The Gravedigger’s Truth

“It’s all rubbish and junk… Since he’s not hiding here, and there are no useful clues, we should leave quickly. This place is making me incredibly uncomfortable.”

“Isn’t this very house the biggest clue?”

A wave of sorrow washed over him. This dilapidated old house, the blood-stained rags, the stolen iron tools, and the past search for Pastor Elise at the church—piecing these fragments together, Mr. Reed could already vaguely sense the truth of the matter.

“So that’s how it is…” A flicker of realization crossed South Creek’s eyes. She pressed her lips together, her slightly downcast gaze revealing the turmoil within her.

“What? What do you mean?” Seeing her friend seemingly grasp the truth, Fanny grew even more bewildered. She had no idea what was happening.

“Mr. Barry, what exactly were the tools that were stolen from you?”

“Why the sudden question? Well, mostly hoes and shovels, I suppose, along with hammers, iron nails, and the like…”

“…Enough.” Mr. Reed suddenly struck the floor heavily with his cane, then instructed Barry: “Now, go gather everyone in the village who was close to Wede… And the village elders. Tell them to assemble at the graveyard… Do it in my name.”

“The graveyard?” Fanny’s small heart gave a violent thump. The word ‘graveyard’ stirred a trace of fear within her. She didn’t understand how this matter related to a graveyard, but a child’s instinctive aversion to death made her uneasy.

“You’re not suggesting he’s in the graveyard, are you?” Clearly, Barry also failed to grasp the Village Chief’s intent. However, after a moment of hesitation, he saw Mr. Reed’s unquestionable gaze and could only comply.

“…You two little ones, come with me.” After watching Barry rush into the rain, Mr. Reed turned to the two girls, gesturing for them to follow.

“No, what exactly is going on?” Fanny, somewhat panicked, questioned South Creek. Ghosts and specters were what she feared most. Seeing her distress, South Creek sighed with a sorrowful expression and said:

“If we’re going to the graveyard, it must be to mourn those who have passed.”

“…Huh?”

****

The village graveyard lay nestled on a grassy plot to the northeast. Verdant grass and countless wildflowers grew there year-round, making it the chosen resting place for villagers to inter their departed loved ones. As time flowed on, the number of interred grew steadily, causing the graveyard’s area to continuously expand. Thus, during the tenure of the previous Village Chief, the graveyard was restricted to only those who had made significant contributions to the village. Subsequently, most villagers buried their deceased relatives in a different area.

For Mr. Reed to have Barry summon all the village elders to this graveyard, it could only signify one thing that warranted such a grand assembly: the passing of a highly respected elder.

****

The rain continued its quiet descent, far gentler now than before, yet it carried an added nuance of lingering sorrow. As the three entered the graveyard, they were met with a fragrant, fresh scent. Despite being a place of rest for the deceased, it felt utterly devoid of gloom.

Mr. Reed led the two children as they wove through the graveyard. The dates engraved on the headstones gradually shifted from ancient to more recent times. After navigating countless paths, the trio spotted a figure draped in burlap, standing in the rain.

It was a gravedigger.

Beneath the dark, ash-grey burlap robes, a gaunt body toiled. The silent man swung his arms, his shovel striking the earth repeatedly. Even upon their arrival, he continued his work without pause.

“You’ve come?”

The rain had long since permeated his body; his thin burlap robe offered no defense against its relentless embrace. The cold seeped through the rainwater, chilling his very core, making his already gaunt frame appear even more fragile, almost like an ethereal specter.

“Wede… why go to such lengths?”

“Mr. Wede! What are you doing here?”

This ghostly gravedigger before them was none other than Wede, who had been missing all day. His voice, now as dry as tree bark, held none of its former vitality. Fanny was utterly taken aback. Confronted by Wede, who had finally appeared, she felt only a bone-deep chill.

Mr. Reed’s beard trembled incessantly. His eyes betrayed a mix of conflict, sorrow, and regret, for he too bore an undeniable responsibility for how things had come to this.

“I’m here. What of it?” Scooping a shovel of earth from a nearby mound, Wede turned his head, revealing his dark, weather-beaten face. His eye sockets were deeply sunken, framing bloodshot eyes, and jagged stubble covered the area around his purplish-black lips. Clearly, he had been toiling in this rain for an unknown duration.

“I’m sorry about what happened to you… You could have sought help from me. This way, you’re only harming yourself.”

“Seek help? Even now, you still insist on maintaining that image of yourself… How laughable.” Facing Mr. Reed, Wede merely offered a scornful smile. However, when he turned to the two children, a bitter smile, tinged with helplessness and tenderness, graced his lips.

“You two actually came… On a rainy day like this, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Mr. Wede, you’re…”

“My condolences… Mr. Wede.”

Gazing at Wede in that moment, South Creek felt an ineffable bitterness. Everything in this world arrived so abruptly, catching one unprepared, that when words reached her lips, only “My condolences” remained.

“Did you tell her?”

“She figured out the truth on her own… Regardless, I wouldn’t want children exposed to this.”

“True. South Creek is so perceptive; how could she not have guessed? If anyone’s to blame, it’s me, for holding onto a sliver of hope until the very end.”

As Wede spoke, he continued to wield his heavy iron shovel. The grave he was digging was now nearing completion. Yet, he showed no inclination to rest, merely swinging his arms mechanically in the cold rain.

“Hey, Village Chief Mr. Reed, I’ve gathered everyone! What exactly is—”

“…”

“Wede! You bastard, hiding here of all places!”

It was Barry, who had arrived in a hurry, followed by numerous villagers, the vast majority of whom were elders. Though they didn’t know what had transpired, hearing it was the Village Chief’s personal request, they had still followed him here.

When adversaries meet, tempers flare. Upon seeing Wede, Barry’s fury immediately surged, and he began to curse vehemently. Wede, however, silently turned his head away, ignoring him as if he were but wind, and continued with his work.

“You thief, I’m talking to you! Can’t you hear me?”

Seeing that the other man completely ignored him, Barry could no longer restrain his temper. He lunged forward, intent on confronting Wede. However, before he could take more than a few steps, a cane abruptly blocked his path.

“Stop, Barry, stop… It’s enough.”