Game of Stones

All of my writing is fiction, and the stories and characters are products of my imagination. They were created for my fun and, hopefully, your enjoyment. Some of the events in the stories are not particularly condoned nor encouraged by the author but are there to create and enhance the story of the imaginary characters and their lives. Comments are always encouraged and carefully reviewed. All characters within the story that need to be are 18 years of age or older. I hope you enjoy! And take a second to vote and comment.

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High school had been a boring time for me since I spent most of my time concentrating on my studies. If I was going to go to college, it would require scholarships and maybe working to get through, as my parents certainly didn't have the money to pay the horrendous tuitions that were required now. My grandfather talked of going to Ohio State in the fifties and sixties, and his tuition was ninety dollars per quarter or two hundred and seventy dollars a year. He'd work during the summer and earn enough to pay for tuition and books and have spending money left over. Times had changed now, for sure. Current tuition is approximately twelve thousand dollars per year, or forty-four times what it had been.

My grades had been excellent, and the scholarships had come, but I still worked off and on to supplement the costs, sneaking by without my parents having to sacrifice to help me along. I was now working on my master's in mechanical engineering, postponing most of what would have been the normal part of my life until that was complete.

I'd dated a couple of girls in high school, but the more we became involved, the more time it required, and that didn't mesh well with the time required for my studies. So, I decided to dismiss that part of my life for the present and push it into the future when the studies were complete, I had a good job, and there was more time available. Even in college, I'd had girls flirt with me, I think hoping I'd take an interest in them, but to no avail. I was committed and resolute. Nothing would deter me.

I had finally applied for and been accepted for the ideal job for a struggling college student. It was a night security guard at a huge cemetery that had experienced trouble with vandals and thieves and needed someone to monitor the cameras they'd installed and report any problems. It made getting enough sleep a problem, but it left much time for studies. And I usually managed to grab a couple of naps during the night, using the alarm on my phone to keep them from extending more than an hour or so. It was working well.

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"You're early, Tony. What's up?"

"I'm not always late." That was technically true, always being the keyword.

"Yes, you are. So what happened tonight?"

I shrugged. "I was hungry, and it woke me up, I guess. I've got to remember to eat before I go to sleep."

"Yeah, heaven forbid that I get to go home on time."

"I agreed to lock all the gates so you could sit here on your ass and watch TV."

"Lots of TVs to watch in here," Lou said with a laugh.

It was true. Since Blessed Rest Cemetery began having trouble with stolen headstones (smaller ones) and general vandalism (larger ones), a large group of security cameras had been installed in key areas, and monitors in the small office that had been turned into the security center, something that hadn't been necessary in the past. The office was in a corner of the original cemetery building and smelled of age, neglect, and disrepair despite the wonderful electronics that now filled every corner of the room

During the day, there was lots of activity on the grounds that gave security plenty to watch. At night, when I was on duty, there was usually nothing to see on the monitors, although, every couple of weeks, someone would be spotted, and the golf cart with the very bright spotlight would spring into action, usually causing the intruder to flee.

Being there for the boring night was an advantage right now because I had plenty of time to study since I was working on my master's degree in mechanical engineering. There were lots of sleepy classroom sessions, but so far, I was doing okay. Plus, without the money from the job, there'd be no master's degree.

I used the golf cart to visit each of the four gates, closing and locking them before I headed back to the office. The place was huge, so it took nearly thirty minutes just to visit the four gates and lock them.

I was amazed at the number of large trees and thick shrubbery that was present since the only cemetery I visited where a grandparent was interned was bare with only an occasional tree, I'm sure to facilitate mowing.

Once back in the office, I checked all the monitors in the dwindling twilight and didn't see anything unusual, so I entered that into the computer. Later, when it was completely dark and the few street lights were on, the picture would be dim and difficult to decipher. Plus, now that the thieves and vandals knew there were security cameras, they were much less likely to appear.

I settled in with my textbook, making careful notes for my design project. My professor was a consultant for multiple helicopter companies, and I was designing a rotor lift test stand. It was guaranteed to get me an A in the course, which would be helpful for my GPA.

