Amateur Hour

Janice

Janice’s mood lightened, when she caught sight of Liam, in the lounge, though he was so hard at his laptop that he didn’t notice her, when she entered the room. It wasn’t until her microwave signaled that it was done heating her tea, that he glanced up, face brightening at the sight of her.

“Hello, lover,” she murmured, sitting next to him.

“My lovely lady,” he smiled. “How goes your morning?”

“I’ll tell you, on the way home.”

“That good, huh?”

“It’s okay, just a little perplexing. You’re busy, with something,” she nodded toward his computer.

“Following up on a rumor that turns out to be true, at least in part. Babe — did you know that this place has its very own cemetery?”

“No, and I could have gone all day and the rest of my life, without finding that out.”

“Come on, Jan. It’s just history. I’ve found out a little bit about it, online. There was a family home here, once —”

“Oh, boy. This sounds familiar.”

“It’s long gone,” he waved it away, with amused impatience. “No tragedy. The land was sold, and the house torn down to make way for a girl’s finishing school, in 1880. The cemetery was originally a family burial plot.”

“Originally? Meaning that it was still in use, for the school.” The more she heard, the less she liked it.

“Of course. Look where it’s located, Jan. These grounds are a haven for mosquitoes. It’s inevitable that students would have sickened and died here, once in a while. It wouldn’t have been practical, to send some of them long distances, to be laid to rest. I’m dying to have a look at it.”

“Nice choice of words.”

“You know what I mean.” He flushed, both shamed and annoyed. “I’d like to check it out, after work.”

“Count me out. It’s too miserable.”

“Since when? You liked Lisa’s cemetery.”

“Lisa’s cemetery isn’t filled with helpless children, who died while isolated from their families, in the middle of nowhere,” she retorted in a tone that even she heard as waspish.

Liam drew back a little, and Janice sighed.

“I understand your wanting to see it. You’re on your way to becoming a bona fide historian, I guess. Have your look, and I’ll wait for you here, or in my office,” she proposed.

“It won’t take long. I’m sure it’s very small.”

“Stay away from the river. I’ve heard rumors, too— it’s supposedly Alligator Central, down there.”

“I will. I’m a little crazy, but I’m not stupid,” he smiled.

*******

In the end, Liam was grateful that Janice had stayed behind, in her office. She would have been horrified by the sight that met his eyes, when he came off the footpath that led through a stand of water oak toward the Apalachicola.

He had expected to see a small burial ground, with a separated section for the original family plot, maybe. That was there, and it was somewhat larger than he had thought it would be, segregated by a leaning, black, wrought iron fence, with hostile, pointed stakes. It occupied a rear corner of the cleared space. Between it and Liam was a full acre of varied markers.

Taking in the sight, as a whole, Liam was stunned by its size. He didn’t know whether to examine the family plot, first, or the student graves, the earliest of which were farthest away from him. They, and the family plot seemed precariously close to the river.

He decided to begin his exploration at that end, with the private plot, and work his way back toward the school. His initial assumption had been wrong, he found, as he drew nearer. From a distance, and due to the play of light and shadow, he hadn’t been able to make out the details of the burials. The remains of the original owners hadn’t been buried in the ground, at all, but in vaults meant for single to triple occupancy, and he hadn’t seen the mausoleum, which had been blocked by trees, and invisible from where he had come out, on the path.

With little difficulty, Liam found a break in the fence, where the gate had been, and entered the plot.

This family had had money, and a lot of it. The mausoleum, and even the smaller tombs had been constructed of marble. The family name had been Eldridge, as evidenced by the name on the greater mausoleum and some of the other markers. Liam smiled, a little. It was good to have a name to research.

The plot wasn’t in the best of shape. Years of neglect had taken their toll on the vaults, which had become chipped, cracked, stained by weather, and in some cases, buried under large fallen tree limbs — a testament to storms come and gone. He found himself paying more attention to the ground, as he walked, to avoid tripping on this debris.

From time to time, he paused, to snap a picture, on his phone. Janice might not have cared to be there, in person, but he was sure she would find the vaults and the mausoleum interesting.

Compared to the consistency and order of the family plot, notwithstanding the neglect and damage, the student burial site looked like evidence of carnage. These were all in-ground burials, supposedly at a safe distance from the river — or had the possibility of flooding had been disregarded?

Some of the graves were delineated by nothing more than cairns of local stone, at the head, which had toppled, over the years. A few had upright posts that had probably been crude wooden crosses, at one time, with the occasional name carved upon them; “Lizzy,” read one; another, “Naomi”.

Wandering among the later, more coherent markers, Liam found a “Jane”, who had been “taken by the river”. This gave him pause; he hadn’t thought about drownings being a likely cause of death, though that should have been obvious. He wondered if Jane was actually in this place, or if this was just a marker to commemorate her death. Some weeks later, in 1889, her classmate, Mary Elizabeth, had succumbed to “the fever”, as had several others. If Liam’s memory served, that might have been yellow fever.

