Unbury Carol(44)

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It’s its own condition, the second doctor said. It’s very different from a coma.

This doctor knew better than the first.

But Carol already knew all this. Only she was in a coma and couldn’t tell James what she should have told him already.

When she woke, she did.

I die. Many times, I die.

She was on a cot in the doctor’s home. Moxie sat in a chair beside her.

How often does it happen?

There is no pattern. But I heard you in there, James. Heard you carrying me to the first doctor’s and now here.

I was scared, Carol.

I know.

Eventually the doctor joined them.

In the coma, Carol, your pulse beats slow enough that had I not held my finger longer than I normally would, I wouldn’t have known it existed. Your flesh has color but you do not stir, and even your breathing was very difficult to detect. I don’t entirely blame the last doctor for what he told James. I might have thought you were dead myself.

Carol took Moxie’s hand.

I should’ve told you.

Why didn’t you?

I was worried it would scare you away…



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…Come on, the girl was saying, come meet my friend…meet my friend Carol…

Moxie was a young man, but this wasn’t the first tavern he’d been in. It was just the most fun.

Come on…she’s over here…her name is Carol…you’re going to fall in love with her…

He’d been standing against the wall, holding his glass, grinning with the other young men and women, listening to the musicians playing on stage. He’d already had enough whiskey to know he was drunk and the dark-haired girl, beckoning him, made him nervous.

What are you saying?

But she couldn’t hear him over the music and Moxie pointed at himself, questioning.

Me?

Come on, she said, waving, smiling, come on…

Moxie adjusted his hat and followed the girl through the bodies. She crossed the bar to the other side where the boys played guitars or piano, beat hand drums, and screamed rather than sang. Moxie spilled some of his drink on his shirt on the walk, and by the time he caught up he was wiping it down with his hand.

The dark-haired girl turned her full face to him and pointed to another girl standing against the wall, light-brown hair, smart eyes, sweating there, too, like the rest of them…



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…Not like this, Moxie said, answering whether or not he’d experienced such a kiss before.

Carol smiled. There was something extra innocent about this man. It was as if he couldn’t help but speak what he thought.

Well I’m glad to hear it, she said, running her fingers through his black hair. She kissed him again and Moxie, moving on instinct and doing what he wanted to do, took her face in his hands and kissed her back. They sat this way, the blue moonlight coming through the crack in the barn doors washing them, a long time…



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…Mother doesn’t like the name Howltown, never has, she said. She just calls it “that place.” But that title frightens me more. It’s too close to the truth. For that place is certainly not this one…



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…Don’t worry, Carol said, smiling, turning to him as the snow fell on her hair. Hattie’s going to like you. Why wouldn’t she? I do.

Moxie followed her out of the coach and walked with her up the long drive to her mother’s house. Hattie, Carol said, was something of an inventor. Spent all her time tinkering. Always planning, always building.

You’re bound to see gears and levers all over the workroom floor. Ignore them if you want to. Or don’t. Ask her about them. Maybe she’ll even tell you about the Box.

The Box?

Carol smiled.

Like I said, she’s always tinkering with something new.

The ground was frosted but the air was warm, the snowfall having broken the spell. He held the gate for Carol and didn’t see as her mother peered out through the front window. When they reached the door, Hattie opened it and Moxie was introduced. They stepped inside and Hattie said, Why, you look like a gentleman outlaw if ever I saw one.

But she didn’t show James the workroom. Asked Carol not to bring it up again…



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…Silas! Moxie screamed, pounding the door again. Silas! Open the door! She’s dead, Silas! Carol’s dead!…



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…They were buying her a hat the first time she collapsed in front of him. Carol was at the mirror, angling her head, and Moxie was telling her they all looked good because they did. She made him try on ladies’ hats and laughed as he imitated her mother. The salesman shooed him away and brought Carol a pile of fresh ones. She said, Ooh, that one looks good! Then she fell…



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…Not like this, Moxie said, answering Silas, who had asked him if he’d ever felt this way before.

Well, you’re in for a lifetime of work, I’m afraid. Love isn’t easy.