The Fresh Grave

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It was the only light to be seen for miles and was a beacon for two teen runaways. Robbie and Amanda had left their homes immediately after graduating with the Class of 1998, to start a life together away from the oppressive surroundings of their childhood. Their high school romance, unwavering in intensity, was the impetus throwing them forward into a future together. Their determination to be together forever blocked common sense and logic, and despite the woeful lectures by their parents, they remained fasted to each other in perpetuity.

Robbie’s, very used car, pitifully sputtered along the craggy forest road. In the distance the light drew them in echoing like a siren song. The car’s rusted frame and ancient engine begrudgingly trudged the couple to the drive of the lighted cabin where, after numerous hours driving without breaking, they decided to seek lodging for the night. Amanda was fearful to knock on a strange door, but Robbie assured her he was there to protect her. The petit, wide-eyed, blond dutifully stood behind her puffed-up, broad-shouldered hero. They approached the door and could faintly hear some anticipatory rumbling and shuffling going on inside the cabin. Robbie gingerly knocked on the rustic portal. There was a pregnant pause before the dweller, as if to not seem too eager, unhinged the latch, and opened just of hint of entry to survey the weary couple.

“May I help you?” droned the elderly man before them. The man had a sinewy appearance, concave in stature with a hollowed-out face, sunken eyes, both outlined with a gray circular hue.

“We have been driving for hours, our car is on its last leg, and we are hungry and exhausted. We were wondering if you might put us up for the night,” Robbie nervously inquired.

“Come in young people,” responded the man. “You are welcome here. Come and rest yourselves by the fire.”

“Thank you so much,” squeaked timid Amanda, peaking her head from behind her beloved. Robbie and Amanda approached the hearth, choked up with relief.

“Elspeth darling, we have company,” croaked the man in the direction of the only other room in the cabin.

The cabin was ancient, centuries old. The sparse furniture was rustic and hewn from the surrounding forest. The fire was at first welcoming, but as the couple drew closer the flames threw off an ominous sputter. They were so tired; they suppressed the foreboding that gently gnawed upon their souls.

Out from the chamber adjacent to them, emerged a small, frail, crone. She was hunched and fragile with the suggested illusion that beneath that sallow skin her bones were dried and mummified like an ancient dweller of a sarcophagus. Her gray hair was wisped into a small knot atop her head, and she wore a frock of yellowed white lace. She smiled, revealing what few remained of her amber teeth.

“Charles, who are our young guests?” she crowed in a voice that was befitting her appearance.

“Two weary travelers seeking refuge from the darkness of the eve my Dearest,” he responded with a loving lilt directed toward his ancient bride.

“Well, well, how wonderful!” she exclaimed.

The young couple swallowed their silent, shocked gasps after accepting their initial impression of the grisly couple. There was an awkward silence as both couples measured up the other. The old couple looked weary, as if they worked extremely hard all their lives. Their fingernails were dirty, and etched with permanent, embedded dirt. Between them, they exuded a musty, earthy, wormlike scent.

Charles explained they were the caretakers of the cemetery over the horizon of the cabin. “We have not stayed at the caretaker’s cabin in years but decided tonight would be a good night to open it. I am glad we did because you young folk would have been stranded without lodging.” He went on to explain that greater than a century ago, there was a small town nearby. His ancestors were founders and residents and the two grew up and met in the town. As years went by the opportunity for existence proved slim, people either left, or ended up dying there and being buried in the cemetery. Elspeth chimed in and described how the two of them had met, fell in love, and had married, despite resistance from their parents. They stayed in the town and became caretakers of the cemetery. They often longed to be released from their duties but had never found the right people to assume their legacy.

Amanda and Robbie explained how they were running away to be married and gave a brief synopsis of their misunderstood relationship. The couples discussed the commonality between them as Charles related how Elspeth’s family could never tolerate his presence and how they were forced to elope. Charles and Elspeth were never forgiven by their families and Charles went as far as telling the couple that Elspeth’s Father had cursed and doomed their relationship robbing them of their peace. After sharing a modest bite of cheese and bread Amanda and Robbie subsequently bedded down in front of the fireplace, entombed in worn but warm quilts and soft, feather pillows.

