Thoreau at Devil's Perch (32 page)

“We shall soon see,” he said calmly, but his eyes glowed bright with expectation.

He laid the dirt ball down, and from it we pried loose clots of dark, dried earth mixed with leaves. It was like peeling an onion as we slowly revealed a human skull. A wedge of stone was deeply imbedded in the cracked frontal bone. Thoreau spit on the stone and rubbed away the dirt, revealing the pink blush of quartz crystal.

Speechless, we stared at each other with wide eyes for a moment, and then got to work spitting and rubbing some more, until a jagged blaze of black stone running through the pink quartz was revealed.

We sat back and gaped at the ax head Henry had described during his hypnotic trance. The handle once attached to it by sinew or leather had long ago dropped away.

Henry brushed away more dirt from the face of the skull, fully revealing the eye sockets, strong jaw line, and a full set of teeth that any modern man in Massachusetts would be most proud to own.

“He died a good, honorable death,” Henry said. “And I must have died that day too, for I did not go back to retrieve my treasured ax.”

We sat in the skull's company for a good long piece of time as a breeze cooled us and the wavelets on the pond reflected sunlight back at us. We heard the whistle of the steam engine and the rattle of cars shunted along from Boston toward Concord station past the west end of the pond.

“I have the proof now,” Henry stated serenely. “I have lived before.”

The realization that Julia's recollection of a past life with me was most likely also true overwhelmed me, and I could not reply. We sat in silence for a good quarter hour more, staring at the split skull and then out at the sky and down at the curving green shores of Walden Pond.

Henry broke the silence with a surprising directive. “We cannot speak of this to anyone, Adam.”

“Why in heaven's name not? Why not tell the world? It is joyous news!”

“Only if it is believed,” Henry said. “But it will not be. And we will forever be puppets in an endless whirlwind of claims and dismissals concerning what we have found here today. We will be portrayed as charlatans promoting a fantastical theory to hoodwink the gullible for fame and profit. It will be just too easy for folks to conclude we planted the skull down there for the purpose of making this claim.”

I had to agree with Henry's assessment of the situation. As much as he wants to return to his cabin and write in peace, I want to practice medicine and live in peace with Julia. Therefore, no one can hear about this.

“The skull is yours if you want it,” Henry told me.

Knowing how much he treasured Indian artifacts, I was most surprised. “Don't you want it, Henry?”

“No. Explaining how I came to acquire it would involve lying, which I am loath to do. And now that it has been proven to me that I existed as an Indian in another life, I need consider it no further. It is my present life that delights me. I am content to experience one world at a time.”

I felt much the same way, and we decided the most respectful thing we could do was to return the skull with its ax to its grave. So we cast our great discovery back into the crevice and went on our way. At Henry's cabin we shook hands in parting.

“Have a good trip,” I said. “Take care in the wilds of Maine.”

“In wildness is the preservation of the world, yet one must travel farther and farther to experience it,” he replied, staring dolefully at the railroad tracks on the opposite bank of Walden Pond. He looked back at me and managed a smile. “Should I bid you to take care too, Adam? No, I think not. Instead I bid you to go confidently in the direction of your dreams and live the life you imagine.”

And so I will. For I shall soon be heading in the direction of Julia, to tell her that we can now live the life we have only dared imagine. We can embrace without caution or restraint. We can enjoy each other completely without fearing the results of our conjugal bliss.

When I returned to the house I paused at the office doorway to watch Grandfather apply leeches to Justice Phyfe's leg veins to assuage the pain of his gout. Phyfe sighed with relief, evidence of the power of suggestion upon the body rather than the efficacy of bleeding as far as I am concerned. Even so, I was happy to see that Grandfather felt fit enough to practice his own brand of medicine again.

I went to the kitchen and devoured most of the apple pandowdy Gran had brought by earlier. As I masticated I ruminated on my conversation with her this morning. She had come by to inquire how Julia was faring after her horrible ordeal with Upson, and when I informed her that Julia had sailed off to Europe, Gran looked stunned.

“For
good?
” she asked me.

“There's no good in it, but yes, that is her intention. I frightened her off by proposing marriage.”

