27

  "Thank you, God!"

  Tired or not, I rushed to get my shoes and keys, and I hurried out the front door.

  The light from my living room gave half of my yard a gentle glow as I hurried down the walking path. It was a peaceful, chilly night, but the cold air was welcome against my flushed face. The sky was beautiful. Even though I was in a bowl of a valley, I was in awe of the clarity of the stars and moon that seemed to light a path just for me. The ethereal glow above made up for the lack of street lights.

  There were no honking horns or sounds of music blaring from passing cars. I took in another deep breath and blew out all the cares of the day. As I turned onto Windy Hill Lane, I marveled at how peaceful it was.

  As I walked, something moved along the road to my right. I looked down and paused, but the pills dampened any real response I might have had.

  It was a raccoon. I blinked a few times, but the black-masked little guy stayed put. The yellow Sleep pill made me see things sometimes, but if the images weren't real, they usually disappeared after a blink or two.

  I cocked my head and looked at him. He stood on his hind legs and cocked his head at me. He was imitating me, but I found it amusing. If it wasn't for the drugs, I probably would have screamed and ran. I had never been so close to a non-stuffed raccoon, but there he was.

  "Come on," I instructed, and I started walking. He followed along, waddling beside me, between me and the grass. "Welcome to Middwood, where you can walk with the raccoons."

  I snickered. I shook my head because I knew I was high. I continued to shake my head because something was gnawing at me, but I couldn't make out exactly what it was. It was a puzzle that needed to be solved only I didn't have all the pieces. I was bothered. What was it?

  "Thanks, pills."

  Finally, my neck loosened. Again, I experienced peace. I took in the tranquility when, from my right, there was a gentle warmth, a welcome sensation like I was walking with a friend. A grin stretched across my face as I turned to my friend, but I was alone. The raccoon scampered away across the dirt road into the darkness.

  "Where are you going?" I was staring off to my right after him when a breath tickled my neck.

  "We want you to see us." The hoarsely whispered words spattered my ear.

  I rolled my neck and ducked out of reach, swatting my hands to push back the unseen face that had to be only inches from mine. There was no one there. Where was he? Was it a man's voice?

  My mind clicked, puzzle solved. I was outside. I was outside after dark, and I was standing in the road.

  "Oh shit," I spat as searched around me for the stalker. I spun, but there was no one there. I stared into the shadows.

  I was almost to Main Street, between the big store and the Methodist church. I turned around and gave the lonely street a three hundred and sixty-degree scan. Not a soul was to be found.

  When I had imagined what Franklin meant about not going outside at night, I imagined the distant howling coyotes, an owl, or some wild beast charging at me from the darkness, but not a person.

  That's because no one is there, I thought.

  I convinced myself it was the drugs. My father used to take similar pills, and sometimes he would have crazed fits, seeing snakes come out of the doors. I had never encountered anything like that.

  I tried to shake it off. I was in some drug-induced manifestation caused by the superstitious nonsense of the town.

  I took in a fresh, deep breath and let it out with a sigh, but then I saw something out of the corner of my eye to the left. My lungs clenched, coughing out the cold night air as I jerked my head.

  Nothing.

  I swallowed hard, as my heart beat in my ears. My mind told me to back up slowly and get back inside. But I silenced that thought as I stared at the empty dirt road in front of me. It was cold, it was dark, and I was high.

  It's the drugs man. Relax. Just go get your toothbrush. But a rush of vertigo flooded my head, causing me to drop to my hands and knees in the dirt. I held myself up, feeling the sandy grit beneath my fingers as the wave washed over me. I kept my head down as my stomach churned. I took deep breaths to calm my head and stomach.

  The chilly air blew over me, and my head finally started to clear. I imagined myself as a stone sitting on the road, thrown there by some bored child. I could see myself, clear as a bell, the moon causing a shadow to draw behind me, pointing up the hill. Warmth spread over the crown of my head, which made the picture in my mind change.

