214 Palmer Street(41)
To get her bearings, she mentally divided the back property into thirds, knowing that she needed to dig in the back third of the lot line, where unfortunately the landscapers had piled mounds of scraped-off sod. Still, she wouldn’t have to go too deep to find what she was looking for. She imagined the solid sound of the shovel hitting the concrete blocks or the metallic ring of the shovel hitting against the door. Once that happened, it wouldn’t take too much more digging.
Sarah crossed the yard, taking careful steps on the uneven surface, wary of twisting an ankle. The moon was in full view tonight and bright, which helped since she preferred not to use the flashlight.
Starting in the center of the yard was her best bet. She found the back lot line, walked to the center, and moved forward six feet before digging. She used the pickaxe to flip some sections of sod to one side, then pushed the shovel into the ground. The soil was more packed in than she anticipated, so after each thrust, she stood on the shovel to get extra leverage.
After fifteen minutes she’d only uncovered enough soil to insert a child’s wading pool. With the back of her hand she wiped beads of perspiration off her forehead, then paused for a moment to look longingly at the house, the small light over the stove in the kitchen providing a warm glow through the patio door. Should she go back inside and regroup? No, she answered her own question with a shake of her head. She knew that once she unlaced her boots and went inside the house, she’d be tempted to stay. Call it a night.
Better to just keep going.
With each thrust of the shovel she hoped to hit concrete, but was disappointed each time. When the ground was too hard, she used the pickaxe to break it up. She’d read once that the Erie Canal, which went from New York City to the Great Lakes, had been dug almost entirely by hand. At the time, this factoid seemed like a fun bit of trivia; now, she had a new appreciation for what it had taken to do such a thing. Good lord, digging was backbreaking work. How had they done such a thing day in and day out, mile after mile? Her body was ready to give up after less than an hour. Her muscles would ache tomorrow, that was a certainty.
Sarah kept going, feeling the widening stain of sweat under each arm despite having applied antiperspirant earlier in the day. The mosquitoes knew she was here, making her glad she’d worn jeans and a thicker crew-necked T-shirt. She waved them away and let her hair fall forward as she dug, which shielded her face. Her arms weren’t as lucky.
She was hoisting a shovel of dirt when she heard the rustle of movement in the lilac bushes that defined the border. Glancing up, she spotted a large person stepping out from between the bushes only ten feet from where she stood. She froze, her heartbeat accelerating in fear. Flight or fight? She couldn’t be caught here, but if she fled now, what would happen to her things inside the house? Mentally she berated herself for not leaving her backpack on the rear porch where it could be easily grabbed in case of an emergency. She considered running out the back of the property, into the state park, and hiding. She dropped the shovel, ready to flee, when the person whispered, “Sarah?”
Her hand went to her forehead. “Phil?” Oh, thank God. The only person in the world she trusted to be here. He walked around a large mound of soil, and when he went to hug her, she held out a hand. “You don’t want to touch me. I stink.”
“Yeah, you do.” He chuckled.
“You shouldn’t be here.” It came out in a quiet hiss. “Someone could have seen you.”
“I know, I know,” he said. “But I was careful. I parked down the block and came in on Maggie’s side.”
Still, one of the neighbors could have noticed him walking down the street. Well, he was here now. There was no point in worrying about it. “Speaking of Maggie, how did that go?”
“Piece of cake. She’s now happily spending four days and three nights at an all-inclusive spa getaway in Madison. She didn’t even question how she won the contest.”
Didn’t even question it. Just got in the van and off she went. Sarah used to be that trusting. She remembered those days in a rosy haze. Always expecting the best of others. Never doubting what others had to say. Not overthinking it when good things came her way. The last year had taught her to be wary. Now she knew that people, even those you loved, lied. Such a shame to have harsh reality intrude on what used to be a happy and satisfied life. In her case, ignorance had been bliss. “I appreciate you doing that.”
He waved away a mosquito. “You paid for it. I just set it up.”
“Your friend who owns the spa didn’t think it was suspicious?”
“An anonymous gift for a deserving old lady? She thought it was sweet.” He tapped his chest. “I’m kind of a nice guy, you know.”
“I know. Thank you.”
“I still think you’re crazy for doing this,” he said, gesturing to the shovel on the ground. “How’s it going?”
“I haven’t found anything yet, but I only started an hour ago.” She picked up the shovel. “I’m fairly certain I’m in the right spot, though. With a little more work I should be there. I was just about to call it quits for now. I can finish up tomorrow.”
“During the day?”
Sarah nodded. “Now that Maggie’s gone, I decided I can take the chance. Digging at night is just too hard. The mosquitoes are awful and it’s hard to see.”