Peripheral Vision: A Supernatural Thriller(47)
Elizabeth was still in the river when the bodies were taken away. It was labeled self defense, and no charges were ever filed against her, but the incident and the gossip that followed made it impossible for her to return to teaching. She moved back in with her mother and began helping with the ranch. She found it refreshing to be outside, and away from people. It was much easier to only have to deal with the animals.
Things had changed since the evening of the murder. Eli had left big shoes to fill and the loss was felt on more than just the ranch. Grace tried to lose herself in the ranch work, but it's hard when you are reminded of the man you love, the man who is no longer living, by everything you see. Every fence post, every bail of hay, every unpaid bill, every cup of coffee, every....
Jason dealt with the loss of his father by becoming his father. There was no more baseball, no more high school games, no more. He decided that his time to be a man had come and when he turned 18, he enlisted in the Marines. There was no waiting around for the draft to come in and scoop him up by the heels. Jason was a man now, and men take it head on. By the spring of 1967, Jason was already taking fire in Kien Hoa and by the spring of '68 his flag was already folded in his mother's arms.
Michelle, who had been out of town on a school trip during her father's murder, predictably took the news the hardest. She blamed herself. “That bullet was meant for me.” She said on more than one occasion. She also stayed and helped out on the ranch, but was livid when her brother enlisted. “Please, Jay, don't do this.” And when the CNO's drove up the driveway that Spring morning to notify Grace of her late son, Michelle could take no more. She packed a small bag, took a framed picture of her twin brother, and hitched it to San Francisco.
When Grace passed away in 1970 from pneumonia, Elizabeth inherited the Bayard land and took over the day to day operations of the ranch. At this point however, the Bayard ranch business was on the down swing, and the unpaid bills were on the up. By 1980, Elizabeth was forced to sell most of the remaining cattle and almost three-fourths of the grazing land that at one time had blessed her father with profit after profit. She was able to keep the river house, however, and began privately tutoring high school students to make extra money.
Occasionally, she would receive a phone call from Michelle. Her younger sister was still living in California, but by this time she had relocated to the South Bay, married, and had a three-year-old daughter, named Sarah. Michelle was good about sending letters, and pictures of her family to Elizabeth. It made Lizzy extremely happy, and also at the same time broke her heart every time she would open a new letter from her sis. At this point in her life, Elizabeth had made the decision that she would not marry and would not have children. Although she had always wanted a child, she forced herself to forget that desire. After she lost her father in the kitchen that October night and then her brother to Vietnam, she promised herself that she would never bring a child into this world.... especially not a boy.
She knew the stories. She had been hearing them since she was a little girl, but had never taken them seriously. Eli had kept the stories pretty hush hush in his house, but the chatter around town and in the schoolyards wasn't something that was easily controlled. Eli was beloved within the community however, and while he was alive the story seemed to be in a state of remission. But after his murder, the diseased legend of the Bayard Curse returned to page one of the gossip circulation. Elizabeth was starting to believe. And after Jason was killed, she was convinced. The curse was real.
Chapter 15
Elizabeth Bayard – The later years
The refrigerator door in Elizabeth's kitchen was covered with pictures of her sister's daughter. It was a photo timeline of sorts, held up by colorful magnets and growing steadily every month or two. Elizabeth liked to keep the pictures in chronological order. She was aware of the strangeness of it all, but she liked being welcomed by the smiling face of the child when she awoke in the morning and before she went to sleep each night. Sometimes she would find herself just standing in front of the fridge, staring at the pictures for no particular reason at all; other than it made her happy. She liked to observe the subtle changes in each photograph of Sarah as her niece got a little bit older and older in each one.
There was, however, one photograph that Elizabeth always liked a little more than the others. In it Sarah, maybe 4 or 5 at the time of the picture, sat atop a red tricycle in front of her parent's house in Redondo Beach. The trike was facing away from the camera, but Sarah, with her long, dark hair-half covering one eye, was looking back over her shoulder at the camera. There was a sparkle in her eye and a smile on her rosy-cheeked face. It was easy to see that the child was well loved. Elizabeth always felt that this photograph spoke to her the most. It was almost as if the little girl in the photograph was smiling directly at her. It made her feel at peace.
In May of 1983, Elizabeth received a letter from her sister, asking if it would be alright if she was to bring her family to visit Elizabeth and the old ranch. Michelle wrote that John was getting some time off from work in August, and they had decided to take a cross country drive to Nebraska. She went on to say that since Lizzy had yet to meet Sarah, and John had yet to see where she'd grown up, that it would be the perfect opportunity for both. Elizabeth could barely contain her excitement. She re-read the letter twice more and then again out loud for good measure. She hadn't see her sister since the wedding in California almost eight years before. Michelle hadn't been back to the ranch since Jason died, and when was that '68? “And Sarah... I'll get to meet little Sarah.” Lizzy thought out loud with a smile. Smiles, unfortunately, never seemed to last very long in the Iktomi River Valley.