Shining Moon Rises

by Stephy Smith

  Eagle Glenn came into view. Shining Moon handed her the reins to the team and jumped from the moving wagon. Sarah immediately felt empty inside. "I hope you are right."

  "We will talk more upon your return, Sweet Sarah." Shining Moon's horse had followed the wagon. He made a hand signal and it trotted up to him. He jumped to the bareback of his horse and rode away. Sarah sighed. The warmth of his nearness was fading into the cool breeze as Eagle Glenn came into sight.

  She stopped the team in front of the bank. Leonard Jones met her as she walked in. The top of his head reflected the light drifting in the window. What little hair that grew around his ears was white as new fallen snow. Not only was he her banker, but he also doubled as the lawyer. He had been at her mother's funeral the day before and had Mrs. Burgess's estate almost settled by the time Sarah had arrived. She handed him the list.

  "There really isn't anything of value on the list. If it's all right, I would like to let my sisters and brother take what they want and be done with it." Sarah bit her lip while she waited for his answer.

  "That will be fine. Is there anything else I can help you with today?" His green eyes scanned over the paper she had handed him.

  "No. That should do it. Thank you Mr. Jones." The banker-lawyer handed her the three envelopes for her brother and sisters. Sarah walked to the door and let herself out.

  Sarah headed toward the mercantile a few doors down from the bank. Mr. Jones's son, Hollis stood behind the counter. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Eastin. How may I help you?"

  "I have milk and eggs to trade." Sarah handed him her list and he gathered the items for her. The long-legged young man carried her sack to the wagon and retrieved her milk and eggs.

  "Thank you. I expect you will be back soon with more? Have a good day Mrs. Eastin." Hollis ran back inside the store before Sarah could answer.

  After she took care of her mother's business and traded her milk and eggs, she then turned the team toward home a little after noon. Shining Moon would be waiting a few miles out of town. She never took long to finish her dealings. Her heart jumped with delight as she thought of his warm body sitting next to her.

  The sun played hide-and-seek behind the building clouds. A slight breeze whistled in the grass. The air cooled but hadn't turned blistering cold. None of that mattered. She would finally be out from under her siblings' scrutiny and it felt good.

  Once again, Shining Moon joined her in the wagon. This time they didn't talk; just enjoying the comfortable silence of knowing he was there for her was enough for Sarah. Why can't life always be like this? The most handsome man in Kansas, sitting beside me. And without a word between us, I know I'm safe. A terrible tightness gripped in her chest when he exited the buckboard. Her house was in view, but she knew there was no possibility that her brother and sisters would see her with him.

  They should be happy with everything complete, and they could return to their own lives. Relief washed over her weary soul as she made her way across the muddy plains. She knew she wouldn't hear from her siblings for years, if ever, after they received their share. This thought alone brought a small amount of peace to her life.

  The trip from town became a blur as she bounced across the rough-hewn prairie. The need to do her evening chores before a confrontation with her siblings could brew caused her to urge the team into a quicker pace.

  Instinctively, she pulled the team to the front of her mother's house. Thuds and bumps came from within the walls of the tiny cabin. In an instant, she knew her brother and sisters were ravishing the belongings inside. She gritted her teeth and prayed. After giving them the envelopes that contained their money, they would leave and she could return to her cabin for some peace of mind.

  Entering her mother's house, the stench of alcohol greeted her at the door. Cruel laughter and an unfamiliar smell of smoke rolled in the air. Her mother's belongings scattered across the floor of the tiny cabin, as her three siblings claimed ownership to what they wanted and discarded the rest as junk.

  Sarah handed each one an envelope, and then turned and walked out without saying a word. If she opened her mouth, bullets would ensue, and someone was going to jail or die. She didn't need to be behind iron bars while grieving her loss.

  Thankful for the solitude, Sarah was happy to be away from the endless bickering next door. Letting out a sigh, she looked forward to the three leaving.

  Dark clouds had taken over the sky once again. The soft rain sprinkled the barren ground. The temperature dropped, and Sarah ran to the wagon as she remembered the items she brought from town.

