Spine Chillers: Paranormal Stories

by Grant Caldwell

  “But you did. And in your heart, you know I am right. You wanted to believe no one was in that rusted Oldsmobile. The one you knocked over the small stone bridge. You were in a rush to meet a girl; a rush to meet me.”

  “How could you know this?” Fear spread across his face. “I—I didn’t hurt anybody. I just bumped into an old car. I never murdered anyone.”

  “Dillon, you didn’t murder anyone, but you killed an elderly man. He died when you hit his car and sent him into the water. When you failed to stop! When you failed to call the police! He could have been saved.”

  “No, this cannot be real.”

  “It is true. Search your soul,” she gently responded.

  The physical pain began to leave my body again, but it was replaced with an emotional pain. My heart felt heavy. I felt the urge to cry.

  “No, no one was in that car—” Dillon insisted. His eyes narrowed then went wide.

  “You remember now. That shadow. You told yourself that it was just the old bridge light playing tricks on you, but your heart has always known. Dillon, the old man had stopped to smell flowers along the river’s edge before he returned from the store with bags of candy, a pumpkin, and a costume for his grandson. When you hit that car, you took a young boy’s only family. His parents had died the year before in a plane crash. His grandfather was all he had. ” She looked in my direction, fixating on the wall behind me.

  “Oh my God, someone was in that car.”

  “Yes, an old man who could not escape from the car; a gentle soul taking a few moments to remember the flowers his wife adored.”

  My heart began to beat faster. I knew that old man. I felt connected to him as well. Something wasn’t right. What was going on here?Why was I privy to this conversation?

  “Dillon, the night we fell in love was the night a little boy lost his family. He was only ten years old. Scared and alone, he waited all night for his grandpa to return. His life dramatically changed after that night. When the authorities found him, he was wide-eyed and scared. The loving young boy became angry. He couldn’t figure out why his grandfather left him. What had he done? He never knew his grandfather had died.” She looked intensely at Dillon.

  Dillon looked in my direction, staring at a picture of an arched bridge over a giant lake, and mouthed the words: “I am so sorry.”

  My eyes began to water. I felt a deep sense of mourning. The room began to spin. My stomach churned, and my face felt flush. I frantically glanced around the bar and noticed pictures of various bridges everywhere. In fact, the paintings decorated every wall of the establishment.

  “You see, Dillon. The gray-eyed boy became an upset young man. He was angry at the world. Transferring from foster home to foster home, he felt unwanted. He needed to numb the pain. He tried pills, drugs, and cigarettes. The only thing that worked was whiskey.”

  Dillon continued to stare off in my direction, continuing to mouth the words: “I am so sorry.” I couldn’t understand why I felt grief. Surprisingly, I felt more grief for the broken man in front of me. He looked so sincere and sad. I mouthed the only words that came to my mind, “I forgive you.” He didn’t seem to notice.

  “Whiskey was the boy’s crutch.” Amber shared.

  Here words caught my attention. I loved Whiskey. Jack—

  “A bottle of Jack Daniels lay on the passenger’s floor of the semi-tractor outside a Motel 6 in Arcata. The Mack truck had traces of yellow and black paint on its front bumper. They found the young man wearing a backwards baseball cap, torn blue jeans, and a blue sweatshirt, lying face down in his vomit. He had drowned.

  As the words tumbled out of her mouth, my lungs tightened. I struggled to breathe. My head became hazy. I looked down and noticed a large hole in my blue jeans. I clutched at my chest, my fingers squeezing at a giant mazeletter in the center of my chest.What is happening to me?

  “Dillon, don’t you see? We weren’t just hit by a drunk-driver. We were hit by the grandson of the gentleman you killed many years ago. ” Amber explained.

  “That’s impossible. No, I cannot believe it. ” Dillon shook his head back and forth.

  Amber removed her glove and placed her hand on his face. “Feel my skin. Do you understand?”

  Dillon froze.

  “Face reality. Face the truth,” she pleaded. “I need you to forgive him.” Amber’s beautiful eyes stared directly into mine.Was she talking to me?

  “I will. I do,” he cried. “Please forgive me too, Amber.” He slowly stood up. “I need to go into my office. I will be right back. ” Dillon slowly made his way to the office, leaning heavily on his cane.

  “You do forgive him, don’t you?” Amber asked.

  Realizing she was talking to me, I responded. “What do you mean?”

  She pulled a tattered compact mirror from her torn purse. Flipping it open, my eyes caught my reflection. A man with unique gray eyes, a tiger hat and a dark goatee filled the mirror. The gravity of the situation fell on me. “I am the truck driver,” I whispered.

  “Yes, you are him.”

  “I am the little boy.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Dillon is the man who killed my grandfather.”

  “Yes.”

  “I am the drunk driver; the man who maimed Dillon and hurt you.” As I said these words, I clutched my chest, gasping for air.

  “Yes.”

  “Please forgive me. I am so sorry.” Tears filled my eyes.

  “I forgive you, but can you forgive Dillon?” She smiled. Her words melted all my pain away.

