Catherine Ipe

The light from his torch brightened at the letters that were carved on the chest of a tomb that revealed the name, CATHERINE IPE. They hadn’t known to where they have come or what this place they are now in was. They couldn’t even see one another clearly, or anything that was in the surroundings, for such was the loom they were in. It was through the dead darkness, by dodging all the obstacles that came in their way and by perceiving the existence of the other one only by the sounds of the branches that creaked at their hold and the dead leaves that crackled under their foot, somehow they gushed to this space of the land, a graveyard, by accidently. It was their mutual decision to not use the torches along the way for it may draw the attention of the passersby or it will be easy for anyone to wile them here and to spot them. But this time, for a second, to know where on the earth they have arrived, one man in them, without asking the other one, pressed on the torch and it flared at the tomb of CATHERINE IPE. BORN 16.04.1993. DIED 16.04.2016
They were gasping heavily, not the way you “gasp” after a morning jog or a heavy workout, this was different, fear flavored it was, and their haste to drag the air through their mouth made it clear that they both are in some trouble from which they had escaped and reached here, to the graveyard, with a bag hanging on one man’s shoulder. They were deeply engulfed in weariness and it was difficult for them both to adjust to their vision in the darkness. They had their share of hard work for the day and it was a lot too much for today. When the world around one of them whirled for a moment, the one hissed, to his companion, as low as possible “I can’t make another step, I am tired” and by saying that, he dropped himself over the tomb of CATHERINE IPE, respiring ponderously through his mouth. The other man didn’t reply rather he stood silent. He was watchful about his surroundings and he least had the intention to get caught at this time of the night from these avoidable murmurs. Rather, he unloaded the bag to the ground below and lay down quietly near to his companion and glared up to the dark sky where even the moon seemed dim, so was their mind and the world around them.
Lifeless were the things around they seemed, not even a single leaf from those overgrown trees rattled their presence. Muteness prevailed highly over the nature, making it difficult for them to adjust with the quietude around. Their ears badly needed some sound, to keep their brain hooked from the hollowness that mind creates when everything around you goes mute, giving your head more space to over think about the peril you are now in. It was as if fulfilling their wish, suddenly, from the blackness emerged few long grunts. Grunts that are sensed to be more aggressive and ferocious to their ears. They both astounded from their rest and circled their head to a spot from where this noise emerged, and at a safe distance from them found few pairs of eyes, glowing in the dark and staring exactly at them both. “Is that dogs?” One man asked. “Wolves are not found in the city” whispered his companion and he searched for some stones in the earth near to him. With a huge stone that he sensed was bigger for the dogs to get hurt, he heaved the stones in the direction of the eyes and sighed in relief when the cries were heard from where the grunts were heard the most. But, the dogs hadn’t backed off, instead they paced towards them in group, barking intensely and in aggression to bite off if caught, to revenge on those who trespassed into their territory. But the luck turned against them for the street lights
were soon illumined and so was the bulb in the backyard of the church. The world around the men got lighted at last, giving enough light for them both to watch the trouble pacing towards them, enough for them to ogle around the cemetery in whole, and to finally see each other.
Their pace came to an animated pause at the moment they understood that it is with humans they were playing with or was the sudden appearance of the lights terrified them? Anyway, their aggression levelled down and hastily backed off one after the other. “It’s all bad omen my mate. All this” the other man said, watching the dogs jogging away to a space covered with overgrown bushes, and he mumbled, looking at the lights illumining the earth “thanks for your timing”. But the other man remained silent as if he had collapsed into the pit of some serious thinking. Discontent, he seemed, his uneasiness clearly showed on his face and a pinch of fear was also read. On adjusting his sit over the cemetery and by caressing the beard with his palm, he slowly uttered “why can’t we hide it here?”
“Here? Where? Inside the cemetery?” his companion inquired, a bald man, aged around thirty five, with a week’s stubble and attired in red cheap tees and a low quality blue jeans with the shades of blood here and there over his medium fat body. Round was his face, (now torn displaying the bleeding scratches) with a shady brown complexion, showing clearly the dark shades under his eyes and a pair of thick eyebrows, its edges pointy like the mustache of the men.
“Anyway, we need to bury it somewhere. Let it remain here for the time, with her. None will be suspicious” the beard man replied. He is taller than his companion, with neatly shaped beard (now wet with blood) and a small mole at his cheekbone. Famished he seemed, resembling the figure of a drug addict, with his stretched veins clearly visible over his white skin and his chest expanded outside. His green tees were half wet with blood. Each time he stressed his left leg to the ground beneath him, the blood streamed down from the torn part of his black pants near the thigh, making the pain unbearable to him. But they were in a situation much worse than the wounds they both had, due to which, for the time being they ignored the pain and focused on their trouble.
Before advancing with the plan they have plotted, the both men split to both sides of the cemetery to secretly scan the environment and to check whether this cemetery has a keeper’s cabin in it. But there were none to be minded for the two men scanned the area so professionally making it sure that none was in the church or the nearby stretch. They were not bothered about the road that lay across the big wall that separates the cemetery from the main road or the other parts which were covered with forest where only stray dogs and their companies hustle. Their only concern was the church, and the old priest who has the ear of a dog and the eye of an owl working perfectly even at this age of 75. “What are we planning to do?” the bald man asked, sounding concerned.
