by David Kempf
Seth heard it now. It was a man’s voice.
Seth shined the light in front of him again and saw an old man who was sick or had been in some kind of an accident.
“Are you all right?” Seth asked.
“Well….I will be,” said the old man.
Seth felt uneasy. He could not believe this was happening. This was his childhood bridge. Now there was a sick old man inside of it.
“What happened?” Seth asked.
“I was in my home. Then the next thing I knew I was here. I was here and I was helpless,” the old man answered.
“Helpless?”
“Yes. I didn’t think anyone was going to come….”
“Well, I’m here now,” Seth reassured him.
“OOahhh…..” the old man moaned.
“What’s wrong?” Seth asked uneasily.
“I’m dying,” the old man said.
Once again Seth could not believe any of this was real. It had to be some kind of strange dream. The old man did not look mortally wounded. He looked like he’d had a fall or was in a minor accident. He did not appear to be dying.
“My name is Mr. Leeds,” the old man said.
“Hello…my name is….” Seth began.
“Seth Young is your name.”
“Wait. How did you know…?” Seth asked, startled.
“There is little time. Take this necklace off my neck. It belongs to you now.”
“Please! Keep your necklace, Mr. Leeds.”
“No! Take it off me, Seth,” Mr. Leeds insisted.
Seth took the plain, gold chain necklace from the old man. At the very bottom of the necklace were two black horns. They were perhaps the same size as a human thumb. Seth thought that these must have been the horns that cast the reflection on the wall.
“You’re staring at the horns. That’s good. These are very special, Seth. These horns have been in my family for generations.”
“What kind of animal horns are they?” Seth asked.
“They’re not from an animal,” said Mr. Leeds.
“What are they from?”
“Have you ever heard of the Jersey Devil?”
Seth laughed. He couldn’t help himself.
“These are the horns from the Jersey Devil?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Leeds.
It occurred to Seth that when he was laughing, he noticed something. The horns actually felt quite real.
“There isn’t much time. My great grandfather killed one these devils. He cut off its horns and kept them. There is great power in them. You can make one wish before you die. You can wish for anything,” said Mr. Leeds.
“What did you wish for?”
“I wished that the next owner of the horns would be a good man. You stopped to help me. That makes you a good man.”
“No. I walked in the bridge because I was curious. I had no idea that there would be someone else inside of it,” Seth explained.
“Three other men heard my cries this evening. They did not come in the bridge. They were too afraid to help someone in need.”
“All right,” Seth said. “How do I make my wishes?”
“You make one wish. Once it’s made, that’s it. The power of these creatures is that they contain one wish per monster.”
“Okay…”
“Shine your light on my wrist,” the old man instructed.
Seth did as he was told and saw that the wrist was bandaged but had obviously been cut very deeply.
“You must soak the horns in your own blood. You need a small bowl full of blood. The Jersey Devil’s horns will suck the blood into themselves. Then you can make your wish!”
“I need to get you to a hospital.”
“Ahhh…”
“Mr. Leeds?”
“It’s time now. My wish included dying in my own bed. Seth, you have a lifetime to make your wish. Seth…Seth………..”
Then there was silence.
“Mr. Leeds?”
Seth shined the light all around the inside of the bridge but he was alone. There was no sign or indication that someone else was ever here. That is except for the necklace that he was wearing. There were no words for what had just happened to him.
That memory of Mr. Leeds always stayed with Seth. He remembered that he had looked in the obituaries all those years ago and had found a Mr. Leeds who passed away. The man died of old age in his bed at home. There wasn’t one shred of proof of their fateful meeting, of their encounter in the bridge.
Whenever Seth thought about what had transpired that night, he thought himself lucky. Despite the fact that he never had children, he and his wife always had a good marriage. They were both still alive. Seth had reached the age of eighty a few weeks past. He thought a lot about Mr. Leeds, who must have been around the same age when he passed. Mr. Leeds was teleported from the bridge to his deathbed. The man had only one wish and he made it at the end of his life.
He could have wished for anything. That’s what was so mind-boggling about the whole thing. Mr. Leeds wished that the horns would be passed on to a good man. He said that you get one wish before you die. Did that mean right before the actual moment of death? Could that have meant any wish one could want? Did that mean one wish anytime after receiving the horn necklace?
Seth did not want to think too much about it. Mr. Leeds never said the wishes had to be perfectly worded. Seth was familiar with the stories of wishes gone badly, in which, typically, things were made much worse than before the wish was made. This was because of the monsters who loved to trick humanity. Seth wasn’t sure if the horn necklace was a blessing or a curse. There was no evidence that these devil creatures were like leprechauns, witches or the jinn.
