Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, I promise to play nicely with them and bring them back in time for supper. And if anyone thinks fans make any money out of fanfic they need their heads examined. -S.

Author's Notes: WARNING: This is a permanent death story. If such material upsets you, don't read.

Comments are more than welcome at sarahenany@hotmail.com

The Visit

Y' know, it's funny. When I tell people I'm a gravekeeper, they give me this weird look, like I came from Mars. I've read my Hamlet, I know what people think. Well, I got news for 'em: it's not the tragedy they make it out to be. For one thing, I got people on the other side. Some of my best friends are dead people. I look to be joining them one day. In our culture we're scared of death. The Ancient Egyptians had the right idea. They'd plan who they'd meet, arrange for jobs on the other side, and take all their stuff with them in their graves ready to party when they got there. But I digress. The other reason is it's a great place to observe humanity. You get all kinds here.

Me, I need to observe humanity. See, I'm writing a new novel. The last one didn't do too badly, got some great reviews and is starting to sell pretty well. My agent wanted me to move to a more upmarket locale, get a studio somewhere classy to meet the reporters. Flash: The reporters found out I lived here... and ATE IT UP. I couldn't get rid of 'em for a while. Now things have finally quieted down, I really want to get to work.

Right now I'm writing about this guy I see here. Pretty normal-looking middle-aged guy, about fifty, brown hair, real professional looking in the sport jacket and tie. He's a lawyer. Well-known, too. Don't want to tell his name yet, I'll think up a fictional one for him to hold off the lawsuits. Real pillar of the community. Pots of money, gorgeous wife, two kids in high school. Drives this incredible red street machine. Must have cost him a bundle.

Only there's something about him that's real funny here. On the inside, he ain't your regular middle-aged lawyer type. I can't figure out what makes him tick. He comes down to visit this guy's grave - I gotta think up a name for him, too - like clockwork, every month or so. Not every Wednesday or Sunday like some folks, not like there's a fixed time to do it, but like he just couldn't stay away. Like if he didn't come, he'd die. And he's been doing it for six years now. Weird. This isn't your regular duty visit. These types don't usually come to a place like this unless someone's at their back with a weapon. Not guys, anyway. Women, sometimes.

Another thing. People like him visit the dear departed, they usually like that other people should know about it. Make sure there's someone to give an anonymous tip to a reporter to tell the world how big-hearted the person is. Human interest story. Great for your rep. Especially since this is a hotshot lawyer visiting the grave of one of the city's most famous - oops, gotta watch it. Almost gave too much away there. The thing is, anyway, that this guy moves like a shadow, slips in and out of here like a ghost. He'll hide if he sees someone coming. Not out of shame, but almost like he was having a private conversation and didn't want eavesdroppers. Never seen a public figure do that before.

Next funny thing he does, when he comes in the graveyard, first thing he does, he takes off his tie and puts it in his pocket. Like he was afraid that - hey, I know it sounds silly, but it's almost as if he was afraid the dead guy would make fun of him for wearing a tie.

Then there's the way he behaves at the grave, like he understood what it was all about. Like the Ancient Egyptians. He doesn't act scared, cry or pray much like some folks. No, he just sits on that marble stone, not respectful or anything, and starts talking to that dead guy in the grave like he was alive and could hear him. Take the last time he was here. He sits on the gravestone and starts off.

"Hi, Milt."

Then the guy just sits there for a minute like there was an answer. Crazy!

"I know I haven't been round to see ya much lately. Brian's graduation was last week. Couldn't get away till after. He says he wants to be a hotshot lawyer like his dad." Then he chuckled. "Thay already accepted him in the freshman prgram. He'll start this fall."

He looked around a bit. I got one thing to say for the grounds here, they sure are peaceful. Then the guy sighs.

"I went round to the estate last week. You'd like it, Milt." Don't know why he insists on calling that place 'the estate'. Sometimes he calls it something else, too - something Sway. Who knows? The whole city knows it as the Milton C. Hardcastle Basketball Camp For Underprivileged Kids. You know, the kids from the ghettos and the homeless ones. You get groups of kids coming and going in and out all year. This guy is a big benefactor. As well as that camp, he runs this incredible shelter for these kids. The Mayor was just saying that the camps were a ray of hope for the underprivileged children of the city.

