By: Bob “Humane Pain” Zox
Another foggy, cold night at the cemetery, the fog hugging close to the ground, with inky blackness above, but tonight…Tonight was Valentine’s Day night.
A dark green Cadillac pulled into the familiar, black gated driveway. He had taken her out to dinner, and now at ten o’clock, they had come to their favorite, secluded sanctuary. As the car lights were shutting off, the car doors opened. They got out, he wearing his black trench coat against the cold, she in her shining black leather jacket with her collar turned up against the moisture. This night, they held hands as they slowly walked the familiar path under the black iron and vine entwined archway entrance to the home of No Problems.
The fog was thick tonight, obscuring the mausoleum, but its roof could be seen above the low thick layer of gray. The bats were circling in their radar predation above the large marble and stone structure, but at ground level she could not see anything until they were within a few feet of it. As they walked closer to the crypts, tombstones came into view out of the mist, some with crosses; others had the Star of David.
He squeezed her hand, she looked at him, and he was pointing silently. She followed his direction: two large tombstones in distance midway between them and the mausoleum, their graves hidden by the mist, but the tops appearing above it. But hovering in front of the grave markers, there was a softly glowing green haze that became twin oblongs of light.
The twin, drifting lights elongated, and became humanoid. She was spellbound. He stared. An arm from each light reached out, and they held hands. The forms became a glowing green man and woman, in turn of the century dress, her dress large and ruffled, hair in locks that draped from her flowered hat, he in a tuxedo and top hat. They appeared to be the same age as the living couple, and just as in love, as revealed by their gazes towards each other.
The ghostly couple facing each other, he gently put his arm around her waist, the other holding her hand high. With her other hand, she held a fan against his shoulder, and they began to dance. They did not seem to notice the living.
As the misty fog drifted over the graves, the green glow brightened and dimmed, but the couple still danced, a slow waltz, now slowly spinning together as they started to rise above the fog.
The living man put his arm around his living female companion, and she cuddled against him, holding her jacket collar close against the mist, watching with large, deep lavender eyes. The ghostly couple, dead for over a century, were now above the mausoleum, circling each other, the bats flying through their green haze, spiraling higher, spinning, smiling, eyes locked in an eternal gaze. They rose high in the sky, perspective shrinking them until they were a bright green star that twinkled, and then went out.
The living couple walked up to the tombstones. Beloved husband and wife ‘till death do us part’. He smiled at her, and she smiled back at him. Death obviously failed.
