The House At Sunset (part 2)

By Jesse Edwardson

 

The boys ate a quick early dinner, Spaghetti-Os, then they went to the mall. The arcade was crowded, so much so that they had to wait in a line to play Dragon's Lair even though it has been out since last summer. They took turns playing the Star Wars arcade game. The vector graphics of this game reminded Eddie of the tank game Battlezone. Max thought it was pretty awesome. There was a new game with a big line that they didn't bother trying to play, it was called Paperboy. Max thought it's name sounded too much like a job. Eddie laughed at that.

Before they knew it, they were fresh out of quarters. With twenty minutes or so before Max's mom would show up to bring them home, the boys left the arcade and wandered around the mall.

“So, what should we bring with us tonight?” Max asked Eddie.

“I don't know, a camera maybe,” Eddie said.

“Are we gonna try to get inside of it? I mean if it really shows up that is,” Max said.

“Do you want to?” Eddie asked.

“Not really, I'm just wondering what you're planning to do.”

“Well, let's just see if it even shows up tonight. Take a picture of it and that should be good enough,” Eddie said.

“Ok. Who knows what would happen if we went inside that house. If it disappeared with us inside? That would be weird as hell,” Maxed said with a chill running up his spine.

“Yeah, that would be messed up,” Eddie answered. He had a far off look in his eye.

“Eddie, you don't think that house has anything to do with your brother being gone do you?”

“No. At least I hope not,” Eddie answered.

“Ok, well my mom should almost be here now. Let's go out to the front entrance.”

The boys stepped out into the early spring day just as Max's mom pulled up to the doors in her yellow Ford Maverick. The air still held some of winter's chill but carried the promising scent of the approaching summer. The two boys took a deep breath of the fresh and chilly air at the same time. They each relished the quality of the air, as if they were grown men with families and responsibilities. The boys they are were rapidly becoming the men they would become and these adult notions were becoming more and more frequent. They glanced at each other across the roof of the car before they got in. They saw the man within each other for the first time in their lives. It was only a moment, forgotten almost immediately. They dropped into their seats, shut the doors and Max's mom drove them away toward home.

The boys had about an hour before sunset. They decided to kill the time by playing Max's ColecoVision in the family room.

“So, is there film in your camera?” Eddie asked Max as he directed Mario the plumber up the ladders toward top of the building to save his girlfriend from Donkey Kong on the TV.

“Yeah, there's a few pictures left on it,” Max said.

“We should take a before and an after shot of the place,” Eddie said without taking his eyes off of the TV.

“Yeah, sounds like a plan. Can I have a turn already? You're taking forever,” Max said.

“I'm sorry that I'm awesome at Donkey Kong,” Eddie said grinning a little.

Later, when they were equipped with a Kodak Instamatic camera with nine exposures left and two flashlights, Max called to his mom from the back door. “Mom, Eddie and me are gonna go walking around for a while. Ok?”

“That's fine, just don't be out too late. The sun's going down,” she answered from the living room.

“Ok, we'll be back shortly after dark,” he called back.

“Alright,” she replied.

“See, no problem. We'll go, get our pictures, and be back in plenty of time to see Carson's monologue and after that I'll show you how a real man plays Donkey Kong,” Max whispered to Eddie.

“Yeah, right,” Eddie said

The boys stepped out into the back yard and cut across the neighbors yard to get to Yale Drive. From there it was only four blocks to Delavan Street.

They walked down the street, ignoring the sidewalk, with their hands shoved deep into their pants pockets. Traffic was virtually non-existent. The sun was still up, but just barely. The day had only fifteen minutes remaining and then night would return like a vampire to drain it's life away.

“Man, it's cold out,” Eddie said through chattering teeth.

“Yeah, it is,” Max answered. He didn't really think it was so cold. He knew that Eddie was just getting nervous. He wanted to allow his friend an excuse for his chattering teeth.

The walk to where Delavan comes to a T-intersection with Yale was quick and, other than Eddie's comment on how cold it was, quiet. Max knew that Eddie was doing something important to him so he didn't goof around with him or pick on him. He just walked with his friend.

They reached the end of Yale Drive at 7:35 p.m. The boys turned and walked north along Delavan Street for half a block. As they walked the could see the vacant lot approaching them across the street and to their left.

The lot grabbed all of their attention. It stared back at them, like a lioness crouched in the tall grass tracking prey. It had known they would come.

They stopped when they reached a spot directly across the street from the empty lot. On either side of the lot stood empty derelict houses. They were long since abandoned and cast the appearance of rotting teeth standing as sentinels for the missing tooth that had once filled the gap between them.

The empty lot stood overgrown and weedy. Through it's emptiness, and across the barren land beyond, the sun was visible as a sliver just above the horizon. The sky above was filled with a scattering of wispy clouds that during the day promised of warm summer days ahead. Now, they looked like black polluted puffs of smoke floating through a blackish purple sky. Closer to the ground, the sky turned blood red and faded to a pinkish color. Nearest to the sun it had a deep golden hue. The view was breathtaking and horrible all at once.

Eddie and Max stared across the street into the empty lot and the sunset beyond. Their faces were bathed in fading golden light. Their eyes fixed and unblinking, Eddie swallowed hard in his throat making a loud clicking sound. Max jumped a little. Eddie's nervousness had begun to spread.

“Man, are all of these houses empty,” Max asked, finally looking around at the houses on both sides of the street.

“Probably,” Eddie answered without taking his eyes away from the lot. “The sun's almost gone, we should take a couple of pictures.”

“Oh, yeah. Here ya go,” Max handed Eddie the little camera.

Eddie looked toward his friend and took the camera from him. He slid the lens cover sideways and raised it to his eyes. Through the viewfinder, Eddie could see the empty lot with just the smallest bit of sun peaking out over the horizon behind it. He snapped the shutter button, capturing an image of the weedy lot and the sunset. He dropped the camera from his eyes to wind the film to the next exposure. It was then that the last rays of sunlight dropped below the horizon.

The House At Sunset (part 1)

By Jesse Edwardson

 

“Bullshit!” Max blurted.

“No, it ain't bullshit. I saw it with my own eyes,” Eddie said.

Max rolled his eyes, shook his head and said, “There is no fucking way that some old house can only be seen after sunset and can't be seen after sunrise.”

“It's not that it can't be seen. It's not there at all during the day. I walked around the lot and through the space that the house stands in at night.

“You've seen the house too?” Max asked.

“Kinda. One time my parents and I drove by it coming home from somewhere and I looked out the car window as we passed it. All I could see was a dark house shape behind a bunch of thick, over grown bushes and trees. We went by pretty fast but I'm sure I saw something there.”

Max crossed his arms over his narrow boy's chest. He looked into his best friend's face, waiting for the crack of a smile that would give away the joke. Eddie makes up fantastic lies all the time and can't be believed about anything. No smile came. Eddie was telling the truth.

