Sacred Ground

Chapter 2

“This is a whole lot better’n yesterday.” Drew drummed the side window in rhythm with the beat from the radio.

“You can say that again,” Gabe agreed.

His spirits had been rising ever since they’d awakened to see clear skies from the windows of the Richmond motel where they’d decided to stay when, instead of the rain stopping as Gabe had prophesied, it had increased right up through the early dark. After breakfast they’d gone through Virginia and were now in South Carolina.

The total mileage from New York to Swinton was around seven hundred miles and Gabe could have made it in one long drive. Friends of his had boasted of driving more than that, stopping only for brief naps by the roadside. That wasn’t his style. He wanted to see where he was going and what the land was like. South Carolina was certainly different from any place he’d seen before.

The sun shone through huge trees whose branches arched over long approaches to houses set back on lots, and it shone as well through tall, straight trees that marked the boundaries of fields.

Some of the fields were already green. Some were still brown.

“What’s that white stuff over there?” Drew pointed to a large field where dry brown plants had balls of white sticking to them.

Gabe slowed the car. “That’s cotton.”

“It grows like that?” Drew looked at him disbelievingly.

“You’ve seen pictures of it in books and on TV, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but—” He turned to look again at the fluffy balls.

“But it’s different when you see it in real life, isn’t it? I wish Pop had told us about his South Carolina people. Those unknown relatives of ours had seen cotton fields. Maybe they’d even gone along those rows picking and filling sacks to be taken to the cotton mills. Or maybe they worked in the tobacco fields. Remember those funny-shaped tobacco barns we saw?”

Gabe hoped Drew was picking up information that he’d remember. For himself, he was ashamed of his own ignorance. If nothing else good came out of this adventure, his New York insularity had been revealed to him. There was much more to be seen and to be appreciated beyond the five boroughs of Manhattan, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens and Staten Island.

They passed small towns where there’d be rural sections where empty houses and other structures had fallen in upon themselves and were covered with vines. He’d read somewhere that the green plant that clambered up trees and smothered them was a parasite called kudzu. It was extremely difficult to get rid of. He noticed there were a number of houses with trees, shrubs and flowers around them, but the houses were standing alone except for a garage and perhaps a shed. He wondered who lived in those dwellings and what their lives were like without other people close by.

The contrast between the South Carolina countryside and what he saw daily in Manhattan was fascinating to him.

Signs told him he was coming up on Florence where he knew he’d have to feed the hungry gas tank. Might as well feed his always-hungry brother, too, before he began complaining. He could leave I-95 here and pick up 20 West, get a glimpse of what Columbia, the capital, was like, then go southwest and make his way to Swinton.

“Are we gonna eat anytime soon?” Drew asked right on schedule.

“We’re stopping in Florence for gas and we’ll eat there.” He filled the tank at the first Shell station he saw then drove away.

“Hey! There’s a McDonald’s right next door,” Drew pointed out.

“I see it. Let’s go someplace a little nicer. Aren’t you tired of fast food?”

Drew shrugged and began looking earnestly on both sides of the street. “I just wanna eat sometime soon,” he grumbled.

They came to a small shopping area that had a homey look with its trees, benches, and turn-of-the-

century lamp fixtures.

“There’s a restaurant next to that bookstore,” Drew said. Gabe turned in and found a parking place. He took his new casual jacket from the backseat and slipped it on. After they visited the men’s room and came out into the nicely decorated dining area, Gabe felt a sense of excitement. This was the final leg of their trip. Their next stop would be Swinton.

Business was brisk, with a stream of people at the buffet counter. Many of the tables were already occupied and there was a buzz of conversation throughout.

“The food looks good,” Drew said as he picked up a tray and silverware. “I’m sure hungry.”

“Get whatever you want.” Gabe was behind Drew and had already decided on the steak and baked potato combination, a green salad and cherry pie. A lady farther down the line was having some problem at the cash register. As Gabe leaned a little forward to see what was happening, his attention was caught by the profile of a young black woman just past the third person beyond Drew.