  She wrapped her fingers around the flour sack containing her groceries and rushed from the wagon to the shelter of her home. In no time, she set them on the table and started putting them away. When she made her way back to the wagon to unhitch the team, she glanced to the hilltop where Shining Moon gave a hardy wave before disappearing over the opposite side. Hastily she headed to the barn to do her nightly chores.

  She ate her tasteless potato soup in complete and total silence. Then, peering out the tiny window, she watched her siblings load and prepared to leave for their own homes. It was late afternoon and the rain had stopped. Tilting her head up, she gave thanks it hadn't prolonged their stay or rained any longer than it had. Sarah sighed as her shoulders released the tightness that held her stiff and sore.

  There was no surprise when they didn't come to tell her good-bye. Carolyn's loud voice crept in the window as they pulled away, "Now that we're rid of the crazy old coot and that loathsome Sarah we can get out of here. We need to hurry to catch the train back to Fort Leavenworth."

  Liz and Will's evil laughter rang between the two cabins and barn as they left the area. Sarah clenched the material of her apron in her fist. Stomping her foot, she fought the desire to pull the shot gun from above the mantle. How could three people be so mean and cruel to the woman who brought them into this world? They hadn't been taught to be so disrespectful of the dead.

  Their mother and father had always been highly respected in the community. Sarah and her siblings were taught to treat everyone with respect. When they were teenagers, Carolyn introduced George Brown and his friend Harvey Johnson to the family, things had changed. Carolyn and Liz had become unruly. Will soon followed in their footsteps and joined the not so nice crowd.

  Sarah heard rumors of the group. They were some sort of evil coven that sacrificed any and everything within their power. She couldn't imagine acts being performed to cause pain and torment to another human being. Her mother had told her to ignore the talk and pray for the three rebels. Belonging to the group had taken an evil turn on them. A shiver ran down Sarah's spine.

  A strong tug to return to her mother's house to see the effects of her brother and sisters pulled at her heart. Washing her plate and fork, she dried and put them away, then walked next door. A calm, peaceful wisp of air wrapped around her tired, drained body in a comforting way. She lay upon her mother's bed sobbing until she fell into a deep sleep.

  Her dreams were disturbed with voices clear as she tossed and turned fitfully on the feather bed. Unable to open her eyes, something bore down on her chest, Sarah was aware her white flour sack blouse and long green skirt were soaked and stuck to her back and legs.

  Screaming out in terror, she jumped from the bed, and ran, blinded by tears to her own cabin. Confused and shivering as to what had taken place, she leaned against the door and tried to remember the dream that made her so uneasy.

  Sarah paced around the room. The vivid accounts of finding her mother's frail body relived in her mind. So many times they had discussed it; Sarah believed she was prepared. The dream frightened her as she remembered the day and compared it to the nightmare. The only difference was that her brother and sisters had filtered into her sleeping thoughts, bringing with them cackles and hurtful words.

  Chapter Three

  Screeches and wails echoed in her cabin. Sarah sat straight up in bed. Her heart pummeled her ribs. She glanced around and couldn't s
ee anything in the dark. A cold, denseness whizzed by her head. Shaking, she raised her hands to cover her ears.

  The horrid spirits lashed out at her. Thin, wiggling snake-like mist clamped onto her hair, yanking hard; the things pulled several strands loose from her braid. Other finger-like tendrils of the mist poked at her face and arms, with talon like claws, while more pinched her legs, leaving bruises and whelps upon her tender skin.

  Strange voices mixed with the chaos. Their words slurred, and she tried to make out what they were saying. There were too many noises drowning out anything she could understand. Where did they come from? How did they come to the cabin? Was there a way to reason with them? To help them move somewhere else? The questions escaped her mind as she struggled to free herself from the torture.

  Their maddening gropes tugged at her blankets and nightgown. The squeals sent repulsive shivers through her. She shimmied her way to the edge of the bed. Once on the floor, she attempted to crawl under the bed. One of the masses grabbed her legs. She kicked with all her might, trying to free herself from its cold clutches. Her assailant let out an eerie laugh as it pulled her across the floor.

