Mich
sat inside the speakeasy drowning his conscious in the rotgut booze
made out back by Frank Delano. He was listening to the songstress
belting out rhythm and blues while begging the Lord for mercy because
of her devious ways. He stared at her. Her pecan skin and plumb lips
quivers as she sang, “I need forgiveness from you”, while hitting
the high note. When the song ended, Mich walked up and put five
one-hundred dollar bills into the jar labeled Inaskye's Swear Jar.
Inaskye looked at the jar now full of money and picked it up. “Hey
Candy Man.” She gestured with the jar. “You need forgiveness?”
She picked up a lace shawl and put it around her shoulders.
He
looked at the woman and she walked off while looking back. “Come on
then.” He followed her to a backroom.
The
dark shape followed the woman back to her SUV and stood in the
shadows. The dark shape was watching and waiting. Waiting for
opportunity. The dark shape's need to expose and destroy the woman
grew inside with each glance of her. No one would have her.
The
shape never saw it coming. The ghost appeared from behind and began
to merge into the dark shape's physical being, holding still the dark
shape's form. The apparition encircled her arms around the dark shape
and began to squeeze. The ghost let go and the dark shape was flung
through the air near the clapboard house it was standing next to. The
dark shape could feel its soul being ripped from its body. The mouth
harboring the last scream, began to crack and the eyes bulge. There
was a thud to the body. The dark shape was impaled into the boards of
the house by the straggled breathing of a stag, pushing the dark
shape deeper into the wood until the wood bowed. There were gurgles
as the stag pulled itself away with the dark shape hanging from its
horns. Shaking the dark shape like a rag doll, the dark shape slipped
free to bleed out on the ground. The ghost hovered above. The ghost
turned and moved to where the dark shape stood to see the woman
safely get into her SUV and drive away.
Inside
the clapboard house, Minnie Miller could hear noises outside.
Burglars again. She picked up her 38 revolver from the place she
shoved it between her knitting needles and yarn. She slipped on her
fuzzy house shoes. She took a first glance outside the window. She
didn't see the body lying underneath the window. She went outside
onto the porch and walked to the end where she heard the noise. She
saw a body under he window, took aim and let a bullet fly.
“If
you're not dead. You are now!” Wait until all her friends down at
the local Senior's club learn how she thwarted a burglar or worse
yet, a rapist caught in the act. She waited to see if it moved.
Minnie walked back into the house and dialed 911.
The
911 operator came onto the line. “Hello, 911. What is your
emergency?”
Minnie
Miller straightened her flora printed moo-moo. “I would like to
report a dead body. At least I think it's a dead body. Right outside
under my window.”
Eli
returned to the area where Hugh took a spill out the deer stand.
Night occluded the day and the sounds of the woods began to make
their mark on the silence. He wanted to know what was going on. He
asked Mich to meet him but Mich had a prior engagement. He wondered
why Correlia had not returned his call. He called her twenty times so
far. He was beginning to worry.
Eli
knew Correlia's stand was not to far behind her father's house which
abutted the area the three men had hunted days earlier. He always
liked to be close by so if she shot something he and the boys could
help her load it up. He walked through the woods to see if he could
find her stand. When he got to the lean-to he pushed the nylon screen
aside and scooted inside. He sat down and found a journal scrapbook.
He wondered should he do some investigative work and spy on what
she was into. He thought not to but curiosity got the better of him.
He opened the journal and found deeply personal information written
in its pages. Some of it disturbed him. He found the entry from days
ago to find some photos of Correlia and Hugh trying on wedding
dresses and tuxedos. Eli snorted and thought those two. Why would
she leave this behind? Eli sat there for a moment then began to feel
a little worried. No, this wasn't right. Something wasn't right here.
He got up and crawled out. He looked in different directions. He saw
a light off in the distance and began walking towards it. He lost
track of the time, but walked a short distance through the woods. As
he got closer to the edge of the woods, he could see the shape
standing. As he stopped, the time it took for the apparition to
transverse the distance knocked Eli down as the ghost screamed the
wail of a Banshee. He yelled and got up to run but no matter where he
went it was there. It growled and moved back to the edge of the woods
then disappeared.
Eli
recovering his composure crawled across the ground to stare down the
path leading to the open area. Woman's things were hanging from
tobacco string in the limbs of the trees. Puzzled yet oddly pulled,
he got up and walked to the edge of woods to see Old Man Pierce out
in his back yard hanging his daughter's things in the trees. It was
strange behavior. Eli saw something flutter from the clothes line. It
was lace of some kind. He then began to wonder if Old Man Pierce had
gotten wind of what his daughter was planning?
Rachel
Gray Owl lay on the porch soaking up the night air. The sounds of
frogs interrupted what would otherwise be a quiet night. Her Auntie
Mallory sat beside her in a white wicker rocking chair. She pulled
the Peruvian blanket over her feet. The blanket was one her Aunt had
given her after purchasing it at a local pau wau. Red Threads were
woven as a background with the image of white fish swimming in a blue
and yellow geometrical shape. The borders reached out to the edge. It
brought her comfort.
Her
Auntie Mallory stared out into the night sky.
“Rachel,
do you think you need to go to the Elders? Talk to them about your
troubles? I think it might help you.”
Aunt Mallory picked up her glass of sweet tea before removing a magazine from the small porch table. She was thankful for these quiet, cool nights. The mosquitoes were gone and she could engage herself in the sounds of nature while perusing the latest bird and flower magazines. Spring was going to be there soon enough and she had to prepare for the planting. Bulbs, yes that would be nice she thought, some real Dutch bulb from Holland.
