“Kelli, you won’t believe this,” I said in disbelief. Kelli looked in my hand and sat speechless. A gold shiny object rested in my palm. I held it up, revealing a beautifully crafted gold watch.
The wind’s force rocked the car, causing me to refocus my attention. Looking out the windshield, I saw an image of my mother smiling. She gently waved and blew a kiss toward my SUV. I returned the hand gesture, mouthing, “I love you.” My mother’s image slowly disappeared. I turned to Kelli; tears streamed down her face.
Within a few minutes, we stopped at the intersection leading to my Dad’s house. As I turned the car, Kelli inspected the watch. I noticed a puzzled look on her face. “Todd?” she asked.
“Yes?” I responded.
“Umm, what did you say was written on the front of the bus?”
Concentrating on the bus’s image in my rear-view mirror, I answered. “It saidLLEW SI TI. Whatever that means.” Kelli looked intently at me and said, “Well, I think I may have that answer for you.” She turned the watch over to reveal an engraving on the back saying,IT IS WELL.
“No way!” I exclaimed.
As we turned onto dad’s road, the weather drastically changed. There was no snow, no speeding buses, or no images of mom. We pulled into dad’s driveway only to find a police car with lights flashing. I quickly put the car in park and sprinted to the front stoop. “Dad, are you okay?” I questioned.
“Son, are you ok? I’ve been so worried,” dad said with sheer terror in his voice.
“We’re fine,” I assured him. “The snow was bad, but we made it.”
“What snow? The snow isn’t coming until tomorrow night. I was referring to the fire at your hotel.”
“What?” I questioned.
At that point, the policeman interjected. “Yes, a three-alarm fire is ablaze at the hotel. We have reports of many casualties.”
Dad went on, “I was so worried when I couldn’t reach you on your cell, so I called the police.” Kelli had walked up beside me, took my hand and listened intently to the description given by dad and the officer.
“We never made it to the hotel. The snowstorm was so bad we decided to come back to your house since it was closer.”
Dad again insisted, “Son, the snow has NOT started yet. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
The officer called back to the station, “Yes, I need confirmation of any inclement weather between my location and the hotel fire.”
The voice on his radio came back loud and clear. “Negative on the weather. There is no inclement weather now.” Turning to face us, he grinned, shook our hands, and headed out to the chaos of the fire.
Dad, Kelli, and I headed into the house. Once inside, I looked at dad and said, “We have something for you. We hope you like it.” I reached out my hand and placed the shiny gold watch in his palm. The smile on dad’s face was priceless.
“I love it,” he said. He instinctively turned the watch over and revealed the inscription. Tears trickled down dad’s face. “How did you know?” he asked.
I studied my father as he shared, “This is what your mother and I used to tell each other when we dealt with difficult or unexplainable situations.” I smiled, silently hugging him.
We embraced him one more time, then Dad cradled the watch and headed to bed. “Good night, Dad,” we spoke in unison. After we heard his door close, we discussed our mysterious adventure.
“Kelli, can you explain this?” I asked.
“Absolutely not!” Kelli remarked with a chuckle. “We never know when angels guide us, huh?” she whispered.
I nodded. “I guess we are exactly where we should be.”
We snuggled on the couch, looking at old family photos and enjoying the heat of the fire. For a moment, I thought I saw my mother’s face, smiling in the fire. I smiled back and quietly thanked her for protecting me and my beautiful wife.
THE END
PICK AND TREAT
Old Man Jones was a tall, lanky fellow who was more nervous than a scaredy cat. He lived in a small town seventy miles from Flint, and worked on his mid-sized farm. He had a great imagination, believing that ghosts, goblins, witches, vampires and werewolves lived on the farm.
After visiting the library and learning about special pendants, Old Man Jones bought everything he could find. He donned himself with every amulet that rattled, clanked, or chimed. His paranoid condition caused him to paint his barn, cows, house, and even his chickens with specialhex signs to ward off the evil spirits.
He never left his house after the sun went down unless it was an emergency. The slightest noise or movement made him jump. The poor man lived in constant fear, believing a monster was waiting in the shadows to get him.
If a situation arose in which he was required to exit his home in the night, he would bring three flashlights with him; he never wanted to be without a light. And under no circumstances would he go down to his large pond; he believed all the monsters gathered there at night, waiting for animals or people to take a drink of water.
Old Man Jones was a loner. He didn’t like to be around other people because he didn’t know who to trust. He believed that demons, warlocks, and witches disguised themselves as humans during the day. If given the chance, these entities would invite you in their home and then feast on you.
