A Grave Giant

a flash story by David G Shrock

Arranged in rows by color, gold up front and red by the picket fence, chrysanthemums lined the left side of the stone path. The rows of perfect bundles curved with the path around a big oak. Shivering in the breeze, green and yellow leaves sent wiggling shadows over the path and flowers. Brown leaves tumbled catching in the chrysanthemums.

Sebastian Rhemus stood on the path staring at a leaf caught within white bulbs, serenity dancing within green defiled by decay.  Another crisp leaf blew over the gold row and into the white. Somehow it appeared as though the dead leaves swarmed onto the white chrysanthemums ignoring the others.

Footsteps tapped stone. The cadence told Sebastian the feet belonged to his sister, Mary, the eldest child of the Rhemus family. He listened to the clicks, a shuffle, another click of her toe over the other foot, the way she always stood whenever she had something important to say.

Another brown leaf fluttered around the flowers and landed in the same white chrysanthemum bundle. The dead had a way of clinging onto the living.

Mary exhaled loudly.

Squatting, Sebastian reached out and plucked the dead leaves. Closing his hand, he felt the crisp edges breaking into smaller pieces. His opening palm released pieces fluttering onto dirt.

“Mum loved her mums,” said Mary. Hugging herself, she twisted at her hips sending her black dress swishing about her feet.

Looking over, Sebastian found his sister staring at the flowers. Even squatting, he still stood taller if only by a hair. At her height the world appeared different. Others hid their emotions by gazing down so that he only saw the tops of their heads often obstructed by hats. From down low he watched the long stare peering beyond the flowers into another world.

There was no need for an announcement, Sebastian read it on her face. Mary planned on taking their little brother to stay with their uncle. A smart idea while his studies kept him away.

Hearing the clomping of boots and jingle of spurs, Sebastian stood turning around. He found a face sagging with leathery folds and held out a hand. “Marshal Williams.”

The marshal’s hand felt frail in Sebastian’s massive grip.

Glancing towards the end of the path where the guests picked at a table full of snacks, the marshal nodded. “I thought the funeral was last month.”

Sebastian folded his arms and bowed his head. “Our mother.”

“Grief took her,” said Mary.

“My pardon.” Removing his hat, Marshal Williams placed it over his chest. “I didn’t know.”

Mary excused herself and rejoined the others. The marshal started to speak, but coughed into his fist instead. The wind gusted sending the oak limbs waving into a song, several yellow leaves flew over the chrysanthemums and through the fence.

The marshal coughed. The wind settled to a breeze.

“You found the rest,” said Sebastian referring to his father’s remains.

His mother had spent all her time thinking about her loss, more than her share it seemed. Everyone knew, his mother most of all, Rhemus the Giant had a dangerous job protecting the wilds between towns. His mother had always appeared strong, but it seemed she had hid her pain within a tough shell. Maybe she had placed her strength in the hands of her giant husband.

“Vermin did nasty damage,” Marshal Williams said, “but no mistaking that big skull of his.”

Now Sebastian was the giant. His siblings depended on him.

The marshal slapped Sebastian on the back. “Come,” he said. “This day is for your mother. Other business will wait.”

Walking through the open gate, Sebastian watched all eyes pulling away from the snacks turning his way. They looked up to him. He was the size of a giant, but he felt small, helpless. Even giants fell. They all depended on him.

Holding head high, Sebastian marched over to the far end of the table to a large ceramic pot. Taking a white chrysanthemum, he walked to the pair of graves where the casket held by ropes floated over the pit. On the left, his father rested beneath the pile of dirt. Mary took a flower and joined him. The others brought flowers forming a circle.

The priest gave a short eulogy. Tears flowed, but not on the giant’s face. Four men turned cranks lowering the casket.

Sebastian tossed the first chrysanthemum, and the others dropped theirs, white chrysanthemums swirling into the darkness.

Grabbing a shovel, Sebastian filled the pit while the others watched. Strength was the trait of a giant, and he shoveled dirt in great heaps, his face remaining somber. He knew that Mary wept on his behalf, and gained strength from this. Grave filled, he speared the shovel into the ground and stood tall.

The others crept back to the table of snacks. Only Mary remained at his side.

Sebastian gazed at the two graves, at his parents resting beneath the fading sky. He felt better knowing they were together. “They both loved her mums.”