by Lewis Stanek
He shut the generator off. The cellar instantly went black except for the light provided by his flashlight. He hurried up the ladder and out of the cellar. He let the trapdoor slam shut. Pleased with himself, that he found the generator, and that he would have electricity. Oswald was felt smug with his success and his inner fortitude going down into the cellar in the first place.
Oswald decided, now was the time to try his luck finding his way out of the woods and back into town. He walked to the car, but then decide he had better go back inside and clean himself up and at least change his shirt. He was sure the townsfolk already thought he was a strange duck and were talking about him. No need to let them add that he came to town wearing the same clothes he arrived in, and slept in, and reeking from the days labor. Once back inside the cabin he bathed as quickly as he could in the cold water from the pump and then changed into clean clothes.
Once he felt he was presentable, he hurried back to the car, eager to get to town and complete his larder, and stock up on those things he forgot yesterday. If the mood stuck, he may even stop at Sam & Ella's for some coffee and a piece of apple pie.
He started the Volvo and made a frustrating four point turn to get the car facing away from the cabin and onto what passed for a road in the woods. He followed the tire tracks until they blended into a dirt road, he followed the dirt road until it became gravel, and he followed the gravel road out of the woods. Now it was only a matter of navigating the cornfields back to town. Right or left he wasn't sure. He believed he turned left into the woods so he has to turn right to get back to town. Oswald thought if he remembered correctly he can simply follow this gravel road up to the asphalt road leading to town. After traveling a few miles, throwing up a cloud of gravel dust behind, he reached the asphalt road. This must be it he thought and turned left. After passing through several more miles of dry cornfields Oswald recognized the few buildings that made up the small business district of Dixon.
Oswald parked in front of Sam & Ella's and was about to walk in when he noticed the closed sign hanging in he window. He tried the door anyway, just in case Ed or Freida forgot to turn the sign around, and found the door securely locked. They're probably not losing much business, being closed for a bit in this town, maybe they close for their lunch break, or perhaps its a local holiday, he wondered as he strolled across the street to Oliver's. He approached the grocery store, worrying that it too may be closed. To his relief Oliver's was open.
He took a shopping cart by the handle and pushed it through the aisles doing some serious shopping. Selecting assorted canned meats, and vegetables, bread, coffee, a coffee pot, milk, rice, sugar onions, potatoes, peppers, pasta, butter, and mac & cheese, along with a few cans of chili, candles, salt and pepper, a case of soda and a case of beer. Last he selected a thick a beef steak. He hoped he could buy a block of dry ice here , but he didn't see any. On his way to the checkout counter he grabbed a few candy bars just in case he would want a treat.
“I see you're stocking up for the long haul.” Larry said eying Oswald's purchase as he rang them up.
“Yep, I might just be here to stay.” Oswald replied watching Larry's expression for any reaction. All he saw was a dull eyed stare. “Do you know where I can buy some dry ice?” Oswald asked.
“Right here of course, we may be small but we carry what you need.”
“Well, I need a block of dry ice for the ice box at the cabin.”
“Not much call for it usually, but I keep a stock of it here in the freezer, just in case someone might need some for camping or something. I'll get a block for you after you pay.”
“Cash in advance for ice eh. Are there many dry ice thieves here about?”
“That will be Seventy four dollars even.” Oswald handed Larry four twenties and held his hand out for the change. Which the cashier promptly counted out into his open palm.
“I'll go get that ice for you.” Larry said then walked to the freezer in the back of the store. After several minutes he came back with a fairly large rough cut block of dry ice, doubled bagged in heavy duty plastic.
“I don't quite remember how much the Dyer's used to buy when they were here. It's been awhile, but I figure a couple pounds will do ya for a time. Be careful how you handle it its damn cold.”
“Just put it in the cart, I'll take it from there okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
“By the way, do you know if Sam & Ella's will be open today?”