Some of the more recent markers were ornate, and made of finer material; marble and granite, for the most part. Liam supposed that they had been provided by the families of the deceased.

Around 1920, the school had begun to admit boys, and Liam found the grave of Vincent Bronson, who had been the first male student, buried here. He had died at the age of 13, in 1922, of “influenza”.

As Liam read the names on the markers, he began to notice a pattern. Even in death, boys had been separated from girls, by rows, which made for some irritation to his sense of order, as it sometimes jumbled dates– thus time periods.

He had never embraced chaos. That was more of a Jan thing, or a Lisa thing. He preferred order and a system. Segregation by sex was, in his opinion, the opposite of a system, because it was arbitrary. No doubt, Janice would have a field day, if he expressed this hangup, to her.

He collected more pictures, until he started to lose the light, then headed back toward the main building.

***

Janice

Janice settled down at her desk with a fresh cup of tea and the inevitable protein bar. She was just about to pull out her latest comical romance novel, when the phone rang.

“Well, hi, Nina,” she answered it, with pleasure.

“Hi, Janice,” was the shy reply. “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all — the workday is over, but Liam’s on a historical quest,” she chuckled. “I’m just waiting for him to collect me, to head home. I really need my own car,” she added, with a sigh.
“You really do,” Nina agreed. “Mine’s a beater, but it gets the job done. I’m kind of surprised you don’t have one.”

“My last one had one foot in the grave, and another on a banana peel, so we sold it, before we moved.”

“Does Liam not want you to buy another, or…”

“Nothing like that, no. I suppose we just haven’t gotten around to shopping for one.”

“Oh, good. I mean, it’s good that he doesn’t want to be the only driver, not that…” she trailed off, sounding flustered.

“It’s okay,” Janice laughed lightly. “Some men really are insistent, when it comes to driving. My Daddy is like that.”

“Sometimes I open my mouth and stick my foot in, up to the knee.”

“Don’t we all? You’ve seen me, trying to be on my best behavior.”

“No — you’re great, Janice. We enjoyed you and Liam, so much. That’s why I’m calling, actually. Hannah has a thing she does with some of her friends, this weekend. Older ladies; they get together and gossip over coffee, every couple of weeks. I was wondering if you might like to do something; shopping, a movie; just hang out?”

“I’d love that. I don’t know much about the area, or what there is, to do, though.”

“Nothing,” Nina laughed. It was a genuine, cheerful sound. “Sometimes, I drive over to the State Park, and take pictures, for my paintings. When I want to go shopping, just browsing, you know, I go to Marianna. Tallahassee can be fun, but I hate to drive, there — the one way streets mess me up, every time.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve been places like that, where I’ve circled like a buzzard, until I finally hit my target.”

Nina laughed again. “Exactly! Marianna isn’t quite the Big City, but there are some nice little stores, and there’s a movie theater, and a pretty good restaurant, or two.”

“That sounds perfect. When?”

“Saturday morning? Teddy can look after Hannah, until her friends arrive at noon.”

“He doesn’t mind?”

“Not a bit. I’ll pick you up, around nine-thirty?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Great! Bye, Janice.”

“Bye, Nina.”

***

Liam

“I have a date, this weekend,” his wife announced, as Liam fastened his seat belt.

“With whom?” Liam pretended to glower.

“With Nina,” Janice smiled. “She called me, just a little before you got back. You could have knocked me over, with a feather.”

“Don’t know why. She obviously likes you.”

“She’s so shy, though. I’ve been just about ready to call her up.”

“Will you need The Hulk?”

“No. Nina has a car.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled, apologetically.

“Never mind, Sweetie. We’ll get around to it. When we do, it shouldn’t take long—I’m not fussy. As long as it runs, has air conditioning, and looks like it might last, a few years.”

“Same standards you applied to me. Except for the air conditioning.”

“I did take into consideration your likely ability to provide air conditioning,” Janice teased. “You’ve never failed, so, good job.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to be appreciated,” he smiled. “Sorry I made you wait on me, this afternoon.”

“I don’t mind waiting; I just really didn’t want to visit that place, with you. Was it worth it?”

“So worth it, from a strictly historical viewpoint. I got some good pictures, I think.”

“What about from a human viewpoint?” Her face, when he glanced at it, was sober.

“It was sad. Some of the stones had cause of death on them, and they were mostly what you’d expect. Fevers, viruses, and the like. A couple were unexpected — there were two struck by lightning, three drownings, and several that were vague, yet somehow sinister. They’re like messages in bottles. You’d have hated it. But, you might have been fascinated by the vaults and the mausoleum.”

