Wow, this one was a bit of a tear jerker for me. perhaps I am just to tender hearted.
Anyways, enjoy and remember to review at the end.
December 20th
Bee had kept quiet for then entire drive but when we pulled through the large metal gates and he seen the row after row of dark stone, the damn broke. "What is this place?" he clicked curiously, looking out the window. It was mostly empty, people lingering here and there.
"Cemetery." I answered, pulling the car to the side and turning it off. Stretching into the backseat, I grabbed four bundles of roses, all different colors and pushed open the door. Climbing out, I looked around to see it mostly empty, couple people lingering here and there. Of course there was the occasional ghost. It was a cemetery after all.
Eyes squinting against the roaring, chilled wind, I tugged the tan jacket closer and was thankful for the sweater and thick slacks I dawned before leaving the house. "Cemetery?"
Looking over at Bee, his confusion was plain as day on his face. When I started being able to read his face is beyond me. "It's a place we bury our dead." starting down a stone path, he followed and peered closer at the stone heads. We only went a short distance before stopping at four graves. All four looked to be old, grass grown over them but one set was a little less green. "Things are done very different here, Bee."
"Apparently…"
Kneeling by one of the graves, Grace Stark, I smiled softly and placed a kiss on the curved top. "Hello momma." then I placed a kiss on the grave next to hers. Melvin Stark. "Daddy." freeing the dead bundles of roses from all four graves, I replaced them then stood. "Bee, meet my parents. Gracie and Mel Macky." I turned my body slightly to face the spirited Yautja warrior. "Momma, daddy…this is Bee. Highly respected elder and warrior of the Yautja race." stepping back, I gestured to the two graves opposite theirs. "And this is my nani and nonno. Herbert and Agatha Macky."
His head cocked, peering at the stone heads and clicked in question. "What is the point?"
"So that we may visit their graves, when ever we wish." he trilled in confusion and I bit my lip in thought. Thinking back on what he's told me of his people, I tried to find a good comparison. "It's…sorta like armor. How when someone passes ya mount it for those to come and pay respects. Same concept."
"Many people come to repay their respects?" he wondered, looking over the many, many graves.
"Well, not to specifically one grave really. All these tombstones are for different persons and there are multiple families covering the grounds. Probably hundreds buried here. People come to visit their family and friends…like I am."
"Is every fallen body a warrior?"
"Nah. Like my parents, they passed from a freak accident but my grandparents, they went because of natural causes. a lot of people go by natural causes, when they are up in age. Some go because of cancer…" I trailed off at seeing his confusion at cancer. "Er, disease."
"Are there no warriors of your people?" he then asked and I am sure he knows there are. He has hunted humans before.
"Yah." nodding, I gestured to nonno and daddy's grave. "They were both in the military, warriors for our country. There's a cemetery, in like Washington I think, that have many of the US soldiers buried there. There's a monument with the name of every fallen solider. It just depends on the person or their family where they are placed."
"Hm."
A soft crying caught my attention and I looked toward it to see a child crumbled on a fresh grave, crying his little heart out. Above him hovered a woman, also crying but unable to touch him. It was almost like she was floating in water, the skirt of wispy blue-white dress she wore and her dark hair about her. A spirit, his mother perhaps.
Making a staying motion toward Bee, I crossed the short distance to the child. When I was close, my eyes flickered toward the woman. Seemingly feeling my stare, she looked back and gasped in surprise. "Y-y-you can see me?" she asked, a silver of hope in her voice and I nodded.
"My son!" she wept, reaching for him but her fingers passed through him like smoke.
"Where's his dad?" I asked in a soft voice, as to not disturb his grief.
"He ran from him and my family. I was just buried and he came straight here."
"I'll take him back." I assured and kneeled beside the crying boy. Sweeping him into my arms, he struggled to break free but my grip was strong…plus, he was only like four or five. His mother began singing, a song I was all to familiar with. Jar of Hearts, by Christina Perri. One of the things that happens when seeing a spirit, if they are strong enough, I sometimes channel them.
"No, I can't take one more step towards you. 'Cause all that's waiting is regret. Don't you know I'm not your ghost anymore. You lost the love I loved the most." his cries quieted to whimpers, listening to my soothing voice and his arms moved to circle my neck. "I learned to live, half alive and now you want me one more time."
"Allen? Allen, where are you?" the shouts sounded far.
"Brent, my husband!" the woman gasped.
Changing my direction, I started toward the calling and shifting the boy to my hip. "Who do you think you are? Runnin' 'round leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts and tearing love apart. You're gonna catch a cold, from the ice inside your soul. So don't come back for me. Who do you think you are?"
"Allen?" the calls were getting louder, so I knew we were getting closer.
Looking down at the boy, he was staring up at me already with big blue eyes. "Do me favor Allen?" my head cocked and he just blinked. "I know ya momma's gone for the long sleep, but you know she loves ya, right?" he nodded slowly. "And as long as ya always remember her'ere," I poked his chest, where the heart was and he giggled softly. "She's never truly gone."
"I miss her." he sniffled.
"I know honey but...ya know ya daddy misses her to." again, he nodded. "Ya can't just run off like that. He must be terrified when he noticed ya gone. Ya haveta be strong Allen, for ya daddy."
"But I want my mommy." he cried and hearing his pleas, his mother gave a ghostly wail.
"I know, I know." hugging him toward me, he started crying again. "One day ya understand. It's okay to cry, ya miss her but ya still have ya daddy, right?" sniffling, he nodded. "Then channel all ya energy to him. Use him for ya support. I am sure he would love a distraction."
"Oh my god, Allen!" the relieved voice had me looking up to see a black haired man running toward us. At his back were other people, maybe ten others that varied in age and sex. When close enough, he swept the boy from my arms, hugging him like his life depended on it then sent me a thankful look.
I smiled back, nodding and turned to go back to my own family and spirits. As I walked back, Bee appeared at my side and just stared at me inquisitively. "Ok, so having this gift isn't always a curse."
