Grave Instinct

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Working quietly, Daryl Thomas Cahil had dug into the cemetery earth for several hours while the windswept night played about the headstone he had located.

AMIEE LEE PHEIFFER

BELOVED DAUGHTER 1983-1990

He again sank the spade into the dirt, finally gaining a response-a greeting between metal and concrete. At last, he'd found the little crypt. A concrete vault concealing the coffin, a slab-stone top over all.

“ All right… good…” he congratulated himself from the bottom of the grave he'd spent the early-morning hours reopening. Glancing at his dirtied watch, he read 4:02 A.M. Less than an hour and the cemetery superintendent would be driving up to unlatch the rusted old gates. Still, it was enough time to gain the prize buried here, which he had come to claim as his.

Daryl had to dig out earth alongside the vault to create space enough to force the concrete lid aside, just enough to get at the coffin. He worked to clear the lid of remaining soil as a light sprinkle began to add to his problems. He needn't remove the lid entirely, only partially, enough to climb in and open the coffin lid.

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