She did love marigolds

The sound of the doorbell cut through the silence hanging like a cloud in the Evans house. Clyde Evans looks up from his reverie and sighs slowly before getting up and making his way to the front door.

Opening it he saw it was his neighbor from two miles down the road, Rachel, standing on his front porch. In her hands was a small tray of Marigolds, the red and yellow ones.

“Afternoon, Clyde. I’m sure you have had enough people coming by, but I just came by to hear if there has been any news?”

Clyde steps out of the way and gestures the woman to come inside. “You’re not bothering at all, truth be told I need the distraction.” He smiles at her and looks down at the tray of flowers in her hand. “There hasn’t been anything new for days now. The police told me that they will call as soon as they have any new leads.”

Rachel nods sadly and stares down at the marigolds. “I heard you were asking people to bring marigolds if they wanted to show you support. I picked these up from the nursery in town. . .Lisa used to tell me how she loved these specific ones most.”

“She did love marigolds. . .” Clyde feels the sadness crawling into his throat and gently takes the flowers from her. “Do you want to plant them with the rest? Lisa would have liked to see you.”

“If you are sure you would rather not be alone, then I would like that very much.” The woman was fighting back tears as she sees Clyde nod at her wryly and make his way towards the back door.

The two people walked out into a lush garden. It was akin to a botanical haven for all types of flowers from roses to water lilies. Lisa Evans had a green thumb and there was a reason the Evans Nursery was so popular even if it was so many miles from town. They made their way past several tarps spread out with different plants arranged on them. Some plants with price tags and others too small for sale yet.

The mass of green and colors soon gave way to a large open lawn, with the large green patch being broken by an array of marigolds of all sizes and colors having been planted in a large square. Clyde knelt down near the edge and Rachel follows suit. He hands her a small garden shovel and smiles at her as she begins to dig a hole, gently putting the marigolds in the fresh dirt and covering them up.

“Thank you for this, Rachel. It really means the world to me. . .she’s been gone for almost two weeks now but I somehow feel she will walk through the door at any moment.” Clyde looks down at the ground as tears start to fall from his eyes.

Rachel places her hand on his shoulder and feels him sobbing. “We’re all here for you, Clyde. I know it’s hard on you with Lisa disappearing and Buster passing away a couple of days later.” She looks over his shoulder at the fresh mound of dirt nearby, where she knew the dog was buried. “Don’t hesitate to call any of us, day or night.”

Clyde looks up at her with tears in his eyes and nods gratefully. She was referring to Buster, the Evans’ golden retriever that drowned in the pond two days after Lisa disappeared. “Bless you, Rachel. I. . .I have to be alone now for a while, you understand right? I’m so sorry!”

Rachel leans over and wraps her arms around the man. “Of course, I understand. Please do not hesitate to call any of us if you do not wish to be alone.” She stands up and dusts her dress off, smiling sadly at Clyde who was still sitting on the ground before making her way through the garden and leaving the Evans house.

Clyde sits by the flowers for a while. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he pulls out of the of marigolds the Rachel had planted and smiles wryly at it. Ugly little things, they look like discarded pencil shavings and smell like it as well. He never could understand why Lisa loved them so much.

He throws the marigold into the rest of them on the ground and stands up with a grunt. So many people came to plant marigolds in remembrance of his missing wife. He was going to have an infestation of the little buggers before summer came to an end. Hopefully he would have sold the little acreage by then and will be living with Gloria in the city.

He smiles as he walks over the Busters grave right next to the patch of marigolds. He kneels by the little stone grave marker he made and places a hand on it, feeling his throat tighten in sadness. Funny how he felt more remorse about drowning his dog then he felt over caving his wife’s head in with a shovel. A necessary part of his plan but one he still felt like he could have avoided.

The whole thing started when Lisa’s marigolds became so popular in town, they had to buy the the little farmstead to keep up with the demand for her nursery. Clyde already had trouble finding excuses to go to the city to visit his mistress, Gloria, but now things were made even worse. He hated the little acreage and Gloria had begun demanding more and more of his time. It was only a matter of time before Lisa found out, and since her nursery paid for the farm, the house, the boat and the cars, he had to find a way to get rid of her and keep it all.

It was during a drinking night with his buddies that one of them came up with the perfect way to dispose of a body. All Clyde needed was tarp, and as the nursery used a lot of that, he did not have to look far, and then the body of a family pet. Clyde felt terrible for drowning poor Buster but the retriever was getting on in years and Gloria did not like dogs anyway, so things work out perfectly. Killing his wife and burying her under Buster was easier and he barely felt any emotions about that. Though he has been good at faking it for the neighbors and the police these past few days.

Clyde chuckles to himself, wondering what his soft and meek wife would have said about the whole situation. She was probably rolling over in her grave he dropped her in right now. He notices dusk has crept up on him, he must have reminisced so long the darkness caught him. Getting to his feet he heard footsteps behind him, he put on his sad facade again and turns around. Expecting it to be Rachel or some other neighbor come to dirty the place with marigolds.

“I am sorry, Rachel, I did not expec-” The words catches in his throat and his whole body stiffens, the skin on his face tightens and he feels both heat and coldness creeping over his back. Terror grips his heart and he can hear his own blood thundering through his skull.

Lisa stood before him, in the white and yellow sun dress she wore when he smashed half her skull in with a shovel. Only her skin was gray and sagging, the dress was stained with mud and darker shades of blood. Her hands are hanging at her sides, the fingers curled into claws. She took a shuffling step towards Clyde and he could finally make out her face. As he opens his mouth the scream the figure moved and shoved him to the ground. Grey hands smelling of ground and decay wrap around his throat and starts to squeeze, chocking the life from him.

Lisa’s face came close to his and Clyde felt the last of his sanity draining away as his bowels empty themselves. Her one eyes was still as green as the day he first fell in love with her, but the other half of her face, the part of the skull he had caved in, was growing marigolds from it. The red and yellow ones that where her favorite sprouted from the shattered remains of her skull, the gray of her brain could be seen as the flowers have taken root in them.

The sickly-sweet smell of rotting flesh and compost filled Clyde’s nostrils as his struggles became weaker and weaker, the revenant crushing his throat and blood starting to fill his lungs. He gasped one last time and the blood from his mouth spatters on to the face of his assailant, covering the flowers in a different shade of crimson.

His final breath was tinged with the smell of that little flower.

She did love marigolds.