Cemetery Closing

by Jeff Strand

  He’d had an amazing girlfriend, Samantha, who almost became his fiancée. After the first nightmarish experience, they’d stayed together, but after the second nightmarish experience Samantha had decided that this was perhaps one nightmarish experience too many, and that this kind of thing was probably going to keep happening to them. Because she loved him, she waited for his many injuries to mostly heal before she broke up with him. Roger had asked if they could remain friends, but Samantha explained that it wasn’t about their relationship status but rather their proximity to each other, so no, they could not. After one last wild romp in the bedroom, which popped a few of Roger’s stitches, they never saw each other again.

  He returned to the kitchen a few minutes later with a clean baby. But now Brianna needed her diaper changed, so I excused myself.

  With that done, we returned to sipping our coffee.

  “You look sadder than usual,” I said.

  Roger shrugged and nodded. “Maybe.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you remember how I said I wasn’t going to stalk Samantha on Facebook?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I decided that it was okay to stalk her as long as she didn’t know about it. I check up once or twice a day, a little more on weekends, no big deal. She has a boyfriend now. They made it official three hours and twenty minutes ago.”

  “Oh, jeez, I’m sorry.”

  “I knew it was bound to happen. She’s gorgeous, and intelligent, and funny, and beautiful, and smart, and witty, and attractive, and brainy, and amusing, so she couldn’t stay single forever. I guess I just thought it would happen after I quit checking her status updates.”

  “Does he look like a total douchebag?”

  Roger shook his head. “He seems nice. I doubt he’ll put her life in mortal danger.”

  “It’s good that she’s happy, right?”

  Roger stared at me for a very long time.

  “Maybe it’s time for you to get out there, too,” I said. “Lose the beard, and—”

  “What’s wrong with my beard?”

  “Your beard is horrible, Roger. I tell you that every time I see you. Your particular face was not designed to have hair sprouting out of it. It’s awful. You look like a cannibal. I don’t mean like Hannibal Lecter, I mean like the kind of cannibals you’d encounter if your car breaks down on a dirt road miles from civilization.”

  Roger stroked his beard. “I think it looks fine.”

  “If a squirrel popped out of it, right now, I wouldn’t even flinch. I just naturally assume that there are forest creatures living in there. It’s a bad choice for you. I’m not trying to be judgy, but damn does that beard suck.”

  “What does Helen think of it?”

  “Helen only sees blurs right now. But have you noticed that Theresa stays eight to ten feet away from you at all times?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s the beard.”

  “Well, it’s too late now.”

  “What are you talking about? It’s a beard. It’s not permanently attached to your face. You can make it go away anytime you want. I’ll let you borrow a razor right now.”

  Roger wiped a tear from his eye.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I wonder if Samantha is shaving her legs for Chad right now. Her legs were always so smooth. So, so smooth. But Chad’s an animal rights activist, so maybe he likes women who don’t shave their legs very often. He’s always posting pictures of his three dogs. Samantha likes dogs, but three is a lot. What if they get aggressive?”

  “Hold on, are you Facebook stalking Chad, too?”

  “We’re not talking about me right now,” said Roger.

  “Maybe you should stay off social media for a while.”

  “Yeah.” Roger took a sip of his coffee. “I miss A/R Tasks & Investigations.”

  That was the business we’d tried to open together. On our first day, a woman named Shirley had walked into our office and said that she thought she might be a serial killer. Our day had declined significantly after that.

  “Me too.”

  “Maybe we should give it another shot.”

  “You get that I’m a stay-at-home dad, right? Like, the only reason I’m not working a desk job is because it would pay less than the cost of daycare. How do you think Helen would react if I told her that I wanted to re-open our disastrous business? She would react poorly, that’s how. Very, very poorly.”

  “I meant when the triplets are in school.”

  “So five years from now. Sure, if I’m still alive five years from now, we’ll consider reopening A/R Tasks & Investigations.”

  Roger glanced up at the ceiling. “Do you hear that?”

  “What?”

  “It sounds like Helen is choking to death.”

  “No, that’s just the way she snores sometimes.”

  “It’s unnerving.”

  “Maybe you should get out of here for a while,” I said. “Clear your head. Take a vacation.”

  “The last time I took a vacation we—”

  “I know, I know. I was there. Take a better vacation.”

  “You look like you could use some time off, too,” said Roger. “Maybe both of us should get away for awhile.”

  “I honestly can’t tell if that’s a cruel joke or if you’re serious.”

  “I was serious while the words were spilling out of my mouth, and then I immediately realized what I’d said and thought, ‘Wow, what a stupid thing to say.’ I know that you don’t get to take vacations anymore.”

  “But that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

  “Maybe I should.”

  “You should.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Good.”

  “Maybe I’ll wander the earth. Just start walking and go wherever my feet take me. That would get my mind off Samantha, Chad, and Chad’s dogs, right?”

  “Or you could go to the beach. I hear the beach is nice.”

  Roger shifted Cecilia from his right knee to his left, then frowned. “I think she has a poopy diaper again. How is that even biologically possible?”

