“It was a baby.”
Without a word, Butch and Willie dropped their eyes.
“All right, now you can tell me exactly when you knew that jar contained a fetus. Because, when you brought it to me you had no clue what was inside, but you were expecting the smell that was in the jar. I saw you both back up after you handed it to me.”
Hoping to turn the discussion away from the foul smell, Willie admitted to overhearing his conversation on the phone when he came back into the room for his backpack. To his dissatisfaction, Simmons continued as though Willie had not spoken. “And this wasn’t the only jar that you found either. Because, in order for you to have known what it was going to smell like, you had to have already opened the jar.” Both hands hit the desk as he leaned forward, “The jar you gave to me was still sealed.”
He sat quietly, letting them think about what he had just told them and what he knew.
Finally, Willie spoke up. “Yeah, there was another jar.”
“Where’s that other jar now?”
“We put it back on the shelf,” Butch said and inhaled a deep breath, knowing he had said too much.
“All right. You need to tell me where you really found those jars. I know you didn’t find them in a vacant lot like you said you did.”
“Are you gonna tell the police on us?” Willie almost gasped his question.
“Depends on how involved you are in the killing of an innocent baby,” Simmons told them, not bothering to soften his words.
Anger shoved fear to the side as Butch jumped to his feet. “What the fuck you talking about? We didn’t kill any baby!”
Simmons ignored him turning his attention instead on Willie. “Were you involved in killing those little babies?”
Willie shook his head.
“Willie, Butch,” his voice took on a caring tone, “I know you didn’t have anything to do with killing innocent babies, but I had to make sure you weren’t indirectly involved.”
“Thanks for almost making us shit our pants!” Willie turned hostile eyes on the man grinning at him.
The grin disappeared as a man walked into the room. “Boys, I invited a friend of mine to stop by the classroom today. He’s here to talk with you about the jars.”
Butch slumped down in his seat. “Yep, we’re going to jail.”
“Hello, boys.” A tall slender man dressed in a dark brown shirt, pale tie and jeans held out a hand to each in turn. “I’m Detective Todd Jenkins, and no, you are probably not going to jail.”
Simmons and the detective heard the relieved sighs and tried not to laugh.
“I’m going to be up front with the two of you,” Jenkins told them, seating himself on the edge of Simmons’s wide desk. “Since you are both minors, I really shouldn’t be talking with you without your parents being present. So, if you don’t want to talk with me until your parents have been notified, tell me now and this discussion is over.”
Willie and Butch looked at each other, trying to think if they wanted their parents to know they were guilty of trespassing and stealing, or have them here to protect them from the detectives.
“Todd,” Simmons spoke up, “I have the jar with the fetus here in the classroom if you’d like to see it.”
“Yeah, I would, and I’ll be taking it into evidence.”
Simmons pushed back his chair. “Come on, they’re in the back of the room.”
“Now what are we gonna do?” Butch whispered, glancing back over his shoulder as the two men walked down the aisle.
“He still has no proof we didn’t just find the jars in a vacant field like we said.”
“True, but he has a pretty good idea that we’re lying.”
“If you’d stop holding up your hand and all but begging him to let you tell him all we did, maybe he wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t think.” He dropped his head in an attempt to hide the bright blush creeping over his face.
They heard the men coming back up the aisle and they straightened up in their seats.
“What’s it going to be boys? Are you going to come clean about where you really found the jars, or do we close this discussion and call in your parents?”
Simmons swallowed his laughter at the other man’s theatrics.
“We already told you we found the jars in the field downtown.” Willie stood, pulling books into his backpack.
“Yep, that’s where we found them.” Butch moved to stand beside his cousin.
“All right then, I guess we call your parents and set up a meeting,” Jenkins said, his dark green eyes losing the friendly sparkle.
“Are we excused, Mr. Simmons?” Willie looked at his teacher.
“Yeah, you’re both excused. We’ll talk tomorrow in the presence of your parents.”
“Let’s go, Willie.” Butch gave the detective a brief glance before turning toward the door.
They could feel the stares of both men watching them.
***
Seated in the back of the bus, they tried to think what they were going to tell their parents about what was going on.
“I guess all we can hope for now is that a bolt of lightning hits our house and we get burned to a cinder before tomorrow,” Butch whispered.
“I still don’t know what to tell our parents about all this. If we tell them the truth, we could be going to juvie and if we lie, that old woman is gonna come some night and kill us in our sleep.”
“Do you really think she’s a witch like she said?”
“She has to be. If she ain’t a witch she couldn’t get so far from her house that quick. She’s an old woman!”
“I bet she’s at least 100 years old.”
“Yeah, at least. The only thing missing’s a wart on the end of her nose.”
“Holy shit!” Willie grabbed Butch’s arm. “She could come into our room at night and turn us into something that our mom and dad wouldn’t even know is us. Then, they would kick us outside or shoot us! You know how my dad’s always playing with guns!”
“She could.” He tried to quell his fear as visions of a three-horned monster shot into his mind.
