Before All the Leaves Turn (A sequel to The Promise of Home)

Thomas’s door swung open by itself, revealing Darlene and Tom. Thomas asked, “Mom, Dad, why are you out there?”

Thomas had found my medal at Gettysburg. He was nine; I’d been fifteen when I died.

“We stopped because we heard you talking,” Tom said. “To Elijah, perhaps? We heard him, too.”

“Yes, Dad. With Elijah.”

Darlene joined in, “Elijah couldn’t go home to his mother, so he made sure I came home to you. We heard everything.” Darlene began to cry. Tom put his arm around Darlene.

“Can you hear me now, sir?” I asked.

Tom kept his eyes on Thomas.

“Elijah’s asking if you can hear him, Dad,” Thomas said.

Tom shook his head. “Not now. But we heard him earlier.”

I looked down at my hands. I’d been talking about Ma when they heard me. Remembering her standing at the gate, waiting for me to come home.

“Maybe it was ’cause I was thinkin’ so hard about home,” I told Thomas. “I don’t rightly know.”

“But I can always hear you,” Thomas said.

“I know. I wish I understood it,” I replied.

I reached toward her cheek. She shivered and drew back, and I let my hand fall. I’d pushed that truck away from her car. Now I couldn’t so much as wipe away a tear without frightening her.

“I’d only meant to help. Tell your ma not to cry, Thomas. She’s safe and sound.”

Thomas repeated my words to his ma. “Where is Elijah?” she asked.

“By my side, right in front of you, Mom. He tried to wipe your tears.”

“He tried to touch me? That is why I felt cold? I don’t like that.”

“I won’t try it again,” I told Thomas. He repeated my promise to his ma.

“Does anyone else smell woodsmoke? I swear I smelled it in the car earlier,” Darlene asked.

I turned toward Thomas. “I reckon that might be me. Used to be I couldn’t get the campfire smell out of my coat.”

“Mom, Elijah said it could be him.”

“I don’t smell anything,” Tom said.

Darlene continued, “I know what I saw; it frightened me in the car, but I’m not as frightened now. Maybe there is a way to get Elijah home. Not back to where you found the medal but to Danville, Virginia.”

“Is that so, Thomas? You reckon they can really get me home?” I asked. I smiled as he turned to his parents. Then I wondered what I’d do if they said no. I’d already begun imagining Ma’s face when she saw me.

“I don’t understand all this,” Darlene said. “But if there’s a way to get him home, we’ll try.”

“I’d be mighty obliged if they could help me.”

Thomas told his parents. Tom smiled, amused by that response. “We’ll need to contact a few people first.”

“Wow. You’d do that, Dad? Elijah would love to go home.”

“It may take a couple of days. Did you finish your homework?” Tom asked.

“Yes, Dad.”

“It’s already late; wash up and go to bed,” Tom said.

“Yes, sir,” Thomas replied as his parents hugged him and kissed him good night.

Three days later, a knock sounded at the door. Thomas was at school. His parents had arranged for a medium to visit.

Darlene opened the door. “Madam Ecaterina Dagomire, I presume? Come in.”

“Yes, my dear, but please—call me Kat.” Her r’s rolled gently. “On the circuit, they know me as Madam Kat. Here, Kat will do nicely.”

“I’m Darlene.”

Darlene led her into the living room. “This is Tom. Our son, Thomas, will be home soon. May I get you a drink?”

Tom stood and shook her hand. “We’ve heard wonderful things about your work, Kat. We’re grateful you could make time to visit us.”

“Such a lovely home you both have. No drink is necessary, thank you. Do you have the object?”

Tom took my medal from the drawer. “Here it is.” He handed it to Kat. I watched her fingers close around it. I wanted to tell her about Ma and the promise I’d made. I waited to see if she could hear me.

Kat closed her eyes. “Such sorrow… such terrible loss.” Her voice softened. “Oh, my dear boy. What took you into battle so young? Did you go of your own choosing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I reckoned it was the honorable thing to do.”

“You have a kind heart and have waited so long to be heard, my dear,” Kat said. “And now going home means leaving the boy who heard you. Is that what troubles you?”

“Yes, ma’am. It troubles me.” I looked down at my hands. “I’d been alone an awful long time before Thomas came along. I don’t rightly know how to say goodbye to him. But I want to go home, too. I miss my ma and pa.”

“You and Thomas have a difficult choice before you, my dear. Is there anything you wish me to tell Tom and Darlene?”

“Yes, ma’am. Tell ’em I’m mighty grateful they’re willing to help. I never meant to frighten Thomas’s ma.” I glanced at the front door. Thomas ought to be home soon. “And tell ’em I do want to go home. I just don’t want Thomas thinking it means I care any less about him.”

Kat handed the medal back to Tom, who put it back in the drawer.

“I remembered holding that medal as I lay dying on the battlefield. It was the last thing my fingers had touched before everything went dark. I’d been thinking of Ma and the promise I’d made her. Somehow, the medal kept me here.”

“I shall tell them both, my dear. You have my word.” Kat relayed my words to Tom and Darlene, who had heard only her side of our conversation.

