This is perhaps the funniest chapter of the book. It highlights how spirituality is presented in "The Time Thief."
CHAPTER TWENTY
When they exited the subway, they saw a sign
on the corner reading: St. Killian’s Cemetery, with
an arrow pointing to the right. They followed the
sign and after two blocks, found the cemetery. The steel gates
guarding the dead were impressive, a good twelve feet tall and
securely locked for the night. In all directions, as far as the eye
could see, the impenetrable fence continued.
“Every fence has a weakness,” said Marvin, Sr., “We’ve just
got to find it.”
They walked wordlessly the entire length of the cemetery.
When they turned the corner, they noticed that the barrier had
changed to an easy-to-negotiate four foot anchor fence. Sarah
climbed right over. Jacob attempted to help Marvin, Sr., who
pushed him away and managed the feat himself. Jacob followed,
embarrassed.
Sarah repeatedly shifted her eyes from the scene before her
and the map in her hand, shaking her head as if something
didn’t add up.
“This is not a map of these grounds. There are two paths in
opposite directions here, but only one path on my map,” she
said.
82 Charles E. Stoll
“We’ll just have to find it by the grave number,” Marvin, Sr.
said.
Jacob stared dizzily at the huge cemetery, its gently rolling
hills, its majestic elms and oak trees so handsomely backlit by
the moon, the tombstones standing erect in perfect rows, like a
marble orchard.
“You know, it’s really not as scary as I imagined,” Jacob said.
“It’s actually very peaceful.”
“Yeah, it’s a great place for a picnic,” Sarah said sarcastically.
“I think you forgot what we’re doing here, Jake. It won’t seem so
pretty later.”
“What was the grave number?” Marvin, Sr. asked. He had
found a sign where the two paths began designating plots one
to five hundred to the right and five-zero-one to one thousand
to the left.
“PF657 is what it says,” Sarah said. They headed to the left.
“I can’t believe how much money they spend on the dead,”
Marvin, Sr. observed, snorting his contempt. “They manicure
these grounds and place fresh flowers in front of every stone, as
if the dead could appreciate it.”
“I think that’s done for the visitors more than the dead,”
Sarah said.
“That’s even crazier,” Jacob joined in. “Why would people
visit the dead? What’s the point?” No one answered.
They continued on in silence, occasionally checking the
bronze markers at the edge of each row. Each one listed the plots
that could be found in that row. They walked a good half mile
when they found the marker that said six-fifty to six-seventy.
All three scrambled to the seventh grave in the row, Marvin,
Sr., took up the rear.
Jacob read the stone aloud: “Brigadier General Stanley
Grant. 1852-1918.”
“Well, that was a long trip for nothing,” Marvin, Sr. lamented.
The Time Thief 83
“Why would she have a map that leads to the wrong grave?”
Jacob asked. Marvin, Sr. was examining the grave marker.
“Look.” He said, pointing at the grave number. “It says
SKC657. But the grandmother’s grave is PF657. What do you
think the difference is?”
“I know what’s going on here. You have to remember,
Mildred’s grandmother was a poor heretic, not a God-fearing
Christian,” Sarah explained, “She’d go where they dump all the
trouble makers, outside the consecrated grounds. PF, Potter’s
Field, get it? SKC, St. Killian’s Cemetery.”
“That’s why I keep her around,” Jacob beamed.
“Where do you think that spot is?” Marvin, Sr. asked.
“They’re usually at the back of the cemetery, or the most
undesirable part.” She scanned the distance and noticed a stand
of trees that had overgrown brush that had never been properly
pruned. “I have a feeling it’s this way.”
As they approached the unmanicured territory, the creepy
feeling returned. There was a tilted sign that said non-Church
property and a single path like on Sarah’s map. There were
small, aged wooden gates at the entrance. One gate was lying on
the ground. They walked over it and followed the map, hoping
to find the correct grave.
The individual plots were barely distinguishable from each
other in this section of the cemetery. Some stones were missing
and some were overturned.
“Hey, over here,” Jacob yelled, “Plot PF657, Mildred Lumpford.”
