A MARKER FOR BILLY.

Thursday morning is here again. Mercy how the days fly by. I looked outside, no rain this morning. No excuse for not walking my two miles. A few of weeks ago I did my Blog on Peace Church Cemetery and mentioned Billy Cook being buried there. In an unmarked grave. I have wondered since then does he roam the grounds at night, restless because of his unmarked grave. I have written a short story called, "A MARKER FOR BILLY." So at last Billy Cook's grave is no longer unmarked at least in my imagination.

" A MARKER FOR BILLY."

Annie turned left onto Peach Church road. She knew the cemetery she was looking for was not much farther. Betty at work said, “Turn left on Peace Church road and go a half a mile. Annie had not lived here long and did not know her way around very well. But she had heard some of the girls at work talk about this old cemetery that dated back to the 1700’s. She wanted to see it and maybe sketch some. She did black and white drawings. She hadn’t picked up her sketch pad since the divorce, too many mixed feelings to concentrate on drawing. But today she decided she would pull her pad out and go discovering.

What had really caught her attention when three of the girls had been talking about the cemetery, was that they said it was haunted. “Haunted,” she had asked? Yes haunted they had assured her. By a young man that in the early 1950’s that had killed a family of five and thrown them down a mine pit here in Joplin.

The story goes they told her was that when he was executed for his crime. They sent his body back to Joplin, his hometown, nobody wanted it. No-one wanted him to be buried in their cemetery. Finally Peace Church agreed but with no marker and on the edge of the grounds. The story goes they told her that he roams the place, restless because of his crimes and that his grave has no marker. Forever restless.

Annie saw the cemetery and pulled into the narrow lane. They had told her at work the place would have weeds, trash and broken stones. Vandals preyed here so much. Teenagers looking for a thrill. Volunteers would clean it up and then it would happen again. Annie got out of her car. Not prepared for the sight in front of her. Weeds needed to be pulled, broken glass and litter strewn everywhere. But the worst was the lovely old time faded stones. Many of them lay toppled over. Annie walked among them saddened at the sight. She read some, tried to lift some upright. Finally she settled on a old tree stump and opened her book, starting to draw.

She was busy sketching when she looked up from her book. Her heart lurched. Standing a few feet away was a young man, early twenties, his clothes outdated and dusty.

“What you doing,” he asked? He moved a little closer. “Are you drawing?” He asked in a soft voice.

Annie hurriedly stood to her feet. For some reason though she was not afraid. Slightly puzzled by this young man. “Yes I’m sketching,” she answered him. “I’m new here in town and heard about this cemetery from the girls at work and thought I would check it out. This is really sad,” she waved her hand around at the broken stones and debris. “This is such a historical place, its so sad its been treated this way.”

He looked at her a minute. As if he was sizing her up. Then he spoke, his voice a little louder than it was before. “There is one grave over there, it don’t even have a marker for anyone to break.” His voice lowered again. “I think everyone should have some kind of marker, no matter what they done. Don’t you?”It was more of a statement than a question. His face looked troubleed, sad.

Suddenly Annie knew who this was. She didn’t really believe it but somehow gut deep in her she knew. She felt her hands go sweaty. But still for some reason was not afraid of this person or whatever he was. “Yes, it is sad. But these graves that were marked were treated very badly. She stepped back one step. Wondering if she should start walking away, or maybe running, But her feet did not seem to be able to move. She breathed deep.

“You wanna go see it?” he asked as he turned to walk away. He seemed to expect her to follow and she did. They walked a little ways and he stopped at a mound of dirt that lay at the edge of the cemetery. “This is it,” he stated in his low voice. “Billy Cook. He was a murderer, a low dog.” He looked at her. “Nobody ever asked how he got so angry. Nobody cared. They just dumped him here and tried to forget he was here at all. He should of hadda a marker of some kind. Don’t you think?” He looked at her, his face quizzical.

She looked him in the eye and whispered, “Yes I think everyone deserves a marker. Billy should have had one.” She stopped a minute, a idea coming into her head. “I will see he gets one,” she stated flatly.

He stepped back a little ways. “Will you really,” he asked?

“Yes,” she answered, “I will.” Turning she walked away, never looking back.
Just walked to her car, got in, started it up and drove away.

Two weeks later on a Saturday morning Annie pulled back up at the Peach Church cemetery and shut off her car. In the seat next to her laid a small stone, a marker. Like the kind they use on children’s graves. She looked out the window for some sign of the young man. She saw none. Getting out of the car she walked to the passengers side. Opening the door she took out the stone. She walked across the cemetery to the mound of dirt, in her purse was a small spade. She took it out and dug an indention into the hard ground and lay the stone into it. The marker read, ‘Billy Cook.” May he rest in Peace.” She stood up looking down at the stone. She looked back up and saw him standing at the edge of the trees. Just watching her. She looked at him a minute then started walking to her car. As she started to slid behind the wheel she looked over to where he now stood at the grave. Looking down at the stone, a smile on his face. He looked up and saw her. He brought his fingers up to his forehead in a salute. She smiled, got in, started up the car and drove away. Billy finally had his marker after all these years. She would never tell anyone. No one would believe her anyway, but it didn’t matter. She felt good inside, sad but good. She never went back, never. She thought of him from time to time. And hoped he wasn't restless anymore. That finally Billy Cook Rested in Peace.