Both Paul and Darren looked at each other and just chuckled.
“Yeah…thanks…and…sorry about the shiner,” Darren said.
“It’s nothing,” Paul replied. “You should see the other guy!”
This brought light laughter from all three of them as the firefighters arrived. They rushed inside but returned quickly and came to Paul.
“You the guy who called in a fire?”
Paul nodded with a quizzical look on his face.
“Then…uh…well…excuse the line, but where’s the fire?”
The trio of Paul, Darren, and Louise looked baffled as the fireman led them back inside. As they shone lights around, sure enough, there seemed to be no evidence of new fire there. All that was visible was the old damage from years ago, though there was this telltale tinge of smoke in the air.
“Sorry, guys…” Paul said as he pondered what exactly had gone on just now. I smelled smoke and was sure there was a fire. I guess I overreacted.”
The fireman saw how panicked and unsettled they all were, so he just shrugged and had his men repack everything saying he would ignore the “false alarm.” After they left, the three moved back to the inside of the church and sure enough, as inexplicable as it seemed, there was no sign of a new fire anywhere. They all just sat and said nothing for a few minutes.
“Anyone got an explanation?” Darren finally offered.
“I…uh…” Paul began but stopped when Louise interrupted him to let him know she and Darren were well-versed in the ‘real story’ of the church, rumor or fact, depending on your interpretation.
“Oh. I see…” Paul replied as his shoulders sagged a bit. “And where do you stand on all of it?”
“To be honest, Paul,” she went on, “before all this, I was the last person on earth to buy into anything even slightly supernatural. But with Logan and his report of ‘Malcolm’ and now this fire that wasn’t? I guess you could say that has all changed. It seems to me that this place does perhaps have some supernatural content.”
“Aye.” Paul agreed as he nodded his head. “And that was all that I had in mind when I offered to buy it back from you. And then fiddled with all your stuff. Sorry about that by the way. I’ll help you clean it up. I…and a few others in town…are firm believers in the haunting of this old church based on the rumors. Call it my faith in the legend I guess. I was just worried about you. Did not want to see such nice people get hurt…or worse.”
“Was it you with all the bibles and crosses as well?” Louise asked.
Paul shook his head.
“Not me personally, but I suspect there were others in town that may have had a hand in that. But trust me, they had your best interests in mind…like me.”
“Like the town board rejecting our application?” Darren asked.
Paul just nodded.
Six Months Later…
With no more discussion or concerns of money, Daren and Louise walked away from the old church and settled into of the cottages in town that the property management agent Louise had spoken to showed them. All the people of Abberfield welcomed them with open arms, and everything was laid out on the table in the end once they became aware that Darren and Louise knew of the legend and rumors that were associated with the Abberfield Church. All seemed much relieved that they would not be occupying the old church. Darren and Louise even found out that they were not the first people to have come along since the old church had been abandoned back in the 1930s. Several had similar ideas of making over the old place, but had not been as fortunate as Darren and Louise. “Not as fortunate” was the only phrase used and they did not ask for any further elaboration. To Darren and Louise, nothing more needed to be said.
Soon after relocating into town, Ava regained her former bubbly and outgoing personality, often just blurting out whatever was on her mind at the time, regardless of the situation or the audience. It never seemed to bother the locals who soon embraced her lively personality with laughter and warm consideration.
“She’s a pistol!”
This was the most common phrase heard among them in reference to young Ava. As to Logan? Well…Logan pretty much stayed the same as he had been after the move which was fine with Darren and Louise. He never showed any more signs of autism, which was a relief, and continued on in the vein he had assumed months earlier of being just a normal, happy, even gregarious little tyke. From time to time Logan would lapse back into his old introverted ways, but these times were rare and lasted only a few moments as far as Louise could tell. And best of all, there was no more mention of his friend, Malcolm. Both Darren and Louise assumed that if in fact, the specter of Malcolm was real, that he had remained attached to the church and would not be bothering them again.
Louise’s teaching position continued to go well, and there was nary a child anywhere within Abberfield that did not rave about their time in Mrs. Baker’s class. Darren was able to salvage most of the material he had acquired for the renovations at the church, either through a resale to colleagues or incorporating them into other projects on his own plate. As far as they were concerned, they had no regrets in coming to Abberfield despite all that happened and the bit of a hit that their finances had taken. As Darren finally conceded:
“It’s just money. We’ll get it back in time…”
The friction that had arisen between Darren and Louise during the church renovation ordeal was long forgotten, and Louise often remarked to her female friends in Abberfield that their relationship had never been stronger…perhaps because of going through it and coming out in one piece. Her friends both smiled and grimaced at that remark as some were well-aware that others had not been so fortuitous. Darren never again mentioned the church project or even pondered the what ifs…well sort of.
In a town meeting, the board, of which Darren had now become a member, decided that it was time to remove the pall of the old Abberfield Church once and for all. The decrepit structure was a safety hazard as well as a minor fire risk, and besides…they all felt that if the building went away that perhaps the stigma of what had been rumored to have happened there would as well. With Darren’s background, they enlisted him to organize and carry out a final and thorough demolition of the church. With some reluctance, Darren agreed to take this on, though he knew the return to the site would likely bring some bad memories to his mind again.
