Grave Concerns

Barbara Parker lived a regimented life. She combined her morning constitutional with her duty as sexton for her local parish. Checking the cemetery for debris or damage and taking mental notes for the janitor before stopping to pray at her mother’s grave. Then she attended the nine am Mass before visiting her father in the aged care home. She had lunch at home everyday with her husband before they split off to their separate offices to complete their afternoon tasks. In the early evening Barbara and Bill would talk to one of their seven children, then sit down to a healthy meal that they prepared together. Before bed they’d watch a little TV or read before praying the daily rosary and going to sleep.

If Sunday was Barbara’s day of rest, Monday was her busy day. There was always more mess, more damage and more phone calls. Today as Barbara was walking through the cemetery she saw something unusual. On a limbo plot between Augie and Daisy Jackson and Priscilla Moore-Jones someone had cut a full rectangle on the perimeter of the plot. Then they had gone to the effort of carefully smoothing and covering the area with lawn grass to make it appear undisturbed. Barbara picked up her phone and made three calls, one to Fr. Joseph, one to the police and one to Bill to tell him she wouldn’t be home for lunch today.

There were four limbo plots in the cemetery. Plots that had been purchased long ago and then abandoned or forgotten without use. Barbara considered the problem as she watched her cassock-clad priest stride towards her. For an eighty year old he was sprightly, striking a contrast to her dad.

“What do you think, Barb?” Fr Joseph asked as he joined her graveside.

“I can only think of two reasons for a plot to be disturbed, a body had been buried without permission, or something has been removed. I’m going to have to go back to the records again. I was hoping you would remember who it belonged to.”

“The record keeping was poor before your father fully took over in ‘72. You’re going to have a tough time. I would check the Jackson’s first.”

“ I’ll check the Moore-Jones records too.”

“A fine idea. How’s your father? I’m going to fit in a visit with him this week.”

“He barely knows me anymore. Doesn’t remember Mom or Merle at all. I sure wish he could help me with this problem.”

“You never know. At the very least he’ll enjoy hearing the latest news from the cemetery. I’m heading back to get ready for Mass. I suppose you won’t make it today?”

“I have to wait here for the police and the excavation team. I’ll call you later with an update.”

The priest gave her a speedy blessing and left.

While she waited Barbara studied the stones on either side of the grave. Augie had died in ‘67 and Daisy in ‘69 in their late fifties. They left behind three daughters, Janet, Mary and Joy all of whom would now be in their seventies at least, if they were still alive. Priscilla Jones-Moore had been interred in ‘73 and died in her forties, seemingly childless Her husband survived her by thirty years. Maybe a Google search would show something up. While she searched her phone started buzzing. It was her sister. She didn’t have time for Merle today, she would just have to wait.

When Barbara got back home to Bill that night he had dinner waiting for her. She smiled at him gratefully.

“I’ve talked to Peter,” he said. Everyone’s okay over there. He wants an update on the mystery grave when you get a chance to call him back. And Merle is trying to get hold of you, wants you to come down rather urgently, she said.”

“She’s going to have to wait. I’m not much closer to understanding the meaning of this disturbance. The police found no body. No reason at all for cutting up the ground.”

“Are you going to call Merle and let her know?” He grimaced, for he knew as well as she that Merle’s dramas usually meant nothing more than another fight with her husband David.

“I might have to. He’s probably threatened to leave her again.”

“It isn’t your fight. You have enough on your hands managing all of this and your Dad. Did you speak to him today?”

“No, there wasn’t even time for that. I’ll go see him in the morning. And I’ll call Merle, I can’t go and see her this week, she’s just going to have to manage without me this time.”

The following morning Barbara returned to her usual routine. After her rounds in the cemetery, she walked over to the church to catch up with Fr Joseph before the start of Mass. She had something on her mind.

“What shall I do about Merle Father? She’s demanding and co-dependent. And if I’m honest, I’m a little resentful of her.”

“You know Barb, I’ve known you both since you were young girls and even then you’d have to manage these issues, she’s always been a bit tricky to manage. Maybe it is time you started saying “no”.”

“When I try saying “no” it usually backfires on me.”

“Bring it to the Lord, Barb. He understands.”

He smiled kindly and walked away as Barb took her seat in the pew. Her heart was troubled but she was in the right place.

Philip was cheerful and he seemed to recognize her today.

“How are you Dad? I missed you yesterday.”

He didn’t respond other than to smile at her, he hadn’t missed her at all.

"I’ve got a story to tell you. I wonder what you’ll make of it. Someone has disturbed an empty plot at the cemetery.” He looked at her with interest and she hoped for the best as she recounted the events of the day.

“What do you think Dad? Do you remember the plot, who owns it?”

He paused and his eyes twinkled as he made a recollection, but it wasn’t the one Barbara was hoping for.

“Joy Elliott, wow she was a beauty. Her husband was a dunce though.”

Barbara sighed. The women again. “Honestly Dad. It’s hard keeping up with you and all your lady friends.”

The phone buzzed. It was Merle again. Barbara picked it up.

“Morning Merle. I’m with Dad right now.”

A pause on the end of the line.

