Dark Corner (25 page)

Franklin did not want to believe it. Junior was a nice
young man, but he was, unfortunately, a bit slow. Franklin
did not believe that Junior was lying, but he suspected that
Junior had unknowingly embellished a few elements. Even
the most intellectually sound individuals found it difficult
to recall incidents in flawless detail.

Or perhaps, Franklin thought, I am afraid to believe everything this young man has told me. His story goes against the
grain of my beliefs. It is easier to discount his tale than to accept it completely.

"That's all of it, Doc," Junior said, his big, callused hands
wrapped around a glass of water. They were in the living
room, Junior sitting on the edge of the sofa, while Franklin
sat in the recliner, turning his pipe in his hands. "Do you ...
do you believe me?"

Franklin chose his words carefully. "Junior, that is a rather
astounding story."

"You ain't lying." Junior laughed, uncomfortably. "Can't
hardly believe it myself."

"I believe that you encountered something bizarre and
unsettling. But I will have to reserve judgment until I have
more information."

"I'm telling the truth" His eyes were pleading. "Please,
you gotta believe me, Doc"

"I believe enough to begin an investigation. I confess that
I've been curious about the motives of the persons who have
moved into Jubilee. Although your story is decidedly unusual, it is far too compelling for me to dismiss out of hand.
I thank you for sharing it with me"

"All right." Junior appeared to be satisfied. He put the
half-full glass of water on the end table. "I better finish cutting that grass. I gotta keep to my schedule."

"Of course. Anytime you need to talk, Junior, I am willing
to listen."

"Well ... thank you, Doc," Junior said. He seemed to be
debating whether to speak again. "Hey, what you think of
banks?"

"Banks? I'm not sure I follow you"

"Would you put your money in a bank, for saving?"

"I certainly would, and have done so for decades. We have
a fine bank here in town. Are you thinking of opening an account?"

"I kinda am, I guess. Mama didn't trust banks, but if you
say I can trust 'em .. "He looked nervous.

Franklin was saddened. Junior was in his early thirties,
and no one had taken the time to educate him on basic finances. It worried Franklin to think of what the kid had been
doing with his money.

"I strongly encourage you to open an account, Junior,"
Franklin said. "You're a hardworking young man and need
to protect your earnings. Give it a try."

Junior grinned broadly. "Thanks, Doc. I'm gonna take
your advice. I'm going next week."

"Always happy to help." Franklin saw him out. Junior
started up the lawn mower with a mighty pull, then began to
cut the grass.

Franklin returned to his chair. He tamped his pipe, lit it
with a match.

He considered Junior's fantastic tale. How much of it was
true? Any of it? All of it?

He went to the study. A large map of Mason's Corner was
pinned to the wall. He had drawn the map to aid his historical research.

He located Jubilee on the map, and marked it with a red
pencil.

When Junior finished mowing the lawn, Franklin would
call him inside again. To determine the location of the cavern.

Before he visited the cave, he needed to know where he
could find it.

On Saturday, Nia slept in. Last night, she had stayed at
David's place until three o'clock in the morning, and by the
time she arrived home, she thought she'd sleep until noon
the next day.

The phone rang, jarring her out of her slumber.

Groggy, she reached toward the nightstand, grabbed the
phone.

"Hello?" she said.

"Still sleep, huh, baby?" It was a man's deep voice.
Immediately familiar.

Nia sprang up like a jack-in-the-box.

"Who is this?" she said, knowing in her heart the answer
to the question.

He chuckled. "You know who I am. Were you dreaming
about me?"

It was Colin Morgan, the teacher who had stalked her
in Houston.

The telephone handset was like a block of ice in her hand.

"I've been dreaming about you every night, Nia. I can't
wait to touch your pretty skin again."

Although his words were not threatening and could even
be considered romantic, in the context of the situation, she
could not have been more revolted and terrified if he had
screamed perverse, violent curses at her. Her stomach twisted.

"Don't you ever call here again," she said. "Leave me
alone"

"I can't help myself, Nia. I've gotta have you. You're
mine

She slammed down the phone.

It rang again.

She didn't pick up. She hugged herself against a chill.
The Caller ID did not reveal Morgan's number or location.
He was smart enough to conceal such details. Smart enough
to find out her unpublished phone number.

Smart enough to find out where she lived?

After ringing five times, the phone fell silent. Voice mail
picked up after several rings.

The red message indicator light began to blink.

She punched in the code to access her messages.

It was Mr. Morgan. He spoke only one sentence, in a
whisper.

"I know where you live."

David picked up Nia early in the evening, to join him for
dinner at Franklin Bennett's house.

He had not discussed his visit to Pearl's with anyone. But
when Nia got into the Pathfinder, looking fresh and lovely in
shorts and a red blouse, the words burst out of him.

"I saw Pearl today."

Nia smiled hesitantly. "What did she say?"

David told her everything. It felt good to share the experience with her. Allowing the words to flow out of him
cleansed him, clarified his thoughts.

"That's deep," Nia said when he had finished. "I can't believe your father felt that by neglecting you all of your life,
he prepared you for whatever's going to happen"

"It's twisted," he said. "His self-centered excuse to justify
himself. Although, in a way, he might be right."

"How so?"

"Growing up without my dad forced me to learn a lot
when I was a kid. I had to learn how to fend for myself, think
through things, set goals, take risks. My mom was supportive, but she couldn't teach me everything, especially about how to be a man. I had to learn a lot on my own. It's made
me self-reliant, and maybe I'll need that in order to do ...
well, whatever I'm supposed to do"

"I see your point," she said. "But think of how much
stronger you might be if your father had been there for you"

"Honestly, I think my dad knew he wouldn't make a good
father. He was too self-centered to take care of a family. It's
better to have no dad around than to have a dad in the house
who makes your life a living hell."

