Standing Still

The graves sat in neatly trimmed rows of stone and cement, pictures fading and flowers wilted. Life went on about them. The street cars rushed by, eyes peering through the windows trying to catch a glimpse of blue lights or mysterious apparitions between tombs. Occasionally a gossiping walker or two held silence as they passed; a superficial fear of disturbing the peaceful dead. In the evenings Fred the grave keeper drove around in his truck tidying the roadway that snaked through the cemetery.

In April the birds’ chorus brought forth floral and fauna which in turn gave way to a luscious forest of green canopies and watery skies. Fred mowed the lawns and kept the place in order. He tended to the plants and bushes that decorated sections of the cemetery, adding mulch when needed and pruning when overgrown. Come September the blood orange leaves fell on the graves coloring them in a fire and in December the fire was doused by a cold white blanket. Fred retired to his homely house down the block and didn’t come out until April.

Adam, however, held his position all year round. A young statue made of granite, Adam was very proud. He was commissioned over the grave of a boy named Nathan who battled cancer for three years. Nathan had a big family; three brothers and five sisters that often visited him on holidays and on his birthday. Adam liked seeing them in their Sunday best with wild bouquets in their hands. Some days, it was just Nathan’s parents who visited. His mother would kneel and whisper a prayer and then tidy up the gravestone. Sometimes she would brush pine needles off Adam’s feet. He would stifle a giggle because it tickled him. “Sometimes I can still hear him laughing,” she would say before leaving.

Adam was in love with Kari, the statue across the way. She guarded the grave of Madeline, a 6 year old girl who died in a crash right at the corner of Valhalla Court and 39^th.  Her mother had stayed at the grave site for three days in protest of the drunkard who had killed her daughter. Apparently he fled the scene and the Portland police department had done nothing about it. But Kari watched over Madeline’s grave with loving hands over her heart and eyes up to heaven. Kari was made of marble and had curls that Adam imagined would be golden in color and a dress with ruffles carved in such a way that it seemed to be flowing in the breeze. Some days she sat down on the grass whispering lullabies to Madeline. Some days she plucked flower heads from her surrounding and sprinkled them over the grave. She was the best guardian, Adam thought, even better than himself. On warm, quiet afternoons, he found himself dozing off to the sound of wind through the branches above. When it was sunny, little boys played in the field down the street and he wished with all his stone heart that he could run alongside them, skipping and tumbling on the pasture with sweat on his brows. Adam wished himself to be a human many, many times but he could not bear to part from his beloved Nathan.

One spring evening, Adam heard a singing voice coming down the road. Adam thought it strange; the closer the voice grew, the more slurred the words became. Finally, over the hill he saw the singing man; red hair dressed in black with a white flower over his heart. His shoes were once shiny but now appeared scuffed and worn from his stumbling feet. In his hands he held a shiny bottle almost empty of its amber contents.

“When peace like a riveaah…attendeth me wayyy…” he sung sloppily putting one foot in front of the other. “When sorrows like sea billowwws roll!” Red stumbled past Adam and fell down beside Kari and Madeline, leaning against the marble memorial.

“What…whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to…sayyy…” He paused then gestured to the sky in a striking display of agony calling out the name of a woman named Norah, crashed on the ground and promptly fell into a fitful sleep.

In the middle of the night, Red woke up with a gurgle in his throat fumbling around in the grass for his bottle. It was right beside him but he couldn’t see in the dark. In his exhaustion he fell back asleep and knocked over the rest of the amber. Adam listened closely beyond the low eaves for the sound of breathing in mournful slumber. When he was sure Red was fast asleep, he stepped down from his pedestal avoiding Nathan’s head.

“I’ll be right back, buddy!” He whispered through the blackness. Creeping through the dark halting at every unfamiliar sound, Adam made his way to Kari. She was off her pedestal and stooping over Red.

“Kari!” Adam called.

“Look what he did to Madeline’s grave. He spilt this wretched liquid all over it and now it reeks!” She picked up the shiny bottle and threw it into the distance. They heard it shatter on the pavement. “Boy, I ought to slap him silly!”

“Shh!” Adam placed his hand over Kari’s mouth. Red stirred next to them murmuring intelligibly. They held their position as all good statues should. 

TBC