  I imagined four figures standing before me in a straight line, still and sullen.

  I opened my eyes. The shadows were there.

  I jumped back with a shout and fell on my ass with my arms holding me up and my hands pressing onto the sandy, graveled road.

  The street was empty.

  I got to my feet. My eyes darted around. My skin crawled. I wanted to run. Toothbrush or not, I started back toward the house.

  I chuckled to myself. "There is nothing there. Don't let the town get to you, Matt." I tried to hold my grin as I continued back up Windy Hill Lane.

  Within a few steps, a warmth on my right shoulder blade spread across my back, a sharp contrast to my cooled skin. The heat pulsed in a wave, but then broke into a sudden, cold shiver. I spun, grabbing at my back.

  It's a muscle spasm, I thought, but my skin was like ice to the touch.

  I searched around me in panic. There was nothing there. Yet something had brushed against me. My breath came in shallow pants, and my heart beat picked up. My head told me to run, but I could only maintain a steady walk.

  I turned onto Thornbrook, and I tried to take control of my breathing, but my mouth was dry. I licked my lips. Then, ahead, coming out from behind one of the houses on the right, stood a figure cloaked in shadow. I could see no hint or detail other than it was big and broad.

  It crouched. I mimicked it without thinking. We were both frozen, waiting. I swallowed and slowly held up my hand to wave. The figure took off running in the opposite direction like I'd threatened him with a gun.

  I wanted to follow, to see where he went, but, again, I felt the warmth on my shoulder. There was pressure with the touch. A hand was on me.

  I whirled as the creepy, light touch crawled over my skin. I ran toward the house, but the presence followed, a tension just beyond my skin like someone was about to whisper in my ear. I could almost feel their lips against my neck as bounded up the stairs, opened and shut the door, and locked it.

  I wiped at my neck as I turned and stepped away from the door, waiting for a knock. "Get it together, Matt," I panted. "There isn't anyone there. It's just the possum. Get it together."

  I ran my hands through my hair, trying to shake the phantom hand away. I sat on the stairs, and I squeezed the back of my neck, massaging the strange sensation. It wasn't a headache. It was something else, something new, crawling right down my spine. I craned my neck, but quickly stood straight when I heard it: footsteps on the porch.

  There it was again, the scratching outside the door.

  I stood.

  The ringing in my ears got louder as the steps got closer.

  I heard myself say, “Move. Move. Go upstairs.”

  The spark finally connected, my head started to nod, my feet pushed backward, and I scrambled upstairs. Whatever it was didn't get in last night, and I was sure it wouldn't get in tonight.

  I stopped by the bathroom and grabbed my bottle of anxiety pills. I threw one back into my throat as I hurried down the hall, then locked myself in the Tomb.

  28

  Tuesday, November 3, 1964

  * * *

  Sunrise 6:59 am. Sunset 5:34 pm.

  As the crouching figure slashed its claws into me, I jerked to a sitting position, holding my side where I'd been attacked.

  * * *

  The figure in my dream stalked me throughout the night, while hands and claws grabbed at me from every direction. I wondered if I was awake, but the reeking odor billowing out of my mouth confirmed the fact that I had indeed not brushed my teeth.

  Regardless of my mental state, I was prepared for navigating the dark void of the Tomb. I wasn't going to wander in the darkness this time. I stood, feeling toward the end of my bed, and inched forward until my hand found the wall. I still had to search for the switch, but it wasn't difficult.

  I looked at my hand. There wasn't any blood, and no marks on my side. But it had been so real. I exhaled.

  I heaved the bloodwood door open and stepped into the hallway. The morning glow from the bathroom window welcomed me out of my Tomb and back into the land of the living. Very poetic.

  Poetry had always intrigued me, but after last night that particular thought didn't set well. I couldn't help but think about what had happened. I scoffed, hell, maybe I never left the house, it could have been a dream or a pill-induced hallucination. There was no other explanation. Middwood, as backward as it was, wasn't the gate to Hell or the afterlife. If anything, Middwood was so well hidden, God himself gave up looking for it. I chuckled.

