“I bet when we wake up, this’ll all be like a bad dream and that’s what we’ll believe it was.”
“Too bad we can’t program our minds to remember what happened here. Then we would know better than to ever come back here again.”
“I think God will remind us what a close call we had. He don’t forget his children.”
“Yeah, I believe he takes care of us, too, but I bet it would be a lot easier on Him if he didn’t have dumb asses like us to worry about.”
At the same time, they began making their way down the path away from the house. They had only taken a few steps when Willie turned to look behind them.
“What’s wrong? Why are you looking back to the house?”
“I keep getting the feeling someone’s following us.”
“Probably that fucking bird. The way he sat on her shoulder all cozy like; he’s probably her only friend.”
“Or someone who used to be her friend until she changed him into a crow!”
“Damn it, Willie, why’d you have to go and say that? I was starting to feel better about being here now that she’s gone.”
“Is she gone, Butch, or is she just invisible? If she could change us into something else, she should be able to change herself into something that we can’t see.”
***
“Bless me Father for I have sinned,” Butch cried out before punching his pillow into a more comfortable position.
Chapter Eight
Why wasn’t someone answering the phone? Sunday morning was supposed to be a day to sleep in until it was time to get up and go to church. Butch turned over and stretched out full length in the bed.
“Butch,” his mom called out, tapping on his door, “Willie wants to talk to you.”
“Okay,” he murmured as he saw the door open slightly. Rubbing a hand over his face, he tried to swing his feet off the bed. “Why do I feel like I just got to bed?”
“Hurry up, Butch, or I’m hanging up the phone,” Donna yelled out, standing in the hall.
“I said I’m coming.” His voice was surly seeming to fit his sour mood.
“What?” He grabbed up the phone.
“Jeez, cuz, sounds like you woke up in the same mood as me.” Willie laughed.
“What is it you want that couldn’t wait `til later?”
“I just wanted to tell you about the shitty dream I had last night.”
“You woke me up over a stupid dream?”
“Well yeah…but, it ain’t just any dream. I dreamed we were both at the old mansion.”
Suddenly, a sick feeling slammed into Butch’s stomach making him almost retch.
“And we weren’t alone either. The old witch was there, and so were the crippled kids.”
Butch covered his mouth, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to quiet his churning stomach, as images of a big crow flying through Willie’s body invaded his mind.
“It was scary as hell, man!” Willie continued with what he was saying.
“I don’t think it was a dream, Willie,” Butch whispered, trying to stop his shaking.
“What are you talking about? Of course it was a dream. Besides, how the hell do you know it wasn’t a dream? It ain’t like you were really there.”
“Yes I was, Willie. And I remember everything that happened.”
“You’re starting to scare me, Butch. There ain’t no way we could both have the same dream.”
“Remember the big crow that flew through your body to perch on the old woman’s shoulder? And the crippled girl that started to tell us about who hurt them until she saw the old woman?”
“Oh my God, Butch! You really were there! But that can’t be. It just can’t be.” Willie was crying into the phone and shaking so bad he was finding it difficult to hold onto the phone’s receiver.
“It’s all the doing’s of the old woman, Willie. She’s a witch and she’s put a spell on us.”
“We need to tell our parents about this before she kills us, or worse, turns us into a crow!”
“We can’t tell our parents about this. They wouldn’t believe us anyway.”
“Then what are we gonna do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“She wants those jars back. If we give them back to her maybe she’ll leave us alone.”
“Do you really believe that? If we give back them jars then she’ll destroy us for sure.”
“Then what are we gonna do?” Butch could no longer control the sheer terror shooting through his body and into his voice.
“First off, you need to get a hold of yourself! I can’t handle this mess all by myself.”
“I can’t help it! I’m so scared right now I’m about to shit my pants!”
“Why is it, every time you have a crisis you have to take a shit?”
“It’s just the way I am!” He slid down the wall and landed on the floor with the phone still held tight to his ear. “Maybe Mr. Simmons or that detective can help us. They sounded like they wanted to.”
“I still ain’t sure we can trust them. After all we’re the only ones who know where those jars came from and if we tell them where we got them then they will go to the mansion and arrest the old lady for murder.”
“Well ain’t that what we want? If she’s locked up in jail she can’t hurt us or come after us.”
“Maybe. But she was able to make us have the same dream and she wasn’t even near us when she did it.”
“Wicked old bitch wants to hurt us. And I still don’t think it was a dream that we had.”
“Yeah, you said we was having something called an OBE.”
“Yeah, where the spirit takes a trip out of the body. But I sure never heard of anyone having that together like we did.”
“You know what I think, Butch?”
“What?”
“I think the old woman caused that OBE. I’m telling you, she’s evil.”
“Well no shit! And, if she can do it to us once, she can do it to us whenever she wants to.”
“Evil as that old bitch is, if we send the cops after her, she’ll get so pissed, she won’t stop with an OBE, she’ll go all the way and kill us,” Butch said, then jumped as a denim-covered arm encircled his throat. “What are you doing?” he murmured his voice a breathy whisper.
