by Brhel, John
“I thought I told you, this is private property—not your goddamn personal track!”
Rick startled, but quickly realized who was talking to him and waved the older guy off like he was one of his subordinates.
He returned home and thought about the stone angel and his neighbor. He heard a lawnmower roar to life across the street as if synchronously dependent on his thoughts. He’s over there now cutting the grass. I’ll have a look out the window, just to make sure.
He cracked the shades of his large front window and watched the older man pushing his mower back and forth over his plush lawn.
Al looks good for a guy pushing seventy. Maybe I’ll go talk to him about who he’s using for his hedges. College football star right there. I bet he could still hit like a freight train. Like I’m gonna go over there and casually mention I saw an angel over an inscription with his name and date of death. Nope. He’d probably slap me across the mouth. Forget this cemetery crap; time for a movie and bed.
Minutes before Rick’s alarm sounded the following morning, he was awoken by the wail of an ambulance. Aww, Christ! Don’t tell me, Mrs. Wagner broke another hip. All the money she has, why not pay a full-time nurse’s aide?
He went downstairs, started his coffee and peered out the front window.
Oh. It’s at Al’s.
Rick ran to his toilet, puked out the knot in his stomach, and was about to call in sick to work when another neighbor, Mark, stopped by with news: Al had passed during the night. Mark was a surgeon and had been first on the scene, as Al’s wife had actually called him before the ambulance. He figured it was likely a cardiac arrest and that Al had died in his sleep.
Rick almost told Mark about the angel and the inscription but stopped before he made a fool of himself.
Rick avoided Valleyview for months after Al’s death. He joined the local health club to continue his exercise regimen. But given time and pride, it was not long before Rick considered returning to his old course, irrespective of soothsaying angels.
Coincidence is all. Al was old, had horrible eating habits, and got no exercise aside from pushing that lawnmower. A few bad dreams and false memories and I’m running on the treadmill at the club like a teenage girl. God.
He was determined to return to the road and the cemetery that night. It was all he thought about that day, and he got little work done. When he got home he put on his gear, iWatch, and new sneakers, and pumped himself up for his run.
Let’s go, Sellers. Don’t be a queen. Personal record day. Five miles with hills in twenty-eight minutes! Looks like rain. Who cares?
As the sky darkened, Rick blew down the road from his house and practically sprinted down the side streets that led into the valley. His watch told him he was well ahead of his typical pace as he passed under the ornate cast-iron entranceway of Valleyview.
I guess the treadmill wasn’t all bad. I’m frickin’ unstoppable today. Caretaker Dickhead’s truck isn’t in its normal spot. Won’t have to listen to that bug today. The rain fell lightly on Rick’s sweat-wicking shirt and pitter-pattered off his exposed thighs below his brief runners’ shorts. The wet pavement was no match for his new, technologically advanced shoes, designed specifically to deal with adverse road conditions.
As Rick came upon the headstone grouping, just before the major incline to the top of the cemetery, he kept his head down, determined not to lose concentration. As he trudged through, his second wind kicking in, he caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye.
Jesus! He stopped cold in his tracks as rain began to beat down upon his head. The angel with the outspread wings that had given him pause so many times before was now seemingly slate black. Rick figured it was the dark skies that gave it a strange hue, so he jogged the twenty yards or so to get a better look, slightly trembling in the cold rain.
However, it was not the sky nor the rain that had darkened that statue. At the black angel’s feet, he read a new inscription: Rick Sellers. Born: 1983. Died: 2015.
Rick dropped to his knees as the rain poured down around him. He began to weep when he noticed all of the other black angels atop grave markers, each with fresh inscriptions, dooming people he had known, loved, and even some he thought he’d long forgotten.
