Abe glanced at the names and elaborate drawings of dicks scattered across the building facades in fading spray paint. Downtown was little more than chipped paint and cracked sidewalks, a silent museum to the great downturn.

"It's no great depression," one of the older employees had laughed. "But it's been around just as long."

He pulled in front of the break room. Inside, Abe grabbed his radio and clipped it to his waist, which caused his jeans to sag on one side. He made sure the 'Frequent Stops' magnet hadn't fallen off the truck and started it up, letting the air conditioner overrun the heat. It was too early in the day to be this hot, and too late in the year. The new hire jumped into the truck with Abe and they proceeded to a small park on the east side of town.

"So, you in high school?" Abe asked.

"No, graduated last year. I'm Andy, by the way. My uncle got me on at the city for a few months before the spring semester," the kid said. He leaned against the door and stared out the window. "Are all these houses empty?" He asked.

"Yeah, it's crazy, couldn't build enough of these things and the prices kept shooting up. You'd look at house online one day that you couldn't afford, the next you couldn't afford it by 40% more. Then one day, boom! Miles of empty neighborhoods no one can afford to live in. But we still maintain the parks."

"Well, something here should look good," the kid shrugged.

The park was a soccer field with two picnic tables at the edge of it. At the entrance to the park, two massive stone legs, their tops uneven and shattered. The remnants of the great statues that dotted the town in Mayor Bennington's last days as the town's great leader.

The other guys in Abe's department milled around the edge of the park, near the tree line.

"What's going on over there?" Andy asked.

"God only knows," Abe sighed. "Come on."

He slammed the door shut on truck number twenty-four, a white pick-up with the silhouette pecan tree logo of the City of Marble Springs on the side, and walked towards the others, Andy a step behind.

Carl Earp is a slight build, sinewy and friendly. Perpetually smiling, he waved to Abe and Andy. Carl always had a part of wardrobe to stand out from the others. Everyone else wears a city shirt and jeans. Carl wore slacks or an old button version of the city uniform decommissioned years before and immaculately shined shoes.

"You want to stand out from the crowd if you want to succeed," Carl would say, planting his hands on his hip.

"Yeah, you stand out too much there, buddy," Clay usually replied.

Clay was referring to an incident several years ago that caused irreparable harm to Carl's basically non-existent reputation. In 2012, Carl would make the headline in the local paper (Moving a report on the infamous "Tito sightings" to page two) by claiming he was abducted by extraterrestrials and underwent horrific experiments. The other guy was Clay, who teased him about it incessantly.

Standing next to Carl, Clay was an older man, haggard, bald and thin, he's worked for the city for years.

"Park's Department isn't a bad gig," Abe was telling Andy as they approached his coworkers. "We just do stuff like-"

Abe stopped. He saw what the others were staring at. Just past the tree line a man hung from a branch. He swung slowly back and forth from a nylon rope. Clad in a dress shirt and tie, he was wearing shoes that cost more than Abe made in a month.

"Son. Of. A Bitch," Clay smirked, dragging out each syllable. "Right by the goddamn soccer field." Clay spit out a glob of snuff.

"You know who it is?" Abe asked. His stomach curled in knots, unable to look away from the man's purple face and protruding tongue.

"Not a fucking clue." Clay laughed.

"Wait... wait I know!" Carl squeaked.

"The fuck you do, smiley," Clay said.

"No, I remember him from the TV," Carl said, pointing to the swinging corpse. "He's that lawyer, from the commercials!"

"Holy shit, it's Don Waller," Clay agreed, nodding to Carl.

Abe looked at the new kid, now green. Carl picked up a rock and tossed it at the body.

"Come on, don't do that," Abe said.

Clay agreed. "Yeah, that's messed up, Carl, even for you."

"Sorry, I just felt compelled."

"Compelled?" Abe asked. A small pebble bounced off the dead man's leg.

"He has a point," Clay said, picking up another rock.

"Stop throwing rocks at the TV lawyer!" Abe yelled.

"Fine." Clay dropped the rocks. "Hey Abe, getting ready for the big BBQ at my place in a couple weeks. You coming? Everyone is invited."

"Can I come?" Carl asked.

"No," Clay said.

As they argued about invitations to Clays annual summer BBQ, the new guy never looked away from the corpse. He finally stumbled back and vomited on the ground. Falling to his knees, he continued to dry heave onto the field. Abe walked over to him and put a hand on his back as he watched Clay amble over to his full-sized pick-up, number forty-seven. Abe shook his head. Throwing rocks at corpses. Just like The Days all over again, a phrase the community use to describe the last three days of Mayor Bennington's reign. Total anarchy. Fortunately, Hart & Sons' Security returned order.

When Abe looked back toward the hanging man, he was no longer suspended from the tree, but standing under it, his neck broken and sporting a bulge due to the bones nearly tearing through his skin.

You gotta be kidding me. Abe's eyes grew wide. He looked up at the body still swinging in the breeze, then back down to the man's ghost standing underneath his own corpse.

Other than his roommates, Abe had never seen another ghost. The ghost of Don Waller, Attorney at Law, nodded to Abe and walked deeper into the brush. Abe's mouth hung open as he watched the ghost move into the dense foliage while Clay returned with a ladder.

Clay stood the ladder up and leaned it against the branch Don Waller swung from.

"What are you doing?" Abe asked. "Just leave him alone."

"Can't just leave him up here, goddamn it," Clay said. "We're not like those sick fucks during The Days."

"Clay." Abe sighed. "During The Days, you burnt down town hall and tried to run down the Mayor with a riding lawnmower."

"And I'd do it again!" Clay said, taking a step up the ladder.

Abe walked closer to Clay, standing beneath the ladder. "Seriously, man, his neck is pretty stretched out."

Clay pulled a pocketknife from his back pocket and unfolded it with a snap.

First, he heard a cracking sound. Then, a sound like someone was ripping a sheet. Abe looked up just in time to see the headless body of Don Waller, Attorney at Law, falling toward him.