Everyday Ghosts by James Morrison

Author:James Morrison
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: GemmaMedia
Published: 2011-11-12T22:00:00+00:00

13

The walls around him looked barer than ever. They were huge and thick, made of stone. They were meant to hold in the warmth of a living flame and to close out the corruptions of the world. Pete had spent his life praying for grace. He saw that this amounted to one long plea for help that never came, and might have been of little use to him if it had. Now he did not know what to pray for. The thought that he could ever have left the world behind seemed like the vainest of hopes.

When Louis came to take Neb into the valley to bring back the wood, Pete was waiting. He was hiding in the loft. Neb knew he was up there, but she was frightened all the same. Pete could tell by the way she drew back. The barn door was kept open because it jammed if it was shut, so they could both see him coming. Louis was rough in harnessing her. She wouldn’t budge at first, and Louis pulled with more force. The bridle pressed hard against her jaw. She brayed a little but stepped forward. Pete watched as Louis led her from the barn. She moved with halting steps. Pete climbed out of the loft and watched from the doorway as he led her down the hill.

Louis set to work on a tree that was already fallen. He chopped the wood in hard, clean strokes and stacked the split logs in the wheelbarrow. Pete watched from behind a tree. He was surprised when he heard Louis begin to sing a hymn, the same one over and over as he worked. “I rest my weary soul in thee,” he sang. “I give thee back the life I owe, that in thine ocean depths it flow, may richer, fuller be.” The notes he sang heaved as he swung the axe, but the hymn was slow and peaceful. The longer he worked, the quieter his song grew.

By the time he was finished, the cart was overflowing. It was a great burden. Neb took a few steps, then stopped. The load was too heavy. She needed water to go on. She planted her hooves on the ground. The dark look came to Louis’s eyes then, and the trace of a mean smile quivered his mouth. “You wicked creature,” he said under his breath. “God damn you.”

It was the first time Pete had heard him speak. It was different from his singing voice, with its clear, pure tones. In speech, his voice was husky and hoarse.

Seething, Louis bent to snatch a thick branch from the ground, but by the time he stood up again, Pete was there, between him and Neb. Pete grabbed the stick from him and threw it far away into the woods. They faced each other. Then Louis turned to where the axe lay nearby. Neb let out a little whinny. Louis hoisted the axe over his shoulder and turned back to Pete.

“You broke your vow,” said Pete.

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