Buried On My Land
A Novel
by K. Massari
Buried On My Land
By Karen Massari
Copyright ? 2015 Karen Massari
This ebook is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. However, no author can deny a certain amount of inspiration. There is the story of Rosalia Lombardo, forever preserved by renowned chemist Alfredo Salafia. Furthermore, there is the haunting tale of La Pascualita, the Mexican bridal mannequin. Both served as sources in my exploration of the paranormal for this book.
Cover Design by
www.SelfPubBookCovers.com/Raffael
Formatting by
www.tugboatdesign.net
Chapter 1
"There," Jesse said, pointing her cigarette in the direction of an old gray Victorian.
Willy chuckled.
"That?"
"Like I told you."
"Old, empty and boarded-up?"
"He's in there."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, he's in there. He doesn't go anywhere."
Willy slowed, opening a can of beer.
"Pile o' shit."
"What did you expect?"
Willy stared straight ahead, through the windshield.
"Now what?" he growled.
"Park the car."
Jesse rattled the door until she was able to open it, while Willy was still driving, inching along. Jesse ran towards Tom's house, as Willy nudged the car into a spot further down the street. Jesse hopped up the few steps gingerly and landed on the porch. She knocked on the front door. The paint was chipped and the doorbell hung loose. No one answered.
She rushed back down the steps and disappeared along the side of the house. Willy looked up, surprised. He had popped the trunk open and was lifting their bags and things out. He followed Jesse quickly to the back, not bothering to take in his surroundings.
Willy didn't want to know who was standing behind the curtains, lurking, watching him, watching Jesse, thinking and planning. He hoped no one was home and Grandma was in bed.
In the yard, a hastily thrown-together toolshed stood leaning against a large barn. Both structures had seen a better day. Jesse dashed out of her hiding place, motioning him to come quickly. Willy had three bags slung over his shoulder. He complied. Together they entered the toolshed.
"So this is home now," he said and spat on the dusty dirt floor.
"It wasn't locked," Jesse announced cheerfully.
"It's never been locked, and I knew that."
"What else counts as good news?"
"May not look like it, but they have money."
"No, doesn't look like it."
"And ? he had a crush on me."
Willy said nothing. He threw the bags down next to a mattress in one corner.
"I'll get a blanket from the car later on."
"Let me have a beer, too."
Willy handed her a can, as she lit a cigarette to give him.
"Careful with that."
"So ? when do we meet our landlord?"
"Later, after dark."
"Did you find him on Facebook?"
"Yeah."
"Did he answer?"
Jesse bit her lip.
"Give it time."
Willy let himself down on the mattress.
"Right now I don't care."
"Yeah, this is shit, but it's free."
"Has he got a dog?"
"No, he can't be near animals."
"Family?"
"They're all dead."
"He's weird, huh?"
"Weird weird."
"What kind of weird is that?"
"Shy weird."
"Can't look you in the eye."
"He never done looked no one in the eye, ever."
"My kind of idiot."
Jesse giggled and snuggled against his chest. Using the bags as pillows, they sat propped up, drinking and smoking slowly.
After a long time, when Jesse was just about to fall asleep, Willy added for good measure:
"Can we tie him up and make him do things?"
"Willy!"
"I can't stand his guts ? already."
Chapter 2
With my rusty shovel, I pat down the earth. Done. A raggedy line of red-golden orange burns on the horizon, and I know I must hurry. I have been pushing myself all night. I can do this, I think. I have come so far.
I look down at the grave. It is square and large, not the traditional rectangular, lengthy shape. I am happier that way. And hell, I had to put them somewhere. I also disregard the assumption a grave has to be just for one. They need to be together sometimes, especially if they liked being together in life ? I am mindful of such matters.
I lean on the shovel, hands folded on the handle. I stare into the dawn of a new day. (No one cares.) I care. I cared for her. Deeply. But she didn't love me. Maybe she couldn't, she was in so much pain. I could not keep her in the cellar with me indefinitely. I am sorry. I am sorry, Ma.
Willy woke up first; something or someone was scratching the toolshed door from the outside, desperate to get in. Willy had problems focusing, he was still too drunk and too tired to react. Must be a cat or a dog, he thought. A wicked voice in his head said, it's not cat or dog, it's much worse.
A bear? Wolf? Raccoon?
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Jesse was snoring softly in a corner. Hell, she deserves better than this, Willy thought. No more money. Not even a motel room.
"Sh ?" he hissed.
The animal outside stopped scratching, as if listening.
Willy repeated:
"Sh-sh-sh ?"
After another pause, the furious scratching resumed. Willy grabbed a shoe and threw it at the door. Again, the scratching stopped.
"What?" asked Jesse, sleep drunk.
"A critter. Lives here."
"A ? what?"
"Tom will be here shortly with a gun."
"Bullshit. Asshole. Leave me alone."
