The Sparrow's Tale

"All those charges were dropped."

"Yes, your wife took care of them for you. Convinced her lovers to walk away. Now how do you think she does that?"

"Did you look at the body, detective Jenner," a frustrated Jim demanded.

"You going with the boogie man theory like your girlfriend."

"The corpse was shredded. It had claw marks from an animal."

"Very convenient. You'll have to tell me how you did that. Was it Laura's idea to pin it on some ancient spirit."

"Why would she want Pierce dead."

"To stop the building project. That's what the argument was about."

"There was no argument. Pierce was angry because he wanted the dig finished, but the building project was already dead. The ground won't sustain it."

"That's not what Mr. Munsen says. He's going forward," Jenner shot back.

"Well, why aren't you questioning him. He has gained a lot more than I have."

"Mr. Munsen and particularly his assistant have been very helpful. They tell us you are only on this project because of your wife, and you resented that and Mr. Pierce."

"So why kill Jake?"

"To spin this yarn about an Indian ghost. Clinton unearthed the bones, and as Ms. Brandt knows, Pierce is a decedent of one of the men who helped put those bones there in the first place as are you."

"What?"

"So, your new girlfriend didn't tell you that when she was persuading you to kill Clinton and Pierce."

The questioning went on all day and far into the night, but eventually, they had to let Jim go. Kathy had given him an alibi, and they could see no way that Laura could have committed the crime on her own.

Once released Wilson headed straight for the Canarsie site. He found Laura in the main tent by the artifacts. She was arranging a sleeping bag clearly intending to spend the night.

"You got room for two?" he asked.

"What are you doing here it's not safe?"

"Why you think the ghost will get me?" he asked with a laugh.

"It's not a joke. Something strange is going on here. It's a very odd coincidence that one of the dead men is related to a principle in the execution and the other dead man is the one who first disturbed the grave."

"Laura, you're a scientist how can you believe in ghosts."

"There are too many strange things and too many coincidences, like you James Wilson, a decedent of the man who wrapped her in his coat and Pierce who helped kill her."

"The Pierce family has, I admit, lived here since before the American Revolution, but you are wrong about me. My great, great grandfather arrived with his sister on a boat from Ireland at the start of the potato famine. His mother died on the ship crossing the Atlantic, and his father had died in Ireland before they sailed.

"The parentless children were placed in a Catholic orphanage run by nuns. The girl did well, but the boy ran away. He eventually made it to here, Canarsie and was taken in by a pig farmer named Wilson whose last name he took. So, you see I have nothing to do with this grave," as he finished, he moved toward her till he was standing looming over her."

"The spirit may not be that well informed about your lineage," she said looking up into his deep blue eyes.

"But she must know who's been digging up her bones. It's you who are not safe. "

"I have to stay here to protect the artifacts until we can move them. Redcloud's people could take them. I will stay with them until I know they are safe."

"And I will stay with you until I know you are safe."

"Why, James? What am I to you?"

"Don't play games with me. I know you felt it from the first day we met. I get deception enough at home. I don't need it from you."

"Then come out with it. What is it you felt, and what do you feel now?"

"THIS," he answered taking her into his arms cutting her protest off with a kiss." He lifted her five-foot body into the air as if she was no more than a bird's feather. He was not just tall, he was an incredibly strong man.

They were no further words between them. They weren't in a hurry. They undressed slowly and crawled beneath the bedding that she had set out. His mouth sought her sex. She moaned and tried to push him away.

"You don't need to do that," she said.

"But I want to," he replied.

When his tongue found her clit, she let out a quiet little scream, something between ecstasy and pain. He knew then she knew little of sex. Somehow it made his pleasure and her pleasure all the more intense. This was love they were making to each other not an act committed against each other.

Slow, natural, and beautiful was their coupling. Two people coming together. When it was over, they dozed two bodies with but a single soul. The sweet sounds of morning woke them before its light pierced the tent. She awoke wrapped in his arms to wake him with a kiss.

"Good morning," He said a smile on his lips. She kissed him melding her smile into his. Then she said, "we can't stay here forever."

"I know— what am I to tell my wife," he said bringing some reality into the tent and between them.

She pulled back from him puzzlement showing on her face. "Tell her goodbye," she said.

"I can't. Not just like that. I don't want to hurt her."

"Hurt her! That unrepentant slut. The question is why have you stayed with her."

"You don't understand she can't help herself. It's an addiction."

"fine she's an addict. You don't enable an addict. You staying with her is only keeping her from facing the consequences of her actions."