Seth never showed his wife the necklace, even after all these years. He loved her but he did not trust some people in her family. She had a few relatives in jail for robbery. Imagine if one of them were to use the necklace to make a wish. Would a convicted felon wish to start his life all over again to get a clean slate? Could someone wish to be the sole dictator of the world? Unlimited power, wealth, fame, beauty and anything else one could want. All because of a magical pair of horns from a creature most people considered less likely to exist than Bigfoot. Seth remembered from his reading that these devil creatures were supposed to have brought good fortune to many people.
Seth felt like fortune had already smiled upon him throughout his whole life. He was not born into a life of poverty or war. His health was good enough for him to have lived for eight decades. He had a happy marriage. In their respective careers, Seth and his wife both helped people. She was a teacher and he was a social worker. Seth thought it was a nice career choice. It didn’t pay much, but he’d had the opportunity to give something back. Now they were both retired. They were very sociable and traveled with friends extensively. It was one thing to be a world traveler and another to possess a necklace that could give you the world.
They had a good life, Seth and his wife. Seth and his wife appreciated every day they had together. Seth appreciated every day that he had on Earth. He had always loved life. Even at his age, he loved a special night like this. It was his favorite holiday. Seth told his wife that she wouldn’t need to lift a finger. He heard the doorbell.
“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get it,” Seth said as he moved toward the door and opened it.
Standing there was the young boy from next door, wearing a skeleton costume. His mother stood next to him.
“Billy, what do you say?”
“Trick or Treat!”
Seth gave the child the last three pieces of candy from the bowl.
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, son. Have a Happy Halloween.”
As he closed the door, Seth realized that he didn’t feel so well. He locked the door and turned out the porch light.
He wasn’t having a heart attack or a stroke, but he came to a stunning but obvious conclusion. He was an old man now. Mr. Leeds made a final wish to die in his own bed. Seth
imagined that it was more than likely a painless death.
Seth went into the bathroom with the bowl in his shaking hands. He reached for his shaving razor. He slit his wrist without even thinking of pain or consequences. The heavy flow of blood spilled over into the bowl. Seth felt lightheaded and nauseous. He had never seen so much of his own blood before. It was a particularly terrifying sight at his age.
“Honey, are you okay?” his wife asked from outside the bathroom.
“Yes! Give me a few minutes, dear. I’ll be out soon.”
Seth removed the horns from his pocket. They had been locked and hidden in a safe for the better part of forty years. Yesterday, he took them out of the bank because he knew that tonight was the night it was going to happen. Tonight was the night he was finally going to make his once in a lifetime wish.
The devil’s horns soaked up the blood in no time at all. It was amazing how quick the blood was devoured by the creature’s horns. He now knew it was time to make his wish. He could wish for anything in the world. Seth knew he could make a wish that was completely good. He could also make a wish that was completely evil. He could use the power of his wish to be the most evil man who ever walked the earth. At the same time, he could be one of the greatest forces of good ever known in mankind’s turbulent history.
Seth was a good man but he was still just a man. Mankind could be either good or bad. The one thing you could say about human beings is that they always thought of themselves first. Seth was no exception. He always believed that the wish would come true. He knew someday he would be making it. Tonight was his time and he made a wish. The wish that he knew was going to come true. Like the majority of people in the world, he had faith but was still very selfish. The wish came straight from his heart’s most secret desire.
“All right, honey, you’re scaring me! I’m coming in!”
There was no old man in the bathroom when Seth’s wife opened the door. She began to panic. Did he go out the window? He couldn’t have simply vanished in thin air. Could he?
The panic was overwhelming. She was about to scream but then she heard the doorbell. Who was it? She hoped it was Seth so she could end her panic.
It was only another child when she answered the door. He was dressed up as some kind of superhero.
“We turned the porch light off, dear. That means we’re out of candy.”
“Natalie, I love you!” the child said.
“How dare you, and how do you know my name?”
“Darling, it’s me! I’m eight years old now, and you only have a year to take care of our affairs. I hope you always trusted me, my love. I made the wish and it included you. My wish has always been to live life with you all over again.”
“Young man, I’m going to have to speak with your parents. I can’t find my husband right now. I don’t have time for this.”
Seth laughed. The thoughts of the future were going back and forth in his head. Actually, Natalie, you do have time, he thought. I have time to convince you that this is real. You have time to get our affairs in order. I hope you think that a year is enough time. Natalie, you’re going to be eight years old, too, a year from now. Mr. Leeds and the creature gave us a remarkable gift. It’s the gift of another lifetime together.
Chapter 21
Grave Envy
By Christopher Wisdom
The dead make great listeners. You can say anything you like to them. They won’t talk back. Not most of the time, anyway. Whenever you begin to speak in front of someone’s tombstone, all you hear is you. It’s going to be a real one-sided conversation.
Now, everyone knows that visiting a graveyard is a depressing experience. Sometimes you look at the epitaphs to see how long people lived. Sometimes they lived a long, full life. Other times the graves show the brief life of someone who perished in what should have been their prime. You can often see the freshly dug dirt in front of a grave, usually of someone who died recently.
