In these vast and shaded woodlands where roads perform curved maneuvers; where beauty is compelling enough to enjoy year-round; crispy yellow and discolored leaves, like swans, parade through the placid slow moving waters. In spots, reflections are crystal-like in the sunlights dancing rays. They are slowly and cheerfully choreographed and directed by each passing cloud. As beautiful as it is here, make no mistake about it, there's also danger. Ask anyone who knows about living in the woods, with every kind of animal here you've got to be careful. Bears have been known to attack if cubs are near by, and there are always the threat of snakes and varmints that seem to come from nowhere. The nights can also creep you out if your not use to the noises. On a side note, I once saw a man in the dark of my yard just standing there for a minute watching me before he walked off. That's enough to keep you up all night wondering if you locked the door-- and if that would even matter.

As a youngster I grew up here in this old country home and inherited it from my father. There are three houses within a hundred feet of each other on our road and we're the middle one. Our backyards have fire-pits to chase away invading and bothersome gnats and a path with lots of undergrowth goes through the back above the stream, where flora's fragrant blossoms make their presence known along the way.

Recently, some new amiable neighbors moved into the house to our right and during our first meeting offered my wife and I some tea and friendly chat in their kitchen. Jim and Donna were both retired. Jim was a fire Lieutenant and Donna was a school teacher. They moved in with Donna's elderly mom named Peggy who can only be described as one hell of a funny lady. They had relatives they used to visit in Kansas and always wanted to live in a country setting such as this. Donna finally convinced Jim and when she saw the house up for sale, a Realtor was found and the deal was done. As we sat down they could see a slight reservation in my demeanor, which gave away my hesitancy to elaborate on the history of their home. I decided it would be best to tell them the whole story from the beginning as it seemed only fair to do so. As I began, I could feel a slight stress and yet small tinge of excitement in knowing I was about to tell them a story that reverberated through the core of this small and peaceful town many years before. Well, I paused, looking them in the eye; it goes like this...

When I was eight years old, Christine and her younger sister Emily lived in the house with their parents Luke and Nancy. I got along well with both children. While I played with footballs and toy rifles and cars, they were more engaged in the lives and dramas of their new dolls dressed in white with made up voices supplied by both girls. On occasion it was also not unheard of for a song inexplicably explode from either girl creating a verse of nonsense known only to whoever was singing at the time.

One cool night, with a sky full of bright stars that resembled tiny lamps in the sky overhead, I took my dog Freckles for a walk down the path behind our house with my new flashlight and heard a voice coming from above the stream. It sounded troubled, as though he or she were crying out to someone else. Freckles let out a light bark but I was able to keep him quiet enough to hear the sad sounding voice. As I got thirty feet or more away, I could see it was the girls father Luke. He had a small lantern to his right and was sitting and facing the stream while rocking slightly back and forth as though he were in some unknown pain. I kept my flashlight pointed down and undetected. Crouching down, I heard his stilted and breathless words:
"From my mother's womb thou art...my God, depart not from me for tribulation is near: For there is...For there is none to help me."
His voice strained with grief, he repeated various memorized scripture over and over again. Feeling uneasy, I got up and pulled a quiet, transfixed Freckle back in the opposite direction. As we got about fifty feet away I could still hear his haunting voice. I never said anything about it to my parents when I went back into the house; I guess I just wanted to forget about it. Unfortunately, I couldn't get it out of my head. What could be wrong with him I thought. It just seemed so eerie.

The next day, I saw Christine and Emily in their backyard, but before I could go over, Luke came out of the back door with some tools and a bucket as he walked into the woods on the other side of their house. I hesitated to go and decided not to. For the next few days, we could hear him sawing and there were some swishing-type noises that seemed to go on for hours. There behind my house, I could see Luke going down to the stream to fill up buckets of water and walking back up past the trees that blocked my site. My father had mentioned to my mom in a recent conversation, that a Friend of his revealed an order from Luke for cement and sand bags from the hardware store in Pleasant Plains. It was all dropped off here at the house. My father and Luke rarely talked much and when they did, it was very brief. My parents never said much about his project so neither did I. By nightfall, I once again heard his somber verses at that same previous spot by the water, but took Freckles in the opposite direction to avoid hearing him.

