Oh, it's really bad, Henry thought.
It's bad not only because he doesn't know where he is, but also because this place where he doesn't know where it is is obviously a cemetery, those tombstones stand orderless like messy grass. Henry doesn't feel scared, he's just confused, confused about why he is here and why there is no exit.
"1,2,1.1,2..."
Rough, and unexpected slogans appeared as it should. Henry stop and turn back, he saw two rows of six soldiers wearing old-fashioned uniforms carrying a coffin coming in his direction. Their pace are consistent surprisingly because of the slogans, and their upper bodies maintained a slightly stiff straight, that the coffin on their shoulder doesn't even shake a little. These soldiers passed by in front of Henry without a hesitation or glance as he doesn't exist, but Henry cannot ignore other human beings - except himself - in this dead silence cemetery...even if they seem a little odd. So he follow up without a word, intuition told him asking will not bring anything useful.
"1,2,1.1,2,1.1,2,STOP." That soldier in the first platoon which shout the slogans give out a loud order, then the strange honor guard stopped, Henry saw a dug grave in front of them. Six soldiers put down the coffin from their shoulders silently and tacitly, they stand on the tow side of the grave, hold the ropes which attach with the coffin firmly and put this huge wooden box down into the grave. It's a very normal coffin, normal and...crude, cheap or you would say, you will not even bear to use it to bury your normal friend. But in different of other coffins, it doesn't have crucifix on it, instead there is a pair of dark red concentric circles.
All of the six people immediately look straight into him, scared him with a shake within the spine, he felt he can almost hear the wind when they turned their heads in the same second. Then the soldier which stand most close to him walked over, Henry stand stiffly in there do not know exactly how to react, until the man with a resolute face put a thing into his hand.
Henry look down and open his palm. It's a graver.
What does this mean?
Henry staring at the graver confused, the wooden handle is heavier then he expected. At this time the soldier grab his arm, politely but irresistibly lead him to the front of the grave, hold him on the shoulder to let him go squat. Henry kneel down on one knee, left hand propped soft damp soil, a blank gravestone was facing him.
"Inscribe." The man, who give out the order, speak loudly.
"I don't kno..."
"Inscribe." He repeat irresistibly, didn't even let him finish a complete sentence.
"It doesn't make sense..." Henry cursed whispered, shook his head and wanted to stand up, but the powerful hands of the soldier fiercely pressed him back and repeated that order third time.
"Inscribe."
Henry staring at that blank gravestone angrily and helplessly, he held out his hand and touched it, rough stone surface friction with his fingertips. He knows that he must finish something, he must, he has his mission here. And...yes in fact he knows what should he do, he is not an ignorant outsider who broke in accidentally, on the contrary he is in the center of everything, he stands in those concentric circles.
Henry raise the graver. Without the auxiliary tools like hammer he can only get this done by brute force, possibly the result will not look good but who cares.
1
Small pieces of stone hit on his face, Henry almost didn't feel it as the hot pain on his clavicle attracted all his attention. The skin of there was slitted, as he carve on the hard tombstone curved traces also left on his body, red. Henry exhale breath trembling, and once again he hold up the graver.
1
Simple shape means barbaric procedure. This notch is terrible deep, Henry feels the warm sticky blood wet his shirt on the chest.
1,2
The sharp pain crawling on his clavicle slowly. Henry feels as if he is carving on his body rather than on the tombstone. Those flesh around the wound evert outside, covered by the outflowing blood.
1
11121. The owner of the grave doesn't have name, his name is a secret, a well known secret, but still a secret. Henry slightly caresses those numbers, his body incline forward, the pain on his clavicle makes him feel difficult to breath and uncontrollable dizziness.
"Hey, stand up." Somebody tapped him on the shoulder.
Henry grabbed that hand immediately, the owner of that hand seemed shocked, but still hold on to his arm. Henry stand up with the help of that gay, eyes swept from the vitality grass beside his foot, stone road stretching into the distance and the elderly cemetery caretaker, outrageous blue sky, and finally set at the young man holding on his body.
"I know it's difficult..." The man soothing squeezed Henry's shoulder, and put the tie into his black suit for him, "I mean...We are all very sad, but this is our last chance to accompany her and you shouldn't hide from this."
Henry dazed follows the man toward to a group of men and women that gathering together, dressing in black. They are not very neat, but orderly around a unburied grave, a silver-haired priest standing next to a tombstone is reading the Bible in his hand with a sad tone. Henry carefully squeeze inside from the outside, during this he hit the arm of an old lady wearing black armbands who is praying with folded arms, he whispered apology panic and immediately got her forgiveness. Finally he came to the front, shiny black coffin quiet place in the grave with the upper part left open, Henry saw Eileen pretty face. She looks like asleep, instead of about to be buried and farewell forever to this vibrant world just like she is.
"Eileen..." Henry lowered his eyes, like a sigh as he remembered the name of the female neighbor. He should protect her regardless whether Eileen herself wanted to help Sullivan, it was his responsibility, but he failed, thoroughly...
"What?"
"What...?" Henry turned his head and saw Eileen is standing next to him, just her, wearing her pink vest and shorts, healthy enough to go to the health food advertising, so much different from the miserable look when she with the plaster and a lame leg. She is holding an arm of Henry and smiling easily, with a white rose on her other hand.