He aimed the flashlight on the marker to show the others.
A gleam appeared in Marvin, Sr.’s eye as he grabbed the
shovel and invaded the earth.
“Oh, God,” said Sarah, “Then this wasn’t all a dream.”
“I’m afraid this is where reality begins,” said Marvin, Sr.
“This is what life really is all about, discovering the unknowable,
84 Charles E. Stoll
unraveling the mystery.” He gained enthusiasm and shoveled
carelessly, spraying Sarah’s jeans with dirt.
“Not everyone is cut out for this crap, you know,” Sarah cried.
“Some of us would rather read about it in books.”
Marvin, Sr. leaned against his shovel and wiped his forehead
with his sleeve.
“Are you the same girl who went on an adventure to find
a man she didn’t even know? Are you the same girl who took
down Jacob five minutes after you met him?”
“What makes you think that?” She flashed a dirty look at
Jacob.
“Men talk, just like women.”
“Don’t go on. I get your point,” Sarah interrupted. Jacob
flushed. “I get that we have to take leaps of faith. And we take
it further and further until we end up with a God that sees and
knows everything. And that’s the only way we can make this
crazy life make sense.”
“That still doesn’t make it make sense to me,” Jacob jumped
in, diverted from reading the surrounding gravestones. “I’m an
atheist.”
“And how smugly you say that,” Marvin, Sr. commented. “An
atheist is just someone who has concluded that he must be the
greatest intelligence in the Universe since he can find no other.
It takes an incredible amount of vanity to make such a claim.”
“You hear that?” Sarah yelled to Jacob, who had resumed his
reading of grave markers.
“Yeah, I hear you,” Jacob responded, “and I’m ignoring you
on purpose. So far, I haven’t heard any proof of God’s existence.”
Marvin, Sr. continued to dig ever more fervently but could
not ignore the conversation. “You can’t prove God doesn’t exist
either. I think it would be far easier to prove God must exist
than that He doesn’t. Some philosopher once said that if there
wasn’t a God, we would have to invent Him.”
The Time Thief 85
“You can’t prove that either.” Jacob shone his light into the
ever deepening hole. “So why do you waste your time?”
“Because the human spirit needs to know. Because we all
sense that our lives extend beyond our bodies and minds, that we
might be connected somehow to a greater source,” Marvin, Sr.’s
voice rose like a hymn in a cathedral. “Your spirit yearns to know
about things that lie beyond the physical plane, like love and
truth and peace and yes, God. According to you, none of these
things exist because you can’t see or measure them. But I know
better.” He looked at Jacob with disdain. “Here, take this shovel.
Maybe you were meant to be more of a worker than a thinker.”
“He has a point, you know,” Sarah said to Jacob. “How did we
fall in love so easily when we knew nothing about each other?
We took lots of leaps of faith and wound up with something
very real, even if you can’t see or measure it, because we both
felt it.”
“Well, maybe,” Jacob said defensively. “All I know is that
when you start believing in things that you cannot prove exist,
you are on a slippery slope to becoming delusional.”
He pointed towards the old man, who was dancing in the
darkness among the graves, expressing his freedom. “See?”
Jacob playfully shoveled some dirt in Sarah’s direction. She
grabbed a handful and tossed it back.
“Pleeeaase don’t tell me you only rely on proven fact; you
know that’s a lie,” Sarah pleaded, “You always assume you know
what people are thinking when you really don’t.”
“Some people are easy to figure out.”
“You come up with crazy theories about why the government
does this or that and it’s not based on fact.”
“Sometimes, you just infer things.”
“No, you are filling in the missing pieces with information
you don’t know, like everyone else, just to get a complete picture
in your head. Without God, you never have a complete picture.”
86 Charles E. Stoll
“And like everyone else, atheist or not, you would still
probably like to know the reason for your existence.” Marvin,
Sr. had danced his way back into the conversation.
“It would help, but it’s not coming,” Jacob objected. “Why
can’t you just let me accept that I know I cannot know, and let
me get on with it.”
“Because if you don’t even know what your life is for, how
can you get on with it?”
