Nobody Can Say It's You

24

There wasn't one.

Was Button an atheist? 

Impossible to know. 

Button was a recluse, a bit of an outcast. He came into town once in a blue moon, but he never had much to do with anyone. He came, picked up whatever supplies he needed, and then disappeared back into the hills again.

Hadley could not remember one instance of Granny Dilcie talking about Button. Strange, she thought, for Granny seemed to know and talk about so many of her other neighbors.

It was as if Button Dudley was only a shadow in the community and not a real person. Did he love his privacy at all costs? Was too much privacy a bad thing? Had he committed some act that banished him from the elders, done something so long ago that only they would remember?

Hadley didn't know.

Only the Ancients and Beanie, Lou Edna and Hadley, and a couple of other brave souls had come out at midnight to bury the dead old man who had come screaming down the street like demons were biting at his heels.

***

A car drove up. Hadley recognized it. It was a familiar sedan with a sheriff's star on the side. Bill cut the motor and switched off the lights. 

He didn't get out. He just sat in his car nearby. The orange glow from the torches' light reflected off the side of his car. Hadley breathed easier.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but it was just a feeling, a very uneasy feeling, that something or someone was watching the small group from the edge of the woods.

Nerves, she thought. Just nerves. How often had she gotten up in the middle of the night and dressed for a funeral? 

Not once. 

Ever. 

And those torches made her wonder if they weren't all in a dream right out of the Middle Ages. 

Creepy. 

The whole scene was surreal. Why was she standing here, with the ghouls and the spirits, freezing her patoot off?

She didn't really know Button Dudley. He wasn't a dear friend. More like an acquaintance. He wasn't a relation. Not even distant.

She glanced over at Beanie.

That was why.

***

Beanie was standing by a large tree. His shovel was by his side. He looked like one of the Queen's guards, minus the big fuzzy hat and the fancy red and black uniform. But he stood ramrod straight.

The shovel might have been a long gun the way Beanie held it close to his body. There wasn't any chance of Beanie falling asleep tonight and tumbling down into the black hole he'd dug earlier in the day. His eyes were round white orbs. Hadley could just make them out in the light cast by the torches.

Beanie was present and accounted for, but it was obvious he was scared to death.

He glanced her way. Hadley smiled and hoped she looked calm. That was the feeling she wanted to convey to her friend. She wanted him to feel like he'd be all right.