Donna immediately rejected the game. It was morbid, for one. There was also the possibility that something could go terribly wrong. What if she panicked underground, and died before Stan reached her?
Stan insisted, "Really, Donna, it won't be that bad. Here... I want to show you something. Lay down on the blanket.” This was the blanket that the two had been sitting on in the forest during their late night picnic.
Reluctantly, Donna lay down on the blanket. She was a bit uneasy with whatever mysterious thing Stan had in mind.
Stan took hold of the edge of the blanket. "Now just close your eyes.... and put your hand on your chest."
Donna immediately answered, "Oh, Stan, I don't want to do that. Nor do I want to play your morbid game!"
“Just try it!” insisted Stan. “Can’t you just be open-minded and give it a try?”
Reluctantly, Donna closed her eyes and put her hands on her chest as-if she were lying in a coffin.
When Stan saw her finally laying in the right position, he explained, "Now all I'm going to do is fold this blanket over you. It's going to be over your face. And I want you to imagine that you are covered up in a box.”
Kneeling on the ground, Stan folded the blanket over Donna's entire body, including her face. Then he announced, "See, you're covered up. Okay...? You can still breathe in there. You've got this blanket over your face, but there is still air in there, right?”
Donna pointed, "Yes, but there are holes in the blanket that allow air to get through.”
Stan answered, "Yes, I know. But why don't we do this. Why don't we try taking it to progressive steps? Next time we can put you in a cardboard box for about twenty minutes or so. And then we take the lid off and see that everything is okay."
"Oh, Stan, that's a silly idea" argued Donna. “Why is this so important to you?”
Stan explained, "Donna, I really want to do this with you because it will be a symbolic act that will put your life behind you so that you can start a new life with me. This will be a symbolic act which involves burying you in the Earth that's near the tree here. We know this tree has a spirit in it. We know that this tree is responsible for bringing us together. You agree with that, don't you?"
Donna nodded her head, "Yes..." By then she had the blanket pulled away from her face.
"So can we do that next time we are together?" nearly begged Stan. "Could we bring a cardboard box here to the woods; a box that is big enough for you to get inside of? I could probably get one at the gas station. We receive a lot of supplies throughout the week that are shipped in large boxes. I could just say I need one to pack something up at home. I will, instead, bring it to the woods so that next time we are together, we can resume our exercise. You will get into the box for about twenty minutes and then come out. Does that sound okay with you?”
Donna agreed. “Okay, fine, we will do that. But I don't really understand how going in a box for 20 minutes is going to make it the same as being buried in a wooden coffin underground."
Trust me reassured Stan. We will do these progressive steps so that when the time comes for you to be finally buried in the ground, you will be so used to it that you will realize that you could be in there for an hour or two. And you'll be relaxed and everything will be okay. Can you just trust me?”
Donna paused for a few seconds. She sighed and said, "Okay, fine. I will trust you. Under one condition."
“What's that?” asked Stan, covering his sudden annoyance with Donna attempting to negotiate.
“You have to promise me that at any time I feel uncomfortable and say stop, you will listen to me. Whether you're putting the cover on or filling the hole with dirt, it doesn’t matter. You have to stop when I say.”
It seemed fair to Stan. "Okay, I agree.”
This agreement took place on a Wednesday night. Their next date was to be on that Friday of that week.
***
The following morning, Stan's father inquired Stan as to where he was going at night. This was while the two sat at the breakfast table before heading off to work. Father asked, "You know, I notice you've been going out late at night and then you come home at the wee hours of the morning. Where have you been going? More important, is this affecting your job? How are you working this?"
Stan reassured his father, "Oh no everything is fine with my job. I'm not tired or anything. As for where I am going; I really haven't said anything about it, but I have a girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?" Father repeated. "How come you never said anything about this to us before?"
"Well, I'm kind of keeping it a secret?" answered Stan.