Confused, Jacob dug the shovel into the earth. They all heard
the solid thud. The three quickly snapped to attention and
remembered why they were there, the excitement returning.
Marvin, Sr. grabbed the shovel and scraped the remaining dirt
from atop the coffin. Proud of his accomplishment, he danced
another jig, enjoying the sounds of his shoes tapping on the
solid wood, and shouted out loud, “This is what life is all about,
finding your spirit, having the courage to find out the truth,
earning the right to speak with God.” His dance became more
and more maniacal until his right foot went straight through
the coffin’s top.
“Help. I feel bone.” Marvin, Sr.’s face went pale as he struggled
to remove his foot to no avail. Jacob pulled on his left arm until
the foot emerged.
“Not so full of human spirit now, are you?” Sarah challenged
the old man, “It seems that fear sucks the spirit right out of you.”
“Anyone would be caught off guard when they touch a
corpse.” Marvin, Sr. felt his strength returning and mopped his
forehead. “The human spirit always comes back stronger when
it gets trampled upon. I can feel that scroll calling out to me.
Can you hear it, Sarah? Hand me the crowbar, Jacob.”
Marvin, Sr. cautiously inserted the steel rod under the rim
of the coffin, but could not gain enough leverage to pry it loose.
Jacob jumped into the hole and they took turns jumping on the
crowbar until they heard the faintest of squeaks. They continued
The Time Thief 87
to work it until the wood groaned and cracked and Grandma
was suddenly right there with them.
Jacob shone his light on the corpse and his body revolted. She
did not look like she was expecting company. Her blue gingham
dress lay in tatters, no longer covering all her delicate areas. A
hole in her skull above her left eye gave home to a family of
maggots and her hair was scattered in clumps throughout the
casket.
As Jacob overcame his revulsion, the two men focused on
finding the scroll. Sarah, not wanting to be too close to the dead
or too far from the living, sat on the ground a few feet away.
Jacob knocked his flashlight against the coffin’s walls.
“Nothing but solid wood here. There is no place to hide a scroll.”
Marvin, Sr. grabbed the flashlight and shone it all about the
coffin. “Looks like she’s lying on a pad or something. It could be
hidden in there.”
“We’re going to have to lift the body out first.” Jacob looked
at Marvin, Sr. and a grin formed out of nowhere.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I think so,” Jacob said, “Hey, Sarah. Could you give me a
hand getting out of this hole?”
She got up clumsily. “I guess so. Are we leaving soon?”
The two men conspired. Jacob lifted Grandma’s right hand
but could not reach Sarah’s outstretched hand.
“Push harder,” yelled Sarah.
“You’ll have to pull me out by the arm. I’m weak from
shoveling.”
The two men pushed upwards on the body. Sarah pulled as
hard as she could and fell backwards with a corpse upon her.
A shriek to wake the dead emerged from her delicate lips. She
pushed the body off of her and began throwing rocks and dirt
at the two wise guys in the hole.
“I will bury you two alive.”
88 Charles E. Stoll
As she continued to heave dirt, she could not help but
notice the awkward way the body was splayed. Instinctively,
she grabbed it and dragged it to a more comfortable position,
sitting it against a large oak. Satisfied that she had made the
corpse appear more human, ignoring the fact that its head fell
forward, she was surprised that the whole process no longer
disgusted her.
“I bet you think we’re all crazy,” she said to the corpse.
Not receiving a response, she felt the “crazy” invade her.
She went over to the body and tried to maneuver the jaw up
and down herself and make the woman talk, but found herself
standing there with Grandma’s jaw in her hand.
“Do you see what you’ve done now?” She threw the jaw away.
“Who are you talking to up there?” Marvin, Sr.’s voice rose
from the hole.
“Nobody. I mean you,” Sarah thought quickly; she did not
want to have to explain her brief moment of insanity. “Have you
guys found that damn scroll?”
“I tore up all the padding and came up with nothing. Zero.
Zilch. A long trip for nothing.” Jacob climbed out of the hole
and then assisted Marvin, Sr.
“Does she look a little different to you?” Marvin asked Jacob
as he looked at Grandma’s new face. Jacob saw the mangled jaw.
