PART 10

I looked outside and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.

Because the grave digger was down there, waiting for me. He was standing in the moonlight on the sidewalk across in the street, a cigarette in his mouth. He must have sensed my presence, because he looked up and made a gesture towards me. Then he slowly tapped the top of his wrist, as if to remind me of the elementary rules of punctuality.

This time, I didn’t hesitate. I jumped into my shoes and left the cosy comfort of my room behind me, running down the stairs as quietly as I could.

When I got outside, the place was deserted. On the pavement across the street, I found his cigarette: I hadn’t hallucinated. I waited a bit, then decided to walk towards the graveyard, on my own, like a big boy.

I went down the long, winding and badly lit street. It didn’t look good during the day, but when night came, it took on a delightfully worrisome quality, with its corners full of shadows and its broken pavement glistening in the moonlight.

A burning chill went up my spine, a chill of apprehension and excitement mixed together.

I continued my descent all the way down the street and found myself at the graveyard’s gate with my heart beating fast.

I hesitated for a moment. What was I going to find behind the wall? Maybe nothing. The guy could have simply played a good gag and escaped, spending the next day laughing at me. Or I could be dealing with an overgrown adolescent – as my mum would have put it – who would be waiting for me dressed as Dracula hoping to scare me, or with a crazy person who would jump on me and knock me out with a shovel, or even…

I shook my head to clear my mind. I took the time to breathe deeply two or three times and I pushed the rusty metal gate as it made a sinister screech.

The grave digger was waiting for me, casually leaning against a wooden shed – his tool shed no doubt - , a new cigarette stuck between his lips. He wasn’t dressed up, neither as Dracula nor as anything else that could have frightened the masses in any way, and didn’t give the impression that he would jump on me to crack my skull open either. He watched me walk towards him and simply said:

– I said eleven o’clock sharp, son.

I shrugged. I had answered his invitation, hadn’t I? He should have been happy to be leading me by the nose like this. And what did he have to show me that was so exciting, anyway? The dead who walk and talk, really? I was really itching to see that…

– In any event, you were right to come, he added. You won’t regret it. Now follow me.

He turned on his heels and disappeared in the graveyard’s darkness. I followed him without any other pleasantries. What did he have hidden over there, between the tombstones? If it was worth taking a look at, this bizarre fellow would perhaps be able to – against all odds – save this year’s Halloween from complete failure.

I couldn't have guessed, however, that what he was going to make me discover was going to turn my life upside down.

(Go to PART 11)