ALL HALLOW’S EVE
James and Alexis Savage hadn’t been to the town’s Halloween carnival in ages. In fact, they couldn’t remember the last time they had even gone out as a couple. It was Alexis' idea. Let's just give this a chance, okay? Spend a couple of hours together without biting each other's heads off? She figured the carnival was as good a place as any to attempt a resuscitation of their marriage. The locals came out in droves and there was a cheeriness in the air that was practically contagious. Maybe, just maybe, that good spirit would rub off on James.
They walked into Greene Park and were immediately greeted by a giant scarecrow with a jack-o-lantern for a head. It had a twisted grin and pointed toward the main entrance to the carnival with a long, bony finger. Alexis looked at her husband and smiled. He got out his wallet to pay the ticket salesman.
"Eve-ning, folks," said the salesman, a bucktoothed yokel in caked-on vampire makeup. "Welcome to the Lester Harvest Fair!"
James handed the man a twenty. "Hi."
"So, are you two first-timers?" the salesman asked, a big, dumb grin on his face. He opened up the cash register and ripped off a pair of tickets from a big, orange roll.
"No," said Alexis. "We've been here before, six or seven years ago. Is there anything new we should check out?"
The salesman pointed across the street. "You've got to try the corn maze. It's huge and really scary. Been running three years now. Most popular attraction we got."
Alexis gave the man a puzzled look. "Across the street? You mean over in the cemetery?
"Yep. Starts at the gate and goes quite a way up the hill. Careful not to trip over any coffins!" They didn’t even feign a smile at the vampire’s attempt at a joke. He stamped their hands with a smiling pumpkin logo and James and Alexis walked into the fair.
Greene Park was aglow in orange and yellow lights. Cornhusks littered the ground, fences, game booths, and even some of the rides. Papier-mâché bats hung from a string, which led all the way from the basketball courts to the pavilion, where the 4H club was cooking up "hell dogs" and "monster burgers." Spooky sounds blared out of the speakers attached to the Little League field—rattling chains, creaking coffins, typical hokey stuff. The air was thick with the scents of apple cider and kettle corn.
"What do you say? Want to get a couple monster burgers?" asked Alexis playfully as they walked among the costumed denizens of Lestershire.
"I'm not hungry," said James.
"C'mon, we didn't even eat dinner. Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't do this."
Alexis looked at him quizzically. "Do what?"
"Hound me. We haven't even been here five minutes. Don’t start.”
"Hound you? I asked if you wanted a burger."
"And I said no. Should have stopped there." He started to walk away.
Alexis tugged at his arm. "Honey, okay. I'm sorry. How about a drink then?"
"Sure."
They walked over to the beer tent and James bought each of them a cup of pumpkin ale.
"S'good," he said in a disaffected tone.
"Yeah," said Alexis. "See, I told you this would be fun."
"Mmhmm," mumbled James.
An hour passed as James and Alexis knocked back a few beers each. The carnival became even trippier as the booze began to take effect. They stumbled around, making fun of the various costumes and general attire of their neighbors.
“What a whore,” commented Alexis, regarding a woman dressed up as a naughty witch with two kids in tow.
“Won’t be long ‘til she pops out another one, lookin’ like that. But that’s probably the point,” said James. “I see them at my store with their EBT cards. They just keep breeding to get that monthly welfare increase.”
>
“Oh my god, the obesity. I just want to knock that funnel cake out of that fat guy’s hand.” Alexis had been louder than she intended and her target heard her dig. The large man with the pastry looked down at the ground in shame and hurried on his way.
“How about a game or something, dear?” asked James. He seemed to be in brighter spirits after the alcohol and came across as almost playful. Alexis played a few of the lottery-type games, he threw balls at stacked cans, and they even rode the Ferris wheel together.
Having had their fill of the fairground, they started back up the hill to the car, as sundown was less than an hour away. On their way to the parking lot, they heard a barker call out from the entrance of the corn maze, “Hey there, mister brave young man!”
James paused, curious how the old carny was going to try and sell such an attraction to two adults in their forties.