“Merle?”

“I’m glad you could make time for him at any rate.”

“I was going to call you straight afterwards. You’ve probably heard I’ve been busy with the cemetery.”

“Cemetery business is more important than family is it? Nothing ever changes.”

“Okay Merle, tell me what’s happening.”

“David is leaving me.”

“Are you sure? He’s threatened before without following through.”

“Barb. This is serious, I really need you to and come and help me with this.”

“I can’t Merle. We’re in the middle of a criminal matter. But I will come and see you as soon as it clears up. I promise.”

“I can’t believe you’re letting me down like this.”

“Got to go Merle. I’ll talk to you later.” Barbara dialed off and looked at Phillip.

“What are we going to do about Merle?”

He just looked at her blankly and shrugged.

“Never mind Dad. Don’t worry, it’s my problem.” She kissed him and left.

A week passed. A week in which the plot started to heal and return to normal appearance. A week in which Barb had tried to track down the families Jackson, Jones and Moore. There had been no strong leads until today. She chuckled at the irony of how her father’s mind works and made a call

“Joy Elliott speaking,” said the voice at the end of the phone.

“Joy, this is Barbara Parker, the sexton from Holy Family Cemetery.

“Yes, Barbara, how can I help you?”

“I think you knew my father, Philip, he was the sexton before me?”

“I knew him briefly. I had to deal with him when the mishap happened over my parent’s grave.”

“Well that’s why I’m calling. Can you tell me what exactly happened?”

At lunch that day Barbara recounted the phone call to Bill.

“ It seems that when Dad was working at the cemetery part-time, Joy had come in to complain about her mother’s burial. Daisy had been put in the wrong plot. Dad had to explain to her that her own husband had told him to put Daisy in with Augie. In hindsight, Dad should have checked with Joy but in those days, well, he just took Mr. Elliott at his word.”

“So the plot belonged to Daisy?”

“Yes and since she isn’t “living” there it now belongs to Joy. I have a feeling she is waiting for the day she can put her husband in there.”

“So the plot thickens,” said Bill, pleased with his pun.

The next day the plot was disturbed again. This time there was a six inch deep hole. No crime, said the police. But it was a crime. It was the destruction of private property. Not within our scope, said the police. Just keep an eye on it. Barbara called Joy to let her know. She didn’t seem to care. As long as there was no body, there was no issue.

Another week passed and it happened again. This time twice as much soil had been removed.

“If someone had wanted to bury a body here there certainly was room now.” Fr Joseph said to Barbara.

“It does seem as though someone is sending a message.”

“I agree with you. It’s high time we put cameras in,”

“Expensive.”

“But worth it and Barb, be careful. I’m afraid that they might be directing this message to you.”

Barbara mulled over Fr Joseph’s words. Did she do something that had pushed someone over the edge? If so, why threaten her so obliquely with an empty plot?

Bill took Fr Joseph’s concern for her very seriously.

“You need to get away from here. Maybe it’s time you head down south and visit Merle. I’ll keep an eye on the place. Peter can come over and help me for a few days and Father Joe’s staff will keep an eye on the feed coming from the cameras.”

“Maybe you’re right. A change of scene might be just what I need.”

Merle was standing in the kitchen, angrily stabbing a watermelon.

“Are you okay, Merle?”

“No I’m not okay.” Barbara’s phone started ringing. It was Bill. A dirty look from Merle told Barbara that it wasn’t a good time to pick up the call.

“Let me help you,” said Barbara instead, putting some dishes away.

“Well at least you’ve finally come down to see me.”

“You know you are welcome to visit with us anytime. Dad would love to see you.”

“You know he wouldn’t. He doesn’t know me. Tell me why you’re really here. It wasn’t to see me, not really. Not in the middle of your cemetery mystery.”

“I did want to see you.” Barbara hesitated. “But it is true that Bill thought it might be a good idea for me to get away. He and Fr Joseph think I might be in some kind of danger, with this crazy on the loose.”

“Why would someone want to kill you?”

“I don’t know.”

Merle looked at her, her eyes seemed to darken.

“On the other hand, maybe I can think of some reasons.”

Barbara froze.

“Shall I list them? Daddy’s girl. Mommy’s girl. Good Catholic. Perfect wife. Perfect Mom. But not such a perfect sister.” Merle suddenly lurched, pushing Barbara against the refrigerator, the knife at Barbara’s throat.

Barbara screamed. “Merle, what are you doing?”

Barbara could feel the knife cutting into her skin but she was paralyzed. She heard footsteps running towards the kitchen.

“Stop.” It was David. “Put down the knife Merle.”

Merle crumpled into her husband’s arms and Barbara collapsed onto the floor.

“Are you alright Barbara? I’m so sorry.” He was holding his flailing wife and removing the knife. “The police are on the way and so is Bill. He just phoned me to tell me, to warn us. The cameras at the cemetery, it caught Merle interfering with the plot.”

Barbara brushed the blood off her throat and onto her hand and looked at it.

" Barb, it was just a joke . You know it was just a joke. I was never going to seriously hurt you. You must believe me.” Merle choked out desperately.

“Do you know what Merle? No.”