“You are not real,” I said to Eliza. Heading out toward the henhouse, I grabbed a shovel and kept walking. I could see they’d put up a stone cross there for her but I still didn’t believe any of it. When I got to the tree, I prayed to God and to the Devil, and to anyone in between them – archangels, priests, the constabulary – and I began to dig. I heard her phantom calling and heard Charles yelling, but I would not look up. I dug with utmost fury, dug and dug. I would prove that she was not here.
Mum says, “I dug and dug.”
“No. Are you okay? It’s Boyt who dug and dug. He would prove this one thing – and it behooved him to prove it to himself. They were calling him – Eliza and Charles – but it sounded so far-off he ignored it, told himself it was a bad dream anyway, and he would prove i