Soon, the noise we had been hearing in the distance from a man seemingly compelled by his own inner desires was gone. But there was something else as notable as the silence that now hung over the air around our yard we were all aware of--That smell!
We wondered if it could be a dead varmint on our grounds, but a search of the area came up empty. Later on that night, a hearse pulled up and took away Luke's elderly mother who had been living with him and Nancy due to a long suffering illness, and therefore confirmed the odor. But still, that smell seemed to enter the air slowly over time. We wondered why they seemed to wait before calling to notify anyone of her death? I again saw Christine and Emily, but when I inquired about what happened they seemed very guarded in their speech, as though maybe they were hiding something from me they didn't want me to know about. Those days saw a chill becoming more pronounced, and little by little I could see better glimpses of the building. There were two points on either side of the front and in overall size it was very small. There seemed to be some oval-type window on the side and later my father noticed there where actually crosses at two points In the front. It looked to be made of cement which would account for the bags.

Sometime later, things started to get a little strange. While helping my father stack wood in our yard for our fire-pit, we heard Luke yelling at Nancy about something but we couldn't make out what he was saying. Then he came out of his back door looking really upset with his hands to his head and crying. We stopped to look and saw him run to the new building like it was urgent. A few minutes later, Nancy came out of the house crying with her hand on her face. Later on at dinner, mom and dad didn't really talk about it much. Dad just mentioned that it must have been from the stress of loosing his mother, but I could tell he was hiding something from me in the way he looked at my mom--as though there was some information he didn't want me to know about. Going to bed that night, I thought about conversations my parents use to have with friends that would come over for coffee. They would talk about how religious Luke was, and how he got it from his mother. They heard from various sources that she would take him to church when he was small and pray with him at his bedside so God would forgive all his sins and help him grow up as a man that was devoted to the Lord in every way. Then when it was his time to go he could enter paradise and leave this dirty earth and all it's sinners. They also said she was abusive. At times when Luke would leave for school, people would notice his face was a puffy red and he was quiet most of the time.

Then they would talk about Nancy. She wasn't as devoted as Luke was and this would often result in some rift between them. She was married once before but her husband cheated on her--leaving a distrust for men. I guess when she met Luke she figured he wouldn't cheat, but didn't realize what she was in for. From what they said, she hated his mom, Big time! It was because of her they had to pray three times a day; it was because of her that she had to be obedient to Luke. In short, it was his eighty-year old mother that caused all the problems. But, Nancy's biggest inconvenience they said, was having to take care of her in their own home. Having to go out of her way to bring the kids to school and then get back before Luke went to work only to be trapped in the house with that "old bat" with very little thanks in return. To make things worse, Alzheimer's was now setting in, turning simple questions into ordeals. Nancy was indeed stressed out, but then again so was Luke; a man faithfully dedicated--to a fault--to someone who could always give him the answers he needed and the knowledge he was looking for. I knew with everything they were saying, they had pretty good knowledge not only by way of the locals, but through Nancy herself. It seems she needed to vent at times to whoever would listen.

When the cops started showing up to the house, that's when things changed; not only for us, but the entire town! At first we couldn't figure out what was going on. They stayed for over forty-five minutes and then another car with detectives showed up. Eventually the entire family was put in the two cars and taken away.
"What was that about," my mother said puzzled.
"Don't know but somethings going on." my dad replied.
When we heard the knock on our door the next day from a friend of my dad's, The news he brought was shocking!
"What! are you sure." my dad said with surprise.
"That's exactly what I heard from Jimmy who works down at the police station, "Rat Poison!"
It turned out Luke's mom had not died of natural causes after all! It was also discovered that she may have been dead for a while before anyone was notified. When they came to pick her up, she was wrapped in some kind of plastic. Now Luke and Nancy were being questioned on murder charges!