“She looked just mean enough to do something to us too.”
“I bet she knows by now that we took the jars. For as long as they were on that shelf, there has to be an imprint where they were.”
“I wouldn’t doubt she can hear what we’re saying right now.” He looked around the bus as though he expected her to be hanging from the roof and peering into the window. “She might even have a crystal ball she can look into.”
“What are you two talking about?” Jo Ellen, a girl in their class, turned around to stare at them.
“Just boy stuff, Jo Ellen. You wouldn’t understand,” Butch told her, flicking his hand in dismissal.
“You’re weird, Butch.”
“Why? Because I don’t think what we’re talking about is any of your business?”
“No, because you live near a haunted house.”
“What haunted house?” They both looked at each other and then back to the girl sitting in front of them.
Jo Ellen, glad to have captured their attention, bounded up on her knees to better see over the seat. “The old Prescott Mansion is haunted. Everyone knows that.”
“You’re so full of shit, you reek and it’s leaking out your ears, Jo Ellen. Turn around and mind your own business,” Willie told her. He hoped she couldn’t detect the fear in his voice.
“My brother told me that house is haunted, and he wouldn’t lie!”
“There’s no such thing as a haunted house, you idiot!” Butch whispered trying to ignore the stares of the other kids seated nearby.
“Oh yeah? You’ll see I’m right! Some night you’ll wake up and there’ll be a ghost standing right beside your bed just like there was beside my brother Danny’s bed.”
“What in the hell are you talking about, Jo Ellen?” Butch kept his voice low.
“My brother Danny went to that haunted house one night with his g
irlfriend and a ghost followed him home. He woke up and saw it standing by his bed.”
“You’re making this up.” Willie knew his voice was shaking now, but he couldn’t help it.
“I am not making it up. If you want you, can call my brother and ask him. He’ll tell you I ain’t making it up.”
“What did the ghost look like?” Butch pushed his face closer until they were almost nose to nose.
“Danny said it was a little boy. And he was crying. And he was all white and he glowed.”
“I don’t believe that. Why would a kid ghost follow your brother home anyway?” Butch scoffed at her. “He wouldn’t follow him to scare him, and that’s what ghosts do.”
“No, he didn’t try to scare him. Danny said he thinks he followed him because he wanted Danny to help him.”
“Help him with what,” Willie laughed reliving some of his tension. “Trying to find the sheet he was wearing when he left the mansion?”
“No,” Jo Ellen looked at them, “helping him because he was all crippled.”
Willie’s breath caught in his throat. “How was he crippled? I mean…what did he look like?”
Butch held his breath, hoping she didn’t tell them what he already knew she was going to say.
“Danny said the boy only had one arm and that the other arm had no hand. And one of his legs?”
“Yeah?” They both said at once.
“It ended in a stump.”
Willie jumped as the bus driver called his name.
“Coby are you gonna catch your bus or what?”
Willie grabbed his backpack, then waited, letting Jo Ellen go ahead of him down the aisle. “Talk to you later tonight, Butch.” He called back over his shoulder.
Butch sat back in his seat as the bus pulled away from the curb.
He tried to stop the terror mounting in his mind at the images popping into his head of a little boy, crippled and glowing in the dark.
Did the boy really follow Jo Ellen’s brother home as she said, or did the old witch send him there to scare Danny and his friends away from returning?
The thoughts grew darker as he sat glued to his seat with nothing to do but think and imagine.
If she sent one of the ghost kids to scare someone just for being at the mansion, what would she do to them for stealing the jars?
Chapter Seven
A grotesque dance of withering limbs, caught in the glow of a full moon, played out against the night sky.
A mist, creeping over the lawn, moved steadily toward the big house sitting in its path.
Willie and Butch tried to keep walking, but their legs did not want to cooperate.
“I feel like I’m walking in a lake,” Willie groaned looking around.
Butch echoed Willie’s words with a silent nod.
“What are we doing here? I don’t remember you spending the night with me.”
“I went to bed in my own room.”
“Then how did we both end up being here?”
Butch stood still, looking around. “Something ain’t right here, Willie. We’re asleep, but we’re both having the same dream.”
Willie let out a yelp as a large black crow, that had been flying overhead, swooped down and flew right through his body. “We’re dead! Aw shit, Butch, we’re both dead. Our bodies are in our beds, and our spirits are here with the little ghosts kids!”
“Willie! Willie!” his voice grew stronger. “I don’t think we’re dead.”
“You just saw that crow fly right through me. It couldn’t do that if I wasn’t a spirit.” Willie could hear the terror in his voice, but he couldn’t stop. “We’re gonna spend the rest of eternity here with the kids that haunt this house.”
“Did you come to help us?” a small voice spoke into the silence.
Both boys looked to where they heard the voice and saw a young boy standing across the way.
“Oh shit!” Willie groaned. “I told you we’re dead.”
“Will you stop saying we’re dead? We’re not dead. I think we’re having an OBE. I think that’s what Donna called it.”
“A what?”