  “I don’t know. Theresa and Kyle knew how to fill a diaper, trust me. But these three together are trying to disprove the scientific theory about how you can’t create matter out of nothingness. I know how much they eat, and I swear to you there is more coming out than going in.”

  Roger stood up. “I’ll take care of it.”

  I almost said, “No, no, I’ll do it,” but then I realized that would be a foolish thing to say. I cooed at Brianna and tried to make her laugh until Roger got back.

  “I am going to take a vacation,” he said as he sat down.

  “Great! The beach or walking the earth?”

  “A road trip.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “Should I invite Samantha?”

  “I’m gonna say no.”

  “What if—hear me out—what if now—just hear me out—what if now that she’s in a relationship she’s suddenly realized that—no, the logic there doesn’t really work, maybe it’s not a good idea.”

  “Don’t invite Samantha on your road trip.”

  “I’m not going to, okay? Jesus.”

  Five days later, while Cecilia and Rose were mercifully asleep in their cribs and Helen was feeding Brianna, Roger called. I was making dinner—not a gourmet one—so I put him on speaker.

  “Hey, Andrew!” he said.

  “Hi! How’s your road trip going?”

  “I’ve almost made it to Georgia.”

  We lived in Florida. “You haven’t even made it out of the state yet?”

  “I’ve been stopping at a lot of bars, and it would be irresponsible to drive afterward.”

  “That’s not really the kind of road trip I’d suggested,” I said. “I was thinking more like cruising along the open road with the windows down and music blasting. Since when do you get drunk?”

  “Since five days ago. My alcohol tolera
nce is pretty low. Is Helen in the room?”

  “Yes. You’re on speaker.”

  “Oh. Can you go somewhere private?”

  “No, I can’t go somewhere private! She’s right here! Why would you ask that out loud when I already said that you’re on speaker?”

  Fortunately, Helen liked Roger. She just rolled her eyes and continued breastfeeding Brianna. You don’t want to read about how her nipples were doing. I heard about it frequently.

  “Well, I was going to propose something to you, but she’s not going to like it, so I thought it was best that she didn’t hear it while I was saying it.”

  “Are you drunk right now?” I asked.

  “I’m not sober.”

  “Maybe you should go take a nap.”

  “I’ll just go ahead and say it, and if Helen gets mad, I’ll apologize for angering her. I met this guy at the bar I’m at. He’s planning an expedition to South America and he’d like both of us to join him.”

  “An expedition for what?”

  “A treasure hunt.”

  “He invited you to go on a treasure hunt in South America, and you said yes?”

  “He said it’s vast riches, greater than we can imagine.”

  “Was he drunk, too?”

  “Nah. I think we should go.”

  “Sounds good to me. Helen’s right here, so let me see if it’s okay with her if I leave her with the triplets while I go off on a South American treasure hunt. Helen, you’re cool with that, right?” I asked. “The hospital won’t mind if you have three babies with you while you work your shift, will they?”

  “Hey, Roger?” said Helen.

  “Yes?”

  “Go get some sleep. Maybe switch to bottled water for the rest of your vacation.”

  “The guy is serious,” Roger insisted. “Since when are you against vast riches?”

  “I’m all in favor of vast riches,” I said. “But I’m not jaunting off to South America to go on a treasure hunt with some guy you just met in a bar. Even if I didn’t have three babies at home I wouldn’t be doing that.”

  “With vast riches you could buy three robot nannies.”

  “I’m hanging up on you now, Roger.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Water,” Helen told him, right before I disconnected the call.

  I looked over at Helen. “He’s had a rough time lately.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m not thinking about going to South America.”

  “I know.”

  “Just wanted to make sure you understood that.”

  “I did.”

  “Good.”

  Roger called the next morning. “Sorry for calling when I was a little buzzed,” he said.

  “No problem,” I said.

  “I’m sober now.”

  “Glad to hear it. Did you finally make it to Georgia?”

  “No, I’m on my way over.”

  “To my house?”

  “Yeah. With my new friend.”

  In case I haven’t made it clear, this was really abnormal behavior for Roger. I was beginning to seriously worry about his mental health. “Don’t bring your creepy new friend over to my house.”

  “He’s not a thrill killer or anything. I thought Helen should be there to hear his pitch.”

  “We’re not going to listen to his pitch, and we’re not letting a stranger into our house.”

  “Meet us for lunch. It’s on him. Bring the kids.”

  “I’m not taking the triplets to a restaurant. Are you kidding? That would be pure madness.”

  “He says he’ll pay two month’s worth of Helen’s salary for you to join us on the expedition, plus a cut of the treasure.”

  I hesitated. Finances were tight, thanks to the plethora of children and me not working. “And he’s paying for lunch?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. Meet us at Chamber Burgers & Fries in an hour.”

  Chapter Three

  Helen, Theresa, and Kyle were each responsible for one of the babies as we sat around the large table and enjoyed our hamburgers. Roger’s new buddy was named Percival Longshore, and he looked like he was playing the role of a late 19th century explorer in a low budget movie. He had a handlebar mustache and a beard that curled on the end, and I imagined that he had a fairly extensive sword collection at home.

