Chapter 13

By 6:30 am the next morning, Brennan was on her way to Salisbury, Pennsylvania. She awoke feeling only slightly stiff and sore from her recent injuries but was happy with her progress. After doing some low impact yoga exercises, she was happy to note that there was less discomfort than yesterday. She would have to remember to take a few breaks throughout the day to prevent stiffness from setting in. Her experience of many years reminded her that excavating remains could be exhausting physical work.

The trip itself wouldn't take long as Salisbury was only about 150 miles east of Washington, DC. She seemed oddly drawn to her destination and found herself enjoying the drive, at least once she was past the greater DC area. There was the usual early morning commuter traffic but she was used to that. She had always found long distance driving by herself to be relaxing and today's opportunity gave her the time to contemplate the events of the past few days.

Booth had offered to join her for the drive but there would have been nothing to occupy his time while she processed the remains that could take most of the day. This was something she needed to do on her own. Besides, he was still busy tying up loose ends on the bomber investigation. She had promised to call him when she returned to the city, hopefully that evening.

Given her day's mission, she was surprised at her own overall happy disposition this morning. Ever since her last visit with her father and brother, her mood had brightened as if a great weight had been lifted from her. She knew an equal portion of that feeling of well-being was due to her own changed feelings for Booth. She was still naturally inclined to be cautious but Angela's words the day before had caused her to re-evaluate her fears. They didn't seem to have the same importance and influence on her that they used to.

The thought came to her that their relationship hadn't really changed so much as she had feared. Their newly found intimacy was intimidating, true...but she was now more aware of the true foundation of what made them so successful together as partners and friends. She found herself smiling at these thoughts of him. The one fear she didn't know what to do about was the risk of losing their partnership. Logically, if she was truly honest with herself, that possibility could happen at any time on a whim of his boss or hers for that matter. It was, of course, unlikely but she had no delusions that their partnership was only as secure as their ability to solve crimes and provide the evidence for successful prosecution.

The day promised to be one of those pleasant spring time surprises.Signs of the new season could be seen everywhere from the city to her destination in the nearby mountains. It inspired remembrances of her mother planting bulbs and tending her garden in preparation for a botanical explosion of flowers in a riot of colours. Her mother's gardening philosophy had always been 'if a little was good then more was better".

She remembered with a chuckle how all the varieties their mother grew had driven her brother crazy every year due to his severe allergies. She hoped that he had been able to out-grow them, as commonly happened. She was comforted by these happy memories that were thankfully free of anguished emotions or feelings of loss.

She was headed into the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country. This wasn't her first time travelling through the area although she had never stopped to take in the various attractions of the Allegheny mountains that had come highly recommended by several acquaintances. Its charms included scenic views of rolling hills, wandering rivers through picturesque historical villages, deep gorges and other interesting geological features. She remembered these fleetingly from her previous drives through the area. She had often travelled to exotic places to participate in sports like white water rafting and rock climbing that she knew could be found here, much closer to home.

The area was also famous for its Amish settlements. It wasn't until she was almost to the highway junction with the Mason Dixon Highway where she would have to turn north for the last few miles of her trip, that she encountered a few horse drawn carriages of Amish travellers.

Road signs every few miles advertised the products of one of the area's seasonal industries - maple syrup. It was the beginning of March and with spring about to arrive, the maple syrup season was in full swing. She would have to remember to pick some up as gifts for everyone. Especially Angela who, she remembered, was particularly fond of maple candy.

To familiarize herself with the region she had spent some time on the internet the night before and knew the basic details of the area's history. She was, of course, aware of the local connection to the events of 9/11. A strip mine near Shanksville 30 miles north of Salisbury had been the crash site of Flight 93. She had spent her time after 9/11 at New York's Ground Zero and had no part in the recovery efforts at the PA crash site.

As she neared her destination, she found her thoughts drifted back to her day's task. She was relieved to find her mind able to ground her emotions as thoughts of her lost baby sister now included the unknown stories of two other lives cut short by circumstance. She had a lot of practice in controlling her emotions and remaining objective during such cases. She wished she could say that this was her first occasion dealing with the remains of infants and young children, but it was not. She had almost lost count of the number of children she had been involved in identifying while working potentially emotion-laden and politically sensitive cases in South America and elsewhere over the past several years.

As she drove through the small community of Salisbury, she checked her notes on how to find her way to the farm site where her parents had lived. She had made arrangements to meet the local sheriff and the ME staff involved in the recovery efforts that resulted from her request to re-examine the area of her mother's grave. Following the instructions she received from the sheriff's office, she made her way through the last couple of miles of country roads to the farm.

Her bones and muscles were grateful when she finally left the rough road and entered the farm's yard to park behind a couple of vehicles that from their official decals and markings obviously did not belong to the farm's ubiquitous collection of abandoned vehicles and old agricultural equipment from the last hundred years. She left her car and seeing no one around used her memory of her dad's description of the farmhouse and relative location to the cemetery to find her way. She went past the old but still-occupied dilapidated house to the trail through the woods. She couldn't help but smile at the house's well cared for front garden beds that held an assortment of blooming spring bulbs. She had the fleeting thought that they may have been planted by her mother though she would never have seen them flower before her death as she had lived there for less than a year.

