(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill. The previous chapter was Sean (Part 1). The Table of Contents is here)
(Note – this is part 2 of a two part chapter. Part 1)
A hand fell heavily on my shoulder.
“Hey Gill, having trouble finding them?” It was Bill’s voice.
I was looking into an empty black space, no people were visible, no woman and no children. I turned to look at Bill. There was only him there, no other men.
“Uhm yeah, Bill. Coming in from the bright outside my eyes just didn’t want to adjust. I’m still a bit blinded.”
“Here they are.”
Several garden rakes, a hoe, a spade and a yard rake were leaning against the wall just inside of the entrance to the main building.
“Oh, I must have walk right past them. No wonder I didn’t see them. I was looking over there.” I pointed past were the woman and children had been, into the dark far corner of the building.
“Here, I’ll grab a couple,” he said. “You take the rest. Let’s go, the air in here is unhealthy.” Continue reading
This is a supplement of The Old Mill
More than one person has told me that they were confused by the genealogy of the Goode family. There are a lot of names mentioned, but here are a few of the most important ones and how they are related. Continue reading
(This is the latest installment of the series that starts with The Old Mill. The previous chapter was Bill Wallace. The Table of Contents is here)
(Note – this is part 1 of a two part chapter)
Bill pulled into my driveway at almost exactly 8:30. I was out of the door before his truck came to a stop. I climbed in and set my travel mug next to his.
He almost immediately started talking about a neighbor of his that I didn’t know very well. It was typical small town gossip and complaints. He had barely gotten out of my drive before I picked up my mug and sipped my coffee, just nodding at the appropriate places and saying, “A-huh,” when needed. I only half noticed that we were headed up to Amesbury Center until we turned to take the road that avoids the main village.
“We’re going to the Goode Mansion, aren’t we?” I asked.
Bill smiled. “Ay-yup.”
I had wondered why he asked me to come with him; now I knew. Continue reading
Mark woke up with his scream still in his ear, his body covered in sweat.
The place next to him was empty.
He walked down the stairs. A light was on in the kitchen and he could make out the sounds of someone digging through the cupboards.
“In here, dear. I couldn’t sleep so I’m doing a bit of cleaning. I’ll be back up soon. You should go back to bed.”
“I can’t,” Mark said. He sat down at the dining room table and watched the shadows dance across the floor outside of the kitchen. “I had a nightmare, can’t sleep.”
“Uhm.” He couldn’t tell if she was really listening, but had to talk it out, if only for his own sake.
“These creatures, I don’t know what they were, like aliens or demons or something, came and took you away. You were screaming but there was nothing I could do. I was helpless.”
“Awful.” Continue reading
PHOTO PROMPT © Erin Leary
It had filled my imagination.
My heart skips a beat.
The speakeasy on the water
Flappers and rakes
Pulse gone crazy.
Bootleg gin, loud jazz
Can he hear?
The noise had woken him.
No one survived. It was blamed on a gang from the city.
He knows I’m here!
Cursed and abandoned, the club crumbled into the lake.
He can smell my blood.
I had heard the stories, but figured they were just that, stories.
He can feel my mind.
But I found the ruins
He’s below the surface.
Something grabs my leg
He’s back! Continue reading
“I need to let you know again that the procedure is very experimental and, well, very illegal,” Dr. Hale said. He could tell by Robert’s expression that he wanted, no needed, to go through with it.
“The animal tests, while promising, were also inconclusive,” Dr. Hale continued. “In almost 25% of the cases the subject was worse after the procedure and in 12% of the cases they died. This for a success rate of only 47%”
Robert blinked twice for “yes”. Dr. Hale sighed. Robert’s organs were failing. He didn’t have much longer and was desperate to try anything. Dr. Hale cursed himself for even mentioning the procedure, but now that Robert had some hope he didn’t want to deny him.
He reminded himself that he should never have taken a friend on as a patient. Continue reading
“There are police in the front yard.”
