Cemetery Street - Page 33/263

Count didn't call that night. I had to wait until morning to hear his story. "That bonehead is a creature of habit, once I learned his routine, everything clicked. When he has shop first period, he always takes a smoke break."

"Awesome."

"I'm sure he saw the out-of-order sign on the door."

"Did you put it there?"

"Does Rock Hudson have AIDS? Anyway, I did my best to fill the bowl. Of Course, I didn't flush."

"Of course."

"Then I sat and waited. I grabbed him by the back of his neck, slammed his head against the stall door a couple of times, you know those things just don't open as easily as they should. When I got it opened, I used his head as a toilet brush. Flossy always told me to clean up after myself."

I laughed. I actually felt sorry for Byrne.

"I made sure I did a good job cleaning the bowl. The bitch was, I never used a breathing toilet brush. It was hard remembering to bring it up for air. Should of seen his face," Count snickered.

All was quiet until Halloween. As the day approached, I had other things on my mind. The Ortolans involved me with their Halloween obsession. They put more effort into Halloween than my parents did Christmas. They were the first people I met that went crazy decorating for the holiday.

"Want to help us?" Diane asked as we sipped spiced cider in the Ortolan's kitchen. It was the Sunday before Halloween.

"Sure, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Turning the living room into an unliving room."

"Changing the parlor into a funeral parlor," Shannie added.

"Putting the fun in funeral," Diane said.

"How are you going to do that?" I asked.

"You'll see. On Wednesday, we need you to help Count bring our coffin over from Fernwood," Diane smiled.

"Your coffin?"

"You know, a box that you stuff stiffs in," Shannie winked.

I blushed.

Wednesday night the moon played hide and seek with the tombstones. When it wasn't hiding behind the clouds, it cast shadows of gravestones across Fernwood. Count and I carried the coffin through the shadows. A breeze rustled the trees. "You ever get weirded out living in a graveyard?" I asked.

"No."

"I'm freaked."

"Ain't no big deal." A minute later, Count paused. "Shhh, you hear that?" he asked.

"Hear what?"