Digging Up Davey

The graveyard was empty, save the caretaker locking up and the crows nesting in the spruce trees bordering the grounds. The wind warm and fall leaves rotting nicely on the ground, the smell of a nearby campfire in the air. The caretaker locked up the main gate, sauntered to his truck and drove off towards town. On the far side of the fence two figures crouched behind a scattering of boxwoods waiting for this very moment. Frank Turner and Randal Crowly had been waiting almost an hour for the groundskeeper to leave and that time had finally come.

Frank looked over at Randal who had nodded off propped up against a nearby bush.

"Ok. He's gone.  Let's go."

Randal waking abruptly looked over at Frank and shook the sleep off and yawned with a shiver. 

"I still don't see what we're doing here Frank. And why do you have those shovels?"

It was an unusually warm night for October with the sun setting fast behind the town horizon. It left a pink hue stretched across the sky while over the graveyard twilight was settling in nicely. Smoke wisps could be seen drifting out of the odd chimney in the distance. 

"I told you I would explain everything later Randal, just keep up will you?"

"I'm moving as fast as I can Frank. I'm not as young as I used to be."

Frank and Randal made their way through the graveyard to the farside by the creek. There were less finished plots here, fewer stones and rows of small sign posts numbered and lettered scattered over the grounds.

"This is it. This is the spot."

Frank and Randal were standing in an area of freshly dug graves and freshly buried ones too. It was a checker board of neatly cut green grass and newly turned black earth. 

"Here it is."

Frank was standing in front of the black and white marker, 37B. 

"This is where they buried him." 

"You mean Davey?"

"Yes, Davey! Who else would I mean?"

"So what exactly are we doing here?"

"We're here to dig him up!"

"Dig him up? Have you lost your freakin' mind? Why would we dig him up?"

"It's a long story. Just start digging.

"I'm not touching a shovel until you explain to me what we're doing here exactly. Is this some sort of sick joke?"

"No Randal, no joke. Huh...Ok... The other day I was out at a wedding."

"Last Thursday?"

"Yeah. A couple days before the funeral. Marvin's wedding"

"Was it nice?"

"Yes it was nice. Of course it was nice, it's a wedding."

"Was Linda there?"

"Yeah she was there, looked good too. Dressed to the nines in this little blue number. Anyway."

"Anyway! What does that have to do with digging up a body?"

"I'm getting to that. The next morning I get a knock on the door. I was all hung over from the night before. I pulled on a shirt and answered it anyway. It was Jane."

"Jane? Davey's wife?"

"Yeah. Davey's wife."

"She had called me the day before and asked if I had a suit she could have to bury Davey in. Apparently the last suit Davey ever bought was twenty years ago and he didn't quite fit it any more."

"A real fashionista Davey. Never seen that guy in anything but plaid shirts and blue jeans. I thought he looked too good at the funeral all decked out. So that was your suit?"

"Yeah"

"And you want it back now? Well I'm not digging him up just so you can get it back. Besides, he's probably naked under there. I don't want to see that. You could just buy another suit, you cheap bastard!"

"Would you let me finish, it's not the suit. Well, it is and it isn't.  Like I was saying. Jane came over for the suit and the one I was wearing at the wedding was laid out on the bed. I told her to take it and thought nothing of it. She was happy with it, she thanked me and went on her way. I went back to sleep."

"So why are we digging him up then?"

"Well, I left the house in a hurry the morning of the funeral…"

"It was a good one. I think half the town was there."

"Yeah. Say what you will about Davey, people liked him. He's gonna be missed."

"So like I was sayin'. It all happened so fast that I didn't realize until they had buried him, that my cell phone was in the pocket of that suit!"

"A phone, we're digging him up for a phone? Just get a new phone!"

"I can't, that one has my whole life on it. Passwords, bank accounts, business contacts, everything! Now will you just dig? I'll get it back, we can dump the dirt back in, it will be like nothing ever happened. Please. Do this for me. I'm begging you."

"Fine. Give me the shovel. You owe me for this big time. And if we get busted you're taking the rap"

"Thank you. I'll get you back, don't you worry. And were not going to get busted, there's no one around and it's the middle of the night."

The wind was warm for a change which made the dig hot work even in the light of the moon. A cool breeze blew once or twice giving the grave diggers some relief but it was of little comfort. Digging a grave is hard work. The hours passed in silence with the occasional mutter from Frank.

"A cell phone...Stupid things...the world was simpler when...I never got the point to having everything in one place…"

After a few hours Frank put one more shovel into the dirt but this time it met with a "tunk".  Looking at Randal with a face full of sweat and dirt and relief.

"Finally! Help me brush the dirt away."

Randal and Frank dropped to their knees with exhaustion and started to clear the dirt from the top of the coffin lid. When the dirt was gone they could see the wood grain and brass latches of the coffin. Frank slid the latches to one side, stood back and opened the lid which was a struggle and took some fancy maneuvering to not lose his footing.

They were now staring at the painted, lifeless face of their friend Davey Miller. 

"Poor bastard, they rossied up his cheeks and put shadow on his eyes, he really doesn't look like himself."

"It's him Randal. Just a dead him."

"Hurry up, let's get this over with."

Frank fished around in the jacket for a minute and pulled out a small black phone.

"Hmm… would you look at that. It still has a charge."

"I don't care about that. Let's just close him up and get out of here. This place gives me the creeps."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for all the good times Davey, we're really going to miss you."

And with that, Frank closed the lid, slid the latches back in place and jumped up and out of the grave.

'Gimme your hand."

Frank grabbed Randal's hand and pulled him up out of the pit and they paused to catch their breath. It took almost an hour to bury the coffin back in and they both dropped to the ground with a sense of accomplishment, and relief and a little bit of guilt.

"Thanks Randal. I couldn't  have done this without you."

"Yeah, I know you couldn't have. You owe me big."

"Let me make it up to you."

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"For starters, let me take you out for steak and beer."

"It's a start. But that's not going to even come close to covering it."

"I know, i know, will you just let me take you out."

"Yeah. But I have to get a shower first. I smell like…"

"Like a grave digger!"

Randal snickered and smiled. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it."

Just then Frank reached to his back pocket, an action he had performed a thousand times before. An act that had never bothered him in the slightest until this very moment.

Defeated, Frank looked over at Randal who was lying spread out on the ground recovering.

"Randal."

"Yeah."

"Randal!"

"What?"

Randal raised himself up on his elbows and looked over to Frank who was now standing with a shovel in his hand outstretched.  

"Davey's got my wallet."