“How can a house, a house, be there sometimes and not be there other times?”

“I don't know, but it is,” Eddie said. He sat on the edge of Max's bed with an Iron Man comic dangling from his left hand. Max sat at his desk, across the room and in front of the window. Their backpacks lay on the floor near the door, forgotten. Max and Eddie had gotten out of school half an hour before and were just hanging out together. It's Friday afternoon and they plan to go to the mall and the arcade after dinner.

Max stared at his best friend doubtfully.

“Ok, so how did you even find this place?” Max asked.

“My brother told me about it. Kyle said he actually watched it as it appeared. It was the weirdest thing he'd ever seen.”

“Kyle's been dead for a couple years now though.”

“It was before he died, dumb ass!” Eddie said.

“Oh, duh. Sorry man,” Max said. Eddie's brother Kyle had disappeared three years ago. The family had only recently given up hope that he was still alive and would return to them. Kyle would have been sixteen years old by now and was two years older than Eddie. They were as close as brothers could be although they tended to drive each other nuts most of the time. Mostly it was little brother wanting to do everything that big brother did and big brother not wanting little brother constantly in his shadow.

“No problem, I've just been thinking about him a lot lately and I remembered what he told me about that weedy lot down on Delavan Street. He had heard about it from a friend at school and thought it was cool story. I think he told me about it just to be mean and give me nightmares,” Eddie said as he looked down at the floor.

Max was silent for a moment and then said, “Did it work?”

“What, the nightmares? Yeah. I was only eleven. I still slept with a night light then.”

This busted the tension. Max laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes.

Eddie looked up surprised by the laughter. He was slow to figure out what was so funny. But when he realized what a big baby he must seem to Max, he started laughing too.

“What a pussy! A fucking night light! Really?” Max cried through his tears and laughter.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” Eddie said amidst his own laughter.

“Was?! ARE! You're still a big pussy!”

“Hey now, I'll kick your ass any day of the week!” Eddie threatened, still laughing.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever...” Max said while wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his Quiet Riot tee-shirt.

“So, do you want to go check out this magic house?” Max asked.

“Yeah, the thought of the house has been nagging at me, it's like I'm supposed to look for it,” Eddie said.

“Whoo Ooo Oo! How mysterious,” Max said smiling.

“I know, it sounds stupid, but I want to find it. I've been dreaming about it,” Eddie said this last part a little shyly.

The truth is Eddie has been dreaming about the house, a house that doesn't exist, almost every night since Kyle disappeared.

“I don't know why, but I feel like I need to see it. But, I'm too chicken to go alone.”

“That's awesome,” Max said with a hint of laugh still in his voice. “Call your mom and ask if you can spend the night. We'll go check it out.”

“Shouldn't you ask your mom too?”

Max raised his chin and shouted at the top of his lungs. “HEY MOM, CAN EDDIE SPEND THE NIGHT?”

“WHAT?” his mom yelled from somewhere in the house.

“CAN EDDIE SPEND THE NIGHT?!”

“I DON'T CARE!”

“THANK YOU!”

No reply came back. Max looked at Eddie with one eyebrow raised. Eddie shook his head and smiled.

“I'll go call my Mom,” Eddie said.

Charlie’s Chop House

By Jesse Edwardson

The car entered the crowded parking lot. It drove slowly up and down the lanes looking for an empty stall. After several minutes, it finally took a spot in the parking lot of an adjacent business. It was quite a hike, as far as parking lots go, to the door of the restaurant. Tonight was a special occasion though, so no one minded.

“Okay guys, we're here,” Dad said as he turned the ignition off and looked into the rear-view mirror at the excited kids in the back seat.

“Yay!!!” they both cheered in unison. One boy and one girl, who looked like twins but were almost two years apart.

Mom smiled at her husband. “Happy birthday honey,” she said and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Thanks, babe. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she replied and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

She turned to face the kids in the back and said, “Okay you guys, are you going to be on your best behavior and use your manners?”

“Yes, Mom,” they said in unison again. It was clear that they have heard this question several times before.

“Alright then, let's get going. There is probably going to be a long wait. This place is pretty busy,” Mom said.

“Well, it's only been open for a few days. New places are always super busy for the first few weeks,” Dad said as he popped his door open.

They all got out of the car and started for the door. The family weaved through the cars, zigging and zagging. The night was clear and crisp. March had come in like a lion and winter still had a strong grip on the world. Their breath puffed in the cold air.

The son, who was a fantastic big brother, spotted the restaurant's sign. His little sister was still learning to read so he pointed it out to her and said, “Can you read the sign, Sis?” He was always doing this with signs and such. He enjoyed giving her opportunities to use her new skill.

She looked up at the front of the building and read the neon words there. “Charlie's... Chop... House... Good... People Meat... Good... Food.”

“Good job, but it says 'Charlie's Chop House WHERE good people meat good food.' The where must be burned out so it's not lit up,” Brother corrected.

“Oh,” she said. “Where good people meat good food.”

The son looked up at dad and said, “Dad, shouldn't the 'meat' be spelled m-e-e-t?”

“Yeah, but it's supposed to be a joke because this place specializes in steaks and burgers and such. Get it? Ha Ha,” Dad said.

“I guess so,” the boy answered. “But, it's kinda weird.”

“Yeah, it is,” Mom said.

They reached the door and the hostess opened it for them. “Welcome to Charlie's Chop House. How many in your party?”

“Four,” Dad replied.

“And your name?” the hostess asked.

Dad gave her his name and gathered his family around him in the crowded entryway.

“Okay, I have you down. It's going to be about a forty-five minute wait,” the hostess said with an is that okay? smile.

“That's fine,” Dad said.

The hostess walked away. Mom whispered to Dad, “She was kind of pale, wasn't she?”

“Yeah, I guess so. Maybe she doesn't get outside much.”

The packed lobby had benches lining the walls, stuffed with people. A small arcade area, with no room for anyone to play, filled one corner of the room. More and more people came in behind them and the hostess collected their names and checked them in. The family felt like sardines in a can.

The wait was long. The groups that came in ahead of them were called into the dinning room one by one. A bench became available and Dad lead his family to it. They all took a seat. The kids were rowdy in the noisy room, they were bouncing off the walls in excitement as the overhead speakers blasted Hotel California. After about an hour their name was finally called. They followed the hostess to their table.

“Here you are,” the hostess said when they reached a booth in the far corner of the dining room.

“Thank you,” said Dad.

Before Mom sat down she whispered something into the hostess's ear. She glanced at Dad and then nodded to Mom with a smile.

“Natalia will be your server tonight,” the hostess said as she handed out menus. “Can I get you all started with something to drink?”

“Yes, a Miller Lite for me, a glass of Cabernet for my wife and two chocolate milks for the little ones,” Dad said.

“Okay, Natalia will be right over with those. Thank you for coming tonight and I hope you enjoy your meal,” she said and then headed off to the bar to place their drink order.

