Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
Code:
[B][COLOR=rgb(143, 174, 112)]Character:
Time/Location:
Scene Status:
Tagging:[/COLOR][/B]
[HR=3][/HR]While most spirits might seek to depart that resting ground, equally upsetting could be the tales of certain spirits trying to get within.
One, it was said, was Dawn Chorus’ very first inhabitant, it’s mythical founder, Zachariah Eaton, who’s body was never found, and perhaps long separated and isolated from the rest of his kin who now lay buried within the cemetery, amongst the first and oldest graves located there.
One entered Gordon Lake Cemetery from it’s south end, nearest to the road and quiet parking lot, passing beneath a large stone cross erected amidst a bed of wildflowers. A sad sea-breeze carried eastward from Gordon Lake, no doubt passing over Summerland Islet, often washed over the graveyard in the bleak mornings. It was beneath such a biblical symbol that the body of the church grim was said to be located, that of an unnamed black dog, in an unmarked grave, who was to protect the graveyard from those who might desecrate or disturb the final resting places of the dead, whether such profaners be alive…or otherwise. Whether it was the dog or the wind that howled most nights, few could differentiate.
The fence enclosed an area equivalent to a modern football field, though not all the grounds were of yet occupied, nor were the lands about claimed or occupied by any homestead or structure. Here at the entrance was the Gordon Lake Funeral Home, the post of the cemetery caretakers located, along with their tools and places of rest and congregation while on shift. Bodies could be stored there prior to burial, along with a small chapel and lounge for grievers. A great iron gate separated the parking lot from the interior of the black fence, though during the days it often sat open for those bereft to come and go as they wish, while it was promptly locked at 9pm at night, and remaining so until the crack of dawn.
The oldest parts of the graveyard were located nearest to the entrance immediately past the funeral home, in no particular style of ordering or placement. They were compact, with many stone and rock headstones having fallen into ruin or decay, names and dates sometimes ineligible, and some completely lost to the forces of time and nature, having been buried but under a wooden cross, unable to afford a longer lasting stone icon to mark their place. They were overgrown in many areas, and not a few locations of burial sites lost to time and memory. Here, the cleaning and maintenance of those few markers were done by hand, most arduous and laborious, but safest towards the long-term upkeep of these ancient graves.
A few still stood boldly, raised high in marble and chiseled white stone by those families with wealth and influence. Tall structures, with crypts and catacombs beneath, bearing the proud names of lineages and families long since passed on. Some were still in use, their descendants still living within Dawn Chorus through the long centuries since it’s inception.
Later, as modernization swept the lands, and the manner and organization of which graveyards were kept and governed became better known, so too did the style of Gordon Lake Cemetery grow. As one moved further within, reaching the resting places of those who passed less and less in the distant past and more to towards the present, so too did the rows of crosses and headstones become orderly and spaced with mathematical precision. Automatic sprinklers were installed to water the grounds. There was a cobbled path that directed grievers respectfully through the rows of headstones or crosses, preventing them from perhaps accidentally stepping upon a forgotten resting place, as often might happen in the older graveyard portions.
And beyond was a long stretch of greenway towards the far side of the enclosure, space reserved yet unused for the graves yet to come. Some were already dug, in expectation of occupants soon to come, a half dozen or so, six feet deep, and very difficult to clamber out of if one should accidentally fall within. And woe to those who might find themselves trapped within, if a storm should pass over, and fill the empty grave with a blanket of icy, heavy water that forever might drag one down, down into the deep, to become one with the others buried and lost.
The staff was small, run under the purview of Woodrow Haywood, who worked the day shift as caretaker, from 6am to 6pm. His son, Andrew Haywood, managed the night shift, working from 6pm to 6am, though his primary task was the guarding and keeping out of hooligans who might choose the privacy and isolation of the graveyard for deviant reasons, such as the consumption of liquor, drugs, or sex. Another employee at the funeral home is Tupoc Emiliano Tlacaelel Solis, a custodian.
Last edited by a moderator: