Page 85 of Dreams of Falling
“Some people said at the time that the fire was intentional.” He pressed his lips together as if he didn’t want to say more, then spoke again as if he knew I’d keep at him until he told me everything. “They said your grandmother was murdered. That’s all I remember, and that’s the truth. It’s all a bunch of garbage, you hear? Just something for people to wag their jaws about. Except for the Sunset Lodge, there’s never really been a lot of news here in Georgetown. People had to make stuff up to give them something to do.”
He squeezed my arm, then turned to his customers.
I looked back at the mural, at the three young women sitting with their backs to me, then slowly allowed my gaze to slide to the right, where the tableau of a house on fire with people trapped inside played itself out.
What were you trying to say, Mama? What do you want me to see?
I waved good-bye and left the shop, hugging the box against my chest, then stood on the sidewalk, remembering the photos Mabry and I had seen of the three friends growing up together. Of their trip to Myrtle Beach. And how there weren’t any pictures from after that.
“Larkin!”
I startled at the sound of my name and turned to see Mabry approaching me, carrying a clear dry-cleaning bag with something yellow inside. She stopped next to me and tilted her head. “You all right?”
I showed her the cigar box. “Gabriel gave me this.”
“Nice,” she said, her tone questioning.
“Mama painted it.”
Mabry nodded. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “But that doesn’t explain why you look like they’ve just discontinued your favorite flavor.”
I considered not telling her, not wanting to give voice to the dark thoughts running around my brain. “Do you remember ever hearing a local legend about the fire at Carrowmore?”
She shook her head. “No. It happened thirty years before we were born, so probably not much of a topic of conversation on the playground, you know? Why do you ask?”
“Gabriel just told me that some people thought the fire had been set intentionally. That it might have been murder.”
“But that’s just legend, right? Like the old rhyme ‘Lizzie Borden took an ax.’” Mabry stopped. “Well, that probably isn’t the best example, but you know what I’m saying. People love stories—the more salacious, the better. That doesn’t make them true.”
“Yes, except Bennett found the official report about the fire in your grandfather’s papers, and someone had written the word ‘suspicious’ under the cause of fire. So...”
“So?” Mabry asked, her eyes looking steadily into mine.
“So, I’m wondering if there’s a glimmer of truth to it. Isn’t that what they say? That every legend, or ghost story, has a crumb of truth at its heart?”
“I don’t know—is that what they say? What about Ceecee and Bitty? I’m assuming you’ve asked them?”
“Of course. But Ceecee said she was sleeping and doesn’t remember anything, and Bitty wasn’t there.”
“Sure, but maybe they’ll know why people would say something so awful about what happened. Let’s go ask. I was on the way to Ceecee’s house anyway.”
I nodded, took a step, then stopped. “There’s one more thing. Something in the mural inside Gabriel’s store—the one my mama painted. There’s a hidden picture in the back corner that shows Carrowmore on fire. In one of the windows, two women are staring out, and in another window, there’s a figure of another woman—with red hair.”
“Bitty?”
“Who else could it be?” I asked. “Except Bitty wasn’t there.”
I was afraid for a moment that Mabry was going to tell me to wait until my mother woke up and we could ask her about it then. But she didn’t, and I was glad. Mama had been in a coma for more than three weeks, without any change or good news from her doctors. Even I had stopped lying to myself.
“Let’s definitely go ask Ceecee, then. She’s bound to have heardsomething. And then I can show you the dress.” Mabry smiled secretively and threw her bundle over her other arm.
“The dress?”
She nodded. “When your daddy went up to the attic to get the album and photos, Ceecee asked him to bring this dress down, too. It needed a hem fixed and the zipper mended, so she brought it to Mama, who is just about a genius with a needle. It looks practically brand-new.”
I kept trying to steal a glance at the dress under the plastic, but she continued moving it out of my sight. “Why aren’t you letting me see it?”
“Because it’s supposed to be a surprise.”