About an hour later, I checked the monitors again and thought I saw some movement on one of the mid-cemetery cameras. I watched for a couple of minutes and was sure I saw something...or someone prowling amidst the stones. They appeared to be dressed in all black, which naturally drew my attention. Thieves and vandals didn't like to be seen.

The golf cart sprang into action, but I didn't use the spotlight. The vague figure I'd seen looked small, and my first impression was that it was a girl. I discarded that as totally illogical as what small girl would be trying to steal a gravestone or even vandalize one.

I stopped the cart short of where I'd seen the movement and looked around, hoping to spot more movement. I was a weaponless security guard unless you considered the big flashlight I carried a weapon. I moved as silently as possible, hoping against hope that there'd be nothing there.

"Who's there," I called, trying to sound bold and decisive when I really wasn't.

"Oh!" A high-pitched squeal from behind a large stone.

"Come out where I can see you." I switched on my flashlight/weapon.

"I'm not doing anything," she said, stepping out to where I could see her.

The bright light revealed a small young woman dressed in black and, admittedly, looking very harmless. I adjusted the beam so that it cast a soft light on the scene. Bareheaded, she had short and very black hair, pale blue eyes, and, amazingly, a band of freckles across her face just below her eyes.

"You're not supposed to be here, you know. The cemetery is closed for the night."

"I could tell that from the locked gates. But that's when I like to be here when there's no one to bother me."

So, I guess I was bothering her, but that was my job.

"So, did you stay here from earlier, before the gates were locked?"

"Oh, no. I never come during the daylight."

An obvious question came to mind. "So, how did you get in?"

She just smiled, and it was clear she wasn't going to answer the question.

"You need to leave," I said as firmly as I could. But even as I said that, her look and her soft voice caused me to want to learn more.

"Why? I'm not hurting anything."

"Well, it's just the rules. No one is allowed in here after the gates are locked."

"And you're here to enforce the rules, right?"

"Exactly." The smile on her face told me she wasn't afraid of me.

"Isn't it boring being here all by yourself with nothing to do but probably watch some security monitors that are showing you that nothing is happening?"

"It showed me something tonight. You."

She chuckled and smiled, both having a nearly unexplainable allure, helped by the fact that the face I was seeing was very, well, cute.

"I wish it hadn't because it's interrupted both of our evenings."

"That's what it's meant to do."

"Shine the light so I can see your face better," she said somewhat firmly.

I did it before realizing that she was giving me an order, not what was supposed to happen.

"The sound of your voice told me you weren't an old man, and your face tells me even more. If I had to guess, I'd say that you're a college student working here to help pay tuition, damn those student loans, right? And the boring night gives you time to study."

I squinted at her, moving the light so she couldn't see my face any longer.

"That's all true, but you still need to leave."

She frowned. "I just got here and haven't done anything yet."

"Done anything?" I questioned.

"Not anything that you're thinking of, silly." A startled look. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you silly. You've been very kind and understanding."

"I try," I said, "but you're still going to have to leave."

"Isn't there anything I can do to talk you out of that?"

I wished she hadn't put it that way because it caused my mind to wander. But she seemed so intense when she said it, and her face had a pleading look that made me curious.

"Why is it you want to stay so badly?"

The smile that spread slowly across her face was captivating, particularly when she wrinkled her nose and lowered her eyes.

"This...is...such...a...fascinating...place," she said very slowly, looking around as she did. "Don't you think so?"

There was no doubt that she sincerely wanted to know my thoughts. Of course, it was where I worked, a cemetery, and I had never thought much about that.

"Fascinating, how?" I asked, trying to deflect her question.

"All those tall and beautiful monuments right down to the small plates that lay flat on the ground. It's kind of a commentary on our world, you know?"

I'd noticed some of the larger monuments on my gate-locking rounds but hadn't really paid much attention to them other than thinking they'd certainly cost a lot of money. But I sensed there was more to it with this girl.

