Foretold? by Littlewing1957
A young Jack Twist walked past the grieving plain every day on his way to school. The things he often saw there would have leveled a lesser sort, but Jack remembered his mom telling him that he will be able to “see” things. Jack’s mom said he was born with a veil over his face, a thin membrane that the doctors had to remove. Mrs. Twist said that Jack was special, had the ability to see into the next world. Jack believed her the first time he passed by the grieving plain.
Jack generally hurried past the cemetery and tried to keep his eyes straight on the road ahead. But being young, his curiosity always got the better of him. Jack looked over at the headstones and saw, as clear as day, Lester Wolfe standing near a gravestone. Poor Lester died when he was only 29 years old in a car accident. Jack watched as Lester, all decked out in his Sunday best, including a top hat and gloves, gestured to him. Lester waved and wagged a finger at Jack, smiling all the while. Lester’s scrawny face was chalk white, his smile toothless. Jack stopped walking and looked at the specter. He shook his head no and kept walking. Nothing to do but accept his “gift.” Jack was accustomed to seeing spirits walking around the grieving plain. Most of them were folks he knew, but some were strangers to him. Jack always saw Grace Bailey, a 5 year old killed by a hit-and-run driver. Grace lived 3 farms away, but his family was friendly with the Bailey clan. Jack attended Gracie’s funeral, and seeing at her all laid out, he thought she looked just like a doll on Sears’ shelf. The funeral gave Jack nightmares for some time, and seeing Grace now, sitting atop her headstone, hands in her lap, her pretty dress dirt stained, well, it disturbed Jack. He had to look away when Grace stared at him, began to cry and ask for her mommy. Jack ran all the way to school whenever he saw Grace’s spirit.
The sightings were getting too much for 10 year old Jack, but he had to get to school. His folks couldn’t drive him there, and to walk past the grieving plain was the fastest way to the schoolhouse. One fine day Jack passed by the plain and noticed a service in progress. Young children strayed from the gathering and were jumping and playing among some of the graves. A lively young boy jumped from one space to another, and with every leap Jack felt a definite chill. He stopped in his tracks and watched the child jump from place to place. And Jack felt chilled to the bone whenever the kid landed. He remembered his mother saying that she got a chill whenever someone walked on her grave! Jack didn’t know what was happening, but somehow he had to see the part of the grieving plain where the child was playing. He made his way over, and when the children saw Jack’s approach, they backed away and joined the others. Jack noticed how the chills stopped when the children moved away. He looked at the spot where the lad was jumping and leaping. The land was untouched, but he watched in amazement as a small cross materialized in the dirt on the plot. It was shadowy, almost transparent, but as Jack approached, he was able to make out the wording. The cross read:
John M. Twist
November 3, 1943 – June 4, 1982
Jack looked up from the cross and felt Lester standing beside him. Lester pointed to Jack’s grave: his modest cross for a headstone with his gloved hand. Jack nodded sadly and watched as Lester slowly disappeared. Jack turned and resumed the walk to school. He always felt that he wasn’t long for this Earth, and if he was to die so young, he vowed to live life on his terms – give himself every moment!