I slit open my eyes to see more and more people enter the Meetinghouse at a few minutes before two o’clock. I sat on the facing bench between Daddy and Dru, with Tilly on Daddy’s other side and Huldah flanking her. Tilly hadn’t wanted to take such a prominent pew but Huldah, the Clerk of Meeting, had insisted. The pew, normally reserved for the Meeting’s elders and recorded ministers and where Abial had been on First Day, was raised a foot higher than the rest, so I could easily observe who was in attendance.
Marie sat with Sadie in a side pew. Brigid had hurried in, brushing rain off her coat, and slid in next to Marie. Hazel appeared in the doorway, surveying the room. Her lip curled as she spied Brigid. She took a seat at the back on the far side. Abial strolled in aiming for our bench. Again in his long coat, he stopped short, nostrils flaring when he saw it was full. He blinked when he saw me, then made for the first pew, which was also fully occupied. He cleared his throat and waited until the West Falmouth Friends sitting there squeezed to the side to make room for him. A quiet hum of conversation went on among the non-Quakers, but Friends sat in silent worship.
The upstairs balcony was full. I’d heard of this happening, that when a young person died everyone in the community turned out to pay their respects. It certainly seemed to be the case today. My eyes widened to see Effie Bugos in the front row of the benches up there, her keen gaze roving over the group below. The divider between the two halves of the building was up today, of course, and I spied Currie and Wesley Stewart come in the far door and take seats. Interesting. If, in fact, Wesley was Frannie’s grandfather, I could understand his presence. But Currie’s? That remained a puzzle, especially since he’d said he hadn’t planned to attend. Tilly didn’t seem to notice them.
As Huldah stood to speak, Edwin entered. The door was directly in front of me and I watched as he found a place to stand in front of the back wall. He surveyed the crowd, pausing on each person of note in Frannie’s murder investigation.
“We are gathered here today to remember Frances Elizabeth Isley, whose soul was released to God a week ago today,” Huldah began. “For those not of our faith, let me briefly explain how we conduct our worship service. As we always do, we sit in stillness seeking God’s Light. If one present feels moved to share a message of divine direction, he stands and does so. To be clear, the Religious Society of Friends includes ladies as well as gentlemen in this invitation.” He cast a benevolent look around the room. “It is important to leave a goodly period of silence between messages. The difference between a First Day meeting and today is that memories of our dear Frannie may rise up. All are welcome to speak, but please remember to allow at least a few moments of contemplation before sharing thy thought. Rather than ending at a time certain, we shall discern when the worship is completed.”
He sat and closed his eyes. I followed suit, listening as the room stilled. As always, I loved this part of worship, the settling into the silence, the calming of the physical body, the quieting of the mind and heart. A rustle from the doorway disturbed my worship. I opened my eyes to see all three Baxters in the doorway. Reuben’s eyes were rimmed with red, but the cap he held looked like he must have found the one he’d lost, as it was in good repair. Joseph, bowler in hand, looked tentative. Zerviah made her way to stand by Edwin, but two women on the nearest bench scooted over to make room for the Baxters to sit. I glanced beyond Daddy to see if Tilly had noticed the family come in, but her eyes were firmly shut and her expression somber but not upset. Good.
The storm rattled the tall windows as we sat in expectant waiting. After about five minutes, Sadie stood.
“Frannie was a joy to know. She was exuberant and curious every day of her short life. She would pass by as she walked home from school each afternoon, singing with a smile on her face. May her soul rest easy in God’s arms.” She sat.
That started the flow of messages, some from Friends, some from others who had known the deceased. After a time Aunt Dru pushed up to standing.
“My sister and I loved Frannie with all our hearts. The day she came to live with us changed our lives forever.” Her last two words rose and nearly turned into a weeping wail. She brought a handkerchief to her mouth and breathed slowly in and out. “Some of my happiest times were baking with the girl. I shall miss her terribly, and I know Tilly grieves even more deeply than I.”
After she sat, I reached for Dru’s hand and held it in mine, gently stroking the papery skin with my fingers. I doubted Tilly would speak, but I’d been surprised before. For myself, not a word of inspiration was rising up. Which was no surprise, since I hadn’t known Frannie more than distantly.
Brigid glanced around and rose, looking nervous. “Frannie and I were that good of friends. She didn’t judge me for being Irish, you see, and oh, did we have fun together. She was a good girl, and let no one say she wasn’t.”
Something sounding distinctly like a snort came from the area where Hazel sat. I whipped my head toward there to see a local Friend glaring at Hazel, who had the decency to look abashed. Edwin had his gaze fixed on Hazel, too.
“My heart is heavy, but I know Frannie’s in heaven with the blessed Lord,” Brigid continued, apparently not hearing Hazel’s outburst. “May yeh rest in peace, dear friend.” She crossed herself and sat.
“Amen,” Dru murmured softly.
I wondered if Zerviah would speak, but she held her peace. Or would Wesley contribute a message? I couldn’t imagine what he would say short of an outright confession, and that was as unlikely as me converting to Methodism.
Abial stood, smoothing down the front of his waistcoat, the pious look pasted on his face not erasing his florid cheeks and jowls. Was there ever a more pompous Friend, puppy-raising notwithstanding? He cleared his throat.
“I spoke of Frannie’s passing on First Day last. It is not right the young should die before the old. May the authorities that be act swiftly to apprehend the scourge who brought about her untimely demise.” He stared at Edwin, who returned the stare with a level gaze.
A gasp came from the balcony. I peered up to see Effie, hand to mouth, with alarm drawn on her face. She saw me looking and pointed a shaky finger at Abial. She nodded at me in an urgent gesture. What? What was she trying to tell me? She’d said it had been too dark to see identities on Seventh Day morning.
Abial finished. “Young Frannie Isley brought joy to all who met her.”
He raised his hand to wipe what I thought was a pretend tear from his eye, and it was my turn to stare. The sleeve of the coat fell away from his cuff. A strip of cloth was wrapped around his palm. I looked frantically at Edwin, who saw me and calmly pointed to his eye, signaling he’d seen what I had.
“She will be much missed.” Abial sat, casting me a sideways glance.
Indeed she will, I thought. But thee will not be missed, Friend.
Tilly blew out a breath and rose. As she stood, my father offered her a hand but she shook it off. Chin raised, she clasped a black-edged handkerchief between her hands. The high neck of her mourning dress was stark against the pale skin of her neck
“As Frannie’s friend Brigid shared, let no one among us speak badly of our Frannie, not now, not ever. She did nothing to deserve her fate. Not one thing.” She spit out the words. “I call on the murderer in our midst to rise above his crime and step forward to repent.” Her shaking voice came out loud and clear. “This cannot go on any longer.”