“Secret?” probed Father. “Why are you keeping it a secret? Is she married?”
"No, she isn't married.” reassured Stan. “But she has a boyfriend."
"And he doesn’t know about it?"
Stan explained, "'Well, I'm kind of ashamed to admit, but her boyfriend is away at war. We're not too serious about this relationship at this point. But I really like her, and I like being around her. We just go out at night and hang out."
Father felt that maybe his young adult son could use some guidance. He began by asking an insightful question, "Well Stan, what are you going to do when her boyfriend comes back from war? And did she make an obligation to him to be faithful while he is away? Might you be presenting her with a conflict of interest?”
"She did." answered Stan. “She did promise him to be faithful. But Dad; as time goes on, it seems like she's forgetting about him more and more. It seems like she's becoming more and more interested in me. If I didn't know any better, I think we are falling in love.”
Father halfheartedly chuckled, "In love? I thought you said it wasn’t too serious a moment ago. And I wouldn’t be too quick to let your feelings get the best of you. Plenty could change once her boyfriend comes. Those old feelings could suddenly return. But if you think the two of you might be in love, you might want to lock this deal by marrying her. I bet you never considered that.” Father hoped to use the suggestion as a way to re-guide Stan away from what appeared to be misleading feelings. Stan was so young, and this was surely “puppy love” for him. And from what Father could determine, the relationship wouldn’t have been so serious as to consider marriage.
But Stan surprised Father with his answer. "I guess... Sometimes I think about it—marriage. I just don't know if I'd be able to go about it properly. I mean you make a good point. Why wouldn't I want to tie the knot with her and get married? But how do I go about doing this?
Well if Stan were such a man to make a serious life decision like this, maybe it was time for him to find a new job that could earn him more money. Father nodded his head in acknowledgement, "Well Stan, you've been working at this gas station and it's time for you to have a more substantial income... Have more of a man's job so to speak. I have a friend who is a one of those higher-up managers at an auto parts manufacturing plant. I think maybe I can get you a job there. I can talk to him; he can pull some strings, and maybe get you on the assembly line making some really good money. It might be piece work, but it usually ends up paying more than at a job like—say—the gas station. Then you could have a better income, and you'd be in a better position to ask her father in marriage. That is the proper way to go about it. You do know that, don't you?”
Stan nodded in affirmation.
Still in disbelief that his son was truly ready to take on a manlier role in life, Father continued with his test, "So what do you say I talk to my friend and see if he has any openings there; see if he can get you a job making more money. Then you could ask this girl’s father for her hand in marriage, and eventually propose to her. She might have to think about it because she did make an obligation to be faithful to this young man who is away at war. And while we’re on the subject, you were supposed to be there as well—away at war. But you didn't make it in boot camp, remember?
Stan looked down at the table, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. "I understand all of that. But, Dad, I really love
this girl and feel that we are meant to be."
Father answered, "Very well then. I will talk to my friend, and we'll see if can get things going for you. So what's her name?"
"Donna..." answered Stan.
"Is she pretty?"
"Oh yes, very pretty! You know Lilly Munster from the TV show, The Munsters?"
Father laughed, "Get out of here! Are you serious?"
"Yes she kind of looks like her, but much younger."
***
Just as Stan promised, he carried—actually dragged –a large cardboard box out into the woods beforehand, during daylight. No one saw him dragging the box out there. There was no problem bringing it to the old tree in the magickal valley of Donna’s spirit mother.
Late Friday night of that week, he and Donna ventured out to where the cardboard box waited for them. By that time, Stan had a good idea as to where he was going to dig Donna's grave. The box sat just like it would as if it were some feet below with Donna inside. Once the two reached it, Stan asked, "So are you ready? This should be pretty easy."
Donna shrugged her shoulders, "Sure..." She opened up the lid and looked inside. The large cardboard box was about five feet long and three feet deep. There was plenty of room for Donna to get inside. And it was just as Stan's morbid fantasy would dictate; the box was shaped like a coffin.