He turned to the side and vomited.
“Oh, grow a pair, would you,” Sarah said.
Marvin, Sr. cast a surprised look at Sarah. “And when did
you grow a pair? Last I remember you were the queasiest one
among us.”
“That was before I had a little alone time with Grandma. I
agreed not to break her anymore if she would forget how we
defiled her grave.”
“I can’t believe she would agree to something like that,” Jacob
said, “Did she tell you that herself?”
The Time Thief 89
“It was a tacit understanding.” Sarah smiled. The two men
laughed.
“Well, my night wasn’t a complete waste,” said Marvin, Sr.,
“if I’ve shown Sarah that once you are placed in a situation, you
can cope with most anything.”
“I appreciate the lesson, but I hate your teaching methods,”
Sarah informed him. “But I’ve got to admit, I did have to expand
my concept of reality very quickly when I found myself alone
with a corpse at midnight.”
“See what you can learn from a corpse?” Jacob asked.
“Yes, it’s all because of you, Mildred,” Marvin, Sr. reached for
the body. He put his left hand in hers and his right arm about
her waist. Lifting her gently, he snapped her in half but her dress
created the illusion of legs as he danced with her amongst the
graves.
“Can you believe him?” Sarah asked.
“After the first puke, you can believe anything.”
“I know what you mean.” Sarah watched as a rib bone fell
clattering to earth. “Do you think we could rebury her before
she’s just a pile of bones?” She asked Marvin.
“We started out on a mission,” Jacob reminded him, “Now
we’re just defiling a grave. Your God wouldn’t approve.”
“We are defiling nothing,” Marvin, Sr. said. “We are merely
celebrating a spirit that has found its way home. These bones
mean nothing.” He snapped another rib and threw it a distance
for emphasis. “And God would approve of my little dance
because you cannot imprison the human spirit. It always breaks
free, no matter the situation. I dance the dance of life.” He leaned
the torso back into a dip and the remaining ribs dropped.
“There’s your clue that you went too far,” Jacob said, averting
his eyes.
“Okay, I know when I’m licked.” Marvin, Sr. carefully collected
the bones, the pieces of skull, arms and leg, and dumped them
90 Charles E. Stoll
unceremoniously back into the open casket. Sarah and Marvin
pushed dirt in the grave with their hands and feet while Jacob
shoveled.
Sarah looked at Marvin, Sr. cautiously. “You know, I liked
what you said about the human spirit being incapable of staying
within the body. It’s like we’re reaching for something that exists
beyond our own lives.”
“Yes, precisely. We need to know what exists next, why we
are here now, what the meaning of life is, and yes, if there is a
God. That’s why I keep challenging God, because I want Him to
show His face.”
“And let me guess. He hasn’t.” Jacob said soberly.
“That’s right, wise guy. But I can’t sit back complacently and
wait for it to come to me. The spirit inside commands me to
continue the search. You don’t know what it feels like.”
“Did you know that the definition of insanity is when you do
the same thing over and over, but you expect different results?”
Jacob responded.
“I think the definition of boring is when you do the same
thing over and over and are satisfied with the same result,”
Marvin, Sr. said.
“Regardless. You will never get the answer you seek,” Jacob
said nonchalantly.
“The answer is not the important thing. Learning the reality
of your own spirit is the goal.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Sarah said.
You certainly did interject a philosophical discussion of spirituality while three people were defiling a grave in search of some mysterious scroll that it would be doubtful would be buried with any one defined as a "pauper."
Perhaps it was the difficulty reading the dense presentation that I didn't pay much attention to the long discussion between atheistic and Christian viewpoints. I was most concerned with the seemingly lack of regard for the grandmother and the nonchalant way that the trio went on their quest. Perhaps I would have read more to find that out. You didn't mention anything about light. It would be difficult to see anything without some kind of light unless there was a rather full moon.
Unfortunately, everyone that's using Microsoft Word to paste into the AD editor seems to be faced with this problem of the format being messed up. I suggest that you save your document in another format besides .docx. Save your document text (.txt) or Rich text format (.rtf) before copying and pasting into the editor. I also, in my browser, do not just paste the document, but use a special paste provided, Paste and Match Style.