Gran regarded me somberly. “You look mighty bleak, dearie. Mighty bleak indeed.”

“I am desolate. My heart urges me to pursue Julia, yet my conscience cautions me that I should let her go. As much as it pains me to admit it, I know she would be better off marrying somebody else.”

Gran took umbrage. “Ain't nobody better than you, my boy. You come from good strong Tuttle stock.”

“Do not forget I am also half Walker and so is Julia. Therefore, our future happiness together is cursed.”

“No, it ain't,” Gran said in a dismissive, flat tone.

“But surely you realize that we cannot have a natural marital relationship, Gran. Because of the bloodline we share, engendering children would be wickedly reckless.”

“ 'Twas yer ma who was reckless,” Gran muttered.

“How?”

“Never you mind,” Gran said and made her way toward the door.

I walked out to the back porch with her. “How was my mother reckless?” I persisted.

“When she climbed that consarn tree to catch a swarm of wild bees, was that not reckless? If she had taken more care, you would not have been left a bereft orphan.”

“I am grateful I had you and Grandpa Tuttle to raise me up, Gran. I had a happy childhood.”

“I want you to be happy
now,
Adam.”

I shook my head. “I cannot be. Not without Julia as my wife.”

“Well, if spunk and gumption are what yer lookin' fer in a mate, I reckon she's got plenty enough to suit you. She acted most bravely up on Devil's Perch. And she acted most unselfishly by leaving you yesterday. It has always been clear to me that she loves you. But I did not think she would make you a good wife, what with her ambitions and independent ways.”

“She is the only woman I will ever want.”

“Then I reckon it was mighty wrong of me to deceive her.” Gran lowered her eyes and stared at her clenched, boney hands. “I encouraged Julia's belief in a falsehood, Adam. Now it grieves me to see you so miserable without her. But the truth can set things right.”

“The truth about what?”

“Yer father.” Gran heaved a sigh and continued. “You was born on the wrong side of the blanket, my boy. You don't have a drop of Walker blood in you.” She waited for my reaction. All she got was a puzzled frown. “Owen Walker did not sire you, Adam.You was begotten whilst he was off whalin'.”

“Are you sure of this, Gran?”

“Sure as shootin' Oh, how we prayed together, my Sarah and me, that Owen's ship would come in early so she could claim the babe growin' in her belly as his. And his ship did land early enough, thank the Lord, to pass you off as a legitimate Walker. 'Nuff said.”

Hardly enough said to satisfy me. “But who
is
my father, Gran?”

“Another mariner. Not a whaler though. A riverboat captain. Yer Ma met him when she went out to visit my sister Hattie in St. Louis. Fool that I was, I urged her to go to cheer her up. She was so sad when Owen was gone. And he was gone far too often, Adam, and for far too long at a time. I ain't claimin' it was his fault, mind you.Yet I cannot fault my daughter entirely. She was very young and lonely. And like I said, she was reckless, God bless her.”

“Why did you not tell me this sooner?”

“I promised yer ma I would never tell you. Or tell anyone. Even yer Grandpa Tuttle didn't know. Nor yer Walker grandparents, of course.”

“Doc Silas has always claimed I am the spitting image of his son.”

“You don't look nothin' at all like Owen Walker, Adam. But we only see what we want to see, and the old doc wants to see his lost son in you.You gonna tell him the truth?”

“I don't know,” I said. And I still do not know. My mind is too filled with joyous thoughts of reuniting with Julia to consider much else.

“Do you forgive me for not speakin' up sooner?” Gran asked me, clenching her hands again.

My response was to wrap my arms around her and lift her off her feet in a hearty hug. “You have made me the happiest man in the world.”

“So you don't mind about not being a Walker?”

“I am still who I was before you told me, Gran. Nothing has changed about me except my determination to marry Julia as soon as I can.”

I shall start preparing for my voyage directly. Before long I will be with Julia again, and, as my dear, reckless mother's spirit whispered to me when I was in such dire straits,
all shall be well.

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Copyright © 2013 by B. B. Oak

 

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ISBN: 978-0-7582-9023-6

 

eISBN-13: 978-0-7582-9024-3
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First Kensington Electronic Edition: November 2013