“Well, I sure hope the food is worth that wait,” Mom said. She tried not to sound grumpy but failed just a little.

“It will be. I've heard a lot of great things about this place,” said Dad.

“At least I got out of cooking tonight so that's a plus,” Mom said with a smile and a wink at the kids. They winked in return and giggled.

Mom looked around the room and asked, “Hey, where do you think the exit is in this place?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the whole time we were waiting I saw a ton of people come in but no one left,” Mom said with a puzzled look.

“Really? I didn't notice,” Dad said. “By the way, you didn't tell that lady it was my birthday or anything did you?” He asked, smiling.

“Maybe,” Mom said with a sly grin.

“Oh boy,” Dad said, already embarrassed, anticipating the corny birthday song that would soon be sung to him by the waitstaff.

The parents got the kids settled. Their place mats had pictures to color and games to play printed on them. They each had a small box of four crayons to use laying on the table next to their silverware. All of these themed restaurants have place mats like these anymore. It's a good thing, it gives the children something to do while they wait for their food. With the kids all set, Mom and Dad had a few moments to absorb the atmosphere and wait for their drinks.

“This place is pretty interesting,” Dad said as he looked around the room at the decorations that covered the walls. The usual old pictures, license plates and knick-knacks adorned everything.

“Yeah,” Mom answered. “Are those meat hooks hanging from that cable up there?”

Dad looked at the ceiling, “Um yeah, I think so. What is that over there?” Dad said pointing in another direction. “It looks like a bunch of knives all fanned out in a circle.”

“It sure looks like that's what it is,” she replied. “Is it supposed to be pretty?” Mom asked. “Because it isn't.”

“I guess so,” Dad answered. He was just about to point out what appeared to be surgical tools hanging on another wall when the waitress arrived with the drinks.

“Hello, my name is Natalia. I will be your server this evening. Are you ready to order?” the waitress announced as she set the family's drinks in front of them.

The girl standing before them, delivering their beverages, wore an all-black waitress uniform. She was tall and very thin. Mom thought she looked impossibly thin as she looked her over. Her skin was pale, like the hostess', almost to the point of appearing to be gray. She wore little make-up, just some dark eye shadow, red lipstick, and a touch of blush on her cheeks. It helped her gray complexion, but not much. Her hair was straight and long and the darkest black Mom had ever seen. It was tied up in a beautiful red satin ribbon that weaved through the hair in a lattice pattern. It reminded Mom of something she had seen in an old painting once. The girls voice was rather musical and had a light accent, it sounded European or Russian. It was such a light accent that it was hard to place. Her hands looked very delicate with long fingers and long, red painted nails. They looked like the hands of a magician.

“And, for you ma'am?” Mom heard Natalia ask as she snapped out of her reverie.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Mom said blushing. “I guess I was day dreaming.”

“It's quite all right ma'am,” Natalia said with a smile that just barely revealed the tips of sharp pointed teeth. Mom didn't notice, she was finally looking at the menu.

The daughter noticed Natalia's teeth, though.

Mom looked up and down the menu quickly trying to find something to order. She was embarrassed about how she had been caught staring at the waitress. The items on the menu were definitely named by an overactive imagination. She saw something called Hot Chick Sandwich in the poultry and fish section. Something called Chairman of the Board and Employee of the Month in the steak section. And something called Spicy Italian Bus Driver in the in the sub-sandwich section. Mom felt rushed and couldn't concentrate enough to figure out what the menu items actually were so she just gave up and looked at Natalia and asked for a cheeseburger and fries.

“Hey that's what we're having,” Dad and the kids said in unison. They laughed at themselves.

“Excellent,” Natalia said. “Would you like the chef to drag it through the garden also?” Natalia said as if this phrase were new to her.

“Yes, please,” Mom answered with a smile, knowing that Natalia had just learned a new term for 'put everything on it' from the man sitting across the table from her. Dad and the kids were still giggling.

“Ok, I will have this out to you as soon as it's ready. Please and thank you,” Natalia said with a small curtsey and walked away.

“Please and thank you?” Mom asked her husband with eyebrows raised as she brought her wine glass to her lips.

“Yeah, I know right?” Dad answered. “I don't think she's from around here. She sounds Romanian or something.”

“Or something is right,” Mom agreed.

“Daddy, I drew a picture for you,” The daughter said, tugging on Dad's sleeve and holding up her place mat

Dad took it and looked at it. “What is it baby?” he asked his daughter.

“It's the scary lady that gave me my chocolate milk, silly,” she answered with a proud smile on her face.

Dad stared down at the picture. Mom leaned forward over the table to look too. Together, they saw a picture of a tall, thin, black figure with black eyes, a red mouth and long red claws for hands. She drew streaks of red crayon running from the mouth and down the thing's throat and onto its black clothes. There were also dots of red falling from the things fingers and puddles of red at its feet. Both parents shivered at the same time. They looked up from the drawing and toward each other with wide eyes and gaping mouths.

Dad gulped and turned to his daughter and said, “Well, of course it is honey. Good job!”

The daughter glowed with pride.

Mom glanced over at her daughter's crayons and noticed the black and the red ones were worn down to nubs. The green and yellow ones were still unused.

“We understand that somebody has a birthday to celebrate,” Natalia said. The whole family jumped. They didn't see her walk up. Natalia tried to stifle a giggle at their reaction but failed.

“Yes, my husband's,” Mom answered with a little crack in her voice.

“Well, we would like to sing him a birthday song!” Natalia said as the rest of the waitstaff gathered around, smiling.

“Everyone, can I have your attention please. We have a birthday to celebrate! Please sing along with us!” Natalia announced to the room. Every face in the restaurant turned to look in their direction. Some faces were smiling, some faces looked dazed and confused as if singing a birthday song in a restaurant was new to them.

A chubby busboy took a pitch pipe from his pocket and blew into it. The rest of the waitstaff hummed the note and took a deep breath before they started their song.

Happy happy birthday, we hope you enjoy your food!

Happy happy birthday, aren't you glad it isn't you! HEY!

They all clapped and laughed after they finished their short song. The family clapped too but Mom and Dad didn't laugh. They shared a puzzled look with each other. The crowd dispersed and the other customers returned to their food.

Still laughing and clapping, Natalia looked at Mom and Dad and said, “Your food should be right up.” She walked away.

Dad looked at Mom and said, “Aren't you glad it isn't you?! Just part of the motif I suppose, huh?”

“I guess, but that is the weirdest birthday song I have ever heard,” Mom said.

“Um, yeah,” said Dad.

In a few minutes, Natalia returned with their dinners. Four cheeseburgers dragged through the garden with fries. She gave each of them a smile as she placed their plates in front of them. Her pointy teeth showed, but none of them seemed to have noticed.

“Ok, I hope you enjoy you dinner. I will be back with refills of all your drinks. Please and thank you,” Natalia said and left.