As soon as spring flipped over to summer, and the ground had softened up, Darren brought a small team of workers out to the church, and the razing of the eerie stone church began in earnest. Fortunately, time and fire had done a lot of work for them already, and the remaining stone and timber edifices fell with only minimal assistance. Darren watched with mixed emotions as he saw what he had one day assumed would be a magnificent home toppled and carted away. The whole demolition was uneventful and took just a few days, and Darren was preparing to oversee the last of the leveling of the site when one of his workers came to him, pale as a ghost—if you will forgive the awful metaphor. The man had been a colleague of Darren’s for years and one of the few select professional friends that Darren had with whom he had related the whole sordid story of what he and Louise had gone through.
The man had been operating a backhoe over near the cemetery and motioned for Darren to follow him there. He said nothing as they walked, knowing what he had to show Darren would likely speak for itself. As they neared the side of the graveyard closest to where the church’s foundation had been, Darren looked over to see that the man had inadvertently backed over and exposed a few of the grave sites.
“Really sorry, Darren. I screwed up,” the man said as he pawed the moist soil with a boot.
Darren hated to see the sites disturbed, but he also knew things like this happened from time to time, and certainly the mushy ground had not helped.
“No worries, Phil. Let’s just put everything back as well as we can.”
“Sure…sure…but there’s one thing you need to see before we…uh…fix it.”
Darren
followed Phil as they moved beyond the initial damage and he just pointed to an unearthed casket. Phil stood back and let Darren take a closer look. The casket was, unfortunately, popped open, and the headstone associated with it was leaning up against it. Darren stooped down and read the stone:
Malcolm Anderson
1905-1935
Darren felt his heart skip a beat and despite the warmth of the day and the sweat on his brow. It was like a cold draft had just passed over him. He glanced over at the casket and eased back the lid which was already about a third of the way off, having been dislodged by the backhoe. Darren felt the blood fall from his face as he looked into an empty casket. No body, no skeleton, not even any old clothes or even a burial shroud…just empty space…
The Pet Store
By Riley Amitrani
Prologue
24th September 1972
The Old Pet Store
Maine
5:24 pm
“Thank you for your purchase, and look after Smokey, he’s one of my favourites,” Ged Morgan said to the mother and child. He ruffled the beagle puppy’s head as he carefully placed him inside the cage. He waved goodbye as they went out the front door of the store, the little girl struggling to hold the heavy cage. Ged went over to the window and cheerfully waved goodbye to them as they got into their Chevrolet parked out front. He carried on waving until they got to the end of the road and turned off.
‘The Old Pet Store’ was one of the most popular stores in town. In the window, he displayed his cages of the cutest poodles, Irish setters and dachshunds. The puppies, when not snuggled up asleep were constantly yapping at each other. When children walked past they would want one straight away. The store smelled of milk and newborn puppies. The radio behind the counter was always on, and today was fittingly playing Donny Osmond’s song called Puppy Love. Ged had glass jars of sweets behind the counter too, for the children who visited, and a pot of coffee always ready for the adults. He always wore a crisp shirt and bow tie and a white apron. He was well known for running the popular store.
Once Ged was sure they had driven away his smile dropped in an instant. He closed the blinds so no one could see inside. He went over to the front door and turned the sign to closed.
“Will you all shut up!” He shouted at the puppies. He kicked one of the cages with his foot. He went to the back of the store into the stock room and slammed the door behind him. The back of the store was different compared to the white-washed walls and charming displays out front. This room was dark and full of junk. Ged went over to a cluttered desk and picked up a lighter, he took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He held onto it with his lips as he used both of his hands to roll back a moth-eaten rug from the floor to reveal a trap door underneath. A stench of rotting meat and urine came up into the air as he lifted the wooden door. Ged recoiled and paused to take another drag from his cigarette. Once settled, he started to walk down the stairs.
Downstairs was a large, low ceilinged room lit by a single bulb. In the half-light, he could just see the rows and rows of rusty metal cages. Ged walked past them, dragging a metal rod along them as he went. Inside the cages were dogs who whimpered and growled at the sound. He liked taunting them. He went over to the corner where there was an old cupboard. He opened the door and looked on the shelves. They were empty. He opened the next where there was one crumpled bag of dog food in a damp corner of the cupboard. He opened it up. There was mould on some of the dry biscuits. He ignored the mould and started to pour it into small metal bowls. There was only enough for a small bowl per animal, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to give them any of the quality stuff they sold in the store. He opened the cages one by one and put the bowls in, then topped up the other bowls with water. The cages stank, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had cleaned them. The dogs weren’t toilet trained. He told his buyers that they were, but he didn’t see the point. If they came back and complained, he convinced them that they were at fault. He would sell them books on puppy training and get even more money out of the suckers.
