With a hiss, Danziger pushed the shovel far enough into the ground for it to stay upright, and then he turned his hands over for examination. There were blisters and raw spots on the palms and fingers. He should have put on a pair of gloves.
Too late now. Shaking his head, he sank down next to the grave he’d just finished filling and curled his hands into fists. One of the blisters broke, causing another frisson of pain. He ignored it. It was a small price to pay.
Across from him, the Grendler still sat and looked at the grave. He hadn’t moved or made a sound the whole time.
“Let me see that.” Julia picked up one of his hands for inspection.
“Leave it. It’s nothing.”
“It won’t be nothing if you let it get infected.” She sterilized both hands, applied ointment, and then wrapped them in bandages. “Keep these clean. They can come off in a day or two.”
He grunted in acknowledgment.
“And get some rest. We all need it.”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t agreement, and she knew it. She hadn’t met his eyes the whole time she’d worked on his hands, and now, she closed her bag and sat back on her heels. Alonzo came to join her.
“We should say something,” she finally said.
It came out on an exhaled breath, one Danziger hadn’t even known he’d been holding. “I know. But I don’t know what.”
“I do.” Bess knelt on his other side. “You can bring in the bod—you can bring over what’s left now.” She waited until Morgan had gently laid the wrapped parcels in the grave. “Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord,” she began.
“And let perpetual line shine upon her,” finished Alonzo, as if by rote. He met Bess’ startled eyes. “My grandmother was Catholic, back when it was still—” he cut off, shaking his head. “Anyway.”
After a moment, Bess continued. “May her soul and the souls of all the departed rest in peace.”
“Amen,” murmured the rest of them in unison.
It happened without discussion. Bess sat back and reached for Morgan’s hand, resting her other one on Danziger’s shoulder. Without a thought for the bandages, Danziger then reached for Julia’s hand. She took it, reaching across toward Alonzo, who took it.
After a moment, Alonzo then laid his free hand on the Grendler’s arm. He started with surprised and looked directly at him, but otherwise didn’t move.
“It’s not much,” he said, emotion choking his voice. “But—”
The Grendler reared his head toward the sky and howeled, a long, mournful cry. Nobody spoke or moved afterward, waiting to see what would happen next. After a few minutes, the Grendler patted Alonzo’s hand a couple of times and then withdrew it, moving back to the position it had taken outside the camp.
The message was clear: the words might not have been much, but they were enough.
“Come on,” said Bess quietly. “Let’s let him have some time alone for a while.”
She supported Danziger’s elbow so that he didn’t have to use his hands when they stood. Alonzo came over to take the shovel, and they walked out of the clearing together, as a group. They were quiet. But that was fine, because there was nothing more anyone needed to say.