Found

I have seen him precisely twenty-nine times.

The first time was normal, like every other person. He was just looking over the area where she would spend the rest of eternity. And then he picked out the rock that would mark her existence. I kept my distance then, not really interested in just another person. There are so many that come here. When he left he was crying, a pamphlet clutched in his fingers. Everyone receives it. It gives a discount at the nearest funeral home.

I didn’t watch as the janitor made the space presentable and dug a hole. I had no interest, not at the time. I was still staring at my own pit, wondering why I was the only one who could see it. But I did come over when they set out the holding sign, until the real stone was ready. I traced her name.

Patricia Lynn Scott.

Beloved Wife and Friend

1983-2008

Young, unusual and not at the same time. It doesn’t really matter; there are much younger dwelling in this place. Just as there are much older. Personally, I don’t think the age matters as much. At a certain point, there is little left to do in life anyway.

The second time I saw him was eight days later. And this time he wasn’t alone. I always step in on the ceremonies, at some point or another. Out of mild curiosity, really. All the fourteen attendees surrounded such a handsome bed, adorned with fifteen lilies and seven roses. Their stark black suits outlining the softness of the flowers.

And then I met her for the first time. Her hair was undone and looked unbrushed. Her eyes were lowered and she spent the entire service trying to grasp his hand. I moved beside her and softly touched the top of her head. And when she looked at me, she didn’t move or speak, but simply took my hand instead.

“Hello Patricia,” I said as the black beings began to move away from us. The twenty-one flowers laid upon the fresh dirt.

She looked away from me then and numbly prodded the new ground with her foot, “Pattie,” She muttered, “Why isn’t he leaving?”

She pointed to the solitary figure of the man who picked out this spot just for her and brought five separate bouquets, including the dozen roses he was clutching in his hands. I shrugged my shoulders, still holding her hand loosely, “He looks lost.”

Pattie’s eyes were on me and then shifted to him, “I guess I did lose him, didn’t I? I really shouldn’t be so careless.”

I shrugged again, “It happens,” I turned to her as she released my hand. She was busily trying to tie her hair up. I assumed she didn’t wear it down often, “Are you leaving now?” She paused in her efforts and glanced at me from around her elbow.

“I suppose I will. What about you?” She asked curiously.

I looked at him slowly lay the roses down, biting his lips till they bled. He left very quickly after that, rubbing his face harshly, “I’ll stay for awhile longer,” I turned to her, “If you don’t mind me keeping an eye on him,” I smiled and Pattie smiled back.

“His name is Aaron,” She released her hair and it remained in a loose bun. She absently tucks a few strands behind her ear as she held a hand out to me, “Goodbye then,” She murmured.

I took her hand, shaking it gently, “Goodbye.”

And that was the last time I saw her.

But I saw Aaron again in the midst of winter, dusting the snow off her weathered stone. He put a candle by her name and lit it. And though he didn’t say it, I knew he was praying it would last the night. It lasted for an hour after he left. The fourth time I saw him when the grass started growing again. He put flowers in a planter and overwatered them. The fifth time he came, I only watched from afar as he put three foil balloons in the dirt. They looked too bright, too colorful. And the sixth time he came, he cried.

It went this way for two years after Pattie left me and lost him. Aaron’s eyes never changed. Always that same lost look, if not miserable then desperate. He wanted what all people here look for. A foolish hope, really, they can’t find their love in a field of stones, they have to look farther, deeper.

The thirteenth time he came, I decided I would introduce myself. It only seemed polite, since I had watched him so many times. The first snow had mostly melted, leaving every footprint with a puddle of icy water. Aaron had to wade through the worst of it to get to Pattie’s stone. His feet were soaked, but he didn’t seem to notice.

I walked right up to him and then I felt the prickling of fresh snow. I looked up and found the white sky had opened up its bounty for us. Soon the air was white, blurring the edges of frozen rock. I looked back down and noticed Aaron had followed my eyes. He tore himself from the sky and back to setting up another candle.

“Her name was Patricia, but she told me to call her Pattie,” I started and his hand shivered in the cold as he fumbled for matches, “And she told me that your name is Aaron,” I pause as he formed a flame, cupping a hand around it protectively, “My name is Mary Beth Lansdale,” I pointed over the small hill, “I’ve been here for so long that you can’t see my name anymore,” I stared past Aaron’s still hunched figure. My stone is small in comparison to Pattie’s, only gentle indents showing that it wasn’t natural.

Aaron stood then, stretching his legs. He paused there for a moment, “I-I love you,” His voice came out as a pale cloud.

I peered into his cold eyes, “She can’t hear you,” I muttered, frowning. I reached out with my hand and softly took his hand in mine, “But I can. And I like it when you speak, even if you don’t do it very often.”

