Cemetery Grandma

Thick pregrent layers of clouds hid the sun. Dismal chilly rain fell on muddy slush. Bare tree limbs creaked in the wind.. Birds and squirrels hibernated somewhere warm and dry.

I stomped over the frozen earth, my feet sliding in the slush. My plaid hat and wool coat damp. Lost, I wandered around the cemetery searching for the family plot. Tombstones stood like jagged teeth. Cobblestones wet slimy tried to trip me. I walked past the same headstone three times. I was about to give up my search, return when the caretaker was on duty and help me.

I heard humming. I stopped and listened. Soft barely a whisper, I heard a familiar tune, I couldn't place.

I searched the graveyard. I saw no one, not a man or a woman or a child. Who hummed?

"Dia Dhuit." A chill danced up my back.

'Dia Dhuit?" I heard it again. Where was it coming from? Gaelic, who was speaking Gaelic?

"Hello."

Silence no answer. Hypothermia it must be. I was hearing things. I stumbled towards the cast iron gate. Two cast iron angels guarded the gate.

Out of the cornor of my eye, I saw a flash of light. It landed on a square grey tombstone. Green moss covered the stone. HERE LIES ANDREW AND CATHERINE O'RYAN RIP. A carved cross with a twisted ivy branch decorated the tombstone.

I stood over my grandparent's final resting place. Finally found it, I laid a bundle of hot house flowers on the grave, red roses, lily of the valley and green ferns. I bowed my head and prayed.

I headed towards the gate. I saw a green shape twisting and turning in the breeze. It floated like a cloud. It came closer. A green hand reached out and grabbed me. It held me in place like a vice grip. I screamed.

The hand was warm. The sun shone over a beautiful spring day. Birds sang. The scent of lilacs filled the air. Bees buzzed collecting pollen. I looked at a familiar face in the green fog.

"Dia Dhuit Katie, good to see you. "

"What the, Grandma! Am I dead?"

"No my precious baby, we're in limbo."

"What the?"

"You'll learn when you're dead. I don't have much time. Can you do something for me?"

"Grandma, your dead, I'm so confused. "

"Then listen, I need you to find my diary and read it. Can you do that?"

"I'll try."

"It's written in Gaelic. There is a copy in The Grove Bookstore downtown. The book is covered in brown leather with the name Leabharna na Cailli burned into the leather. "

"I know the store but I don't read Gaelic. "

"Please translate and read the book. I can't go to the next life without passing on my knowledge. "

"I'll try."

She kissed my hand. "Sian A Stor. "

In an instant she disappeared. I was drenched standing over the tombstone. The sun set. A quarter moon rose in the sky. My coat and hat covered in ice. My body numb, frostbite? Shivering I forced my feet to move. Pain radiated, my limbs protested. Was I freezing to death?

I stumbled over the frozen ground. Ice crunching. Wind whipped through tree branches. Hail fell on my head. The cast iron angels seemed miles away. I crept over the icy ground. My feet slipped but I did not fall. Tiny step by tiny step inched my way to the navy blue ford pinto. The car covered by a sheet of ice. My fingers frozen refused to grasp the car keys.

Oh crap! I saw a neon light, JIM'S PUB & GRILL. A short distance, just across the street, could I walk that far?"

I limped across the black shiny parking lot. Ice crunched. The sign blurred. My breath froze. I stepped over the curb onto the street. Only the street, a sidewalk, a door keep moving. DO NOT STOP. Finally the door opened on the first shove.

Heat, dim lights, the smell of roasting meat, tobacco and beer. A fireplace, a beautiful warm fire casting heat. I crept towards the fire, hands reaching for the flames. Pins and needle sensations in hands and feet. Noise voices, someone removed my hat. Ice slid off my hat and fell to the wooden floor boards.

"Be careful, " said a female voice. "I'm going to remove your coat. "

I nodded my head and let her take off my coat. She removed my frozen clothes till she reached a dry layer. Hands lowered me into a chair next to the fire.

"Do your fingers and toes hurt?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Good now wiggle them as much as you can. "

The flames danced, giving me heat. I wiggled my toes and fingers, damn it hurt.

"Miss," a deep male voice ordered, "sip this, it's a hot drink, it'll warm you up." Rough calloused hands held a steaming coffee cup in front of my face. He put a straw in my mouth.

I sipped the warm brew. Bitter coffee, whiskey and sweet honey warmed my insides.

The cup emptied. I looked into his brown eyes. He rubbed my ears. "Can you feel this?"

"Yes it hurts. "

"You are one lucky woman. You stumbled in here grey as a corpse. "

"Thank you."

"What the hell were you doing out on a night like this?"

"Cemetery visiting dead relatives. "

"Oh my!" Replied a female voice, "did you......see the green witch?"

"I saw my grandma. She was in a green fog. "

I heard glass shatter. Feet hurried towards the door. Click the door locked. I watched her sprinkle salt on the floor, the rickety tables and under all the windows.

She stood next to the fire. She hugged her brown cardigan tIght against her thin body. She trembled.

"Did she touch you? Did the........ day become sunny and warm?"

How did she know? "Yes it was a beautiful spring day. My grandma held my hand. "

She crossed herself and took a deep breath. "Did she ask you to read the Leabharna na Cailli?"

"She asked me to read her diary. "

"Oh no!"

"Quiet!" Ordered the man. He stood staring out the window. He pointed his long skinny arm towards the cemetery. He motioned us to join him.

The bartender and I crept towards the window. Floorboards creaked. Outside in the dark gloom, behind the cast iron gate, floated a green fog. It turned into my grandmother. "Remember your promise!" She reached towards us.

I silently watched her reach towards the pub. "Grandma!" I yelled, "do you have a message for your daughter Gale?"

"Yes, tell her I love her. Have her help you translate my diary."

I screamed. "Your a fake. Your not my grandmother. My grandmother never had a daughter."

The green fog grew huge. It screamed and beat against the cast iron fence. The fence groaned and swayed but it held. The fog disappeared.

The bartender cried. The man held her.

He looked at me with sad eyes. "The green witch can't escape, a cast iron fence without her book. I hope she never finds it."