  “Yes. I believe that he is sincere. ” As I spoke the words, she rose from the table and called me to follow.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To the white light,” she smiled and grabbed my hand.

  “We are going to heaven?” My eyes widened. “I am—am dead. I’m dead.”

  “Antonio, you are going to heaven. That is what is important,” she reassured me.

  As I followed her to the front door, the patrons passed right through me. When we reached the door, I pushed against it. Instead of opening, Amber and I simply passed through it.

  My grandfather stood on the pavers with his arms open wide.

  “Granpapa,” I shouted, “Is that really you?”

  “Yes, my beloved. It’s me. Come with me to the light,” he beckoned.

  “Yes, I will.” I smiled. As I made my way to him, I felt the pain of Dillon. I clenched my eyes shut, feeling his agony. When I opened them, I was hovering over the small table I had been sitting at. I watched in awe as Dillon stood holding a Detroit Tigers baseball cap.

  His attention shifted to the newspaper on the hardwood table. The lead story was entitled: “Red Headed Woman’s Body Recovered after Six Years.” I watched as his eyes scanned the text:

  Amber Washington’s remains were recovered yesterday night from Lagoon Bay. She had been missing for six years. A local diver searching for coins made the gruesome discovery. He mentioned the skeletal remains were still clinging to a gold crucifix; mysteriously, the necklace disappeared…. .”

  Dillon reached down and grabbed a beautiful gold crucifix with a brilliant emerald in the center of the cross and a sticky note on its base:

  Dillon, I will always love you. Antonio, the grandson and driver, forgives you and is glad that you have forgiven him. Remember everything you do has a butterfly effect. Great or terrible things can happen when two butterflies collide.

  All my love,

  Amber

  P. S. See you on the other side.

  THE END

  THE GOLD WATCH

  “Dad, thanks for a great evening,” my wife said, hugging my father tight.

  “Now Todd, you two should stay here tonight. We have the pullout couch in the family room,” my father spoke softly.

  “Dad, we don’t want to impose. Besides, we already have our room reserved. ” I winked at my wife.

  “Is that so? I have an easy fix. Cancel it,”
my dad said flatly.

  “Don’t be silly. We’ll see you tomorrow. Love you,” my wife sweetly responded, settling herself into the passenger seat of our SUV.

  “Todd, did you know you had a low tire?” My over-protective father stroked his heavy gray beard. “There is a gas station a few miles down the road. Go straight down this road until you see the stop sign. Make sure you go right.”

  “Love you, Dad.” I bear-hugged him, kissed his bald-spot and patted him on the back.

  “Love you too, son.” I thought I saw a small tear trickle down his rosy check. Maybe we should stay. Dad seems needy.

  “Todd, we need to get on the road,” Kelli pressed. Her white-gloved hand knocked against the driver’s window.

  Realizing we weren’t going to stay, my Dad smirked and said, “Okay, son. You two get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I got in the SUV and shook off the cold.

  “Dad, get in the house. You’ll catch your death,” I bellowed through the window.

  He nodded and turned slowly. My heart sank. “Maybe we should stay,” I said, looking at my beautiful wife.

  “Todd, I love your father, but it has been months since we had some alone time. Dad will be fine. We’ll bring him a present tomorrow.”

  “Great idea! Dad loves watches. He has been collecting them since he was a kid.”

  “Then it’s settled. We will get Dad a watch tomorrow. ” Kelli winked.

  Before I could ask, Kelli softly whispered, “And yes, darling, the kids are fine.” Unbuckling her seat belt, she scooted closer to me and kissed me on the cheek.

  I smiled. “Now, where is that gas station?”

  “Let’s just get back to the hotel room,” Kelli’s dark eyes sparkled as she snuggled against my chest.

  “Yes Ma’am,” I laughed, pressing hard on the accelerator.

  “Take a left at the stop sign,” Kelli directed.

  “Didn’t my dad say to go right?” I inquired.

  “Remember, we are skipping the gas station.” Kelly kissed my check.

  Funny, I could have sworn we were supposed to make a right to get to the hotel.

  “Turn left in 50 feet,” a modulated voice directed from our navigator.

  “See. Even the navigator knows that I am right—I mean left,” Kelly joked.

  I kissed her forehead, made the turn, and stepped on the gas. Within a few minutes, I slowed down. I could barely see so Kelli sat up to help me.

  “This is strange,” she said with a tinge of fear in her voice. “We’re engulfed in a winter storm.”

  “Yeah, this is weird. Dad checked the weather channel before we left. He told me the winter storm would hit in another two days.”

  “Thank God we have the navigator to guide us,” Kelli responded. No sooner had she spoken the words when the navigator screen went blank.

  “Oh, shoot! You have to be kidding me. ” I frowned at our misfortune.

  The wind started howling and the sky poured snow. I slowed the car to a crawl. Kelli shook as she asked, “How does a storm appear out of nowhere?”

