The Graveyard Shift

When I’d found the ad for this job in the newspaper it seemed like a miracle. I’d been out of work for a few months, and was becoming somewhat desperate as my already meager savings ran lower and lower. The job was for the night shift at a local cemetery and paid well above what it seemed to merit. I’ve never been particularly bothered by the dark, though the cemetery did add a level of creepiness, but I figured that at this point it was better than nothing. 

I met with the groundskeeper the next morning. He was an older gentleman, Lewis, probably in his late 70’s and explained that although he had kept up the cemetery for nearly 50 years, it was getting to be too much for him to do alone. He explained that he had no living family to help him and none of the cemetery’s visitors were exactly there to look for jobs. All of this had driven him to place the ad in the paper that I’d answered. The job was fairly simple. I’d get there in the early evening, before the sun went down and lock the gate behind Lewis. Then I’d stay in the house, retyping and organizing the records and keeping an eye on the perimeter, to make sure no thrill-seeking teenagers tried to sneak in. I’d stay ‘til sunrise, open the gate for Lewis, and go home. Easy as pie. 

The first night started out easy. Lewis left a bit after sunrise, with a message to ‘take care of my people’. I walked inside the house, filled the kettle and set it on the stove to boil. Then I rooted around in the cabinet for tea, grabbing the box of peppermint when I found it. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet too, light blue with splashes of red poppies in it’s design, and set it on the counter. Then I rested my arms on the counter in front of the sink and, more importantly, the west-facing window to watch the sunset. It was vibrant, pinks and oranges painting the sky while the light of the dying sun lit the tops of the tombstones and shone through the leaves of the willows that were scattered throughout the property. 

The kettle started to whistle, snapping me out of the peaceful reverie I had settled into. I shook my head, smiling to myself as I went about pouring the tea and stirring in some sugar. Then I worked my way into the office where I’d be spending the majority of my shift. I flicked on the light, taking in the file cabinets and bookshelves that lined the walls. Lewis had told me that he kept a detailed history of all the graves and their occupants, wanting them to keep their stories. I liked the idea, though I hadn’t realized how detailed his records must be until entering the room. The cemetery was home to only 100 or so graves but each cabinet drawer only held 10 or so files, each decently thick. My task was to not only retype the files but to scan and digitize them in case of a fire or other disaster. 

I started with the cabinet closest to the door, reasoning that I would be able to get up and stretch my legs better between files. The topmost drawer was labeled May 1860 - May 1880. I grabbed the first file and settled down at the desk. Lewis had given me a typewriter with which to retype the files. I wrote a page for practice, putting down random words and sentences until I felt confident enough in my ability to use the machine. Then, I began to relay the old information onto it’s new paper. 

Plot: 1A

Occupant: Anna Peterson

Age at Time of Death: 12 y/o

Cause of Death: Pneumonia

… 

Some time in, as I was transcribing the details of Anna’s history, I heard a knock at the door. I dismissed it as my imagination at first, knowing that the only way into the cemetery was to climb the fence and that any trespassers were unlikely to announce their presence. And yet, the sound persisted. Sighing I put down the file and stood up, walking towards the front door. I slowed the closer I got to it, a feeling of trepidation entering my bones. I dismissed the feeling however, telling myself there was no reason to fear. Then I looked through the peephole and what I saw on the other side caused me to scream in terror and run back to the office in a fright, locking the door securely behind me. There, on the doorstep of the house, had been a girl, her skin peeling, blue, and transparent. There was no word for her appearance other than dead. My hands shook as I dialed the number Lewis had left me for emergencies. It rang for entirely too long for my mangled nerves before he answered, his voice tinged with sleep. 

“Yes?”

“Lewis, there’s a girl outside the house! A dead girl, Lewis! What the hell!?” My voice rose in panic the longer I spoke. 

“Ah. No need to worry dear, that’s only Ellie.”

“Ellie? Who’s Ellie? Why’s she visiting a house in the middle of a cemetery? And, oh yeah, WHY IS SHE DEAD?”

“Yes, well I might have left out a slight piece of information when I gave you the job. Didn’t want you to think I was crazy, you know?”, he chuckled a bit, though I couldn’t figure out what about the conversation was funny. “It’s the family business, taking care of those people. My parents and grandparents and great-grandparents all took care of them. We mind the graves, keep the weeds from creeping up, make sure everyone has flowers on their graves, and we help them sleep. It’s hard, especially for the little ones. They get restless, you know, so much time alone in the ground without their parents. They comfort each other plenty but sometimes they just need some, well, living touch. Ellie likes to be read stories at night, helps her rest better.”

