by Jerry Cole
He looked at me and giggled slightly. His laughs were so small and soft but I could tell I really got him this time somehow. Once he stopped, his lips quirked in a small smile and he said, “I think there might be ghost ships but I’m not sure about trains.”
“What? Why not? What’s so different about trains?”
“Ships don’t need fuel, they can use the wind, what would the trains use?”
“Ghost coal? I don’t know. Maybe ghostly energy?”
It was a great night.
***
It was starting to get cold in the town. I had arrived there in late September and the world was still clinging to Summer. But now it was the beginning of October and it was getting chillier and the corn surrounding the town was yellowing creating an even spookier image of the town from the view on the hill. My father had not thought to pack me many warmer clothes, maybe he didn’t think I’d be here this long. It was only two weeks since I’d been cast out but maybe he thought I’d give up after only a few days. All that meant was that I had to buy some warmer clothes.
When Beth handed me my first paycheck, I held it in my hands and just stared at it. Another new feeling in my chest appeared. Maybe it was pride? I just earned what I held in my hand and it felt like I deserved it.
“Don’t spend it all in one place,” Beth said the old joke, noticing me just standing there and staring.
“I’m going to buy clothes,” I said, beginning to feel giddy.
She laughed warmly. “Go on then, I’ll finish sweeping up here.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yeah now go. And show me what you get later,” she said and I nodded.
I headed out and started looking for the clothes store I had passed several times but couldn’t bear to go in yet until I could buy what I wanted.
As I headed to the street, I heard yelling from what sounded like kids. I picked up my pace to make sure they weren’t hurt or anything and instead saw something terrible.
There were a group of teenagers and some littler kids, maybe siblings, yelling at Cecil of all people.
I was frozen in place. Cecil was just trying to walk down the street but these kids were saying things I couldn’t even repeat in my own head. When I saw something flying toward him, my legs moved without thinking. They had pelted him with a few water balloons. It was much too cold to be playing with something like that. It was almost like they were waiting for him.
“Hey!” I couldn’t take it and got between them and Cecil. “Knock it off.”
The kids all stopped and stared at me.
“Who are you?” An older one wearing a bike helmet asked.
“I work at the florist. I’m new,” I explained quickly. That wasn’t important. “What do you think you are doing?”
They all looked around at each other as if they were mentally trying to find a good answer.
A younger one piped up. “My mom told me to chase him off if he ever shows up around here.”
I turned to look at Cecil, his hair dripping wet and his face shining with water. God, I hoped he wasn’t crying. Cecil looked me in the face, something like horror in his eyes. He didn’t say anything. He just turned and ran.
I wanted to chase after him but I was rooted in place. If he were running away like that, he probably wouldn’t want me coming after him. I would have to ask him about it tonight after he had some time to recharge. I turned back to the kids. I knew kids could be mean, but this seemed too cruel.
“Why would your mom say that?” I got down to the kid’s level.
The kid bit his lip, thinking. “She said he’s the grim reaper and that he’ll get us.”
I looked up at the older kids, surely, they couldn’t think something like that. “What does that mean?”
The one with the bike helmet spoke up, “Anyone he talks to dies.”
I was stunned for a moment but I shook my head to get back to the situation at hand. That sounded ridiculous and I used to think he was a ghost. “No one has that kind of power. He just works at a graveyard.”
“It’s true!” The little one added in. “My mom says he should just stay in the graveyard and never let him in town or else he’ll hurt someone else.”
There was a lot to take in there. Why were there kids’ parents saying such hurtful made up stories about Cecil? They were adults for God’s sake.
“Well I’ve talked to him every day for almost two weeks,” I said standing back up. “Do I look like a ghost or a zombie to you?”
The kids looked between each other again silently communicating.
“I guess not…” the little one looked confused. He was probably wrestling with what his mother told him and the facts in front of him.
“Head back to the treehouse,” bike helmet said to the rest of the kids.
They didn’t protest and headed away; he must be a kind of leader of their group.
Bike helmet stayed behind and looked at me. “I’m Jordan,” he said.
“I’m Adam.” The kid looked nervous. “Jordan, you want to tell me something you don’t want the others to hear, right?”
He nodded almost guiltily. He reminded me of me when I was kid, trying to tell my parents about what my siblings had done to me that time.
“It’s Okay Jordan. I won’t tell on you. I just want to know what’s going on here. I just moved here and never heard of anything like this.”
“Well,” Jordan looked both ways, afraid of someone hearing him. “I don’t think Mr. Cecil is actually killing anyone.”
That was a relief.
“I used to think that when I was younger because that’s what all the adults say but I don't know.” He looked at his feet. “I’ve talked with him a few times too. I helped him carry some flowers to his car once with Ms. Beth. I was fine.”
“Smart kid,” I muttered. “Do you know why all of your parents are saying these things about him?”
“I’ve tried asking before but they don’t really tell me anything.” He crossed his arms. “They said something really bad happened and Cecil caused it but won’t say what or how.”
