The Tale Of The Mud Caked Seeker

 

The winds howled as we made our way through the cemetery. I could no longer see my mother as we fought against the forces which held us back. I wanted to cry out as I felt a slap across my ankles. I heard my Auntie Icky seemingly far off, a muffled shout of, "Here. Over here!" I jumped as I felt something squeeze my shoulder. My mother's long, bony fingers dug into me as she steered me towards the voice. As we ran we were bombarded with tiny spits of ice which stung us mercilessly on our exposed arms and face. "Run, Maggie, run," I heard my mother yell in panicked gasps. As we rounded a corner we saw a body lying on the ground. We both recoiled as it began to move and wail through the intermittent bursts of thunder. Lightning crossed the sky along with cracks like a whip and still the body keened and waved back and forth before the gravestone. I could not move even if I demanded my body to obey me. I watched as my mother fought against an invisible barrier and advanced towards the body. As my mother got closer the wailing stopped. A moment of complete silence enfolded the electrified air, then as the rain began again in earnest the body pounced upon my mother and pulled her into her arms. I watched as my Auntie and mother became one as streaks of silver broke the indigo sky. For a moment terror filled my being. I could no longer see as rain and tears filled my eyes. My mother cried out, "Ivy, we have to leave. It's not safe here!" The only response was a slow moan of such torment I had to turn away. I felt a sharp blow against my back and nearly fell onto the jagged edge of the resting place of Wolfgang Muller. I began to laugh in short hiccups and realized how terrified I was. When I am faced with traumatic events I become giggly and start to shake uncontrollably. I turned to my right and noticed a figure running away. Then I again felt a hand touch me, this time I grabbed on and we ran towards the figure. Leaves began to dance around us like swirling dervishes as though trying to block our way. 

I thought back about how our day had begun, sitting on our porch enjoying a beautiful Autumn day. We passed around a plate of spritz cookies that melted in my mouth as my father and auntie laughed about the past. They had not seen each other in two years, ever since my beloved grandmother had died. My grandmother had been everything to me and I still missed her terribly. My ears perked up as Auntie Icky suggested a trip to the cemetery in Chicago to visit both her parents who were both there, but as in life, together but distant, as in plots far away from each other. I had never met my grandfather. He was long gone before I was born, but I once saw a photo of him sitting at a picnic table, looking far off into the distance. On the other end sat my grandmother, her arms crossed, unsmiling, looking in the other direction. It might have been a metaphor for their life together. Auntie Icky was especially close to her mother. She was the youngest of the four children and had lived with grandma while her husband sailed the seas as a naval officer. 

My father claimed to be too tired and refused to drive into the city. I was surprised when my mom offered to go along, even though my mother and grandmother clearly never liked each other. I thought it odd that she was willing to drive over an hour into the city but had rarely walked two minutes and cross a street to visit my grandmother when she was alive. But, nevertheless, I was always ready to go for a car trip. The three of us piled into the car and off we went, unaware of what lay ahead.

I shivered as a cold gust passed through me. My mother's hand felt like a block of ice as we continued to run off the path and into an area of deceivingly dormant trees that snatched at our clothing and clawed marks across my arm. The rain finally eased up only to be replaced with a layer of fog which slowly creeped its way towards us and hid obstacles in our way. My mother pulled her hand from mine and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Ivadell Elvira, stop running and answer me!" as she vanished into the growing fog. If I had been terrified before, hearing the fear in my mother's voice nearly sent me into a laughing fit. My mother turned towards me and whispered, "Shhhh... I hear something." Then we stood in silence as the sound of twigs snapping came nearer. A figure covered in mud and leaves entered into the circle of swaying trees. We looked in awe at the sight before us. "I fell in a puddle, but I think I found him. This way," pointed the bedraggled figure and once again took off. We followed in pursuit of the mud caked seeker with disheveled strawberry blonde hair leading the way. To what, I had no clue. I just wanted to be sitting on our back porch eating buttery delights. Then we heard her call out, "I think he's here!" As we stepped back on the path we nearly ran into her and watched as a look of bewilderment crossed Auntie's face. "He's here. He's very close." We all flinched as we heard a loud snap and a hard thud as a large branch struck the ground. The fallen branch looked to my already overactive imagination of a giant witch's gnarly fingers as they pointed at one old and deteriorating marker. "There. He is there," pointed Auntie. We all inched closer to the blackened fingers and read the fading engraved words. "Here lies Einer ----." We stood for a moment as though hypnotized by the moving fingers which scraped across the marker. Then we ran as if Satan's hellhounds were after us.

When we at last made it home, the fear washing away mile after mile, until we reached our beautiful, wonderful house and told our tale to our smirking father who didn't believe a word of it. He stood up as he shook his head and said, "It's been a beautiful, sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky." 

The three of us sat on the porch and watched the brilliant sunset as Auntie and Mom shared a bottle of wine. I was content with cookies and soft laughter softening the very strange day. A very strange day, indeed.

*True story. Image by Freepik