Sara shook her head. Where did that come from? She had been working all morning. Perhaps it was time for a break. She got up and walked to the kitchen. A large window opened onto the front yard. It was a beautiful late fall day. The trees across the road were glowing rust and mahogany in the morning sun. Her neighbor Ruth was out walking her dog. Sara notice Ruth only had a thin jacket on. The weather report called for almost record breaking temps. They used to call such warm spells “Indian Summer” but she figured that term was now considered racist.
There wasn’t a police officer or car to be seen. Not that she expected one. Why had she even looked? She laughed at herself but stopped short. For some reason the way the laugh reflected off of the wall bothered her. She unconsciously took out her cell. Her hand was shaking. She clicked Darren’s name. Her thumb hovered over the word “DIAL”. Why was she calling Darren? Feeling silly she put the phone away. Continue reading
“Uhm, could you explain that again?” Mike asked. He let out a little laugh. Mike had obviously had a little too much to drink.
Barbara, ignoring the rude tone of Mike’s question said. “It’s pretty simple actually. The world of the living and the world of the dead are very close, perhaps just nanometers apart. Some of the dead easily bridge this gap. We call them ghosts. Some of the living can too. Politely we call them Mediums, but some call them crack-pots.” Everyone looked at Mike.
“Periodically the worlds merge, but usually it’s one sided,” Barb continued. “Almost yearly the world of the dead approaches the land of the living. Typically this happens in late October or early November, but it doesn’t follow a human calendar. As the world of the dead approaches, more make that transition and they are usually a little more substantial, less the shadow and almost solid. Thus we get the day of the dead in many cultures. The world of the living sometimes approaches the land of the dead, but it follows its own rhythm that few have learned to fathom. When this happens, more people can see into that land of the dead, even enter it. They can interact with those on the other side. Most people aren’t ready for it, so we see an upswing in murders and suicides. There are also more what some would call psychotic events. You know, people seeing things or hearing things, believing strange events. Our Western science has no explanation so attributes it to mental illness.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I have heard stories like this. By why is tonight special?”
“This will be the first time in a thousand years that the two coincide, that the world of the dead approaches the land of the living as the world of the living approaches the land of the dead,” Barbara said. “Not only that, this is the first time in almost three millennia that it will happen on Halloween.” Continue reading
Off of the Interstate onto the country highway, heading north, the orange and yellow hills turned to brown as the miles went by and sun set. The small highway was traded for a smaller road. Few lights were on in the little village before an even smaller road led into the pitch black of a moonless night. All of it was lost in a tunnel vision of an endless trip. The familiar dashboard and windscreen were unchanged, the steering wheel a constant. The landscape was a blur. He’d seen it before.
The day had gone by in a blur for Arch. It wasn’t a good blur. Images of strife and argument filled his mind. An argument with Linda as he left for work. And then Paula met him at the door. He had screwed up the report. She had shown him how to do it. If he couldn’t figure it out, why didn’t he ask for help? Didn’t he realize how big the contract was, that loosing it would mean closing their doors for good? The day went downhill from there.
He called Linda at lunch, apologies on his lips, wanting to have an silver lining for the day.
Linda had other ideas. Continue reading
“What’s up?” Sheila asked.
“Oh, nothing bad, just a Face Book friend request from Wendell Steele,” Vince said.
“And the problem is?” Sheila asked.
“Oh, it’s another one of those high school ‘friends’ that I never really knew well or liked much,” Vince said.
“So? I mean, how many are you Face Book friends with now? Dozens? What’s one more?”
“Maybe you’re right. It’s just, well, I don’t know, there was something about Wendell, that, I can’t put my finger on it, he just rubbed me so much the wrong way,” Vince said. “His eyes, those eyes, seemed to see through me and seemed to always be on me. I used to think he was stalking me, always talking to me in his irritating voice, wanting to join in whatever I was doing, staring with those eyes. And it wasn’t like I was popular. In fact, he was much more popular than I was; far, far more popular. I don’t know.” Continue reading