"Good point." She nodded. "But what I want to know is,
what are you supposed to prepare for? What's going to happen?"

"Pearl just wouldn't say, claimed she didn't know." He
patted the illustrated Bible that lay beside him on the seat.
"I'm hoping that when we see Franklin tonight, he can help
me piece together some things. He's a big history buff, you
know."

"Too bad he won't be able to help me, too"

"What's wrong?"

"Remember the guy who stalked me in Houston? Mr.
Morgan? I think he's out of jail. He's called me twice."

"You're kidding."

Her eyes were haunted. "He said that he knows where I
live."

"Damn," David said. "You think he really does? Maybe
he was only trying to scare you"

"He found out my phone number, which is unlisted. Why
not my address?"

"Have you called the police?"

"What could I tell them? I can't prove that he's the one
who called me. I don't have any solid proof of anything, not
yet"

"There has to be something we can do" He guided the
SUV across the road. The Bennetts' house was ahead. Since
they lived across the street from him, he parked in his own
driveway.

"I could stay with you, let you protect me "" She smiled.
"Okay, that was a joke"

"Good to see that you're keeping your sense of humor."

"If I didn't, I'd scream. Seriously, I don't know what I'm
going to do, David. This guy scares the shit out of me ""

He took her hand in his. "I won't let anything happen to you"

"I'm not the only one dealing with drama here. What if
something happens to you?"

She had him on that one. His own situation was as bad
as hers-perhaps more so, because it was deeply strange
and disturbing.

He couldn't bear to think about it any longer. He kissed
her quickly on the lips.

"Come on, Nia, let's go eat"

At Franklin's house, they had a dinner of tossed salad,
grilled rib eye steaks, baked potatoes, and corn on the cob.
They took their meal outdoors on the wooden deck, sitting
on wicker patio furniture.

The evening saw a welcome decrease in the temperature
and humidity that had tormented them all day. A refreshing
breeze carried the robust scent of freshly mown grass mingled with the aroma of Ruby's flower garden. A couple of
torches designed to repel insects burned on the patio railing.

Although Franklin and Ruby were nearly forty years older
than David and Nia, David didn't perceive any of the awkwardness that sometimes stifled discussions between members of different generations. Their conversation flowed,
touching myriad subjects: current events, politics, sports,
music, movies, travel, and more. The Bennetts had not settled quietly into their golden years and allowed themselves
to be cut off from the outside world. They were active and
well-read, frequent travelers, and full of fascinating insights.

After dinner, Ruby served red velvet cake and smooth
Jamaican coffee. Both were delicious.

David sipped the pungent java, then said, "Franklin, when
I first moved here, you promised to teach me about the
town's colorful history. I've been waiting for my lesson."

"Oh, you've done it, David." Ruby made a mock grimace.
"Don't get Professor Bennett started"

"The young man desires instruction," Franklin said. "Do
not rebuke the curious mind."

"I'm curious, too" Nia placed her fork on her plate. "I've
lived here my whole life, but everything I know about the
town's come from hearsay and gossip."

"Which, interestingly enough, often contains kernels of
truth," Franklin said. He cleared his throat. "Any discussion
about this town must begin with its founder, Edward Mason."

"You've told me a little about him before," David said.
"He started a plantation here"

"Correct," Franklin said. "Edward Mason moved here from
Virginia, in eighteen forty-one. His vision was to establish the
grandest, most prosperous plantation in Mississippi. A cotton kingdom, if you will. He had his stately mansion built on
a hill that overlooked the thousand acres under his dominion. He owned three hundred slaves, to work the land from
dawn till dusk.

"Mason was a strict, cruel master. He had slaves beaten
severely for minor infractions: resting a minute too long, arriving late to work, tarrying too long when drinking water or
eating. A slave was killed if he violated Mason's code one
too many times. Mason believed that disobedience was inimical to his mission to maintain a plantation that functioned
with machinelike efficiency.

"In the beginning, his punishments were fairly standard,
as such things were on plantations-lashes with a whip. In
time, however, he grew more sadistic and imaginative in his
tortures. He once had a disobedient slave tied to the hindquarters of a horse and dragged throughout the countryside.
On another occasion, he doused a man in kerosene and set
him aflame. Then he had a woman hung from a tree by her ankles, and left there for days. Another time, a teenage slave
had fresh meat hung around his neck and waist, and was
forced into a pen of dogs.

"In eighteen sixty-one, the Civil War broke out. Edward
Mason had no intention of surrendering to Union troops or
perishing at their hands. He quickly made special preparations. He'd already had a mausoleum built at a cemetery, especially for his family. Well, now he had a concealed passage
built into the crypt. The passage led to a deep shaft that gave
access to an underground hideaway. His plan was to seek
refuge there whenever Union soldiers approached.

"Alas, Mason never had the opportunity to use his hideout. His slaves, emboldened at the idea of a war that would
end slavery, and hearing accounts of slaves escaping bondage
to fight for the Union, launched an insurrection. They set the
plantation on fire, and they hung Edward Mason from a tree
that still stands to this day in the front yard of Jubilee. Many
of the slaves were killed in the uprising, but a few of them
escaped and crossed the lines to fight for the Union. My
great-grandfather was one of them"

"Amazing." David shook his head, and Nia looked equally
astonished. "Is that how you know so much about the history
of Edward Mason?"