. She is very sad, and she keeps asking me to do something for her.”
“It’s just a nightmare, Kyle. We’ll talk more about it later.”
“Dad,” Kyle said in a softer voice. “You never told me what happened to Sylvia’s mother after she found out that her daughter was murdered. Ben didn’t know what happened to her either. Everyone thought she left town…”
“I never knew Sylvia’s mother,” Andrew said, now pivoting slightly from his kneeling position to see Kyle trembling with the shovel in hand.
“Elizabeth Fletcher never left Meadowton,” Kyle replied. His voice became noticeably graver as he spoke. “The night after Sylvia’s body was uncovered, Elizabeth Fletcher drowned herself in Shade Tree Pond. She wanted to be with her daughter again. Sylvia was the only person she ever loved.”
Andrew’s own voice began to tremble as he watched his son’s face grow bloodlessly pale again. “Kyle, I don’t know if any of that’s true or not…”
“It’s all true,” Kyle stated matter-of-factly. “Elizabeth Fletcher is the woman in my dreams, and she wants me to do something for her.”
“What could she want you to do?”
Kyle’s eyes suddenly flashed with a hatred that Andrew had never witnessed before. A wicked smile curved into the boy’s expression as he yelled, “She wants me to end this curse now and forever!”
Before Andrew could utter another word, Kyle raised the shovel above his head and swung it downward into his father’s skull. Andrew never managed to scream. The metal spade instantly crushed the side of his temple and split his face in the center. Blood poured from the man’s distorted face in syrupy gobs. Andrew then plopped over into the soil, facedown in the dirt. His body twitched once or twice before becoming completely motionless. There was no need for Kyle to issue a second assault. Andrew McCann was dead.
One chore remained before the peach grove grew dark again. Every man required a final resting spot, and Kyle would make certain that his father found his beneath the soil of the peach trees he had just planted. Just before twilight, Kyle had the pit completed. He did not speak or shed a single tear during this process. Before dragging his father into his grave, Kyle took a moment to study the man’s tortured features. He died with an expression of shock and fear eternally cemented in his eyes. Kyle imagined that Sylvia possessed a similar look when she was murdered. In the boy’s mind, justice had been finally delivered.
After Kyle buried the body, he stared up into the orange-tinted sky. The meadow crickets began their nightly ritual in the nearby thicket. The boy took a moment to savor these sounds. A feeling of complete serenity flowed over his senses. He then sat on the soil beside one of the peach trees in silence. From his pocket he removed a piece of jewelry. The silver bracelet glowed in his hands. The gemstones had been magically restored to their original splendor. An emission of light spilled out across the grove.
Within these strands of motley-colored light, Kyle discerned two images hovering in the grove. The images appeared almost translucent to his eyes, but he plainly saw both of their faces. Both of them were smiling and holding hands. Mother and daughter were together again in peace, and all seemed right within this realm of nature.
Kyle remained in the grove a few minutes longer, allowing himself some time to appreciate the thought of Sylvia being reunited with her mother. Nothing could ever take them apart from one another again. The curse was truly over. And as Kyle studied their flowing images mixing between the patterns of light, he distinguished one final melody building within his mind. He recognized the voices as a mother and daughter chanting in unison. It was a song that Kyle McCann would remember for the rest of his days.
“In time the wounds of life will mend,
But through it all there’s a thought to lend
To the fallen children of callous deeds
Who sometimes perish like un-ripened seeds.
And to the soil their silent shells do go
To rot and wither in the earth below.
And those they leave are left to find
A glimpse of hope in the ties that bind.
But the child lost does
not feel the end,
For it is a farce to simply lie or pretend
That such a wronged spirit is not in need
Of the force that compels our breed
To thrive and laugh, play and grow;
To discover things they’ve yet to know.
Soon the living shall understand her mind
Because all who die don’t become divine.
Some do keep to this world so cruel
To suffer until they’ve exposed the fool
Who sent them to such an early frost,
And now the living must pay a cost
Because shattered souls linger in dreams
They fade and glide between the seams
Of memories lost and futures won,
But in the end it will all be undone.
A time has come to mark the way
To lead the weary onto another day
Where children live in eternal bliss,
And prayers to heaven won’t be missed.
The soul will rise and blossoms will spread
Showing us all—both the living and dead
That when the fruit is both clean and pure
The disease will cease and they’ll be a cure
And that shall soon set the spirits free
As we revere in the songs of a peach tree.”
THE END
Also by Michael Ciardi:
Phantoms of the Moon
The Classic Crusade of Corbin Cobbs
The Serial Comic
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