The Line

It was exactly what Jilo had hoped for when she’d mentioned Grace to me. “Tell me what happened,” I said, hoping against hope that I would find some extenuating circumstance that would allow me to pardon Oliver.

“You already know. Grace wasn’t lying,” he said.

“But you tell me. You tell me anyway.”

He moved away from the barrel and sat down next to me. He leaned back on his elbows as sweat beaded up and slid down his bare chest. “Grace said Adam and I were sick. Men weren’t supposed to be doing the things we did. Men shouldn’t love each other. She wanted Adam, and she figured she could fix whatever was broken in him.”

“Did she have Mother Jilo charm him?” I asked.

“There was no need. Adam and I had been together for over a year. He had grown a little bored with me by then anyway, I guess. He liked Grace’s attention; he was flattered by it. But mostly he believed the same things she believed. That there was something wrong with us. And when she promised to cure him, he went for it like the fire in that barrel is going after the wood. Problem is, it didn’t work.” He looked up at the blue sky and watched a large cumulus cloud move closer. “He came back after a few months, going on about how much he loved me, how much he missed me. He swore to me, swore to me, that we would be together somehow. And then a few days later he up and disappeared.

“I went to his house, but his mother told me to go away. Grace was pregnant, and she and Adam were going to get married. Her son didn’t have time for any more of our ‘little games.’ He was grown up, and he was going to be a man now. It was time for me to do the same. She slammed the door in my face, and then I saw the curtain in Adam’s window move. I knew he was there. I should have been angry. I should have walked away, but I was…”

“Heartbroken,” I said when he wasn’t able to find the word.

“No, darker than that. I was heartbroken, but my conscience was broken too. I sat down on their steps, and the darkness grew inside of me. I couldn’t move, and I felt like I was growing heavier and denser with each breath. After a few minutes, Adam’s grandfather Henry came out and sat next to me.” Oliver swiveled to look at me again. “Henry was the most decent man who ever walked this earth. He put his arm around me and told me that I needed to be tougher for my own good, but that I was going to get through it. And then he pulled me close and told me that his grandson was a fool not to love me like I deserved to be loved.”

“I met Henry once; he’s a good guy,” I said.

“But Henry died right after you were born.” Oliver started to shake his head, but then he sighed. “Savannah.”

It hadn’t occurred to me that Henry was a spirit. He had held onto me, driven a car for me. Jilo must have lent some mojo to his apparition to make it capable of the physical feats he had performed. I should have been shocked, but it was getting hard to surprise me anymore. “Savannah,” I responded.

“Things would probably have worked out,” Oliver continued. “Sure, Adam would have married Grace, but I doubt it would have lasted. Probably in a year or two, he would have decided to move on from Grace as easily as he had moved on from me, proud of the fact that at least once, he’d managed to get his dick hard enough for a girl to plant a baby in her.” Anger simmered very close to the surface. “That kid would have been his cover for life.”

“Is that why—” I started to ask.

“No.” Oliver stopped me. “Winning wasn’t good enough for Grace. She had to come here to rub my nose in it. We fought, and I told her that the only reason Adam was marrying her was because she was knocked up. She said that Adam wanted a normal life, not a perverted one. I snapped and told her that if she was so sure of that, she should abort the baby and see if Adam was still interested in a wedding. I compelled her to have that abortion.”

“You were angry.” I found myself rationalizing for him. “They were just words.”

“So it wasn’t premeditated. It was still murder. I knew what I was doing. I didn’t care. Maybe the baby would have been more real to me if she had been showing. Maybe…” He paused. He’d obviously traveled this road many times. “She wasn’t a woman who decided what was right for her own body, Mercy. I decided for her, and there is no way to redeem what I did.”

“No,” I said. “I reckon there isn’t. But I don’t believe you truly intended for her to do what she did. I don’t believe you meant to compel her. I think you were grieving and angry. Maybe it was manslaughter, but I don’t believe it was intentional. You are not a murderer.” I stood and walked over to the fire barrel, where the wood was turning to ash. I tossed in a couple of extra pieces of the table.

“And I wonder if you’re too willing to turn a blind eye to the faults of those you love,” Oliver said.

“Come on and help me,” I said. “This is burning out.” He stood and dusted off his shorts. I bent down to grab another chunk of wood, and my hand touched a piece that was much smaller than rest—a splinter about the size of my palm. It was stained deep garnet with my uncle’s blood, like it had absorbed more than the rest. I picked it up and glanced at Oliver, who had turned and was reaching for one of the table’s legs. Without consciously understanding why, I slid the piece into my pocket and then returned to feeding the fire.

“Did Grace kill Ginny?” I asked after he poked the table leg into the fire. Sparks flew up and the heat of the fire combined with the heat of the day forced us a few feet away from the barrel.

“No. When Iris put her hand on Ginny’s body, she opened a door to the other side, and Grace stepped right in. She was just biding her time until she could break through.”

“Maybe Jilo killed Ginny to trick Iris into opening the door?” I asked, wondering if I had been duped into helping that happen.

“No one knew about my part in Grace’s suicide besides Jilo and Ginny,” Oliver replied. “Jilo used her granddaughter’s death as a negotiating tool. They made a pact, Ginny and Jilo. Jilo wouldn’t try to seek revenge if I agreed to move away from Savannah. That’s the reason I only come home a few weeks each year, and why I had to miss out on most of your childhood. The pact only allows me four weeks a year in Savannah. But getting rid of me was just icing on the cake.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jilo got her hands on a big chunk of power. I don’t know the mechanics of how it was done, but Ginny charged up a piece of quartz for her. About the size of my fist,” he said, holding up his hand to demonstrate. “It glowed bright enough to light a football field. I swear. I couldn’t even bear to look at it. Ginny told her to bury it where it couldn’t be found, and to use it carefully. I bet that rock has been powering her tricks for over twenty years now.” He grabbed another leg of the table and added it to the crackling pyre. “No, Jilo cares more for power than she ever did for Grace. She’s fat and happy, and she’d never do anything to risk the comfortable little setup she has around here.”

“So you don’t think she had anything to do with Ginny’s death?” I asked.

“No. I wondered at first, when her grandson Martell was spotted with the murder weapon, but the more I think about it, the more my gut tells me no.” He shook his head at me. “Nothing more concrete than that, just my intuition.”