Christopher watching Monster House
June 16, 2014
If you missed Secrets of the Cemetery, part I, click here.
To read Secrets of the Cemetery, part II, click here.
If you missed Secrets of the Cemetery, part I, click here.
To read Secrets of the Cemetery, part II, click here.
Tom headed out the side door of his office adjacent to the left of his desk. It was an odd place for a door. It seemed like an escape hatch because Tom could leave the building without anyone ever knowing. He'd have to navigate around the series of walls just before he'd make it to that gorgeous aberration of a woman.
"I'm losing it," Tom thought as he hurriedly tried to get to her. "I'm an educated man. I used to think I was normal," he mumbled.
He walked past the four-foot-high granite headstones and continued to approach the beautiful brunette, who was now only about 100 yards away (91 meters).
As he arrived at the spot where she was sitting, he noticed the plot belonged to Abe Johnson, 1898-1964. He stood silent and only stared at her for about a minute.
"You can talk to me, you know. Without using your mind," she said.
"Oh, thank god. I thought this confrontation was weird enough, but not moving my lips, geez, talk about feeling weirder."
She giggled.
"You're funny," she said.
"I feel like I'm dreaming this entire scenario," he said.
"Well, you're not. I'm as real as a ghost as you're going to meet. Just like Elmer the night before."
"And this Abe guy is sitting next to you. Is he still around?" as he patted the back of the warm surface solid mass.
"Abe left this place alone, but we don't discuss that."
"Well, what can we talk about?" he said.
"Don't know, I guess just stuff. I want to know all about you," she said.
"How friendly with Elmer are you," Tom asked.
"Oh, I've known him for years. I mean, way before he died. He reminds me of my daddy. And I taught him much about these grounds before he was buried here."
"Is his tomb far from here?"
"No, just beyond those trees," she points, "over the hill and next to the angel sculpture where dear old Ann is buried."
Tom looks around at the gravesite. He was looking for other spirits who may have been watching or just standing around. But more so, he was trying to fathom this whole situation.
"Am I dead? Can all this be real?" he thought to himself.
She laughed, "No, you're not dead, so silly. Life is a blessing. Be glad that you're not dead. This side is so unpredictable. Much like life but worse!"
"Worse? Then what's going on? Why is it going on here? Is this the only place on earth where the dead can live?"
"Well, how do I know that? I'm confined here behind these walls to walk these green body-filled grounds. I just can't venture out and haunt the first house I see, " she giggled.
"How long have you been here? How did you die?"
"Why would you ask me that," the brunette said, her friendly demeanor quickly turning cold, like a lifeless body.
"I just (Tom stammering) I'm- I—I'm just trying to figure all this out."
"You just don't ask someone how they died. Who the hell are you to ask me that personal question? You don't know me!" she became more animated. Her anger spewed out of her gritted teeth.
"I-I," Tom was lost.
"Just go, Tom! Go away! That is none of your business! How dare you ask me that!"
The trees around Tom began to sway violently, yet the sky was as blue as the heavens. The brunette entwined her soul into the swirling wind and quickly disappeared.
Everything went calm. The dust settled down. The birds began to sing again.
Bewildered, Tom fell back and sat on the exact spot on Abe's tombstone that she had just occupied. He looked at the vast area to see if anyone had seen this paranormal activity.
"This is just nuts," he said while running his hands across Abe's stone's rough edges. He steadily traced the inner writings on Abe's tombstone while he was reflecting. He got off the tombstone to step back and get a better look at what was written on the green marker.
"Abe Johnson," he read out loud, "1898- 1964. Loved his family. Loved medicine. A friend to all who knew him."
"Well, Abe," he said out loud, "I need a doctor because I'm going nuts. I spurn dead women, too."
Growing up in South Dakota as an only child, Tom found himself alone many times while his parents would dig up the dead of another kind, dinosaurs. His father and mother made fascinating prehistoric discoveries in the Badlands. After both received their doctorates in paleontology, they had high expectations for Tom. But Tom wanted none of it.
"You can keep the dirt, dad," Tom growled before leaving for college. "I'd rather bury a carcass than dig it up. I'm tired of all this prehistoric stuff and all that comes with it. The obscene heat, the nasty sand storms rustled by the intense winds, and yours' and mom's non-stop digging. This is for you two. Not me."
"Son, look," the father said, trying to talk to rationalize, "this, all this stuff is a legacy, our family legacy. Our research has brought some answers to the meaning of life. Who are we? Where are we headed? This past will tell us our future. So we don't end up like these creatures that became extinct before us. Your mother and I always tried to demonstrate that to you."
"Dad, and you did. But I have seen hundreds of college students intern, and they have yet to return for a job. Do you know why? Because life is happening! I can't live in South Dakota anymore. I respect the life you've created for us. I respect what you've both taught me more, but I'm out of here to live amongst the living. Not these bone relics. It's time for me to start my life."
Tom quickly headed out of town to attend college in New York at Columbia University. College is the one thing he did take from his parents. Both received their Earth and Environmental Services degrees from the Ivy League university. Their contributions to the college-funded program allowed their son to attend that prestigious school on a full scholarship.
While struggling to find himself in an active college lifestyle, he'd head home, from time to time, to the mobile home that was the family estate. They would move it from place to place and set it up on any site that produced dinosaur bones. Unfortunately, his last trip home was to bury his parents. They died in a crevice deep inside a canyon where they discovered a new breed of dinosaur. His parents weren't the best rock climbers or people to repel into a cave. Unfortunately, they died while repelling deep inside the dark canyon.
Tom went back to his desk. This time, he walked through the front rather than his secret office door.
While reviewing the state review checklist, his thoughts wander back to the cemetery. He thought about Elmer and the pretty brunette. He wracked his brain, trying to figure out what was real and what seemed like fantasy or sci-fi.
1,195 words
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