Mary Hollow

Even when I was dreaming, I knew better than to let the crow through the window, no matter how much it pecked on the glass. That’s how people die, Gram said, chopping fat for the neighbor’s colicky baby, lettin’ Death in like damn fools. She taught me better than that. And right now, I knew I was dreaming. 

Peck, peck, peck. 

It didn’t matter what kind of weather was out-- hot and humid or the worst thunderstorm to roll across God’s green mountains. The weather, the cold, didn’t bother Death so much, wasn’t a picky feller. Bothered me though. I hated the cold, and sometimes, it was all I felt. Between the morgue (or what passed as one at the med center down near Russell past the ridge) and whatever the hell this place was, I hadn’t experienced a warm day in years. A nurse coroner and a baby touched by Death. Gram’s voice was iron-strong, He mighta touched ya, but he didn’t take ya. And he won’t.

Lightning flashed. The crow’s feathers ruffled, sticking out like a brooding hen. 

Another shiver. Right. I was cold. It didn’t matter that I was inside the house. The same house they all met me in, an abandoned company house out on Hay Ridge we used to drive by on the way to school through the old coal camp. It was the only house still standing with the chimney. I’d never been in it, wasn’t as brave as my cousin had been when she ducked underneath the busted door and climbed through. She’d wanted aesthetic photos for her Instagram. I should’ve followed in her footsteps because she made a fair sight more than I did, even with my RN. A nurse coroner working with FEMA lately as ironic as that was. Still yet though, I didn’t think it was all that fair that Gram wore out both our hides when all I did was stand watch.

Peck, peck, peck. 

The rain was outside, but me and my nightgown were soaked to the bone. The ghost of icy rain splattered against my skin until droplets slid down my legs, dripping onto the floor. I couldn’t feel my toes against the gnarled floorboards, but I knew if I moved too fast I’d come away with splinters. My breath sent a white fog in the air. 

Everyone I met here were all trying to cross, trying to tell me what happened to them while they was here. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked at the bird outside the window. I didn’t know whose house this used to be, why I always ended up here. But that didn’t really matter. My look turned into a glare, and the bird cocked his head. 

“I just laid down from four back-to-back twelves at the hospital. I’ve done already been cleanin’ up your work. Seven, this week. Gram’s got pneumonia. And you couldn’t’a waited another few--,”

A floorboard creaked behind me. My heart jumped, and a different kind of chill shot down my back and arms. Gram called it a death chill. Not for the first time, I wished she coulda called it something-- anything else. But this was different. Something I’d only felt a couple times. A death chill from someone fighting to keep from leaving. 

The rain pattering against a blue, rusted tin roof stopped, droplets hovering mid-air over the window. I thought I’d suffocate when even the air stopped moving. 

Peck, peck, peck. 

The crow started again at the window. It was the only sound. 

Shoes backed up against my bare heels, loose linen fabric brushing against my calves, but no breath down my neck. Never breath. I fumbled for the rosary around my wrist, praying to my namesake. 

“Hail Mary, Full of Grace,” my eyes clenched shut. “The Lord is with thee,”

Peck, peck, peck. 

The air shook and my voice with it, “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,” a building hum sent the awfulest pressure against my eardrums until blood, hot and sticky, ran down the sides of my neck. I screamed.

“Jesus,”

And that thing didn’t like that. The air caught up with time, swirling a whirlwind that threw me across the room, rolling across a table. The hum rose into a muffled shriek, and I knew who it--she-- was. I knew, and my arms went to cover my ears as I curled into myself, tucking my knees into my soaking nightgown. 

I grabbed my other wrist, thumb sliding across the rosary beads, “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now!” 

Over the uproar, Peck, peck, peck. 

“Damn you, Mary! Wake up!” Gram’s yell surrounded me, shaking the walls. I knew I would have to look into its eyes. Did that make it real? I didn’t want this one to be real. “Get to your feet, and wake up, girl!” 

I opened my eyes, a sweep of dust encircling a pair of laced, polished church shoes. “I don’t want to know…I don’t want to know,”

“Get up,”

The world turned sideways as I was righted up onto my feet. The sudden silence deafened me. Ears ringing, my eyes opened.

“And at the hour of our death,” she finished for me. “Amen,”

I whimpered, “No, no, I’m not ready,” my neck twisted, sneering at the bird outside. “I’ve given all of them to you! Every single one warned that you were comin’! So why don’t I get the same?”

“That’s how I taught you,” she said with a healer’s practiced understanding, an inverted compassion. “Wasn’t it?”

Stringy brown hair looked just like mine, sticking wetly to an anguished face with hollowed-out eyes. Gnarled hands reached out, mouth dropping into an unearthly howl. But the shrieking that shook the walls, shattering all the windows, wasn’t hers. It was mine. 

The crow landed on my shoulder as I fell. 

-O-

I was dripping the sweat when I bolted upright in my bed, throat scratched to hell from screaming. It took a hot second for breath to come easily. I grabbed my chest. I never knew why people did that, thinking they could will their hearts to cooperate. Guess I couldn’t give anybody shit about it anymore. Scared to death. Wouldn’t that have made his life easier?  Death having a life, now that was a sight. I wanted to laugh. I would have if my lungs had cooperated. 

The twin bed next to mine squeaked, weight shifting against old box springs. My head shot up. 

“Gram?” I jumped out of bed when my name came out like a question, bleary and half asleep.  “I’m sorry,” my rosary was a familiar weight, wrapped around my wrist. “I’m sorry, it was just that dream again,”

Peck, peck, peck. 

My heart jumped. The dogwood tree’s little branch banged against the window behind the curtain. “Geez, Louise,” 

The covers wavered on the other bed. I smiled, shaking my finger, “Don’t you dare start to laughin’ at me. Because I’ll start to laughin’ and we’ll never get back to sleep,”

I sat on the side of her bed, adjusting her pillow, helping her raise up and settle back down. “The flu’ll turn to laryngitis on us if we’re not careful,”

Peck, peck, peck. 

I kissed her forehead. No temperature. I pulled up the heated blanket. 

Peck, peck, peck. 

“Don’t worry. He can’t get in. No birds comin’ in the house. I’ll remember this time. I promise I’ll remember,”

Gram’s stringy brown hair that looked just like mine and hollowed-out eyes didn’t bother me anymore. 

I smiled and turned out the light. 

“Goodnight,”