The scratching continued. It sounded methodical and - determined. Will thought, the paws the claws belonged to would soon be through the wood.
Jesse sat up now, too. A fierce light shone in through the only window from the side of the barn.
"What are they doing out there, slaughtering the cows?"
"I have no idea."
"I could use a shower."
"I could use some whiskey."
"Both."
"Get your ass up and get in the house."
"And the bear?"
"What bear?"
"Will, from the sounds of it, it's a bear?"
"Fuck."
Willy shook his head and laughed. He tried to stand, but faltered. Jesse shoved him up. Once on his feet, he considered his options. He found a rusty ax covered with cobwebs and went charging for the door. He thundered the butt end of the ax on it. Wood splintered. Then he kicked the door open. A dog went scampering back in the direction of the house. It was a large black Labrador, notwithstanding its gauntness and bruises.
"Sucker! Don't you come back."
He turned to look at Jesse and added:
"Your turn."
"I'm going," she said.
She was brushing her hair. Against the light, she smoothed her skin with her hand. When she reached for lipstick, Willy grunted.
"I said I'm going."
"Go."
She got up and left. Willy watched her walk unsteadily to the kitchen door at the back of the house. She tried the knob and opened it, not before staring in the direction of the bright lights coming from the barn. She shielded her eyes with her hand. Then she looked back at Willy.
"It's not the barn. They're doing something back there."
He nodded, and motioned for her to hurry.
She disappeared into the house, which was completely dark, except for the occasional whisper and the occasional quivering shadow all too typical in old abandoned Victorian houses.
Chapter 3
Her battery was low, and Jesse knew she would have to switch off her cell phone flashlight very soon. Not yet, not yet, an internal voice pleaded with her. She walked into intricate cobwebs, her face full of their sticky goo, while the house was creepy and deserted. Tom might be dead and decomposing somewhere, she thought, disheartened.
The refrigerator was not empty, but the food spoilt and thoroughly disgusting. Plates had not been washed in decades. Tom seemed to be something of a hoarder in the making. There were stacks of cardboard boxes everywhere, as if he had decided to move, and then decided against it.
Jesse needed to turn a light on. But that would be her coming-out moment as a trespasser. She didn't want that. She didn't want to live outside homeless, either. And she had promised Willy, this would be good.
Didn't look too good, he was right. Jesse scowled. What hard-working people could do with a house like this ? She entered a room with a large desk and boarded-up windows. A study? She gathered her inner strength and turned off her phone flashlight and tried to switch on the overhead light. The light stuttered, but then, much to her relief, stayed on.
Jesse was expecting a large moose head on the wall. The room was fairly modern. There was no air in it, though.
Jesse coughed. She heard another cough, somewhere in the house. She coughed a fake cough and listened. Nothing. My imagination, she mused, must be getting the better of me. She shook her head.
She sat down in the swivel chair, which protested loudly with creaking, farting and groaning noises. Jesse maneuvered it around.
"Hey, now I'm the boss!" she yelled, swiveling merrily.
There was a break in the layer of dust on the desk. Just large enough to mark the underside of a laptop.
"Aha," exclaimed Jesse.
"Someone was playing Candy Crush here."
Her surroundings were dismal. It would take weeks of cleaning and renovating to get the old heap of unhappiness shipshape again, if it could be accomplished at all. Jesse knew she was not that type of person. Neither was Willy.
With her finger, she drew flowers and f-words in the dust. Then the light sputtered and went dark.
Chapter 4
My heart is beating wildly as I stand behind the door. She walks past in the hallway, her footsteps barely audible. A human intruder. How dare she! She is familiar. I cannot for the life of me remember who she is.
I fight the urge to lunge at her throat, to strangle her for violating my privacy, for trespassing and wandering around in my house! Who does she think she is? Some paranormal researcher with a pathetic phone? I am boiling inside, red hot with anger. Go away. Go away!
A loud banging noise echoed throughout the quiet, lonely house. Willy was banging on the bannister with his flashlight.
"Jess' girl, are ya up there?"
Jesse leaned forward on the third floor landing and called out to him:
"All's clear. She's empty."
"Food? Money? Booze?"
"Dust bunnies."
"Damn."
"I'm coming."
She flew down three flights of stairs, taking two steps at a time. When she reached him at the bottom, she threw herself into his arms and rewarded him with a long, wet kiss. With her legs wrapped around his waist, he moved her slowly towards a wall. They fumbled with their clothes and kissed some more.
The house, as if offended, moaned, a near-human sound, upsetting Willy and Jesse, whose eyes widened in horrified dismay. Jesse swallowed.
"What was that?"
"A dying dinosaur, I guess," answered Willy, no longer interested in sex.
"Let's just get out of here."
"Yeah, we can do more exploring tomorrow ? by daylight. Sunshine. Whatever."
They hurried out, back through the kitchen door towards the shed. Willy led Jesse to the car, and they were off.
