Bottom: Nico Top: Christopher in a photo shoot 2014
April 9, 2014
The house was built in the middle of the cemetery. A lone caretaker once lived there to maintain the vast cemetery grounds. The home's outward appearance seemed simple. It is less grand than some of the mausoleums throughout the cemetery grounds. The expansive marble walls towered above the below-ground graves, giving the wealthy people who occupied them a bigger-than-life feature. It's as if they still wanted to show the living they were once kings and queens. What does it matter now? It's better to be alive than dead.
Elmer, the caretaker of the cemetery and resident of the house, had died years ago and was buried just outside the very door that he once used daily. Now, a new young funeral director has taken over and has decided to live there so he can save a little bit of money and pay off his massive student loans.
The company that owned the burial grounds would naturally lessen his weekly pay as compensation for their generosity in the tiny beige home. The corporate heads, whose headquarters was a few states away, didn't care for it much. Who cares about a bunch of dead people, anyway?
Tom was excited to take over the property as head Funeral Director. He believed in preserving people's dignity. The cemetery had fifty acres of unused land, and he knew that he could stay there as long as he wanted, a career that allowed him to be buried on the same property where he spent his lifetime working. Burial at a discount, of course. And everyone dies, so he knew he was working in a field where he would always be needed.
He moved in on a Saturday. The funeral home, where people were eulogized, wasn't too far away. Other employees worked there who were taking care of the current funeral while Tom was unpacking his belongings. He wouldn't officially start undertaking until the following Monday.
Before the strange happenings began, Tom thought he was just being forgetful. A box on a table that he thought he placed on the ground. Clothes hanging in the closest he could have sworn he put on the bed. It didn't seem strange at the time with so much going on. And honestly, would he fall for the old cliché of ghosts in a house built in a cemetery? That would be too easy to assume.
Tom's Miniature Pincher was barking at the door late on Sunday evening. It was just past eleven in the evening. Tom knew the dog had to go out.
"You have to go potty, Spirit," Tom announced.
Spirit barked and barked. He was all too eager to go outside. The property was gated, and any access to the cemetery was locked just after sundown. There would be no cars he'd have to look out for.
"Hurry up, boy," Tom said
He stood by the door and read the company policy manual. Tom stayed inside. Not at this hour of the night. While standing in the foyer of the open door, he glanced over the paperwork. His eyes caught a movement just beyond the tiny driveway.
"Spirit," he yelled.
He whistles to call his dog to him so he won't have to venture out.
"Come on, Spirit here, boy," he announces as he slaps the side of his leg.
Ugh, this dog- he thought as he stepped outside.
While walking to the place where he saw the movement flash across his eyesight, he saw a figure standing at the driveway end.
The figure is tall but not menacing. It's too dark to see any detail in the face. If he or she wore clothes, it would appear black as there was not enough light to illuminate who was there.
Tom stopped in his tracks. He had no idea who it was. As far as he was aware, there were no Sunday burials unless for a special request, and he walked the ground before sundown, and there wasn't a living soul to be found.
"Umm," Tom started, "Are you lost." His mouth was dry, and the words almost didn't come out.
The person did not move. It just stood there within twenty feet of Tom. At the feet was Spirit, who was no longer barking but sitting his butt down and staring up at whatever or whoever this was.
"I found your dog," the person said.
"Thank you, but he wasn't lost."
"When I worked here, we weren't allowed dogs on the property."
"When did you work here?"
"I worked up here until a few years ago, Elmer. Please to meet you."
Tom stood in disbelief. This must be a new guy initiation, he thought. There is no way this was happening. A dead person alive in a cemetery?
"This isn't going to work. I'm not fooled. This new guy's hazing is too obvious. I hate to ruin your guy's fun. But I don't believe in the afterlife."
"You don't have to believe in it to be real. It's been real before you've been born, and you'll experience it when you're dead. I'm Elmer. I cared for this place for 40 years. And I chose not to leave this place but stay behind to teach you the secrets of this place."
Tom was still pessimistic about this whole situation. He decided he would rather believe this entire situation was not occurring. He walked towards the ghostly figure that stood before him.
Elmer did not move. He allowed Tom to get close to him. When Tom got close enough, Elmer walked right through him and turned around.
"Real enough for you?"
The jolt of what just occurred knocked Tom to his knees. He looked over his shoulder and could barely make out the smile that Elmer had on his face.
"What just happened?"
"You have just opened our eyes to the reality of the afterlife. My friend. And I'm your tour guide. Are you ready to be enlightened about this place, or do you still think I'm full of shit?"
"No, I want to know."
1,006 words
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