You can also edit afterwards, but that is tedious. The way it is now, reading is very tedious and hard on the eyes.
Well written and you seem to have some interesting characters.
As deafness, illness, and demonic forces close in around him, Ludwig van Beethoven must summon his faith and genius to complete the Missa Solemnis—a sacred masterpiece he believes could bring divine light into a darkening world.
What causes America's mainstream media to fear and try to destroy a group of artists and their work? What happens when such a creative movement grows in strength and threatens media's bottom line? Why would extremists find it necessary to take acti
My second book is about a boy who has Asperger's Syndrome and is bullied to the point to where he shoots up his school. I have divided the excerpts from it into three parts: Before, during and after the shooting.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When they exited the subway, they saw a sign
on the corner reading: St. Killian’s Cemetery, with
an arrow pointing to the right. They followed the
sign and after two blocks, found the cemetery. The steel gates
guarding the dead were impressive, a good twelve feet tall and
securely locked for the night. In all directions, as far as the eye
could see, the impenetrable fence continued.
“Every fence has a weakness,” said Marvin, Sr., “We’ve just
got to find it.”
They walked wordlessly the entire length of the cemetery.
When they turned the corner, they noticed that the barrier had
changed to an easy-to-negotiate four foot anchor fence. Sarah
climbed right over. Jacob attempted to help Marvin, Sr., who
pushed him away and managed the feat himself. Jacob followed,
embarrassed.
Sarah repeatedly shifted her eyes from the scene before her
and the map in her hand, shaking her head as if something
didn’t add up.
“This is not a map of these grounds. There are two paths in
opposite directions here, but only one path on my map,” she
said.
82 Charles E. Stoll
“We’ll just have to find it by the grave number,” Marvin, Sr.
said.
Jacob stared dizzily at the huge cemetery, its gently rolling
hills, its majestic elms and oak trees so handsomely backlit by
the moon, the tombstones standing erect in perfect rows, like a
marble orchard.
“You know, it’s really not as scary as I imagined,” Jacob said.
“It’s actually very peaceful.”
“Yeah, it’s a great place for a picnic,” Sarah said sarcastically.
“I think you forgot what we’re doing here, Jake. It won’t seem so
pretty later.”
“What was the grave number?” Marvin, Sr. asked. He had
found a sign where the two paths began designating plots one
to five hundred to the right and five-zero-one to one thousand
to the left.
“PF657 is what it says,” Sarah said. They headed to the left.
“I can’t believe how much money they spend on the dead,”
Marvin, Sr. observed, snorting his contempt. “They manicure
these grounds and place fresh flowers in front of every stone, as
if the dead could appreciate it.”
“I think that’s done for the visitors more than the dead,”
Sarah said.
“That’s even crazier,” Jacob joined in. “Why would people
visit the dead? What’s the point?” No one answered.
They continued on in silence, occasionally checking the
bronze markers at the edge of each row. Each one listed the plots
that could be found in that row. They walked a good half mile
when they found the marker that said six-fifty to six-seventy.
All three scrambled to the seventh grave in the row, Marvin,
Sr., took up the rear.
Jacob read the stone aloud: “Brigadier General Stanley
Grant. 1852-1918.”
“Well, that was a long trip for nothing,” Marvin, Sr. lamented.
The Time Thief 83
“Why would she have a map that leads to the wrong grave?”
Jacob asked. Marvin, Sr. was examining the grave marker.
“Look.” He said, pointing at the grave number. “It says
SKC657. But the grandmother’s grave is PF657. What do you
think the difference is?”
“I know what’s going on here. You have to remember,
Mildred’s grandmother was a poor heretic, not a God-fearing
Christian,” Sarah explained, “She’d go where they dump all the
trouble makers, outside the consecrated grounds. PF, Potter’s
Field, get it? SKC, St. Killian’s Cemetery.”
“That’s why I keep her around,” Jacob beamed.
“Where do you think that spot is?” Marvin, Sr. asked.
