The Graveyard
By Beth J. Whiting
QuailBellMagazine.com
QuailBellMagazine.com
John only left home for school or the graveyard. He didn’t have money for flowers. He just sat and reminisced about his mother.
He started to see a blonde girl at the graveyard as well. They arrived at the same entrance one day.
John started the conversation, “I noticed you're here every Saturday.”
“Yes, I'm here to visit my dad’s grave.”
“I'm visiting my mom.”
“I don’t see you at my school.”
“Where do you go?”
“Banks High School.”
“I go to Angel High.”
“What did your father die from?”
“Drunk driving.”
“Mine was breast cancer.”
They were silent for a moment, and then they unexpectedly smiled at each other.
“See you next Saturday?” asked John.
The next Saturday they took turns sitting together at their parents' graves. As they were getting up to leave the girl asked, “Would you like to go to my house?”
He hadn’t been to another person’s house since his mom died. He said, “Sure, what's your name, anyway?”
“Melanie.”
As they entered the house John saw scattered pictures on the wall of Melanie and her parents. The father had a neatly-trimmed mustache and the mother's bright red hair was pulled back. The mother greeted them from the hallway. “You have someone over!”
“Yeah. I met him at the graveyard.”
“That’s a strange way of meeting someone. What’s your name?”