  Once downstairs, I stepped out onto the front porch. The foggy morning glow hugged the yards, the dry, barren trees, and the rooftops of my new neighbors. Then I looked above and beyond my street. I blinked at the mountains like someone with a hangover would blink at the sun.

  While I was admiring the view, I noticed a figure peeking at me from a window of the yellow house across the street. I could only see their silhouette, but I assumed it was a woman. I realized I wasn't wearing a shirt. Then another woman peered out from the coral house. Small-town antics, I thought. Nosey people that gossiped the detailed account of blown out tires and questioned why the new teacher was staying in the most beautiful house in Middwood.

  I waved with friendly acknowledgment to both of them, and with that, they sank from view.

  After getting dressed and having a healthy breakfast of one of Grandma Rollin's biscuits, I left for the school. I looked down at my watch. I would actually be early, I marveled.

  Even though I convinced myself that the previous night wasn't real, I decided to take a different route to work. Instead of walking down Windy Hill Lane, I'd walk down Thornbrook and turn right on the street that led behind the Catholic church. Besides, I wanted to investigate the second part of my hallucination. I intentionally walked past the greenhouse, which was where I'd seen the dark figure standing.

  "Good morning!" shrilled a chipper voice.

  I jumped, throwing up my fists.

  A middle-aged woman stepped out from the side of her house and hurried toward me.

  With a short laugh, still holding up my hands. "Sorry, you caught me by surprise. Good morning."

  "Mr. Christian, you're up early, almost too early," she leaned back with a prim laugh. "That's a town joke...being out almost too early," she nodded. "You know the second rule, right? Oh God, Franklin did tell you the rules didn't he?"

  “Oh, he did." I got the joke but wasn't sure how far I should take my laugh, so I just smiled.

  She laughed. "I got nervous there for a second. I'm Mrs. Judy. My daughter, Amy, goes to your school. She's the one with the long blonde hair." The way she pronounced the word hair, she made it into two syllables. The Southern dialect was considerably thicker here and had more of a drawl than I was used to. Her face went blank and then became concerned. "She's not the really pretty blonde, that's Allison. Amy is the other blonde. I mean she's pretty and all, but you know what I mean," she explained nodding.

  I held my grin.

  "Are you on your way to school? I know your car is parked out there on the highway. Any idea on when you’re going to get to work on it?"

  "I'm not sure."

  "Eddie told my husband he was checking it out and noticed the gas on the ground. He thinks you got a crack in your fuel tank."

  "Oh, did he? Well, I'm hoping to get it repaired soon." I peered past her to the side of the house where she'd approached from, which was also where the bent man had appeared.

  She followed my gaze to the side of her house. "Oh, I was lookin' at my bushes on the side there. The dogs have been in them again."

  "Dogs?" I guessed it could have been a dog I saw last night, if a dog stood on its hind legs.

  "Well, it could have been a small bear."

  "What makes you say it’s a dog?"

  She pointed. "Well, there's a spot hollered out against the house."

  "You think so? I've never seen anything like that. Do you mind if I take a look?"

  "Well, sure, if you want to."

  We walked toward the spot, and she continued talking about how they'd been so busy, which was why the bushes were so high.

  "No need to tell me, I'm terrible at yard work."

  "Well, there it is."

  It was hard to see, but between the two bushes, there was a definite freshly scratched up stretch of dirt. It could have been anything. I took a step back toward the street and turned again into the bushes. The scrape continued. I estimated it to be at least six feet long. "Good grief."

  "I know, the old critter must not have been able to get settled. I hope it ain't a bitch trying to nest to have puppies. Thad will have to get the baseball bat."

  I stared at her in horror. "I hope not."

  She waved the thought off. "I'll let you go. Amy really loved her first day, and, by the way, all the parents think you're great."

