The Gravedigger

Roasted chicken, Mash potatoes, shrimp tacos, candied yams, and greek salad, all of Mom’s favourites. The scent of all the flavours blends into a single pleasant aroma that almost makes this house feel more like home. I pull the china plates from the oak cabinet, along with cutlery and cups. I set the table for three; Dad, Aunt Rebecca, and me and unlatch the framed picture of Mom from the wall and set it in the middle of the table. I am always told that we look similar, the black hair, wide smiles, and pointed chins. My heart aches while looking at the photograph and the tear-stained glass of the frame but I smile knowing that she is finally coming home tonight. I grip my fingers around the amulet sitting on my chest, the same amulet Mom is wearing in the photograph.

“Blair, come outside!”

“Blair!” I look out the window and see my friends. I open the window and yell,

“I can’t, my Mom’s coming home tonight!” They look at each other in confusion while I close the window. I watch them walk off the lawn stealing glances back at my house.

The sun begins to creep down the horizon marking the end of the day. So I light a set of candles to replace the orange glow of the setting sun. The sound of Dad’s hums echoes through the house in the background. The tune is a hauntingly beautiful melody that I recognize. It is Mom and Dad’s song. I follow the trail of the sound into the hallway. Every inch of the walls is covered in artifacts from Mom’s great adventures. Mom was an archeologist, a very famous one. There are vases, wood carvings, paintings, jewelry, spoons, all from her time in Togo. It almost looks like a museum. In the centre of the hall is a stone pedestal with a plaque awarded to mother for her contributions to archeology.

The sound leads me to the kitchen entrance. I stand under its arched kitchen doorway watching him through the beaded curtains. He prances around the kitchen with a bounce to his every step. Dad spent the entire afternoon following recipes to make sure that everything was just the way she would like it when she comes home tonight. She’s been gone for a year now and Dad has never been the same since she left. He used to be a passionate professor at the University of Cambridge teaching about the history of ancient civilizations. He used to tell me a historical fact every day and would quiz me at random. But Dad quit his job. He even stopped leaving the house because it is the embodiment of all that Mom is and the life she shared with him. I witnessed him give up on living because Mom leaving was too much for him and I was not reason enough for him to try but tonight is the first time I’m seeing a side of him I thought died along with her.

Aunt Rebecca walks past me into the kitchen. “Blair, my love did you set the table.” I nod.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” My father sends a grin in her direction.

“All thanks to you Rebecca.” Aunt Rebecca came to live with us once Mom left. She is also the one who suggested the idea of how to get Mom back to Dad. When she did, it was as if life was breathed back into him. She brought Dad back to me and tonight, Mom will return so I am eternally grateful to her. Soon, the gaping hole in our hearts will be filled.

“Dinner is in 5.” I nod once more.

We seat ourselves at our circle table for dinner. Dad lifts the framed picture of Mom and plants a soft kiss on her forehead.

“See you soon Mary”, he whispers.

The clouds dissipate and moonlight gleams through the dining room window, brightening the candlelit room.

“It’s time, Oliver.” Aunt Rebecca picks up a needle and orders me to give her my finger. She pricks the tip and directs the blood to trickle into a bowl. She does the same to my finger, Dad’s, and her own.

“Blair I need the necklace.” I eye her with suspicion. She notices this and explains, “I need to use something that belonged to her and you know how much she loved that necklace.” I unlatch the necklace and hand it to her. I try to ignore the emptiness I feel.

Aunt Rebbeca takes the necklace and soaks it in the blood she then stretches her arms to each end of the table for Dad and me to hold onto. She whispers a prayer to herself then says,

“ Mary, we call on you from the spirit realm. Mary, we ask you to pay us a visit.” Aunt Rebbeca looks up and waits for Mom to make her appearance. Dad’s eyes bulge out as he looks around the room in anticipation. After a few minutes, I see the beads of sweat that appear on her forehead. She grows impatient and yells, “I call upon the owner of this necklace! Show yourself!” The window bursts open and the gust of wind that enters dims the candlelight and sweeps our hair in its direction. We watch the window waiting for mother to make her grand appearance.

“Hello loves.” We whip our heads to the sound of the voice. There she is, standing with her hand on her hind with the air of confidence that I remember her for. I leap out of my chair and run to her blind with outstretched arms. I’m never met with the impact of her body. When I open my eyes I see the gaping me-shaped hole I’ve left in the lower half of her. She laughs, “This will take some getting use to.” Dad struts toward her and tires to stroke her cheek but his hand falters because he knows that he can not make contact. He falls to his knees before her feet and wipes away his tears away.

