"So it really is the Bellamys' house. Even though they're long dead."
"It has their name, it beats with their hearts. I felt their love the minute I walked into the place. Made me sad how the strength of that love got twisted by the ugly things bad folks turn it to when my cousin Judea got to whoring there. Stole that house, turned the name into a lie. That wasn't no love there, that wasn't no joy. It wasn't the Bellamy house no more."
"So how did they get stuck?"
"It ain't the house sticking to them, it be them sticking to the house."
"So it depends on the person?" said Don. "But why them?"
"You don't think I be wondering about that myself? I'll tell you what I guess. And this just a guess, Mr. Lark. It be the folks who most need a home that gets stuck in a strong house. Pain and loss, that fetch you up in a place like that. Shame and guilt, that hold you, that make you stick. My cousin Judea, she got herself pregnant by her uncle Mack, and they took that baby away from her before it make a sound, she never see it, and then she run off what with her mama and daddy calling her a low-class whore, and then she fetch up here where they make it true. You got it all there, pain and loss, shame and guilt. That baby didn't get adopted, either. They drown that baby like a cat. She told me before that baby born, she say, Gladys, I better run off, they going to hurt my baby. Only she never did run off, did you, Cousin Judea."
"No," said Judea softly.
"So she stick to that house. Her need so strong, that house so strong, they be two magnets."
Don turned to Miz Evelyn. "What about you?"
"That's nobody's business," said Miz Evelyn darkly.
"Oh, now, Miz Evelyn, we asking this man to help us get shut of that house," said Gladys.
"He don't have to know all that," said Miz Evelyn.
"Let's just say that Miz Evelyn knowed where the shotgun be, and where her husband be, and who he with. Let's just say that. Had to hightail it out of the mountains before the sheriff found the bodies. They still warm when she fetch up here and hide out in that house. Pain and loss and shame and guilt."
"So why am I not caught?" asked Don.
"You got the pain, you got the loss," said Gladys. "But what you ashamed of? What you guilty for?"
"I didn't save my daughter when I could."
"My laws, boy, you know you couldn't save her. You know you did all that Jesus ever let you do. You may think you ashamed, but you not. Deep in your heart, you know you done all."
"You don't know what I feel," said Don.
"I know that if you be guilty, that house suck you in."
Don had to think about this. About what it meant for Sylvie. He walked to the window that faced the house and opened the curtains.
"Please don't," said Miz Judea.
"No, you let him," said Gladys. "Just you don't look."
What about Sylvie? He knew her pain and her loss. But shame? Guilt? She had thought she killed Lissy. So the house held her. But now she knew she didn't...
"The girl next door," said Don. "Sylvie Delaney. She thought she committed murder there, and so she had the shame and guilt. But now she knows she didn't. That she was the one who was murdered."
"Kind of slow, ain't she?" said Gladys, looking amused.
"Innocent, that's what she is," said Don. "And now that she knows it, will the house lose its grip on her?"
"Maybe she not telling you, Mr. Lark," said Gladys, "but that house already letting go of her bit by bit. She fading. So you might as well tear that place down. She as good as gone."
Don sat down on the window sill, despondent. "I found her and then I lost her," he said.
"Why you sad about that?" said Gladys. "She going to be free now. She can go home to Jesus."
"Call me selfish, but I wanted her to go home with me."
"You show me where it says in God's plan about a man marrying him a dead girl. You show me that."
"You show me where it says that when a man and a woman fall in love, they shouldn't get married just because one of them's dead."
"I'll tell you where," said Gladys. "It says in the Good Book that in heaven they be neither marrying nor giving in marriage."
"Well what does that prove? Sylvie ain't in heaven." Don got up and walked up and put a knee on the foot of Gladys's bed, so he could look her straight in her squinched-up little eyes. "Miss Gladys, everything about this is wrong. That house is beautiful and filled with love—so why should it snag people because of the ugliness in their lives?"
"Nothing needs beauty so much as ugly do," said Gladys.
"But it's not beautiful to them. To Miz Judea and Miz Evelyn. If it was, they'd still be over there, and it would make them happy inside."
"It got twisted," said Gladys. "Man who make it a whorehouse he be six kinds of ugly in his heart. I tell you the strength come from the love of that first family who lived there. But after that, the house take on the soul of the owner."
"Well I'm the owner now!"
"Too late," said Gladys. "Too late for us. Maybe ten years from now, you so good that house be decent again. But you think we still alive by then? Besides, Mr. Lark, that's a pretty big gamble. Whether you good enough to unbad that house, or it bad enough to ungood you."
"I don't want to tear it down," said Don. "It's too beautiful."
"Beautiful to look at," said Gladys. "But if it do ugly things, then all that pretty be a lie."
"But it's not doing ugly things," said Don. "No, listen to me. The house was mean enough when it thought I was tearing it down. I still have a sore place on the back of my head to prove it. But then it stole my wrecking bar and when I went looking for it, it was behind the old coal furnace. Right where that tunnel entrance was. That was what sent me down the tunnel. That was why I found Sylvie's body there, and we learned the truth. Now you can't tell me the house is malicious when it did that!"
Gladys shook her head, which moved her whole body, quaking the bed. "You poor man, you try so hard," she said.
"Don't make fun of me," he said, "just tell me what's wrong with what I said."
"It Sylvie's house all these years, Mr. Lark," said Gladys. "House be malicious, all right. It do what Sylvie want. Not what she want in her mind, but what she want in the dark secret places. She want to be blamed for her crimes. So... the house led you there. Betrayed her."
"But she didn't commit a crime! And if the house knows so much, it knew that!"
"Tunnel ain't part of the house, Mr. Lark. Tunnel be older than the house. A good place. A freedom place. The tunnel showed you the truth. But the house, all it knew was what Sylvie knew. So the house, it trying to make you hate Sylvie. That's what she thought—if you went down that tunnel and saw what it had there, you hate her then. Treachery and malice, Mr. Lark. That's what that house got from all those years with that bad man and his bad sons owning it."
Don thought of how he'd had to pay extortion money to the last owner. "I guess none of the owners were very nice, not since the Bellamys."
"Now that dead girl," said Gladys, "she's nice enough. She been taking the edge off that malice. Made my job a little easier. That's why Miz Evelyn and Miz Judea, they can go out and work in the yard. Till you fix things up over there."
"Miss Gladys," said Don. "I appreciate all you've explained to me. But the big question is still hanging in the air. What can I do to set things right?"
"And my answer still hanging right next to it. Tear down that house."