I couldn’t believe that was the truth from the same people who call him the grim reaper. But still, something serious had happened and Cecil had run away. I had to find out more.
“Thank you, Jordan.” I rubbed a hand down my face. This was all getting very complicated. “Do you think you could tell the other kids not to throw things or call him names anymore?”
Jordan nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t like doing it. I felt bad.”
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders Jordan,” I said. “Thanks for telling me all of this.”
“No problem Mr. Adam,” he said. “Maybe you can tell my parents what you said, about talking to Mr. Cecil and being fine. I can’t tell them I did or I’ll get in trouble.”
“I’ll think of something,” I promised without having a clue what that something would even look like.
Jordan ran off in the direction the other kids ran earlier. That left me in the street with a mystery swirling around me and Cecil and the very center of it.
Chapter Eight
Three nights went by and Cecil was nowhere to be found. That night after talking to Jordan I had gone to our spot in the graveyard but he never showed up. The next night I went looking for him and did our loop around the cemetery and didn’t even see the light of a flashlight. The third night I walked up to his house and knocked. If he was inside, he never made a sound much less came to the door.
I was at a loss. What did Cecil think I thought about him? I wasn’t going to take the frankly fairytale story the kids told me at face value. I thought we were friends. A good friend wouldn’t start thinking he was evil out of nowhere. I wanted to hear him out and figure out a way to fix this. Obviously, people’s minds could be changed; Jordan had proved to me that not everyone could think that about Cecil. Did they know how he watched over the graveyard like he was its protector? Did they know about the flowers he spent his
own money on each week for people he didn’t even know and couldn’t thank him?
But I couldn’t force him to come out and talk with me. That wouldn’t be right either. I started waiting where we used to meet in the graveyard as soon as the sun went down just in case he wanted to talk. I would wait for an hour, and when he didn’t show I would head home and try to fall asleep. I couldn’t always manage that.
It really cemented how serious it was when the next week on the day Cecil apparently always showed up for flowers came and went without him.
As I locked the door and flipped the sign to closed, Beth stood in the front window looking this way and that, a rare worried look on her face.
“Beth?” I started hesitantly.
She jumped a little, startled by my sudden question. “Yes?”
“Something happened the other day, with Cecil.”
“Did you get into a fight?” She asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing like that. I just. I saw him getting yelled at by some kids.”
Understanding showed on her face before she turned away. “Oh.”
“I talked to one of the kids about it and they kept saying he was some kind of bad omen. I tried to talk to Cecil about why they think that but I haven’t seen him in days.”
Beth began absentmindedly messing with some of the display flowers like she just needed something to do with her hands.
“I’m starting to get really, really worried.” I walked up next to her. “I wanted to ask him, but Beth I need to know how serious this is.”
“It’s not my place to tell you,” she said quietly. It must be serious with how weird Beth was acting. “But what they are saying isn’t true,” she said fiercely. “He’s never hurt anyone.”
“I didn’t think he did,” I promised.
She turned to me suddenly. “You have to go talk to him.”
“I’ve tried, really. He won’t even open his door.”
“If I know Cecil, he probably thinks you don’t like him anymore. It’s happened before.”
“What?” Who could hate Cecil after knowing him?
“It’s a small town. And something about living next to a graveyard affects people, they’re all deeply superstitious and afraid. Cecil is easy to blame for their fears and it’s hard for him to trust people after getting all of that.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“He thought, since you were new, you wouldn’t know about all of this.” She frowned. “I think you need to prove that your feelings about him haven’t changed even after learning what the townspeople think of him.”
I wracked my mind. I wasn’t very good at coming up with plans on my own. I knew I wanted to talk to Cecil and change the town’s mind about him, but I didn’t have the first clue as to how to do that.
Then it came to me. At least the first part did; the second half would have to wait. “The flowers.”
“What?” Beth looked at me confused.
“Give me the buckets of flowers he was supposed to come get. I’ll pay for them out of my paycheck. I know what to do.”
She smiled. “I think I know. And don’t worry, I’m not going to charge you. Cecil is my friend. I want to help him too.”
We went to the fridge and she pulled out the two buckets she’d saved for him. I took one in each hand. They were heavy but not unbearable. All the water keeping them fresh was most of the weight.
“Wait. You don’t have a car, how are you going to take them to him?”
I shrugged, still holding them. “I’ll carry them.”
“The hill…” her voice trailed off.
“I’ll climb that hill when I get to it,” I said with determination. My arms would probably hate me for it later but I felt in that moment like nothing could stop me.
“Good luck.” She slapped her hands on my shoulders, probably to inspire me but it just kind of hurt.
I nodded and headed to the door. Then I turned back around, embarrassed.
Beth just smiled and opened the door for me, then I was on my way for real this time.
Luckily, it was a cool day with a nice breeze and some clouds to cover the worst of the sun. I was sweating a little but I was making my way to the graveyard. I could see out of the corners of my eyes people looking at me strangely. I was still wearing my apron and so it looked like I was on some kind of floral mission.