He went to the last row of cages, which were stacked from floor to ceiling. The dogs inside weren’t the pedigree breeds like the ones he sold in the store. These were the mongrels and strays and runts. The ones that no one would buy. Pet lovers claimed they loved animals, but Ged had learned over the years that most people only loved the cute ones. These dogs he reserved for another purpose.
He was quick…just open up a cage, take an old bowl out, and put a new one in. He was used to avoiding being bitten. He opened a cage and put his hand in, but as he did, he felt liquid on his hand. It was urine from the cage above.
“You worthless ass!” he shouted, looking up at the culprit. It was a white poodle with one eye who shook with fear when he raised his voice. He took his hand out of the cage and shook the cage above as the animal whimpered. Ged felt something brush against his leg. He looked down at the now empty cage below. A dog had escaped.
“Damn. Here doggy, come back.” He ran to the basement door and lifted it shut. He couldn’t risk one of these mangy dogs getting loose. If it escaped and one of his customers saw the state of it they might call the police. With the door shut the room was even darker. He looked in the shadows. He couldn’t see the dog. He walked up and down the rows of cages. The dog wasn’t there. He looked towards the dark corner of his desk. He went up to it and pulled the chair back. It was heavy and covered in piles of old papers. He bent down to look under the desk. It was empty. He heard a growl and the sound of footsteps behind him. The dog ran up to him and sank his teeth into his backside. Ged yelped like an animal and stood up, banging his head on the desk. He fell back down to the floor. He reached out and grabbed the metal pole and tightened his grip around it. He turned around and faced the dog. It was a German Shepard; big, male with patches of hair missing and rotten teeth that he bared as he snarled.
“You’re going to regret that!” Ged said. The dog jumped up and aimed his teeth at his neck. But Ged was quick. He bought the pole down hard on the dog’s head. It fell back and hit the floor. He stood on the dog’s neck, pinning him to the floor and started hitting him again and again with the metal pole. He did it again and again until he could feel no resistance against his foot. He stood there panting, not used to such physical work. A ringing sound came from above. It was the doorbell. He stood still for a moment. He couldn’t have been heard, could he? He crept to the trap door and pulled it open and started to creep up the stairs.
“Mr. Morgan, can you open the door please?” He heard a voice shouting through the letterbox. He looked down at his work apron. It was splashed with blood. He took it off and used a clean portion to wipe the sweat and blood off of his face and neck.
“Just a minute,” Ged called in an overly happy voice. He picked up a can of aerosol air freshener and sprayed it in the air to mask the smell of the room below. He closed the trap door and covered the rug over it.
“Dad?” A face appeared at the top of the staircase which ran between the store and the back room. His boy Ged Jr. stood there.
“Get back to sleep, or you’ll meet the end of my belt.” Gen hissed. The boy went back into a room and shut the door behind them.
Ged went to the front door and looked outside. He could see a man standing with his back to the door. He was wearing a police uniform. Ged opened the door.
“Good evening Officer, what can I do for…you!” Ged’s frowned as he recognised the face of the man. “Mike? You’re a cop? Not what I was expecting.”
“Yeah, just let me in ok?” Mike said. Ged let Mike in. “I need two big ones.”
Ged nodded and took Mike to the back room. “Police officer by day, dog fighter by night. Who’d have thought?” Ged said laughing to himself.
“We all have to let off steam after work. I’m not the only one on the force up to no good,” he said. Ged went back downstairs and bought up two cages each containing a large, strong dog.
Mike
lit a cigarette. “The car’s around the back,” he said, not offering to help.
After loading up Mike’s Mustang with the dogs and taking an envelope of cash off of him, Ged went back down to the basement. He saw the pool of blood in the corner and the lifeless body next to it. He swore repeatedly. That was a big, strong dog he could have got good money for. Now he was worthless. Ged scratched his head, wondering whether to bury or burn the corpse when he glanced over to the empty food cupboard. He got another idea. He took a large knife off of the wall and started to skin the dead body. This would solve both his problems. He wouldn’t let the rest of his assets get hungry.
Help us Make a Difference
22nd September 2017
Kingswood University Campus
Maine
9:18 am
“Help us stop animal testing at Hawkins laboratory. We just need your signature. You could make all the difference.” Frances Riley called out. “Help us stop animal testing.” She called out to someone else. She held a leaflet out to a passer-by who shook his head, avoiding eye contact. A woman walked up to Frances.
“Hi, would you like to sign our…” Frances started to say.
“Do you know where Square C is?” The woman interrupted. Frances pointed in the direction. The woman walked off not even bothering to thank her.
“It’s early in the day, people are worried about finding their lecture halls and getting to class on time,” a man said next to her. She turned around. It was Gareth, her new friend and founder of the animal rights society. Let’s leave the petition here and go get brunch. Frances nodded and followed Gareth to the campus canteen. After queuing up to get their food, she joined him at a table where a girl she didn’t know was seated.
“They have tofu scramble on now,” Gareth said to the woman. She had long green hair and was reading a geography textbook whilst eating a bagel.
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