“They’re usually at the back of the cemetery, or the most
undesirable part.” She scanned the distance and noticed a stand
of trees that had overgrown brush that had never been properly
pruned. “I have a feeling it’s this way.”
As they approached the unmanicured territory, the creepy
feeling returned. There was a tilted sign that said non-Church
property and a single path like on Sarah’s map. There were
small, aged wooden gates at the entrance. One gate was lying on
the ground. They walked over it and followed the map, hoping
to find the correct grave.
The individual plots were barely distinguishable from each
other in this section of the cemetery. Some stones were missing
and some were overturned.
“Hey, over here,” Jacob yelled, “Plot PF657, Mildred Lumpford.”
He aimed the flashlight on the marker to show the others.
A gleam appeared in Marvin, Sr.’s eye as he grabbed the
shovel and invaded the earth.
“Oh, God,” said Sarah, “Then this wasn’t all a dream.”
“I’m afraid this is where reality begins,” said Marvin, Sr.
“This is what life really is all about, discovering the unknowable,
84 Charles E. Stoll
unraveling the mystery.” He gained enthusiasm and shoveled
carelessly, spraying Sarah’s jeans with dirt.
“Not everyone is cut out for this crap, you know,” Sarah cried.
“Some of us would rather read about it in books.”
Marvin, Sr. leaned against his shovel and wiped his forehead
with his sleeve.
“Are you the same girl who went on an adventure to find
a man she didn’t even know? Are you the same girl who took
down Jacob five minutes after you met him?”
“What makes you think that?” She flashed a dirty look at
Jacob.
“Men talk, just like women.”
“Don’t go on. I get your point,” Sarah interrupted. Jacob
flushed. “I get that we have to take leaps of faith. And we take
it further and further until we end up with a God that sees and
knows everything. And that’s the only way we can make this
crazy life make sense.”
“That still doesn’t make it make sense to me,” Jacob jumped
in, diverted from reading the surrounding gravestones. “I’m an
atheist.”
“And how smugly you say that,” Marvin, Sr. commented. “An
atheist is just someone who has concluded that he must be the
greatest intelligence in the Universe since he can find no other.
It takes an incredible amount of vanity to make such a claim.”
“You hear that?” Sarah yelled to Jacob, who had resumed his
reading of grave markers.
“Yeah, I hear you,” Jacob responded, “and I’m ignoring you
on purpose. So far, I haven’t heard any proof of God’s existence.”
Marvin, Sr. continued to dig ever more fervently but could
not ignore the conversation. “You can’t prove God doesn’t exist
either. I think it would be far easier to prove God must exist
than that He doesn’t. Some philosopher once said that if there
wasn’t a God, we would have to invent Him.”
The Time Thief 85
“You can’t prove that either.” Jacob shone his light into the
ever deepening hole. “So why do you waste your time?”
“Because the human spirit needs to know. Because we all
sense that our lives extend beyond our bodies and minds, that we
might be connected somehow to a greater source,” Marvin, Sr.’s
voice rose like a hymn in a cathedral. “Your spirit yearns to know
about things that lie beyond the physical plane, like love and
truth and peace and yes, God. According to you, none of these
things exist because you can’t see or measure them. But I know
better.” He looked at Jacob with disdain. “Here, take this shovel.
Maybe you were meant to be more of a worker than a thinker.”
“He has a point, you know,” Sarah said to Jacob. “How did we
fall in love so easily when we knew nothing about each other?
We took lots of leaps of faith and wound up with something
very real, even if you can’t see or measure it, because we both
felt it.”
“Well, maybe,” Jacob said defensively. “All I know is that
when you start believing in things that you cannot prove exist,
you are on a slippery slope to becoming delusional.”
He pointed towards the old man, who was dancing in the
darkness among the graves, expressing his freedom. “See?”
Jacob playfully shoveled some dirt in Sarah’s direction. She
grabbed a handful and tossed it back.
“Pleeeaase don’t tell me you only rely on proven fact; you
know that’s a lie,” Sarah pleaded, “You always assume you know
what people are thinking when you really don’t.”