“What are you so jumpy about, pissy pants?” Donna laughed, spinning Butch around.
“I ain’t jumpy about nothing. I just wasn’t expecting you is all.”
“Right. You and Willie are up to something, and I bet I know what it is.” She crossed her arms across her ample chest.
“You know everything, don’t you, Donna? I got news for you, you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
“The two of you are still messing around that house.” She stood looking at him, both hands balled on her slim hips.
Butch could hear Willie talking into the phone and trying to get his attention.
“With that guilty as shit look hanging on your face, I don’t need to wonder if I guessed right.” Donna said.
To his shame, Butch broke into tears that escalated into all out body-racking sobs.
“What the hell?” Donna reached out, pulling him into her arms, and without a word to Willie, hung up the receiver. “Butch, we’re going to go to your room, and you’re gonna tell me what’s going on with you.”
With an arm around his waist, she walked him to his room. Once inside, she pushed him down on his bed then closed the door and turned the lock.
Butch moved over to allow her room to sit beside him.
“All right, now tell me what’s going on.”
“The old witch is trying to kill us.” He wiped his nose on the bottom of his t-shirt.
“Are you talking about that old bitch at the mansion?” She burst out laughing. “Butch, I was only kidding you about her being a witch. I only said that to keep you and Willie away from there. She’s just an old lady.”
“No, Donna, she ain’t.” Butch grabbed her by her shoulders, and pe
ering into her face, tried to explain what was going on. “She really is a witch!”
“What makes you think that?” Donna rotated her shoulders.
“She caused Willie and me to have an OBE last night.”
“Damn it, Butch, I told you, if you and Willie start smoking dope this young, I will go to mom and dad! I don’t give a shit!”
“No, we’re not smoking! We really did have an OBE last night and that old bitch caused it.”
“How the hell can someone cause you to have an out of body experience?” She got up off the bed to stand looking down at him.
“All right! Then you tell me how two people, who don’t even live in the same house, can have the same exact dream at the same exact time, Miss Know-It-All!”
“You and Willie had the same dream?” Her head cocked to one side as she stared at him.
“Yeah! Me and Willie had the same dream!”
Donna watched him for a moment longer, then dropped back down on the bed. “I think you need to start at the beginning and not leave anything out.”
“All right, after I watched my shows, I turned off the TV and went to sleep. And the next thing I know, I’m at the mansion with Willie.”
“You had a dream, dumb fuck!” She slapped him across his head.
“No, shut up and listen, and you’ll see this wasn’t just a dream.
“Okay, tell me why you don’t think this was a dream.” She rose from the bed to plop down in the chair in front of Butch’s computer, stretched her long legs out in front of her.
After taking a deep breath to steady his taut nerves, Butch proceeded to tell her what had happened during the night, ending with talking to Willie earlier on the phone and coming to the realization that what they had together was not a dream but an out of body experience.
“I have to admit, Butch, that what you’re telling me is creepy, but why do you think the old lady caused you and Willie to have an OBE? Could be you just both had one at the same time.” She leaned one hip to the side to pull a tissue from the pocket of her cutoffs.
“No, she did it, all right. She did it to scare us into returning the jars we took from the bus.”
“Why would she care about some old jars? They’ve probably been in there for who knows how long.”
“She cares because of what was in them.”
“Oh no! You’re not telling me you and Willie took jars that were filled with money, are you?” She jumped up from the chair. “Don’t you know she could call the cops and have you put in jail? And depending on how much money you took, you could be going to prison!”
“We didn’t steal any money.”
“Butch, if you did, you better tell me right now! Depending on the amount that was in there, we might be able to put it back. Did you spend any of it?”
“I told you, Donna, we didn’t steal any money.” He wiped a hand across his eyes. “I wish we had, because then we would be able to get the hell out of here before she kills us.”
“If you didn’t steal money from her, why would she want to kill you?” Donna tipped Butch’s face up. “Whatever was in the jars can’t be that bad, hon, so you and Willie need to stop worrying.”
“You’re wrong, Donna. We got a lot more to worry about than going to jail.”
“Like what?”
“Like being turned into something that ain’t human.” The sobs were starting again.
Donna reached out, drew him against her shoulder and began rocking him back and forth.
“There now, sweetheart, you can put your mind at ease. I won’t let anything happen to you. If there wasn’t money in the jars, then whatever was in them isn’t worth anyone’s time to try and hurt the two of you.”
Butch sniffed then wiped his eyes once more on the bottom of his t-shirt. A childish gesture, but one he didn’t care about at the moment. “It is to her. She knows we can have her arrested.”
“You can have her arrested for what?”
“Murder,” Butch whispered.
“Butch, damn it, you’re not making any sense. She’s an old woman. She couldn’t…kill…anyone!”
“You’re wrong, Donna. She has killed. And she’s killed more than one. She’s killed a lot of people.”
