Cherry Pies, You and I (P.S the Devil Lies)

Buried

Sabrina had grown up around death, with crowds of mourners in their parlor lingering over the body of a loved one, and people coming in to make funeral arrangements bursting into tears because it finally hit them that this was real. Death is final. That the person they love will never walk this earth again.

She found some comfort in knowing that death was impartial. It didn't take its victims out of greed or malice, it just took because that was the way it had to be. She had seen all kinds of people in the parlor. The old who died peacefully in their sleep after long lives. The young who died in accidents or of illness and never even got to start their lives. Somehow, it was always sadder when they were younger.

Death was different in Louisiana. The first thing she had noticed was that the dead were buried above ground because the water table was so high. The stone of the tombs had been bleached white by the sun, and tall crosses cast long shadows across the ground. Rusty iron gates guarded the entrances. Some of the crypts looked like little houses, and it was easy to see why they were called cities of the dead. Death was a part of life here, not separate from it.

She had taken to exploring the cemeteries on her days off. There were all kinds of guided tours, but she never signed up for any of them. She wanted to be free to wander.

Her first trip had been to St. Louis Cemetery No. 1. It was one of the most popular burial places to visit because it was home to the final resting place of Marie Laveau. There were all kinds of offerings left for her from those who believed she worked her magick from beyond the grave. On an impulse, she plucked a single golden bobby pin from her hair to add to the offerings.

Sabrina may not have ever believed in fate, but she had always believed in magick.

It took a few months, but she had managed to make a dent in the list of cemeteries to visit in the area. St. Louis Cemeteries No. 1, 2, and 3. The first and second Lafayette cemeteries, along with the second St. Roach Cemetery, and the Cypress Grove. Next on the list, and the subject of her current adventure, was the Masonic Temple Cemetery.

The gates weren't rusted, and the Eye of Providence at the entrance overlooked all of the cemetery's occupants, living and dead. The tombs were much grander than the ones she had seen so far. They looked more like temples, and churches than burial plots. It occupied two, oddly shaped city blocks, and she was tired by the time she rounded out her visit at the section consisting of recent burials.

The smell of fresh concrete lingered in the air, and the area was colored by fresh flowers. A dark object amongst the grass caught her attention. She looked a little closer and discovered that it was a jacket. A leather one with a patch that said 'King' across the back. It was Caliban's. She would recognize it anywhere.

She picked it up and rounded the small patch of grass she had been standing in. She found him kneeling over what looked to be a new grave and placing a bunch of wildflowers in front of it. He didn't even notice when she walked right up to him.

"Hey," she said softly.

He looked up, surprise evident on his face. He stood up and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face. It didn't do much good. The golden strands just fell back into their previous position, and he left them there. She was tempted to reach out and push them away herself, but he was in mourning, and everybody mourned differently. She wasn't sure he would be receptive to her touch.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Princess."

"I figured," she turned to look at the tombstone. It was new like she had thought. It read: Sycorax Rivers. "Who is she?"

"My mother," he answered simply, "She was a Mason's daughter. Belonged to the Order of the Eastern Star herself. She wanted to be buried in her home."