The Man Who Lived in the Cemetery, Part 5

Part 5 

For reasons unknown to anyone but the Unitarians who owned the land the cemetery was laid out in such a way that sections of recent burials were adjacent to sections that were filled a few decades before.  So it was that J in looking for someone he knew stumbled across the grave of his childhood friend’s father.

The grave was partly in the shade of a large hedge that abutted a horse ranch where well to do folks stabled their daughter’s horses (it was inevitably the daughter’s horse, given as a gift to assuage the guilt of weekend events missed due to chemically-fueled adventures with fellow finance bros).  The horse ranch was exceptionally well kept, the smell minimal even on the hottest August day.

The only conflict between the horsey set and the cemetery was when the column of trees that preceded the hedgerow had been stricken by a virus and cut down thus opening a line of sight from the riding paths to the graves and reminding the wealthy of an inevitable that they’d prefer to ignore.  Curses were uttered, lawsuits were threatened but ultimately fast-growing hedges were planted to once again blind the affluent to their ultimate fate.

J’s childhood friend’s father was not a rich person so his final resting place was as close as he’d get to a tony horse ranch.  J never knew is friend’s father but seeing the name carved on a slab of granite made him think of the childhood friend for the first time in quite some time.  He wondered if his friend ever stood in this spot, saw the grave.  It seemed unlikely given that the friend had moved a few thousand miles away and they were only in contact via the Internet from time to time.