As I walked back home in the pouring rain from another night at the cemetery I felt a tingling sensation run up my spine. It seemed as though something had run it’s long, cold, scaly fingers across my back. Before I could speed up I felt the rain stop.

Peering up I spotted the underside of an old black umbrella. I turned to look at the Good Samaritan who had gave up their umbrella for me to not freeze in the downpour.

I spotted no one.

Turning quickly to continue on my way I see the man. He was tall, standing at a gargantuan stature to me. He was dressed in all black and his eyes, a pale shade of blue, bulged from his head. I almost thought he looked familiar. That’s when, with a luckily timed gust, his coat collar lifted and I saw the blue butterfly pin.

I knew I recognized the man. I had just buried him. He was the lasted of the deaths I have had to cover for.

Why he was standing in front of me I had no idea.

“Thank you for being so kind to me, even after death. You knew me not and yet you still took the time to clean my headstone and place a flower at it. This is the least I could have done. I have just one question though, why?” The man asked, his voice gravely, yet calming and secure.

A bit stunned I responded quickly, answering “it is my job to keep the condition of the grave grounds, it is only responsible that I keep them to such high standards.

“Well I and all the others here want to thank you. You will never have to worry about any of the annoying inconveniences of life again.” The man said, spreading his long arms wide.

I turned to look at about 100 other ghosts, or spirits, of whatever you want to call them. All were people I had recently worked on. Each gave me their thanks in different ways. Some helped Inc. the physical, some in the mental, and others helped me emotionally.