“Why? I’ve seen my share of those. I doubt they’d evoke much nostalgia.”

“You’re not even surprised that any such thing is out there? I got some photos, of those, too, but…”

“Honey, I’ll look. I just don’t share the same amount of interest.”

“No. I can’t expect all of my things to be your things,” Liam admitted, though he was disappointed.

“I meant, I don’t share the same amount of interest in the mausoleum and the vaults, Liam. No, I’m not surprised that they’re out there, for the same reason you’re not surprised by mosquito borne illnesses. Look at the location. I’m interested in the graveyard. It’s just that the whole idea is heartbreaking.”

“Oh.” He felt his disappointment lessen.

“Of course, I am. The school is seriously weird, and I’d love to know how far back the weird goes.”

“That’s a great question. Wish I could answer it.”

“You could tell me what you saw,” Janice suggested. “Or, are you annoyed with me, about the whole family plot thing?”

“I’m not,” he smiled over at her. “And I’m not being inscrutable, either. I genuinely can’t tell you how far back it goes, because beyond the point where boys were integrated into the school, the tale gets murky.” He went on to explain the way the graves had been segregated, and the resulting hash it had made, of dates, as they might relate to major events.

“In the girls’ section, when it was strictly a girls’ school, you can visualize the scale of an epidemic, say, because the victims are all there, in one place. But, when you break students up, by sex, you lose that context.”

“I see. That must have made you want to tear your hair out,” she grinned.

“It did. I can’t believe, myself, that I find it so exasperating, but I do.”

“It’s an unnecessary random element,” she replied, without hesitation. “It’s like adding a coat of grease to an Olympic floor mat, and expecting the gymnast to be fine with it. Naturally, your mind rebels against it. It isn’t just the difficulty, it’s also the fact that it’s not necessary, and frankly, stupid.”

“Thank you!” he exclaimed, vindicated. “The only logical way to get an overview, would to take a photo of each grave, and organize the photos, by date.”

Janice didn’t ask why, and he didn’t expect her to. She knew too well what the answer would be: to satisfy his curiosity.

“Isn’t it wonderful, that we don’t have to buy film, these days, and pay for processing?” she joked, instead.

*******

Janice

“I wish I’d thought to check the weather forecast,” Nina remarked, as they cruised down US-90, in the pouring rain that had come up when they were halfway to Marianna.

“Does driving in the rain make you nervous?” Janice asked. “I hate it, myself.”

“Not as nervous as riding, in the rain. Teddy drives too fast, when it’s raining, to suit me. I ride my imaginary brake, most of the time,” she smiled. “I don’t mind the driving, but it doesn’t look good for wandering around, shopping, does it?”

“Maybe it’s a passing squall. The shopping is just an excuse to hang out, anyway. What do you usually do, when Hannah is visiting, with her friends?”

“It’s not that I’m not welcome, to join them. Sometimes, I do. Other times, I paint, read a book, watch TV.”

“What do you like to read?”

“Junk, mostly. Trashy romances are high, on my list. Mysteries, sometimes. I draw the line, at horror. I picture that stuff too well, in my mind, you know?”

“I imagine you do,” Janice chuckled.

“Teddy says I have no taste, of course. I’ll bet you read classical literature.”

“Only if the story is good. If I get bored, I drop it. Life is too short to read classics, just because they’re classics. Does Ted really say that?”

“He’s joking. The truth is, I can understand what I’m reading, but it doesn’t stay with me. Teddy can quote whole paragraphs, from his favorites. I’m doing well, to remember plot lines, a week after I read something. So, I stick to romances. It doesn’t matter, if I forget those.”

“I like them, too. They’re a good escape.”

“You must need it, at the end of the day. I don’t know how you, Liam, and Teddy can work at that school. It’s no kinder to the teachers than it is to the students. Teddy puzzles me the most, though. You’d think he’d be done with that place.”

“Five years is a long time, but maybe he’s used to it.”

“Five years, as a teacher, plus three, as a student.”

Janice was so gob-smacked, she couldn’t say anything, for a full fifteen seconds. The pause was long enough to make Nina turn her head, to look at her.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, returning her eyes to the road.

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay — I won’t repeat it. It might explain why he doesn’t want to quit, though. I’m sure he hopes to make things better, for the kids, in his own way.”

“That’s what he says. But, I think it’s more. It weighs on him too much, to be only that. I don’t know how to explain it. He’s a very gentle hearted man. Some nights he’s so angry, when he gets home, I don’t recognize him.”

“He’s not violent, I hope,” Janice frowned.

“He might throw some things around, if he didn’t have his weights and his heavy bag, to pummel. I leave him alone, when he’s working out.” Nina shrugged.

“Are you afraid of him?”

