AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Security.
"You know what time it is?" the guy asks. He's big and mustached.
"No idea," I answer.
"Eleven past midnight. Cemetery's closed, mate."
I almost walk away, but tonight I can't. I open my mouth and say, "I'm wondering, sir...I'm looking for a grave."
He looks at me, deciding. Should he help me or not? He goes for yes.
"What name?"
"Johnson."
He shakes his head and laughs, a hint of criticism. "Do you have any idea how many Johnsons there are in this joint?"
"No."
"A lot." He sniffs at his mustache, as if to erase an itch. It's red. He's a redhead.
"Well, can we give it a go anyway?"
"What sort of dog is that?"
"Rotty-shepherd cross."
"He stinks a real bloody treat, mate. Don't you wash him?"
"Of course I do."
"Whoa." He turns away, screwing up his face. "That's diabolical."
"The grave?" I ask.
His memory is jogged. "Oh yeah. Well, we can give it a shot. Any idea when the poor old sap died?"
"There's no need to be disrespectful."
He stops. "Look." He's getting a bit shirty now. "Do you want my help or not?"
"All right, I'm sorry."
"This way."
We walk almost half the cemetery and find a few Johnsons, but not the one I'm after.
"You're a bit of a fussy bastard, aren't you?" the security guard says at one point. "Won't this one do?"
"This is Gertrude Johnson."
"Who you after again?"
"Jimmy." But this time I add something. "Wife's name's Milla."
He jolts to a stop, looks at me, and says, "Milla? Shit, I think I know that one. I remember the name because she's mentioned on the stone." He mutters now as we walk quickly to the other end of the graveyard. "Milla, Milla..."
His flashlight slaps a stone, and it's there.