The autopsy report confirmed it and now the word was spreading. Did Nancy finally flip, or was Luke so distraught with stress that he couldn't stand to see his mother lose her mind to something God couldn't even control. The answers were bandied about by the locals for all it was worth. Besides, how often does anything like this happen in a quiet place like this one.

In separate rooms, Nancy and Luke became unresponsive. At one point Luke became so distraught he had to be left alone to recover. Detectives were leaning towards Nancy as the murderer, it just made sense. Even though she's the one who called, she was the main caretaker and carried the brunt of frustration while caring for an elderly woman whose mind just wasn't...there. Locals that had been questioned were happy to spill the beans on Nancy's hate for the old woman and the conversations they had with her--that they thought--may have confirmed it. Detectives are by nature, inquisitive people who learn early on to trust their instincts and to follow them through to the end. If it doesn't add up that's one thing, but when it doesn't feel right, that's just something else entirely different.

Detective Mark Tait new his job, and he new it well. He was put on the case and he could feel it from the beginning of questioning. Something was wrong and that little voice inside his head led him to another road that might turn out to be the one he was looking for. It was around eight in the morning when Luke's daughter Christine was brought in. She sat in the chair next to Mark and had a worried look on her face before the tears started to run down in streaks.
"Did you love your grandma Christine?"
"Yes" Chistine said softly.
"Was there ever a time when your mother hit your grandmother?" mark said cautiously.
"No, but sometimes...

At this point Christine broke down and could not stop sobbing. It took a couple of minutes before Mark could ask her more questions.

"Christine, can you tell me why your crying?"
She caught her breath and said, "Sometimes my father would hit my mother."
"And do you know why?" asked Mark
"He would just say something from the bible and hit her, and then start to cry and then go to grandma."
Mark questioned Christine for about twenty minutes and was done with Christine for now, but would wait for follow-up questions.Then the last person he would interview that day would walk in.

Emily wore her brand new sneakers with the multiple panda bears on them and her brand new sweater. She sat down with a confused look and began answering each question she was asked.

"Do you feel bad about your grandma," Mark asked with reluctance.
"Yup" said Emily.
Mark thought about his previous questions to Christine.

"And did you help take care of her?"
"Um...yeah, I would help mommy feed her."Emily said while fidgeting.
"Oh and what kind of things would you feed her." Mark playfully asked.
"Umm...I would put sugar on her cereal sometimes."
Mark leaned forward in his chair, "And did you do that when mommy was there?"
"Yeah ...but one time...I umm... made sure that she got cheese on her pusketti."

Now mark's attention was focused on Emily's every word and gesture as he continued asking her questions.

"What kind of cheese was it Emily, was it grated cheese?
"I guess so" Emily said unsure of herself.
"And did mommy give you the grated cheese to give to grandma?" Mark said, almost ready to sprint from the room.
"Umm, no, she went outside to get Christine." Emily said while gesturing with her hand.
"And did you tell her you put the cheese on granma's spaghetti?" asked mark.
"Nope" Emily replied with no hesitancy.

Mark was becoming a little more confused, but continued down the same line of questioning hoping for a clue.

"OK Emily, now I need to ask you a really important question. Where did you get the grated cheese from; did mommy leave it out for you?"
"No, Emily replied, it was on the floor under the sink."
"And why did you get it from there?" Mark asked inquisitively.
"I saw a box there."she said.
"And why did you get it from the box Emily?" asked Mark.
"Because mommy said we always had to have our vitamins."
"And why did you take it from that box Emily?
Emily responded with a shrug of her shoulders,"mommy gives vitamins to the animals."
"Did you take it out with your hands?" asked Mark.
"No, I used a spoon and put it on her pusketti that was sitting on the table and brought it to grandma, so I could help out mommy, she saw that I brought it to grandma and said, good girl."
"And did mommy feed it to grandma?" Mark asked, now knowing the answers.
"No, Christine did."
"And Christine didn't know you put the cheese on grandma's spaghetti did she?"
"Nope... is mommy and daddy in trouble," asked Emily.
"No," Mark replied, "Not anymore."

