Fantastic Women

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Beth knew what Clina meant by pizen, but she hadn’t heard it for a long, long time. She thought that dialect had just about died out around the time her family’s reunions stopped. Her mind seemed to focus on the strangest of details today. A disembodied voice was telling her about poison in the mountains, and she was worried about the pronunciation?

“I’m glad to meet you, Clina, but I don’t understand any of this. What poison? You mean the water?”

“Same as before, you got to tell me. Could be in water by now, sure. Do a lot of folks still die right around there, Beth? More than you can count for?”

For the first time since she’d heard the strange singing in her head, Beth wasn’t confused. Digging into this book project showed her all too clearly how many mine disasters were in the county’s past, with quite a few killed in timber and railroad operations as well. It did seem far too many for such a small town.

“Well, yeah, I suppose they do.” Beth’s mind kept searching through her internal files, more crowded but better organized than the tiny room she was in. A lot of people died in automotive accidents close by, too. And she knew of more drownings than made sense with the small number of creeks and one river. “I hadn’t really thought about it, but Hartstown seems to be unlucky in a lot of ways.”

“Unlucky may have been the trouble way back at the start, but things have gone a ways past luck by now. A bad wrong’s been lodged down under the ground here, one that has to be made right. I been tryin’ to get through to someone on your side for so long I like to give up. Now that I found you, Beth, we got to get busy.”

“Hang on, I’m not even sure this is real,” Beth said. “Any of this. Even if I had any reason to believe you, why would I believe some poison was down in the mountains causing trouble?”

“Look around and answer that second part for yourself,” Clina said, her voice sharp and testy. “Might be able to help with the first part, though. Why’d you hear me in the first place?”

“Why… How the hell should I know?”

“Good girl, good girl.” Beth was sure she heard chuckling in her mind, raspy and satisfied. “Got some backbone after all. Jes tell me what you was doing when it started.”

“I was scanning these old slides,” Beth said, wishing she had something to scowl at. “Old photographs, pictures.”

“Now you’re on to it. Like as not I’m in one of those pitchurs.”

“Well, it’s a whole group of people. We couldn’t find any names for this one.”

“That don’t matter. Listen to me, now. We never did pitchurs less it was something big like a wedding or a funeral, maybe a baptizin’. What kind you got there?”

“A funeral,” Beth said, her heart pounding. “For a coal miner.”

“Makes sense. That’s who we mostly had em for, and way too many a those. Can you tell the name on the stone?”

Beth picked up the slide in shaking hands, making sure she had a firm grip on the sharp edges. This was one of the batch the historical society had rescued from someone’s basement. The years of damp hadn’t done the glass any favors.

“I’m sorry, that part’s too dirty and smudged.”

“Then why don’t you clean it?” Clina sounded like she was talking to a small child. “What’s the point of having a thing if you leave it too dirty to use?”

Beth snorted, feeling like her mother was lecturing her about keeping her room clean. The reason she’d accepted a few weeks ago when starting research for the book sounded pitifully thin to her ears. Some part of her knew Clina wouldn’t be happy with her explanation.

“For these I’m not supposed to. We have to leave the slides as they are so they won’t get damaged any further.”

“I never heered of such nonsense. If you’re wantin’ some kind of proof, you just have to get you some soap and break that little rule right now.”

Beth sat back in her chair, shaking her head. She didn’t want to lose access to the archives, but not doing simple cleaning had been driving her crazy. Probably not as crazy as never figuring out what was going on inside her own head would.

“Okay, Clina. I can’t use soap on these,” Beth said, laughing at the surreal argument. “Hang on, I’ve got some water right here.”

She picked up her water bottle and pulled out one of the tissues she always carried in such a dusty environment. Turning the slide over first to make sure she had the smooth side, not the coated side that held the photo, Beth tilted the bottle into the tissue for a second. She rubbed the slide in a circle big enough to include the tombstone, trying to make the edges uneven enough to look natural.

“I see…looks like Fekete.”

Clina was silent long enough that Beth started to wonder if the whole strange episode was over. Maybe she’d backed the delusion into a corner asking for proof she could only provide with her own eyes. She was glad she’d put the slide down when the voice spoke.

“That’d be Gez Fekete, died in 1908. I know the very pitchur you have there. Look to the left side of his stone, where the trees are, then count three people from the end. You’re lookin’ at Clina Jane wearin’ my finest.”

Beth leaned closer, then turned to the computer. She found the image in a few seconds and zoomed in on the mourners more than her eyes ever could have. The women and children stood together in a group behind dark-suited men. The third one in was a slender woman wearing a long white dress with a dark belt, standing with one hand on her hip. Beth saw pale skin and dark hair under a huge, white hat.

“I see you just fine, but that doesn’t really prove anything,” Beth said, feeling a little guilty, even if she was talking to herself. “I can see this for myself.”

“Sounds to me like I did good when I got through to you, Beth. You might have enough smarts to get this thang done. Tell you what, go look in whatever records you got there under Gez Fekete. He was from way off over the ocean, Hungary, I think. Even printed his last name before his first like they did over there. He married a girl from Bountyfield, and his five kids was born here. The last ‘un just a few weeks before he met his end under the ground. You’ll find his missus changed their name over to Black once he was gone.”

“Records,” Beth said to herself, closing her eyes. “They have census records next door at the courthouse, marriage records too. Anything else you think I’ll find while we’re at this?”

“Now I don’t mind one little bit that you don’t believe me. That’s why you’re the right one for a tough job like this. Go on and look up a thang or two on me, then.”

Beth leaned forward and wrote the dates, names, and places Clina gave her. She didn’t know whether verifying everything would make her feel better or worse.

“I’ll go check this out.” Beth put all the equipment on standby and picked up her bag and jacket. “I’m assuming I’ll still be able to hear you over there, so you’ll know how it’s going.”

“You have right many questions only you can answer. Seems to me you can hear me best when you’re with those pitchurs, but I reckon we’ll find out.”