“I guess maybe, they were open for breakfast, but I saw them leave after the lunch hour. Maybe they'll be open for supper. I don't know. It's not like them to close in the middle of the day like that though.”
“Thanks.” Oswald replied then pushed the shopping cart out the door and then over the curb and across the street. He unloaded everything into the back of the station wagon and returned the cart across the street. He glanced back at the restaurant, still no sign of anyone inside. He walked over to Smiley's and walked into the garage.
“Anyone here?” he called.
“I'll be right there.” Someone yelled from the back of the building.
“You must be that guy staying at the Dyer place.” A thin man dressed in dirty coveralls asked.
“Yep, that would be me.” Oswald replied glancing about the garage, looking for a gas can.
“I'm George Bentley, but folks around here just call me Smiley. What can I do for you?”
“I need to borrow a gas can, a big one if you've got one that can hold about five gallons.”
“I think I can help you out there. Did you run out of gas? I can give you a ride back to your car or tow you back into town if it's something more serious.”
“Thanks, for the offer, but I just need to get some gas for the generator at the cabin.” Smiley grabbed a jerry can from the shadows in the far corner of the garage and carried it casually to Oswald.”
“This ought to do you. I think it may be about five gallons, maybe six. You can fill it up at the first pump outside. The second pump has been acting a little moody lately,” He said as he handed the can to Oswald.
“At Sam & Ella's they tell me you know the Dyers.”
“That's true. I work with doctor Aleister Dyer at Leicester University.”
“You one of them professor fellas like in the movies.”
“I don't know about that, but I am a professor.”
“My favorite movie was about a professor. You see he invented this potion that made him change into a whole different person.”
“Do you mean Doctor. Jekyll and Mister. Hide?”
“Nope, never seen that one. Is it any good?”
“ It's a classic.”
“Nah, the one I mean is called , um let me think a minute... The nutty professor, That's it. It has Jerry Lewis in it. You just can't beat a movie with Jerry Lewis, That's what I always say, anyway. Have you seen it?”
“Now that you mention it, I have,” Oswald stepped outside to the pump with Smiley following him. He unscrewed the cap to the can and filled the can with five gallons of regular.
“Does doctor Dyer seem like a nice guy to you?”
“Nice enough to let me use his cabin.”
“There are stories told around here about the Dyers. Not the kind you'd want your kids to hear if you know what I mean,” Smiley said straight faced. “That will be fifteen bucks for the gas. You can bring the can back later.”
Oswald Handed Smiley a twenty.
“I'll keep the change as a deposit on the can, I'll give it back when you bring the can back, alright?”
“Not a problem. See you around,” Oswald carried the jerry can to his car and loaded it into the back. The were lights on in the restaurant and the closed sign was gone. He walked inside, the was an elderly couple sitting at a booth enjoying their supper. At a glance it, looked like the man was having liver and onions and the lady was having some kind of fish. Oswald took a seat at the counter.
“So you made it through the night, want some coffee?”
Freida asked coming out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her white apron.
“Clara said you were roughing it last night, that you had to after setting off your bug bombs in the cabin.”
“No keeping secrets around here, is there?” Oswald replied with a wink.
“Oh we keep our secrets all right, but we sure do love to gossip about strangers. Would you like another piece of that cheesy pie you like? I can heat a piece up in no time.” Oswald smiled an nodded as Freida poured him a cup of coffee. He shook a little sugar into the cup and stirred it in, let it dissolve, then took a sip and savored the rich flavor.
“Freida, I'll wait on that pie for now. What have you got on the menu for supper?” Oswald asked.
“We have ham off the bone, you can have that with eggs if you want or you can have it with green beans and mashed potatoes, we've got liver and onions, you already know about our burgers. We have it all, and if we don't have it, it's not worth having.”
“I'll have the liver and onions, with extra onions, and then I'll have that piece of cheesy pie for desert. Has Clara been in today?”
“There's no telling when Clara's going to be about, or for how long for that matter.”