She turned slightly to look at the vegetable casserole she’d passed and seemed to be making up her mind whether to order it.

Her skin, the color of creamy milk chocolate, was flawless and the contour of her face seemed perfectly designed. He couldn’t see her eyes but a turquoise earring sparkled in the lobe of a delicate ear and matched the jacket she was wearing.

As she shifted her shoulder bag, her left hand came into view. It was bare. I’ve got to see her face, Gabe thought.

The line began to move swiftly as a second cashier was added. Drew and Gabe had to answer questions from the server about their steaks and by the time they’d received their meal, the young lady was nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t see an empty table in this section,” Drew commented, and led the way around a partition into a smaller area where the tables and chairs were bunched together.

Gabe was suddenly struck from behind by a tray and felt something damp landing on the left arm of his new jacket.

“What the—” he began and turned while trying to keep his tray of food upright.

The girl in the turquoise jacket was trying to keep the rest of her food from sliding off her tilted tray while apologizing at the same time.

“I’m so sorry.” Big hazel eyes glanced up at Gabe and a deep flush reddened her face.

“Here, let me clean the potato salad off of your sleeve. Someone bumped me and before I knew it my tray hit you. I’m so sorry.”

She needed her hands free but there wasn’t an empty table nearby. Among the diners watching the fiasco was a woman who took the tray and offered a clutch of napkins.

Gabe wanted to be anyplace but where he was. Everyone was looking at them as the girl bent and wiped at the oily salad, making the spot worse than it had been. Where was Drew? He could at least come and get Gabe’s tray so he could move.

“It’s all right,” he told the girl. “Don’t bother with it.” Gabe didn’t think she even heard him, she was so upset as she kept rubbing.

“Little accident?” Drew said with a broad grin as he came up beside Gabe and took his tray. He rarely had the opportunity to see his big brother lose his cool.

Annoyed at being the center of this kind of attention, Gabe captured the girl’s hands. They were slender, soft and smooth.

“It’s only a cotton jacket and it’ll wash out,” he said firmly, letting go of her hands and taking a step away.

Gabe saw she was nearly as tall as he when she straightened up to discard the damp napkins. The profile he’d seen of her at the counter hadn’t prepared him for the interesting tilt of her eyes, the generous shape of her mouth, the nose that fit perfectly with her other features and above all, a sense of strength and determination. No wonder it had been so hard to make her stop her cleaning job.

“I’ll be glad to have the jacket cleaned,” she said. Her voice was businesslike as she met his eyes but her face still had a rosy flush.

“That isn’t necessary, but thanks.” Wanting to put an end to the already overlong scene, Gabe turned away and walked over to the table where Drew was waiting.

“Eat your food so we can get out of here,” he growled as Drew welcomed him with a smirk. “I’m tired of being the afternoon’s entertainment!”

He’d wanted to meet the girl in the turquoise jacket, but did it have to be a disaster?

If this muddle was an indication of things to come in the next three months, he might as well turn the car around and head back to New York.

A few hours later, Gabe was convinced this might be one of the weirdest decisions he’d ever made in his thirty-five years as he slowed his car to a mere crawl, trying to avoid the potholes in the one-lane country road, which was already guilty of layering what used to be his sparkling black Lexus with dust.

The fact that the afternoon sun held a softness that he’d never experienced in New York City in March didn’t make him feel any better, and even though it illuminated spectacular trees, which stood like ancient sentinels, their branches arched over long approaches to houses both stately and modest, his earlier enjoyment waned each time his tire hit another pothole.

When he’d seen the detour sign a few miles back, he’d had no idea it meant going from a four-lane highway onto seven miles of dirt road. Surely this couldn’t last much longer. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he saw there was a line of cars behind him. If they were in a hurry it was just too bad. He wasn’t taking a chance on injuring his car by going any faster than the fifteen miles per hour his speedometer was registering. Now he understood why there’d been a hand-printed Drive Carefully warning taped to the metal detour notice.

