Ronald's Graveyard Shift

by Eduardo Espinoza-Gonzalez

“He’s getting away.”

Ronald’s footsteps rumbled to his heartbeat’s rhythm. His backpack bounced with the energy of a sugar-high kid. His black untied laces soared with every frantic step. Ronald ran with his heart dictating where to pull him. In the distance, the shivering echo of the bell rang throughout the town. 

“Excuse me!” Ronald exclaimed, bumping into a suited stranger as he continued to run. 

The man stopped in his tracks watching as Ronald turned the corner of the street. The voices that pursued him faded into the distance. Ronald had always been good at running away, seeing as he constantly got into trouble. His grandpa had always told him it was because he had too big of a mouth whatever that meant. Without realizing it he found himself in his hometown’s graveyard. At the center only he remained amongst the dead. Deserted by the vibrance of the living, overgrown roots sawing through cracks within the headstones, rust, and erosion had crumbled the edges of the old forsaken graves. Ronald felt at peace in the graveyard, often unconsciously making his way in this direction when he needed a place to hide and escape his daily troubles.

 He flopped on the floor catching his breath. Leaning on his grandfather’s rough grave, the cleanest of the lot thanks to Ronald's weekly cleaning visits. Shivering fog surrounded his heels as the sun faded beyond the mountain range.

“I miss you,” he whispered into the night hiding from the world’s agonizing view in the shadow of his grandfather’s grave. Silence filled the minutes as the afternoon struggled along. 

Without notice, the clasping of shoes against the floor hurdled throughout the graveyard. Ronald quickly crouched behind the gravestone. Shit, they found me, he thought. The footsteps approached at a steady pace. With every second step quieter than the rest. Ronald felt the air around the graveyard shift to a drop. Quickly as the footsteps came, they faded away. Ronald peaked his head over the left side of the gravestone. No one. Was I imagining it? All that running got me hearing things, he thought. He returned to his slouched position behind the gravestone. 

“Hey, you,” A deep voice echoed from Ronald’s right. 

Ronald frantically jumped from his seated position. Just right of the headstone was a suited man crouched near where he had been. Ronald felt a familiarity with the man, yet it was overshadowed by the marathon his heart had embarked on. 

“What the fuck man!” Ronald shouted with one hand grasped on his blue shirt and the other holding his body on his black joggers. Ronald felt his lungs begging for air as he stood leaning forward catching his breath.

“You can….” The Man stood up. He was tall in a navy suit with a polka-dotted green tie. His hair was black with the side beginning to gray. His face was pale enough to reflect the moonlight like car headlights. 

“You can see me,” he remarked. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I, you scared the shit out of me,” Ronald Responded. 

“I’m just surprised since most people just ignore me, it’s like they can’t see me, even my wife acts like she can’t see me and…” The Man was interrupted by Ronald slowly backing away. 

“Where are you going?” The Man confusingly watched Ronald continue to backpedal towards the exit. 

“That’s one hell of a bummer, but that’s not my problem, I’d say see you around, but I don’t think I want to” Ronald swung his hand in a goodbye motion as he turned his back. 

Ronald watched as the hands-on his wristwatch struck 3:00 am. That can’t be right it was just 8:00 pm, he thought. He turned the nozzle to set the time again, but the watch was unresponsive. He continued to fidget with it walking towards the exit.  

“Just listen to me.”

Ronald froze in his tracks. Raising his gaze before him stood The Man again. Blocking the entrance with his wide shoulders. 

“How did you even…?” Ronald questioned turning his head to look at where he had left him.

“That’s not important, please I need you to do me a favor” he pleaded.

“No, I hate getting involved with other people’s problems, it doesn’t end well, always leads to more problems, and causes people harm” Ronald shook his palms from side to side.

Ronald shuffled through The Man’s side exiting the graveyard. The cold air continued to blow throughout the town. Ronald’s footsteps were shadowed by the set of someone else’s. Matching the speed that he had with every step. 

“If you keep following me, I’m going to call the cops!” Ronald shouted without turning around. Full-heartedly expecting the footsteps to stop. Frustratingly they continued to echo in his shadow. The moonlight reflected on the puddles covering the concrete floor.

“Please just hear me out…”

“Fine! Will you stop following me if I listen to you?” Ronald snapped.

The man shook his head frantically in a straight, eager motion. They made their way towards a nearby bench and Ronald waited for the explanation.

“I need your help getting a message to my… My wife” He began. His hands crumpled together in his lap. He sat upright and spoke with a quiver in his voice when he mentioned her. 

“Why me, why don’t you tell her yourself?” Ronald asked.

“You see, one day I left her on her own and haven’t returned. I know it sounds horrible, but I didn’t have a choice, I got roped up in some pretty bad stuff,” The Man continued. 

“She doesn’t want to speak to me, ignoring me when I try and talk to her, she won’t even answer the door,” The Man stared off into the distance. 

Ronald felt the cold air fall with the weight of regrets. His shoulders tensed as he watched The Man look on into the distance lost in a memory.

“Okay, I’ll help you out. My grandpa was a sucker for romance junk, a firm believer in helping others no matter the cost, he’d be rolling in his grave if I didn’t help you. Where do we start?” Ronald said, standing from the damp bench.

“Do you have a pen?” The Man asked excitedly.

-Later that night-

Ronald pointed at the brown door of the small suburban house. Its exterior decorated by plants and vines dangling from the windows. The Man watched from the distance motioning with a thumbs up that it was the correct door. Ronald softly knocked in the hope nobody would pick up. Rustling could be heard within the house following Ronald's third knock. His heart sank watching the doorknob slowly turn.

He was greeted by a woman in a green polka-dotted blouse. Her glasses were as round as her bright blue eyes. Her blond curly hair covered the left side of her face.

“How can I help you?” She spoke softly.

“I found this letter and I think it’s addressed to you,” Ronald handed her the letter he and The Man had prepared with the message he had to give. Ronald watched as the lady took the letter. Color dripped from her face as she began to read.

“Where... di... did you get this,” she said frantically stumbling over her words.

“It was in the post office, they accidentally put it in my parent’s P.O. box,” a lie he had prepared.

“This letter is from my husband,” she said, holding the letter close to her chest.

“He passed a while back and I miss him every day, thank you so much for bringing it,” she concluded. 

Those words sent shivers down Ronald's rib cage. Passed! he thought to himself. He turned to look where The Man had been standing to find an empty flickering lamp post. Not a single living soul in sight. His wristwatch rang now displaying the right time. 11:11 pm.