"You are probably right, but—"

"Choose!" she demanded getting up on her feet, "It's her or me."

He never got to choose for at that moment the tent flap flew open, and detective Jenner led in a squad of police.

"James Wilson and Sara Brandt, I'm placing you under arrest for the murders of Jake Clinton, Harris Pierce, and Thomas Munsen."

"Munsen?" they both said together.

Jenner smirked in response, "you'd be much more convincing if his body wasn't found torn to pieces not two-tenths of a mile from here."

****

The bail hearing was brief and to the point. The Prosecutor wanted them locked deep in the bowls of the Brooklyn Detention Center, but the defense attorneys prevailed on the Judge (after all there was no direct evidence yet), and bond was set. Kathy paid for Jim and Laura's employer for her.

On the Courthouse steps, Kathy embraced Jim kissing him and telling him she forgave him.

"It's not your fault. She's bewitched you."

"We didn't kill anyone. I didn't kill anyone. She didn't kill anyone." Wilson declared, and as he saw Laura come out of the courthouse, he called to her. Laura didn't turn or acknowledge him. She was with a group of well-dressed people that he assumed were from the program she worked for. Laura entered a town car parked at the curb, and the group drove off.

"You need to stay away from Ms. Brandt," The lawyer instructed.

"Why? We did do anything."

The lawyer gave a frustrated sigh and said, "It doesn't matter what you did. It will be what the prosecutor says you did. This is an unequal system. The prosecution normally wins right or wrong. Right now, you and Ms. Brandt are the only suspects. One of you is going to be convicted of these crimes. Let's try and see it is not you."

****

Jim had been driving for hours. The confrontation with Kathy had not been pleasant. She didn't understand why he was leaving her.

"It's that Indian Bitch," she accused.

"Only partly, I can't take it anymore. Each of your infidelities hurts more than the last. Clinton, Pierce, Munsen, and whoever, it goes on and on. It just never ends."

"But I'll stop. I promise, no more. It will just be the two of us."

"No, you've said that too often. I no longer believe you can change."

"Please," she begged, crying and pulling on him as he exited the house. She was collapsed in the doorway as he drove off.

He drove around for hours. He stopped for dinner and gas, and then he drove some more. He had been told not to go to her, but that was advice he could not and would not take. Finally, he gave in and headed for Canarsie and the excavation site. It was there he knew he would find her, the true love of his life. The only question was, did she love him?

It was past two a.m.; Jim could see the campfire south of the Parkway at the southern end of the archeological excavation. He took the next turn off and headed back along the service road until he was parallel to the dig. He turned his Toyota pickup south staying well west of the excavation. By the firelight, he saw the Subaru SUV half-hidden by the deep weeds.

He parked his truck about ten feet behind the Subaru and walked to where he could see a silhouette against the fire's light. Laura was sitting staring into the fire as if in a trance but turned as he approached.

"Not afraid of ghosts, I see," she said.

"Don't believe in them," he replied.

"Neither did the three dead men."

He could only grumble a response as he pulled over a crate to sit on. Laura was sitting cross-legged on the bare earth waring a deer skin dress with her hair in braids. She began to hum softly as if singing herself into a trance.

"Just so I know, do we expect a ghost to appear?" he asked.

"You need to be quiet. You read the Abraham Freeman's account. Your ancestor cursed those who disturbed the Sparrow's grave. We need to appease the spirits of the dead."

"And the living?" he queried.

"I think they should solve their own problems."

"I detect a note of condemnation."

"Why should I criticize you for remaining faithful to your tramp of a wife," she said the sarcasm all too evident.

"Yes, I understand you disapprove, but you must have some compassion."

"What now—you want my pity!"

"Not for me, but for Kathy. She can't help what she is, and it hurts her more than anyone."

"You, James Wilson, are an idiot," Laura said jumping to her feet and standing with her finger pointed in his face, "That woman doesn't love you, never has, and never will."

"I see," he said, "But you do love me." And with that, he grabbed her and pulled her into his lap as he kissed her. She tried to resist but merely spilled them both onto the sand. They struggled for a moment before passion took hold, and they became lost in a mutual embrace.

When they finally broke, she said, "What am I going to do? I love you. What am I to do?"

"Well, first you need to keep your facts straight. I'm not related to that Wilson remember."

"Yes, you are. Your great, great grandsire married the farmer's daughter, and she was the great-granddaughter of a Scottish army officer wounded in the battle of Fort Niagara and discharged when his regiment returned to New York. You see I looked you up."

"I see. So, I need to beware of the ghost," he said with a laugh.

"I'm going to take care of it," she said.