“An OBE. An out of body experience. Our spirits are taking a trip out of our bodies.”
“And this is where we picked to take a trip to?”
“I don’t know why we’re here, but I doubt we’re the ones who wanted to come here.”
By now, the boy who had called out to them was joined by other children.
“I think this is our chance to find out what happened to all these kids,” Butch said.
Willie remained silent.
“Can you come closer?” Butch motioned them forward, then spread his hands wide in an appeal to get their trust. “You can see we’re spirits just like you. So we can’t hurt you.”
The children walked slowly toward them until they were within arm’s reach.
“How did you die?” asked a little girl with long black hair.
Butch was about to tell them they weren’t dead, but something told him he should just play along. “We don’t remember how we died. Do you remember how you died?”
“We got real sick,” she said, stepping forward to take Willie’s hand. “What is your name? My name is Pricilla.”
“Willie.” He forced himself not to pull away. “That’s uh… that’s a pretty name. What’s your last name, Pricilla?”
“I never knew my last name. None of us did.”
“That’s very sad,” Willie told her taking her other hand into his. “Have you always lived in this house?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “We liked it here,” a wide smile spread across her six-year-old face then disappeared, “`til they started hurting us.”
Butch stepped forward. “Who hurt you, Pricilla?”
In an instant her face changed from a normal child talking with a friend to one of complete terror. “We have to go now,” she whispered, backing away.
“No, don’t go.” Butch tried to keep her with them. “You were going to tell us who hurt you.”
But they were already disappearing into the shadows.
“I wonder what scared them into wanting to leave?”
“Oh fuck! It’s time we got out of here too, Butch!”
“Why?” He didn’t like the tone of Willie’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
All Willie could do was point as he backed away.
Butch looked to where he was pointing and his heart all but stopped in his chest. There, standing in front of the house, was the old woman who had chased them the day he and Donna were trapped in the bus.
“Come on, Butch, we gotta get the hell outta here. Now!”
Before Butch could take a step, the old woman moved across the lawn and was now holding fast to one of his arms.
“Did you think you could come here, and I wouldn’t know?” she hissed in his face.
“Let me go!” He tried to pull away, but she held him fast.
“Now you are going to join the ghost children. They will be glad to have new playmates.” She laughed; the sound was shrill and high-pitched.
“You better let him go, you old bitch!” Willie ran forward ready to do battle.
“And what will you do if I don’t, boy?”
“I’ll tell the police about you killing all the ghost kids.”
“No one will believe you. They will say you are making it all up. You have no proof.”
“We got proof!” Butch yelled, his chin jutting out defiantly. “We got some of the jars you put the dead babies in.”
Instantly she dropped her hand. “So you did take some of the jars.” Her voice had lost its gloating tone, and both boys were surprised to hear fear.
“You will leave here. And if you’re smart, you will never step foot on these grounds again.”
“Don’t worry we won’t.” Willie turned to leave.
“And if we do come back, what are you gonna do?”
“Butch! Come on! She’s letting us go.”
“She don’t scare
me. She ain’t got no magic powers. She’s just an old crow who can’t do nothing but try and scare a couple of kids.”
Willie opened his mouth to speak, but her next words froze them in his throat.
“Quiet!” One arm shot out in his direction. “Your friend thinks to make me a fool. He does not know what a dangerous game he plays.”
“He won’t play anymore games, lady, I give you my word.” Willie was all but crying his fear was mounting so fast.
“I ain’t scared of this old bitch, Willie. She can’t do nothing!”
At that moment, the same large crow that had flown through Willie’s body earlier swooped down to perch on the old woman’s shoulder. Its beady eyes stayed focused, watching Butch as he stood before them.
“That’s scary. Crow on crow.” He glanced over at Willie to see his supportive grin, and looked away as Willie’s face showed only his mounting discomfort. “Okay, Willie we’ll go.” He walked over to drape an arm around Willie’s thin shoulders. “As long as she knows we ain’t afraid, I guess we can go on home.”
The old woman remained where she was watching them.
“Why’s she just standing there watching us, Butch?” Willie leaned in close.
“I don’t know, but I hope she ain’t casting a spell on us.”
“We gotta get outta here. She could be getting ready to turn us into something that ain’t human!”
“If we could wake up, our spirits would get back to our bodies and we’d be okay!”
“God,” his eyes shot skyward, “you gotta do something. This evil old woman’s a witch, and she’s about to hurt one of your children!” Willie screamed this as loud as he could.
“Yeah, God, get her. Turn her into a pillar of salt like you did…that woman…what was her name? Willie…what the hell was that woman’s name who turned around after God told her not to and got turned into a pile of salt?”
“I can’t think of it either but, it don’t matter anyway because look.”
Butch turned and was surprised to see the crow sitting on the fence. The old woman was nowhere to be seen. “Where’d she go?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Long as she ain’t after us anymore. Hopefully God took her to hell where she belongs.”
“Now all we gotta do is figure out how to get back into our bodies and wake up in our beds.”
The Hay Fort Page 5