Midnight – A deafening crack of thunder echoed across Ironbark Graveyard. A horrid tempest swept through the area, twisting and snapping trees and fences. The crushing force of rain battered the Cemetery ground. Anyone who may have otherwise considered visiting at the ungodly hour were kept indoors by the vicious winds. Every living thing with any sense had hidden away, so not a single living thing saw. At least, nothing that should be living saw. At the base of a tilted gravestone, recently dug earth began to shift.

-----

It was a nice day, all things considered. Yesterday’s storm had been fearsome, but after the downpour, only a few puffy clouds were left over. With the sun as bright as it was, Edgar had no doubt the roads would dry before he closed shop for the day. Plus, a good drenching every now and then would let the local flowers fill out beautifully. He wouldn’t be harvesting any, of course. He got most of his stock from out of town, but you don’t become a florist without some appreciation for the flowers.

It would be about another thirty minutes before the shop opened. Edgar had already clipped a few lilies from his garden out back and was replacing some of the older ones on display. The flowers he was replacing would still be good for another week or so, in his opinion, but the display flowers had to be at their most vibrant to catch the interest of passersby. The road his shop was on wasn’t bustling, but it got enough foot traffic to draw in a fair few customers. Most of his sales, however, were flowers for the newly deceased.

It was rather morbid, Edgar knew, that his business was kept afloat by its proximity to Ironbark Graveyard and relied of the tragic passing’s of his townspeople. He kept himself upbeat by reminding himself that it was an important service for the departed. Without his little shop, they’d need to find another way to get flowers or – dreadful thought - go flowerless. Besides, without it, he wouldn’t be able to keep his shop afloat.

He pushed the thought out of his mind and went back to polishing up the display.

After a few more minutes of tidying, Edgar heard a knock on the door. He looked to the source. A man – a boy really – who looked in his late twenties was standing patiently, hands behind his back, occasionally glancing at the flowers on the windowsill. Edgar checked his watch: about fifteen minutes till opening. He walked to the door.

“You’re a bit early,” he said, opening the door a smidge. “We don’t open for another few minutes, but you’re free to look around until I get the computer booted up.”

“Thank you kindly.” The stranger nodded and took his offer. From behind his back, he placed an aged-looking book on the counter by the door. “You have an exquisite display up front. These purple flowers are, well, quite dazzling.” His gaze passes through the displays and settles on a plant near the bottom of a display rack. “Hm, mandrake,” a slight look of surprise shows on his face before he returns to his usual pleasant expression.

“I’m surprised you recognize that one. It’s not too popular. As for the purples, those little pretties are chrysanthemums.” Edgar explained as he lifted a bin of old display flowers. “They’re originally from Asia and come in a number of colors. The yellow ones on the corner table are also chrysanthemums. Oh! the one’s I sell here aren’t from Asia though. They’re grown in… I don’t actually know.”

“Is that right? They’re fairly prominently displayed, are they popular?”

“Oh yes! Especially around here.”

“How so?” The stranger asked as he curiously fiddled with a flower bud.

“Well, there’s a graveyard around here,” the stranger froze. “Also, don’t touch the display flowers.”

“I don’t think the flowers are all too cross about it, but very well. Do you need any help with that?” He gestured to the boxes he’d started moving to the back.

“Oh don’t worry, they’re not as heavy as they look.” He leaned down to pick up another box. “They’re just filled with flow-ERG.” He suddenly strained. “Nope! THAT is topsoil. That is not flowers. That is … that is definitely not flowers.” He opened the box and began taking out the bags of soil to carry individually. The stranger picked up a few and slung them over his shoulder. Edgar elected not to protest.

“You mentioned a graveyard?” He queried.

“Yes, Ironbark, only a few blocks away. If you go out the back and take a left, you’ll see a sign pointing in its direction… Well, actually, you’ll see a sign pointing towards Ironbark church, but you can’t see one without the other, so-” his sentence tapered off as he leaned down to drop the bags. The stranger followed in kind.

“Yesterday there was a storm, so there wouldn’t have been anyone around there, correct?”

“Yeah, probably. Maybe some dedicated mourners would’ve … no, no, it was pretty bad. There wouldn’t’ve been anyone.”

“Any restless groundskeepers that could’ve been milling about?”

“Well, I can’t say for certain, but I doubt it. Why? What’s so interesting about it?”

“I just wanted to know if anyone’s seen anything strange since yesterday, just thought you might’ve heard of it.”

Edgar stopped to consider the line of questions. It was odd, even to him. “What for?”

“I’m looking out for someone. A graverobber, of sorts.”

“A GRAVEROBBER!?” Edgar dropped the bag he’d been picking up.

“of sorts,” The stranger looked unperturbed.

“Well, why do you think there’d be one ‘round here!?”

“Just a hunch.” The stranger placed another set of bags down. He stopped, looking thoughtful for a moment. “So, if it’s no bother, could you tell me if you see someone unusual or suspicious around … or even if you hear about someone suspicious from someone else.”

“I … I suppose so.”

“So, have you?”

“Have I what?” Had he robbed a grave? Absolutely not!

“Have you seen anyone suspicious?”

“Well… I mean it’s only been a day, less than a day really, I haven’t seen anyone but you since then.”

“Well that’s good.” The stranger carried the last of the soil bags over. Then looked at him for a moment before continuing. “It is best to be safe after all.”

