Alice In Kavaland: Chapter 9
- Henry Livingston
- Feb 9
- 9 min read
Updated: Feb 18
SOMETHING BORROWED, SOMETHING MISSED
Three Weeks Later
In the dead of night, a converted UPS van pulls into a cemetery on the outskirts of the city. After a few minutes of riding through the maze in the dark, the driver feels a bit confused about his whereabouts and questions, “where is it again?”
“Just past that big statue that looks like Madonna,” another responds.
A woman’s voice corrects his obvious mistake, “that is the Virgin Mary, Red.”
“How would I know that?”
“She is in robes,” the driver spouts quickly.
Red, or Red Canary, Furgil to his friends, squints his eyes at the ornate tombstone, “well, it isn’t my fault that in the dark she doesn’t look like Jesus’ momma.”
The two look at him in uncertainly.
Without looking back at them, he sticks to his story, “I’m just saying.”
Lightning, striking in the distance, hints at a storm heading their way, with the chance of ruining their perfect night for their task at hand.
“Maybe we should call and ask to reschedule. I don’t feel comfortable doing this on this kind of night,” Furgil offers as an option to the other two.
“It’ll be fine if we just stick to the plan,” Picachew, the only woman in this van of thieves says without hesitation. She opens the door of the vehicle to exit, “unless you boys left your balls at home.”
Thunder rolls behind another lightning strike in the distance, “that one was close,” the driver says ignoring Picachew’s dig at his courage, “we need to do this before it rains.”
Picachew and Furgil simultaneously respond with counters to his words.
Furgil opens, “why would you say that? You jinxed us. Now it is going to rain.”
Followed by, “choose better words,” Picachew adds, shaking her head.
“What,” Pit says openly in jest, “Oh, come on guys, it will not rain because I said that.”
“Now it is definitely going to rain. Keep your eyes open for anything weird, Pit,” Picachew says as she closes the door.
“And the cops,” Furgil adds quickly.
“Watch for weird stuff and the cops, got it.”
Furgil and Picachew gather their tools and make their way to the target plot.
Lightning strikes and fills the heavens above them. Its brilliance lights up the area of the cemetery they are in. An angelic statue is lit up in a way that feels judgmental as the shadows dance uniquely across its face. The two of them are startled and begin rethinking the question Furgil asked moments earlier.
They find the grave. Here Lies a Beautiful Mother and Sister Gone Too Soon. Sophia Rose Tandy 1964 to 1993.
Picachew finds her spade shovel first and maps out where to dig as Furgil grabs his shovel to assist. Soon they begin digging. Furgil laughs.
“What’s so funny?”
“Pit said it was going to rain.”
Picachew stops digging, “why would you say it too, Furgil?”
He stops digging, “there is no way God would do that to us.”
“Oh no, Furgil, God would never punish us for digging up a woman buried in a cemetery that has been dead for over thirty years,” Picachew says sarcastically.
There is a brief pause before Furgil begins to dig again, “now you’re just saying things to hurt my feelings,” he pauses again, “but…, just for the sake of things, maybe we should say a prayer or something before doing this.”
“We have already started digging her up, Furgil, and I think it might be too late for a prayer right now. Plus, it may take too long trying to think of nice things to say. How about we give Mrs. Tandy a moment of silence since we really don’t know anything about her?”
Furgil nods, “I’m pickin’ up what you’re puttin’ down. Let’s do a moment of silence for her.”
They put their shovels down, offer a moment of silence for Sophia Tandy and afterwards, they go back to shoveling.
Another hour passes and they are about 5 feet down into the grave. The storm in the distance stayed on the other side of town and the lightning strikes seem to be getting further away. This time Picachew laughs.”
“What’s so funny,” Furgil questions.
“I guess you guys were right. Looks like no rain tonight.”
Furgil stops shoveling, “dude, why would you say it too?”
“Just keep digging. It’s not going to rain tonight.”
As if waiting for the cue to begin, like a wave of instant karma, rain falls immediately from the sky. The downpour begins to quickly turn their empty hole into a pool of muddy water, “see what you did,” Furgil screams trying not to fall in the dirt quickly turning into mud.