'More exploring tomorrow?' You crazy bitch, you won't live until tomorrow! Mother, how can they do this? The nerve of some people! And I remember now who she is. She was in love with me, once. A long, long time ago. I briefly gave in to her pushy demands.
Chapter 5
Willy quickly regained his confidence when he was behind the wheel of his car and driving. Jesse checked her phone and told him when and where to turn to get to the nearest gas station and diner.
"How much do you have?"
"Seven dollars."
"Not nearly enough. I'm starving."
"We'll need someone to help us out."
Further back, in a dark deserted corner of the parking lot, an elderly couple had just made a stop. They were stretching, drinking coffee from a thermos bottle, folding rumpled jackets neatly. They were chatting amicably through it all. This pissed off Willy. Very much so.
He ran towards them. The startled man had no time to react; Willy hit him on the head with his flashlight. The elderly lady was too paralyzed with fear to respond. Jesse looped a rope around her neck from behind, seating her rudely back into the car. Jesse punched her while the old woman whimpered and begged for mercy.
Willy was dragging the limp old man to the trunk.
"Let's go," he hissed.
Jesse administered a final punch, pushing the now unconscious woman into a lying position, head on the driver's side seat. She covered her with a jacket, so it would look like a fatigued driver napping.
Willy lifted the body of the old man into the trunk, covered him haphazardly with a blanket, looked at him one last time, then slammed the trunk shut. Jesse and Willy rushed towards the diner, shooting furtive glances in all directions to see if they were yet undetected.
The knuckles of Jesse's right hand were throbbing. She would have to be careful about showing them to the waitress.
"We order to go."
"Too bad," Willy said, frowning.
"We went to all that trouble."
"She had ten fucking dollars on her."
"Good old girl. The dude was loaded."
"How much?"
"Four hundred dollars in small bills."
Willy grinned from ear to ear. Jesse's mood lifted.
"Wow. The first good news in days!"
"Oh, yeah?" said a waitress in passing.
"Care to share?"
"None of your beeswax," Willy said and pinched her cheek.
The waitress did not take kindly to his patronizing gesture, but said nothing. She looked at the manager behind the counter and glared. Willy chose to ignore them.
Jesse was immersed in studying the various kinds of pie in the glass counter.
"Hey," she singsonged.
"We'll bring some home for ? Tom."
"We don't need fucking Tom right now."
"Yeah, we do."
"I'd like two slices of cherry, and one slice of cheesecake with whipped cream."
"Coming up."
Willy added:
"Four large cheeseburgers with large fries and all the mayo you have. Plus Coca Cola."
"Have a seat and a cup of coffee on the house while you wait. It'll only be a minute or two."
"Thanks."
Jesse and Willy sat down on the red vinyl seats, obviously not at ease. Jesse felt the patrons were watching her. Willy was sweating profusely.
"Where's the old guy who ordered the grilled ham and cheese?"
"I dunno," said the waitress.
"Go outside and check on them."
"Are you kidding me?"
Chapter 6
I heard a car door slam. They have driven away. I am alone again with my thoughts and the whispers and the noises of this old house. The wind is my only friend.
Will they be back? I doubt it. If so, there will be more work at midn
ight. I have been through this often, and it's not really my fault. It all falls into place, somehow.
I had to get water, I had to get food, and when I came back, she had stopped breathing. No one cared much for her. She was a bossy, cranky old woman. The few who missed her, well, I had to take care of them, too.
"Okay, then," said the manager, wiping the counter and smiling weakly at the waitress.
"I'll go out and check on them as soon as I'm finished with this order."
Jesse squeezed Willy's hand. He gave her a thoughtful look and tucked an idling strand of her hair behind her ear with a tender finger.
"I like it when you're sweet to me, it's really not too often," she said and looked into his eyes.
"We've been through a whole lot together, girl," he said.
"And we've always come out on top."
The waitress scoured their table a little too vigorously.
"Thank you," said Jesse, intimidated.
"Don't mention it, hun. Your burgers will be ready any minute now."
The guy behind the counter was putting the pieces of pie Jesse had ordered on small paper plates, wrapping them carefully and methodically. He wrapped the cheeseburgers and put them in a bag along with the fries.
Willy stood up abruptly and went to get the order and pay.
Jesse moved towards the door. Willy threw the car keys in her direction.
"Get it," he muttered.
She nodded briefly and rushed out the door, breaking into a run. Willy juggled the Coca Cola, the pie and the burgers. The waitress held the door open for him.
Outside, it had started to rain. Willy stared up at the lights and watched the rain cascade down in their bright shine. Jesse maneuvered the car to a stop in front of him. Not a moment too soon; as Willy let himself down into the passenger seat, the waitress came out with an umbrella, searching for the elderly couple. She had been dispatched to go looking for them after all.
As Jesse drove out onto the road, Willy remarked: