by Billy Wells
Were my parents and all the others right all along? I was still convinced they were not. I remembered his insidious laughter in the closet, the foot dragging across the floor, and those hideous pointed teeth. The house was still and extremely creepy, but I assumed that no one but myself would feel the vibes that I was feeling at that moment.
I arose from the bed and left the room with a shudder and a lump in my throat. I gave the kitchen one last look and noticed the butcher knives in a rack on the wall. I thought about the damage someone could do with those as I ventured out on the screened back porch and down the steps into the backyard.
The realtor was standing with his back to me digging a hole in the ground next to the garage. I followed the sidewalk to the separate structure and joined him. On the ground along the garage wall was a series of five small white crosses in what appeared to be a flower garden next to a line of rosebushes. On the horizontal slat of each cross was a name and a date. They read in the order of their position: “John, 1965;” ”Patrick, 1975;” “Henry, 1985;” “Sydney, 1995;” and “Aidan, 2005.”
“What do you make of these markers?” I said incredulously.
“One of the neighbors thought that these are graves of some of the pets that lived here through the years.” The realtor looked at the sky and the sun going down.
“The names don’t look like pet names to me. I lived here in 1965, and my name is John, but I’m certainly not buried here, and we didn’t have any pets.”
The realtor smiled and took another shovelful of dirt from the flower garden as he looked at his watch and said, “I only know what I was told, but one thing’s for sure, the crosses aren’t a good selling point. I want to make this area a flower bed rather than a pet cemetery.”
“How long did the last owner live here?” I inquired as the sun descended to the bottom of the horizon and shadows of branches fell across the garage wall.
“As I understand it, he was here for about ten years. The neighbors say that his little boy had disturbing nightmares all the time he lived here. Then one day when he didn’t answer their call for breakfast, they found what was left of him scattered about his bedroom floor. The police said the forensics indicated the he was killed by some kind of animal. The strange part was there was no sign of forced entry or exit and no conclusive identification of what kind of animal it was. The owners were so distraught they moved out that day and put the house on the market the next week. That was five years ago. We’ve reduced the price to the point where we’re giving the house away, but there have been no takers.”
The realtor turned to me and said, “Would you be in the market? You and your parents lived here before, and nothing happened to you. In fact, I lived in this house myself for a time, and I never had a problem.”
I took a step back as I pondered his last remark and said, “I’m sorry to say, after so many bad memories, I wouldn’t live in this house if you gave it to me and threw in an extra million dollars to boot.”
“Do you still think there’s a boogeyman in your closet?”
“I don’t remember mentioning that he lived in my closet.”
“Don’t all boogeymen live in closets?”
I smiled uneasily and said, “I understand in some countries they live under the bed.”
Some of the lights in the neighboring condos came on, and a cool breeze caught the back of my neck as my heartbeat began to accelerate.
Looking back at the house, I asked, “Why would one case of a random animal attack stop the house from selling for five years at such a reduced price?”
“Apparently, there were several other deaths before this one. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when the Alexandria Gazette ran an article, which listed the dates and the children who died going back to when the house was built. Since the story was printed, no one wants to buy the house at any price.”
“It’s apparent you should change your line of work. You’ll never sell this house if you tell potential buyers that story.”
The realtor dragged his left foot and shuffled toward the “for sale” sign, and pulling it out of the ground, he propped it against the back porch out of sight from the road.
“I’m not really the realtor. I made a meal of him last night when he came to air out the house,” the boogeyman said cloaked in darkness.
I looked at the shape-shifting silhouette against the deep purple hue of the sky and didn’t understand how my former nocturnal roommate could be outside of his closet, particularly before sundown. It was another boogeyman rule omitted from the encyclopedia and one more thing to worry about if my plan was to conclude the way I had planned.
A half moon rose eerily behind the trees and two street lights came on as I saw his face morph into something inhuman with long pointed teeth and his body contort into the familiar shape of my former roommate.
