Free Comes the Blind Fury by John Saul Page B

of the headstones. It stood at an odd angle, as if it were about to fall under its own weight. It was the inscription that had caught Michelle’s eye. She read it again:
    LOUISE CARSON—Born 1850
DIED IN SIN—1880
    “Sally?”
    Ahead of her, Sally Carstairs paused, and turned back to see what had happened.
    “Have you ever seen this?” Michelle was pointing to one of the headstones. Even before she went back to look, Sally knew which one it was. Seconds later she was standing next to Michelle, staring at the strange inscription.
    “What does it mean?” Michelle asked.
    “How should I know?”
    “Does anybody know?”
    “Search me,” Sally said. “I asked my mother once, but she didn’t know either. Whatever it was, it happened a hundred years ago.”
    “But it’s creepy,” Michelle said. “ ‘Died in Sin’! It sounds so—so Puritan!”
    “Well, what do you expect? This is New England!”
    “But who was she?”
    “One of Uncle Joe’s ancestors, I guess. All the Carsons were.” She took Michelle’s arm and pulled at her. “Come on—the one I wanted to show you is over there in the corner.”
    Reluctantly, Michelle allowed herself to be drawn away from the strange grave, but as she picked her way across the cemetery, her mind stayed on the odd inscription. What could it mean? Did it mean anything? Then Sally stopped and pointed.
    “There,” she whispered to Michelle. “Look at that.”
    Michelle’s eyes searched out the ground where Sally was pointing. At first she didn’t see anything. Then, nearly lost under the brambles, she saw a small slab of stone. She knelt down, and pulled the thorny branches to one side, brushing the dirt off the stone with her free hand.
    It was a simple rectangle of granite, unadorned and pitted with age. On it was a single word:
    AMANDA
    Michelle sucked in her breath, then examined the stone more closely, sure that there must be more to the inscription than just the name. There wasn’t.
    “I don’t understand,” she whispered. It doesn’t say when she was born, or when she died, or her last name, or anything. Who was she?” Her eyes wide, Michelle stared up at Sally, who quickly knelt down beside her.
    “She was a blind girl,” Sally said, keeping her voicelow. “She must have been one of the Carsons, and she must have lived here a long time ago. My mother says they think she fell off the cliff one day.”
    “But why isn’t her last name on the stone, or when she was born, and when she died?” Michelle’s eyes, reflecting her fascination, were fixed on the pitted granite slab.
    “Because she isn’t buried here,” Sally whispered. “They never found her body. It must have been swept out to sea or something. Anyway, Mom told me they only put this marker here as a temporary thing. But they never found her body, so they never put up a real headstone.”
    Michelle felt a chill pass through her. “They’ll never find the body now,” she said.
    “I know. That’s why they say the ghost will always be around here. The kids say Amanda won’t leave until her body’s found, and since the body won’t ever be found …”
    Sally’s voice trailed off, and Michelle tried to absorb what she had just heard. Almost involuntarily she put her hand out and rested it on the stone for a moment, then pulled it quickly away and stood up.
    “There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she said. “Come on, let’s go home.”
    She started purposefully out of the cemetery, but when she realized Sally wasn’t following her she paused and looked back. Sally was still kneeling by the strange memorial, but when Michelle called out to her, she stood up and hurried toward Michelle.
    Neither of the girls spoke until they were out of the cemetery and on their way back to the Pendletons’.
    “You have to admit, it’s weird,” Sally said.
    “What is?” Michelle said evasively.
    “You choosing that name for your doll. I mean, that could have been her doll, lying on that shelf