“So, what? I’m supposed to just read a dead child a bedtime story and then continue as normal? That’s insane!”

“I suppose it would seem that way, yes, but it helps so much, and really isn’t that what tending a cemetery is about? Taking care of the dead?”

I was somewhat at a loss for words then, trying to make his words into something my brain could comprehend.

“I- well I guess so.”

“Then, do that. Read to Ellie and while you’re at it check up on anyone else who might be awake. There are plenty of children’s books in the office that she’ll enjoy.”

“...Okay. I guess I can do that. Promise it’s safe?”

He chuckled again. “Very. Ellie’s a sweetheart and perfectly harmless.”

I took a deep breath. “Got it. I’ll let you get back to sleep then.”

“Very well. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

With that I hung up the phone, staring at the wall for a moment before resigning myself to what I was about to do and picking out a book from the lower shelf of one of the bookcases. The book was Goodnight Moon, one I remembered enjoying myself as a child and one I hoped would please Ellie. I walked back to the door, steeling myself to look out the peephole once more. Ellie stood there still, face looking up expectantly at the door. I steeled myself and took another deep breath before resting my hand on the handle and unlocking it. 

Well, here goes nothing.

I opened the door and smiled, somewhat shakily at the ghostly child standing there. 

“Hello there. Lewis tells me you like to have a bedtime story?”

She regarded me curiously, head tilted to the side like an inquiring puppy, before nodding somewhat cautiously. 

“Alrighty then. Why don’t we go back to your… grave and we’ll read it there?”

She nodded again, much more enthusiastically this time and began to float towards the center of the cemetery, looking back to see if I was following. I quickly grabbed a flashlight from the table near the door and fell into step behind her, feeling somewhat safer now that she hadn’t tried to drag me to my death, the way so many children in horror movies seem to. Though, this was, I supposed, very much real life. We traveled through the cemetery until she stopped in the shadow of one of the willows and sat, situating herself expectantly on the ground. 

“This it then? I guess we’d better start.”

I settled myself on the ground next to her and placed the book open on my lap so she could see the pictures as I read. She smiled and leaned closer, seemingly fascinated with the drawings. I paused occasionally in reading the story to let her trace the shapes of the characters with reverently gentle fingers. Once the story came to an end I closed the book, and looked up, shocked to see that Ellie was not the only one who had been listening. There, gathered in front of me were probably 30 or so ghost children, each sporting an attentive look upon their faces. I even spotted some babies in the crowd, held by their slightly older counterparts. 

“Well then.” I faltered slightly as they all looked at me expectantly. “That’s all for tonight… kiddos. I’ll make sure to bring another story for tomorrow. But for now I think it’s a lot of your bedtimes, no?” I gave them a slightly teasing look as some of the younger ones giggled. 

“Off to bed then, yes? Sweet dreams.”

They started to disperse, rising up from the ground and traveling to their own plots before curling up on the soil and seemingly sinking into the ground. I waited for all of them to disappear, waving to each, before I walked back to the house. Once there I shut the door behind me and slumped against it, the seemingly impossible night’s events finally having a chance to sink in. I’m not sure how long I stayed there, though I noticed when the sky outside began to lighten. Sighing slightly and wincing as I moved from my cramped position on the floor, I went back into the office to finish the last of Anna’s file and my shift. 

I had just finished placing the newly typed pages back into their cabinet, resolving to scan them the next day, when I heard the sound of Lewis’s truck coming up the gravel road. I stood, and took the gate keys off their hook by the door before walking out the door and down the path to let him in. 

“Well then, you seem to have survived. I wasn’t so sure you would there for a moment.” He teased.

“Yeah, well you’re never exactly prepared to encounter a ghost child on your first day at a new job. Or ever, really. It ended up pretty well at the end though.”

“Yes, I suppose it did. You’ll have to tell me all about it, perhaps over a cup of morning tea?” He raised his brows. “Unless, of course, you’d rather run away and never look back?”

I chuckled a bit, then shook my head. “No running away from me. Afraid you’re stuck with me.”

He smiled, obviously pleased with my response and started up the path to the house. I followed him, smiling to myself and the graves. As I turned to close the door to the house I looked out at the cemetery, admiring the early morning glow on the gravestones. 

“Good morning, everyone. It’s a beautiful day.”