Jason Lee. He had died of the fever when he was two and Olivia was four. She
had no recollection of him at all. The other grave was that of her Uncle Scruggs.
“It’s so sad that Uncle Scruggs is buried all alone here, while his Lydia Ann
lies out there in Michigan. They ought to be together,” she said.
Tobey said nothing. He clapped his arms around himself and Olivia knew it
was his way of saying he was ready to turn around and go home.
“Remember how Uncle Scruggs always liked to show us the deed to his land,
brag about how it was signed by President John Quincy Adams’ own hand?”
Tobey nodded with obvious disinterest. “Where were you planning on getting
green branches to lay on the graves?” he asked.
Olivia ignored the question. “He was so proud of that wooden floor he put in
their cabin, all hand-planed lumber, so smooth you could run your fingers over it
and never know there was a trap door to the cellar.”
“Can we get going?”
“And he built a stone fireplace and chimney –”
“Olivia, can we talk about this at home?”
“I like remembering the way he –”
“I know, I know. It was a magical paradise, wild strawberries as big as your
fist, corn higher than a house, trees taller than the birds fly, and trout that leapt
out of the river into his frying pan. The forest was so green it hurt his eyes to look at it. Oh, I forgot, Lydia Ann had to go out every morning and bang on a
cooking pot to chase the deer away from her laundry tub. Just enough curious bears, sly wolves, and cunning-but-noble Indians to keep life interesting. Can we
please go home now?”
“Wouldn’t you like to go see that land some time?”
“Why would I want to do that? Everyone knows there’s no good farmland out
there in Michigan. And all he built was a little one-room cabin. Chopped down
trees and piled the logs up on each other, bark and all. And it’s been out there rotting for twenty years.”
“Thirteen.”
“There’s probably nothing left standing.”
Olivia turned to face her brother. He was wearing the thick winter coat that made him look like a little boy, his arms sticking out to the sides. He removed
his foggy spectacles to wipe them on his sleeve, but fumbled and dropped them
in the snow. She bit her bottom lip as he bent to retrieve them.
“You’re going to spend your life working in that store, aren’t you?” she asked
with a sigh.
“Seems so.”
Sweet Tobey. He would never fail to disappoint. She looked up at the stars
coming out, feeling small and alone under the endless sky.
“Okay, let’s go.” She slipped her arm through her brother’s and they walked
in silence for a while.
“Are you coming to work in the store tomorrow?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Mourning Free is coming over to fix some things for Mrs. Hardaway and I want to be there. I have to show him exactly what needs to