“Sir, madam—the most fun is certainly not in the park. Come have a go at my spook maze. I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.”
James chuckled and waved him off.
“There is a fear you might find, deep inside. Some laughs, too. Take your lady by the hand; she’ll be trembling; you’ll guide her through.” The barker smiled wide. His wrinkled face and white mustache seemed to bring out the yellow in his tobacco-stained teeth.
“Let’s do it, Jamey. It’s still early.” Alexis pulled gently on her husband’s hand in the direction of the gate. He begrudgingly followed, unsure of how much fear, fun, or laughs they might find in a cornhusk labyrinth through the town cemetery.
“Yes, sir—this way, through the gate,” the old man said, then continued, eerily, “Choose the right path and you’ll go free, choose the wrong path and you might just scream.”
James looked at Alexis, both smirking at the carny as they passed into the first husk corridor. Tall stalks, yellowed and dry, loomed over them as they walked the first stretch of the maze. The sweet aromas of the carnival were replaced by a sour stench, some pungent combination of mud, straw, and manure. There was just enough evening sun peering through the trees to still see down each pathway.
They turned the first corner and Alexis yelped. A large, pumpkin-headed man stood on the other side, wielding a chainsaw. Although it was held in the ground by a stake and its face was painted on, it still struck a frightful image. Its twisted smile was so lifelike, so artfully realistic, James had to do a double-take to make sure there really wasn't a deranged killer standing before them.
"That guy wasn't joking," said Alexis, gaining her composure. "They let kids in here?"
"They didn't have this kind of sick stuff when we were young. Worst they ever had was a half in the bag Wolfman or a cheesy Frankenstein monster. Got to give it to the artist that painted these faces, though."
They proceeded through the maze, getting lost, backtracking, finding their way, getting lost again. The further they ventured in, the more unsettling the scenes became. Every so often the maze would widen to accommodate various groupings of effigy, furniture, and props. They passed an execution scene. Pumpkin villagers were gathered around a guillotine. A headless man knelt next to it, his severed gourd a few feet away bearing a ghastly expression.
The next scene they came upon was so disturbing that Alexis clutched her husband by the arm and buried her face in his shoulder. Four pumpkin people sat around a table, holding forks in their hands. The artist had painted big, drooling tongues hanging out of their mouths and had somehow, with nothing more than cheap acrylic paint, captured a look of insane glee in their eyes. Set before them, dressed with gourds, corn husks, and other bounty of the harvest, was their feast—a pumpkin person with a horrible scream on its face. Its "body" was ripped open, hay and red ribbon coming out of its chest.
"This is sick," said James.
Alexis was repulsed. "What kind of a corn maze is this? I can't believe the town would approve something like this."
They continued through the maze. Ten minutes passed and the last cup of alcohol finally took effect. James pinched Alexis' butt and she turned around and laughed.
"Hey, mister, what do you think you're doing?"
James pushed her against the fence supporting the corn stalks and kissed her.
"Jamey, what if someone comes by?"
He unbuttoned her shirt. "We haven't seen anyone for a while. It's fine. Besides, it’s getting pretty dark in here."
They continued, more clothing coming undone, more groping. The newly risen harvest moon shone through the colored leaves of a nearby oak.
They were in the middle of things when they were startled by a loud bullhorn.
"What was that?" asked Alexis, quickly covering her chest with her arms.
"I don't know," said James, lying. He knew it was the signal that the maze was closing; he’d read it earlier on a sign near the ticket booth. He dragged her down to the ground behind a wooden sarcophagus and a rising mummy. Alexis’ bare skin pressed into the cold, muddy, straw path as they made love.
James and Alexis dressed and continued through the maze with the exit in mind. It was twilight and already quite dark. The noise from the carnival had all but faded.
They walked and walked, but no matter how much they backtracked and re-routed, they could not find the exit.
"We already went this way!" cried Alexis.