“Thomas has a gift,” she continued. “That is why he can hear, see, and speak with Elijah. You share something of that gift, Darlene, though the years have taught you to question what you sense.”

Thomas came in, dropped his backpack by the door, and sat by his dad.

“Thomas, this is Kat. She’s here to help Elijah,” Tom said.

“Elijah is bound to the medal his commander gave him, and to his promise to return home. The medal must go back to his family, to the land he once called home. Thomas must place it in the hands of one of Elijah’s living relatives, and he must give it willingly. Elijah’s mother died without seeing her son return. Although she could no longer receive him in life, a descendant can accept the medal on behalf of the family she left behind. Thomas’s discovery of the medal reawakened Elijah’s connection with the living world. Thomas became his companion and the guardian of the object that held him here. The connection can only be released willingly by the person who restored it.”

“Then a door will open for Elijah. His parents are waiting beyond that threshold. He may cross and be with them at last.”

Kat turned to Thomas, her voice gentle.

“Once Elijah crosses, my dear, he cannot return to this world. Before you decide, you must understand that helping him go home will mean saying goodbye.”

“He can’t visit?”

“No, my dear.” Kat paused. “I wish I could tell you otherwise.”

“Not even once?” Thomas looked at Kat, then to me. “What if I need to tell Elijah something?”

I’d been thinking on Ma and Pa, on all I’d tell them. Now I pictured Thomas turning to the place beside him and finding nobody there to answer.

Thomas wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“I want him to see his mom. I do. But I didn’t know I’d never see him again.” His voice grew small. “Can’t he stay a little longer?”

“Going home is forever, son.” Tom drew Thomas close. “You don’t have to decide this minute, son. We know how much Elijah means to you. The choice is yours.”

“Yes, sir.”

“When you’re ready, my dear,” Kat said.

For a while, Thomas said nothing. He looked at me, then down at his hands.

“I don’t want to lose him. He’s my friend.” Thomas wiped his eyes. “But he made sure my mom came home to me. Now I’m gonna help him get home to his.”

I’d waited so long to hear someone say I could go home. Now Thomas was crying, and I couldn’t find the words to thank him.

After a while, Tom said, “Our friend Max knew people at Danville’s Circuit Court clerk’s office. They put him in touch with the Virginia-North Carolina Piedmont Genealogical Society. The Society traced the descendants of Elijah’s younger siblings. His parents had another son and daughter after Elijah died. Descendants of that son still live on the original family property.”

A brother and a sister. I tried to picture them running across our yard. I wondered if my brother had found my fishing spot down by the creek. I hoped Pa had taken him there.

Kat looked at me and smiled. “Well, my dears, everything seems to be in order. I shall take my leave and let you prepare for the journey.”

“Please let us pay you for your time,” Tom said.

Kat held up one hand. “No, my dears. Seeing such kindness in the boy you have raised is payment enough. I am glad I could be of help.”

She rose and shook Tom’s hand, then Thomas’s, before embracing Darlene. She turned to me and smiled.

“Safe journey, young soldier.”

I said, “Safe travels, ma’am, and much obliged.”

Darlene saw her out.

Tom made a call on speakerphone. “William Henry Bettz? I’m Tom Miller. The Society contacted you about Elijah. My son has his medal. We’re hoping to help Elijah’s spirit find peace. Could we visit tomorrow?”

“Just call me Will. I’d sure like to see that medal, though I don’t quite know what to make of this ghost business. How did y’all find out that medal belonged to Elijah?”

“His name’s on the medal. Max checked his service record, and the Society traced his family. We’re trying to help Elijah go home.”

“Well, after the Society got in touch, I pulled out our family Bible and the genealogy charts we keep with it. Elijah’s name was right there. He’s kin to me, sure enough. If bringing that medal home will help him, y’all are welcome to come.”

My name was in their Bible. I kept thinking on that while Will talked. All these years, and there I was, still written down with my own folks.

“Thank you, Will. We’ll see you tomorrow.” Tom ended the call and rested his right hand on Thomas’s shoulder.

“Thomas, no school tomorrow. Your mom and I are taking you and Elijah to Danville,” Tom said.

“Really, I get to see where Elijah grew up?”

“Among other things, son,” Tom said.

That evening, Tom and Darlene searched the internet to answer Thomas’s questions about Danville. At breakfast, he asked, “When are we leaving? I can’t wait to see Elijah’s home.”

“Finish your breakfast, then we’ll clean up the dishes and leave,” Darlene said. Once everything was put to rights, they gathered their light coats and my medal. I climbed into the back beside Thomas. I still couldn’t rightly understand what made that thing go without a horse to pull it.

“Thomas, is Elijah with us?” Tom asked.

Darlene responded first, “He is; I can smell the woodsmoke.”

Thomas confirmed, “Yes, Dad.”

Tom pressed a button. The car stirred to life, and off we went.

An hour into the journey, we passed a farm. “What in the world are those contraptions, Thomas?” I asked. Great machines crawled across the fields without a horse or mule hitched to them.

