Free Laughter in the Wind by SL Harris

surrounding her death. She hadn’t been able to find any relatives in the area despite all her research. They looked closely at the other markers in the cemetery but garnered no new clues.
    “Why does your dad think you would fall in a grave if you walk over it?” Olivia asked, stepping carefully around where she thought each coffin would be buried.
    “They used to not put those concrete vaults in the ground to put the coffins into so over the years the wooden coffins would rot and the ground would settle and become soft at the top. I guess people would sink down into the dirt some if they walked over one in that condition. I’ve never seen it happen but I’ve always been told about it,” Rebecca explained.
    “Do you spend a lot of time in cemeteries then?” Olivia teased.
    “Well, actually, more than you might think. In the summer, about once a month, Dad and I mow the family cemetery on the other side of town. Every Memorial Day, we have a family picnic at the old log church at the family cemetery grounds and about a month before that we have a work day and different members of the extended family show up to do upkeep on the old church and keep things repaired. I’ve also been to probably twenty or more funerals in my life.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding—twenty funerals?”
    “Yeah, at least. I don’t know, maybe more. I didn’t really keep count, you know.” Rebecca was surprised by Olivia’s reaction. “Does that seem strange to you?”
    “Yes,” Olivia answered definitively. “I have been to a total of three funerals and I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone our age who has been to nearly as many as you. Is this a secret hobby of yours or something? Is there some strange morbid side to you I need to know about?”
    Rebecca laughed. “It’s really not that unusual around here. Everyone in a small town knows everyone else. So every time anyone dies, almost the whole community either goes to the visitation, the funeral, the cemetery, or some combination of the three. Everyone stands around and visits with everyone else and if the deceased is from a large family like my dad’s, it can be like a family reunion, especially when we all get together for the dinner afterward.” Rebecca realized it was probably hard for someone from a big city with a scattered family to comprehend the local culture surrounding funerals.
    “That sounds nice, in a way. I mean, if you could call a funeral nice, that is. It sounds like everyone kind of sticks together to get through the grief. That sure beats trying to handle it alone. I remember when my Gran died. I was about ten and I felt so isolated. Everyone sat quietly like they were afraid to talk. After the memorial service ended, everyone just went home like nothing had happened. Nobody talked about anything and I remember how confusing it was to me.”
    “That sounds like it must have been hard on you, just being a kid and all.”
    “I think I’d like your way a lot better.”
    Rebecca remembered Grandma’s explanation about the circumstances around Mary Farthing’s funeral. “Grandma said there was a lot of secrecy surrounding Mary’s death. She died in the city and they brought her back to bury her close to their home. I got the feeling it wasn’t a typical funeral for this area, either. I wonder why?”
    “Maybe it’s been Mary’s ghost everyone has seen all of these years and the ghost did the digging,” Olivia suggested in a teasing manner, changing the tone of their conversation.
    “I think that’s highly unlikely,” Rebecca responded in a manner indicating her doubt in the presence of ghosts.
    As they were leaving, Olivia asked, “Where does this little road go?”
    “Oh, there’s an old farmhouse up there.” Rebecca had a sudden thought. “Do you still have that picture with you, Olivia?”
    “Sure, here in my coat pocket,” she said, pulling it out quickly.
    Rebecca was already several steps ahead of her, hurrying up the small