“When you see her next, tell her thanks for me. I would have never found the cabin yesterday without her help.”
“I could have told you how to get there, no hard trick in that. You take Galena North to Bloody Gulch Road then turn right and you follow that all the way to the Castle Rock Woods and you turn in on old Dyer road and follow that as far as you can and then you're there.”
“Bloody Gulch Road? How did it get a name like that?”
“That's an old name. It goes back to the time when they drove the Dyers out.” said the old man at the table.
“what do you mean drove the Dyer's out of town. I thought they were one of the founding families?” Oswald asked.
“They were, of course they were. They were a powerful family in the beginning, but they had strange ways, evil ways about them.”
“What strange ways? What are you talking about?”
“I'm old, but I'm not that old to remember myself, but I know what my grandparents said. And it wasn't a pretty story I tell you.”
“Well what was it? Were they burned as witches or what?” Oswald asked.
“Don't let him bother you,” Clara said entering the restaurant and sitting next to Oswald at the counter. “It's all nothing but old wives tales if you ask me.”
“No one's asking you Missy.” The old man said pointing his fork at her.
“Them Dyers were an evil bunch, doing hellish things out there. What was done had to be done. That's all there is to it.”
“That was ages ago. I bet Oswald's friend doesn't even know what happened back then.”
“Maybe not, But he must have heard the same stories as you and me. He tried living out here for awhile didn't he? He must have been told stories by his parents and grand parents, he must have some idea.” Looking straight at Oswald the old man asked. Did your friend tell you anything about the place's history?”
“No, and to be honest, I didn't even think to ask, If he knew he probably was too embarrassed to say anything about it. What could he say? By the way Oswald, my family was driven out of town by a bunch of rubes with torches and pitchforks? I think I'd keep that to myself too if I were him.” Freida served Oswald his liver and onions.
“Can I freshen up your coffee?” She asked her voice tense.
“Yes, please.“ Oswald replied glad to have something to think about other than the the old man's ranting, yet he would like to know what exactly happened to the Dyers and why. Oswald looked the old man at the table in the eye and said.
“What you're saying interests me. May I join you and your wife?” The man's mouth all but dropped to the floor, his wife's eyes opened wide like saucers.
“Why uh, um.”
“Thank you.” Oswald said picking up his plate and cup then moving over to the table to join his unwilling host. He sat between the man and his wife.
“Why, all the nerve!” the old woman harrumphed.
“So please tell me. What did the dyers do that was so bad that your ancestors felt they needed to drive them out of town? Were they into polygamy like the Mormons? Were they witches and run around naked in the woods? What was so bad? If I'm going to be living there for awhile, I think I have a right to know.” Oswald stated, is voice firm, staring directly into the old man's eyes.
“I suppose you do at that.” the old man replied and began a tale of strange gods, death, murder, human sacrifice, and cannibalism.” Oswald listened intently, he suspected some of the activities described as ancient Sumerian rituals of the highest order. Of course his experience was limited to reading the journals of noted archaeologists and anthropologists, and one field excursion long ago when doing his graduate studies.
“Finally John Dixon himself worked up the courage to end the carnage. He motivated a group of men to arm themselves. Most of the men had children missing, lost in the woods so to speak. John Dixon led them into the woods like a hunting party complete with hound dogs to follow the scent if the need arose. They went to the cabin first, but it was empty. John broke in and found a piece of clothing to give the dogs the scent. The dogs went wild barking and chasing after the scent right to Sacrifice Rock.
All the Dyers and some others were there, some dressed in gray robes some naked, some holding torches to light the activities. One standing at the rock held a bloody curved knife in his hand. A bloody corpse lay on the rock. They arrived too late to save that poor child. The sight of the dead child enraged the They attacked, killing many, many of the other's scattered and tried to run away. The dogs and the men followed catching them at Bloody Gulch Road. There, they killed them all. All, but the few that hid in the woods and slipped away during the carnage. Years, many years later The Dyer's you know came back and laid legal claim to the cabin and the land. The Township fought their claim in court, but as you know, after all the appeals and counter suits ,and such, in the end the Dyers won.”
