Following school the next day Vince headed to the library and began his research. A friendly aged librarian named Abernathy was so thrilled that this young man was more interested in the city history than hanging out with his friends that he was more than willing to assist. The cemetery had been owned by a small company that had gone out of business many years ago. A large sum of money had been paid to the city to purchase the land outright and therefor it could not be sold to anyone ever. Even though it was years ago that this transfer happened the city still honored the contract.

He was then directed to member of the Board of Trustees for further assistance. A call was made by Mr. Abernathy and an appointment was set for Wednesday. Before departing he borrowed a few books on the subject of repairing and restoring masonry and read them with great interest. Two days later he was seated in an office in the old city hall building awaiting Mr. Thames, the oldest member of the Board to arrive.

Despite his age, Mr. Thames moved and spoke like someone in their thirty's. Yes, he knew all about the cemetery and agreed that it was sad that it was allowed to reach such a dilapidated state, but there simply was not enough money to justify a clean up project. It was then that Vince asked for permission to enter the grounds and do some minor cleaning up.

"Why would you want to waste your time," Mr. Thames asked.

"It wouldn't be a waste of time."

"Ya looking for a place for you and your friends to hang out and get high?"

"No, that would be sacrilege. Besides I don't have that many friends."

"Why is that?"

"It's because I would rather spend my time in places like that then play sports or party."

"I will draft a letter that grants you permission to be on the grounds, now remember you are still subject to curfew laws and your parents will have to sign an accident waiver."

Vince took the paper and headed home. His parents had long accepted that their son was a loner, but as he was never in trouble and his grades were good so they overlooked his idiosyncrasies. They had always hoped he would find a hobby, they just weren't expecting this. It was signed and he promised them to be careful.

He called Mr. Thames office during lunch and informed him that he had the waiver signed. He was told to come to his office after school and it seemed that the end of the school day would never arrive. The end of school bell had not stopped echoing before Vince was out of his seat in his last period class and heading toward City Hall and Mr. Thames office.

Vince handed over the signed waiver and was presented with a ring of keys, very old fashion keys and a letter that stated he was allowed on the property.

"These keys should fit every lock there, it took me two days to locate them."

As Vince thanked him and they shook hands he was cautioned again to be very careful and to let him know if he could be of any help. Vince literally ran to the cemetery and though he found the key to the front gate it would not open as it was probably rusted shut. He paid a quick visit to the auto parts store and purchased a few spray cans of Kano's Kroil, the oil that creeps and applied it liberally to the lock openings before he squeezed himself through the gate again.

He was excited as he moved toward the old groundskeepers cottage. The third key he tried granted him access inside. The door creaked its protest at being opened after so many years. He sprayed Kroil on the hinges and swung the door open and shut a few time to allow the oil to permeate the rusted parts.

The dust was thick inside as no one had lived there in according to Mr. Thames guess in the last twenty five years or so. All the furniture was covered with large sheets and they had protected the fabric from dust for all these years and although not, new they appeared in good condition. A closet of cleaning supplies was located and though the liquids had jelled and were no long good, the mops and buckets were in good condition. He went back outside and found the tool shed, it was loaded with all manner of ground keeping and maintenance tools.

At once he started to clean up around the cottage. Leaves and debris were raked into piles and the blown trash was picked out of the bushes. It took a full day to accomplish this much but he was very happy with the progress. He then realized that there were no trash cans. The following day he purchased a box of industrial strength garbage bags and filled them. Remembering Mr. Thames offer to call if he needed help, Vince called and asked about trash collection. He was told to place the bags on the curb and a city truck would pick them up.

On Saturday he stopped at the local Dollar Store and purchased floor cleaners and furniture polish before heading to the cemetery and spent the Morning cleaning the cottage. He took a break at Noon and ate the lunch he packed and wandered around the reception desk as he ate. He located the files for the burial records, though the papers were old and the writing had begun to fade they had been properly filed.

After lunch he started scraping the wrought iron fence with the steel brush he located in the tool shed and was at it until night began to fall and there was no more light to work by. He returned his tools to the shed and locked it along with the cottage. It was as he was exiting he saw movement about five hundred feet away. It was a young lady, she was kneeling at a graveside. He called out and she looked in his direction and then turned and ran, she soon disappeared among the tall grave markers and monument in the back of the grounds.

As far as he knew no one visited this place. He wondered aloud how she got in and answered himself in the same fashion, she squeezed through the gate like you did.