  "I'm happy to hear that. Everyone has been very welcoming."

  "Amy'll be up shortly. Have a good day."

  "Thank you. You, too."

  She gave me a warm smile and returned to her bushes.

  It definitely hadn’t been her or Amy I'd seen the night before. Could it have been a bear?

  I lifted my chin with a grin. It could have been a bunny rabbit, or a unicorn, as high as I was.

  29

  I had already written all my math review questions on the board and I still had some free time before the first student arrived. I decided if I could find enough books, I could pick various selections for all the reading levels, but I wasn't sure where they were.

  "Where are the reading books?" I murmured.

  A plume of dust swirled from a table in a back corner. I stared at the table, then looked at the door. I'd left it open to try to air out the wet, moldy smell that lingered after the cleaning. Still, it was odd that only the dust in that particular corner was stirred. I walked to the table and there, neatly arranged, were various young reading books covered with dust, except for one. I picked up the clean copy, The Joys of Reading.

  “Perfect. This is a turn of luck." I smiled and gathered up as many of them as I could.

  I carried them out to the old tree stump in the center of the schoolyard. Using the blackboard eraser, I wiped them off, but I hadn’t tested the breeze first, and ended up inhaling the cloud dust. I sneezed loudly. "Great."

  As I sniffled, I heard laughter.

  I froze, then scanned the schoolyard. There was no one there. I listened again. I wasn't sure if I heard anything or if it was just in my head.

  The silence returned. I wiped my nose and repositioned myself so the caked on dust would blow away from me, and continued cleaning the books.

  Thoughts and questions about the previous teacher came to mind. I wanted to know more about her. Had she stood in this very spot and dusted off books? And though it was morbid, I wanted to know how she died.

  The breeze picked up as little girl voices coming up the hill, tinkling like bells.

  There was a tug on my pants leg.

  "It's not polite to sneak up behind someone."

  I looked over my shoulder, but the field was empty. Close to my leg, I noticed a piece of bark protruding from the stump. It must have snagged my pants.

  There were no voices, no giggles, but still, I walked toward the path that led down to the highway.

  * * *

  "Don't be silly, Matt,” I told myself.

  * * *

  A commotion behind me caused me to turn.

  All the books were laying on the ground. My jaw dropped. "Sneaky little devils." The giggling resumed, this time coming from within the school. They must have snuck around me.

  I took the clean books and bounded up the school stairs. "Would you mind helping me with the rest of these—"

  The room was empty. There was no other way in or out. A chill crept over me. My heart rate picked up. "It's the same as last night," I whispered.

  I heard the laughter outside again. I sighed in relief and hurried down the stairs. The girls must be hiding behind the building. My humor was fading and I was becoming irritated.

  I rounded the side of the school and—nothing.

  Around the back, I told myself. I walked faster as their chattered grew more excited.

  * * *

  "Ha! I have you now!"

  There was no one there.

  Anger built inside my chest. "Stop running away from me!" I rushed around to the front—and the twins blocked my path. I dodged to the left to avoid knocking them over but lost my balance and fell.

  "Why have you been hiding from me?"

  The two girls stared at me like stoics, no evidence of joy or laughter. "Were you two ... laughing?" The word laughing sounded strange when used in association with the twins. "Well, was it?"

  They shook their heads causing their little red braids to swing against their lower cheeks.

  "Did you see anyone else?" I snapped.

  The twins said nothing.

  "The girls I was chasing?" Aggravated at their blank stares, I pointed. "I was at the stump dusting off—" I lowered my arm slowly.

  The girls stared up at me. Shame stung in my chest, I hoped I hadn't scared them with my rantings. I stood, brushing the dirt from my pants. I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, girls. Good morning."

  "Good morning, Mr. Christian," they said in unison with their unchanging, upward, wide-eyed stare.

  I knelt to get at eye-level with them. "Did anyone run up the hill ahead of you just now?"

 

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