TwoA Chapter by AmandaThe second chapter of Post Mortem. Isaac's daily work lifeIt takes me half an hour to get back to Harmon Cemetery, and I blast the radio all the way there. I try not to think too much. I know if I do, I’ll lose it.
I focus on an upbeat song and belt it out, grinning at the looks I get. When the radio gets boring, I flip through my CD’s quickly and find one that I burned a while ago. I skip to track 7, “Big Beat Repeat”, and wait for it to play.
At stop signs and traffic signals, I dance wildly giving my neighbors some entertainment. When I reach Harmon, the song’s coming to an end, and I relax. I relax too much, though.
My hands grip the wheel as I feel a spinning situation. A blur of tans and reds and purples and blues flash before my eyes. I hear screaming.
The flashes only last about thirty seconds, which is an eternity to me. As I finally park the car next to my little cottage, my cramping hands begin to relax.
“You’re late!” A high voice squeals from right next to me, and my head hits the roof from the surprise.
“Juliette,” I sigh, “How many times have I told you not to scare me?”
“Isaac,” she leans closer, mocking me, “How many times have I told you that it part of the job description?”
I roll my eyes as I get out of the car, and the small framed girl follows me. More and more people emerge the longer I am there. “Why is everyone up and about today?” I ask, glancing around at the abnormal number of visitors.
“Restless, I reckon,” she shrugs, her dark red hair blowing in the light breeze. Her silver eyes give her a mysterious and slightly scary look, but I’m used to it. “What’s on the list today?”
“I have to…weed and then clean up some of the stones. Got a meeting at four.” I look around, trying to figure out what needs to be done. The forty or so people make it a bit difficult, but I’m pretty sure I haven’t missed anything.
“Ooh, pray tell,” Juliette bats her eyelashes and I sigh again.
“You’re annoying.”
“You’re annoying, too. Do you think I like talking to a skinny little boy all day every day?”
“I was under the impression, yes,” I teased, ignoring the insult. Juliette didn’t have a boyfriend, so the eighteen year old girl hung around me a lot. Well, most of the time, actually.
She stuck her tongue out at me and I entered my home. Grabbing a few of the tools I needed, and my iPod, I got to work. It was 1:30 now, which meant I had about two and a half hours before the meeting.
Several of the others stopped to talk to me as I worked. They had nothing better to do, so I tried to multitask. My phone went off in my pocket, alerting me that I had to get ready.
Fifteen minutes later, I was greeting a Mr. Alexander Meyers, who’d brought his son along with him. Calvin, the son, looked about my age. He looked like he meant to be intimidating, but I think he was trying too hard.
“So you’re the one I’m supposed to be meeting?” Alexander asked skeptically, arching his eyebrows.
I often go that response, so I nodded instead of feeling offended. “My name’s Isaac Payne, sir. I’m the caretaker, and I er, take care of the people buried here. If you have preferences, like flowers and plants that you want me to keep healthy, just write it down on the form.”
When I met with clients who’d loved ones I’d be taking care of, in more ways than one, I shed all the careless teenager ways I had about me. They didn’t want some schmuck dishonoring the people-they-loves’ memories, I knew that as well as anyone.
I saw Juliette outside, playing with a little boy named Hector. He was eight or nine. I wondered if either one of his parents were here with him.
“Well, I want to make sure my wife is in the best possible care,” Alexander said gruffly, and I saw the way Calvin stiffened. I wondered if he’d heard those words before, back when his mother, I presume, was alive.
“I can assure you I treat each plot and beyond with respect,” I said, handing him the sheet of paper. It was some information I needed to file for when the owner checked in.
My phone went off again, only this time, Drew was calling. “If you’ll excuse me,” I nodded at the two men and stepped out of the office and into my small living room. “Hullo?”
“Dude.” Drew didn’t say anything else. He sounded shocked and I began to get worried.
“Drew? What’s up? Is everything okay?”
“Dude…”
“What?” I exclaimed, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
“Ashley and I are going out.” I choked. I literally choked on my own spit.
“What?” I coughed again, disbelief ringing in every syllable.
“Yeah…I…We kissed and then…I asked her out…said yes…” Drew sounded like he couldn’t believe it either, which made me laugh. I glanced back at the office, remembering what I was doing.
“Look, come by tonight and we can talk about it. Bring pizza. I gotta go someone’s here.” He agreed and I returned to my clients.
I looked over the paper, nodding, “Everything seems good. After she’s buried, you can come by anytime after 8:30. Gates close at 9 in the evening, so you’ll have to be out by then if you ever stay that long.”
We shook hands and the Meyers left, leaving me with a bouncy Juliette. Knowing her, she’d probably listened to the whole thing outside. Julie followed me around until six, when she decided she’d finally had enough social interaction.
By 6:30 I was scrubbing my last stone, smoothing out the curve at the top. I stepped back to admire the white and grey marble that was newly polished. I sighed as I read the inscription there.
Juliette Grace Anders 1993-2011 Forever missed daughter and sister © 2012 AmandaAuthor's Note
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