“Shut up and dig faster,” Picachew yells back.
They struggle to stay ahead of the mud, visibility is reduced to almost nothing, and good traction in their mud hole is not working with them.
Suddenly, the wind causes their light rig to collapse, plunging the area back into darkness. Still, they dig blindly letting their eyes adjust as best as they can, until Furgil’s shovel finally hits something solid, “it’s the casket,” he yells feeling around in the foot and a half of standing water.
As the water continues to fall in buckets, he gives Picachew a boost to get out of the hole before they lose to the mud sliding back into the grave. Once her footing is secure, she revives the light rig and passes him the hook ensemble to attach to the coffin. He uses the cables to pull himself up and out as well, “I’ll get Pit,” Furgil shouts to his barely visible comrade in the heavy rainstorm, “the van should fit between those two pillars.”
“Okay,” Picachew calls in return.”
Moments later the van reverses into the area. The rain continues to fall heavily with no end in sight. The storm, mixed with lightning and thunder, turns this night into an extremely difficult task.
They attach the cables to the winch on the van and hoist the coffin out of its resting place. All three comrades act quickly to get it into the van as fast as possible. Drenched and struggling to get a good grip on the casket to lift it up into the van, they give the casket a final push. It slides into the van, and they rush to close the doors, then get inside for a breather. Exhausted, soaked, and beaten, they let out a sigh of relief and prepare for the rain to stop. One minute later, the rain… stops, “sometimes, I hate Florida,” Pit speaks frustrated, wiping his face with his sleeve.
“Okay, now we were instructed to only remove the hand with the tattoo on it,” Picachew says still catching her breath.
They open the rear doors and lift the head panel of the casket. On the woman’s left hand is a tattoo of Alice from Alice in Wonderland standing in a classic pose. Furgil lifts a pair of large, pruning shears, “let’s make this quick, so we can fill this hole back up and get the hell out of here.”
They all agree, but just as he is about to cut off the body’s hand, lightning strikes a nearby transformer. The explosion is intensified by the very loud thunderous roll following the strike. They all gasp loudly, including the tattoo and although her gasp was unheard by the trio, the tattoo reacts to the sudden noise. It looks like it is shivering and curled up like a baby in the fetus position.
The three stare in disbelief, but Pit questions what they are looking at, “wasn’t that tattoo just standing up?”
The others nod with widened eyes.
“Just cut it off, so we can get out of here as soon as possible,” Picachew whispers.
Furgil hesitates but eventually cuts it off and puts it into a freezer bag, then finally into a small, Styrofoam cooler.
They close the casket and start quietly prepping to get out of the vehicle and complete their task, “so, we’re not gonna talk about that,” Pit questions to break the silence.
The other two, shake their heads, “nope,” they say without looking at him. Pit stops, “she was standing up, right,” he pauses waiting for a different answer from the crew, “Ah, forget it. Well, at least the rain stopped.”
Lightning flashes overhead and the rain returns intensified. Picachew and Furgil glare at Pit through the sheets of rain. The transformer sparks, plunging the neighborhood into darkness; only their portable light rig provides illumination for the rest of the night.
The precipitation pounds on everything in the cemetery leaving nothing dry. They know they need to complete the job and reluctantly begin to place the casket back into its original plot. The condition worsens and they push on through the night to finish.
By dawn the rain finally stopped. The sun peeks through the morning clouds like a child looking for presents on Christmas morning; so very happy to see the people on the planet below. All three of crewmembers are covered from head to toe in mud as they rest on anything they can sit on. Exhausted beyond all belief, they slowly get up and enter their vehicle.
“Furgil,” Pit opens before starting the van.
“Hmmph…,” Furgil responds, barely buckling his seat belt.
“Next time you say, can I help you dig up a grave, remember this night.”
“Ditto,” Picachew adds.
Furgil finally clicks his seat belt, “heard.”
Pit starts the van and they leave.
Three Weeks Earlier
Alice finishes a phone call and is not happy about the results of the call. For about a week she has tried to have her mother’s body exhumed and at every turn she is denied. She has tried everything but lying and nothing seems to work.