The food smelled fantastic. Mom and Dad each helped one of the kids put ketchup on their burgers and fries and then dug into their own meals. The burgers were the best tasting they had ever eaten. The meat had a rich flavor that they have never experienced before. The toppings were fresh and crispy. The fries, well the fries were just fries nothing special about them.

Natalia returned with their drink refills and said, “Does everything meet your expectations?”

“More than meet them. This is the best burger I have EVER had!” Dad exclaimed. The rest of the family nodded their heads in approval.

“Well, good. Excellent,” Natalia said. “Is there anything else I can get for you while I am here?”

“Actually, can I have an iced tea?” Mom asked. “This wine is very good but I'd like some iced tea while I eat if it's no bother.”

“Oh, no bother at all,” Natalia said. The emphasis on the word bother indicated otherwise. She picked up the wine glass, put it on her tray and headed toward the bar.

Mom looked at her husband and said, “Did I detect a slight attitude there?”

“Maybe a small one. Maybe she's had a long day,” Dad said.

“Well I don't think that's my problem,” Mom said. Her anger was obvious.

“This burger is seriously the best I have ever had,” Dad said trying to change the subject.

“I know,” Mom said losing her anger a little.

“It's like nothing I've ever had before. The meat is so rich. Almost like it's a mix of veal and pork or something. It's SO good!” Dad said and then turned to the kids. “Do you guys like your burgers?” They both nodded and smiled around their sandwiches.

Mom's heart was softened by this exchange. “Are you having a good birthday honey?”

“Yes! You're the best,” Dad answered as he reached across the table and gave his wife's hand a squeeze.

They stared at each other a moment longer and then got down to business on their food. Within ten minutes their plates were empty. Then, at almost the same moment, Dad and Son leaned back in their seats and rubbed their stomachs while letting out a satisfying burp. Like Father like Son, Mom thought and smiled to herself.

“Hey, where's your iced tea?” Dad asked, suddenly realizing Mom's drink never arrived.

“I don't know. It's okay though. I'm ready to go anyway,” She said.

“Okay, well, she should be bringing the check pretty soon,” Dad replied.

“I hope so,” Mom said.

In a short time, Natalia did bring the check.

“Here you are,” She said, putting the check in front of Mom. “ I hope your dinner was exceptional.”

“It was, and could I ask you something?” Dad said.

“Of course.”

“We all ordered the same thing, but I forgot what it was called?”

“It was The Customer's Always Right and it is our most popular burger,” Natalia answered, smiling.

“Oh, right. That was it! No wonder it's so popular, it's delicious!” Dad exclaimed.

“Yes, it is. It is one of my favorites as well,” Natalia said. “When you are ready, you may go through that door in the corner and pay the cashier,” she pointed at a door that the family hadn't noticed until now. “It has been my pleasure serving you this evening and it is my hope that you will tell your friends about us,” Natalia said this with a smirk that made it obvious that she didn't really mean it.

“We will, and thank you for taking such good care of us,” Dad said, obviously forgetting about the iced tea that never came.

“You are very welcome, and I will enjoy you very much. Please and thank you,” Natalia said with a smile and a curtsey before walking away.

“What did she say?” Mom asked Dad. “I will enjoy you very much?”

“I'm sure she meant to say 'I have enjoyed you very much,'” Dad said with a peculiar look on his face as if he hoped he was right about what he had said. “You know foreigners, they're always mixing up words when they speak English.”

“Yeah, you're right,” Mom said.

“Ready to go guys?” Dad asked the kids.

“Yup,” they answered in unison.

“Thanks again, honey,” Dad said to Mom as they got up from the booth.

“You're welcome,” she answered. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

The family made their way through the crowded restaurant toward the door. They were all in a great mood. The food was fantastic, the service was good. Creepy, but good. Everyone was happy. They reached the door, paused to put on their coats, and then pushed through the exit.

The four of them entered the exit lobby and saw a small, shriveled old lady sitting on a stool behind a cash register on a small counter. She glanced up from something she was reading when they entered the small room and stared at them blankly.

Mom approached the counter and offered the bill. The old woman snatched it from her hand without speaking. She looked at it and punched some buttons on the cash register then looked at Mom with empty eyes.

Thrown off by the woman's silence, Mom presented her credit card to the cashier. “Here you are,” she said.

The old hag took the card and slid it though the reader and handed it back to Mom. Her expression remained blank the whole time. The receipt printed, and the woman tore it from the machine and handed it to Mom with a pen.

Mom took the pen and receipt, jotted down a generous tip, and totaled the transaction on the slip and handed it back to the old woman. The woman handed Mom a copy of the receipt and then returned her attention back to whatever she had been doing before they entered the room.

The whole transaction lasted only seconds but was one of the most uncomfortable moments of their lives. Mom and Dad looked at each other with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. The look silently communicated, 'Let's get the hell out of here.'

The kids were oblivious to this whole exchange between the adults and were waiting impatiently by the door that must lead to the outside. Mom and Dad joined the kids and pushed their way through the door.

On the other side of the supposed exit door, the family was shocked to find themselves in a brightly lit room lined with ceramic tiles and furnished with stainless steel tables. The tables were the kind you might find in a medical examiners autopsy room.

Mom and Dad were grabbed from behind and the kids were whisked away through an adjacent door.

“How sweet, fresh meat,” a rough voice whispered in Mom's ear. She screamed.

Dad struggled to free himself from his captor. “Let go of me you son of a bitch!” he yelled.

A voice whispered in his ear, “Actually, I'm not a son. I'm just a BITCH!” It was Natalia. She held Dad across the chest in a bear hug with one arm. She was impossibly strong. Her other arm was raised. In her slender hand she held a straight razor. It flew through the air and across his throat as quick as a lightning strike. The blood poured from Dad's open throat and soaked his clothes like a waterfall. He grabbed his neck in a futile effort to save own his life.

Mom watched this happen through blurry eyes as her tears and screams flooded her senses. Dad's dying body was carried to one of the tables by two black clothed men and strapped down. His movements and struggles slowed as the blood flowed from the wound. The cut across his throat looked like some kind of weird mouth that was spitting blood. Natalia yelled orders to the others in the room to gather as much of his blood as they can. She was thirsty.

As her minions collected Dad's blood in stainless steel pails that hung from beneath the table he rested on, Natalia dropped on all fours and began to lap up fallen blood from the floor. She looked like a human dog lapping up red water. She crawled across the floor, following the trail Dad left behind him, making sure that she didn't miss a drop. She paused briefly to bark out an order to strap Mom to a table.

Mom was dragged, kicking and screaming, to another steel table adjacent to the table that Dad's lifeless body now rested. She was strapped down quickly only catching glances of the person doing the strapping. It was the pudgy busboy that had blown the pitch pipe for the birthday song. He looked down at her while he did what he was told. His face was empty of emotion.

With his task completed, the fat busboy left the room.