“I missed you so much, Mary.” She crouches to her knees to meet him at eye level. “I know. I’m glad you stayed so strong.” I can hardly see through my teary eyes.

Mom looks in my direction and says, “Come here.”

I run to them and father embraces me. The three of us are finally together. It is as if she never left. At this moment, I wonder how we’ve ever managed to live without her. The only one not overcome with emotion is Aunt Rebecca. She stands with her arms crossed on her chest eyeing us with close attention.

“Good to see you again.” Mom smiles at her.

Aunt Rebecca looks at me and says, “I need your help to bring out dessert.” I’m annoyed that she is interrupting this moment that I’ve waited a year have but I leave the warm embrace of my father and the company of my Mom to the kitchen with Aunt Rebecca. She looks around the kitchen with a sense of urgency. Opening drawers and cabinets searching for something when the dessert we came for is sitting on the counter.

“What are you looking for.” She slams the drawers closed and she holds up a glass bottle. She doesn’t answer me instead she pulls out a large butcher knife.

“What’s going on?”, I say with worry. She grips my shoulders and shakes me.

“That spirit is not your Mom.”

Her words gut me.

“That’s not true.” I shake my head in disbelief. That has to be my Mom. I think of Mom’s appearance, identical to the figure in our dining room. Even her mannerisms are the same.

“It is my dear. I’m going to need your help to get rid of it.” I stiffen. Aunt Rebecca’s back is turned to me and she continues to rummage through the cabinets.

“No.” Her hands still, she straightens her back and turns to me.

“No”, I repeat. “I’m not going to help you get rid of my Mom.”

“I’m not going to watch her die again,” I hiss at her while bearing my teeth. The first time was too much to bear for both Dad and me. I don’t know if we can make it through a second time.

“Before your Mom was your Mom, she was my sister and I know her better than all of you, better than anyone and I know that is not her. But if you don’t believe me fine, I’ll prove it to you.”She grabs me with one hand and carries the pie in the other. She drags me back to the dining room.

“Look what I brought.” Aunt Rebecca parades the pie into the room and places it on the table along with the rest of the feast. She struts to the other side of the room to where the record player is and picks up one of the discs.

“You know what we need? Some music.” After the first note plays, my father is on his feet asking for my Mom’s hand. I recognize the song immediately, it’s the same song father was singing early this evening, it’s their song. Though they cannot touch they get as close as they can and dance around the room. Father hums along with the song. Mom is silent. I remember they would always hum together. His deep voice and her high one would blend into the perfect duet that brought pleasure to everyone who heard it.

“Come on Mary, sing along with him. We missed hearing your voice”, Aunt Rebecca taunts. Mom chuckles and tries to sing along but she is always a couple of notes behind.

“I’m a little rusty.” Aunt Rebecca chuckles back.

“You know I can’t for the life of me remember what this song is called. Help me out, Mary.” Mom smiles up at Dad to help her.

“Come on you know this”, he says. Her smile falls. She drops her head so that her hair covers her face.

“While you’re at it. Why don’t you tell me what my name is?” Mom doesn’t move.

“Or tell me what the name of that man you are dancing with is?” Everybody in the room is silent. The only sound is the record that Aunt Rebecca is playing.

“Tell me what your daughter’s name is?” Dad backs away from mom. We all wait for her to answer even a single question. I don’t want Aunt Rebecca’s suspicions to be correct.

“Please Mom, answer her.” She doesn’t move.

A knife flies through the air through Mom and latches onto the wall. Mom is screaming as she takes another form.

Dad yells, “What’s happening!” What’s left behind is a frail-looking man with brown skin and a white beard.

“I doused that knife in holy water.” Aunt Rebecca explains to me and Dad.

She then asks, “What are you doing here?”

The spirit smirks at her and replies, “You called on me, don’t you remember? You said ‘May the owner of this necklace show themselves.’” He stands and stretches his arms to the sky “Here I am.”

I look at Dad and Aunt Rebecca we all have the same look of disbelief painted on our faces. That necklace belonged to her. It is one of the things I remember her most for and by the look on their faces they are under the same impression.

“I’ve waited for 15 years. I need that necklace back.” I look at the table and it’s no longer there. Dad shakes his head at the spirit.

“I’m not giving it back. It belongs to us now. Get lost.” Dad tries to shoo the spirit away.

“I tried to do this the easy way. Oh well, your people have never taken well to kindness.”