Edgar shook himself out of his stupor, realizing that he’d brought over almost none of the bags, letting a random stranger do most of the work.

“Is this what you do every day?” The stranger asked.

“Pretty much. This and tending to the flowers and working the desk?”

“Don’t you get tired of it?”

“Not really, it can be hard work, but that’s what makes it worth it.”

“Not quite what I meant.” The stranger flashed a pitying glance, before dismissing whatever he’d been thinking about. “Anything else you need help with?”

“No, no, you’ve done more than enough for me already. Why don’t you just pick out what you came here for? I’ll cut the price since you helped me out.”

“What I came here for?”

“You did come here to buy something, didn’t you?” The stranger looks at him strangely.

“Yes, of course! I’ll look around for something.”

“I hope you find something that suits your fancy.”

Edgar returned to the front of the desk and booted up the computer. The system was supposed to make transactions a bit faster than when he was relying on the analog register. In practice, he found it frustratingly unintuitive, and it took too long to set up in the morning.

He glanced at his phone and sighed. He was supposed to have finished opening fifteen minutes ago. How could he keep his store running if he kept letting the opening time slip? He walked over to the door while the computer booted and flipped the door sign to ‘Open’. Then, he looked to his customer – pacing the aisles, glancing briefly at some of the bouquets but never lingering.

He began to move back to his post but bumped his elbow against something. A book? He didn’t remember having a book like this in the shop. It was unmarked on the face and spine, with only the texture of whatever organic-looking material the binding was made of.

Oh! It was the book that the kid brought in with him. The book that the … kid - what was his name?

“Hey um, what was your name again?”

The stranger looked over. His eyes widened when he looked at me with the book. He quickly approached, grabbing the book and pulling it to his chest.

“I hadn’t said. It’s Evan.” He bowed slightly with his introduction.

“Well, Evan, sorry about your book,” Edgar said sincerely. He hadn’t realized the book was so important to the guy. The boy, Evan, went back to browsing, now holding the book.

After a bit, he spoke, “Do you… have any shovels?”

“Shovels?” Edgar was caught off-guard. “I mean, I have a few but they’re not really for sale.” They’re mostly hand shovels for digging up the flowers in the back, he thought. Those tiny, sharp hand-spades – is that what he’s looking for? “Most of the flowers on display are cut. If you’re looking to plant, we have a few potted in the back, but it’s a more limited selection.” Edgar walked back to the computer.

Evan pondered for a second. “Of course, but to do so, I’ll need a shovel. Do you know where I could get my hands on one?” He flipped through his book before settling on a page and whispered something unintelligible.

“Well, there’s a department store near the center of town.” He gestured in a general direction. “It’s a bit of a walk, but they probably have what you want.” He checked the computer screen, only to find a rapidly flickering screen.

“I don’t have any money though.”

“Then you’re going to have a – damnit! – tough time getting something.” Edgar rapped at the side of the screen in frustration.

“Do you need any help with that?” Evan asked.

“No, I’ll get it eventually.”

“Will that eventually be after the store closes?”

“It’s just a little- “

“It’s no trouble, just let me have a look.” Evan tapped at the counter in front of the screen. Edgar sighed, gazed frustratedly at the noncompliant screen, and moved aside.

Evan positioned himself behind the keyboard and began typing away with one hand. After a few clicks, he slipped his other hand out of his book and put it on his lap. He whispered again and tapped a few more keys. The flickering faded out, and the screen returned to normal.

“Thanks…” Edgar said.

“No problem.” Evan backed up with a pleased look on his face – pleased, and maybe a little smug.

“Wait, did you say you don’t have any money?” Edgar finally processed what Evan had said.

“Yeah, I don’t really have anything right now.”

“Then, why are you here?”

“Apologies, would you like me to leave?”

“No, I just mean, why did you come here then?”

“Just to look around.” He paced back and forth the aisle. A bouquet caught his interest, and he leaned over to get a better look. Eventually, he took a step back to take in the shop in its entirety. “This is quite a large place, do you run the whole thing yourself?” He queried.

“Yes, I run this establishment, and own it too. I set things up every morning and clean things out every night” – a slight boast. “I even work Saturdays. We’re closed on Sundays though.”

“Doesn’t that take a while, If it’s just you?”

“It’s just a few hours a day. I usually open on time; Today was an off-day.”

“I suppose you did let me in, though you were still moving bags.”

“You arrived early, even if I did open late.”

“I arrived at nine. That’s when the door sign says you open.”

“You – wait…” Edgar checked his watch, then the clock on the computer. Damnit! Fifteen minutes late. That means he didn’t open fifteen minutes late. He opened half an hour late. That was inexcusably late. He’d probably have to wake up earlier to make sure he opened on time. That, or… “You said you don’t have any money, right?”

“Not a cent.”

“Why don’t you work here for a bit?” Edgar offered.

“Work here?”

Edgar considered. He had mostly offered on impulse, – “I don’t see why not.” – but it seemed like a decent idea.

“I look forward to it.” Evan clasped his hands together, clearly pleased. “So … What shall I do?”

“Well, first I have to fill out some paperwork. I’ll need a bit of personal information.”

“I don’t have all of my personal information on me right now. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Just get it to me before your first paycheck at the end of the week.”

“So, shall I start working today?”

“Considering that you’ve already done work today, I don’t see why not.”

“Well then, let’s get started, shall we?” Evan pulled his book from under his shoulder. “Is there anywhere I can put personal belongings?”