Under the Catalpa Tree by Jan Darrow

Six months ago, I received letters from my cousin Jane after her husband died. I became concerned for her state of mind and traveled to her house in early November.  The house was empty. I filed a missing person’s report, but as the weeks and months went by I knew I would never find her.

I believe her story is in her letters.     

October 2

Dear Lucy,

I have been thinking about your offer these past months to live with you since Bryan’s death, but really cousin I think I’ll be alright.  I have been enjoying the view off the back porch in the evenings - you know the one I mean – the garden behind us with the bordering cedar hedges and the large Catalpa tree. I planted some raspberry bushes along the property line today and what do you think I dug up?  An old pocket watch and a porcelain door knob!  Looking forward to seeing you at Christmas.

Love, Jane

October 13

Dear Lucy,

I want to thank you for sending the beautiful sweater.  Since my last letter to you I've been having trouble sleeping.  I hear sounds at night that wake me.  The moon has been so round and full, and I get out of bed and look out my window at the garden.  I hear whispering, yet I see nothing.  The garden under the moonlight is magical, and I wonder what I would do if it were not for the old man taking care of it.  I don’t think he’s paid.  He told me there was once an old hospital there! 

Well dear cousin, I’m closing my window and curtains.  I have been thinking again of your offer.  The loneliness has gotten the better part of me tonight.

Love, Jane

October 25

Dear Lucy,

I’m writing to you because I have nowhere else to turn. There is a man that stands under the Catalpa tree in the garden. His face is pitted with sores and his eyes...they are hollow.  His long ragged coat flaps in the wind and he stares up at my bedroom window.  I wanted to call the police, but my hands shook so hard I couldn’t dial the phone and I know Lucy...he is not from this world.   I finally got up the courage and stepped onto the back porch...he told me his name is Mr. Hartwick and they dumped his body into the pond.  Could it be that he is from the old hospital?  He scares me with his black eyes!  Could it be true?  

Jane

October 30

Dear Lucy,

Now I know it’s true.  I spent time at the library and saw pictures.  There was a hospital and a pond.  Oh Lucy... I feel certain he wants something.  I have laid his pocket watch out on the porch. 

Am I losing my mind? At night I crouch by the window, but I can’t bear to look out.

Jane

November 6

Dearest Lucy,

I cannot eat or sleep.  Last night Mr. Hartwick filled the air with thunder and rattled the windows.  He’s in my house now and sometimes presses his hand to mine in the darkness.  I think tomorrow I should walk up to the cemetery and bury the pocket watch. Does that sound right?  

Bryan was here last night dear cousin.  He tried to comfort me, but there is no comfort.  Will you come for me, Lucy?

Jan Darrow is a poet from Michigan who connected with the natural world at an early age.  She has been published online and in print and finds abandoned places utterly beautiful.  You can see more of her work at jandarrow.blogspot.com.