Page 57 of Beautiful Ugly

“You have to promise not to freak out.”

“I never freak out.”

He always freaked out.

“The builders found two sets of clothes, two pairs of very old shoes, jewelry, including two rings, some pots, glass bottles, and some coins.”

“Were the coins gold?” he asked.

“Sadly no. But the builders think they are about two hundred years old; they found similar-looking ones on a project not far from here last year. The clothes were laid out flat like two people were wearing them and holding hands. So I called the Heritage Committee and—”

“You did what? Do you want them to stop us from building? This project has already cost everything that we have,morethan that—”

“I had a very interesting chat with them actually.”

“Great. How much did that cost?”

“The woman I spoke to said what we found was evidence of a two-hundred-year-old ritual. If a married couple thought they were going to be separated forever, perhaps because of illness or war, they would bury a set of their clothes together under the floor of their home. They would leave money, sentimental objects, and something to eat and drink. Then they would put linens over the top, like a protective blanket to sleep under, before covering the plot with earth and stones and replacing the flooring. Which was likely to have been wooden boards back then. The husband and wife thought it was a way to guaranteethey would find each other in the afterlife. Apparently it’s an ancient custom called ‘the buried lovers.’ I think you should see it for yourself.”

We had to use a torch to see the site where the builders had been working. I aimed the light at the spot where the items had been found, illuminating two sets of old muddy clothes and shoes.

“Okaaay,” he said, looking as unimpressed as he sounded. “Now I’ve seen it, can we throw it all away?”

“No! That’s the important part. There is a superstition.”

“Oh good. A superstition. Love those—”

“The woman from the Heritage Committee said that if you discover a pair of buried lovers—remember that’s whatshecalled them—you have to leave themexactlyas they were or put them back as best you can. If you separate them on earth, you will separate them in the afterlife. And if you steal their true love from them for all eternity, they will come to steal yours and curse you with eternal loneliness.”

He stared at me as though waiting for the punch line.

“You aren’t seriously considering this, are you?” he said then. “The builders need to dig down much further for the foundations. We can’t leave some old clothes and pots in the dirt because of some silly superstition.”

“They said they could work around the items and then insert some extra steel beams and it would be okay.”

“And how much extra willthatcost?”

“Not much. But it will take a little longer.” He closed his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to disassociate from my body so I don’t have to listen to this anymore.”

“Surely you don’t want to risk eternal loneliness?”

As soon as I asked the question I remembered how much my husband enjoyed his own company. He’s only happy when he is writing and he does that best alone. I think loneliness is his preferred way of life. But then he opened his eyes again and put his arms around me.

“Darling, the ghosts of people who buried some clothes hundreds ofyears ago are not going to haunt us or make one of us disappear if we move their things. How about we just bury them nearby?” he said, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his face closer to mine.

“Please, I don’t want anything bad to happen to us.”

“It won’t.”

“I missed you while you were away,” I told him and realized that it was true. I enjoyed some time on my own, but I did miss him. I didn’t like sleeping in our big old bed without him by my side. “Promise we don’t have to move the buried lovers and you can make love to me right here.”

“I promise,” he said, then he kissed me.

A week later I overheard the builders laughing about how he had told them to throw everything they found in the trash and not tell me. My husband didn’t believe in curses, but I did. I still do.

The woman in black speaks again, pulling me from my thoughts.