  She dug her fingernails into the hard wood floor. Her fingertips burned as if she had stuck them into a blazing hot fire. The nails pulled back from her fingers at the force of trying to catch hold of anything she could wrap her grip around. Marks from her efforts trailed across the floor in droplets of crimson.

  Her nightgown bunched under her stomach as her body moved across the floor. Bone-chilling cold wrapped around her legs as if bound by an invisible rope. She cried out in pain as one of the tormenters pressed her toes towards the tops of her feet. They were merciless in their tirade, and she had no way out, but she wouldn't give them satisfaction of relenting to their devious nature.

  Sarah renewed her fight. Twisting and turning, the spirit tightened its grip around her legs. She no longer held in her screams. Her cries intensified and mixed with the heinous noises above. Shudders racked her body with a fierceness she had never experienced before. Swinging her arms in the blackness, she hoped she would make contact with one of the evil, earthbound beings.

  Thunderous thumps echoed in her ears as her heart pulsed rapidly. Tears streamed down her raw cheeks, blinding her vision at times as she tried to glance around for something to protect herself. What could she use to fend off the monsters attacking her? Her pleas went unheard from the noise of the spirits.

  The room was icy cold. More shrieks added to the muddle, and she wasn't sure if they came from her or from something else. She tried to stand, but failed as another unwanted visitor pressed down on her chest, pinning her to the floor. Her breath stilled in her lungs. The wretched fingers of the unknown twisted in her hair.

  The aches in her arms and legs began to take its toll on her limbs. She would pull in her last breath before she would admit defeat to the creatures. Her life was hanging in the balance of here and the other world, or whatever world they were trying to pull her into. Sarah refused to let her mind go there.

  All concept of time was lost to her as her mind reeled in the insanity. Her arms and legs grew weaker. She continued to fight until the wee hours of the morning when the ghosts disappeared as quickly as they had appeared. A nasty stench of rotten flesh and dried blood lingered in the air.

  Dragging herself to the wall, she leaned up against it. Tears ran down her cheeks, sobs escaped between her labored breaths. She glanced at her ripped nightgown. Under the shreds of material, she rubbed the stinging scratches left on her skin by her assailants.

  Her bruised and sore body cried out in pain as she made her way to the kitchen. Tangled wads of hair fell across her face. She swiped at her raw cheeks and grimaced. The tips of her fingers burned from trying to stop herself from being drug across the floor. Her shoulders weighed down as if a boulder had been shoved upon them.

  Try as she might, she couldn't cheer herself up during the day. She walked through the day as if she were a puppet on a string. Her chores became harder to accomplish with her diminishing state of mind. The only times she felt truly safe was her daily trips up the hill to the cemetery. The evil spirits tugged at her mind, always pulling her back to her own cabin.

  The thought of midnight rolling around stood the hairs on the back of her neck. The days turned into short burst of sunlight, while the nights turned into long, grueling, cold darkness.

  ****

  It had been two weeks since her mother died. Somehow awful things had happened. She was so distraught that she wasn't sure how she had made it up the hill to water the rose bushes and pay her respect to her deceased love ones. Now it all seemed as if it had been a blur. She ran her hand down her face and glanced at the sky.

  The full moon hid behind the gray clouds. Sarah bent over her cast iron caldron and murmured. "Creator of darkness, creator of light. Bring back happiness in my life. Rid this evil from my home, give me joy wherever I roam." She raised her arms in the air and glanced skyward.

  Several bolts of lightning flashed across the sky. The area became lit with uncanny brilliance. A loud clap of thunder echoed on the cold April night. Shivers ran the length of her body. Weakness in her legs threatened to drop her to her knees. None of the spells she had tried to cast before had worked. As she glared at the display overhead, she couldn't help but hope this one would. The storm played in the sky, skimming across the plains until it hit the small farm Sarah owned.

  Sarah leaned on the porch rails. She clenched her hair in her fist. If only Shining Moon was here to help. He would know what to do.

