Prenderghast Puzzle
Stuk 5: Grave Robbers
January 14th, 2014 – Night
"I don't like this," Salma repeated for the fifth time that night.
"We know." Replied Norman, voice monotone.
"I really don't like this. I feel like we're going to hit somebody's corpse."
"We know." Replied Neil, sounding just as noncommittal.
"Maybe we should just tell the town and the new caretaker can do the digging."
"And maybe you'll make friends with the HPS so they won't deliberately make everything harder for us."
Silence.
"I don't like this."
Norman huffed a groan, leaning on his shovel.
The three of them were all standing in or around a hole about three feet deep. Around them were tombstones and misshapen trees. Salma, camera in hand, was nervously tittering at the top of the hole with Neil next to her, while Norman took his turn at the actual digging.
"It's not like we're robbing anyone's grave, Salma," he huffed, throwing another shovelful of dirt out of the hole. "How were we supposed to know that the graveyard expanded so much?"
"Yeah," agreed Neil. "It's hard to imagine that the graveyard was ever smaller, you know? But I guess it makes sense." Neil nodded his head towards the direction of Mr. Prenderghast's old house, bubbly as ever even though it was nearly eleven at night. "I mean, I doubt anyone would build a house that close to the cemetery intentionally. Especially if Norman's family really built the house. They wouldn't get any sleep around here! Although," he said, eyes wide with realization, "Think of the awesome sleepovers!"
"Considering his Uncle's job, Neil," Salma answered in her typical bored drawl, a sign that at least some part of her was calming down, "I doubt the Prenderghasts built that house. Mr. Prenderghast probably moved in when he became the cemetery's caretaker."
Neil looked stupefied. "Oh. I hadn't thought about that."
Climbing out of the hole, Norman handed the shovel to Neil. "Your turn."
"Cool!" Neil exclaimed. "Do you think if we dig deep enough, we'll see more zombies?"
"No, Neil," Norman said, shaking his head. "I think we're done with zombies."
As Neil scrambled into the hole, Norman turned to Salma. "It makes sense to me if the Prenderghasts had lived up here. Except for Aggie and that guy by the Hopkins House, I've never run into any Prenderghast ghosts anywhere else."
"You mean 'The house proclaiming itself to be the Hopkins House,'" Salma said, sniffing indignantly. "And I'm not saying it's not a possibility, but all Julia ever described their living quarters as is a little house near the edge of the forest with a large herb garden around it. There's no mention of any stable anywhere near them. If this 'Kenneth Prenderghast' really was Julia's contemporary and they lived up here so close to the stable, the stable would have been mentioned in her diary, and it would have been much easier finding out where it was."
"You still could've been a little nicer," Norman said. "Strong Wolf was helping us, it was lucky he even watched Kenneth bury the letters. Just because you can't hear him doesn't mean he can't hear you."
"If the living can be spoken ill of, why not the dead? And vice-versa, of course. I have no problems with saying what I think about someone whether or not I can see them; he was thoroughly disagreeable."
"You couldn't even hear him."
"But I could tell by your reactions. You do the same thing whenever your grandmother says something offensive about your sister; you told me so yourself. You pick and choose the words to repeat."
Norman was silenced by this, brooding over whether he was really that obvious or if Salma was just really smart. It was probably a combination, given his lack of social skills that were only just improving.
"Do you think Sheriff Hooper will arrest us if she finds us digging in the graveyard?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Only after she checks to make sure there's not another round of zombies coming," came a reply from the pit.
"So you were eavesdropping, Neil?" Salma called down to him. "How very unbecoming."
"But you're not quiet at all! How was I supposed to know your conversation was private?" Neil popped his head out of the hole. His face was red from strain and splattered with mud in random places. From the looks of it he'd been itching his nose with a mud-covered finger.
Salma wrinkled her own nose in disgust. "Never mind, Neil. It's my turn now. Come on." Taking out and putting on a pair of rubber gloves, she reached a hand down into the pit and Neil almost pulled her in while trying to get up. Taking the shovel from him, she jumped into the hole.