The guy's still talking. "Harold really knows how to get through to the kids. They look up to him. He's a great role model. You'd be proud of him." The mayor made a big fuss of this Harold Eugene Thomas a while ago. Great news potential. Ex-Hub City Cobras Gang Member Turns Mentor To Gang Kids. Real young to be running that shelter, but doing a great job of it. He made a big difference. "Sarah says hi. She's doing a great job taking care of the kids too. Sometimes I think that was the only thing that kept her from-" He hesitates a moment. "From falling apart after you died." I'm not sure who this Sarah is, but he's always talking about her. I figure she was the wife. Probably too old by now to come all the way out here. "She cared about you a lot. I guess you knew that. If you didn't, you're even more of a prize jackass than I think you are, and that's a pretty long pair of ears."

He takes a deep breath, and his face kind of crumples in on itself. I've seen that look before, it usually means he's either getting deep thoughts or remembering something. "I want you to know the reason why I did that to the estate, Milt. I appreciated that you left it to me, but I couldn't live there." He kind of sighs. "Too many memories, I guess. I did try. But everywhere I sat, everywhere I looked there you were." He gives this little self-conscious laugh. "God knows I spent enough time trying to get rid of you when you were alive. I couldn't live with you haunting me. Besides, you're the one who was always wanting to reform people - this seemed like a good way to carry on."

He just listens to the birds for a minute. "We're starting to get funds from the community. Businesses, private sponsorship. In a few years it won't be such a drain on the bank-account." He laughs again. "I always knew you were filthy rich, I just never thought you'd..." Another sigh. He's due to get quiet about now. Sure enough. "I'm trying to be sensible about spending it, Hardcase. Wouldn't want you chewing me out when I see you again. Bet you would, too. Probably shove that harp right up my ass." A grin starts to play around his mouth. "Only you wouldn't have a harp, would you? You'd likely still be playing that damn trumpet. Come to think of it, I'm surprised the heavenly host hasn't put in for a transfer by now. I can just see the Courthouse Racketeers shuffling off this mortal coil one by one and joining you up there, dragging their instruments. Now that's a scary thought." He's laughing now. "And basketball! You playing basketball up there? I'm really sorry for them, you know that?"

He chuckles for a minute, then gets serious again. "Sometimes I wonder why I come down here to talk to you. God knows I talk to you everywhere, every day. But this is the only place I can talk to you out loud without people thinking I'm crazy. I know, I know, one of the things I learned from you was to be my own person no matter how dumb it seemed - and with you, things could get pretty dumb real fast!" That laugh again. I can't figure it. He starts out serious, but it's almost like he finds just talking to this guy's memory fun enough to cheer him up. "But what would you think of a lawyer coming into your courtroom talking to himself?"

He stands, turns to go. Turns back. "Forgot to tell you. They found out about Teddy making up all that stuff on his CV. But he was doing so good at the job they decided to keep him anyway." He turns to go again. Turns back, hesitates. Turns to go. I'm beginning to wonder here if he's going to do the thing he's done only once before. I think he is.

He turns back again. Walks up real close to the headstone. Looks around real careful to see if anyone's watching. I quickly duck out of sight. It's a strain, but I can just hear him speaking. "I never forgot what you said about your son being in your heart." His face tightens. He looks all around for a minute, down at the gravel path, round at the peaceful forest of stones, up at the cherry trees just coming into bloom. Then he leans close to the stone and whispers. "You're in my heart, Milt."

He turns away and starts to walk off down the gravel path, towards the gate. Shucks, I think, I figure he's not gonna do it after all. But he hesitates, stands quite still for a moment. His face is a study in indecision. Then he hurries back to the grave, looks all round again, leans over, closes his eyes, and presses his lips against the white marble.

He stays like that for a heartbeat. Then he's gone, flowing down the path like a shadow, slipping through the gates like a ghost.

I listen to him gunning the motor of that monster he drives. He revs the engine once, twice, then peels out of the lot. I listen to the sound of the car fading away. I keep listening till I can't hear it any more.

~end~

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