Just like any previous well-thought-out plan crafted by the Jones family, things didn't really go to script. Grandpa and I only had time to go on my first day there. We were already late so anxiety had me by the throat.
"Please don't embarrass me."
I had been begging Grandpa Joe since we had left home twenty minutes ago. However, with him in the passenger seat, all he had been doing was looking through his list of elder incubuses to possibly dine with for the night. My patience with him was running thin.
"When have I ever embarrassed you?" spoke Grandpa Joe. "You've got your father for that."
Ignoring his last snarky statement, my jaw dropped. "You don't remember the soccer match incident where you set the other team's coach's hair on fire? How about when you put snakes in my first date's satchel because you thought 'I could do better'?" And the other hundred times he messed up my so-called normal life.
He burst out laughing, wiping a few tears away, then chimed "Ah, those were some good times. So young and naïve."
"Grandpa Joe!"
"What, Juju?"
"Do not embarrass me." I stared my grandpa down until he got the picture. "Promise me before we get out of the car!"
I don't know what got over me but a swarming wave of heat within me bubbled to the surface. Tongue forked; my skin sprouted goldish black scales as my nails grew into claws that dug into the wheel. My eyes were burning which only meant one thing, they were glowing red with rage.
"Okay! Fine." He lifted his hands in mock defeat. "With a temper like that no wonder you've been single all your life."
"Good," I hissed as I reverted into my human form. Pulling into the parking lot, I broke out into a winning smile. Grandpa grew irksomely quiet, so I followed his glance.
Eerie spiderwebs and wet dead leaves decorated the place like dust in an ancient library. The massive moldy bottle-green and grimy 'St Mary's Cemetery" signage above the droopy entrance appeared to be dripping with some sort of unknown dark sticky liquid that made my stomach churn. The smell that infiltrated my poor car when I slid the windows down was the most putrid odor of chemicals yet. Even the bit of sky just above the mortuary had a depressing grey and miserable hue of blue to it. Calling this place dead was an understatement. Heck, it was the epitome of death.
The whole scene hit us harder than it should have. So much so it was as though we were in a different dimension.
Almost breaking my neck, I snapped my head at Gramps and said, "I change my mind. Let's call in and say I died or something."
"Juju?" Grandpa Joe smiled so innocently as he gestured to the funeral home. "They keep records of that shit here."
Without a care in the universe, the man stepped out of the car like he didn't hear me and made his way to the front entrance. As he wrapped his hand around the doorknob, I poked out my head from my window and whisper-shouted "What are you doing? Get back here! Grandpa Joe!"
He turned to face me once last time, yelling loud enough to catch a few passersby's attention on an afternoon jog, "For goodness' sake, stop making a fuss and get your wussy knickers out of the car."
Before I could even catch my breath, he had entered. At that point, all I could do was just curse the Heavens then run in after him, praying he hadn't caused World War III inside.
XXX
The whole interior looked like it was pulled out of a sixties magazine. Dark crimson drapes hung like giants from the ceiling. Old rustic wooden chairs decorated one side of the room and candles were lit everywhere similarly to some cultish ceremony was about to commence. This scene was typical of an open casket service, but my nerves were the only things with eyes that day. Creeping my way around the entrance, I noticed the backdoor behind the reception desk has been open the entire time. So I trod a little closer. The second laughter erupted from the open space, I ceased and began my hurried retreat to the exit. However, I am too late when I hear the words: "Hey Juju, come meet your new boss?"
I spent a nanosecond gathering my dignity from the floor then turned to the two weathered old men smiling at me. The larger man removed his gardening gloves then stretched out his hand and sung "Hello there, Julane. Welcome to the Grave House, you can call me Sam."
"Um. Good afternoon ..." I extended my hand and shook his. "Scrawny Sam?"
His belly laughter shook the whole joint as he confirmed, "Well I used to be back in the good ole day."
It took a second to register but, when it did, my cheeks burned from embarrassment; I couldn't believe I had said that out loud.