"Aw man," Neil said to Norman, laughing, "I think I got mud in my underwear, dude."
And yet, Norman noticed, his pants were almost entirely dry. "How did you even manage that?"
"You're not the only strange one here, Norman. I can do things you can't even imagine." Neil took the flashlight from its location at the side of the hole and held it up to his face, probably trying to look scary or dramatic. All it did was caused the beam from the light to shine through his flared nostrils and turn his nose red, the humorous effect completed by Neil bouncing his eyebrows up and down.
Norman laughed as Salma shouted from the hole, "What—Neil! I can't see!"
"Sorry!"
As Neil replaced the flashlight, Norman took his time looking down the hole they'd dug. "You two are good at this," he complimented. "It must be nearly six feet deep!"
"About the right depth to find a grave!" Neil proclaimed cheerfully. The shovel that came flying out of the hole would've hit him in the gut if he hadn't moved.
"Salma no swiping!"
"Shut up!"
"Sorry!" But Neil was still grinning as he passed the shovel back to her; Norman could tell he was enjoying taking advantage of one of the rare moments Salma was nervous. Salma took the shovel and gave a good stab into the dirt at the bottom of the hole.
Thump.
With both Norman and Neil watching, Salma froze.
Norman cheered. "Finally! Who would've thought Kenneth would bury them at funeral depth?"
"Or it could just be a coffin," Neil added, sidestepping the flying shovel entirely this time.
"How am I supposed to pull it out?" Salma enquired once the shovel was back in her hands again.
"Use the shovel for leverage," Norman suggested. Watching her proceed to struggle, he added, "Hold on, give it here."
Taking the shovel from her, he waited for her to get out of the hole. After a few seconds of failed attempts he and Neil were cackling with mirth.
"This. Isn't. Funny!" Salma shouted, jumping up and down and trying to dig into the soggy, half-frozen sides of the hole with her latex-covered fingers. "Get me out of this hole!"
"Sorry," Norman said, still chuckling. "Not very pleasant at night, are you Salma?" He reached down a hand and she took it.
"Just because you've grown like a freaking string bean…" he heard her grumble as he jumped into the hole.
As Norman hacked away at the dirt around the box, Neil asked, "Who's going to take it home?"
"I can't," said Norman from the pit, "If I come back looking like I've robbed the graveyard, my Dad'll flip shit."
"I can't, my mom just cleaned the hallway and she said the next time I play hockey in the mud she'll make me clean it myself. I can't imagine what she'd do if I came back with a box that was buried in the graveyard."
Norman stopped digging and both boys looked at Salma. "What?" she queried. "You expect me to have an easier time? You know I hate dirt spots on the carpet," she said, removing her rubber gloves and inspecting her meticulously clean hands. "It's obvious what we have to do with it. We hide it."
They both looked at each other, then, as if all of them were psychic instead of one, simultaneously looked at the ruined roof of Mr. Prenderghast's house at the edge of the graveyard.
AN: It's the true canon ship, everybody: Salma x the Shovel (possible OT3: Salma x the Shovel x Victim Neil). Also, does it make me a horrible person if I truly wanted to see the kids doing creepy gothic things in a graveyard? Imagine Perry's face if Norman really did bring the box home XD.
I totally forgot to mention ages before, didn't I? Weird. Norman's only twelve and a half here, Salma's a few months younger, and Neil's the oldest, only a month away from turning 13. They're in 7th grade.
Also: I always imagined that when Norman finally got some confidence back, his natural sassiness would become more apparent. It's obvious he's a lovably snarky and sarcastic little brat, but it takes back seat in the movie to his incredible shyness—heck, it may also be a way for him to push aside obvious emotional pain. Either way, the way I see it, the more confident he gets, the more pronounced his rather dark sense of humor will be.
In other words, Teen Norman = Reserved, quiet teen with the inner workings of a minor troll (well, probably).
Sorry, no extra content this time.
Filling in the Hole's Interlude is next—and things slowly begin to come together.