  Don't be foolish, Sarah. You know he would think you had gone around the bend of insanity. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. The comfort of his strong arms to hold her and his massive shoulders to cry on would help the night seem easier.

  Besides, Shining Moon wouldn't be out in weather like this. The tall, stalwart Indian was much too important to his tribe. He had befriended her, and she was thankful for that kindness. While her mother was still alive, he had made daily visits to check on them. Sarah had opened up her heart to him in friendship, unsure if she was ready for more than that. As time passed, she realized she cared for the man and depended on him more with the passage of time.

  She glanced toward the hill where he appeared daily. It was void of his silhouette. Her heart plummeted to the depths of her queasy stomach. Even when she tried to occupy her mind with thoughts of Shining Moon, the beastly burdens of midnight hauntings invaded the memories.

  Her body shook, and tears streamed down her raw cheeks. She grabbed her pillow and blankets, and then walked to the barn. The sun would come up soon. Sarah's mind swirled as she fought the battle of sleeplessness. "Just a few hours of sleep, that's all I ask, just a few hours," she whispered into the dark as she tried to close her eyes. The thunder roared and she covered her ears and clenched her eyes shut. Nothing she tried lessened the brutality of the storm.

  She couldn't work up enough courage to re-enter her cabin. The ghosts had taken over. Yet every night she prayed they would stop. She couldn't bear to think they were winning the crazy battle they had started. The storm was easier to face than the spirits in her cabin.

  Sarah's mind drifted so often she wasn't sure she could rely on her own thoughts. Were they real or were they conjured by the ghosts? Things got out of hand quicker than she thought possible. She shook her head and clenched her eyes. The things visiting her nightly since her siblings left seemed to be on a mission. The mission was to drive her crazy.

  Too many thoughts of the spirits roamed around freely in her mind. She trusted nothing or no one with her inner-most secrets for fear she would be locked away. Yet the marks on her back should prove she couldn't have put them there herself. Not many people believed ghosts appeared out of thin air, and the spirits haunting her had done just that. The people who believed in ghouls thought witches brought them on. A proper person would never participate in such rituals.

  Hail pummeled what was left of the negl
ected roof, sending down slivers of wood and ice pellets. Sarah hunkered down deeper into the hay, the blanket clenched in her white-knuckled fist. She hugged her pillow to her chest.

  A wretched shudder ran the length of her body, as the mournful wind howled through the wooden slats of the old barn walls. It reminded her of the wild banshees her mother told her about when Sarah was a small child.

  The storm raged on. Boards flew off the sides of the dark barn, and Sarah jumped at every thud, as they slammed against outside walls. Hay swirled in the air, sparkling in the glow of lightning strikes like little golden needles. Dust overpowered her lungs and hung so thick in the air that Sarah could barely see past her arms when the bolts flashed. The thunder roaring overhead reminded her of trains, with vibrations jarring her bones until they ached. Wet, scared, cold, and alone, Sarah stood to find a drier spot to rest.

  "Move over, Miss Betsy." She wandered aimlessly passed the jersey milk cow. As Miss Betsy swatted her tail, Sarah arched her back at the sting. It didn't matter to her because all she could think about was sleep.

  In the corner of Miss Betsy's stall, Sarah lowered herself into a small pile of dry hay, and settled down for a few hours of peace. Silent tears slid down her cheeks, soaking the feather pillow under her head, until she cried herself to sleep.

  Slivers of sunshine peeked through the cracks in the barn door. Sarah squinted into the brightness and then wiped her eyes. She tried hard to put a smile on her face, but found it difficult with the overwhelming nightmares still vivid in her mind. The first few days after the ghosts started their assaults, she wondered if they were real or not.

  It had been weeks now, and she knew they were real. New claw marks appeared on her body along with fresh bruises, mixing with the old ones. She knew she couldn't give in to the spirits, but she wondered how long she could fight against them by herself. Nothing she had tried worked to rid her cabin of the nightly visits. She couldn't remember prayers her mother had used for healings. However, she wasn't convinced any of those would work to solve her problem. It was far bigger than praying over someone to mend an illness. She needed something strong and quick to conquer her enemies.