Mom struggled in her bindings. She screamed incoherent threats, cried worries about her children and the word WHY? Over and over she cried, WHY?

Natalia rose to her feet when she had reached Dad's table. She then walked, almost slinked, across the room toward Mom. Her face held a look that was pure lustful hunger. She leaned in close to Mom's face, her vampire teeth now fully visible. Her lips were coated with a thin layer of blood. One stray drop rested on her chin and was slowly creeping it's way down toward her neck. Natalia lunged with her open mouth toward Mom's throat in a playful manner. She clearly enjoyed this game because she giggled to herself in a playful, childish manner.

The carnage on Natalia's breath, a dark coppery smell, filled Mom's nose. She struggled to keep herself under control, but could feel her gorge rising in her stomach.

“Why is this happening?” Mom asked the pale, yet pretty monster that leaned over her.

“It's my break time and I'm RAVENOUS,” Natalia answered.

“What are you doing to my kids you BITCH?” Mom screamed in Natalia's face.

“Oh, don't worry about them. They will be on the kids menu tomorrow,” Natalia crooned as she lightly stroked Mom's face with her long finger.

Mom's eyes opened wide as complete understanding flooded her with shock and horror. The strange decorations in the restaurant, the funny names of meals on the menu and that strange birthday song.

Natalia smiled, as if to a lover that had just promised their undying love. “Yes, we are the hungry ones, who feed the hungry ones to the hungry ones. We take what we need and well, you know the rest.” She lifted Mom's chin fully exposing her throat and said, “I have enjoyed serving you this evening. And, by the way, I didn't forget your iced tea. I didn't bring it because it makes your blood taste funny...” Natalia's final words were just a whisper as she nestled her face into Mom's exposed throat and plunged her teeth deep into soft flesh. Mom's body jerked and her eye's fluttered as Natalia's teeth broke the surface of her skin. The blood flowed at once. It filled Natalia with a freshness of life that always took her by surprise. Her satisfaction was apparent as her eyes rolled back into their sockets.

After taking her fill, Natalia wiped blood from the corners of her mouth and sucked it from her fingers. She carried a deeply satisfied look on her gentle face and walked to the door that the busboy had escaped through. She knocked and spoke. “Wayne, please come and collect the meat.”

The chubby busboy entered the room. He glanced toward Natalia, subservient and fearful. He took hold of the table holding Dad, another slave collected Mom and they rolled the parents into the kitchen.

Natalia watched them leave. When they were gone, she did a curtsy and then spoke under her breath, because this was her private ritual, “The customer is always right. Please and thank you.” She giggled.

The End?

Note; The phrase “Yes, we are the hungry ones.” is a tribute to Ray Bradbury. It was a line in the film version of his story “Something Wicked This Way Comes” It was spoken by Mr. Dark, the carnival operator and apparent demon who feeds upon people's pain and misery. I kind of cheesed it up by adding the rest but I think it works well for this story. The line “How sweet, fresh meat.” is borrowed from one of the “Nightmare on Elm Street” movies. Thank you Freddy Krueger LOL.

This story was mainly inspired by the horror comics published by EC Comics such as “Tales From The Crypt” and “The Vault of Horror.” The idea for this story occurred to me while Debi and the kids and I were waiting to be seated at Red Robin. We were out to celebrate my birthday. I happened to notice how people kept piling up behind us. Of course people were also making their way out with Styrofoam boxes full of leftovers but I wondered “what if no one was leaving as new people kept arriving, where would those people be?” So, I decided that the people who never left were feeding the new arrivals.

Home

By Jesse Edwardson




I know they say you can't go home again
I just had to come back one last time
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam
But these handprints on the front steps are mine

The House That Built Me - Miranda Lambert

She was told by the insurance man to meet her at the house at three o'clock but she arrived at two. She needed time alone with all that she had lost.

The days first tear slid silently down her cheek as she walked up the driveway.

The house had been a dream come true for Tina. It was fairly old, built in 1940, but she had fallen in love with it at first sight. The previous owner had performed a lot of updates including a new heating and air conditioning system, a water softener and a deck on the back of the house that was great for entertaining friends. The interior had been extensively remodeled with new flooring, light fixtures and paint. It was “move-in” ready.

Moving day was amazing, extremely busy but still amazing. She had never owned anything before. She had rented plenty of apartments in her life up until now. But this time she owned it. It was all hers. She remembered unlocking the door and stepping into the front room carrying the first box into an empty house, empty and waiting for the new life it would hold. She knew she was Home.

Now, standing in the littered driveway, Home felt dead. The house was half destroyed by fire. The fire investigator had determined that an electrical short in the house’s old wiring had caused the fire. “Just one of those things as they say. It was no ones fault, these things just happen.” He had told her. She was probably supposed to take some kind of comfort in his words but she couldn't find any. It might be easier to handle if she could blame someone or something. If she could point her anger and sadness in some direction she could get rid of it faster. Instead, all she can do is wade around in all that emotion until it finally drains away. If it ever drains away.

The driveway runs up the right side of the house to the garage that is set back from the rear of the house. Between the two buildings was a breeze-way that offered a great shady spot in the summer and protection from snow in the winter. It now lays scattered in charred pieces on the concrete. A pathway was made through this debris by the fire-fighters. Tina walked through this trail to the back door and pushed it open.

The inside walls were impossibly black from all the smoke. She didn't step in all the way, the firemen warned her that the floors may not be stable and could collapse at any time so she only leaned in to take a look. Her tears were flowing freely now. She felt as if someone had died. Her heart hurt, her head throbbed and her knees felt weak.

Everywhere she looked was a memory. She could see the spot where her son's highchair stood when he sunk his face into his first birthday cake. She could hear all the laughter of that day ringing in her head. She could see the notes and pictures, now charred and black, still hanging on her refrigerator. The small table and chairs in the breakfast nook were there looking like something from a horror movie. The paint was hanging off the walls in giant sheets. It looked like peeled black blisters.

“Thank God we got out in time.” she said to herself in a low whisper. The night of the fire her son was spending the night at a friends house and she was sleeping when her boyfriend shook her awake. The fire traveled through the walls and burned from the inside out. The smoke detector never had a chance to go off. It had melted from the heat behind the wall. Brad had gotten up to use the bathroom and saw the flames flickering on the outside of the house through the window. He woke Tina up and they hurried out before the house was completely engulfed in flames.

Tina stepped back out of the door way and pulled the door shut. She turned around and saw a man and a woman standing in the driveway. The man was a little overweight with graying hair, the woman was a beautiful red head. She recognized them at once.

“Oh, Hi. I didn't see you there.” Tina said as she tried to wipe the tears off of her face.

“That's ok, I'm sure you've got a lot on your mind right now.” the man said as he gestured toward the burned shell of a house. “We shouldn't have snuck up on you like this.”

