Twelve beef hamburgers sizzled on the hot plate. Lena stared at them until it was time for the flip. The flip was her favourite part of this stupid Summer job. She hated the smell. She hated the noise. She hated the contact with other people. She hated her co-workers. She hated how little she earned for working her ass off thirty two hours a week. But most of all, she hated herself. This self loathing had nothing to do with her job at the burger joint; it had everything to do with why she was there.
Last Summer she had landed the best job possible: Babysitting her twelve year old neighbour kid Joey. His parents were extremely hands on, so they felt it necessary for the boy to be looked after at his age. Lena didn’t complain; the pay was excellent and the fifteen year old got a lot of reading done at whichever location Joey and his comrades decided to hang out that particular day. Most days they ended up at the skate park, but that day Joey thought it would be cool if the gang sneaked into the local cemetery to spray paint some of the old gravestones.
She should have stopped them. It was, after all, in complete violation with her moral code to desecrate a final resting place. Her excuse was that she was excited to start reading The Count of Monte Cristo, so she didn’t really care what the boys were up to, as long as she could gulp up the pages in peace – and the graveyard seemed an excellent place for that. She tagged along and sat under a tree near the entrance, completely engrossed in 19th century France. After a few hours most of the gang left and they told her Joey and Mehmet were still out there, busy prettying up a tomb. She smiled at them and went back to the book.
She had no idea how much time had passed before an uneasy feeling made her look up.
“Joey?” No answer. “Mehmet?” Lena was met with complete silence.
The boys had vanished without a trace. For weeks the town had been in a frenzy. Witnesses were interrogated by the police on a daily basis – to no avail. After the investigation went cold with the February frost, the police decided that the friends must have simply run away.
The key witness, Mrs. Bradford, had stated that she visited her late husband when she noticed the two best friends playing. She had not paid much attention to them and they were still ‘going at it’ when she left.
The story had always seemed a bit off to Lena. She knew Joey. He would not let an opportunity go by to at least try to annoy the grieving widow. Mehmet was a little shy, but his instinct to please usually got him into more trouble than the instigator. She could not just walk up to Mrs. Bradford and accuse her of course. She didn’t even know what to accuse the woman of. So she had decided to put herself into a position in which she could observe Mrs. Bradford. Find out what kind of a woman she really was.
After two months of working for the key witness, Lena had discovered zilch. No, that was actually not true. She had discovered that Mrs. Bradford enjoyed the fries and the milkshakes in her establishment, but she never showed any craving for the burgers. Which was odd, Lena thought, for a woman who had a business selling them.
Maybe it was time for a confrontation. She put a batch of fresh burgers on the hot plate and watched them cook. Maybe she should ask Mrs. Bradford directly about that day. It wasn’t too farfetched to believe she could solve the case. After all, she had read every book Sir Conan Doyle had written, featuring the famous eccentric consultant who lived in 221b Baker Street.
It was decided.
When the last costumer had left, and the cleaning was done, Lena stayed back until she and Mrs. Bradford were the only souls left in the restaurant. The widow sat at a booth near the counter, like every night, matching the receipts to the register. Lena started to sneak up to her, then changed her mind. With the air of a girl without a care in the world, she pulled out a cup and pressed the ice cream button on the sundae machine. That done, she strolled over with her strawberry covered cup of deliciousness and stood beside her boss. Outwardly chilled, inwardly trembling like a leaf in the wind. Mrs. Bradford spoke, her eyes focussed at the numbers in front of her.
“What is it, Lena? I’m a little busy.”
Lena answered without giving herself a chance to cower away.
“I’d like to talk to you about what happened to Joey and Mehmet last Summer,” she said.
Mrs. Bradford’s hand froze. She looked up, her eyes dark and turned to slits.
“Why?”
As if realising her reaction was suspicious, her eyes went soft and she put up a smile. “The boys are probably in the big city, living the good life. What do you care?”
“I know you had something to do with their disappearance,” Lena said. For frat sake, she thought, why is my voice shaking!
Mrs. Bradford’s smile turned sneaky and Lena caught a glistening in her eye before the older lady turned her attention back to the task in front of her.
“Oh yeah?” Her finger traced the amount on the receipt.
“What did you do to them,” Lena demanded to know.
The older woman lay down the pen and sat back. She studied Lena for a moment before answering.
“How does it taste?”
Confused, Lena looked at her half finished Sundae. Mrs. Bradford let out an impatient snort.
“Guilt.”
Lena opened her mouth but words failed her.
“I bet it is all consuming. Burning in your stomach. Bile up in your oesophagus, leaving a bitter taste that you just can’t get rid of, no matter how long you brush your teeth. I bet it is nice.”
She patted the seat beside her, inviting Lena to sit down. Completely stunned, Lena did.
“I haven’t felt anything in many years. Feelings are a waste of time, you know. An indulgence for the weak. There are moments when I do miss them though. Moments like my wedding, or my father’s funeral. Or this moment, right now.”
Mrs. Bradford wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Lena was mesmerized in the moment; in the back of her mind she wondered if this was the effect Kaa had on his victims too. She watched silently as her boss got up and packed the administration away.
“Are you coming?” Mrs. Bradford got her car key out of her pocket.
“Where?” Lena asked, even though she already knew. Despite the sinking pit in her stomach, she was going to see this through.
“To the grave yard. I’m going to show you exactly what happened to those little vandals.”
The empty sundae cup was left abandoned on the table; a solitary admonisher to the morning crew, which found its fate in the garbage.
Discarded.
Written as a prompt suggestion from Michelle Courtens.
Theme & location: Children holiday job in the Burger King // Murder at a cemetary in Tilburg