Taking back my hand, I apologized, "I'm sorry. That was so rude of me."
"No offense taken." Sam waves it off with a relaxed "I have heard worse in my time. Aren't you such a sweet girl, just like her father!"
"Oh, don't remind us," jeered Grandpa. Sam found Grandpa's reaction hilarious while I jabbed the old-geezer-I'm-forced-to-live-with in the gut and earned his revengeful eye. Sam just continued to enjoy himself as all this played out and that only made my ears redder.
Grandpa Joe and Sam talked it out a little more about their old days and their many adventures. It was all crazy stuff I imagined my grandpa was the mastermind behind, but some of their tales took me by surprise when they confirmed that 'Scrawny Sam' had taken the lead. The old demonic blokes had a hell of a time catching up, but the conversation didn't bring money. So, Grandpa Joe dismissed himself soon after and said he would pick me up later, while Sam proceeded with a tour of the place starting with the bathrooms, the reception area, the mailroom, and then the supply room.
"Again young missy, this" - he reveals an array of different machinery and gadgetry beneath us - "is where you find tools to keep this place in tip-top shape. I know it doesn't look that way yet but once you and Manfred get out there, it shouldn't be as bad."
"Manfred?" For some reason, it didn't occur to me that another person was working under him.
"Yes, Manfred. My grandson from Germany," he explained as we made our way outside and into the back of the graveyard. "The young lad is here for the break to help me out and stay out of trouble for a bit."
"Oh, I see."
"Yes, during the day, it'll be groundwork for the both of you then when nighttime falls, he'll be in charge of all the mail going to the underworld and you'll take care of the human world."
"What did you mean about him staying out of trouble?" The last time I checked babysitting wasn't part of the deal.
"Yeah, you know how young demons are when they are entering their prime," he joked - or warned - I couldn't tell. "They can't stick their heads in nothing but trouble."
A young fair-skinned man with dark hair and even darker eyes stepped out from behind one of the trees a few feet ahead of us, pushing a fully loaded barrow of damp dead leaves. He had the same dark piercing eyes his grandfather had but unlike Sam's full-of-life ones, his were cold, distant, and just screamed 'leave me the hell alone!' It was a typical facade of older teenage boys, and I supposed the kid was no exception.
"Speaking of the devil, here he is!" Sam sang with pride. "Manny come meet your fellow workmate."
With eyes as lifeless as a corpse, he sighed then mumbled, "Hey."
"Hi, I'm Julane." I tried adding half the energy Sam had but even that took all my strength. "Can't wait to work with you!"
Manny looked at his grandfather then at me before returning his way and blurting, "She reeks of tainted human. Is she possessed or ...?"
I shrugged to confirm his thoughts, and I instantly regretted it. Eyes widened, he gawked at me with such intensity I started feeling uncomfortable.
"No way. Are you what I think you are?"
This was one thing I didn't like being: a spectacle. Almost all my dad's friends and his family members were so intrigued by the fact I was an actual -
"Demi-demon in the flesh people," I grumble, "Take a picture it lasts longer."
Manfred lights up with excitement, almost drooling at the thought. "Cool, I've never met one before. I have only heard of them in folktales in the underworld. Did you know that roughly 99.9% of them -"
"Perish before they turn five days old," I finished for him. I had heard the same fact from my cousins at least a thousand times since they all had a memory of a damn goldfish. "Yeah, I know."
Sam picked up my vocal cues then asked Manny to come with him quickly. Manfred handed over the shovel and gloves to me. I watched them walk away, Sam appeared to be scolding him by Manfred's reactions and the boy seemed apologetic about the matter. They were kind enough to spare me of their conversation, but I knew exactly what they were going on about.
It was the same reason father never let me go schooling in the underworld or why my mother never let me play with other kids at the playground growing up: I wasn't normal in either world. I was odd and, sometimes, I wondered if I was always going to be alone.