Old Man Jones’s behavior made him an outcast to many in Hartland. Many townspeople referred him to as The Crazy Farmer or Ichabod Crane. Most people left him alone, but sometimes mischievous children would terrorize the farmer. For example, the Matthew brothers, Billy and Dennis, would sneak into his barn, take some hay bales and arrange them in odd patterns, convincing Old Man Jones the devil was leaving signs. Another group of boys would steal hair from a local dog groomer and place it all over the fences where his chickens roosted, making The Crazy Farmer think werewolves tried to get his chickens.
The worst of all the pranksters consisted of a brother and sister duo. They loved to hide behind trees and throw apples at the farmer when he was mending his fence. At night they would sneak over to his house, throw small stones at his windows and moan with ghastly sounds, watching the beam of his flashlight frantically dart from window to window.
“Mary, I think we need to scare Ichabod Crane the next few nights,” her brother said, rubbing his hands together.
“What do you have in mind, Devon?” Mary said, smiling broadly.
“Well, Halloween will be here in two days. Let’s put our heads together and come up with some scary ideas.”
“Okay,” Mary replied.
They went up to their tree house to hatch their secret plan. After a few hours, the two fourth graders came down with mischief on their minds. Their first prank would consist of broomsticks. A few weeks ago, while exploring, they had found an abandoned broom factory; there were still about twenty brooms left in the building.
They grabbed their blue wagon out of the garage and headed for the factory. They had discovered that it was adjacent to Ichabod’s farm, separated by a small patch of woods. They couldn’t believe their luck; there was even a trail that ran through the woods to his farmland.
Devon and Mary loaded the wagon with a myriad of brooms and headed for the farmer’s barn. They decided to place the brooms on the floor and make a pentagram; the two fourth graders didn’t know what it meant other than it was scary.
Pleased with their work, the siblings quickly jogged home with their wagon in tow. As they got closer to the house, their mother called out, “Devon, Mary, it’s suppertime. Time to get washed up.”
“Yes, Mother,” they both replied.
“Wow, that was a close one,” Devon whispered
“Too close,” Mary answered.
* * *
The next day the town was abuzz about Old Man Jones. Everyone was talking about the mysterious broomsticks on his barn floor. Apparently, he had found them last night. He had been pulling his tractor into the barn when he spotted the pentagram.
Rumor had it that he jump
ed off his tractor, jumped on his horse, and rode into town. He banged on his sister’s door; a sister he hadn’t visited in thirteen years. She took him in and called a pastor. He was frantic. Convinced the witches were coming for him at Halloween, he shook in fear for hours. The pastor invited him to the church to pray; old Ichabod was so scared he refused. Instead, the pastor came to him and they prayed for two hours, then Old Man Jones stayed the night with his sister.
His sister, being a practical woman, was not happy. She was convinced that it was a prank. She visited Sheriff Campbell, but the police officer laughed it off.
“Oh, Molly, you know your brother is an eccentric man. Have him say a few prayers, make him a nice meal, and he will be fine.”
“Sheriff Campbell, my brother may be different, but that doesn’t give people the right to scare him,” she scolded the pudgy lawman.
“Okay, okay. I will look into it,” he lied.
“I would expect so,” Molly angrily answered and left the police station.
News traveled fast in Hartland. All the teachers heard about the prank. Many thought it was funny; the superintendent did not. He had every teacher ask their students if they knew who had pulled the prank. When Devon and Mary’s teacher asked who had scared Old Man Jones, the two siblings were glad they hadn’t told anyone. Nobody said a word. Two minutes later, the final bell rang.
Devon and Mary didn’t say a word all the way home, only exchanging proud smiles between themselves. They did their homework, ate dinner, and retired to their bunk beds. After their parents tucked them in for the night, they decided to pull their last prank on Old Man Jones. Grabbing their backpacks, the duo of mischief quietly went out the kitchen door.
They snuck into Mr. Davis’s pumpkin patch, picking the largest pumpkin they could carry. Fortunately, for the siblings, Mr. Davis’s farm was across the street from Old Man Jones’s farm. They carried the pumpkin behind the Crazy Farmer’s large red barn.
“Devon, do you have the knife?” Mary said in hushed tones.
Her brother reached into his schoolbag and found his Swish Army knife. “It's right here,” he whispered.
“Give it to me. I will carve the face,” Mary said.
“Ok, I will go find some pebbles we can throw at his window,” Devon replied.
“Don’t forget to bring the steak with you for his dog, Rocky.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Devon answered. He searched around in his bag, frantically feeling for the zip-lock bag that they had snuck out of the fridge.
“It's in my backpack, stupid,” Mary retorted.
“I am not stupid.”
“Yes. You are.”
“No, I am not. If I was stupid, why do I always think of all the pranks,” Devon said, intent on proving his intelligence.
“Ok, ok. Just get the meat.”
Devon found the bag and walked down to the gravel driveway. Within moments, he heard barking and the pounding of large paws across gravel.
