The Fountain

The Fountain

D. A. Ratliff

I slipped into the abandoned garden, wary of every sound drifting out of the darkness. I breathed in humid air saturated with the aroma of decayed vegetation and the sickly-sweet scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. Closing the rusted wrought iron gate behind me, I walked down the stone path.

Darkness consumed everything my flashlight illumination didn’t reveal. With the lichen-covered path slick beneath my feet, I cautiously continued until I reached the fountain. I explored this garden as a child with my friends David and Kayla, orphaned siblings who lived on their uncle’s estate. The fountain had become our wishing well, tossing coins in while we silently recited our desires. I remember Kayla’s laugh, saying our wishes might not be granted, but we’d had money for movies.

We were in middle school when David, Kayla, their uncle, aunt, and nephews vanished. For weeks, the headlines speculated about their fate. I was heartbroken. David was my best friend and Kayla… well, my first love. I stood outside the garden gate each day, hoping they would return—they didn’t. My father requested a transfer to his company office in another city because I was so despondent.

Fifteen years later, I returned. Now a college biology professor, the local university invited me to a symposium. Despite the pain of returning to where I lost my friends, I decided to attend to meet my peers. When I arrived, the need to visit the garden tugged at me. I asked around and was shocked to discover that the estate had been abandoned, as there were no heirs. The estate was held in a trust and could not be sold. The county decided not to pursue seizing the property and left it to decay.

I picked up a stick and poked the algae-covered water in the cast stone fountain’s lower bowl. I felt something hard and scraped it to the edge—a quarter. A wave of pain gripped my chest as images of us laughing as we tossed in coins floated through my memory. I shouldn’t have come here. No amount of time could erase the pain of losing my friends.

On impulse, I took a photo of the fountain. As I tapped the white button to snap the photo, I heard a shuffling noise behind me. I swung the flashlight around and stumbled backward, the fountain preventing my fall.

I stammered… but I couldn’t form words. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. David and Kayla stood before me as they looked the last time I saw them, no more than twelve years old.

David smiled. “Relax, Pete, we aren’t here to harm you.”

Kayla touched my forearm, the sensation icy. “We were hoping you would come. We can only communicate with people we know, and no one we know has been back here until now.”

“What? How?” I was stammering again and needed to get a grip. This couldn’t be real. “I don’t understand. You aren’t here. You can’t be.”

“We don’t have much time, Pete. You must listen. We know who killed us. The gardener overheard Uncle James talking to our aunt about a large amount of cash he had hidden in the house. Uncle James didn’t trust banks and kept most of his money here. One night, the gardener and another man broke in and threatened to kill us if Uncle didn’t tell them where he hid the money.”

“He wouldn’t tell them, so the gardener shot Aunt Lizzie in the thigh. Uncle James gave in and told them. When they had the money, they killed us anyway.”

“Pete, David, and I decided not to cross over immediately. We knew you’d come back.”

“I’m so sorry. I was so upset that my dad moved us away. I should have been back before now.”

Kayla touched me again. “It’s okay. Time means nothing to us. We are thankful you are here now.”

“Now that we have made contact, we don’t have much time.” David pointed to the fountain. “They buried us behind the fountain and threw the gun into the grave. Look in the underbrush. They left the shovel. It has Uncle James’s blood on it. They used it to roll him into the grave.

David and Kayla held hands. “We must go now. I only know the gardener by his first name, Tom. Make him pay, Pete.”

Their images shimmered and became transparent as they faded away. Before she vanished, Kayla threw me a kiss.

Shaking, I pushed through the brush and dug with my hands until I found the shovel. I hurried from the garden and drove to the police department.

~~~

The police were initially skeptical, but they searched the garden and found the bodies. Within a week, Tom Hogan and his accomplice were arrested for the murders.

Disturbed by the estate’s condition, I talked to the college and the estate’s trustee about creating a foundation to turn the estate into a botanical research center, and they agreed. A plaque with my friends’ names will be added to the fountain, and they can rest.