Courageous Love - Jerry Cole Page 0,14
looking for him and did our loop around the cemetery and didn’t even see the light of a flashlight. The third night I walked up to his house and knocked. If he was inside, he never made a sound much less came to the door.
I was at a loss. What did Cecil think I thought about him? I wasn’t going to take the frankly fairytale story the kids told me at face value. I thought we were friends. A good friend wouldn’t start thinking he was evil out of nowhere. I wanted to hear him out and figure out a way to fix this. Obviously, people’s minds could be changed; Jordan had proved to me that not everyone could think that about Cecil. Did they know how he watched over the graveyard like he was its protector? Did they know about the flowers he spent his own money on each week for people he didn’t even know and couldn’t thank him?
But I couldn’t force him to come out and talk with me. That wouldn’t be right either. I started waiting where we used to meet in the graveyard as soon as the sun went down just in case he wanted to talk. I would wait for an hour, and when he didn’t show I would head home and try to fall asleep. I couldn’t always manage that.
It really cemented how serious it was when the next week on the day Cecil apparently always showed up for flowers came and went without him.
As I locked the door and flipped the sign to closed, Beth stood in the front window looking this way and that, a rare worried look on her face.
“Beth?” I started hesitantly.
She jumped a little, startled by my sudden question. “Yes?”
“Something happened the other day, with Cecil.”
“Did you get into a fight?” She asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing like that. I just. I saw him getting yelled at by some kids.”
Understanding showed on her face before she turned away. “Oh.”
“I talked to one of the kids about it and they kept saying he was some kind of bad omen. I tried to talk to Cecil about why they think that but I haven’t seen him in days.”
Beth began absentmindedly messing with some of the display flowers like she just needed something to do with her hands.
“I’m starting to get really, really worried.” I walked up next to her. “I wanted to ask him, but Beth I need to know how serious this is.”
“It’s not my place to tell you,” she said quietly. It must be serious with how weird Beth was acting. “But what they are saying isn’t true,” she said fiercely. “He’s never hurt anyone.”
“I didn’t think he did,” I promised.
She turned to me suddenly. “You have to go talk to him.”
“I’ve tried, really. He won’t even open his door.”
“If I know Cecil, he probably thinks you don’t like him anymore. It’s happened before.”
“What?” Who could hate Cecil after knowing him?
“It’s a small town. And something about living next to a graveyard affects people, they’re all deeply superstitious and afraid. Cecil is easy to blame for their fears and it’s hard for him to trust people after getting all of that.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“He thought, since you were new, you wouldn’t know about all of this.” She frowned. “I think you need to prove that your feelings about him haven’t changed even after learning what the townspeople think of him.”
I wracked my mind. I wasn’t very good at coming up with plans on my own. I knew I wanted to talk to Cecil and change the town’s mind about him, but I didn’t have the first clue as to how to do that.
Then it came to me. At least the first part did; the second half would have to wait. “The flowers.”
“What?” Beth looked at me confused.
“Give me the buckets of flowers he was supposed to come get. I’ll pay for them out of my paycheck. I know what to do.”
She smiled. “I think I know. And don’t worry, I’m not going to charge you. Cecil is my friend. I want to help him too.”
We went to the fridge and she pulled out the two buckets she’d saved for him. I took one in each hand. They were heavy but not unbearable. All the water keeping them fresh was most of the weight.
“Wait. You don’t have a car, how are you going to take them to him?”
I shrugged, still holding them. “I’ll carry them.”
“The hill…” her