Falling in the Garden

Chapter Ten - Deviations

Chapter Ten

Deviations

I spent the remainder of the morning and all that afternoon on the computer searching for clues. I now had two names to go with: Leon Kasner, which I’d known for years, and now Sarah Kasner. I guessed that Leon might have been her father, possibly a Grandfather or Uncle, but there had to be some connection. I wondered if Ashley had ever been inside the Kasner’s house. Just the fact that she had actually seen the house made me feel somehow closer to her. The Meadow had begun to feel supernatural now. There were so many unknown variables. The Kasner house, however, proved to be a rare constant that existed throughout both our times.

My Internet search brought up little more than I already knew, which was near to nothing. The only really important thing I discovered was that both Leon and his wife died in 1986. He was 84 and she, Moira Kasner, 80. I looked for an official obituary, but found none. There was no mention anywhere of a Sarah Kasner. I wondered if maybe she was a long-visiting niece or more distant relation. There were no other Kasners in the area.

Just before I turned the computer off for the day, I discovered one last important thing. Both Leon and Moira had been buried locally at the West Garden Cemetery, less than 3 miles from where I sat. I had another few hours before I would venture back to The Meadow, so I decided a three-mile walk would pass the time. I told my mother where I was going and set off. She said that she’d have dinner for me when I returned.

My logical side knew that the short journey to West Garden was only to confirm what I knew and possibly discover some new information on their gravestones. Another part of me needed the reassurance. Something tangible.

When I arrived, I was amazed at how well kept the cemetery was. I’d passed it in the car hundreds of times, never once seing anyone mowing the grass or tending the plots. As I passed through the entry gate, an odd calmness fell upon me. A natural perimeter of willows ensconced the small area, creating an ethereal shade that crisscrossed the land in a moving web. Having no idea where to begin, I started searching for a pattern of dates. Finding none, I went row by row, spending about a half hour with no luck. Standing in the center, I looked around and realized that I’d forgotten about nine or ten burial plots gated off in secluded areas closer to the willows. The third one I checked belonged to the Kasner family.

There were two markers.

LEON KASNER

MAY 1, 1902 –

OCTOBER 10, 1986

MOIRA KASNER

JUNE 5, 1906 –

OCTOBER 10, 1986

And beneath the dates of each, these words:

SURVIVED BY OUR DAUGHTER

SARAH ROSE KASNER

When I returned home, my mother and I ate dinner in comfortable silence. I could have waited until that evening to ask Ashley if Sarah’s parents were named Leon and Moira, but I needed to see for myself each solid connection. It was so easy to slip and loose faith during the day. The memory of the gravestones, now, kept me grounded. Focused. As did the helicopter and the strange visitors. I sat on our back deck and felt the day bleeding toward twilight. Felt the air begin to cool. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply of everything that was happening. A large part of me was scared. Hell, I was terrified. I kept hearing Ashley’s voice explain that her mother was sick. Something about their situation in 1946 made me feel horribly uneasy. It went beyond the secrecy, too.

I opened my eyes and looked straight up, past the top branches of the trees into the burgeoning night. I wanted to see a shooting star. Or the vapor trail of a passing jetliner. Even the cursory glow of firefly light would have been fine. What I saw, instead, was the haphazard flight of bats. This was their time of waking. They seemed to bounce through the air and polish the sky a deeper pitch. I heard the faint sound of running water. My mother was preparing a bath for herself. I went to my room and collected my bag, sprayed my legs, arms and the back of my neck with insect repellant and set off for The Meadow.