"Why did you call me?"
"No, I..." Henry hesitated for a second, didn't know what to say, do you want him to tell her "I'm sorry you have been twisted into tomato sauce by those gears", "I'm just glad that you are still alive."
"You saved me, Henry!" Eileen gives off happy laughter, "and you saved yourself. The nightmare is over, no one died, and there is no funeral."
"The nightmare is over..."
"Yes, it,s over. We can go back to the normal life, just like the past. The only thing I missed is a party of my friend, and you Henry, you can continue to enjoy the life and sunshine, with your camera, take pictures for the things you love. Besides, I think we can have a little..."
"No." He interrupts Eileen's gushing imagination bluntly, "I'm going back."
"Henry..." Eileen's smile becomes a little sad, "Poor Henry..."
"I really wish you're still alive, Eileen, so many times I hope I have saved you. But anyway I will stay there, I never...at least after, didn't intent to save myself."
"Is he even worthwhile to give up the whole world for you?"
"Even more important." Henry laughed, "you will never understand."
"Rest in peace, Henry Townsend." Eileen gives the rose to Henry, the loving smile on her face has never disappeared, "You are the last one, the 21th, The Receiver of Wisdom. And this is your funeral."
19 people lined up in long lines passed by the tomb, they throw the white roses in their hands into the grave, and then stand quiet around, praying with the hands on the chests. Henry silently looks at the face of himself in the upper half opened coffin, the numbers on his clavicle like a mysterious spell.
"Henry?" Eileen called his name slightly, soft palm covers on his hand which is holding the rose, suggestive urges. Henry closes his eyes, stretches his arm and releases the hand, the sound of the rose landed on the coffin echos clearly.
He can hear the lid hit on the wooden coffin, the sound heavily crashed into his eardrum. He lying flat, lying in absolute darkness, unspeakable sixth sense extends out, feeling the dirt fill his grave little by little.
He was buried.
Henry didn't move or think or even breathe. He just stayed there, stayed in his own grave just like all the other deads who has not belong to that world, waiting for an unexpected change, maybe the sudden insight for the eternal maybe a thoroughly sleep...but anyway this process in long enough to make you almost forget that time will be flowing, will be running, will be here before the line...in here time is visible solids, curdles and fills in every inch of the tiny space that you can be aware of .
Sedimentary soil loosed. Out extended tentacles of awareness keenly noticed the change outside this small world, Henry's sleeping perceptions eagerly waked themselves up little by tittle. Lobes opened, joints bent, pupils shrunk. He got ready to accept anything that is trying to invade his peace with incredible speed.
The incoming light is not very harsh, even for his eyes which have almost forgotten how to blink, but there is another thing that hurts them, it's a group pouring of gold, like some beautiful golden silk. Squinting Henry raised his stiff arm - it's somehow painful - and his hand is immediately gripped by another broad and powerful hand, a man's hand, then his upper body is pulled up and tightly leans on another, decadent spine gives off overwhelmed moan. His chapped lips ushered in a kiss, as if is celebrating that he is finally, finally into the death.
Henry opened his eyes, the ceiling of the room 302 is looking back on him blankly, it's not a metaphor, Henry singed to that Wallman which just stuck a little head there. This tiny movement waked up Walter that sleeping on his shoulder, the golden-haired murderer winked drowsily, stretched, the naked waist exposed from the quilt as the marvelous sculpture of the Renaissance.
"Walter, can we go to the real world beside the apartment?"
"Of course, otherwise how did I brought my corpse back, you think, let those dogs hold it in mouth?" Walter props his golden head on an arm, hickey around his neck remind Henry of those sensuality expressions and obscene words of this man, "Why."
"I feel a little shame, I should have gone to my funeral. I bet few people on this world have the opportunity to watch how they are buried."
Walter squints his green eyes like it sounds very funny:"I really didn't know that you have this kind of interest, ."
"And..."Henry also lays sideways, but he can't support his head because his arm is still around Walter's naked shoulders, so he can just leans it on the bedside (Damn it's a little hurt), "Walter, I want to bury your corpse together with mine."
"Wha..." Walter's eyes widened in surprise. This idea sounds so not for them so...romantic and humane.
"Think about it." Henry pulled over Walter's hand, kisses on its back and knuckles carefully, "you and me, in the same coffin, hugging each other sleeping forever in the quiet darkness, just like we will forever linger in this never-ending dream. We dug out the soil of the grave, leave two white roses that will never be seen on the lid of our coffin, they will decay into tiny dust..."
"Let me remind you, Henry," Walter laughed, "you hare dead for ten years, digging your grave will absolutely not be as theatrical as you said."
"And let me remind you, that your corpse are hung for twenty years, I'm afraid we must put it together piece by piece when we transform it to the cemetery."
Walter quiet down, he staring straight into Henry's brown eyes, and finally he began to say:"I like this idea, even thought you may now just a pile of bones." He leaned forward, leaves a kiss on Henry's lips, "Happy 10th death anniversary, Henry."
"Happy 10th cohabitation anniversary, Walter." Henry answered pleasurably. Recalled that dream he felt, he doesn't regret for choosing death at all.
Follow-up
"Eileen, Walter and I are going to the cemetery to see how our corpses like now, do you want to come?"
"...Freaks."