"How do you propose doing that?"

"I brought this dry wood and a sterno can. I've been the burning the fire all night getting it hot enough to burn the bones," she said.

"You're going to destroy them?"

"It's the custom of her people. They set the body above ground for a year on a hide stretched between poles. When the first spring comes after that year, they take the body down clean the bones and burn them to ashes which they spread over the ground. I will burn her bones and spread her ashes to release her from this world."

"You're serious," he said.

As if to prove it, she put more wood on the fire and watched it flame up.

"Ok, where are the bones?" he asked.

"You're sitting on them."

He stood up and opened the crate. Inside wrapped in what appeared to be birch bark were the bones in three bundles. Laura came and took a bundle from the crate. She placed it on the fire, and as she did, she spoke some words in a language he did not understand.

"What did you say?"

"It's a prayer asking the mother in heaven to guide her spirit to the next world."

It was nearly dawn when the last bundle was consumed by the flames.

Jim put his arms around Laura from behind and held her fast as they watched the fire burn down to ashes. He kissed the back of her neck and went to kiss her again, but before he could kiss her again, he was stopped short. "What was that?" he asked half expecting a ghost to appear from the mass of weeds to his right, but Tim Watson appeared with a gun in one hand and a craw hammer in the other.

"I hate to break this up," Watson said, the sarcasm clear in his manner, "Now if you two will move towards that lovely ditch you've dug."

"What's going on Tim?" Wilson asked.

"You're an engineer, Jim, good at solving problems surely you can figure this out," Tim taunted.

"You're the ghost!" Laura said, "But why?"

"Because he wants Kathy," Jim said.

"Bingo! I knew you'd get it."

"He's going to kill us over that slut," Laura protested.

"Watch your mouth, bitch," Watson said waiving the gun.

Jim began to laugh as he stepped backward away from the ditch, "you see he wants her, so he's eliminating the competition.

"You don't deserve her," Watson said taking a step closer.

"How wrong the detectives are. It's not about the money but lust. Yet, why kill me. I'm just the cuckold husband."

"She won't leave you. She says she loves you, but it is me that she should love. The man who truly loves her, but she'll see that when you are gone."

"Has a funny way of showing love for her husband. What makes you believe you can fare any better?" Laura put in.

"No one asked for your opinion, bitch," Tim said his hands had begun to shake.

To Jim, Timothy Watson appeared as a man losing his grip on reality. If he thought, he could keep a woman like Kathy by eliminating the competition, he was quite mad, or potentially the greatest mass murderer in history, but maybe he was both.

"We're going over to the ditch. Now move!" Watson said pointing the gun ominously.

"And if we say no?" Jim asked.

"Then I shoot her first."

Laura took a step forward, "Go ahead."

But Jim pulled her back, "Do as he says."

"Ok, but I have a question," Laura said, "How did you get the other to come here?"

Watson laughed," It was easy. I texted them pretending to be Kathy and proposing a meet here to avoid her jealous husband. They couldn't get here fast enough. Any more questions" he smirked.

"Yes, does she make you all stupid or does she only pick stupid men?"

They were facing east, and Tim had his back to the skyline were the first light of a summer's dawn was rising. The sparrows were rising off the land to begin their morning flight. At first just a few, but soon there would be hundreds dipping and curling at the Western end of the trench.

Jim led them in a sideways approach waiting for his chance. It came as the dawn broke the flock swopped low over them, and suddenly the birds soared down on them. Watson ducked, and Jim waiting for that moment jumped him. They struggled over the gun, and a shot rang out.

The two men separated and for a moment Laura couldn't tell who had been hit, but then Watson wobbled and fell to the ground. In the next instant, she found herself throwing her arms around Jim and crying.

"It's OK. We're ok now the sparrows saved us."

"No," she said, "look at the grown."

It was covered in feathers, and in the early-morning light, he could see they were of a different shade.

"Those are American sparrow feathers, not European. She saved us. The Sparrow saved us. The Little Bird That Sits in the Tree, the American Tree Sparrow."

Jim looked up, but the birds had disappeared. He looked in every direction, but the birds were gone.

"The mother in heaven sent them to lead her to the next world, "Laura solemnly declared.

At that moment, the engineer was unable to dispute her for the wind rose and spread the ashes of the fire over the damp earth, and he knew all too well that soon this land would lie beneath the water as the Sparrow had predicted.

*

I hope you liked the story. I liked writing it. Please don't write me about global warming. My personal opinion is that like evolution it is a fact not a theory. You can debate the causes, but facts are what remain even when you stop believing in them.