An old man in a dark suit hobbled up a gravel path through a rural graveyard. Twisted old oak trees with bark darkened with age lined the meandering path, reaching across like steepled fingers with Spanish moss hanging down. Golden sunlight trickled through the leaves as the sun descended beneath the horizon.The old man carried three bouquets of flowers cradled in his left arm. He read the names on each of the headstones as he passed by, but he turned from the path and walked through the graves until he came to a group of three, two large and one painfully small: Douglas Ellender, loving father and husband, Caroline Ellender, loving mother and wife, and Marni Ellender, beautiful daughter, ages thirty-five, thirty-one, and six. Caroline and Marni passed on the same day, with Douglas joining them less than a year later.
With a groan, the old man knelt beside each one, clearing away the leaves and removing the older, desiccated flowers, replacing them with his new bouquets.
“Oh, hey, what the hell?” said a young man, unkempt and drunk, holding a bottle in one hand. “You scared me! I didn’t see you there.”
The old man placed his hand on a gravestone, using it to help himself up to his feet. He brushed at the leaves and damp spots on his knees. “I was just paying my respects.”
“Good thing I saw you when I did,” the young man said, smiling, swaying to keep his balance. “I was just looking for a place to take a piss. I was about to whip it out.”
A bright light shined on the young man’s face, and he squinted. He raised his arm to shield his eyes and spilled liquor on his chest.
“Damn it!” he cursed, wiping at the stain on his jacket. He glared at the parking lot. “Hey! Shut your damned lights off!”
“Have some respect,” the old man said.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the young man sneered. “Have you lost somebody?”
“No,” the old man said. “I’ve lost everybody.”
“Yeah?” the young man scoffed. “You think that makes you special? Everybody has. I’ve lost people too. You don’t see me whining about it.”
The old man nodded. “It’s time to go.”
“Go then,” the young man said. “I’m not stopping you.” He looked toward the parking lot once more. “And shut your damned lights off already! Are you listening to me?”
The old man reached beneath his jacket and pulled out an old handgun, a revolver, and he stared at it.
“Hey, now.” The young man backed away, raising his free hand. “I’ve just had a little too much to drink. I didn’t mean any offense.”
“I’m not threatening you,” the old man said. He held the gun up, pointing it away from the man so he could take a better look at it. “Don’t you recognize this?”
“An antique Colt Peacemaker?” the young man asked. “Yeah, of course. I’ve got a collection of handguns, myself. I’ve got one just like that.”
“Just like this?”
The young man stepped closer, frowning. “That’s not my gun, is it?”
“It’s time for you to leave,” the old man said.
“Not until you give me my goddamned gun.”
“It’s time for you to leave.”
“Stop saying that,” the young man said. “I’m looking for my wife and kid. They’re around here somewhere. And can y’all shut off those damned lights?”
“Douglas Ellender, beloved husband and father. They died in a car wreck a long time ago. And so did you. By this gun.”
“That’s a lie.” Douglas staggered back, shaking his head, dropping the bottle. “What is this? Is this a scam? A trick? Who the hell are you?”
The old man dropped the gun on the grave. “It’s time for you to go. You just have to walk toward the light.”
“Wait?” Douglas looked at the gravestones, reading the names. He fell to his knees before them, pressing his palms against the sides of his head. “Wait.”
The old man put his hand on Douglas’ shoulder and squeezed. “Go on.”
Tears streamed down Douglas’ cheeks. “I just miss them so much.”
“I know,” the old man said, his voice soft and gentle. “They’ve been waiting for you. It’s time to go. Just walk toward the light.”
Douglas staggered to his feet, squinting as he stared into the light. He whispered, “Is that them?”
“Yes.”
Douglas turned to the old man. “What about you?”
“It’s not my time,” the old man said. He turned away with stooped shoulders and shuffled toward the darkness. “I still can’t see the light.”
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