“Greg!.. Greg!..”
The autumn was grey. Shedding leaves from trees and tears from the sky.
“Greg, where are you!?”
“Gabriel! Over here!” - he had a coarse yet refreshingly young voice.
I looked around - old trees and stones… Stones with faces carved on them - grave stones! Ancient, lost in time. People, lost in memories. Silent forever.
Overgrown by roots and splattered with mould - distorted faces were gazing at me. I shivered. Autumn was shedding temperature grades from thermometers.
“Why did you bring me here, Greg?”
Silence… I felt as if I was all alone. The sole witness to observe this garden of human deaths.
Something moved.
“Greg!?” - I stepped closer toward the sound. Dry leaves rustled behind the gravestone.
“Boo! - Greg jumped from behind the stone - C’mon, let’s go. I’ve got something to show you!”
“You… despicab…” - But I had no chance to finish - he grabbed my b y the sleeve of my sweater and dragged me further into the cemetery.
“Here!” - he exclaimed, finally letting me go.
“What?” - I asked, embracing the small dilapidated patch of land paved with cobblestone. It was generously carpeted with grey and brown dead leaves.
“The stone of judgement!” - Greg replied, pointing with his solemn glare at a grey tombstone positioned in a way that makes one to assume that the whole this area was dedicated to it.
The stone was a vertical rectangle, but two through cracks had developed at some point shaping the bottom part into a wedge. One piece of the plate was missing, while another - on the opposite side, still kept in place - was propping the slab of granite, preventing it from falling down.
Greg jumped toward the gravestone, swang his foot and kicked the remaining piece of rock, while yelling “Sledgehammer!”
- That was dumb.
The massive stone slab froze in place for a moment pivoted on the tip of the vedge. Frozen in a position of a startled animal, Greg, with his hands on the ground after he stopped in his motion, glared at it as if waiting for some verdict. Autumn was shedding all the sounds from the air except from sounds of dying leaves hitting the ground driven by wind.
That’s when I noticed a face, carved on the plate. It leaned in a silent reproach, following the weight of the stone and fell to it’s right shoulder.
Greg raised his eyes to meet mine and didn’t avert them until he stood up from the ground.
“So what was all that about? - I frowned, shrugging my shoulders and spreading my hands in a questioning gesture - Was it necessary for something”
“Do you know who she is?” - he asked, pointing at the grave stone.
“Was.” - I corrected.
I stepped closer and squinted my eyes. The portrait carved on the gravestone - it was of a young girl. Her long hair was straight and eyes were sad.
Meanwhile Greg had picked up the chunk of granite from the ground behind and brought it back to the grave.
“D’you know - he continued while leaning to the big slab - They say, when the person dies - God and Devil play a party of checkers so that the winner could take the soul of the deceased to Hell… - he grunted as he grabbed a weighty slab of rock -...or to… - He tensed his back bringing the tombstone to the upright position - ...Heaven. - He exhaled in relief as the stone tucked back to the place of peace it belonged, propped by the missing piece.
“I’m pretty sure it's much more complicated…” - I began, but…
“Exactly!” - he concluded, stepping closer to me.
“You see” - he looked at the portrait of the girl on the gravestone, and back at me - sometimes a certain person suffers so much during their life - the world gives them a right to decide about other’s souls when they're on their way to go…”
He stood right before me. The Autumn had shedded all the blue from the sky, but not from his grey eyes. Everything he was saying was irrelevant to me. The regular bullshit the true him had been hiding all the time. I leaned forward and kissed his lips... Cold on the outside, merely touched by frost, they contained warmth deep within.
“She decided about you…” - he whispered, taking the breath after the kiss…
“Sledgehammer” was my old high school nickname. Don’t ask me why.
Autumn was sripping leaves from the trees. Back then, at the graveyard you wanted to tell me something… more about the dead girl and my faith… But instead you just kissed me back.
Now the winter has stripped all the warmth from your body. Nathaniel holds my hand. The warm glow gently draggs me after him and I’m eager to follow. And I’m leaving you here, my friend. I wish I’d known who’d won that chess game about you.
Comments (0)
See all