“What? No!” she laughed. “If he could, he’d wrap me in silk and put me in a velvet lined box, in a bank vault. I leave him alone, to let him get it out of his system. The sight of me would shut him down. It’s a joke between us that we both work things out, on canvas—only, his is stuffed.”

Janice nodded, and held her peace.

“Would you like to get some coffee, first?” Nina asked, when they reached the light at the intersection of US-90 and Hwy 71.

“That sounds good.”

Nina continued through the light, and in a few minutes, pulled into the lot of a fast food restaurant. It wasn’t crowded, between the breakfast rush, and lunch. They went in, ordered their coffee, and sat down, in a booth.

The conversation seemed to be dwindling. There were so many things Janice wanted to know, and didn’t want to ask about. She was usually good at making conversation, but it felt wrong to try to wheedle information out of Nina.

“Now, you’re doing it,” Nina said, after her third sip.

“Doing what?”

“What Teddy does — protecting me, with silence. I hate it, when he does that,” she added, with quiet vehemence. “I’m lacking in some ways, but I’m not totally incapable.”

“I don’t think he sees you, that way. He seems to cherish you.”

Nina seemed to think about this, for a moment.

“When I was a little girl,” she said, “I had a nice doll. Every day, I took her off the shelf, changed her into one of her three dresses, and restyled her hair. She was my best doll, and I cherished her – but I didn’t love her. Changing her and doing her hair were just a way of ‘playing’ with her, and showing what appreciation I could, for her. I couldn’t sleep with her, or carry her around with me – she might have gotten broken, or her clothes torn.” Nina unfolded her paper napkin, as she spoke, and then began to shred it slowly, into straight, neat strips.

She paused, to drink some more coffee. “I loved my ugly rag doll,” she smiled, still staring at the napkin she had resumed shredding. “She had yarn for hair that couldn’t really be combed, and her dress had a few little patches that I sewed on, myself. Dropping her didn’t hurt her, though it made me feel bad, for a second or two. I carried her, everywhere, and slept with her.”

She raised her eyes to Janice’s, with an odd little smile. “I still have her.”

Janice, who had been listening raptly, released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I was afraid you were going to tell me that you lost her, in some tragic way.”

“No. She’s a mess, but I still have her,” Nina’s smile faded. “That other, cherished doll, though? I don’t have a clue what happened to her, and I couldn’t care less. I only know that I don’t want to be her.”

“I should have said, ‘love’— not ‘cherish’.”

“But, you didn’t. I don’t blame you, Janice,” she said. “You’d have to be blind, not to see it.”

“Do you think there’s…another doll, somewhere?”

“I used to wonder,” Nina admitted, nodding. “Sometimes, Teddy comes in, very late. I think the latest was around ten. But, he always does come home. He doesn’t smell of some woman’s perfume, or like he’s had a shower to wash it off.” She paused, frowning.

“Occasionally, he’s a bit dirty. Dried muck on his shoes; cobwebs on his jacket, or in his hair. Whatever he’s up to, it isn’t in a budget motel.” She wadded up her shredded napkin, into a tight ball, and set it aside. “Anyway, all of my romance comes from books.”

“All?” Janice dared to ask.

“All. It always has. Teddy married me, for love — I’ll never believe he didn’t. But, he wanted to wait, until I was older, to… Do you think he’s actually waiting for me to catch up?” she demanded suddenly, exasperated, but not without humor.

“At this point, Nina, I know you, better than I know Ted.”

Nina nodded. “I’m not surprised. He doesn’t say much, about himself. And, here I’ve just dumped everything, on you. I’m sorry. How do you manage to say so little, and get people to spill their guts?”

“You really want to know?” Janice smiled, a little.

“I do, yes.”

“It all comes down to this — most people really want to talk. Not all, but most. More people want to talk, than want to listen. I’ve always been a listener, who could fill in the gaps, with talk. When it comes to questions, I keep them short. Sometimes I just find the keyword in what someone is saying to me, and repeat it, as a single word question. It’s simple, and it works.”

“That’s clever. Something you learned, in school?”

“Indirectly. Everyone has a style of speech, and a way they are perceived by other people. If you intend to draw people out, you have to mix and match at first, until you find the approach that works best.”

“Intend?”

“Sometimes I do manipulate,” Janice admitted. “In a professional setting, it can be part of the job. In private settings, I’m not proud of it. Remember when you said I was treating you like your husband — protecting you? I did want to know more, but I didn’t want to coax you into speaking, unless you wanted to. Nice use of the single word repeated as a question, by the way,” she added, smiling.

“Looks like it does work,” Nina returned the smile. She looked out the window, while she her coffee. “This seems like a good day, for a movie.”

“Sounds like a plan. Do you have any idea what’s playing?”

“No.”

“I’ll check.” Janice opened the browser, on her phone, and found the theater and show-times.

In the end, they agreed on a sequel to an earlier blockbuster, also agreeing not to expect much.