Up ahead he thought he saw another bright orange sign. He accelerated to twenty miles per hour and sure enough, after a slow and careful turn to avoid another large pothole, he was able to get back on the highway.

When they’d left Florence, Drew had grumbled, “I wish we could’ve stayed on I-95 and gone to Florida. At least it has Disney World. But what’s South Carolina got?”

“Lots of alligators. They used to fascinate you.”

“That’s when I was a little kid.” Drew twisted his mouth in scorn.

“Fort Sumter is outside of Charleston. That’s where the Civil War began.”

“Who cares about history? Anyway, we’re not going to Charleston.” Drew turned away from Gabe and fidgeted around in the passenger seat until he found a comfortable place to put his long frame, and in a few minutes had gone to sleep for the umpteenth time since they had left Manhattan and Gabe had pointed the Lexus south.

Gabe was trying to hold on to the notion of adventure this South Carolina trip might have for him and Drew, when he saw a green sign on the right: Swinton, Next Exit.

His heart beat faster and he touched Drew on the shoulder.

“Wake up, Drew. We’re almost there!”

Drew sat up. “It’s about time,” he grouched, trying to hide his excitement as he rubbed his eyes.

Gabe took the exit smoothly and paused at the light. Seeing nothing on the left except more fields, he turned right when the light changed. Cars passed him on the left while he took in the scattering of gas stations and small businesses interspersed with modest frame houses that hadn’t yet been overtaken by the town as it expanded toward the highway.

“Today is March 4,” Gabe observed. “Look at that sign by the bank. What does it say the temperature is?”

“Fifty-five degrees at 3:00 p.m.”

“You have any idea what the temperature at home is?”

“Yeah. I heard on the radio it’s 30 degrees and cloudy,” Drew said.

Although it wasn’t the intense yellow of a summer sun, the light that fell on the brick library, the two-story town hall, the steeple-white Baptist church and the residences that began to appear had a pleasant glow.

“I like this better,” Gabe said. Cold weather had to be endured if you were living in Manhattan but he’d always looked forward to its departure.

“Where do people down here swim?” Drew turned to look at a group of several brick buildings that, according to the sign, comprised Swinton High School.

“The high school might have its own pool and there’s probably one in the park. I saw some lakes on the map, and of course you know we’re not that far from the Atlantic Ocean.” Gabe glanced at Drew to see his reaction.

“How far?” Drew’s expression didn’t change but Gabe heard the interest in his voice.

“I don’t know exactly, but you can look it up on the map when we get to the house,” he said casually.

After a few more blocks Gabe made a right turn. This was undoubtedly Swinton’s shopping center, with clothing, furniture and other stores, as well as a movie house and several restaurants on both sides of the street.

A blue sign with an H in the middle of it indicated that Swinton had a hospital.

A left turn put Gabe on Grayson Road, where he crossed the railroad tracks. The character of the area changed. The houses were farther apart, accommodating sizable gardens and fruit trees. Chickens roamed some yards and four horses looked up from a field as the car went by.

“Aren’t we looking for an address on Grayson Road?” Drew asked.

“Yep. Moultrie said it was 305 North Grayson Road.”

“That means it’s in the country where they’ve got horses and cows,” Drew wailed.

Gabe looked at the speedometer. “I doubt it’s country in the way you mean it.”

The road sloped down around a bend and over a bridge shaded by limbs of tall trees, which grew on both sides. Up a little hill and the houses began again, some small, some large, with neatly trimmed lawns. Gabe stopped as a yellow school bus slowed to a stop and the door opened to let out a string of elementary-age students.

At the light, the bus turned the corner and after another block or two, a church, a barbershop, a hardware store and a variety of other small business establishments filled the streets. As he passed each corner Gabe looked to the right and left, noting that the area was larger than it first appeared.

The people going in and out of the stores were nearly all black, as were the drivers that passed him and lifted a finger in greeting.

At the third light, Grayson Road branched right and became North Grayson Road.

“We must be almost there,” Drew said. “It should be in the third block.”