“Yeah, sorry. We just happened to be driving by and thought we'd stop and take a look at the house.” The woman said. She seemed a little shy and embarrassed for Tina. The couple were James and Lisa, the people Tina had bought the house from. The truth is, they felt drawn to the house as if some force had pulled them here. “We heard about the fire on the radio. We feel so bad for you. We know how special the house was to you, as special as it was to us while we lived here I guess.” In the days after hearing the news of the fire, James and Lisa could not stop thinking about the house that they use to call home. The couple had shed some tears themselves. James once told his wife that he feels as if a close family member had died.

“It's so sad, we feel as though we lost something right along with you. Just like you, this was our first home. Lots of memories lived within those walls,” James said with a slight crack in his voice.

“Thanks, yeah lots of memories,” Tina said while wiping a new tear off of her cheek.

Lisa stepped forward and put her arms around Tina and gave her a hug. Even though the two women hardly knew each other the hug felt natural and was something both of them needed. James stood by and tried not to let his own tears fall.

Just then, James heard footsteps behind him. He turned and couldn't believe what he saw. It was an elderly couple, a woman with gray hair done up in a tight bun and a narrow bird-like face walked carefully through the debris strewn driveway with an old hunched over man walking with a cane. James knew them although he hadn't seen them in over twenty years.

“Mr. and Mrs. Clark? Is it really you?” James said clearly surprised.

The two women turned their heads at the sound of James' voice and released each other from their embrace. Lisa recognized the name but had never met this couple in person. The couple were the people that James and Lisa had purchased the house from so many years ago.

“Yes, and you are John?” Mrs. Clark replied.

“James.”

“Oh yes, James. I'm sorry. My old noodle isn't as quick as it used to be.” Mrs. Clark said.

“That's ok, How are you two?” James asked.

“We're fine, just fine,” Mr. Clark answered.

James was dumbstruck. He thought, what are the odds that we and the Clarks show up here at almost the same time. He stared at them in amazement.

“Tina, this is the couple we bought the house from. Mr. and Mrs. Clark.” James introduced them.

“I'm sorry if we are intruding but we felt compelled to come here today. Are you the owner young lady?” Mrs. Clark asked Tina.

“Yes ma'am. My name is Tina, I'm glad to meet you.” Tina said as she put out her hand to shake with Mrs. Clark.

“I'm very glad to meet you too,” she answered. “We are so sorry for your loss. Losing your home is something very heartbreaking.”

“Yes, it has been very hard to deal with.” Tina said.

“I'm sure. Your family is all safe I pray?”

“Yes, thank God. My son was at a friends house and my boy-friend woke up in time to get us out safely.” Tina said.

“That is good.” Mrs. Clark said with a smile.

“Young lady, you have lost a great deal here but I hope you know that you are very fortunate that a house and some things are all that you've lost.” Mr. Clark said with a kind smile.

“Yes, I know.” Tina said. She was touched by these people's kindness. She felt as though they were all a kind of family. They did all share a home together after all.

The small group stood in the driveway for a while. Talking, telling stories about their lives spent in the house. They laughed and shed a few tears together.

In a short time more visitors showed up. The people that the Clarks had bought the house from were there. A man who had rented the place before that came by. The couple who had rented the house to that man showed up shortly after him. Then, a man who was the son of the people that the owned the house before them came by. He had grown up in this house and told the ever growing group that he had felt something pulling him home. They all felt that pull.

Something was bringing them all home.

More stories were exchanged: baby's first steps, birthday parties, Superbowl parties, all the things that make a house a home. Someone’s Aunt had fallen down the steps to the basement. Apparently she had dropped a dollar on the landing and bent over to pick it up when she rolled down the stairs. She didn't get hurt, only embarrassed. Someone else told a tale about their kids making a huge mess with baby powder all over the floor of the nursery. Everyone laughed. The kids had played dumb, as if they had no idea how the powder had gotten all over everything. Tina felt her heart lighten with each story. She no longer felt alone with her loss.

The man who had grown up in the house told a story that his father passed down to him about the man who had built the place. His name was Willard Jenkins and he had built the house for his wife Ellenore. Mrs. Jenkins died before the house was finished and Willard had died shortly after it was finished. He had lived in the house alone for only six months or so. The rumor was that he died of a broken heart. He and his wife had dreamed of filling the house with children but of course that never happened.

Everyone in the group was quiet as he finished the story. They all looked at each other and felt a strong kinship. This place was all home to them. Other houses had come and gone in all of their lives but when they heard the word home it was this place that came to mind first.

Just then, Tina noticed a new arrival walking up the driveway. It was a man in his mid-twenties. He looked as if he had just stepped out of the 1940's. He was dressed in brown pants, a faded blue long sleeved work shirt. A brown fedora rested on his head. He reminded Tina of Harrison Ford in the Indiana Jones movies.
He approached the group, nodded to them and walked on. He went straight to the house. He appeared to be looking for something.

Tina thought, doubtfully, that maybe he was the insurance man finally showing up. “Sir, are you from the insurance company?” she called after him. He didn't answer he just continued looking at the corner of the house near the back door.

He began feeling around the burned and melted siding. His strong fingers found a gap in the corner piece. He pulled on it and it came away from the house with a cracking sound. He dropped the vinyl siding to the ground and peered at the exposed wooden siding beneath. His fingers traced something carved into the wood. He smiled to himself and looked thoughtful as a tear slid out of the corner of his eye. His hand lingered on the carving for a minute or so before he dropped it back to his side and faced the group. He walked directly to Tina.

By now she was sure that this man was not the insurance guy. He looked as though he had stepped out of the past and she felt as though he belonged to this “family” that was assembled in the littered driveway. Her own tears had started flowing again as he touched her chin and raised her eyes to his.

She looked into his kind face as he spoke. “Don't be sad, this home was filled with life and love that we all will carry forever.” Tina smiled and he smiled. He gently wiped away the next tears that escaped her eyes with the back of his hand. The man nodded to her and turned to face the group and nodded to them. He then started back down the driveway.

Everyone watched him as he walked away. They all wondered who he was, but at the same time they all knew who he was. As he reached the sidewalk he began to fade. At first the people standing around Tina could see through him and then they could only see his outline and then he was gone.

Where the man had disappeared a new visitor was marching up the driveway. In his suit and carrying a briefcase he was obviously the insurance man Tina had been waiting for.

Everyone looked at each other in amazed disbelief. Tina turned toward the house and walked to the corner that the man had pulled free. She saw, carved into the wood siding, a heart. It looked as though it had been made with a pocket knife. Carved inside the heart were the initials W.J. + E.J. Tina smiled as fresh tears filled her eyes.

