When Darkness Loves Us

As he turned onto the main highway, his thoughts automatically went to Sally Ann. His first trip to market was one week after she had left, and she was the topic of conversation all the way in and all the way home with his father-in-law. He never seemed to be able to drive this way without trying to figure out why she had left, or where she had gone. It was so long ago, but still the mystery remained. He couldn’t bear to consider that she had been killed, or kidnapped. He preferred, no matter how much it hurt, to think she had left him and was living a happy and comfortable life.

Oh, Sally Ann, how I loved you. I hope you are well. With that, he turned his thoughts to the load of beef on the back of his truck.

Maggie watched the truck disappear down the highway and returned to the kitchen where tubs of plump blueberries were to capture her attention for the rest of the day. She got the recipe file from the shelf and pulled cards for jam, jelly, and Michael’s favorite compote. She called to Justin to get out of bed and help her bring in the cases of jars from the barn, then rousted the twins to wash their hands, then wash the blueberries. Time they learned how to get their hands all purple, too.

She was holding the door for Justin as he brought in the last case of jars when the phone rang.

“Maggie?”

“Hello, Momma.”

“Maggie, has Michael left for market yet?”

“About a half hour ago, why?”

“Well, there’s a noise going on over here that’s starting to concern me and I was hoping I could catch him before he left. I’d like to find out what’s wrong. I sure hope it isn’t the water heater again, but I’m afraid it is, and it’s been going on for a couple of days now.”

“Justin and I can come over before we start the blueberries, Momma.”

“No . . . I hate to bother you.”

“No bother, Momma. We’ll be right over.”

Maggie hung up and wished she hadn’t volunteered. Most likely it wasn’t anything they could do anything about anyway, but it might set her mother’s mind at ease.

“C’mon, Justin. We’re going over to Grandma’s for a few minutes.” The girls squealed with delight. “You two keep washing those blueberries. We won’t be gone but a couple of minutes.” They returned to their task with sullen faces.

Cora met them in the drive, and the three went behind the house to the water-heater shed.

“Now listen.”

A faint tapping broke the stillness, erratic but high-pitched, metal on metal.

“The sound’s comin’ from over there,” Justin said. They all turned to where he pointed, and saw nothing but the neighboring field and the old well cover that stuck up about two feet from the ground. Justin walked toward the well cover, but the sound had stopped.

“It was louder yesterday,” Cora said. “I just can’t for the life of me figure what it might be.”

Justin stopped in front of the old well. “What’s this, Grandma?”

“Just an old well, Justin. It went dry years ago and your Grandpa put that cover on it to keep you young’uns from falling in and killing yourselves. There isn’t anything down there.”

He walked over to it and knocked on the domed iron lid. It rang solid. A moment later, the tapping began, furiously.

“It is coming from here! Listen!” They all heard it.

Justin examined the bolts that held the lid on. “I’m going to get the crowbar and get this lid off here, Momma. There’s something in there that wants out.”

The two women looked at each other.

An hour later, the last bolt broke. Cora stepped back out of the way while Maggie went to help her son slide the heavy lid off the well. A putrid odor assaulted them as the top grated open. They stopped, caught their breaths, and gave a final heave, and the lid slid off the opening and one edge fell to the ground.

“Good God!” Justin’s hand covered his mouth. Maggie screamed and backed away. A moan escaped Sally Ann’s black and swollen lips as she tried to shield her blind, jerking eyes with a forearm that had lost its muscular control. “Momma, help me!” Justin shouted. Maggie shook her head, eyes riveted on the apparition from the well, and backed farther away. “Grandma?” Cora moved in quickly and, fighting the reaction from the terrible smell, grabbed the thin brittle wrist and stilled its flailing about.

“Grab her ankles, Justin, and we’ll ease her out of there.” Sally Ann had wedged herself into a niche four inches high by three inches deep, between the cover and the top lip of the well. Working carefully, pulling gently, one leg at a time, the hips, then the shoulders were eased out. They set her down on the grass and Cora sent Justin for a bucket of cool water.