On the corner of the first block was the Grayson Community Church, an impressive brick building with a smaller structure at the rear. More houses clustered together in the first two blocks. In the middle of the third block Gabe stopped the car at the curb.

He got out and walked around to where Drew was already standing. Awestruck, they stood together looking at 305 North Grayson Road, their home for the next three months.

Chapter 3

An imposing house occupied the center of the block. Five wide steps led up to the deep porch with its four stately columns. Two large windows on either side of a substantial-looking front door were matched by four smaller ones on the second floor.

The house gleamed dazzling white in the late-afternoon sun and its glistening black shutters completed a picture that caught at Gabe’s imagination. It had never occurred to him that his great-grandfather’s house would be so grand.

He wondered who cared for the lawn, the shapely shrubs and the flower beds. The two-car garage was on the left of the house and painted the same white with black shutters on its two small windows.

Stunning as the house was, Gabe saw that it was just the beginning of the property. Surrounding the lot on which the house stood were acres of trees. The growth was thick and the trees looked tall and healthy. Gabe had no idea how many acres he was looking at but the entire property in its prime condition spelled money.

“All this is yours?” Drew asked in disbelief.

“Seems unreal, doesn’t it?” Gabe just looked, trying to take it all in. “But that’s what we’re here to check out.” He felt as bewildered as his brother.

They walked up the five steps and across the shiny porch to the door. Gabe selected the new key on his key ring and hoped it would work. What an irony it would be if after two days of driving he wouldn’t be able to get in the house. The key grated at first but on the second try the door swung wide.

He pushed open the screen and stepped into a dark hall. Automatically he felt on the wall to his right and snapped on a switch. Light poured down from a chandelier, revealing a wide hall with hardwood flooring, a winding staircase and a room opening off each side. There were also small tables and a closet.

Drew went around Gabe to explore the room on the right. “Look, Gabe, he had one of those old-fashioned sofas like Grandma had.”

“They were very popular in Grandma’s day. It was a sign of class if you could afford one. You see how long they lasted.” There were several chairs that complemented the sofa, as well as tables with heavily shaded lamps.

“Looks like something from a museum, not a room you’d be comfortable in,” Drew commented.

“This was the parlor and it was only used for formal visiting. It’s not like our family room. Let’s see what’s across the hall.”

“This is more like it.” Drew zoomed in on the television that had its own corner, picked up the remote control and pushed the power button. The screen lit up and Drew scanned all the channels. “He’s got cable. Cool,” he said.

The room was a combination of old, heavy chairs, a massive bookcase, a contemporary love seat, floral draperies that let in the light when pulled and an oriental rug in the middle of the floor.

The item Gabe liked best was the fireplace. He could imagine how cozy the room would be in the winter with the drapes closed and a warm fire lighting up the place while you looked at some show on TV or read a book or had a conversation with friends while music played in the background. He looked around again. Was there a radio or CD player? If not, he and Drew could get one.

Opening off from the living room was a dining room with a table and chairs for eight, a china closet and a matching sideboard.

“This looks almost like the china closet we have only it’s bigger.” Drew traced the wood framing the door and Gabe knew he was thinking of their mother and how much she had treasured the dishes given to her from her family. She’d said once or twice that someday those pieces would belong to Gabe’s wife or Drew’s wife. She was keeping them for her daughters-in-law.

Gabe moved over to stand next to Drew. “Our great-grandmother probably has some china in here that was passed down to her. Just like Ma.”

The dining room led into the kitchen, which had a wide window over the sink. Gabe pulled the shade up to reveal a large room painted a soft yellow. It held an electric stove, a large refrigerator, a dishwasher, a kitchen table with four chairs and a small TV on a bar.

A stall shower and toilet had been put in at the end of the hall near the back door. The washer and dryer were nudged into a corner separated by a partial wall from the bath facilities.

“All the bedrooms must be upstairs,” Drew said. “Looks like they put one down here just for convenience.”