Rachel was silent inside her blanket. She thought about the course her life was taking. She didn't like it. She use to believe activism was for the greater good yet she ended up fighting with everyone that had a difference of opinion. Was life suppose to be this way? The constant case of battling with everyone while no one solved the problem. Her Aunt Mallory discarded the current magazine for a fashion magazine.
“Auntie
Mallory, I have never tried to be pretensions on my attitude. It is
what it is. People want to judge me. I am trying to do good in the
world. If it weren't for Correlia Pierce, I would have no problem.
She is more of a problem for me with her killing animals and posting
her images online. Who does she think she is?”
Auntie Mallory looked away from her scrutiny of the latest runway fashion.
“Rachel
dear, you can't help what you feel passionate about. I would tell you
that when questing after anything there are going to be obstacles.
You have to fight the good fight. Not everyone is your enemy. Stop
looking for people to validate your suspicions of them and pushing
them away. Just take this investigation to find your half-sister who
was adopted out at birth. You haven't given up on that. I hope it
doesn't disappoint you.”
A
wine colored SUV slowly made its way down the woodland path to the
Gray Owl Residence. Amber Jennerett flipped on her high beams as she
coasted slowly between pine trees and oaks on the lonely drive. She
could see the light of the porch up ahead. She hoped Rachel was ready
to hear the results of her investigation. She lived in town and knew
the Gray Owl's well. She could see Rachel's Aunt Mallory and Rachel
on the porch. She sucked in her breath and took a drink of her soda.
Amber pulled up into the yard, parked the SUV and got out. She walked
to the other side and opened the door to retrieve a manilla envelope.
She shut the door. As she was walking up the drive she waved and called out, “Hello Miss Mallory.”
Rachel
Gray Owl motioned for Amber to take a seat in one of the wicker
chairs. Her anxiety and excitement began to mount the moment she saw Amber get out her vehicle. She
felt a chill in the air.
The
ghost was standing in the center of Rachel, Aunt Mallory, and Amber.
She wasn't sure why she was here but felt it important.
Amber
sat down and looked at Rachel.
“Rachel, when you first asked me to investigate this missing half-sister I wasn't sure if I would find her. I did find her and I hope you will understand that things don't always turn out the way we would like. Not that I am saying this is bad but I want you to keep an open mind.”
Rachel
didn't like the sound of where this was heading. “Oh God, is it
bad?”
Amber
looked Rachel in her eyes. “It will be a bit of a surprise to you.”
Rachel
glanced at her Aunt Mallory. “I am a big girl. I can take it.”
Amber
opened the envelope and pulled out some documents and a photo. She
handed the photo to Rachel. “This is your sister.”
Rachel
looked at the photo. Upon looking at it, she realized who it was and
put her hand over her mouth to stop from crying out. “No this can't be...”
Her
Aunt Mallory got up and looked over Rachel's shoulder. The suspense
was killing her. When she saw the photo she even looked at Amber in
disbelief. “Are you sure?”
Amber
flipped through the papers to find the birth certificate. “Yes.
This document confirms it. This little girl was taken from the
hospital and raise not to far from here. She never knew who her
family was. She thought her father was all the family she had. He was
a bad man from what I hear around town.”
Rachel
got up and walked off the porch. She couldn't digest this. She could
hear her Aunt's worried voice calling to her, “Rachel dear!” The
air was getting colder as Rach walked inside of the woods. She
began to cry erratically before falling to her knees and burying her
face in the leaves. The ghost kneeled down and showed herself to
Rachel.
Rachel
opened her eyes to see the angry face of the ghost dressed in lace.
She screamed, fell back, and began to scramble into a tree. She could
hear her Aunt Mallory and Amber calling for her. The ghost blazed.
The eyes were the most angry she had ever seen. Eyes of revenge,
retribution and fury. The ghost took a step then as if realizing
slowly back away evaporating into sparks that resembled fireflies.
Rachel turned her head into the tree. She didn't want to look up not
even when her Aunt Mallory began to pull on her shoulder.
“What is wrong with you child? What did you see?”
Eli
sat in his truck with his bottle of bourbon. He was crying while
smoking a cigar. The CD player came on. Ty Herndon's voice came from
the speakers. He looked up out of the front window. Coming through
the woods was the glow of a light, the ghostly woman.
The
radio was blaring the voice of Ty Herndon's bridge:
Ashes
to Ashes dust to dust
I'll
lay beside you forever in love
Eli
got out of the truck. He walked toward the visage. He started to run
towards it. The glow stopped.
The
music from the truck waif through the woods as it changed songs. Eli
stopped in front of the specter. She lifted her veil and let it fall
away. The ghost of Correlia stood before him. She put her hands out
and started to sing with the voice on the radio:
they say for everyone,
there's
that certain one
Out
there, somewhere......
Eli walked towards her. She was
dead, wasn't she? He thought about it for a second but decided he
didn't care. He walked right into her arms.
Correlia murmured. “I want you
to come with me.”
Eli pulled away. “I am not
dead.”
Correlia laughed and pointed to
the truck. Inside was Eli, dead with a burning cigar in his fingers.
Eli looked at the truck in his
usual realistic philosophy.
“I guess that solves it then. Can't say I'll miss it.”
Correlia softly laughed. “You
are as tart in death as you were in life.”
Eli grabbed her again and kissed
her dead lips. “Like I say, to be continued.....”
Written by: W Harley Bloodworth
~Courtesy of the AOFH~