Thomas repeated my question to his dad.

“Those are tractors pulling hay balers,” Tom said. “They gather the cut hay and roll it into those big round bales. Saves a lot of work. Look over there, you see the giant rolls?”

“You see them, Elijah?” Thomas asked.

“I see ’em.” I leaned closer to the window. “Pa would’ve been mighty glad to have one of those. We used to work till near dark putting up hay.” I smiled. “I’ll have to tell him about this.”

I leaned toward the window as we crossed the Monacan Bridge. The river lay far below us, and the road seemed to hang in the air.

“Thomas, are we flyin’ without wings?” I asked.

Thomas giggled. “Nope! It’s just a big bridge. Feels like we’re flying, though, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, still peering out the window as the road carried us back down to solid ground.

I had questions about near everything we passed. Then the fields slipped behind stands of yellowing trees, and I remembered what I’d told Ma about coming home before the leaves turned.

A sign for Danville appeared beside the road.

I’d been wishing the car would hurry. Now I looked at Thomas sitting beside me and wished we had a little farther to go.

Two pale tracks curved through the grass toward a white house. Its reddish roof showed between the branches, and a brick chimney rose above it. I studied the windows and the little porch. None of it was familiar except the stone walkway to the kitchen door and the chimney base I’d helped Pa build.

I looked beyond the house.

The field sloped toward the woods. Through the open car window came the smell of damp earth and grass drying in the sun. I remembered Pa’s muddy boots beside our door, and Ma calling me in before my supper went cold. I could almost taste her cornbread.

Thomas sat beside me, holding the medal. I turned to tell him about the field, about the way it used to look, but the words caught.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m home.”

Yellow leaves lay piled against the steps. Tree shadows stretched across the yard, and sunshine warmed the fields. I remembered the sweet smell of fallen fruit drifting through the open window, mixed with the woodsmoke clinging to my coat. Leaves scraping over stone. A bird calling from the woods.

I could near feel the cool air on my face, the grass tickling my ankles, and the smooth paint on our porch rail. I could almost taste that cold water from Ma’s dipper after chores, with its little tang of tin.

I kept looking for our old door. I reckoned I’d know it anywhere, the place Ma used to stand and call me in.

But it wasn’t there anymore.

The car pulled in, and an older gentleman came out to greet us with a book in his hand. Tom got out of the car. “You must be Will. I’m Tom, and this is Darlene and Thomas.”

“Sure is a pleasure to meet y’all. Come on up to the porch. Let me show you what I found.”

Will’s wife brought lemonade for everyone. “This is my wife, Rebecca Ann,” Will said.

“Just call me Becky,” she said.

“This is delicious. Thank you,” Tom said to Becky, taking a sip.

“I did a little digging up in the attic and found some old family pictures.” Will opened the scrapbook and turned to a page of old family photographs.

“That’s Elijah,” Thomas said, pointing to another. “And that one is him, too.”

“Is that who you see, Thomas?” Darlene asked.

“Yes, Mom. That’s him.”

Will held out the photograph. “Here you go, Thomas. I’d like you to have this picture of your friend. It’s the least I can do.”

Thomas gripped the picture and stared at it.

“I don’t know much about this spirit business, but it just feels right for you to have it.” Will unfolded a letter. “Elijah wrote his ma and pa about the medal in this old letter. Says his commander gave it to him as a personal gift. Do y’all still have it?”

“Why, I wrote that letter, Thomas. See there? That’s my own handwriting.”

“Yes, sir.” Thomas held up the medal.

Will leaned closer to examine it. “That’s our family name on there, sure enough.”

Will said, “Is that what you brought to give to us? To help Elijah go home?”

Thomas opened his hand, then closed it around the medal again. He looked at Will’s waiting palm, then back at me.

“I’m going to,” he whispered. “I just need…”

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. For a moment, he held the medal out, but before Will could take it, Thomas pulled it back against his chest.

“Can I have one more minute?” His lower lip trembled. “Just one?”

I wanted that medal in Will’s hand. I wanted Ma. But Thomas was looking at me as if I were already gone, and I couldn’t bring myself to hurry him.

“Take your time, my friend,” I said. “I ain’t leavin’ till you’re ready.”

Tom and Darlene watched Thomas without speaking.

Thomas looked at me, then held out the medal. “Here, Mr. Bettz. Take it, please.” He placed it in Will’s palm.

A door opened beyond the porch. Through it, I saw Ma and Pa, with others gathered behind them and children playing nearby.

“It’s Ma and Pa,” I said.

“Elijah? Is that you, my darling boy? Have you come home to us at last?” Ma called.

I turned to Thomas. “I’ll never forget you. You’ve been a mighty good friend to me. Thank you for helping me get home.” I tried to smile. “I don’t reckon I can say goodbye. So… till we meet again, my friend. I surely hope we do.”

“Will you tell your pa about me?” Thomas asked.

“First thing,” I said.

I crossed into Ma’s arms, and they closed round me. I’d remembered her face all these years, but I’d near forgotten how it felt to be held. I stayed there a moment before I looked back. The opening was gone.