The Girl in the Wych Elm (I)

 

 I. A Tree. A Body. A Conspiracy. (Re-upload)

There used to be an old regional saying about how, “The path to damnation lies between two Towers.” Proverbs are much more interesting when rooted in some truth.

 

As the hour of Cecilia’s death drew closer, the disease afflicted woman began to cackle hysterically for seemingly no reason. Ceclia’s granddaughter and long-time caretaker, Sophie, was perturbed by the change in demeanor. The last few weeks leading up to that night had been rough for the young woman emotionally. Cecilia had stopped eating and didn’t say or interact much. And while she was elated seeing her grandmother in a livelier mood, she couldn’t help but feel like the woman’s time on the Mortal Plane was almost up. “Sweet Sophie, do you hear that?” Cecilia raised a frail hand to her ear. Sophie gawked at the dying woman with bemusement.

“I… I don’t hear anything, Nana.” The only noises Sophie heard were the caws and chatters of the Nighthawks outside their window. She placed a cold rag to her grandmother’s forehead to ward off fever. Sophie wondered if senility was a side effect of imminent death.

Cecilia, however, doubled down on her previous question. “You may not hear it now, but you will very soon.” She grabbed Sophie’s hand and cradled it like it was a treasured heirloom. Cecilia then rose slowly from her chair and shuffled carefully around her granddaughter, across the room towards the door. In one brisk movement, Sophie was in front of Cecilia, barring her way.

“Nana…where are you trying to go at this hour? You can’t leave. Please, sit back down in your chair before you fall.” Beseeched the young woman. Sophie promised her grandmother they would go walking in the morning. Until then, she politely but sternly told Cecilia it was time for bed.

The older woman unabashedly responded, "I'll get all the sleep I need once I’m dead in the ground.” The statement warranted a disappointed frown from Sophie. Even at Death’s Door, Cecilia remained unmoving. "Sophie, my sweet, sweet granddaughter. I wish you well, my love." Her final departing words to Sophie were for her and Theo to live happy, prosperous lives far away from the maws of Wych Elm.

When Sophie tried inquiring about her grandmother’s remark, Cecilia abruptly went mute. She said nothing else for the rest of the interaction. It was as if she lost the ability to speak all together. Cecilia bumped past Sophie, continuing her final destination to the front door.

Sophie yelled her name. “Nana? Nana…? Nana! Nana!” Her voice grew louder with every spoken word. Cecilia continued ignoring her granddaughter. She was lost in a trance. “Nana! Nana answer me! Come back! Wh-where are you going? Nana!" Sophie shrieked angrily, having lost her patience with the woman.

Cecilia never got the opportunity to grab the handle; the front door suddenly flung open. A powerful blast of wind swept through the house, nearly knocking Sophie on her behind and scattering objects around the living room. The frantic woman called for her grandmother but was met with silence. The wind settled. Sophie opened her eyes, horrified to see her beloved grandmother lying face down in the doorway. Dead. Sophie hurried to Cecilia’s side. She wept uncontrollably over her grandmother’s body, screaming her name and shaking her violently. Cecilia’s fragile shoulder was broken in the process. Sophie lost it. "No. No. No. No... Oh my God! No!" Cecilia was dead.

Grieving, Sophie rocked Cecilia in her arms like the woman did to her as a child. Her warm tears dripped down onto Cecilia’s face. "Let's get you into bed, Nana." She sniffled and scooped the body into her arms.

Sophie went to close the door with her right side but paused. She felt someone’s eyes on her. Sophie peered around the door, looking out into the fleeting evening. She saw, in the Wych Elm tree adjacent to Old Cahawba, the silhouette of something or someone swinging in the wind. 