“Butch, who told you this? Was it some of your friends at school?”
“No.” Butch began pacing the floor. His hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his pajama bottoms. “No one had to tell us anything.”
“Then how do you know the old woman killed anyone? I’m trying to help you, but until you start making sense, there’s nothing I can do.”
“When Willie and me were in the bus, I took one of the jars and took the lid off. It stank so bad we almost puked.”
“Probably something she’d made and it went bad from being there so long.” Donna tried to put his mind at ease, and at the same time tried to calm her own mounting fear.
“It wasn’t anything she made. More like something she killed.”
“All right, that does it. Why do you believe she’s a killer?”
“Willie and I know she’s a killer because those jars are filled with the bodies of deformed babies.”
“Oh my good God!” Donna started to shake. “You actually saw this with your own eyes?”
“Yes, Donna, we did.”
“If all you say is true, then we need to tell Mom and Dad about this. She may be a frail old lady, but if she knows you and Willie saw what’s in those jars, and I’m willing to bet that what you two saw were aborted fetuses, she could send someone to shut you up before you tell anybody. And by shut you up, I mean kill you.”
“We not only told someone, but they have the jar and what’s in it.”
“Who has the jar now, Butch?”
“Mr. Simmons, our biology teacher, who gave them to a detective.”
“Did you tell them where you found it?”
“No, but he says he wants to talk with Mom and Dad and Uncle Dave and Aunt Julie about this.”
“And I agree with him. This is not a game here. These people mean business.”
“Donna, she’s doing more than abortions in that house, or at least she was.”
“What makes you think this?” she whispered almost afraid to hear his answer.
“Last night, Willie and me spoke to the ghosts of the kids killed in that house.”
Chapter Nine
Simmons got to his feet, a wide smile curling the corners of his full mouth as he saw Jenkins walk into the room.
“Cracked the baby jar case yet?” Jenkins held out his hand.
“Not yet. Although I do feel sure those kids will want to talk before long, especially Butch.” He laughed, shaking his head. “That little jerk off couldn’t keep a secret if he was threatened with castration.”
“Great. That’s music to my heart.” He eased himself down on Simmons’s desk. “I’ll lay a fifty on where they got those jars.”
“No need. They got them by poking around the Prescott Mansion. Rumor has it, that old bitch has been performing illegal abortions out there for years.”
“You probably heard about Carla Johnston.”
“No, what happened?”
“She damn near died a few years back.” He shook a cigarette from the pack he lifted from his shirt pocket and poked it back inside as Simmons shook his head.
“Any relation to the preacher at the First Baptist?”
“One and the same.”
“Holy shit! Never got wind of that one. She’s pretty young. What the hell’s wrong with kids these days?” He glanced to the side then back to Jenkins. “What happened to her?”
“Her uterus was perforated, and she almost hemorrhaged to death! Guess they got her to the ER just in time.”
“Who took her to the hospital?”
“We don’t know.” Jenkins shrugged his wide shoulders. “ER got a call about someone coming in in critical condition. Couple of nurses and a paramedic met them right outside the doors. The paramedic took one look at how bad she
was bleeding and just lifted her up and haled her inside. Soon as he got her out of the car, the man who brought her in took off.”
“Well hell, didn’t they even get a plate number?”
“They were too intent on getting her inside where they could work on her. The blanket she was wrapped in was soaked in blood. They took one look and knew they had to move fast.”
“Missed a good chance to get some important info there!”
“No shit! I’m hoping those jars did come from The Prescott Mansion. If they did, we can get a search warrant granting us access to every square-inch of that place!”
“What do you expect to find after all this time?”
“Anything I can that will send that butchering bitch away for the rest of her days.”
“She’s got to be getting up in years by now. Rumors about her involvement with illegal abortions have been going on for at least… forty…fifty years.”
“Hell, she’s probably so shaky with age, she’s fucking up.” Simmons tried to call up some mercy for her, due to her advanced age, then pushed it away. “My buddies and I used to go out there and party down when I was still in high school.”
“Yeah, me too. Surprised I never ran into you out there. But then, you do have almost five-years on me.”
“Just means I got five more years of smarts on you.” Jenkins smirked. “But all jokes aside, she can be banging a hundred for all I give a shit.”
“She’s probably pretty close. But the thing is, will a jury feel the same? Some people have an aversion to sending an old woman to prison.”
“Prison?” Jenkins’s brown head whipped around. “Prison ain’t even in the fucking running far as I’m concerned! I want her to get the needle!”
“You’re going to laugh.” Simmons dropped the side of his head in the palm of one hand.
“What?”
“When we talked about the old woman? We used to call her a witch.”
When Jenkins remained silent, Simmons glanced up. “You don’t find that odd?”
“Not when the rest of us called her the same thing.”
“All right, since we’re comparing notes, did you ever hear rumors of the mansion being haunted?”
The Hay Fort Page 6