“Some people are easy to figure out.”
“You come up with crazy theories about why the government
does this or that and it’s not based on fact.”
“Sometimes, you just infer things.”
“No, you are filling in the missing pieces with information
you don’t know, like everyone else, just to get a complete picture
in your head. Without God, you never have a complete picture.”
86 Charles E. Stoll
“And like everyone else, atheist or not, you would still
probably like to know the reason for your existence.” Marvin,
Sr. had danced his way back into the conversation.
“It would help, but it’s not coming,” Jacob objected. “Why
can’t you just let me accept that I know I cannot know, and let
me get on with it.”
“Because if you don’t even know what your life is for, how
can you get on with it?”
Confused, Jacob dug the shovel into the earth. They all heard
the solid thud. The three quickly snapped to attention and
remembered why they were there, the excitement returning.
Marvin, Sr. grabbed the shovel and scraped the remaining dirt
from atop the coffin. Proud of his accomplishment, he danced
another jig, enjoying the sounds of his shoes tapping on the
solid wood, and shouted out loud, “This is what life is all about,
finding your spirit, having the courage to find out the truth,
earning the right to speak with God.” His dance became more
and more maniacal until his right foot went straight through
the coffin’s top.
“Help. I feel bone.” Marvin, Sr.’s face went pale as he struggled
to remove his foot to no avail. Jacob pulled on his left arm until
the foot emerged.
“Not so full of human spirit now, are you?” Sarah challenged
the old man, “It seems that fear sucks the spirit right out of you.”
“Anyone would be caught off guard when they touch a
corpse.” Marvin, Sr. felt his strength returning and mopped his
forehead. “The human spirit always comes back stronger when
it gets trampled upon. I can feel that scroll calling out to me.
Can you hear it, Sarah? Hand me the crowbar, Jacob.”
Marvin, Sr. cautiously inserted the steel rod under the rim
of the coffin, but could not gain enough leverage to pry it loose.
Jacob jumped into the hole and they took turns jumping on the
crowbar until they heard the faintest of squeaks. They continued
The Time Thief 87
to work it until the wood groaned and cracked and Grandma
was suddenly right there with them.
Jacob shone his light on the corpse and his body revolted. She
did not look like she was expecting company. Her blue gingham
dress lay in tatters, no longer covering all her delicate areas. A
hole in her skull above her left eye gave home to a family of
maggots and her hair was scattered in clumps throughout the
casket.
As Jacob overcame his revulsion, the two men focused on
finding the scroll. Sarah, not wanting to be too close to the dead
or too far from the living, sat on the ground a few feet away.
Jacob knocked his flashlight against the coffin’s walls.
“Nothing but solid wood here. There is no place to hide a scroll.”
Marvin, Sr. grabbed the flashlight and shone it all about the
coffin. “Looks like she’s lying on a pad or something. It could be
hidden in there.”
“We’re going to have to lift the body out first.” Jacob looked
at Marvin, Sr. and a grin formed out of nowhere.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I think so,” Jacob said, “Hey, Sarah. Could you give me a
hand getting out of this hole?”
She got up clumsily. “I guess so. Are we leaving soon?”
The two men conspired. Jacob lifted Grandma’s right hand
but could not reach Sarah’s outstretched hand.
“Push harder,” yelled Sarah.
“You’ll have to pull me out by the arm. I’m weak from
shoveling.”
The two men pushed upwards on the body. Sarah pulled as
hard as she could and fell backwards with a corpse upon her.
A shriek to wake the dead emerged from her delicate lips. She
pushed the body off of her and began throwing rocks and dirt
at the two wise guys in the hole.
“I will bury you two alive.”
88 Charles E. Stoll
As she continued to heave dirt, she could not help but
notice the awkward way the body was splayed. Instinctively,
she grabbed it and dragged it to a more comfortable position,
sitting it against a large oak. Satisfied that she had made the
corpse appear more human, ignoring the fact that its head fell
forward, she was surprised that the whole process no longer
disgusted her.
“I bet you think we’re all crazy,” she said to the corpse.