“When Great-Grandfather built this house it was thought proper to put bedrooms on the second floor if you could afford a two-story house. The downstairs was public but the upstairs was private. Just for the family.” Gabe counted the steps as they went up. “It’s only sixteen steps. That won’t bother you.”

“’Course not,” Drew shrugged. “I’m just sayin’.”

Of the four bedrooms they saw, one had been turned into an office. There were files, maps, crowded bookshelves, a desk and a chair or two. All the rooms had clothes closets, dressers, big double beds, tables with lamps and knickknacks. The large bathroom had a long tub with claw feet.

Everything was of good quality and Gabe was impressed, yet always in the back of his mind he heard Jasper Moultrie say that he was to examine each room of the house closely. Otherwise he’d never find what Ezekiel Bell had left for him to discover.

When they explored the backyard they found a paved area which led to a neat shed that Gabe surmised held the lawn furniture.

A garden plot ran half the length of the garage.

“What’s all that stuff?” Drew looked at a few shoots pushing through the soil.

“Maybe you can find out and tell me,” Gabe said, “but I’m impressed. Maybe Great-Grandfather had someone take care of it, because what could a man who’d been one hundred when he died a few weeks ago do with a spade and a hoe?”

By unspoken consent they walked beyond the garden to where a wire fence closed in the rest of the land. The heavy six-foot fence was topped with barbed wire.

“He lived in this little old town almost in the country so what’s with all this barbed wire? I don’t get it. I think he must’ve been crazy. What’s in there other than those trees?”

The expression of bewilderment on Drew’s face was so much like their mother’s when something hadn’t made sense to her that Gabe had to swallow several times and question himself once more if he’d done the wise thing or if he’d been a little crazy, too, like Ezekiel, at whose command he now stood here with Drew.

There was a gate wide enough for a tractor or a truck to drive through. Gabe searched among his keys and found one that fit.

“Let’s go in and see if there’s anything other than grass and shrubs inside,” he said as he unlocked the gate and pushed it wide. There was nothing but grass, low shrubs edging the space and wildflowers. Drew went one way and Gabe went the other but it was the same all over with slight depressions here and there. They covered the space then met and sat down on a rough wooden bench that stood on the right side of the cleared plot.

Birdsong and soft breezes blowing through the woods were the only sound in the late-afternoon air. Yet there was no sense of isolation. In fact, Gabe glanced around once or twice, so strongly did he feel the presence of someone.

Probably it was Great-Grandfather, who’d surely sat on the bench many times contemplating his land.

“It’s like he had his own private park,” Drew said, eerily echoing Gabe’s feelings.

How could she have been so clumsy? Makima Gray was disgusted with herself. Mama used to say to let Makima do it because she didn’t drop things or stumble or spill food even when she was a little girl. All her life she’d been naturally agile and careful.

She didn’t know how to explain what had happened. In the restaurant, she’d glimpsed at the tall man in the black jacket behind her in the line. He’d been talking to the teenage boy in front of him. He’d also been staring at her.

The small area she usually sat in had been crowded and thoughtlessly she’d turned to its opposite side when disaster struck. Her long shoulder bag had hit against a chair, upsetting her balance, and the young girl behind her had knocked her elbow with a muttered “Sorry,” as she went by.

One dish slid off the tray before she could catch it. Feeling like an idiot, she’d looked up to apologize and met the startled glance of the tall man whose black jacket was now decorated with her potato salad.

Thoroughly humiliated, she heard herself babbling on and on as she wiped at the salad with napkins a lady handed her.

The man had stood, tense and silent, until someone relieved him of the tray he was still holding.

He grabbed her hands to stop her dabbing at the stain, refused her offer to clean the jacket and stalked away.

Every time she thought of the incident she mentally kicked herself, again. Thank goodness it had happened in Florence, not here where everyone knew everyone else. Otherwise she’d never live it down.

It was time to get on with her work and put her personal misadventure behind her. As it was, she’d lost her appetite for what was left of her meal and had left the restaurant immediately. She didn’t want to run into him in the parking lot. He was probably on his way to Florida and she’d never see him again.