Who: Charlie St. Cloud & Dr. Liv Moore What: Checking on the next new arrival. When: Wednesday, April 15, mid-afternoon Where: Ballard Funeral Home, Medical Examiner's Office Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Death. Discussion of autopsies or death in general since it's an ME office. Ghosts. Supernatural connotations. Status: Closed/Complete
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Lawncare was something entirely different when it came to being a caretaker of someone's final resting place. It wasn't enough to keep the grass clipped to an acceptable height for being within the city limits. A person had to compensate for how high a footstone or a headstone rose from the ground to keep the grass brushing the top without overlapping it; they had to make certain there was enough grass coverage to keep the soil from showing through as well as ensure it never allowed mourners to see any sunken locations where their loved one might have sagged below their designated six feet under the ground.
Charlie had gotten very good at managing the lawn at his cemetery back home. He knew more about grasses now than he'd ever learned about the mythology behind constellations and, at one point in time, the constellations had literally been his life. All he'd been able to focus on had been his next sail. His next adventure on the seas had felt more important than anything else. Stanford had promised him a scholarship for sailing, making Charlie feel better than a million bucks while he considered being able to sail as much as he wanted while earning a good education which would let him keep doing what he loved for as long as he lived.
Now, he never sailed, but he still watched the stars. Charlie could tell time by the sky. He could predict the rain based on the direction of the wind, placement of the clouds, and smell of the air. All the things he'd learned while exploring his passion for sailing hadn't left his memory. They'd only been put into perspective against all the things which Charlie had learned were really important.
He headed over to Ballard Funeral Home as soon as he got the call from the Porter family saying they were claiming his plot. There were things Charlie would need to see to before they stuffed Mr. Porter into his final resting place. It had been easy at home. No one questioned his desire to see the deceased first before arranging for their plot to be dug. They only considered it another quirk of Charlie St. Cloud being Charlie St. Cloud.
Knocking lightly at the door to the ME office, Charlie let himself in with a wave, "I hope I'm not bothering you. I was just checking in with Mr. Porter to see what grass he prefers I seed."
The Medical Examiner was a lot different from Dr. Lawrence back home. For one thing, she was a she and for another she was young---and pretty. There was a different look to her for a living person. Charlie wasn't sure what it was since he'd never seen it before. Could have meant she had seen death herself or it could have only been she was sick. Her eyes had a darkness to them which made him think sick was a possibility. People who were near death always had a different look to them to Charlie.
"It sounds stupid, I know, but it matters. Some people like Kentucky bluegrass since it's soft on the feet, but this is a hotter climate than its used to so Buffalo Grass or even Bermuda Grass would be a fine choice. There's lots of Bermuda Grass over at the cemetery. Oh. Sorry. I'm Charlie St. Cloud. I'm the caretaker over there. I was just, like I said, stopping in to talk to Mr. Porter. Are you busy with him? Do you need me to wait until you're done?"
Dr. Lawrence had always let Charlie in first, but he was willing to wait if the pretty, young doctor preferred.
Charlie had a feeling he could wait a long time for her if she asked.