Donna lay down, inside.
"Very good." congratulated Stan. Then he directed; "Now I want you to close your eyes and rest your folded hands on your chest like you are dead.”
Initially, Donna wasn't comfortable with pretending to be dead inside of a box. But she did as Stan directed.
Stan put something on her chest; right on top of her folded hands.
Donna opened her eyes and looked down towards the area. It was a bouquet of flowers.
“Oh Stan!” exclaimed Donna. “I don't know if I like this game. You make it seem so real, like I were dead.
“Oh, but Donna…” insisted Stan. “We have to play it this way. We have to make it seem like you are really dead. You see, this life that you currently have with Fredrick, and the control that your parents have over you has to end. The Donna who has those obligations put on her has to die. That is why we are acting out you being dead. So just relax, close your eyes and pretend like you are dead. I have flowers put on you and I'm going to close the lid.
Donna said nothing. She simply closed her eyes and lay still while listening as Stan put the lid over the box. Of course she could breathe inside of the box. And she listened outside for Stan’s voice.
“We are going to do this for twenty minutes.” reminded Stan. “At the end of the twenty minutes, I'll open the lid up and we will see how you are. And remember, you are not really buried. So if you start to panic or can't breathe, just sit up in the box. Take the lid off. It's light.”
There was no answer from inside the box.
“Donna?” called out Stan.
Still no answer.
In a sudden panic, Stan lifted the lid. "Donna, are you okay?"
Donna opened her eyes, "Yes Stan, I'm being dead, remember?"
"Okay, you scared me for a second."
Donna smiled, "Are you sure you still want to do this?"
"Of course I still want to this. I just wasn't expecting you to suddenly be able to play dead so well.” Stan closed the lid, looked at his watch and then sat on the ground with his back against the cardboard box. He sat there for five minutes... ten minutes... It was really peaceful out there in the woods. Crickets were chirping. A couple of owls hooted. At one point there was some rustling off in the distance; probably a raccoon or a fox. At the end of the twenty minutes, he opened the lid and looked at Donna who lay still with eyes closed and folded hands on chest with flowers laid across. Stan didn't say anything. He simply kissed her lips.
Donna opened her eyes and playfully announced, "I'm back from the dead."
It was a quite a thrilling moments for Stan. What made it so enjoyable was the fact that Donna seemed to know how to play the part well. She could lay there in the coffin like a real corpse. And when he kissed her sweet lips, Donna came back to life, just as in Stan’s most morbid fantasies.
***
Donna wasn't able to get out of the house for about a week after her cardboard box adventure with Stan. On late Wednesday night of the following week, Stan went to her house like he usually did, but didn't see Donna standing on the side of the building. He concluded that there was a problem. Maybe Donna's parents were onto her. In fear of this speculation, Stan didn't dare go to her bedroom window and knock.
It’s a good thing he didn’t! There actually was a problem that Wednesday night.
No, her parents weren’t onto her. Rather, Donna's father was having difficulty sleeping. He walked about the house and watched TV throughout the night. Donna felt it wouldn’t be a good idea to sneak out the window with Father up and about. And like mentioned before, Stan was never able to call Donna on the phone or come to her door to see how things were. The two would have to be patient and try again in a couple of nights.
Stan returned on Friday—exactly one week after the cardboard adventure. On this night, Donna stood at the side of her house, waiting for Stan to meet her. Stan confirmed from Donna that there was, in fact, a problem. He was okay with this, of course. And as Stan would soon inform Donna, this awkward and inconvenient phase of their relationship would soon end.
On the ride to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve, Stan excitedly explained to Donna about the job interview that he had at the auto parts manufacturing plant. Father followed through with his promise and landed an interview for his son. "It looks really good for me.” he described. “They seemed to like me, and my Dad knows the manager who is a higher-up. My Dad’s friend is pulling some strings, and he's going to get me hired. Donna, I'll be able to move out and get a place of my own. We will be able to live together. Maybe we could get married."