“It has been three days since Callisto called me using Dream Magic. So, how am I supposed to help her if I cannot get my mother exhumed?”
Ellie looks up from talking with Nala, “sorry, was that question for me?”
“No, it was for the pricks on the phone.”
“Are you still on the phone?”
“No.”
“How are you talking to them if they are not on the phone anymore?”
“Ellie, I am not…, ah, forget it.”
“Okay, but can I ask you a question?”
“You mean another one? Sure.”
“A long time ago you mentioned that you could buy anything with money. Can you buy someone to do it for you instead of getting those pricks on the phone to give you, their blessing?”
“Beg forgiveness versus ask permission? Ellie, that is perfect,” Alice shouts with glee.
“Hey,” Nala looks at Ellie in disbelief, “that was my idea.”
“Key word in that sentence is was. Don’t take it personally, I will eventually tell her that it was your idea but let me have it for a few hours.”
Nala is reluctant but agrees.
Alice begins looking through her phone for those willing to do anything for the right amount of pocket change. Before long she finds a name that she remembers from her early kava drinking days. She calls it and he answers after the second ring, “hey, Red Canary. This is Alice. Yes, it has been a long time. Me? I’m good. You? Nice…, that is good to hear. Listen, I was wondering if you guys still do odd jobs for cash? Great, I need something done fast, without question and discreetly. Can I count on you to get it done? Awesome. I will text you the details for the meet-up, then hand you the details for the job I need done. Great…, talk to you soon.”
Ellie smiles, “good to go?”
“Yep. Thanks for the idea…, Nala.”
“Hey,” Ellie opens surprised at not getting credit for the idea.
Alice smiles back at Ellie, “heard him tell you he said it.”
Nala laughs.
Present Day
Furgil, Picachew and Pit sit in a karaoke bar awaiting Alice’s arrival. She is uncharacteristically late, but Furgil has wasted no time in starting the festivities and opens with a song. He chooses an EDM song without lyrics and just starts dancing.
Pit shakes his head and tries to assist his colleague, “you do know that karaoke is for singing songs with words, right?”
“I wouldn’t waste your energy on trying to convince him, he can do this for hours,” Picachew says trying to talk louder than the music in the small room.
Alice enters the room and Pit takes the opportunity to pause the music.
“Hey,” Furgil adds slightly agitated, then sees Alice and instantly forgives the interruption.
“Apologies for being behind schedule. I went to the karaoke bar in text I sent you, Furgil, in Orange Park.”
“My bad,” Furgil says after taking a moment to think about what Alice was talking about, “I thought you meant Austin’s.”
Picachew laughs, “really? We drove twenty-five minutes more to get here. What do you have going on in that head of yours?”
“It’s nonsense mostly, but I hide the good stuff in the corners,” he says sarcastically toward Picachew, then dances without music over to Alice for a hug.
Hugs go around for the group of old friends and Ellie whispers, “what’s with the eclipses this time? Oops, can they hear me?”
“No, and sorry. They are all old friends of mine, Ellie,” Alice thinks to answer her curiously perturbed tattoo.
“Of course they're your friends. Are you going to do it on the way out too?”
“Yep.”
Ellie rolls her eyes and exhales in frustration, “figures.”
Picachew puts the cooler on the table in the center of the room.
Alice smiles and looks inside the Styrofoam container to see Callisto on her mother’s severed hand in a Ziploc freezer bag, “classic.”
Callie waves. Alice nods.
Alice opens her phone and calls a number. The three-man crew each receive alerts to their phones, “thank you,” Alice says sincerely, “please make sure to give Old Man Blue his cut for being off that night. I think he deserves more than just an all expenses paid trip to the Bahamas.”
Picachew perks up, “do we all get that?”
“I did it for him because he hasn’t seen his family in over ten years. Plus, the muddy mess you left that entire area in, he had to clean up too.”
“Understood. Still, not a no.”
“Alice shakes her head, “fine, I’ll arrange it. Now, let’s sing some karaoke and get this party started.”
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