My brother, Steve, had died two months earlier. I had been trying to forget about the accident that took his life. His epitaph reads Steven Quinn 1970-1989. You can’t get a much closer glimpse of your own mortality than seeing your older brother’s name on a tombstone.
Steve and I had been taking classes together at the local community college for the past year. One of the professors we both really liked was Winston Salva. He taught classes on death and dying. He also taught introduction to biological science. Those are typical classes. What set him apart from the rest was his elective class on paranormal research, a strange class which was very popular with the students. With most of the college’s faculty, Professor Salva had the reputation of being odd.
Death is part of life. It’s something we have to deal with every day. My parents were still in a state of deep depression over my brother’s death. At that time, they were too much in shock and denial to even really begin grieving.
“Do a good job in school, Erik, study hard and be somebody,” Dad said.
It doesn’t matter whether you’re a big success or a complete loser. Everyone ultimately ends up in the same place – in the grave. Still, I wanted to make my parents happy and be the first one in my family to obtain a college education.
One day I was walking home from class and Professor Salva approached me.
“Erik, could I have a moment of your time?”
I didn’t know what he wanted and I wasn’t really in the mood to be bothered that day. He seemed like he was going to be persistent.
“Please come to my office. It’s very important.”
We walked to the professor’s office and sat down. I couldn’t help but notice what a strange office he had. The small library was filled with books on the occult and classic horror fiction. The emphasis of his collection was books on life after death and how to contact the dead.
“We can meet again someday to talk about my collection of rare books, Erik. I wanted to speak to you about something far more important today,” the professor said.
This man was very strange, I kept thinking. It was obvious to me why he was the talk of this small college. He seemed more interested in the dead than the living. I finally summoned up the courage to ask what this meeting was about.
“Erik, I know your brother just passed away. That was a tragedy. He was a nice young man. When will you be visiting his grave again?”
I was angry at such a personal question. What business was that of his?
“The next time you go, I would like you to put these on.”
I thought that Salva could not possibly be more strange or rude. I was wrong. He showed me two small earplugs. Was this man insane?
“I know this must all sound crazy to you. When you visit your brother, put these in your ears and it will help with the grieving process. Several of my students have tried these. I invented these earplugs. Two students lost their father last year. They both thanked me after using these plugs. Another student lost her fiancé; she said she could not have coped without them.”
At that point, I just wanted to leave the office and get away from this man. I graciously took his earplugs and left school for the day.
The next day I did visit Steve’s grave. I did not understand the reasons for this, but I had brought Salva’s ear plugs with me. I noticed that when I put them in my ears, they felt heavier than the average ear plugs do. When I arrived at the graveyard, I noticed a strange tingling sensation in my ears. It was almost as if tiny electric shocks were filling my ears. I wondered just how this was supposed to help me grieve for my brother. Would I be going to psychics for a séance next? At least Salva’s stupid ear plugs were free. I now stood directly in front of my brother’s tombstone.
Steven Quinn 1970-1989.
I told my brother I loved him and I missed him. Then I was about to pull the plugs out of my ears when I thought I heard something….faint….a voice? This couldn’t be happening.
I was wrong.
It was happening.
“I miss you too….Thanks fo
r not forgetting. Me…….”
Was I losing my mind? Could this really be his voice? No. Steve is dead. I tried to listen again. I needed to know if this was real. Then came a second voice and it was undeniable. It came from the grave next to his.
“No one ever visits my grave!”
Then two more voices coming from behind me said the exact same thing. The voices were much louder this time.
“No one ever visits my grave!”
I pulled out the earplugs as fast as I could. Then I ran away from the graveyard. When I was finally far enough away, I put the earplugs back in. I heard many different voices….all speaking at once. They all said the same thing. Over and over again they said the same five words…over and over and over again….
“No one ever visits my grave! No one ever visits my grave! No one ever visits my grave!”
PART 3
WISDOM & WISHES
“Be careful what you wish for, you might just receive it.”
-Anonymous
Chapter 22
“What is truth?” asked David. He was smiling and playing with a single gold coin he took from his den of thieves downstairs.
“Pontius Pilate?” Christopher asked.
“Yes.”
“Good quote, David.”
“Thank you.”
“I am very interested in why you chose that particular quote,” Christopher said.
“No real profound reason, I’m afraid. Sorry, just sounds good.”
“Okay.”
“Christopher, what I just said isn’t entirely true. Sorry. I can think of some good reasons we should be discussing truth here.”
“Is this about telling the truth in one’s fiction or about revealing the truth of what you really are?”
“Both,” said David.
“Good. Sounds interesting, David.”
“Oh my lad, it is.”
Christopher knew that it was getting very late. They had told his tales almost the entire night and it was nearly dawn now. He knew that this little training exercise wasn’t going to last too much longer.”