She quickly moved through the awakening forest growth along the shaded path towards voices heard in the distance. Soon she noticed a small gathering of people standing at the edge of the trees in the bright sunshine. As she came to the end of the path and walked into the sunshine herself, she heard a voice calling her name.

"Dr. Brennan, I presume," called a middle aged balding man of average height in a police uniform.

"Yes, you must be Sheriff Showalter?" she replied as she walked towards them.

The sheriff introduced the other members of the group. They included his deputy, John Welfley and two members of the Somerset County ME's office - a tall and lanky man named Paul Golightly and a petite blond woman named Janet Hay, both in there mid-twenties.

Brennan's reputation had unsurprisingly preceded her as the twoforensic assistants reacted to meeting her with deference and star struck awe. She still feltuncomfortable by this kind of reception even though it happened often at the many seminars and conferences that included her as a guest speaker or sessional instructor, let alone her growing fame as an author.

"I have been explaining to the others the unusual nature of the case you are working on," explained Sheriff Showalter. "Although the deaths of your mother and sister were many years ago, please accept my condolences for your loss, Dr. Brennan."

"Thank-you, Sheriff," she responded politely.

"Well, we need to get back into town now but don't hesitate to contact my office if you need anything," he said as he and his deputy waved goodbye and headed back down the trail to the farm.

Brennan took her first real look around the little graveyard that probably contained no more than 20 burials. It was situated on a little hill overlooking the valley with a beautiful view of the mountains to the west. It closely matched the details drawn in Anna's picture, right down to the layout of her mother's former grave site and the three discovered infant remains.

"Let me show you what we found," offered Karen Hay as she indicated a location down hill with the scattered evidence of numerous excavations throughout the search grid still in place. Paul Golightly busied himself with the task of closing the animal graves as there was no reason for these remains to be disturbed further.

One after another, Brennan inspected each of the three graves that now revealed their occupants in varying states of decomposition and formation of adipocere. The report she had received included the information that the water table of the area was relatively high due to a nearby spring. A mineral rich, oxygen free, wet environment were basic factors in the formation of the soap-like substance that resisted decomposition and mysteriously preserved a body's form.

Before embalming became a common practice, well preserved remains were usually due to either rapid removal of moisture with salts in a dry environmentas in Egyptian mummies or through the formation of adipocere transformed from a body's natural fats. This wasalso known as saponification for its soap-like appearance often seen in remains found in peat bogs. Given the right conditions, babies, young children and adults with a high percentage in body fat were likely candidates for being preserved in this manner.

One of the infants that coincided with the single blue cross on Anna's pictures only had its bones remaining embedded in soil among fragments of what was probably a wooden box. Brennan estimated that this was the oldest burial of the three finds and probably dated to the time of the field stone marker inscribed with "1879" that had been found nearby. As these remains were obviously beyond her search parameters, she informed Paul that they could be closed as well. There would also be a new marker placed at the grave so that records could identify it again in the future if need be.

The focus of her day was spent on the other two infants both well preserved and could both date from a few years to decades if not longer. Their disinterment along with the collection of soil samples and photographs took up the next several hours. When their respective work had been completed, the three of them agreed to meet for a late lunch in town before going their separate ways. Despite taking a couple of breaks as she had promised herself, by the time she was finished, Brennan could feel her body ache in protest.

After the two ME assistants left, Brennan found herself alone on the property for the first time. She stood at the entrance to the forest path and took in the panoramic view in front of her. Her concentration had relaxed with the completion of her task and now thoughts of her parents ordeal surfaced in her mind. She discovered that feelings of sadness and loss had not completely left her.

As she stood in that one spot, she remembered the times she had visited her mother's new grave with Angela and Booth. Both of them had expected her to be able to gain some insight or comfort by going through some introspective ritual of remembrance. None of her visits ever resulted in her feeling any different afterwards. The thought now occurred to her that perhaps she had simply been in the wrong place.

Her emotions had stayed easily in check all day but as she was about to leave, she could feel tears sting her eyes. At the same time, there was also a sense of peace and resolution as well. She knew that this place had more significance in her mother's life than just being a resting place after her death. She could appreciate the tranquil nature and intrinsic beauty of the place and understood how her mother had been drawn to it.

With most of her tools, equipment and the infant remains already packed securely in her car, she gathered the last few items and returned to the farmyard along the forest path for the last time.

Just as she was about to get into her car to drive away, she was startled by the call of a wolf in the distance. The mournful sound at first caused a frisson of fear as if she were back in her old nightmare. Brennan laughed at herself and any feelings of fear or apprehension evaporated as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

The only thought in her mind as she drove away to catch up with her two young colleagues waiting for her in town was, "Good-bye, Mom. I love you, too."

I highly recommend reading the poem, "The Recording of a Cemetery" by Thelma Green Reagan. It is easily found by Googling. I won't include the text here as I'm unsure of its copyright status but feel that it fits very well with the sentiments of this story.

Marte