“Good boy, Rocky. Good boy,” he whispered, throwing the basset hound a large piece of cold steak. The dog grabbed the food and came closer for a belly rub; a ritual these two had performed many times.
With the dog satisfied and Mary’s carvings on the pumpkin complete, the brother and sister duo snuck into Old Man Jones’s house using Rocky’s doggy door; Mary was small enough to fit through it. She opened the door and let Devon in the house.
Once they were inside, they worked quickly. Devon grabbed a large candle from his bag and placed it inside the giant orange sphere. Mary pulled out a lighter and quickly lit the wick. Devon replaced the lid of the jack-o-lantern.
“Wow, that thing is scary,” Devon said.
“Yeah, it looks so real,” Mary replied.
A cold chill filled the room. “Let’s get out of here,” Mary mouthed.
“Good idea,” Devon answered.
The two pranksters quietly exited the back door, leaving it purposely cracked open. Rocky was asleep outside; he was happy to have his belly full.
Devon and Mary each took a handful of pebbles and threw them at Old Man Jones’s windows. They laughed as they watched his flashlight go in all kinds of crazy directions. They waited as they knew his routine. He always went down to his refrigerator and grabbed a few bottles of Holy water. He liked to sprinkle it on the inside of the windows that made noises.
Waiting behind a tree, they stared at an old bay window.
“Look, there he is. He is dressed in an old fashioned pajamas. He looks funny,” laughed Devon.
“Yeah, look at the funny cap on his head,” Mary giggled.
The old man entered the kitchen, unaware of his audience outside. His eyes locked on the fridge when it dawned on him something was on his breakfast table. He slowly turned and let out a squeal. He noticed the back door was open and froze for a moment. He screamed again. He raced to the refrigerator, grabbed some Holy water, threw it on the pumpkin, slammed the back door shut, ran up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door. Mary and Devon laughed hard. They laughed so much their bellies’ hurt. Their secret mission was a success.
* * *
Devon and Mary fidgeted in the hardwood pews as the pastor preached about God. They couldn’t believe they had to go to church on Halloween Day.
“You should get an automatic pass from church if Halloween is on a Sunday,” Devon whispered to Mary.
“Yeah,” she laughed.
“Shhh,” their mother scolded.
“I am so bor—” Mary said.
Before she could get the last syllable out, the giant church doors burst open. Old Man Jones ran to the front of the congregation.
“Armageddon is upon us! Armageddon is here! The devil came to my house and left a pumpkin head,” The Crazy Farmer shouted. He pointed a finger in Mary and Devon’s direction and yelled, “Repent! Repent and be saved!”
The pastor signaled for two ushers to escort Old Man Jones to his office. The pastor nodded to the assistant pastor; the lean young Holy Man quickly darted to the office.
“Poor old man. Who would be so wicked to terrorize him?” the sibling’s mother said with disgust in her voice.
The partners in mischief realized they had gone too far. Their hilarious prank seemed cruel and mean. They both shrunk deep in the church pews, exchanging fearful glances.
Later that evening, their mother prodded them to don their Halloween costumes and go trick-or-treating. She eagerly pulled two plastic pumpkins out of the closet.
“Let’s go before all the good candy gets snatched up,” their mother said with a gleam in her eye.
“My stomach hurts,” Devon whined.
“Mine too,” Mary echoed.
“What? What’s going on with you two?” Mother asked.
“We just want to stay in tonight. Is that okay, Momma?” Devon begged.
“Yes, Momma, please,” Mary pleaded.
Their mother’s smile faded. Her eyes grew wide. “Are my babies sick? Yes, of course, we don’t have to go out.”
The children thanked their mother and retreated to their room. Mary climbed up on the top bunk bed. Devon lay back on the bottom bunk.
“Mary, you think Mom or Dad will ever find out?”
Mary gulped. “I hope not. They would kill us,” she spoke with a tinge of fear in her voice.
“They will never—,” Devon said, assuring his little sister.
“I heard they had to take Old Man Jones to the hospital,” Mary said, tears beginning to swell in her eyes.
“No, that’s not true. He just went to his sister.”
Mary quietly cried.
“Mary, never tell anyone. Got it,” Devon said with a threatening tone.
“I won’t—I would never—,”
“Good. Then, let’s not talk about it anymore, before—”
Devon’s mom interrupted him, “Children, look what I brought you. Yum. Chicken noodle soup.”
Both children sat up in their bed. Their mother gave each child a hot cup of soup
. She kissed each child on the forehead. “Sorry you aren’t feeling well. Next year will be better. I bet it will be the most eventful Halloween ever,” their mother said with a smile.
* * *
Spine Chillers: Paranormal Stories Page 3