 

Sophie’s brown eyes stared in awe at the massive Wych Elm tree that laid asunder in the yard of Old Cahawba. Had it fallen just a few more feet to the left, it would have split the manor in half. “Good fortune seems to always shine down upon those Hightowers.” She remarked, shaking her head. It appeared that not even the Wrath of God could touch them. “No wonder Nana and all the others think they’re in bed with the Dev-” Sophie’s shriek echoed into the early morning; someone’s hand was on her shoulder. She slowly turned her head to the side, praying to God it wasn’t a Hightower or an associate behind her. Thankfully, she met the welcoming eyes of her loving husband, Theo. “I miss Nana but I’m not ready to see her again so soon.” She said exhaling. Sophie buried herself in Theo’ embrace.

Theo caressed his wife’s head. “Didn’t mean to take you by surprise there, my love.” He had called her name several times, but Sophie had been lost in her own world.

“Come on and move your ass, Theo.” The harsh words came from the mouth of his hardened co-worker, Mercutio. “We gotta get to work. You want Philippe on our asses again today?” The week had been a grueling one for Theo, Mercutio, and their other co-workers. They all had been on the receiving end of their boss’s ire, who had been in a dangerous mood since last week. Mercutio was one scolding away from assault and battery.

Sophie handed over Theo’ lunchbox and thermos. His lunch for the day consisted of pot roast, an egg salad sandwich, and a slice of cherry pie for dessert. She always prepared his food the morning of, so it was still fresh by lunchtime. When Theo headed out for work, Sophie walked with her husband to his site before returning home. That had been their daily routine for the last three years of their marriage.

However, with Cecilia gone, the last place Sophie wanted to be was home by herself. Her grandmother hadn’t been buried just yet. The body was put back in Cecilia’s bedroom, covered in a shroud. Sophie wanted the honor of washing and dressing her grandmother before they came to collect her body that evening for burial that weekend. Cecilia had raised Sophie since she was five after her father died and her mother ran off with another man, leaving her behind. There was no greater honor to Sophie than preparing Cecilia for her next life. Initially, Sophie believed she could handle the responsibility all on her own but as the hour of her return home drew close, she found herself hesitant to leave. After that day, she would never see her grandmother again. The thought crippled her will.

“Theo!” Mercutio called his name with greater urgency. “We gotta get this tree cleared before sun set.” The assignment would take all day due to the tree’s immense size. It first had to be cut into smaller sections before being hauled away. “Need I remind you,” he said, pulling Theo by his shoulder, “that our client is the Mayor of Wych Elm.” One of two people in all of Wych Elm who no one wanted to piss off.

“Yes, of course.” Theo returned his attention to Sophie and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’ll see you when I get home. I love you, Sophie.” He kissed her forehead tenderly. Sophie smiled, though it was a sad one. Theo didn’t care that it wasn’t her usual happy smile. He was just happy to see her smile regardless. The sweet moment between the young couple had Mercutio scowling. The older man was the antithesis to everything Theo was.

Theo was younger and new to the crew; Mercutio was older and one of the most senior workers. Theo enjoyed his job and took pride in his work. Mercutio loathed his career as an arborist. Theo was married to the love of his life. Mercutio had recently wrapped up his second second divorce. Everyone on the crew like Theo and flocked to him while they kept their distance from the latter.

While Mercutio waited for Theo to wrap up his momentary goodbye, he wondered how much longer he could handle the cruelty that was his miserable life. The work of an arborist had been terrible on Mercutio’s body and attitude. Unfortunately for the older man, that life was all he knew. He was still too young to retire just yet but too old to find another line of work. Landscaping, cutting and clearing trees was not the life he envisioned for himself, but they were the only tasks he was good at.

Mercutio's father, Mercutio the Elder, had been an arborist as his father before him was. The younger Mercutio cursed his existence. He cursed his parents for giving birth to him and bringing him into a miserable way of life. Mercutio often wished he was born a Hightower or some member of the other High Families. He looked towards the sky and cursed God for allowing human suffering to go unchecked.

“You don’t really want your children growing up in a horrid place like Wych Elm, do you? Oppressed by and in fear of the High Families and slaving away at a low paying job?” Mercutio had asked Theo in a previous conversation. Sour a man as he was, Mercutio knew when a person had potential. “They’ll resent you. I hope you know that.” He followed up.

