Morning came and Lily Harper awoke feeling terribly ill. Just a day before she had been at the old churchyard in Ashford, clearing away leaves at the grave of her husbands grandmother. While Stephen was rummaging through the burial register, Victoria spotted a flock of crows perched on a rusted fence. As if the birds were watching her, she turned toward a weathered stone memorial. In the blackandwhite picture set into the slab a frail old woman wore a knitted kerchief. Suddenly a stern male voice echoed in Lilys mind:
Why are you staring? Get moving!
Without understanding why, Victoria began to tidy the strangers grave. The oddities did not stop there. When Stephen finally found his grandmothers plot, the old monument seemed to have been replaced by a fresh marble one, and the photograph now showed a young woman with a bright smile instead of the solemn elder.
What on earth is happening? Stephen stammered. Who could have done this? There are no relatives left. Everyones gone.
I have no idea how this could happen, Lily murmured, her hands throbbing.
Victorias arms ached with a pain that seemed to gnaw at her bones. Most of all she wondered who had swapped the monument at Stephens beloved grannys grave.
Could it be a hallucination, or some sort of witchcraft? she asked Stephen.
See a doctor, suggested Stanley, the local GP, and Ill have no clue whats happened to that stone.
At the clinic Lilys ordeal turned into a fullblown saga. The surgeon prescribed joint injections, which she refused. Xrays showed nothing, and the nurse sent her home with a prescription for ointment and painkillers. The ache in her limbs was joined by fatigue and low blood pressure. It felt as if every healthy organ in her body had abandoned her. Days slipped by with doctors finding nothing, and Lily began to accept that death might be near. When her neighbour, Mrs. Vera Thompson, popped in for a pinch of salt, she didnt recognize Lily at all.
Love, whats happened to you? Vera asked, concern creasing her forehead. You look dreadful.
Lily recounted the story of a disembodied male voice ordering her to clean a foreign grave and the sudden transformation of the monument at Stephens grandmothers resting place.
A voice, you say? The stone and the lady in the picture changed? the old woman mused. Sounds like the keeper of the cemetery forced you to take on someone elses sickness. Perhaps he felt sorry, or perhaps he was paid off.
Explain, Lily sobbed.
Black magic, Vera whispered. You need to go to church.
The church offered Lily no relief. The unknown ailment tormented her for a year, forcing her to quit her job and shuffle around her flat with great effort. After Easter, on the day of remembrance, Stephen suggested she try to communicate with the departed.
Do you think you can?
Ill try, she answered.
Youre the keeper of the graveyard! Lily wailed, her voice raw. Take my gift! I dont want to die! I have children, a husband! Take these borrowed illnesses away!
She burst into tears, and it seemed every spirit in the cemetery watched the frail, sorrowful woman. In the photograph, Stephens eyes flickered with a hint of pity.
Take the money! a whisper rustled in Lilys ears. Go with God! The one who summoned you will feel the backlash.
Why are you weeping at a strangers grave? Stephens voice called out, urgent. Come on!
The monument at Stephens grandmas plot returned to its original form, the photograph once again showing the mournful elderly woman.
No way! Stephen shrieked in horror.
I want to live! Victoria cried again. Keeper, protect me!
The next morning Lily awoke completely recovered. Thoughts of yesterday swirled in her mind. She sensed which family member had wrought the mischief. Her husbands sister, who had disliked Lily from the moment they met, fell ill soon after and passed away. Lily found it hard to believe the strange chain of events, yet the dreamlike echo of the cemetery lingered, a reminder that some shadows linger long after the stone is set.