I retreated up the stairs into the house and into my old room. I pulled back the sheets and got into bed the same as I did when I was ten years old. It wasn’t long before I heard the familiar sound of his foot dragging across the floor and I heard a deep raspy voice say, “I’ve been waiting for you, Johnnie. I knew you would come back to see me.”
“Mom! Dad! The boogieman is trying to eat me!” I screamed.
“Your parents aren’t here to save you this time. You’re all alone, and the dark is so beautiful,” said the boogeyman.
On queue, John’s parents, who were both sixty-five years old, stepped into his room and turned on the light. For the first time, they caught a glimpse of the monster as he fled into his closet in dismay.
“Mom! Dad! Do you believe me now?”
“Yes, son. We saw him with our own eyes,” his parents’ confirmed in unison.
“Sorry we didn’t believe you all those years ago,” his father said and then asked, “Did you make all of the arrangements?”
“Yes, Dad, I am now the proud owner of this house. I bought it this morning for thirty thousand dollars. The bank was giving it away as a foreclosure.”
“You sure went out on a limb, son. What if the boogeyman wasn’t here?”
“In my heart, I knew he would be, and I knew he would be coming to eat me just as before when it got dark.”
I saw several members of the local fire department pull up in a fire truck in the driveway.
I left the lights ablaze in my room and went outside to instruct the fire department to begin torching my new house as I had arranged earlier.
My parents and I got in my car and drove off as the flames from my old house set the night on fire.
Torching the house closed the door on the boogeyman forever. It was the most satisfying $30,000 I ever spent.
* * *
Fortune Teller
Robert and Darressia Coleman were middle-aged tourists perusing the streets of New Orleans when they came upon a small shop on the corner with a sign above the door that read “Fortune Teller.” They giggled good-naturedly and, taking a deep breath, opened the ancient front door that creaked in protest.
Shadows shrouded the interior. A bare light bulb hung from the ceiling over an opaque white sphere in the middle of a square table. An old gypsy with a face full of wrinkles and a multicolored scarf around her head sat behind it. She motioned for them to be seated in the two chairs across from her.
“Do you mind if we have a reading together?” Darressia asked.
“No matter,” the old woman croaked.
An intense beam of light appeared from the darkness and illuminated a large shimmering disc that began to rotate as the old woman spoke in a slow mesmerizing monotone. With each revolution, the couple fell deeper under her spell.
Their eyes fixed on the crystal ball as the old woman spoke in a foreign tongue. Although the white, opaque sphere had not changed at all, Darressia saw a rainbow colored mist inside swirling away, and Robert’s head appeared. In her mind’s eye, the face rotated at the same speed as the shimmering disc. His eyes blinked, and his lips moved as his head turned. �
�Are you seeing the same thing I am?” Darressia asked dreamily.
Robert, entranced by the images he saw in the crystal ball, muttered, “I see a lonely road with ominous trees on both sides. There’s a full moon high in the sky. Wait! I see a dark figure approaching on a black horse. He’s wearing a black cape. Is that what you see?”
“Are you trying to scare me?” she asked nervously.
“No. I’m just telling you what I see, and it’s pretty intense. What do you see?”
“I see your head turning inside the crystal ball. Your lips are moving, but I can’t hear what you’re saying. It’s so real.”
“Uh oh.” Robert winced. “The man in the cape has spotted me. He’s looking at me like he hasn’t eaten in a week.”
Suddenly, Darressia saw Robert’s eyes bulge in their sockets within the crystal ball as if he had seen a monster from outer space. She saw a pale hand with long fingers grip his throat. With every turn, Robert’s head grew bigger and bigger. His tongue protruded from his mouth and lapped the inside of the glass with saliva until the bloated head exploded in a burst of blood, bone, and gore. Darressia screamed and buried her head in Robert’s embrace, “Hold me, darling. Hold me. I’m losing it. What is this awful place?”