  “I don’t—” Before I could finish my sentence, a large bus barreled down on us. The driver was clearly a madman; he rapidly flashed his lights, wildly honked his horn, and sped past us. Missing us by inches, our SUV shook from the force of the passing vehicle.

  “What the heck?” Kelli shouted.

  “Oh my God! Kelli, are you okay?” I gasped. Startled by the near collision, I pulled over to the shoulder of the road. I could feel my hands shaking and hear my rapid breathing.

  Swallowing hard, Kelli whispered, “Something is not right. I am scared. Why is a bus driving so fast in this kind of weather?”

  “Guess he doesn’t want to be late,” I smartly remarked. We both started laughing.

  “My husband—always cracking jokes—no matter how bad it gets.” She grinned.

  “That’s me,” I said with a half-hearted laugh, lowering my head to say a silent prayer.

  “I say we stay here until the weather clears,” Kelli suggested.

  The wind’s howl grew quiet and the snow halted. “Alright then, let’s get going again,” I chirped.

  “What the h—,” Kelli whispered.

  “Let’s just get to that hotel,” I interrupted.

  As I turned back onto the road, the wind and snow returned. Kelli’s dark eyes were wide with fear. I didn’t want her to know I was afraid, so I decided to play tough.

  We drove another four miles then the snow started back up.We should have arrived at the hotel by now.

  “I think we need to turn around. I am sure we went the wrong way,” I said, turning to her with a meek smile.

  “Yeah, ok.”

  When I did a quick U-turn on the two-lane highway, the storm moved to create a solid wall of snow on our side of the street. Ironically, our original path was now clear. “Kelli, are you seeing this?”

  “How is this possible? I have never seen anything like this before,” she said, her voice shaken.

  “It appears as if the storm is trying to guide us somewhere,” I said, half joking.

  I did another U-turn, and wouldn’t you know it, a whitewall of snow engulfed us again. This did not make sense.What was happening? We were at a crossroad. Do we turn around and go back to Dad’s or do we press on toward the hotel? Could we find the hotel? Could we find the gas station?

  Considering the weather, Kelli and I decided to forgo the hotel and return to Dad’s house. While I drove, Kelli picked up her cell to let Dad know we were on our way back. “No cell service,” Kelli lamented. “Let’s just press on back to Dad’s house. He won’t care.”

  As we slowly made our way along the highway, I started to noticesomething.What in the heck is that? Aremy eyes playing a trick on me? About that time, Kelli spoke up, “Todd, do you see what I see?”

  The snow started to swirl into recognizable shapes. It was unmistakable. Yes, we were seeing the image of my mom in the swirling snow. She pointed towards dad’s house. “How can this be?” I asked Kelli. She shook her head and we both agreed our eyes were playing tricks on us.

  We trudged on, just wanting to get to the house and out of the elements. As I drove, my mind kept wandering to the image of my mom in the swirling snow. I sure missed her. Mom had had a stroke and passed a few years ago. Her passing was so tough on dad. He hadn’t been the same since.

  No sooner had I shook my head to remove the image of my mom than another image appeared in the snow. This time I could clearly see mom pointing to the other lane on the road. “Kelli, do you see her again?” I timidly asked. Kelli just nodded with her mouth hanging open and her eyes as wide as saucers. I slowed down almost to a stop; the snowy image still pointing to the other lane.

  “Hmmm. Kelli, maybe I should play along.” I pushed lightly on the accelerator and moved into the other lane. Kelli looked frightened, but she remained silent. As we slowly drove on the wrong side of the highway, we both looked toward the lane we should have been traveling in and caught a glimpse of the bus that had sped past us. It was empty, sitting smack-dab in the middle of the highway.

  Looking in my rear-view mirror, I noticed scribblingsacross the front window of the bus: LLEW SI TI.What does that say? I pondered.Is it some strange language?

  I explained to Kelli what I saw in my rear-view mirror. Neither of us could make sense of it. As the swirling snow guided us back into the original lane, I bellowed, “What is going on?”

  Kelli muttered, “If we continued in that lane, we would have crashed into the bus. There is no way we would have seen it in time to stop.” For the next few minutes, we drove in silence. The gravity of the situation hit us. Not knowing what to say or how to explain what just happened.

  The snow began to pick up speed and started swirling uncontrollably. This time, I began focusing on it to see what images would appear. She appeared again; it was definitely mom.

  “Kelli?” I yelled.

  “Yes, Todd?”

  “Do you se
e her again?”

  “I don’t want to answer that, Todd.”

  This time I could see the image of my mom, smiling. She reached out her arms to wrap us in a huge hug. She bent down to look at something. I slowed the car to a stop. My curiosity got the best of me, so I shrugged and said, “Igotta see what she is looking at.”

  I jumped out of the Pathfinder and quickly moved to the front of the car.I could have sworn she pointed right here. I knelt down in the snow. The cold penetrated through my pants as I gently brushed the fresh powder away. My hand hit something hard. A gold shine momentarily blinded me. Looking away, I grabbed the shiny object and headed back to my car.