The spirit flicks his finger a loud shattering sound is heard from the hallway. We all run to see what happened. All the artifacts on the wall are now littered on the floor in pieces. Dad drops to his knees and tries to piece some of the items back together. He gives up out of frustration and throws them back at the wall. Aunt Rebecca grabs me into her arms. All of the years she spent collecting these things are now gone and worth nothing. The spirit floats through me and Aunt Rebecca and stops at the stone pedestal at the end of the hall.

“What do we have here. Mary Edwards for your contributions to science.”He laughs to himself.

Father begs, “Please don’t!” I cling to Aunt Rebecca and my tears soak her shirt.

“The necklace?” Father shakes his head.

He flicks his wrist again and a strong wind blows through the open window, tossing me and Aunt Rebecca to the floor. It shatters the pedestal and the plaque in one swift gust. “I’ll ask one more time, the necklace?” The spirit grows in size until his head meets the ceiling. “Run!” Aunt Rebecca grabs Dad and me and we run up the stairs into Mother’s study. Even the artifacts up here are shattered. It’s the first time any of us have been up here since she died. I take in the scene, the map pinned with all the places she’s been, the open file cabinet with papers I’m sure she’s written, medallions, and trophies she’s earned over her career.

“What are we going to do Rebecca.” Auntie rolls her eyes at him.

“Everybody knows what needs to be done Oliver, you need to let go of Mary and give him the necklace.” He runs his fingers through his hand.

“I can’t just let go, she’s my wife.”

“She was your wife and she was my sister. You’ve had over a year to mourn, you need to get yourself together for your daughter”, she bites back. While they bicker back and forth I walk over to the file cabinet. I pull out a folder labelled Togo, the country where she spent most of her time and what she is famous for. The first page is an article titled, The Grave Digger. The article tells me that the country Togo use to bury their people with their riches. Mom and her team of archeologists spent years digging every grave they could find and bring the artifacts back to museums to display. All of the items the museums had no use for she brought back home with her.

“Guys stop arguing and come here.” I make them read the article, after their done, we sit in silence shocked by this revelation. The spirit is right.

“I told you that necklace belongs to me.” We turn to see the spirit standing in the other corner next to the fireplace. Aunt Rebecca pulls the necklace out from her pocket and tries to hand it to him.

He laughs. “That’s not how you do it. If you cannot return it to my grave then you have to burn it so that it no longer exists in this world and will be joined to me in the next.” He snaps his fingers and embers catch the wooden slabs in the fireplace on fire. Aunt Rebecca hands Dad the necklace.

“It’s time to let go, Oliver.” His fist grips the necklace and he paces to the fireplace. He kisses the necklace and drops it into the fire.

“When you take something from the dead they are no longer at rest. I’ve been taken from my resting place for 15 years and I’ve never once been at peace.” The spirit smiles at the necklace becoming engulfed by the flames.

“I can finally see my family again.” His body begins to vanish in the air until there is nothing left of him where he once stood.

“It’s over”, says Aunt Rebecca. I know that is not true.

“It’s not. All those artifacts in our house. None of them belong to us. We have to burn everything.”

Dad puts his hand on my shoulder. “Sweetie that will take forever and we don’t have a big enough fire.”

I look at him with pleading eyes. “Think of all the families that are waiting to be reunited. Imagine if we never get to see Mom again even in the afterlife.”

“Oliver she’s right. We need to get rid of everything”, says Aunt Rebecca.

“It’s not just the things on the wall. It’s our spoons, some of our clothes, our jewelry, our plates, it’s this entire house.” There is only one way we can be sure that everything is burned but I wait for someone else to say it.

“We need to burn it to the ground.” I’m shocked that Dad is the one to suggest it. He’s had the hardest time moving on and he loves this house more than I can do justice to describe. I look at Auntie and she nods her head in agreement. After dousing the house in gasoline we each carry one of the candles I lit earlier to the front of the house. The only item I take with me is the picture of Mom. I hold Dad’s hand before we say goodbye to the house and to Mom.

“On three. One. Two. Three.” We drop our candles onto the wooden floor and watch the flames travel catching everything in its path on fire. We move to sit a safe distance away on a nearby hill.

I ask, “Are we going to be okay?”

Auntie rubs my back and replies, “Was Rome built in a day?”

“Actually Rome was built in 1,010,450 days,” me and Dad say at the same time. We both smile at each other. He’s back.

Aunt Rebecca rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, we’re going to be just fine”, says Dad. I think of all the spirits that we freed from our home. Tonight, they are reunited with their family and I’m reunited with mine.