“That's when they moved back?”
“Not right away, but yes after a few month's they moved back. They started out all friendly like, trying to fit in with us, acting as if they weren't what we already knew they really were. But we weren't having none of it. They moved out after a year or two, then they would only come out during the summers spend a week or so out there by themselves and then go back wherever it was they came from. They've left the property alone for the past couple of years. That is until you showed up.”
“I'm not a Dyer, I'm not related to the Dyers. I'm a professor of medieval Metaphysics at Leicester University in Leicester Massachusetts, Aleister Dyer is the Dean of the department. He is my boss, that is all.” Oswald interjected.
“So he's your boss, not your brother, makes little difference to me. We're not going to put up with that kind of goings on, not here. Not ever again!” The old man sprayed spittle across the table with that last statement. Oswald looked at his plate and decided he wasn't that hungry after all.
“ I 'm here to take a break from teaching, to take some time to study, maybe to write, but I'm not here to cause you or anyone else in this town any problems. I can promise you that.” Oswald got up from the table stepped to the counter and asked Freida what he owed.
“Do you still want your cheesy pie?” she asked.
“Maybe another time.” he replied then paid his bill and handed her a generous tip. No point in making any more enemies than I have already he thought as he walked out the front door and to car. Clara got up and followed him.
“Can you get back on your own today?” She asked.
“Yep, Galena to Bloody Gulch, to Castle Rock and I'm there. Easy Peasy.”
“You're a quick learner. Oswald, I just wanted you to know not everyone in Dixon is as bigoted as the two in there. I wanted you to know you have a friend.”
“I appreciate that Clara” Oswald smiled. “Are we s
till on for the cook out?”
“Just tell me when and I'll be there.”
”Why don't you bring your folks too.” Oswald said not wanting to give Clara's parent's the wrong impression. Oswald climbed into his car and gave Clara a wave, then drove off up Galena Avenue, heading towards Bloody Gulch.
Chapter Six
After unloading the car, and filling the ice box first with the dry ice, then with all of the perishables he had brought back from Oliver's grocery store. Oswald carried the jerry can of gasoline to the root cellar. After propping the trapdoor up, he gingerly climbed down the ladder to the root cellar. He placed the can on the dirt floor then he uncapped the generator's gas tank, briefly searched around for a funnel, found one nearby and last poured the fresh gasoline into the tank.
When the generator's tank was full, the jerry can felt as if he still had a couple of gallons left in it. Oswald shook the can and felt the gas slosh around inside the can. He recapped the gas can and left it on the dirt floor next to the stone foundation wall. He recapped the generators gas tank, and then gave a quick pull on the starter rope. The generator putted to life and the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling lit filling the root cellar with amber light, exposing it to Oswald's view.
The twelve foot concrete circle in the center of the cellar caught his attention, now that he knew some of the place's history it caught his imagination as well. He wondered what really could be under that slab. He took a quick look around, saw nothing unusual only the string hanging from the bare bulb and the boxes in the corner. He considered looking into the boxes, then decided against it. After all how would he feel if someone was digging around in his basement. Oswald considered shutting off the light, but kept it burning instead. Finding that little string in the dark would be a pain in the ass. He climbed up the ladder leaving the boxes and light bulb alone. He then let the trapdoor down. Taking a beer from the ice box and carrying to the living room, he noticed an old desk that had to be at least a hundred years old sitting next to the log wall. He pulled back the old wooden desk chair and had a seat. There was a kerosene lantern on the desk, but as he went to all the bother of starting the generator he looked for an electric lamp. There was one on the end table next to a wingback chair. The sun was low in the sky and the light in the cabin was dimming, Oswald remembered the bedding he left airing out, hanging from the porch railing.