Donna was a bit uncomfortable with the sudden mention of moving in with Stan and getting married. "Oh, Stan; I wouldn’t rush into things so quickly. And I would prefer to have a proper Catholic wedding. My parents would expect it of me."
Stan argued, "But Donna, don’t you remember; the whole point of this act of your symbolic death is so that you can leave your life behind. You will no longer have an obligation to have a good and proper Catholic wedding. And anytime you are ready to live with me—I suggest you do that as soon as possible—the place will be ready for you.”
Donna remained silent. She wasn’t sure what gave Stan the notion that she would leave her family behind. As for a good and proper Catholic wedding, Donna really wanted this.
Stan sensed that Donna wasn’t fully receptive to the idea just yet. “Well if anything, at least I will have my own place. And we don't have to do it all at once. You don't have to hurry up and move in with me once I get my own place. You can start off by visiting me on a regular basis, and see if you like it.”
Stan pulled into the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. It was a beautiful night, early August. Long past curfew; any kids who would have been there necking had gone home for the evening. All alone, Stan and Donna exited the vehicle, proceeded to walk towards the main trail. They continued until reaching the place where they could deviate off the main trail, do some bush waking, and hike their way down the steep ravine to the magickal valley of Donna's spirit mother.
On this particular night, Stan had a surprise for Donna. Last time there was a cardboard box that waited for this. This time, Stan had assembled an actual wooden box. It was a makeshift, nothing perfect. It was made of plywood with some two by fours hammered together with nails. The box was really nothing spectacular, but it did the job. It was about the same size and shape of a coffin, and would ultimately be the wooden box that Donna would be buried in. Just like the cardboard box, the wooden version was large enough to accommodate her.
Stan and Donna held hands while walking up to it. Stan looked over and declared, "This is your coffin. Th
is is where you will be laid to rest when we finally put you in the ground. Do you want to try it out?"
Surprisingly, Donna didn’t hesitate. "Sure..."
Stan lifted the plywood lid off the box. Keep in mind that there wasn't anything fancy; the lid didn't include hinges. It was simply a sheet of plywood that was cut to fit over the top, to be nailed shut before burying Donna in the ground. As for nails; there hadn't been an agreement, just yet, as to whether or not he should nail the lid shut; or if Stan should leave the lid un-nailed so that he could get to Donna faster if in the event that something went wrong during the burial. But then Stan theorized that maybe it would be better to nail the wooden box shut to prevent any shifting during the burial which could potentially cause tons of Earth to crush Donna to death. A secure lid could save her life. Stan hadn't explained these things to Donna just yet. For now he simply wanted her to try out the coffin like in the previous cardboard box exercise.
"Are you ready?” Stan asked.
Donna said nothing; simply climbed into the box, lay down and closed her eyes with hands resting on her chest.
"Very good." congratulated Stan. You are getting good at this. And just like last time, I will lay a bouquet of flowers on your chest.” After doing so, he stood back and looked in the wooden box. Donna certainly appeared dead.
"Okay, I'm going to put the lid on." Stan announced. "This time we are going to increase the time to 45 minutes. Do you think you can handle being in the box for 45 minutes?"
There was no answer.
"Donna?"
Still no answer.
Stan checked Donna's face which was still warm. He placed his finger underneath her nose in which air could be felt; confirmation that she was still breathing. "Okay, you're just doing a really good job at playing dead. Being that you are not saying anything, I'm just going to assume that you will be okay staying in there for 45 minutes. And just like we agreed before, if there is a problem—feel like you are panicking or running out of air—simply push the lid off. It's light enough. It won't be a problem. This is all just training and conditioning for the real thing."
Stan laid the lid over the wooden box and looked at the hands on his watch. By then it was ten minutes after one o’clock in the morning. He would wait for 45 minutes.