The Devil’s House Band

By: Jesse Edwardson


Johnny Rock has never felt a groove as sweet as the groove he was digging tonight. He and his band, Johnny Rock and the Rollers, were only twenty minutes into their first set and they weren't missing a beat. Sydney the bass player, who Johnny thought looked a little like Bob Ross, that painter guy on TV, was playing with his eyes shut. A sure sign that he was in the zone. Robby the drummer, who was usually drunk before the gig and passed out after the gig, was playing sober and keeping things tight. Ziegler, on keyboards, was already breaking a sweat. They were all feeling the groove, and so was the crowd.
The dance floor was packed with sweaty bodies gyrating to the sounds of the band. Johnny could see everything that happened on the floor from his spot on stage. Girls dancing with only their friends and trying to ignore the guys, guys dancing with their empty beer glasses trying to look cool, and couples who seem to have it all figured out by dancing real close together, Johnny watched it all from behind the mic. He really got off on seeing people enjoy the music he and the band played. It made all the time spent learning to play the guitar worth while.
The band was reaching the end of the song they were playing. Johnny hoped the dance floor wouldn't clear out like it sometimes can at the end of a good song. Dancing people get thirsty and through all of the years playing in bars and nightclubs Johnny has always felt that the band and the bar were caught up in a kind of “tug-o-war” with each other, using the crowd as a rope. The funny thing was though, “last call” always came before the last song of the gig so in a way the band always won the fight.
“Alright, is everyone having a good time?” Johnny spoke into the mic as the last chord of American Band rang out. The crowd cheered back their answer. “Good, good, we are Johnny Rock and the Rollers and let's keep the groove going and the dance floor full with a great Rolling Stones song that's asking for a little Sympathy for the devil!” Johnny announced into the mic.
Robby started drumming the intro. Johnny began singing and Ziegler came in with the piano right on cue.
As Johnny finished the opening line “Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste.” he noticed a door in the back of the club open up. The door was at the top of some stairs. It must be the office of the club owner, Johnny thought. A tall, thin man stepped out onto the landing. He was wearing a pure white suit complete with a vest and a black silk tie. It looked very expensive. The man pulled the door shut and crossed his arms. He stood there on the landing and watched the band.
Johnny caught his eye. The owner gave Johnny a quick wink and slight nod of his head. He nodded back. The owner smiled. Johnny thought maybe the man was feeling the groove just the same as the band and the crowd were. There is just something sublime about a sweet groove.
“Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo,” Sydney and Ziegler came in with the backing vocals and for once they were singing in key. Johnny gave Ziegler a smile of approval, Ziegler winked back. He thought the night couldn't get any better. The dance floor stayed packed and the band was tight.
He glanced back up at the owner. He was still standing with his arms crossed and he was still smiling but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Johnny thought he looked a little creepy. His teeth were blazing white, just like his suit. His eyes looked black, just like his tie. Johnny didn't recall seeing this man earlier when they were setting up their equipment.
And that was when something in Johnny's head clicked. He couldn't remember setting up for the gig. He couldn't remember playing Johnny B. Goode, the song they always open with. He could, however, remember driving here. He remembered arguing with Robby about who was a better drummer, Keith Moon or John Bonham. Then he remembered swerving to miss a dog that was in the middle of the road. He could remember the sound of the tires screeching and finally he remembered seeing a big tree filling the windshield and that was it.
Johnny looked out into the crowd and could finally see, really see everything as it really was. The Glamour had been lifted. Everyone on the dance floor looked exhausted and miserable. He couldn't spot one bartender at the bar. Every glass, every bottle in the joint was empty. He looked over to Ziegler and saw his life long friend staring back at him with horrible fright. Ziegler had already realized what was happening. Sydney, with his Bob Ross beard, kept the backing vocals going like a man who couldn't help himself. “Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo,” he and Ziegler sang in unison. Johnny wasn't quite sure what was really going on but they needed to stop playing. He now felt as though he had been playing non-stop for days.
Johnny was at the climax of the solo and tried to stop playing his guitar. His hands wouldn't obey, they kept right on playing with well practiced skill. His arms ached and his throat felt like he had been breathing fire instead of air, but he could not stop playing or singing.
He looked back up the staircase at the owner. He was still smiling. In his head, Johnny heard the voice of the man at the top of the stairs. “Now you understand. You are mine and you will keep playing that song until I grow tired of it. But don't get your hopes up, it is my favorite.” The owner opened the office door and entered. The last of him that Johnny saw was a thin red tail coming out from under his suit coat. The tip of the tail was shaped like a barbed spear point.
The band played on.
“Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo, Whoo,”

Alone in the well? part three

By: Jesse Edwardson

Richie’s teeth began to chatter, his lips were turning blue, and whatever was in the well with him began to caress his legs.  It felt slimy and every time it touched Richie he would kick and let out a scream.  He knew that it had to be some little fish or something like that, but he couldn’t help being terrified by it.

Through the top of the well, twelve feet above him, he could see a small patch of sky.  It was darkening, he figured it had to be getting close to supper time.  Grandma had probably already called everyone in to eat, and by now they had to know he was gone.  Hopefully someone would be out looking for him soon.  He was near exhaustion.  The chunk of wood he was clinging to was helping him stay afloat, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last.

The truth of it was hypothermia was rapidly draining Richie of his strength.  The snow that had covered the farm all winter had only melted away three weeks ago.

Below the surface of the water Richie felt the fish, or whatever it was, bump his left leg again, this time just below the knee.  It seemed to wrap itself around his leg just briefly before he kicked it off.  His kicks were becoming weaker and weaker.  Soon he won’t be able to kick at all because of the icy water.

“HELLLLLLP!” he called out.  “GET ME OUT OF HEEERRE!”

“No one’s coming,” he whispered.  “I’m a goner.”  More tears ran down his cheeks.  Richie rested his head on the chunk of wood and wept silently.

Just then, the thing in the water wrapped around his leg and pulled him down.  The water filled his ears and mouth again, and just as quickly as it pulled him down, it let go.  He bobbed back up coughing and grabbing for the chunk of wood.  His fingers found it and he pulled it tightly to his chest.

“AHHHHHH! cough, cough, cough.  HELLLLP!”  he yelled again.

“Boy, how in the hell did you wind up down there?” a familiar voice called down from the top of the well.

“Grampa!  Get me out of here!  There’s something in the water and it’s trying to get me!” Richie called with tears of relief streaming down his face.

“Alright Richie, calm down.  I’m gonna have to head back to the house and get some rope.  Can you hold on just a little longer?”

“Yes, I think so.  But hurry, I’m freezing and something just pulled my leg!”

“Alright alright.  I’ll be right back.” Grandpa said as he got back to his feet and started running back to the house.

The old man has never run so fast in his life.  He got back to the house, found a rope in the utility room, and quickly explained to everyone where he found Richie.  Of course everybody wanted to follow grandpa back to the well and help, but he told them all to sit tight and eat their dinner.  Grandma ran to the bedroom, came back with an afghan, and handed it to grandpa.

“That boy has got to be half froze.  Make sure you wrap him up in this and carry him back.  I bet he won’t be able to walk too good after a fall like that,” Grandma said with tears of worry in her eyes.

