Laura awoke that morning feeling feverish. Just a day before she had been at the old churchyard in Yorkshire, cleaning the grave of her husbands grandmother at her husbands request. While Stan was searching for the exact plot, Vera saw a flock of crows perched on a ruststained fence. As if sensing a stare, the woman turned toward a weathered stone monument. In the blackandwhite photograph tucked into the corner was an elderly lady wrapped in a shawl.
A stern male voice cut through the silence.
What are you looking at? Get on with it!
Without understanding why, Vera began tidying the strangers grave. The oddities didnt stop there. When Stan finally located his grandmothers burial spot, the old stone had been replaced by a sleek marble slab, and the photograph now showed a young woman smiling gently instead of the solemn grandmother.
I havent a clue whats happened! Stan blurted. Who could have done this? There are no relatives left. Everyones gone.
I cant see how something like this could occur, Laura muttered, her hands throbbing.
Veras arms ached unbearably, and she worried most about who had swapped the monument for Stans beloved grandmother.
Could it be a hallucination or some sort of witchcraft? she asked Stan.
See a doctor, Stan advised. Im clueless about the monument myself.
At the local hospital Lauras troubles turned into a fullblown ordeal. The surgeon suggested joint injections, which she refused. Xrays showed nothing, and she was sent home with a prescription for ointments and painkillers. Her hands grew weaker, her blood pressure slumped, and she felt as if every organ in her body were failing. Days passed with no answers; the medical staff found nothing, and the young woman began to think death was inevitable. When her neighbour, Mrs. Bennett, stopped by for a pinch of salt, she barely recognised Laura.
Darling, whats happened to you? Mrs. Bennett asked, concern in her eyes. You look dreadful.
Laura recounted the disembodied male voice that ordered her to clean a strangers grave and the sudden transformation of the monument in Stans family plot.
A voice, you say? The monument and the portrait changed? the old lady murmured thoughtfully. That sounds like the keeper of the cemetery taking on someone elses illness. He might have taken pity, or perhaps he demanded a price.
What does that mean? Laura sobbed.
Black magic! the neighbour exclaimed. You need to go to church.
The church offered no relief. Laura endured the unknown ailment for a whole year, eventually leaving her job. Moving around her flat became a struggle. After Easter, on Remembrance Day, Stan suggested she pay a visit to the departed relatives.
Can you manage it? he asked.
Ill try, she replied.
Youre the keeper of the cemetery! Laura wailed, her voice cracking. Take back my gift! I dont want to die! I have children, a husband! Return the illnesses you stole!
She broke down in tears, feeling every ghost watching the frail woman. In the photo, Stans eyes flickered with sympathy.
Take the money! a whisper rustled in Lauras ears. Go with God! The one who summoned you will feel the backlash.
Why are you weeping at someone elses grave? Stans excited voice called out. Lets go!
The monument at Stans grandmothers grave reverted to its original form, the photograph once again showing the solemn old lady.
Good grief! Stan shouted in horror.
I want to live! Vera cried again. Keeper, protect me!
The next morning Laura awoke completely healthy. Thoughts of the previous day whirled in her mind. She guessed which relative had caused the mischief: her husbands sister, who had never liked her from their first meeting, soon fell ill and died. Though she struggled to believe the events, the ordeal left her with a clear understanding.
When the strange forces of the world try to claim us, we must confront them with courage, honesty, and kindness. Only by facing our own fears can we keep the darkness at bay and learn that true strength lies in accepting responsibility for our own life.
