When the Saints Go Marching Out

“Knock it over!” the long haired boy in the dark flannel shirt called out to his friend standing by the worn headstone. “Do it, Ethan, I dare you.”

The three teenagers had driven out to the Eternal Rest Cemetery to find a secluded spot to drink the beer that Aiden had stolen from his dad’s stockpile in the garage refrigerator. This was not the first Saturday night they had spent out after midnight. Senior year was almost over and then, as they had heard too many times from parents and teachers alike, it would be off to the real world.

The three had made a pact as school started back in August to make it the best year ever. Bad treatment of the classmates the trio had put up with in the small town for twelve years, booze, and as many petty crimes as they could pull off, nothing was off limits. They were entitled to this.

Ethan looked over as the wind blew Aiden’s long hair around his face, “I’ll do this one, but you have to do the next one, and then Dylan can do the next one.”

Dylan, dressed in his signature black Under Armour hoodie, drained the last drops from his Busch Light beer and sent the bottle crashing into the dark. “Oh yeah,” he answered the call to action.

Ethan had the stocky build of a defensive lineman and the letterman jacket he wore proudly was full of emblems recognizing his prowess in the sport. He moved around to the front of the headstone and read, “Reverend Elias Stoneman”

Aiden laughed, “Stoneman, I bet that guy knew how to party.”

Ethan had enough liquid courage in him to carry out the crime and with a hard shove toppled the granite slab over to thud on the ground. The three boys burst out laughing as Aiden called out, “Great sermon preacher.”

They turned away and began to walk across the moonlit cemetery to find a victim for Aiden when a cold wind blew through them. “Boys, that was not kind,” a voice behind them called.

As one they all swiveled with the same thought, some deputy from the sheriff's department had been driving by and stopped to investigate the pickup truck parked at the entrance gate. What actually awaited them was something even more unexpected.

Before them floating just above the overturned gravestone was a nearly translucent figure. It looked like an older man with a bald spot and wearing a suit that looked like it came from something one of their grandfathers would have worn. Dylan stepped back and tripped over a gravemarker.

This strange sight began to speak to them, “As the good book says in the chapter of Luke, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’” The image wavered in place as if waiting for a response. When none of the boys responded he continued, “I don’t think you would like for someone to disturb your final resting place. Now I think it would be right of you to put my headstone back in place.”

The three boys had been rooted where they were since this image had begun to speak. Dylan looked up from where he had landed on the ground, “Are you a ghost?”

The old man gave a soft chuckle, “That is one term that I think some people might apply, but the truth of it is a little more complicated. As you can see, I can appear here, but my true self resides in the place of my heavenly reward. I can return to this spot to comfort, or in this case, teach.”

Ethan smugly interrupted, “So, ghost man, you aren’t going to hurt us or haunt us.”

Reverend Elias bowed his head, his ghostly image flickered, “No son, that would neither be my intention or within my power.”

“Then you are just another adult trying to tell us what to do,” Aiden pounced. “Why don’t you get out of here then?”

The three boys realizing that this wasn’t a horror movie gained courage in the fact that this ghost phenomena couldn’t harm them, just lecture and bore them like their teachers in school.

“I will close with this then,” the Reverend said, “Psalm 34:14 reads, ‘Turn away from evil and do good, seek…’”

Ethan threw his beer bottle at the ghost and watched as it sailed clear through and broke sending glass shards flying like shrapnel at the other headstones. He cut off the ghost, “Just shut up and move along old man.”

A smile played at Reverend Elias Stoneman’s face as it faded away. His tone sounded much less like a spiritual leader, “Sometimes, boys, we find in life we should have followed the easiest advice given.” With that he was gone.

“Can you believe that crock of bologna that he tried to lay down on us,” Aiden even more emboldened that they had seemed to have banished the ghost. “Too bad it isn’t that easy to get rid of all adults.”

Ethan and Dylan laughed at Aiden’s comment. None would have confessed that when the ghost first appeared they had each been frightened, but the admission that no harm could come to them swelled the idea that they could get away with whatever they wanted.

The boys continued to pick their way across the cemetery until Ethan reminded Aiden that it was his turn to knock over a headstone.

“Alright,” Aiden said smiling, “who is going to be the lucky one.” He walked around looking at all of the nearby gravemarkers. “Oh yeah, here we go.”

Dylan asked, “What is it? Who did you find?”

Aiden sat the half empty six pack he was carrying on the ground next to him. “Here we have Officer Amy Harris of the Oak Springs Police Department.”

Standing behind the marker an odd shape jutted out above the stone, but when Ethan walked around he could see that it was the top half of a police badge, the bottom of the star was etched into the granite headstone itself.

Dylan seemed to waiver from the idea of destroying this headstone. “I don’t know about this one, Aiden, I remember hearing my parents talk about this lady on the news a couple of years ago. She was killed in the line of duty.”

A dark cloud came over Aiden’s face, “A cop ain’t nothing but another adult always telling us what we can and can’t do.”

Dylan's voice cracked, “What if what happened before happens again. What if her ghost appears?”

Ethan punched Dylan on the shoulder and said, “Don’t be a pansy, Dylan, you heard preacher man they can’t hurt us even if she does appear.” He stepped up to Aiden, “This one is big, I’ll help you.”

With that Aiden and Ethan both dug into the ground with their shoes and put their shoulders into the gravestone. After a minute of strained pushing the granite slab gave way and fell backwards and crashed into a flat headstone behind it. The top point of the police star breaking off and tumbling across the ground.

“Dude,” Aiden doubled over in laughter as Ethan solicited a high five from the reluctant Dylan.

