Free Ghost a La Mode by Sue Ann Jaffarian Page B

the tombstones covered a wide range of years. She spotted some beginning in the mid-1800s and some that were as late as the 1930s. The tombstones marking the graves were just as diverse. Some graves were marked with solid and stately headstones, others with large chunks of weathered wood or large rocks, but most were marked with roughly hewn blocks of stone or concrete the size of a large shoebox. Names on the headstones were either primitively carved into the stone or etched on a small metal plate attached to the stone. Some of the names and dates were easily discernible, while most were difficult to read. Many featured only the name of the deceased.
    At the top of the mound of graves was a redwood gazebo with a short, white picket fence surrounding the inside area. Just to the right of the gazebo, the ghost of a young pioneer woman sat under a tree and rocked a baby. As Emma approached, she noted that the woman was cradling nothing in her arms. She rocked back and forth, her empty arms comforting air.
    Turning her gaze away from the rocking spirit, Emma stepped toward the gravesite. In the middle was a modern headstone with fine etching. Scattered around it were a few broken and weathered wooden crosses, some little more than dried kindling. The headstone explained that the plot was where babies were buried in the late 1870s. Emma was deeply touched. Over the years, the people of Julian had not forgotten the children of the early settlers and had erected a fitting memorial.
    Emma glanced over at the rocking mother with new understanding.
    "Three of my children are buried here," a familiar voice whispered from behind Emma.
    Emma turned to her left, not surprised to see the ghost of Ish Reynolds. "Three?"
    Granny nodded. "Two came before their time. Never had a chance to make it. Another, a girl, died of pneumonia during her first winter."
    "I'm sorry, Granny."
    Granny looked at the memorial. "That time, this place, was unkind to the weak."
    Emma turned back toward the childless rocking mother, but the spirit had vanished.
    She moved away from the children's gravesite and started again to wander among the scattered graves. Granny followed and didn't seem either bothered or excited that they were not alone. She took no particular note of any of the other spirits.
    "Granny, are you and Jacob buried here?"
    In response, the ghost of Granny Apples drifted through the cemetery. Emma followed, dodging scattered headstones and being careful of the uneven terrain and the spirits around her. Granny paused on the side of a small rise, several yards from the top. Emma looked down, scanning the various weather-worn headstones for a familiar name. It took her a couple of minutes before she spotted what Granny wanted to show her.
    Two small hewn blocks were set side by side. Emma knelt beside them in an attempt to better read the metal nameplates. Neither displayed a date of death, only names. Close up, Reynolds was fairly clear on both. Touching the warm metal with her fin gers, she traced out Jacob on the grave to the left. She did the same with the plate on the grave to the right.
    She glanced up at Granny with a puzzled look. "It says Elizabeth."
    "Elizabeth is my Christian name. When I was a girl, my younger brother had trouble saying it. It came out as Ish and stayed Ish."
    "Elizabeth is my mother's name." Emma looked back down at the graves. "In looking up our family history, we found a lot of women named Elizabeth over the years." She looked back up at Granny. "Starting with Winston's daughter."
    "My son did not forget me." Granny raised her head in pride.
    Emma stood up. Spotting a nearby bench empty of both the living and the dead, she made her way for it and sat down. The day had been a great drain. With the long drive and now the graveyard, Emma was downright spent, both physically and emotionally. She was glad she'd made her way to Julian during the week, when visitors were scarce. She would not have liked sharing her finds at