I heard the laugh again, right at my side. Caroline took my arm, and I knew nothing would ever be the same.
Simon Field
I’m down the grave standing on the coffin when she comes along. The procession’s just left, and I’m shifting dirt so it fills the cracks round the coffin. Then I’ve to knock out the lowest shoring wood with a hammer and our pa and Joe’ll pull ‘em out with a rope. It’s twelve feet deep, this one.
Our pa and Joe are singing:
She’s my lady love
She’s my dove, my baby love
She’s no gal for sitting down to dream
She’s the only queen Laguna knows.
They stop but I keeps on:
I know she likes me
I know she likes me
Because she says so
She is the Lily of Laguna
She is my Lily, and my Rose.
Then I look up and see Livy standing at the edge of the grave, laughing down at me.
“Damn, Livy,” I say. “Wha’re you doing there?”
She shakes her hair and shrugs. “Looking at you, naughty boy,” she says. “You mustn’t say ‘damn.’ ”
“Sorry.”
“Now, I’m going to get down there with you.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can.” She turns to our pa. “Will you help me down?”
“Oh, no, missy, you don’t want to go down there. ‘Tain’t no place for you. ’Sides, you’ll get your nice dress and shoes all dirty.”
“Doesn’t matter-I can have them cleaned afterward. How do you climb down-with a ladder?”
“No, no, no ladder,” our pa says. “With a deep un like this we got all this wood stuck in, see, every foot or two, to keep the sides from caving in. We climbs up and down it. But don’t you go doing that,” he adds, but too late, ‘cause Livy’s climbing down already. All I can see of her is her two legs sticking out from a dress and petticoats.
“Don’t come down, Livy,” I say, but I don’t mean it. She’s climbing down the wood frame like she’s done it all her life. Then she’s down on the coffin with me. “There,” she says. “Are you pleased to see me?”
“Course.”
Livy looks round and shivers. “It’s cold down here. And so muddy!”
“What’d you expect? It’s a grave, after all.”
Livy scrapes her toe in the clay on the coffin. “Who’s in there?”
I shrug. “Dunno. Who’s in the coffin, our Pa?” I call up.
“No, let me guess,” Livy says. “It’s a little girl who caught pneumonia. Or a man who drowned in one of the heath ponds trying to save his dog. Or-”
“It’s an old man,” our pa calls down. “Nat‘ral causes.” Our pa likes to find out something about who we bury, usually from listening to the mourners at the graveside.
Livy looks disappointed. “I think I shall lie down,” she says.
“You don’t want to do that,” I say. “It’s muddy, like you said.”
She don’t listen to me. She sits down on the coffin lid and then she stretches out, her hair getting mud in it and all. “There,” she says, crossing her hands over her chest like she’s dead. She looks up at the sky.
I can’t believe she don’t mind the mud. Maybe she’s gone doolally. “Don’t do that, Livy,” I say. “Get up.”
She still lies there, her eyes closed, and I stare at her face. It’s strange seeing something so pretty lying there in the mud. She’s got a mouth makes me think of some chocolate-covered cherries Maude gave me once. I wonder if her lips taste like that.
“Where’s Maude?” I say to stop thinking of it.
Livy makes a face but keeps her eyes shut. “Over at the library with her mother.”
“Mrs. C.’s out and about?”
I shouldn’t have said nothing, nor sounded surprised. Livy opens her eyes, like a dead un suddenly come to life. “What do you know about Maude’s mother?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just that she was ill. That’s all.”
I’ve said it too quickly. Livy notices. It’s funny-she’s not like Ivy May, who sees everything. But when she wants to she notices things.
“Mrs. Coleman was ill, but that was over two months ago,” she says. “She does look dreadful but there’s something else wrong. I just know it.” Livy sits up. “And you know it.”
I shift from one foot to the other. “I don’t know nothing.”
“You do.” Livy smiles. “You’re hopeless at lying, Simon. Now, what do you know about Maude’s mother?”
“Nothing I’m going to tell you.”
Livy looks pleased and I wish I hadn’t said even that. “I knew there was something,” she says. “And I know that you’re going to tell me.”
“Why should I tell you anything?”
“Because I’m going to let you kiss me if you do.”
I stare at her mouth. She’s just licked her lips and they’re all glistening like rain on leaves. She’s trapped me. I move toward her, but she pulls her face back.
“Tell me first.”
I shake my head. I hate to say it but I don’t trust Livy. I have to have my kiss before I’ll say a word. “I’ll only tell you after.”
“No, kiss after.”
I shake my head again, and Livy sees I’m serious. She lies back down on the mud. “All right, then. But I must pretend I’m Sleeping Beauty and you’re the prince who wakes me.” She closes her eyes and crosses her hands over her chest again like she’s dead. I look up. Our pa ain’t hanging over the grave-he must’ve sat down to wait with the bottle. I don’t know how long I’ll be lucky, so I lean over quick and press my mouth against Livy’s. She stays still. Her lips are soft. I touch them with my tongue-they don’t taste like chocolate cherries, but like salt. I move back onto my heels and Livy opens her eyes. We look at each other but don’t say nothing. She smiles a little.
“Simon, get yourself going, lad. We’ve another to dig after this,” our pa calls down. He’s standing up top leaning over like he’s going to fall in. I don’t know if he saw us kissing-he don’t say. “You need help up, missy?” he says.
I don’t want him coming down here when Livy’s with me. Three people is too much in a grave. “Leave her ‘lone,” I call up. “I’ll bring her out.”
“I’ll come up myself as soon as Simon answers my question,” Livy says.
Our pa looks like he’s going to climb down, so I has to say it quick. “Mrs. C. visited our ma,” I whisper.
“What, on a charity visit?”
“Who says we need charity?”
Livy don’t answer.
“Anyhow, it were business, not charity.”
“Your mother is a midwife, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but-”
“Do you mean she’s had another child?” Livy’s eyes get big. “Maude has a secret brother or sister somewhere? How exciting! I do hope it’s a brother.”
“It weren’t that,” I say quickly. “She don’t have a brother nor suchlike. It were the other. Getting rid of the brother or sister before it’s born. Else it would’ve been a bastard, see.”
“Oh!” Livy sits up straight and stares at me, her eyes still big. I wish I’d never said a thing. Some people’s meant to be innocent of life, and Livy’s one of‘em. “Oh!” she says again, and starts to cry. She lays back down on the mud.
“It’s all right, Livy. Our ma was gentle. But it took her a time to recover.”
“What will I tell Maude?” she sobs.
“Don’t tell her nothing,” I say quickly, not wanting it to get worse. “She don’t need to know.”
“But she can’t possibly live with her mother in those circumstances.”
“Why not?”
“She can come and live with us. I’ll ask Mama. I’m sure she’ll say yes, especially when she’s heard why.” Livy’s stopped crying now.
“Don’t tell her nothing, Livy,” I say.
Then I hear a scream overhead and look up. Livy’s mother is looking down at us with Maude peeking over her shoulder. Ivy May’s standing by herself on the other side of the grave.