The boys waited, hiding the tension that each of them felt from what may happen next. When no apparition showed up they turned away to find a tombstone for Dylan to wreck.

They only made it a few feet when from behind them a woman’s voice called out with authority, “Hold it right there, boys.”

In unison they all turned to face what they knew would be awaiting them. There, as with the first grave, an image was above the broken headstone. A woman floated there in a police uniform, she looked young and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The boys noticed that this time the image didn’t seem as translucent as the reverend before was. Almost as if she is more solid.

The ghost began talking again, “I am Officer Harris and you three are in a lot of trouble. You are looking at a serious charge of vandalism for what you are doing.”

Aiden, emboldened by the knowledge that the ghost really held no power over them boldly said, “Well officer, why don’t you do something about it.”

Ethan jumped in also, “Yeah officer, why don’t head on down to the donut shop and stuff it.” He nudged Dylan to spur him into the verbal exchange.

Seeing that the ghost seemed to be unable to do anything but run her mouth like all the other adults that bother him, Dylan cracked, “Hit the road pig.” The other boys burst out in laughter and all cracked open a new beer.

Officer Harris was unfazed by the taunts, “I see we are adding underage drinking to our list of charges. Poor choices all over the place boys.”

“Quit calling us boys,” Ethan angrily snapped at the ghost. “All of you adults are so sure you know everything and I can see that doesn’t change after you die.”

Aiden took up the fight and marched up to the ghost, “We already got the run down from the preacher man. You can run your mouth but there isn’t anything else you can do to us. Let’s go guys.”

They started back across the graveyard when all of the sudden something struck Aiden in the shoulder hard and he yelled out at the shock of it. The trio looked down and saw the broken off piece of the granite badge laying at Aiden’s feet.

“You don’t know all the rules,” the ghost of the officer says pointedly. “I would suggest you leave and walk home. You’ve all been drinking and none of you need to drive. You had your chance to be reasoned with.” The ghost phased away instantly.

Aiden, a little shaken by being struck by the stone, looked at his friends, “Dylan, find you one to knock over next and we can go find our fun elsewhere.”

“I think we should just head out now,” Dylan responded, but quickly tried to cover his look of cowardice by rationalizing his statement. “I mean this is just getting boring.”

Ethan moved in front of Dylan, “No way. We each knocked ours over and you are going to do one too. If you decide to get talkative later you are going to be in this just as deep as we are.”

Aiden nods in agreement, “We are all in. Don’t be freaked out, just pick one at random, knock it over and we can scoot before the ghost shows up. They seem to be tied to their own grave area.”

Dylan made one last attempt, “Well, we didn’t think they could do anything to us and that last ghost threw a rock at you.”

Losing his patience, Ethan chimed in, “Just do it man or I will tell the principal who it was that broke in and stole all that food from the baseball concession stand.”

“Wait, you two helped me,” Dylan started but realized that the two looked unaffected by where he was going with this story. “Fine,” he charged forward and shoved a gravestone to the ground.

Aiden yelled in triumph at getting his friend to carry out the misdeed. Ethan chunked his bottle at the overturned marker showering it with beer.

“Let’s go,” Dylan said as he began to step away.

“Hold on, “ Ethan chimed in, “I want to see who you got first.” He stepped over to the grave and peered down at the etching. “What do those initials even stand for?”

Aiden walked closer and read, “Gunnery Sergeant Dominick Thomas, USMC.”

As he read those words an apprehensive feeling knotted in each boy's stomach. Every creature that walks the earth has a primal sense of danger recognition deep down inside of them. Most people go through life never having triggered theirs, but for three boys standing in the Eternal Rest Cemetery on a dark night, the one inside them sprung to life, flaring out like an Olympic torch.

They turned to run as behind them they heard the bellow of, “Semper Fi.” Looking like an angry gorilla in a uniform with a powerful over exaggerated upper torso, this creature looked more formed as a ghost than the night’s previous encounters. The ghost began to charge at the fleeing boys.

The heavy footsteps gained on the boys as they heard the unequivocal calling of their demise. “From the Halls of Montezuma to the shores of Tripoli; we fight our country’s battles in the air, on land, and sea. First to fight for right and freedom and to keep our honor clean. We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine.”

As understanding hit them, so did the weight of their pursuer and the three tumbled hard to the ground.

“This isn’t possible,” Ethan whispered out, his breath having been stolen away from the impact.

The weight of a foot wearing a combat boot pressed so hard into his chest that he heard a pop. “Well maggot, it is possible, whereas religion and law didn’t get your attention, an old Devil Dog will.”

Aiden, seeing that this ghost did indeed have the power to hurt them, scrambled to his feet. Just as he gained traction to run, he felt himself being picked up one handed by the back of neck and tossed. He felt his arm break as he crashed into a wrought iron fence thirty feet away.

The ghost spun around to find Dylan kneeling eyes downcast and begging for mercy. “I forgive you,” the Gunny Sergeant said. “But,” as Dylan looked up, “my right boot likes to hold grudges.” The combat boot snapped out catching the boy in the face. Nose broken, teeth scattered around him, Dylan slumped back on to the ground.

Satisfied that his lesson had been learned Gunnery Sergeant Thomas faded away as the blue flashing of police lights arrived at the gates. The deputy picked his way across the cemetery toward where he was having trouble believing what he had just seen.

As he found the beaten down teenagers he called in over his radio, “Dispatch, we are going to need an ambulance out at the Eternal Rest Cemetery for three injured male subjects.”

A click and response came back over the radio, “Copy that Deputy Thomas, assistance is in route.”

The deputy took another look around at the living but broken boys. He glanced at the overturned headstone. He did see what he thought he saw, “Way to go, Grandpa.”