Page 28 of Stay Buried

Pearl nodded and left the room.

“It was the knackerman,” Clarice explained breathlessly.

My uncle and I exchanged looks of disbelief, but there was something else there in my uncle’s face and my own: apprehension, even fear.

“I was in the front room, writing a letter to my sister,” Clarice went on, the words tumbling out. “And suddenly he was there, right behind me! Must have let himself in the kitchen door. And, well, he was… he was stark naked.” She looked terribly flustered. Her pale cheeks colored. “I swear to you—not a stitch of clothing on! Filthy and wet and dripping blood. Like an animal.”

“And you’re sure it was him?” I asked. “You’re sure it was the knackerman?”

Clarice lifted her chin, gazing at the ceiling with a wince. “It was him all right, but he seemed… different. I demanded to know what he was doing in my home, but it was like he didn’t hear me. He kept limping toward me. His breathing was off. He made a funny chugging sound, like a train.”

As Uncle Thomas pulled back the last bit of fabric, I saw the wound beneath the bandages and hissed in a sharp little intake of breath.

It was a human bite; a very deep one that had torn away bits offlesh and left a ragged edge of skin. I could make out the tooth marks. I tried to keep my face calm, not show my own horror. My uncle was stone-faced, calm as ever, as he inspected the wound.

I did what I always do when faced with something incomprehensible: I pulled out my notebook and pencil, to keep busy.

March 11. Mrs. Stoddard. Human bite wound. Says the knackerman attacked her.

Mrs. Stoddard continued her story. “I picked up the poker from the fireplace and struck him in the shoulder. But he did not slow. In fact, he did not seem to feel the pain! I struck him again, right in the head as hard as I could, but he lunged at me, grabbed me by the arm. We struggled for a long moment and then he sank his teeth into my arm.” She began to cry.

“That’s enough, Clarice,” Mr. Stoddard comforted his wife. “You needn’t go on.”

“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Stoddard said. “What would make him do a thing like this? I’ve met the knackerman. We’ve done business with him for years—he comes and sharpens our knives. We’ve bought snowshoes and tallow from him. He’s not the most civilized man, and his accent makes him difficult to understand at times, but he’s polite enough. The man who attacked me today, he was not the man I’ve known all these years. This man, he was… a monster!”

There was a pounding at the front door downstairs and we all jumped.

“I’ll see who it is and let the doctor and Frankie fix you up, my darling,” Mr. Stoddard told his wife, patting her gently on the shoulder.

I wanted to tell him to be careful, to not open the door.

We soon heard men’s voices from downstairs, quiet at first, then raised. This was followed by feet on the steps coming up. Pearl returned with a basin of water, clean cloths, and a glass of brandy.

“You’re a love,” Mrs. Stoddard said to her daughter. She glanced nervously into the hall. “Who was at the door?”

“Luther St. James and Reverend Davies with a group of men,” Pearl reported. “They came to see how you are. Father’s talking with them.”

Thomas took the brandy and handed it to Mrs. Stoddard. “You drink this now,” he said. “It’ll settle your nerves.”

She held it in shaking fingers and gulped it down.

I took the empty glass and she touched my hand. “Thank you, dear. You’re so kind. So good to help your uncle like you do.”

I nodded at her and smiled.

“I remember you when you were just a little girl,” she said, her hand still on mine. “How you and my Pearl would play for hours, just lost in each other’s company. Such vivid imaginations you girls had. You’d be whispering and giggling together all afternoon. Do you remember?”

“I do,” I said, keeping my eyes on Mrs. Stoddard, not daring to look over at Pearl. I felt my face and ears redden.

Uncle Thomas stayed completely focused on the task at hand, cleaning and dressing the wounds on Mrs. Stoddard’s arms, taking special care to flush the bite wound. Clarice winced, and Pearl came and stood next to the bed, taking her mother’s hand.

I handed Uncle Thomas each item he needed before he even had a chance to ask for them. I chanced an occasional look at Pearl, but she did not return my gaze.

It was oddly thrilling, being there in Pearl’s house with her, our secret a living and palpable thing; a dangerous thing that no one else must ever get wind of. I did my best to focus on tending to Mrs. Stoddard, but all I could think was how very much I loved her daughter, the weight of the secret between us seeming to suck all the air out of the room.

“You rest now,” Thomas told Mrs. Stoddard once he’d finished the bandaging. “You’ve had a terrible shock. I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow. We’ll change the dressings then.”

“Please see our guests out, Pearl,” Mrs. Stoddard said, and Pearldutifully kissed her mother’s hand, then let go of it.