  “Thank you so much for meeting with me,” he said, in a British-adjacent accent that couldn’t possibly be real. “I’ll admit that I was taken aback to look across the bar and see Roger Tanglen there. I had to look twice because of the unruly beard, and I wasn’t positive it was him until he kindly verified his identity and let me buy him a drink. And I thought, where Roger Tanglen is, Andrew Mayhem can’t be far! But of course I was wrong and it turned out that you were quite far.”

  Rose began to cry, so Kyle took her out of the restaurant.

  “I see that you’re fond of children,” said Percival.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “I’m not asking you to leave them for long. The actual expedition will take one day at the most. You’ll be well compensated even if it ends in abject failure, but if it ends in success, which I guarantee it will...oh, you will be most wealthy indeed, Mr. Mayhem.”

  “Why us?” I asked.

  “I’m familiar with your prior adventures. I think you’d both be exquisite assets if you joined my team.”

  “Okay, see, that’s where you lose me. If you were familiar with our prior adventures, you’d know that Roger and I are the last people you’d want to join your team. We are the most disaster-prone guys you’ll ever meet. I can’t believe you’d even feel safe here at a family friendly restaurant with us.”

  Percival smiled. “Do you believe in fate?”

  “I believe in bad things happening to me a lot, yeah.”

  “I do not pretend to fully understand the myriad mysteries of the universe, but there I sat, having a drink in my favorite watering hole, thinking that I still needed two more warm bodies on my expedition, when Roger walked through the door. Was it fate? Was it coincidence? It doesn’t even matter. What I saw was an opportunity.”

  “An opportunity for what?” I asked. “A body count?”

  “I believe that you and Roger are cursed. Even if you don’t believe in curses, you have to admit that if curses do exist, you have one, right? Yes, you have a lovely wife, and yes, you have many delightful children, but you’ve also experienced far more than your share of misfortune.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “We’ve got a home, and Helen has a good job, and we’re not skipping meals, and—”

  “You once sat at a dinner table where everybody else had been decapitated. That’s the sort of thing I’m referring to.”

  “Okay, yes, I’ve spent more time around corpses than most private citizens.”

  “I would like to reverse the curse.”

  “Are we talking witchcraft, voodoo…?”

  Brianna started crying, so Theresa took her out of the restaurant, just as Kyle returned with Rose.

  Percival chuckled. “Nothing like that. Our expedition is well funded, well planned, and not dangerous. The majority of it will be in a well-populated area where families take vacations. Yes, there will be a trek or two in the heat, but considering what you’ve been through, a sweaty hike shouldn’t be a big deal. You will return home safe and rich. And then we can consider the curse...broken.”

  “That’s one possible end result,” I said. “On the other hand, it might also prove that there is a curse.” I looked over at Kyle. “We’re not cursed. Don’t share that with your friends. Curses don’t exist.” I looked back at Percival. “You think we’ll return home safe and rich. I think we’ll return home dead and dismembered. I know you’re trying to be a nice guy by breaking the quote unquote curse, but we’ll probably turn your expedition into an absolute catastrophe.”

  “Oh, I’m not making this offer to be nice. I should have stated that upfront. There
is pure self-interest involved. I have an extremely popular YouTube channel where I chronicle my adventures. Having you two along would boost my clicks even further and let me do a very special video about how I broke your curse. Whether you believe in curses or I believe in curses is irrelevant. You’ll get the clicks. And I’m willing to pay handsomely for those clicks.”

  “So what treasure exactly are we looking for?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell you that,” said Percival. “What’s to stop you from sending your own expedition to find it before me?”

  “Everything. Literally every single element of my life is stopping me from sending an expedition to South America right now.”

  Percival nodded. “That’s fair, I suppose. But, alas, it must remain shrouded in secrecy for now. The more important question is, how much wealth do you stand to acquire?”

  “How much wealth do I stand to acquire?” I asked.

  “You and Roger would each be entitled to a three percent share. The treasure is worth at least twenty million dollars.”

  “So that’s…”

  “Six hundred thousand dollars each,” said Percival, saving me from having to do the math. “At least.”

  “Five percent,” said Helen.

  Everybody turned to look at her.

  “I just looked up your YouTube channel on my phone and you’re legitimate. So five percent, plus twenty thousand dollars up-front, plus a guarantee of an extra fifty thousand dollars each if you come home empty handed.” This was quite a bit different from the “No way in hell are you going on this expedition” reaction I’d expected.

  “Goodness,” said Percival.

  “Take it or leave it.”

  Percival smiled. “Four percent. Nineteen thousand dollars up-front. A guarantee of ten thousand dollars if we come home empty handed.”

  “Done,” said Helen.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “Do you know how much sleep we could get if you brought home eight hundred thousand dollars?”

  “All right,” I told Percival. “I guess I’m in.”

  And that is how, one week and a yellow fever vaccination later, I found myself on a plane bound for Manaus, one of the largest cities in South America.