I shrugged. "Lots of differences, I guess." A weak reply, but I had no better answer.

"Mr. Security Guard, what's your name?"

I wasn't sure if my operating instructions allowed giving out my name, but for the sake of goodwill, I decided to do it.

"I'm Tony," I replied. She wouldn't need my surname.

Another wide smile. "Hello, Tony. I'm Lisa." She extended her hand.

I was supposed to be escorting her out of the locked-up cemetery, but instead, I found myself shaking hands with her. And when her small hand touched mine, it was like an electric shock tore through my body. I certainly wasn't used to that.

"Yeah, nice to meet you, Lisa." It was disappointing when she released my hand.

Before I could say anything else, she hit me with a zinger.

"Do you think all of these people are dead?"

Um, hello. "They better be."

"How many people are buried in here, do you know?" She was looking all around again.

"No idea, um, Lisa. I mean, there's no reason that I should know that."

"Do you suppose anyone does?"

"I hope they do."

"So you think they're all dead? Even this one?" she asked, pointing to a monument that stood nearly as high as her head.

I looked at the stone, something that I didn't do often despite being around them five days a week, albeit in the dark most of the time. The words were chiseled deeply into the stone, and I knew that weathering and obliterating the name wouldn't be a problem here.

EDWARD T. SLOAN III

1910 - 2001

"It says he died in 2001. So, I'd say he's dead." I wondered where she was headed with this, having already forgotten about escorting her out one of the gates.

"It does say that, but maybe he's not dead. He can't be living in you or me because I'm guessing you were born before 2001, and I know that I was. But he could be someone who was born in 2001."

"So you believe in reincarnation?" That seemed to be where she was headed.

"I'm not sure. It just seems a waste for a wonderful soul--I'm not saying that Edward T. Sloan was a wonderful soul--but there are lots of them around, and it seems a waste for them to just disappear when someone dies. They need to be born again and make that new person wonderful, don't you think?"

I was just a struggling engineering student, weak in metaphysics and religion, and wasn't sure I could give a coherent answer to her question, although her words seemed to make sense.

"What about heaven?" I asked, hoping to sound sure of myself.

"What about it?"

Now I was stuck and needed a good answer.

"I was raised in Sunday school, and we learned that souls go to heaven when you die."

"Or hell," she answered, her body shivering as she said it.

"There, too," I confirmed. "But there's nothing there about coming back in another person."

"There's nothing that says it couldn't happen, right? I mean, if God wanted it to happen, it could."

"Lisa, I think you're trying to make me forget about getting you out of here."

"I hope so because I want to stay."

No subterfuge in that. But my curiosity was piqued now, wondering why she wanted to stay here so badly. I was convinced she wasn't a thief or a vandal, so what was it? Best to just ask, I decided.

"Why do you want to stay here so badly? It's dark, and I'd think a little scary for a young girl like yourself to be alone here."

"Young girl? I bet I'm no younger than you are, Tony."

Lisa was obviously an expert in changing the subject in order to divert me further and further from my purpose here to escort her out of one of the gates.

"I'm right, aren't I," she said when I didn't answer.

"I have no idea how old you are."

"I'm twenty-five," she said rather proudly, probably knowing she was right about being older than

I was.

"I'm twenty-three, so you win that one."

She laughed, a warm sound in the cool night air. It was summer, but still cooled off when the sun disappeared.

"Do you ever wonder about these people?" she asked, a quizzical expression crossing her face. "And you can switch your flashlight off if you'd like. There's a little light from those street lamps you have. Did they have funerals at night in the past?"

"Don't forget, you're older than I am, so you should know more about that."

"Two years older," she said with another of those warm laughs. "But I'm serious. Haven't you ever wondered about all these people? Not about Edward T. Sloan, but just in general." She shook her head. "That's not right either."

Lisa seemed at a loss for words for a moment. I'd switched off the flashlight so that I could barely see her face, but the memory of those blue eyes and the freckles was still fresh in my mind.

"Why don't you slow down, maybe sit on top of that shorter stone, and explain to me again exactly what you're talking about."