James snapped back at her, a familiar bite to his tone. "I know that, Alexis. You think I'm trying to get us lost? Just calm down. We'll be out in no time and you’ll be home in time for your Kardashian crap."
Alexis immediately regretted what they had done in the mud. "Don't talk to me like that!"
James looked at her with contempt. "I'm not doing this right now."
"I'm scared and I don't appreciate you being mean to me for no reason."
"Oh, c’mon. What are you afraid of? We're in a damn corn maze. We'll get out eventually, okay?"
"You know I don't like small spaces. I swear the path is getting narrower and narrower."
"Then why'd you push me to come in here? I was ready to leave and you insisted we do this.”
Alexis was about to tear into her husband when she heard two voices ahead. “I hear somebody. Maybe they can help us get out of here.”
They turned the corner and came upon another couple standing in the path. They looked to be about the same age. Alexis noticed that they were holding hands.
“Excuse me,” said Alexis, walking up to the pair.
They turned and smiled. “Hello.”
“My husband and I are lost, and we were wondering if you could help us get to the end of this thing.” Alexis looked at James, who seemed upset that she had asked a couple of strangers how to get out of a kid’s corn maze.
The man grinned. “That’s what a maze is for—getting lost!” He snickered to himself. “We’ve been through a few times over the years. We know the way out. You can follow us. Name’s Steve. This is my wife, Rose.”
“I’m Alexis. This is my husband, James.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Rose.
James and Alexis followed the couple through the maze, making small talk. The sky darkened. The moon and a little light from the street lamps lit the path, enough for them to see ahead maybe ten yards. James noted that the pipe organ music from the carousel in the park had long since ceased playing.
“It’s crazy what they call kid’s entertainment these days,” said Alexis as they passed a scene of pumpkin people dressed up as a satanic cult, readying a sacrifice. “I’d never let my kid come in here.”
“Oh, how old are your children?” asked Rose.
“We don’t actually have kids,” said James.
“No,” Alexis added. “It didn’t work out.” She gave her husband the look.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Steve.
“Sorry?” said James, chuckling. “I’m glad we never had kids. Just another expense we don’t need. Being married is hard enough.”
“I don’t think James and I would do well with kid
s,” said Alexis. “We’re too independent.
Rose looked at them like they were from another planet. “Steve and I couldn’t have children. We tried and tried though...” She trailed off, looking down at the husk-laden path.
Steve shared an equal measure of heartache with his wife. “We would have given anything to have kids. Modern medicine couldn’t solve our issue, however. Now it’s too late for us.”
Steve halted the group at an intersection not ten paces later. “This is the way out. Straight ahead.”
The foursome reached an end to the cornstalk corridors, and the straw paths thinned to a brown, dead grass. The air was noticeably chillier as a thick evening fog rolled in. Alexis thought she could make out the road and a dim streetlight as she walked behind Steve and Rose, but the fog concealed almost everything.
“Are you sure about this?” asked James. They reached a road, but James thought it strange they hadn’t passed through any gate to get to it. “This doesn’t look right. I thought the maze dumped you back onto Memorial Drive.”
“This is right, folks,” said Rose, a strange smile on her face. “Trust us.”
“Yeah, James,” said Alexis. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s go.” She pushed him past Steve and Rose, and onto the dimly lit road.
The fog was heavy, but as their eyes adjusted they recognized the desolate nature of their surroundings, and could tell that they were nowhere near the carnival. In fact, after only walking a few yards, they could no longer see where they had exited the cemetery—and their guides were gone.
“Steve—Rose?!” Alexis called out into the palpable air. “Where did they go?”
“I have no idea.” James replied. The couple paused and looked in each direction anticipating the reappearance of their new friends. Nothing, no response, just dead silence.
“James, where are we?” Alexis’ voice trembled.
“I’m not sure. We might be on the north side of the cemetery on that shoddy service road. They really went all out on that maze if it went all the way back here.”