Evergreen by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 10

Any town of any size keeps records, regardless of how long it’s been on the map. Evergreens town hall was located on Main Street. It was small and unimposing with a staff of one. But, their records archive stretched back decades. Births, deaths, baptismal, census and town meeting records represented the bulk of its storage. They had, however, stepped into the twenty-first century with digital files and microfilm viewers. But, the books still lined the shelves. Documents and clippings still filled folders and file cabinets. The clerk had organized everything down to a science and had been working there for most of her life. Even the Mayor had given more responsibility to her than expected.

Monday morning brought the usual tired faces as the students of Evergreen High School made their way to the morning’s first class. Most of the seniors attended only because it was mandated by the state and there was nothing else to do anyway. Having never been involved in the world outside Evergreen, nearly all of them saw little future beyond the mill. Bobby sat through the day’s classes with Katie occasionally flirting with him from across the room. Yet, as much as he tried to focus on the subject at hand, his mind was elsewhere. In spite of his overly cautious mind, he had become increasingly curious about the old house in the woods. But, he wanted to approach his curiosity with a degree of distance by collecting information and after classes ended for the day, Bobby hurried down to Town Hall. Upon entering, he briefly questioned the clerk as to any records pertaining to the house, or its previous residence. The clerk, now in her golden years gave him an odd look as though it was somehow a forbidden issue - something never to be discussed.

“Not many people come asking about that old place,” she said.

“Why not?” Bobby asked.

Her expression turned to a mix of sternness and anger. “They just don’t,” she answered. “Now, you’d be best to go home and do your schoolwork. Don’t be nosing around things you don’t understand.”

But, he wanted to understand. He wanted to know more and the clerk’s reaction only fueled his curiosity.

At that moment, it suddenly occurred to him that he had never heard anyone talk about the house. At the same time, he found enough courage to be insistent about what he wanted.

“Well, I want to know,” he said.

The clerk continued glaring at him.

“Well, we don’t have much, just some land papers and legal documents. Nothing you’d be interested in.” Bobby held his ground.

“I’d like to look anyway.”

He surprised himself with the firmness of his voice. “There’s no harm in looking, is there?” The clerk was resolute in her refusal and walking out from behind the counter she slowly went to the front door and flipped the ‘open’ sign that hung in the window next to it. “Office is closed,” she said. “Now, get on home!” She was in her seventies and likely the oldest living resident in town. She had lived long enough to see the passing of many events. Normally a person of pleasant demeanor, she knew almost everyone by name. Her name was Emily. As with anyone else, Emily was known to have a few bad days and on those days, people generally stayed clear of her. But, in spite of these occasional changes, her mind remained lucid and she was still able to attend to the task of running the Town Hall. There was one other peculiar thing about her. Emily was old enough to know what happened in the gray, sun-bleached house in the woods and something about it had upset her. But as far as the town was concerned, Emily’s memory stretched back far enough that some older residents thought of her as the keeper of not only Evergreen’s history, but she was the only person in town whose memory of the house was even close to being complete. Most people suspected this, because Emily refused to talk about it and when even slightly questioned about it, would fly into a rage, harshly chastising those who presented the slightest degree of curiosity - angry, almost to the point of seeming to be possessed. Bobby stormed out the door and crossing Main Street, angrily muttered to himself. “Fucking bitch,” he said quietly.

He wasn’t normally given to reactions of anger. In fact, he had spent a great deal of his young life unable to express anger. His parents were never able to understand why, but Bobby continued on his way home, thinking that there must be another way to obtain the information he sought and upon arriving, Bobby went straight to his room and turned on his laptop. Not many people in Evergreen had access to the internet, with many shunning it entirely as a form of media that not only brought out the worst of the world but displayed openly to anyone wanting to gawk at the expense of human suffering. As a senior, the school insisted that its students learn computer skills. So, when the governor gave out laptops to Maine’s high school students, Bobby was one of the first in line. Still, academics was not his strong point, but he enjoyed exploring the world without having to leave the insulating isolation of Evergreen. He searched for hours using several keywords. There wasn’t much information available for something that happened some fifty years ago - especially, in a small town in northern Maine. But as the night crept over the town, Bobby stumbled upon an article in the form of the scanned newspaper clipping from the Portland Press Herald. Any details of its origin had not been listed and the article was very brief. It documented the murder of Arthur Redfield at the hands of his wife Cecilia. According to the article, she was fifteen years his senior, but no arrests were ever made as both were found dead in the attic. It was believed that she had suffered a mental lapse of sorts, stabbing him deeply in the chest. However, her cause of death had never been determined. But coming from a place like Evergreen, the case would be far from infamous.

He used the couple’s names in continuing his search but found nothing. Bobby now assumed that any further information would be held in one of two places: the town clerk’s office or the state archives in Augusta and Augusta was hours away. The only real information the article provided was the names of the deceased. But, it was enough to prompt even more of Bobby’s curiosity and after printing out several copies of it, he slipped one into his notebook. Having even the smallest bit of information might convince the town clerk to let him search for more records. Being the only murder to take place in Evergreen over the last fifty years, Bobby was certain the clerk’s office held more information than just an old newspaper clipping. What he didn’t know was that he was not the only person looking into the house’s history.