Not receiving a response, she felt the “crazy” invade her.
She went over to the body and tried to maneuver the jaw up
and down herself and make the woman talk, but found herself
standing there with Grandma’s jaw in her hand.
“Do you see what you’ve done now?” She threw the jaw away.
“Who are you talking to up there?” Marvin, Sr.’s voice rose
from the hole.
“Nobody. I mean you,” Sarah thought quickly; she did not
want to have to explain her brief moment of insanity. “Have you
guys found that damn scroll?”
“I tore up all the padding and came up with nothing. Zero.
Zilch. A long trip for nothing.” Jacob climbed out of the hole
and then assisted Marvin, Sr.
“Does she look a little different to you?” Marvin asked Jacob
as he looked at Grandma’s new face. Jacob saw the mangled jaw.
He turned to the side and vomited.
“Oh, grow a pair, would you,” Sarah said.
Marvin, Sr. cast a surprised look at Sarah. “And when did
you grow a pair? Last I remember you were the queasiest one
among us.”
“That was before I had a little alone time with Grandma. I
agreed not to break her anymore if she would forget how we
defiled her grave.”
“I can’t believe she would agree to something like that,” Jacob
said, “Did she tell you that herself?”
The Time Thief 89
“It was a tacit understanding.” Sarah smiled. The two men
laughed.
“Well, my night wasn’t a complete waste,” said Marvin, Sr.,
“if I’ve shown Sarah that once you are placed in a situation, you
can cope with most anything.”
“I appreciate the lesson, but I hate your teaching methods,”
Sarah informed him. “But I’ve got to admit, I did have to expand
my concept of reality very quickly when I found myself alone
with a corpse at midnight.”
“See what you can learn from a corpse?” Jacob asked.
“Yes, it’s all because of you, Mildred,” Marvin, Sr. reached for
the body. He put his left hand in hers and his right arm about
her waist. Lifting her gently, he snapped her in half but her dress
created the illusion of legs as he danced with her amongst the
graves.
“Can you believe him?” Sarah asked.
“After the first puke, you can believe anything.”
“I know what you mean.” Sarah watched as a rib bone fell
clattering to earth. “Do you think we could rebury her before
she’s just a pile of bones?” She asked Marvin.
“We started out on a mission,” Jacob reminded him, “Now
we’re just defiling a grave. Your God wouldn’t approve.”
“We are defiling nothing,” Marvin, Sr. said. “We are merely
celebrating a spirit that has found its way home. These bones
mean nothing.” He snapped another rib and threw it a distance
for emphasis. “And God would approve of my little dance
because you cannot imprison the human spirit. It always breaks
free, no matter the situation. I dance the dance of life.” He leaned
the torso back into a dip and the remaining ribs dropped.
“There’s your clue that you went too far,” Jacob said, averting
his eyes.
“Okay, I know when I’m licked.” Marvin, Sr. carefully collected
the bones, the pieces of skull, arms and leg, and dumped them
90 Charles E. Stoll
unceremoniously back into the open casket. Sarah and Marvin
pushed dirt in the grave with their hands and feet while Jacob
shoveled.
Sarah looked at Marvin, Sr. cautiously. “You know, I liked
what you said about the human spirit being incapable of staying
within the body. It’s like we’re reaching for something that exists
beyond our own lives.”
“Yes, precisely. We need to know what exists next, why we
are here now, what the meaning of life is, and yes, if there is a
God. That’s why I keep challenging God, because I want Him to
show His face.”
“And let me guess. He hasn’t.” Jacob said soberly.
“That’s right, wise guy. But I can’t sit back complacently and
wait for it to come to me. The spirit inside commands me to
continue the search. You don’t know what it feels like.”
“Did you know that the definition of insanity is when you do
the same thing over and over, but you expect different results?”
Jacob responded.
“I think the definition of boring is when you do the same
thing over and over and are satisfied with the same result,”
Marvin, Sr. said.
“Regardless. You will never get the answer you seek,” Jacob
said nonchalantly.
“The answer is not the important thing. Learning the reality
of your own spirit is the goal.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Sarah said.
