Celtic mythology says that leaving a graveyard a different way that you entered means spirits will exit with you. A fugitive sprints through a graveyard.
Alice has a good head on her shoulders. At least that’s what momma and grandma and cousin Chase said. She’s got a good head on her shoulders. She was a country girl at heart. That was a good thing in her youth, growing up on the family farm. Not so much living in the city. She never liked the city, even when we got our own apartment.
I, on the other hand, had never smelled clean air in my life. I grew up with momma and grandma and cousin Chase in our flat by the river and I had never wanted anything different. Not until Alice MacCain walked into my life.
They told me not to marry her, but i couldn’t resist it. Her red hair flying everywhere, her green eyes, a color we never saw so deep in the city. Her strange tattoos twisting up her arms and down her back.
She told me stories of ancient times. Of celtic gods and places lost to the winds of history.
We moved in together three months before the wedding was set to be. A small flat on the east side of the city, still close to momma and cousin Chase, but far enough away that we had our own space. I still went to visit grandma on weekends, always with fresh flowers.
Alice never judged me. I guess that’s one of the things I loved most about her. All the other people I had dated had always left the moment they found out about grandma. Not Alice though. She helped me clean up the grave, light the candles. Clear the moss from the lettering.
Grandma Jones
1770- 1652
Loving grandmother
Our flat was small. A bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. It was everything I had ever wanted.
I was sitting on the couch when it happened.
A bright white flash. Sirens flashing in the night. People shouting and screaming and crying. I ran outside and was met with a cloud of smoke sky-high.
The news reports came in the next day. Hundreds dead.
They didn’t know who did it. They said it must have been someone on the inside. Someone who had access to the city, but someone not from around here. Me and Alice sat on the couch together, hands intertwined as they rattled off statistics and lists.
Alice was gone the next morning.
I went to stay with momma and cousin Chase. They looked at me with sad eyes, I told you so’s on the edges of their tongues.
Alice has a good head on her shoulders. That’s what they said. But it doesn’t necessarily mean that a good head is to be trusted. She’s smart. They said cereal killers were smart too.
Her name was everywhere. On the news. On wanted posters. All over the internet.
She has a good head on her shoulders. Yeah. sure.
Five weeks later they found her body in a ditch outside of town. She didn’t seem to have been killed by anything in particular. No marks on her body, no heart attack, no nothing. Nothing, except her tattoos, red instead of black. No one else knew her well enough to know the difference. I did.
I went to see her body. Cousin Chase knew some higher ups, so they were able to get me in. I stood on the other side of a window, staring at the body on the metal table, all but her face covered by a sheet.
They ruled it out as a suicide. Case closed. Lunatic destroys the congress building and the bank before comiting suicide, leaving her bride to be so alone in such a dull world. Alice was the only thing that brought it color.
And Alice was gone.
Alice was among the ones confirmed dead. I couldn’t stop crying as I buried her body alone, next to grandmother. She had no family besides me. No parents, no siblings. No one to remember her name after I was gone.
There was another bombing the next night. The senate building this time. I watched the aftermath from the window.
They came for me the next day. I was already gone, driving away in cousin Chase’s old pickup, momma’s old shotgun in the seat beside me. Grandma has taught us all to shoot.
That’s where i went of course. to the cemetery. I didn’t know were else to go. No friends, no family other than momma, grandma and cousin Chase. And Alice.
I sat on her grave, talking to grandma. Her advice was always handy in times like these.