“Let us pull this marble block and drop the bag inside it and push it back to normal.” The tall man responded as if the job can be easily done as said. But they both knew that this is a marble block and obviously it can’t be pulled out with bare hands, for it is pressed so hard to the match of the cemetery. “Don’t we need a shovel for that?” the bald man inquired. “It will be
somewhere in the backyard. You go and look?” the tall man signaled him to the backyard of the church and forewarned him to not make any unnecessary noises.
It wasn’t that difficult to find a shovel in the backyard of the church. It was stacked along with all those wastes of building materials near to an old shed in the backyard. The bald man was very careful about his each step while he searched for the shovel, for which he walked with his toe and touched the ground delicately. Walking back to the scene, he removed his shoes and hold it in his hands and in bare foot he walked, to reduce the sound that may cause due to his haste in steps to reach the scene and finish off the plan they had devised. On reaching the setting, he raised the shovel to his companion who by then lighted a cigarette and started pushing out the smoke rings in the dark, by sitting behind the cross at the tomb of CATHERINE IPE. The howling of the dogs resumed from inside the bushes, making the environment spooky and in horror. In the mind of bald man, negative thoughts sprouted, for he made horror stories in his mind remembering the movies he had watched. For him, the dogs howling was a symbol of ghosts presence, and for his bad luck, he is now in a cemetery where all the dead one’s rest in peace. “Not everyone rest in peace, there is many who seek revenge upon we humans” he thought. He hadn’t shared his concern with his fellow mate for that man seems nowhere near to the kind the bald man was. He implied a strong and a brave man.
“Ready?” the tall man asked and the bald man nodded squirming. He envisaged the scenes which he is going to encounter when they both pull open the cemetery. There will be a rotten dead body with germs crawling all over it and the nasty stench of it will surely make him puke over his fellow mate and above all, he was afraid about the nightmares he might see in the days followed. By the carvings on her tomb, it’s clear that CATHERINE IPE was a girl who died young. What if it’s not a smooth death? What if she had killed herself? What if her soul gets free when her coffin is opened? Like in the movies, what if she cause trouble for these two men and their generations that follows? These were his concerns, but when the tall man pushed the iron shovel through the gap of the cemetery, the bald man helped him, keeping aside all the troubles that may come with it for the time being and pushed the block to the side of his companion, making it half open.
Soon, the atmosphere reversed its demeanor and to violent it turned, with heavy booming’s fulminated from the sky and the lightening flashed around them like the cameras sparks in a limelight. The wind whooshed so hard making it seems like the strong rooted trees may go uprooted with the wind. The fronds in the trees and the shrubs with sensitive leaves and petals swayed so hard, ready to fly away if freed from its branches and stems. The trunks and the thickets made those scary creaking noises and again the dogs howled in loud, in the group, adding the background to the horror. “Man, look. I told you, it’s all bad omen” stuttered the bald man who jolted back with the first rumble in the sky and with his hands around the ribs, and in shuddering, he stood glancing around the environ with a face that showed his fear to the things unnatural to us humans. His companion sneered at his response and with a disdaining laugh, he signaled the bald man to light the torch to the inside of the cemetery and he himself leaped to peek inside it.
Again, the beam of light irradiated the words on her coffin that formed her name, over CATHERINE IPE. But this time, the light flashed over to some more writings, written in red color, styled in italics and it said “YOU LOOK AT A FLOWER THAT PLUCKED SO YOUNG. CRUEL GOD!” and a line curved under it. Atop them, the black clouds overshadowed the moon in whole and it started drizzling. Quickly, they both glanced at each other and with the looks they communicated their hesitation, their dismay, and their choices, to engage a dead girl in a dirty game devised by the ones still alive. But they knew there was no going back once in sin. Till now, what all happened to them in this night wasn’t all planned, even their meeting itself. Everything just got befallen upon them like every other abnormality that life offers randomly when in certain places. So that, they just ignored their battle with the morality for now, or they faked ignoring it, or they concealed the fear in their mind and instantly dropped the bag which was with them, over to her coffin when the rain attained its strength.
The rain poured heavily over them, washing away the blood stains from their body and somewhat cleaning their dirty outfits. For them, it was a much needed freshness. They remained drenched under the shower, letting all their strains and stresses to drain out from their body, which had them involved for hours long. Relieved, they felt, like a big burden has been unloaded from them, for the day. Only for the day. There are a lot more things to be taken care of, before they could actually make a living with what they had dropped into the coffin. But for now, they had done it all safely and believed none had witnessed their actions. It was then the bald man hissed, by looking above, letting the rain fall on his face and expecting an answer this time “Can I know your name now?”
“Call me Alex! That’s not my real name, though. You?” raising his wet hands to the bald man, he asked, “Abraham” the other man said and they both shook their hands and disappeared off into the murk to appear back some days later, when the world out starts to forget everything.