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“I’m busy, Noa.”
“You’re always busy. What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing. I figured it was time to give him a service. He just ran for nine hours straight, so I thought he deserved one.”
“You gave a machine a gender?”
“Of course I did. You can’t tell me he doesn’t seem manly.”
I laugh and sit on the tarp, passing him the wrench when he asks.
“You know what I realized?” I say. “You’re fixed.”
His hand pauses. “What?”
“Your chest. You reached all the way across, and three weeks ago you couldn’t even lift the wrench I passed you without pulling a little face.”
“I don’t have a little face.”
“You have a whole face, buddy, and it does things.” I knock my knuckles against the machine he is working on. “I just noticed, is all.”
He comes out to look at me, wiping his hands on the rag that lives in his back pocket, and for a second, he doesn’t say anything.
“Go rake your dead people.”
“Love you too. Dinner’s at seven. Rue made us paella, and if you’re late, Cave gets your share.”
I wander off to the cemetery, but there isn’t much to do here. My zone always fares well because fake dead people are pre-scared and don’t do any damage. Mostly I have to rake and reset the props. One headstone is crooked where some hero has obviously tried to climb on it. My favorite part is when I sweep up everything guests have left behind when they’re running for their lives. This year’s Harvest Moon haul is laid out on the tomb I use for sorting—four phones, one shoe, a set of keys, a single glove filled with candy corn, and one engagement ring.
I take it all to the front office in case people call to find their stuff and leave it with Khodi. He tells me the man was just on the phone asking about the ring. He proposed to his girlfriend last night in the cemetery, and apparently I must have chosen that moment to scare the life out of them and he dropped it.
I’m sitting in the shade of the alleyway when the Jester finds me.
“Gravedigger, a favor.”
“Anything for a man who scares Vesper.”
“Can I borrow the hearse tonight? A prop run. Big, awkward load. Just to the mainland dock and back.”
“She’s all yours.” I dig the keys out of my pocket and toss them over. “Want a hand loading? I’m free after dinner, and I’m stronger than I look.”
“No, no. You’d ask questions about the prop and it’s a surprise.”
“Don’t mind the stereo—the cassette is stuck in there. If you get pulled over, the paperwork’s in the glove box. And please film the officer’s face if you do.”
“You are a lifesaver. I’ll have her back before you even know she is missing.” He spins the keys once around his finger, salutes me, and saunters off down the alleyway.
I get up and try to find something else to do, so I swing past the cornfield.
Cave is deep in the rows, resetting his snares and adjusting the extra scare rigging Cipher helped him with for the event. I tell him about my day, and he keeps working and tolerates me for about twenty minutes before he grabs me and pulls me into his chest, causing my knees to buckle.
It’s an effective way to shut me up.
He points to the path and I laugh. “I’m going, I’m going. But maybe grab me like that again soon.”
By the time I get back to the shed, it’s time to put Rue’s food in the oven like he said. Cipher and Valli come in not long after, so I shower and smile when I come back out. Cipher is at his workbench, and Valli is cross-legged on the rug with paperwork spread out around her, hair up in a messy bun, pen in her teeth. I stand back and stare; this is what home feels like.
“What’s that face for?” I ask Valli.