In the morning, the couples continued bonding over strong coffee and biscuits. The old couple offered a tour of the grounds and Amanda and Robbie agreed, even though the idea seemed macabre and creepy. The old couple led them to, and begged then to behold, their labor of love. They toured the immaculate, manicured lawns and marveled over the ornate headstones. They happened upon two freshly covered graves adorned by a joint headstone. Immediate curiosity arose as to why the graves where mounded with dirt and appeared as they were freshly filled. No grass grew, no flowers graced the headstone. It seemed odd for a graveyard so settled and mature.

“You are noticing these graves look fresh, aren’t you?” inquired Charles. “Well, there is a ghost story that accompanies your inquires. If you would like to hear it.”

Amanda and Robbie’s interest were piqued, and Amanda’s wide eyes opened ever so slightly more as to absorb the gaunt caretaker’s tale.

Charles began his tale. “For years Elspeth and I have worked diligently to tend the graves. These graves always appear as freshly dug. Each time we are here, we rake them, tamp them, plant grass seed and flowers but to no avail. When we return, they appear as fresh as the day they were dug and filled. No one can explain why this happens, but there are tales that the poor souls who lie in these graves dig themselves free from their entombment in search of peace from unfinished earthly business. When they fail to find the answer to their quest they return to their resting place until they arise again to haunt the misty forest and abandoned town searching for fulfillment and rest.” When Charles observed the chilling reaction from the young couple, he quickly offered a plausible explanation that included tales of local vandals who wanted to keep the legend alive to scare their younger contemporaries. The young couple sighed and nervously giggled at the sensible explanation.

The foursome hiked back to the cabin and ate a quick bite. As evening approached, the elderly duo made their apologies and told the youngsters they must return to their home. The elders explained the guests could stay at the cabin, if they wished, but should lock up when they decided to depart. A key was located under the front step. Amanda and Robbie were sad at the thought of saying goodbye as they felt an understanding connection with this couple even though they were generations apart.

The young couple stayed another week, enjoying the quiet and peace, laying quietly in the forest and watching the trees tops sway amidst the swirling winds. If only they could stay forever, but they knew they must move along and continue their quest to settle into their new lives together.

“Robbie?” questioned Amanda. “I keep thinking about those fresh graves. I would like to go back and look closer at the headstones to see when those people died."

“Me too!” agreed Robbie.

After gathering their belongings and packing up the car, they hiked to the graveyard. They once again scoped the landscape and admired its sereneness and beauty.

“Honestly, stated Amanda, “Caretaking this place would not be half bad, in a morbid kind of way!” she joked. Robbie laughed, and hand in hand they made their way to the mysterious, fresh graves.

They knelt on the turbulent dirt and brushed away the obscuring dust of the joint tombstone, curious about the names and death dates of the occupants. As the etched names were slowly revealed the couple suddenly turned pale, became diaphoretic, their stomachs ebbed into instant waves of nausea.

Amanda’s voice quivered as she read, “Here lies Charles and Elspeth Turner. Died together in a horse accident on the day they married. They betrayed their kin and shall have no peace. Cursed to roam until they find a caretaker for their home.”

“Both born in 1872 and died in 1898,” whispered Robbie. With hearts bounding, the couple reached for each other in a petrified embrace, when in an instant, two sets of withered arms clawed out from under the dirt and grasped the couple in a death thrall grip. It happened so quickly, there was no chance to refute, and in another instant, there was only morbid silence except the mournful wind blowing through the tall trees and the smell of re- distributed dirt on the fresh grave.

It was one hundred years later when once again the candle was lit in the window of the little cabin. In the yard was a rusted, old, jalopy which had been there so long, an actual tree, of considerable girth, was growing through it. The night was wind filled, rainy, and dismal when a knock came from outside the cabin door. The occupant opened the door and gazed upon the drenched, young, lost couple who were asking for directions and for a place to dry off and warm up for the night.

“Please come in beckoned the elderly man. Warm yourself by the fire. My name is Robert, and this is my beloved, Amanda. We are the caretakers of the graveyard you see in the horizon.”