BEULAH FINISHED SEWING the last tablecloth and folded it neatly, then placed it in a box with the others. She would ask Annie to carry it over to Evelyn’s as soon as she had a chance. The rhythmic work and hum of the machine gave her uninterrupted time to think; she hadn’t even answered the phone when she heard it ringing.
The question of whether they should find any remaining family members weighed on her. Some things were better left alone. If my parents were alive today, what would they want to do? Even more important, what would Ephraim want?
As the only family member left from that small nucleus, Beulah was the self-appointed guardian of her brother’s memory. What Ephraim might have wanted was more important than even her parents. It was Ephraim’s situation after all. She gathered stray pieces of thread and then folded the green Singer sewing machine down until it looked like any other end table.
Now she would do the thing she had looked forward to all day as she sat and sewed. Once outside and into her Mercury Marquis, she headed down the driveway and turned left onto May Hollow Road, then took another left onto Gibson’s Creek Road. She passed the driveway to the old stone house, down to the entrance of the May Family Cemetery and slowly up the gravel road to the top of a wooded hill. There was the cemetery, surrounded by the old limestone fence and the creaky iron gate.
Inside, the area was neatly trimmed. Joe had taken it on when he agreed to mow her yard as part of the bargain of leasing her farm for his cattle. The older limestone markers in back were cocked slightly to the left or right as the ground had settled over the many years. The newer ones in front were made of granite and stood straight and even.
Facing her first was dear Jo Anne’s grave, Annie’s mother, who died when she was only thirty-two. Then there was little Jacob, who was just an infant, Beulah’s only son. There was the newest grave, the one belonging to Fred, and next to it, the empty spot where Beulah would be laid with her family.
Beulah’s parents, Lilah and William May, were buried in the second row next to their son and her brother, Ephraim. She stood over Ephraim’s grave and read again the words on his military footstone: Ephraim May, PVT US Army, World War II, December 14, 1923 - February 1, 1944.
Shafts of sunlight filtered through the maple leaves hanging low over the stones giving the grass below a watery illusion. On the wrought iron bench near a walnut tree, Beulah stretched her legs in front of her, and asked God to give her wisdom in making a decision.
The child was Ephraim’s responsibility, but with his death, it fell to their parents. What they discussed or even decided to do, she would never know. There was only so much country people could do in 1946. Whatever had happened—or had not—went to the grave with her parents.
Nowadays, the world was smaller, and they might be able to find some answers after all these years. What would Ephraim want her to do?
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. The verse came to her out of the blue, as Bible passages so often did. The truth was, she was never meant to carry the burden. None are perfect; else we wouldn’t need the grace of God. But maybe she had thought Ephraim was perfect, and in the process, she had placed a yoke on her brother he was never meant to carry either.
With renewed purpose and a lighter spirit, Beulah parked the car and went in the back door, where there was no black snake in sight. She hesitated in the kitchen, but there was no need to cook tonight with so many leftovers in the refrigerator.
Annie came down the steps and met her there.
“Where did you go?” Annie asked.
“Up to the cemetery. I needed to sort some things out,” Beulah said, pulling a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. “Are you going out with Jake tonight?”
“He’s in Western Kentucky with Joe and won’t be back until tomorrow,” Annie said.
“I’m heating up leftovers.”
Annie brought out plates and silverware.
“Sounds good to me.”
They filled their plates and Annie said grace. The food tasted better this time around since the night before her emotions were topsy-turvy.
“How are you feeling about everything?” Annie asked.
“It was a good day of thinking and praying,” she said, taking a sip of her iced tea.
“I was worried last night,” Annie said.
The expression on her granddaughter’s face reminded Beulah of when Annie was a little girl with long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, eyes wide and wondering.
“Grief is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s a nicely contained river you have to cross from time to time and sometimes it floods through like a dam has broken. I guess my dam broke last night,” she said, smiling at her granddaughter. “At least some of it was grief, but I was also looking at things wrong,” she said.
“How do you mean?” Annie asked.
“Oh, I reckon I idolized my older brother. I suppose I even canonized him if you could do that in the Baptist denomination,” she chuckled. “But I realized today I was wrong. He was human and needed grace, just like I do, every day.”
Beulah took a breath and went on.
“I also realized we don’t need to fear the truth. Not that we won’t have emotions or even damage from knowing truth, but it need not be feared when we have God to help us face things. What I’m trying to say … please see what you can find out about the Caivanos. We can still have Janice write the letter next week, but if you can find anything out on the computer, we should try it.”
Annie nodded. “Well, good, because Janice has already been searching. And she’s reading the Italian sites, which only she could do anyway.”
Beulah leaned over her plate of food, eager to hear the results.
“There are lots of Caivanos, all over Italy,” Annie said. “There are several E. Caivanos, but nobody named Elena is coming up. When she typed in the Naples address, nothing happened. She’s even tried sites where you can see the building from the street, but nothing comes up for the address.”
“Well, I guess that answers the question,” Beulah said, the words coming out in a sigh.
“There’s another option,” Annie said. “Instead of staying on the farm next week, Janice and I can go to Italy and see what we can find by actually being on the ground.”
Beulah pushed her plate away and crossed her arms on the table.
“Oh no, I can’t let you spend your savings when we don’t even know if there’s anything to find,” Beulah said.
“Janice has a buddy pass I can use through the airline. If the flight loads cooperate, we can fly free. We won’t know exactly when we will be able to leave or come home, which makes it a little risky. But a free trip is worth it. I don’t know when Janice and I could manage this time together, so it feels like the right thing.”
“But where would you stay? Big city hotels are terribly expensive, or so I’ve heard.”
“Janice has a big family and half of them are in Italy. Her cousin has an apartment in Naples we can use. Another cousin works for a rental car agency and can get us a discount. It won’t cost much. Janice is giving us a gift.”
It was strange how this was coming about. In Beulah’s thinking and praying time today, she had an overwhelming peace God would make a way if they were meant to pursue these old family connections. Here it was. Janice’s offer to sacrifice a relaxing week on the farm for travel she did all the time was a gift and Beulah decided to accept it.
“A fine idea,” she said.
The surprise on Annie’s face nearly made Beulah laugh.
“You didn’t think I’d want you to go?”
“Honestly, I thought you’d be afraid to find out they might not be alive or they’d want nothing to do with us,” she said.
“Those things might just be the case. Either way, I don’t want to go to my grave knowing we didn’t try. Janice’s offer to translate and take you without much expense, well, it’s too good to pass up.”
Beulah poured another glass of tea.
“You’ll still need food and you may even need other things we aren’t thinking about. I’ll give you money to cover anything else for the two of you.”
Annie looked at her grandmother in wonderment.
“You amaze me,” she said. “As soon as I know how you are going to react, you surprise me.”
“Sometimes it surprises me,” she said and chuckled.
The euphoric feeling of freedom gave way to a taste for something sweet. Then she remembered the chunk of date cake she had frozen for just such a time as this.