The Cemetery - I
Norman
1919
October 17th
‘19
Twelve
more graves need to be dug this week. Between that and maintenance I’m at my
wits end. I wish I could hire at least one hand to help me with this. Usually I
can handle the work load. Normally people don’t die this fast but this damn
flu. It’s a ravager, I can’t keep up. My hands are shaking even now with
fatigue from shoveling. I’m going to petition for two more hands at least for
the weekend to keep up with this.
I
figured that after the war ended and the killing had stopped I would have had
some down time. At this rate the whole damn place will be full before too long.
October 25th
‘19
My
petition was accepted and I’ll have two new hands come tomorrow. I could’ve
used them sooner but I won’t look this gift horse in the mouth. Pushing back with
the overseer is a gamble in of itself. I won’t test him.
October 27th
‘19
These
two new fellas aren’t so bad. One, Oscar, reminds me of my son Michael. Full of
energy, always cracking jokes, even when they are a bit too morbid even more my
tastes. I’ve been a grave tender for 39 years and I’m happy to say I still have
a shred of civility left in my old bones.
We
started to dig on the west end of the cemetery today, some old land that had
been partitioned closed from the first years by the looks of it. All land had
been ceded due to the influx of bodies so I have free reign over all previously
closed plots. I feel a bit bad for that in a way. Some of these families have
been laid to rest here since the cemetery opened in 1712. A parcel of land was
bought from the landowner when the daughter of a friend died inexplicably. Or so
the legend goes.
I was
telling the boys, if they cared to hear, that most of these old stones have a story.
Since each person buried beneath has their own stories as well.
When we
came upon the grave site there was a statue to commemorate the girl that had
been buried there. The first tenant of Westknell back in 1712. An ornate and
lifelike statue was built to cover her grave site and a hedge was built around it.
That hedge would now be cut down and the ground around her would be utilized. I
hate disturbing the dead like this. The young boys don’t understand my
hesitation. I don’t think I can fully explain it to them.
October 30th
‘19
The
hedge was removed fully today and we started to dig. We took a five foot radius
distance away from the girls grave and began on the east side where the first
hedge was released. It was the easiest stretch of ground to unearth and made
the work day go by quickly. Since I had two assistance I had time to leave them
to their work and check on other happenings around the cemetery. I’m currently
taking a little lunch break to write this as well. I’m so happy to have those
boys. I never realized how lonesome this job can be despite the fact I was
surrounded by countless souls. I guess the live thing makes a huge difference.
Alright,
back to work. Don’t want them to think I’m slacking off in here.
Oscar
found something rather strange while digging. I returned to their place by the
girl’s statute to see them staring at the hole they had dug. They looked
dumbfounded. When I came around I shouted to get their attentions dull as they
were with shock. All they could muster was to point and gawk. I shouldered past
them and felt myself fill with the same confusion. Oscar had exhumed a grave.
There wasn’t meant to be any person buried there but the same they had found
someone’s remains.
I
hopped into the hole to brush over the bones. They appeared to be placed there
on purpose but to my knowledge there was never meant to be another person
buried here, not even the girls relatives. Next to the skull was a tightly
bound wax ornament, the size and shape of a book. I retrieved the item and have
since placed it in my shack. I haven’t had the heart yet to open it, but I hope
when I do it reveals some answers to me about the bones. In the meantime I’ve
told the boys to recover those bones and start anew in a different plot five
feet away from that one.
November 5th
‘19
No
other bodies were found in the places around the statue and we were able to
make four new graves in the plot. Once they were finished I deemed it necessary
to place a new shrub above the old bones. Without a marker or information to
denote who the bones belonged to it seemed best to simply recover it. If someone
were to protest that they needed the plot I would be adamant about keeping it closed.
I moved
the boys to another section of the cemetery, another closed partition that
would need to be opened, and had them begin. Over the past week I’ve been toying
with the wax item I found in the grave. Part of me desperately wants to pry it
open and peer what’s inside, another part, a larger part, wants me to place it
back in the ground. A nagging at my mind to let dead things lie and be at rest.
My curiosity is getting the better of me.
November 13th
‘19
It’s
getting colder now and the ground is getting a little harder to pry up. We need
to move fast to meet the stifling demands. Ten more dead. On top of the twenty
over the past two weeks, I’m surprised the three of us haven’t been victim to
the disease.
The new
plot has been rather difficult, full of rocks and roots. The section was cordoned
off by the owner back in 1816. The way it was situated with trees and vines,
wrapped around the statue of a young man sitting, you’d think they had made it
so the statue would be encased. We had to spend almost as much time cutting
libs from trees and hacking off the vines as we did uprooting the damn things.
The work should be done by tonight at least.
Kenneth,
the older boy, almost got himself killed the dumbass. We were cutting down
branches and he, hanging from one larger branch, falls and lands on top of the statute.
His clumsiness almost made the whole damn thing fall over onto the ground. Thankfully,
and hopefully to no ones notice, only a small section cracked and broke off. An
old piece that seemed to be fashioned after the fact to fix a broken patch job.
I plan to fix it next week once the supplies come in. We ran out of the needed
parts to do patchwork a month ago and it was a struggle just to get new shovel
heads for the two hires. The damn overseer is a bastard.
November 18th
‘19
Finally,
we received a shipment of supplies this morning. We had to halt all work on the
new section since another set of shovels broke under the strain of the hard
earth. They were old shovels and needed replacing anyway, I’m just glad the overseer
is in such a good mood to give us such supplies. First thing today I’ll go out
to the man statue and repair it.
I’ll be
damned. In the hole was another wax fixture the size of a small book, not
unlike the first one we found. I didn’t show this one to the boys, not that I think
they’d care, they didn’t ask any questions about the first one. I have them
both in my shack and my curiosity is burning like crazy. I have to know what’s
inside.
As I suspected
they are both journals of some kind. The wax was used as a repellent from
decay. It has appeared to work, as the pages are as crisp as they were, I assume,
when they were written. The first one, found with the bones, are written by a
Mathias Danforth, and the other, found in the statue, is the diary of an Amelia
Harris.
I’ve
sent the boys home and told them I would call upon them again when needed. The
weather is starting to turn sour but thankfully it seems the flu is subsiding. The
local doctor says it should be all but gone by January. I can only hope. For
now I’m intrigued by these tomes lost to time. I’ll start with Mathias since it
seems only fitting.
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