PART 7

The next morning (Saturday the first of November, All Saints Day) went by according to my predictions. I was dragged from graveyard to graveyard with only the filling up of an astronomical amount of watering cans and Aunt Maud’s incessant blabbering to distract me. Look over there, you’ll never guess whose grave that is, my little Charlipoo, she would start before passionately telling me about perfect strangers who had been dead for ages. She looked like she was in Disneyland, she was having so much fun.

As for me, I was far from sharing her enthusiasm. I had done everything short of throwing a tantrum to stay in the car, but to no avail. I had even tried to compromise, suggesting I finish the visits dressed in a hood and holding a burning torch, in order to liven things up, but my dear mother had promised me a slap if I kept spewing such nonsense.

(I would like to make it clear before we go any further that I am not one to go looking for derision, even though I’m still only thirteen. I’m familiar with paying my respects: I went to a friend’s mother’s funeral last year, shortly after school started, and my throat feels tight when I think about it, even now. It’s just that in this particular situation, I felt a strong sense of injustice. I hope you understand.)

We finished this joyous expedition – back to square one – by visiting the village’s graveyard. At around 1 pm, my mum tied up a tired arrangement of plastic chrysanthemums and ordered me to sweep the slab. She had a minute of silence for the dearly departed (1876-1934) and declared that it was enough, and it was time to go home.

I sighed in relief, even though the idea of finishing the afternoon surrounded by Aunt Maud’s awful décor was nothing to be celebrated.

I ran towards the exit, dropping the broom next to the water tap as I went, and it is at that exact moment that my destiny changed.

– Psst.

I pulled the heavy metal gate to slip outside. The sky was dark, as if it was going to rain. Wouldn’t that be just perfect! After having spent all morning filling up those cursed watering cans…

– Psst.

This time, there was no doubt. Someone was trying to get my attention. I turned around and saw an older fellow staring at me.

(Go to PART 8 )