Family History by R.W. Wallace

Author:R.W. Wallace [Wallace, R.W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Varden Publishing
Published: 2022-10-13T00:00:00+00:00

Five

Clothilde is looking up at me from the bottom of the grave when I join the commotion. “She’s fine,” she says, and I can tell from the lack of mischievous glint in her eye that she’d been genuinely scared for the little girl. “She’s mostly just scared.”

The little girl is screaming her heart out in her mother’s arms, large tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. The mother seems to be taking as much comfort in her daughter’s arms as she’s giving. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s sitting in the fresh dirt in total disregard of her pastel pink jeans, rocking her daughter and touching her everywhere, searching for wounds.

“I think she’s all right,” she says, her voice cracking.

“Thank God,” Sylvie sighs. “Why weren’t you watching her?”

“I was watching her!” Audrey screams. “But you can’t watch a kid every second of every day. She wanted to pick a flower from the next grave over and tipped over backward into this nightmare.”

I jump down into the grave to join Clothilde behind the mother and child. Lebrun has stayed by the Lambert grave and although I can’t be one hundred percent certain, I think his eyes are glued to the name of the original Lambert, the one who died just a month or two after him.

Mamie Lambert takes charge of the situation. With a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, she addresses her granddaughter. “Accidents happen with toddlers all the time, there’s no way to avoid it. We all do our best, as I know you do, Audrey.”

Sylvie visibly takes a deep breath, her eyes closed. “I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“Now.” Mamie Lambert looks around the empty graveyard. “How do we get you out of there?”

Getting the little girl out would have been easy—if she’d accept letting go of her mother. While Audrey can reach the top of the grave with her hands, she can’t pull herself out, especially with her girl clinging to her like a monkey. There’s no real handhold or stepping stones and the one time she tries to kick a step into the dirt, part of the wall falls down.

“We’re going to have to call for help,” Audrey says to the two women watching her from the foot of the grave. “I can’t risk bringing the walls down on the both of us.”

Audrey sits back down in the dirt with her back against a wall. Clothilde and I sit down next to her. She might not know we’re there, but people can sometimes subconsciously realize we’re there or even integrate some things we say to them.

The little girl has stopped crying and is currently pulling on her mother’s hair, shoving it into the dirt. The fact that Audrey doesn’t even seem to mind shows how wiped out she is.

Sylvia is on the phone with someone, explaining the situation, when the little girl lets out a happy gurgle. She holds something in her chubby little hand and holds it up in front of her mother’s face.

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