The Grave Robber

“Well, it ain’t nothing’, I s’pose,” Dave smiled gently, revealing a pair of well-worn laugh lines. “Ya up for a bit of wanderin’ then?”

                “Do I have a choice?”

                “Nope!” Dave clapped him on the shoulder, then opened the car door in a burst of cold air. It was the type of cold that washes over you like a wave, freezing you quickly before settling deep in your bones.

                Dave walked around to the back of the truck, his breath steaming in short aired puffs. He tugged on his heavy woolen gloves before grabbing the burlap sack out of the cab, throwing it over his shoulder with the sound of clanging metal.

                “Let’s see if we can’t find your grave,” Dave said, coming back around to look at Alec. He was thicker then Dave had expected, still skinny, but even under his black Northface jacket you could see he had a bit of muscle on his wide frame. More now than ever, he was jumpy: twitching his leg; fiddling with his over the shoulder satchel; looking this way and that.

                “Come on, let’s get a’movin’ then.”

                “Alright.”

                Together they set off down the cobble path, side by side through the huge metal gates. As soon as they entered, the world turned a shade darker, the moonlight hidden by a thick canopy of trees that flanked the path.

                “Spooky, ain’t it?” Dave asked, nudging Alec with his elbow.

                “You sure you’ve never ran into anybody here?” Alec asked, clutching his bag. Dave cackled, a large sound that echoed through the whole yard, a cannon barrage compared to the cricket-filled silence before.

                “Ya worry too much, bud! If I tell you we’re good, then we’re good! And I’m telling ya, I’ve been going in an’ out of this county’s cemeteries for comin’ on forty years, and I’ve never seen another soul out here at this time a’night!”

                “Why?” Alec asked, nearly a whisper.

                “Hmm? Why what?”

                “Forty years. Why’ve you been doing this for so long?”

                Dave kept walking for a moment, saying nothing and shining his wide beam flashlight straight ahead. He shifted the bag on his shoulder, clearing his throat.

                “Well, ya see, I started when I was just a boy, about fourteen. My father had passed just a few years before, wh

Dave stopped, taking a slow breath in through his nose.

                “I don’t know why my mother let him wear it around, but she did. All I know is that when my step dad gave in to a brain tumor, I was getting my damn ring back.”

                The two men continued walking down the dark path in silence, Dave looking straight ahead with a knot in his jaw and Alec continuously scanning left to right.

                “You really hated your step father, didn’t you?”

                “You could say that, ya.”

                Another moment of silence.

                “Why, did you have someone like that?” Dave asked.

                “No. I never knew my parents.”

                “Oh,” Dave said. Alec simply continued walking and looking around with paranoia, showing no sign of indifference. “I’m sorry to hear.”

                Alec only shrugged.