I even saw the group of kids, all of them on bikes, scooters, and skateboards. They all stopped and stared at me but didn’t say anything. I hoped that Jordan actually did talk to them about treating Cecil better next time they see him. That was if I could coax Cecil to come outside again.
The trek up the hill was just as bad as Beth thought. The first part wasn’t bad but I was already tired from the walk there and halfway up I really felt the weight of the buckets. But I committed to this awful plan and I was going to see it through.
After sweating through my nice work shirt and taking a break halfway up, I made it to the top. I took the triumph as another opportunity to take a break. I set the buckets down and took several big breaths.
“What the hell are you doing?”
I looked up to see Stacy staring at me from the doorway with her hands on her hips.
“I’m helping out my friend.” I gave her the biggest, shittiest grin I could manage and hoisted the buckets back up and started my trek back down the hill.
If she said anything else, I didn’t hear it.
Finally, I made it to the graveyard. I headed to his house in the very center and stood outside of it. I’d never been inside his house and all the shades were drawn. I had no idea if he could hear me or see me. But that didn’t really matter. I knew what I had to do next.
I wasn’t exactly the most experienced florist in the world, but I had picked up a lot in the past two weeks. I started gathering small bundles of flowers, hiding some with flaws with some bushier ones. I didn’t go to college for nothing it turned out; I studied color theory and knew how to make the bundles look nice.
I began leaving them at all the headstones that were empty. I got lost in the task but made sure to say a little something at each headstone. I wanted to be respectful.
I wasn’t sure how long I was out there before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped but turned my head to see Cecil. He smiled at me gently and took a bundle of flowers from the bucket and started working beside me. It was quiet, but in a nice way. He would talk when he was ready. For now, I was happy being next to him and helping take care of this place he loved so much. I wished there were something I cared about like that.
Chapter Nine
“Adam?”
I was pouring the water at the bottom of the buckets out onto some of the hedges growing around Cecil’s house. I looked back at him. It was the first thing he’d said in the hour we had been putting flowers around the graveyard.
“Yeah Cecil?”
“Thank you for doing this,” he said and then looked away again.
I smiled at him. “I didn’t want anyone to feel lonely.”
I saw a light blush fall over his face. “You probably want to know about...everything.”
I nodded slowly. “You can tell me as little or as much as you want. I’ll admit I’m curious and what I’ve heard sounds concerning if I’m being honest, but I mostly just wanted to see you again.”
“What have you heard?” Cecil asked.
I shrugged. “The kids told me parents around here think you are some kind of grim reaper but Beth, who I trust a lot more than those people, said that was a bunch of lies.”
“That’s it?”
I nodded again. “Beth didn’t want to tell me anymore and I agree with her. I want to hear it from you, but only if you want to tell me.”
He was silent for a moment and looked out over the graveyard. “I’ll tell you.”
“Okay” I didn’t think he would want to but I was glad to see he was comfortable with telling me.
“But.”
“But?”
<
br /> He closed his eyes and shook his head. “You might hate me after.”
“That can’t be true—” I started.
He raised a hand to cut me off. “Please just wait until you hear it.”
I sighed. “I will.”
He led me into his house and I followed. Inside it was huge. It had high ceilings and rafters. My grandparent’s house was older, but this house was old. The paint could have been original; it was a cracking and peeling white and the wood floors were tarnished. Over each of the large arching windows were the dark shades I saw from the outside. The whole place was lit with antique looking electric chandeliers but I could just imagine them being candle ones just as easily.
“Sorry it’s a mess,” Cecil muttered next to me. “I don’t really know how to fix it up, and well, you know how the town feels about me.”
I wished I knew anything about home improvement so I could help. “Maybe some flowers would help spruce up the place,” I wondered out loud.
“Not all problems can be fixed with flowers,” Cecil added with a little more color in his voice.
“So far all of my problems have been fixed by flowers,” I shot back.
He shook his head and led me into a sitting room. The chairs and couches looked like they belonged in the last century with their pastel flower upholstery and dark velvet. They looked like they had been sitting there since the house was built and no one dared move them.
I sat next to Cecil on a small couch and waited for him to collect himself.
He took a lot of very deep breaths before finally looking at me. “Adam, I killed my parents.”
I must have died right there because I could have sworn my heart stopped beating and my lungs stopped taking in air. My eyes must have widened because as soon as Cecil looked at them, he turned away.
“You? What? How?” I asked. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I didn’t know how to take that statement. How was anyone supposed to react to that?
“Beth will say it’s not my fault but it was my fault. I was angry with them. I don’t even remember why. They went out and told me they would be back in an hour. They weren’t back in three and I knew I could have called someone. My parents knew everyone. I could have called the sheriff or the mayor and I knew I should have. But I was still angry. I thought they had abandoned me. I didn’t call. The next morning, the sheriff came to my house and told me the news.”