Young Writers Society

I stood by the graveside. We were burying Uncle Eddy. Again.

A cool fall freeze kissed my face and I shifted my feet, rubbing my arms trying to stay warm. The group that had congregated around the burial site shifted restlessly and watched the casket with suspicion, breath held and fingers crossed this would be the last time.

A faint knock sounded from the casket and I stifled an annoyed groan. Others around me huffed with annoyance.

The funeral director unlatched the casket and propped the top open and Uncle Eddy sprung up, gulping air as if he just had the wind knocked out of him.

His face and blue eyes were pale, like death, the same shade as his gray hair, but he wore a huge sheepish grin on his face. He gazed at everybody who'd come to see him buried - hopefully for the last time.

"This is the last time I swear," Uncle Eddy said.

This was Uncle Eddy's eighth funeral. When a wizard dies they can't really die until all their misdeeds are fixed and any loose ends tied. Uncle Eddy was notorious for forgetting, so for the past few weeks, he believed he had all his business in order, but as soon as the casket was ready to be lowered in the ground, he would remember something else and the funeral would be postponed.

Last time he'd forgotten to give his cat, Muffins, her favorite toy, which he kept up on the TV stand for special occasions. He claimed that nobody would know it's her favorite toy and it would probably end up getting thrown out and he just couldn't stand to do that to his poor little Muffins.

"I can see that you all seem a bit... irked, but I've forgotten-" he glanced around, searching the crowd. His gaze met mine and he perked up. "Allie! Just who I needed. Ok, listen closely dear, this is very important. There’s a letter hidden in the third book to the left located on the second to top bookshelf in my bedroom. Please bring me that letter.” He paused, rubbing his chin in thought. “I also think I left the oven on. Do you mind checking that?”

“Of course, Uncle Eddy,” I replied. As the funeral director offered to take everybody back to the funeral home for the time being, I made the twenty minute drive to Uncle Eddy’s house, rolling my eyes when I found the door unlocked. Probably another thing he forgot to do.

Following his directions, I checked the oven (which was still on) and retrieved the letter. I glanced around at the cluttered room. Books were shoved into every corner and when the shelves with them, there were more stacked on the floor.

Turning toward the door, I stumbled over a stack of books, sending them flying into a scattered mess with a loud thud. I cringed and bent to pick them up. Uncle Eddy had so many bookshelves, it took me twenty minutes just to find the correct one.

By the time I made it back to the funeral home, half of the crowd had already cleared out. Uncle Eddy was chatting with a middle aged woman with a black floppy hat.

“Ah, Allie!” he said, noticing me. “Did you get it?”

“Yes, Uncle Eddy. I also turned your oven off.”

I handed him the letter. He turned it over in his hands, pondering, before calling out, “Margarete?”

A petite old woman, face wrinkled with age and a large pair of reading glasses stepped forward. “Yes, Ed?”

“This is for you.” He handed her the envelope and began rummaging around his pockets. “Hmm, there was one more thing… Ah, yes here we go. Allie, dear, where did you go?”

“Right here, Uncle Eddy.” I stepped forward and he held out his hand, fist side up.

“I believe this is yours.” He opened a fist, revealing a small heart shaped locket.

My eyes light up. “I thought I had lost that! It was from my great grandmother Gladys. Thanks, Uncle Eddy!”

“Yes, yes, of course. I found it a few months ago and ah, well, forgot about it… Anyway, I believe that’s it… Time for me to go.”

We took turns wishing him a final farewell for the ninth time, and when he laid down for the last time, we stood in silence for a long moment until the funeral director gently announced we would make our way back to the cemetery.

An hour later, we gathered around the graveside again, shivering in our coats, breath held as the casket was slowly lowered in the ground and the funeral director began pouring dirt in the hole.

Only when the casket was finally buried did I take a deep, shaky breath. Uncle Eddy was gone, and I didn’t bother to wipe the tears that escaped.

I clutched the locket Uncle Eddy had found and turned to leave. On my way to the car, I ran into Margarete.

“Do you know what was in the envelope? Old coupons and a note that read: Margarete, I’m sorry I stole your coupons. I would have given the originals back, but they were expired, so here are some new ones. I hope that’s alright. Love, Ed.” She sniffled, adjusting her glasses. “I don’t know why he worries about such things.”

I gave a small smile. “Uncle Eddy always had a quirk for the trivial things.”