“I will dear,” Grandpa said as he went back outside.  He paused briefly to grab his flashlight that he keeps by the back door.  The sun was almost below the horizon now.

By the time Grandpa returned to the well, Richie was pulled down three more times.  Each time he was held down just a little longer than the last.  The panic was overwhelming.  Richie was sure he was going to die the third time.  The thing had grabbed both of his legs this time and held onto him tightly for almost a full minute before finally letting go.

In the middle of a coughing fit, a bunch of rope fell down onto Richie’s head.  He looked up to see Grandpa shining a light down at him.

“Richie, grab a hold of that and wrap the loop on the end around you real tight and I’ll pull you up!  Ok?” he called down.

“Ok,” Richie answered.  He found the loop in the rope and put his arms through it.  His arms felt so heavy.

“Have you got it around you boy?”

“Yes!”

“Ok, brace yourself.  I’m gonna start pulling you up.  If you bounce against the wall just try to walk up it like spider-man.  That will help me a lot,”  Grandpa instructed Richie.

“Ok Grampa.  Please hurry I hate it down here!”

“I bet you do,” Grandpa chuckled as he set his feet.

Grandpa started pulling and the rope bit into Richie’s armpits, but he barely felt it.  His small body slowly started to rise out of the cold water.  Grandpa grunted as he pulled the rope hand over hand.  Luckily for Richie, his grandpa is as strong as an ox.

Just before Richie’s feet left the water, the thing grabbed his right ankle.  It’s grip was so powerful this time Richie thought it would pull him back into the water.  Above, Grandpa struggled with the rope.  It felt like Richie had gotten heavier for a moment.  He let out a short grunt, pulled a little harder, and Richie started to rise again.  Below, just as his foot slipped out of the things grasp, Richie thought he heard a small voice say Don’t leave me, I want to play…

Richie did the best he could to keep the panic under control and try to climb the wall as Grandpa had told him to.  As he neared the top, he could smell fresh air.  It was as if he was smelling it for the first time.

When he reached the top, Grandpa let go of the rope with one hand, grabbed Richie by his shirt, and pulled him onto the ground.  His footing slipped and he kicked the flashlight into the well.

The flashlight tumbled in the air as it descended into the well.  It’s light beam swept down one side and up the other.  It hit the water with a splash and slowly began to sink into the murk.

The flashlight passed through the water casting an eerie green glow.  As the flashlight sank, it’s glow illuminated a shape in the water.  A face, clearly female and quite young.  The eyes were closed, but then opened when the flashlight cast it’s glow upon them.  The open lids revealed milky grey eyes.  Startled by the light, she covered her face and darted into the deeper depths of the well.  The last thing the flashlight shone upon before blinking out was her checkered dress and her patent leather shoes.

the end

Alone in the well? part two

by: Jesse Edwardson

While Richie was panicking in the well, Grandma called from the back door toward the barn.  “Supper is ready everyone!  Come and get it!”  The kids charged out of the barn in a stampede.  Grandma smiled and moved aside to let the herd of children rush into the house.

“Now, all of you warsh your hands and and we can dig into this wonderful food your Grandma has made for us,”  Grandpa said from his favorite chair in the living room.  Half of the kids went into the bathroom to clean up and the other half crowded the kitchen sink.  Grandpa got up and crossed the kitchen toward his wife and gave her a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.  She blushed.

“Ok everybody get settled, find a chair.  Amy, can you put Tyler in the highchair for me?” Grandma said as she put a platter of fried chicken on the table.

“Sure Grandma,” Amy answered.  “Where’s Richie?”

Everyone looked around the room.  “Maybe he’s still hiding in the barn,” Bobby offered.

“I’ll go look,” Grandpa said as he put his old worn out cap on his head.

“Well hurry, I don’t want your dinner to be cold for you,” Grandma said.

“I’m sure he’s just hiding in the hay loft, we’ll be right in.”

The screen door slammed shut behind Grandpa as he stepped out onto the porch and trotted out to the Barn.  He called Richie’s name as he entered the dusty and silent barn.  The old owl that lived up in the loft was startled by his voice and flew out through the hay door.  He probably thought he could have the barn to himself again since the kids left.

“Richie!  Are you in here?” he called.  No answer.  The setting sun shone through the barn windows lighting up a million dust motes floating in the air.  “Where is that boy?” Grandpa asked them.  Of course the dust had no idea where he was.

He stepped out into the barnyard and called Richie’s name again.  Still no answer.  “I wonder if that boy wandered out into the woods,” Grandpa said to himself.  He headed for the woods calling out the boy’s name.  He was beginning to get worried.

Alone in the well? part one

By:  Jesse Edwardson

This story is dedicated to my aunt Mary Day, better known as Mickey, because she is AWESOME!!!

The old boards seemed to disappear from beneath Richie’s feet.  What they really did was fall into an old well, leading the way down for the small boy.  The largest piece hit the cold water first, followed by a shower of the smaller bits.  Richie plunged into the water last.  He fell so fast, he hardly had time to gasp.

Completely submerged, the water filled his ears with gurgling silence.  The water was ice cold.  Panic took hold of him.  He began kicking his feet and flailing his arms searching for a handhold or something to stand on.  All he found was slimy stone walls and floating  bits of wood.  Richie managed to pull his way to the surface.  He was a decent swimmer for a ten year old.  He could doggy-paddle with the best of them.  He grabbed hold of a board and coughed out a mouthful of water.  The well water tasted awful.  If green had a flavor, then this water tasted green.

“HELP!!!” cough, cough.  “HELP!!!” he cried.

It was useless to yell.  He was the only one out here in Grandpa’s woods.  The other kids were still playing in the barn.  They were all playing hide and seek.  Ritchie left the barn to hide because he was tired of always being found first.  He wandered out toward the woods and planned to hide behind a tree when he fell through the old boards that covered the old well.

“HEEEEELP MEEEEE!!!!” he screamed at the top of his lungs.  His voice bounced off the stone walls of the well and only succeeded in hurting his ears.  He yelled for help over and over again but the barn was too far away and there was no way the other kids would hear him.

He was winding up for another scream when he felt something in the water bump against his foot.

“AAHHHHH!”  he yelped in surprise.  “What was THAT!?”  He started kicking his feet and looking over his shoulders trying, in vain, to see what was below the dark surface of the water.  It felt as if something reached up from the bottom of the well and tried to untie his shoes.

“HEEEELLLLLP MMEEEEEEE!!!!  GET ME OUT OF HEERRRE!!!”   he cried again over and over.  When he finally stopped screaming, the silence fell heavily into his ears.  The well became as quiet as a well kept secret.

Again he felt a tug on his shoelace.  He pulled his foot back and tried to swim away.  Given the limited space he couldn’t go far.  Whatever was in the water followed him and tugged again at his shoelace, this time on the other foot.  He kicked both of his feet frantically under the water and started to cry.  Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as he shouted again for help.