He looked down at his hand and I knew he was trying to remember if he brought gloves or not. He dismissed the thought and turned away from me, shoving his hands into his pockets. I stared after him, biting my lip out of habit, before letting out a long breath. I walked lightly to my own stone, passing by others slowly leaving the oncoming snowstorm. I bent down and traced out my name.

I don’t get visitors anymore, haven’t for a long time. Even when I did, it was only once a year by my daughter. She was so sweet, always bringing fresh flowers, towing along her little boy. The last time she came, she gave me irises. I always wondered where she went and I suppose I lost her just the same as Pattie lost Aaron.

In the spring, the fourteenth trip came. I touched Aaron’s shoulder lightly as he watered some potted daffodils, “See over here?” I motioned to the fresh stone next to Pattie’s, “We have a new neighbor,” I walked over and patted the tiny stone, smiling, “Garrett. He couldn’t even sit up yet and his face was so scrunched up. So I held him, and I think he liked that,” I looked at Aaron, who was wiping off his pants, “Do you think he liked it?”

He doesn’t answer, but sighed deeply, “I love you.” He murmured and turned around to walk away again. He didn’t stutter or stumble, as he used to, but his eyes are still silent.

I look back to Garrett’s stone, “Yeah, I think so too.”

By the twenty-ninth visit, Aaron stopped coming. I stood in knee deep snow, frowning to myself, wondering where he went. I stepped over to Pattie’s stone, “Where do you suppose he went?” I asked the half-buried stone. I turned to Garrett’s, which was completely covered, “Do you think he forgot? Or do you think he is gone now?” I looked up at the sky. It was a clear blue.

Years passed, but I still counted them by his non-existent visits. At the fifty-second visit, they had begun to dig holes on the other side of the hill, far from Pattie’s or Garrett’s, even farther from mine. I met Janet and Kimberly there, two sisters. They held each other and made stupid jokes. Soon after I came across Fred, who was so old that he clutched me by the elbow for support.

In the eighty-ninth visit, the last stone was laid and a fence was put up, “All full,” I muttered. Sitting on my stone, I gazed at the new fence until the hundredth visit. And by the hundred-thirtieth visit hardly anyone came at all to this old field of stones. It made me so sad, to see all the rocks forgotten. I began to make rounds through the entire enclosure, talking to all three-hundred-seventy-five stones by name. Talking to myself.

On the two-hundred-fortieth visit, Aaron came back.

He was being carried by a young woman who had his eyes, the same sadness and everything. I stood behind her as she sprinkled pieces of him over Pattie’s grave. And when the woman walked away, he stood up slowly and looked right at me.

I smiled widely and took his hand, “Hello, Aaron. I’ve missed you.”

He grinned weakly back and looked at Pattie’s grave, “I don’t even remember what she looked like anymore,” He ran a hand through his thin hair, “It’s been so long. And so much has changed since then.”

I rubbed my thumb over his knuckles, “She had long hair,” My eyes lowered slightly, “And she stood very straight and proud. She felt bad, you know, for losing you,” I smiled softly, “She said she was careless.”

Aaron looked at me then, really looked at me, “You’re lost too, aren’t you,” He whispered and suddenly he didn’t seem so old and I didn’t feel so young.

I looked down at the ground, “Yes, I have been for a long time,” I quickly glanced back up, “But it is okay. I have met so many nice people here!” I pulled his hand and made him follow me, “Next to Pattie was Garrett. Then over here was Robert and his wife Eliza. Over the hill were Janet and Kimberly. Then Fred came later. And the last who came here were Josh, Emily, Katie, Suzan, and George. All so very polite.” I pulled Aaron even farther away, so the most familiar place to me, “And this is my stone. See? Mary Beth. That is what everyone called me. I didn’t get to meet anyone else around me…” I paused staring at the stones surrounding mine, “I wish I could have, they probably would have been very interesting.

Aaron’s eyes didn’t leave the back of my head the entire tour and I fidgeted nervously, “Mary Beth,” He murmured, “You’ve been here too long.”

I pursed my lips, “I know, I know. But it is impossible to find yourself after you’ve been lost,” I sat down on the ground next to my gravestone, absently stroking the exact place where those last flowers had been.

Aaron bent down, slowly taking my hand, “That’s why you need someone to find you.” He smiled then, and it was wonderfully bright, “Come on, it’s time to go now.”

And I found myself suddenly being held by so many people. I saw Pattie holding hands with Aaron, a baby Garrett in a stranger’s arms, Janet and Kimberly laughing loudly, Fred grasping onto a young man, and so many other people that I recognized and even more that I didn’t. And suddenly my daughter was in front of me.

Handing me sixteen irises that she picked herself.