Emily was then led out of the room and rejoined with her parents. They were told what happened and they both were in shock. Nancy was brought to a room and asked if she wanted to press any kind of charges against Luke for battery but she declined. After being released, no charges were brought on Luke or Nancy. After gong home, Luke could not get over the death of his mother. He would run out to that house he made and not come out for hours. He now knew that his mother was poisoned by the sweetest little angel on earth. His thoughts must have tormented him to know end. By that spot, I could hear him say things like: God, why have you forsaking me? or God, what have I done to deserve all this.

The next morning, while walking by the water, my father found Luke. His body was floating face-down and hooked on a pointed end of a root that jutted out. Slightly bloated, the ripples flowed around his body while lines of blood surrounded him as he lay peacefully in his new sleep. His wrists were cut and the gaping wounds could be seen in his arms. They waved slowly back and forth from the small current. The police came and discovered a note that said:

"Grace is poured into thy lips: therefore God has blessed thee forever."

Later the police went to the building where he spent so much of his time, and walking inside they discovered what could only be described as a shrine to his mother. Pictures, memento's and her favorite bible lay on a table facing the door. In a conversation my dad had with Mark Tait, it was discovered that Luke had kept his mothers body in the basement after she died. He was so attached to her he couldn't let her go even in death. When the smell became too much, Nancy finally called the authorities. When we did our first search of the home, Mark said, we found the box of poison under the sink where Emily said it was. They were using it to kill some varmints that were getting under the back porch.

Nancy then had lots of grief to look forward to, and two girls to bring up by herself. Years later, my mom would talk to her about the girls and their futures, but the one thing she mentioned was how hard it was for Nancy to go back near that water. When she did, my mom was there and asked her what helped her through those days. She said she used to recite a poem called: Red Wing Epilogue froma poet named Palewriter that went:

There, where rills and foliage meet and tranquil waters glide,
A willing robin's tree-top song has calmed my inner tides.

There, my monthly solitude with hymns of noble praise,
Benefits my dreary soul to bring forth better days.

Could it be this shared high-tune is of bereft or pain;
A love lost; hence a sad lament for angels wings now gained.

Sadly though, in autumns end and winter's chilling greet,
My stay is shorter then I'd like; my footfalls must retreat.

Sing, oh robin, sing once more before the cold wind blows,
Alas, in my departing shall remain your afterglow.

But the one thing, my mom said, that stuck in her mind most of all, was something Nancy said on one occasion:
"I remember us sitting there and looking at the water and how peaceful it looked. It was a sunny day and I just remember Nancy getting up to get something inside the house when she turned to me and said with a puzzled look on her face: "I don't know, I just can't get that John Lennon song out of my head every time I think about it. You know that one--Imagine there's no heaven..."

After I finished my story, I could see the worried look on their faces as they sat across the table. They really looked depressed. We chatted more about the house, the town and anything else we could think of, and I think in doing so I allayed any doubts or fears they had about moving in as best I could. Finally it was time to go. They invited us back, and in leaving, we could see that we were going to have some fine neighbors--and that was a relief. As we started to go, Peggy, walking slowly with her cane, grabbed me by the arm and with a motherly-type of tone in her voice said: "Now you make sure you come back here tomorrow night dear, won't you; we're having spaghetti, and I wouldn't want you to miss it."

"No, I said with a smile, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Thank you to Helena Parris for helping me through this story and getting it right!


Proverbs 14:21 Evil pursueth sinners: but to the righteous good shall be repaid.

Psalms 45:2 Grace is poured into thy lips: therefore God hath blessed me forever.

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