My position responsibility was now conflicting with my mind, and I found myself more than content to allow Lisa to stay while I talked with her. Neither study nor sleep seemed more important at the moment.

I could barely make out the sly smile on her face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I'd come out here to evict her from somewhere she didn't belong, and now I was trying to soothe her and discover exactly what she was doing here. Had she done that purposefully, or had it just happened due to her personality and passion for whatever it was she was doing? I hoped I'd find out soon.

"I'm weird," she said matter-of-factly. "Maybe crazy, too," she added. "Do I frighten you?"

"Not yet. But if I see fangs or red eyes, you might."

"I'm not that kind of weird," she said with a giggle. "But I do put some people off very quickly, even when I don't mean to."

"You were talking about wondering about these people. What kind of wondering?"

Now looking more settled, she began. "I just wonder what they were like. I know when they lived and a little about what life was then, so I can create a little story about them. If they have huge memorial stones, I know they were probably rich. And sometimes, I look at one of those plates that lie flat on the ground and wonder if that person was a modest millionaire. See, I'm weird."

"So you create stories about them?"

"Yeah. See, weird and crazy."

I couldn't find a good argument to use against "weird and crazy," so I decided to just go along and see where she was headed.

"I don't know about that. What do you do with your stories?"

She leaned toward me, I think captivated by my interest in what she was saying.

"I sit here and concentrate on the stones and the names, and I decide who they are and what they did in their life. I try to fill in the little details of what they looked like, how they spoke, how they dressed, and who their friends might have been. I keep my hand on the stone, hoping it can send me information about them to help with the story." She stopped and gazed off into the distance.

The talk of being weird was beginning to make more sense, but I wasn't sure about the crazy yet. Perhaps they went together. I certainly wasn't an expert on that subject.

"What do you do with the stories once you've taken the time to create them?"

"I have a notebook where I write them down, or at least make fairly complete notes. I've, um," she glanced at me, "completed a couple of stories. Someday I'll have a complete book."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Do you need to look after your video screens?" she asked, a concerned look on her face.

I'd totally forgotten I was working or had been working. She was right, of course.

"Yeah, I better get back." I didn't move, and I'm sure I knew what she was thinking.

"Please don't worry about me. I'm not going to damage anything, and you can trust me on that. I may be weird, but I'm not dangerous."

I knew that was true, but. "How will you get out?"

"The same way I got in." Not the first cryptic answer I'd gotten from her.

"Good enough, I guess."

"I don't want to get you in any trouble. You've been far too nice to let that happen."

"You won't. Just don't fall and break a leg or something."

That warm laugh one more time. "I'll be very careful, and I'll be here tomorrow if you want to talk some more."

Before I knew it, I was saying, "I may just do that, Lisa," because I knew I would.

"I hope so, Tony because I've enjoyed this graveyard conversation."

"Don't say it that way. It sounds creepy," I said, chuckling.

"Because I'm weird," she added, giving me a little wave as I headed for the golf cart.

Back in the office, I checked the monitors and saw nothing unusual...and no Lisa. I wondered if she was still there, wandering around among the monuments, both large and small, and making up stories as she did. She said she was weird and maybe crazy. I discarded the crazy part, but she was at least different.

The picture of her face, though, was fixed in my mind...the dark hair, the pale blue eyes, and particularly the freckles, fascinating as they were, but seemingly out of place on that face.

I wondered if I'd really see her again tomorrow night.

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Lou's eyes were wide when I walked through the office door.

"Two days in a row?" He looked amazed.

"Well, maybe I'm turning over a new leaf. Besides, what does it matter if I'm a few minutes late? You're just sitting here, bored to death, and you don't leave right away, anyway." Lou always liked to rag me about my being late.

Lou laughed. "It's the principle of it. But you have a two-day streak going here, so see if you can keep it alive."

Unless something happened with Lisa, the streak should just keep growing. Maybe I was as weird as she was, but I was anxious to get to work and see if she'd be here again tonight.