Row 12, Plot 14

The shed isn’t as cold as usual. I used to freeze in here, even with the old pullovers and winter coat on. I used to come into the shed in the summer to cool down, but somehow tonight I feel comfortable. I have some time on my hands, so it seems. Time to get my mind straight, before Parker comes back. The past events were more like a dream. They said that dreams sometimes came true, but what about nightmares? Weren’t they dreams too? I’ll go through it in my mind, just once more. Just to make sure I’ve got it straight...

...It was freezing outside. Parker and me were in the old shed talking about sandwiches. His always looked tastier than mine did; then again he was married. I had to make my own. I had almost thirty years experience making my own, and I still couldn’t quite get the hang of it.

Parker was in his early forties. He was a tall thin man with pale skin and even paler hair. Something else made by his wife, or at least I liked to think so. There was a promotion coming up, and Parker looked as though the job would fall into his lap. No more hanging around with me and clipping the weeds from around gravestones. No more sitting in the shed with a fire and a half-empty gas bottle. I don’t suppose they were going to consider me because of my age. I’m gonna retire next year. I don’t think it’s gonna be as much fun on my next visit here though. Some seventeen year old kid’s probably gonna replace Parker. An idiot with spots who doesn’t need to learn a thing because he knows everything already. Then again, after my retirement someone like that’s gonna replace me too.

Old Barney was sleeping underneath my chair. He was kind of dirty white broken up by a few dark patches here and there. I knew he was a crossbreed, but a cross between what I couldn’t say. It didn’t matter what he was; he was a good dog. Some people say dogs are just pets, and I suppose to some people they are. Barney was more than that to me. He was a true friend. One minute he was sleeping, the next he was bounding across the room, snarling and growling for all he was worth. I heard that animals have a kind of sixth sense. It must have been true. It was about 5.30pm and that time of year it was got dark early. I went outside and looked around. Nothing. Barney ran off into the cemetery grounds. I followed him to a small track that trailed down to an old iron bridge. Barney was yelping away at one of the old graves. At first it didn’t seem to make much sense, but when I looked closer I could see the grave had been disturbed. The top layer of earth had been raked away, or at least it looked that way. In all my years I hadn’t seen anything like it. Grave robbing was something you read about in books. Sure, it may have happened years ago, but this was the 20^th Century, and it sure looked like grave robbing to me. What else could it be?

There were muddy footprints that led down from the grave to the path by the bridge. There they faded and were pretty much untraceable. Anyway, I called the police, who were certain that it was the work of some kids. Probably some kind of prank or a dare. Well, I thought at that time they might have been right. It wasn’t long before I was proven wrong though. There were two new burials the next morning, which meant more work for everyone and, that was a good thing. A little tidying up here, a little cutting there. Retirement was raising its head and the prospect was an ugly one.