Theo was native to Wych Elm; he left at eighteen for college only to return after he graduated with a degree in architecture. Mercutio couldn’t fathom why a young man, who had better opportunities than most Wych Elmites, ultimately chose his dump of a hometown. Theo’s decision not only pissed him off tremendously, but it also made him resentful too. He wished he had been afforded the opportunity to pursue college and a life outside of Wych Elm. Mercutio would have left and never looked back. He chastised Theo for dreaming small.

“You got to be the change you want to see in the world.” Theo clicked his tongue. That was the answer he gave Mercutio. He understood the older man’s sentiments and that his words came from a good place despite their roughness. Some people would have told old Mercutio to piss off with his opinions and worry about himself. Theo wasn’t like that. He thanked Mercutio for caring about him. “I’m not worried about my children’s future.” Theo told him with the widest and brightest smile. Mercutio was always annoyed by the man’s upbeat and positive demeanor. “I’m certain my children will have bright futures ahead of them. I know they’ll leave this town and venture out into the world. They’ll carve out their own destinies.” And if they didn’t, Theo would still support them regardless.

Mercutio, however, scoffed at Theo’s words, calling the younger man an ignorant fool. Theo merely laughed, once again thanking his co-worker for caring. Mercutio found Theo very strange. Nothing seemed to ever get under his skin or upset him. Even on Theo’s “bad days,” he remained a bright light amidst a sea of darkness. It was no wonder he was so popular among his community.

Salty, old Mercutio would never admit it, but he envied Theo a lot, often wishing he could have been more like Theo during his own youth. But Mercutio was his father’s son. He became the exact person he swore he would never become. That envy and inferiority caused Mercutio to project his dislike onto the younger man.

Mercutio and Theo along with Samuel, Lorenzo, and Jameson were assigned to section the trunk into smaller units. As they worked, Samuel told his mates about a new woman in his love life. Jade was her name. Lorenzo and Jameson erupted into laughter. Jade had quite a reputation around Wych Elm. She was always underneath various men associated with the High Families. The only person with something positive to say was unironically Theo. “She’s probably a very lovely woman.” He placed his hands on Samuel’s shoulders. “I hope she makes you happy.” Mercutio cut his eyes at the comment. He had reached his limit with Theo’s positive attitude for the morning.

“She might be a lovely woman, but she’s definitely ran through.” Jameson bellowed with laughter.

“Jade's looks are fading, probably knows her popularity with the men of the High Families are up. Other than her body, she doesn’t have much else going for her. I’ll give her credit though. She’s found a good sucker to take care of her.” Lorenzo said, nudging Jameson in the shoulder. The sexist remarks started a hostile argument between the two men and Samuel with Theo mediating.

Not wanting to hear Phillipe’s raspy bitching early in the shift, Mercutio distanced himself from the noise. "If you need me, I'll be on this end." He told the men and walked off without saying anything else.

Mercutio found his section of the tree trunk too dense for his raggedy chainsaw. "Damn it..." He swore as he wiped the sweat from his brows. "Stubborn ass tree." Mercutio went searching for a better tool. "Hey! Is there a spare chainsaw in the truck somewhere?" He called to his crew without looking up. None of them responded to his inquiry. "You assholes had a lot to say a few seconds ago. Now you're quiet as church mice. What's up with that?" He dryly chuckled. "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you clowns-?" The four men were huddled together, looking down at something in front of them. Mercutio sensed something was off. He had never seen those four so eerily silent when together. He tossed his chainsaw to the side and made his way over to them.

The scene he came upon horrified him, turning his blood cold. Lodged inside a hollowed-out section of the tree was the shriveled body of a young girl no older than thirteen or fifteen at the most. The girl had been dead for a very, very long time judging by the state of her body. Mercutio looked over at Theo, wanting someone to validate what he saw but the younger man was in hysterical tears. He had never seen Theo so upset before. Not once had he ever seen him cry either.

The storm that tore through Wych Elm had uprooted more than just buildings and trees.