Holding on to Robert with all her might, convulsions of unbridled terror engulfed her. Then she felt a warm liquid spill onto her hair and ooze down the back of her neck and into her blouse. Looking up, she didn’t see a head on top of Robert’s shoulders and continued screaming even louder.
“Wake, my darlings,” the old gypsy woman shouted and pushed hard against their shoulders. “You fell asleep looking into the crystal ball. You both must be having a nightmare.”
Darressia stopped screaming, but continued to shake all over. They embraced each other for several minutes as the old woman tried to dispel their fears.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Darressia groaned, ignoring the old crone.
“What did we see in the crystal ball?” Robert stammered. “Don’t tell me this is our future!”
“I assure you I don’t know what you saw. I no sooner switched on the memory disc than you fell into a deep sleep. You were only out for a few seconds when you both started screaming. I’ve never had this happen before in all my years of readings.”
“You mean you didn’t see what we saw in the crystal ball?” Robert asked still shaking and breathless.
“Please understand, my reading don’t involve the crystal ball. I only use it for séances. I use tarot cards for readings. Whatever you saw there was entirely your imagination. It has remained white since you entered my shop.”
The couple looked at each other in disbelief.
The fortune teller placed several tarot cards on the table and looked at them with an optimistic, crocodile smile. She reminded Robert of the gypsy from the Wolfman movie starring Lon Chaney Jr.
“Your future looks bright in every way. You will soon come into a lot of money.” She looked at their expressions and then slowly turned two more cards. “You will travel to many luxurious places and enjoy a lifetime of good luck.” The crone smiled and looked at them with penetrating eyes.
Robert and Darressia grinned from ear to ear, genuinely elated by what the old woman had said about their future and hanging on every word. Turning over two more cards, she said, “Your marriage will be fruitful and filled with happiness and prosperity. One of your children will run for President of the United States.” She placed the deck on the table and turned off the shimmering disc.
The happy couple looked like they were ready to jump up and down for joy when they stood and embraced. Robert and Darressia never went anywhere without a reading. Both were extremely superstitious and always had their fortune told before they proceeded with any travel or business endeavors.
“The future looks bright,” Robert repeated reassuringly and kissed Darressia lovingly. He extracted a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet, but seeing the old crone’s wince of disappointment, he handed her forty dollars.
The happy couple left the shop and headed for their hotel.
As soon as the couple had closed the door, the young fortune teller locked it, peeled off her old witch mask, and pulled the shade. Still trembling from the encounter, she hoped she’d never see them again. From the moment they’d entered the parlor, she’d known they were evil. Wherever they turned up, she could see a trail of death in their wake.
Although Robert and Darressia were tourists in New Orleans, they often mixed business with pleasure. They had contacts in the black market in many cities, and the Big Easy was no exception. After dinner, they befriended a young man named Henry at the bar. Once they’d determined he was a guest in the hotel, they started plying him with drinks, mostly doubles. The fortune teller had predicted they were coming into money soon, and she was right. The first person they had come upon would do nicely.
It took about an hour for Henry to reach the perfect state of inebriation. Robert had finally slipped him a sedative while Darressia had distracted him with her cleavage. The bartender was not at all suspicious when the fun-loving couple volunteered to help poor Henry to his room on the twenty-fifth floor.
They placed both of his arms around their shoulders while making their way to the elevators. Using his key card, they opened the door to his room, carried him into the bathroom, and placed him in the bathtub. While Robert started cutting away his clothes, Darressia took some plastic bags from her purse and headed for the ice machine down the hall.
Accumulating a bathtub full of ice was a tedious process, but she had done it many times. After making trips to several floors, she finally had enough to fill the tub.
Henry was totally unconscious from several whiffs of chloroform, when Robert made the necessary incisions to remove his liver. The fence had offered them $75,000 for the harvested organ. They never knew what a wealthy patient would pay for an immediate donor to save their life, but it wasn’t their concern.
Robert realized that he had drunk too much when he found it hard to steady his hand during the surgery. Unfortunately for Henry, he had inadvertently severed an artery and was having difficulty with the excess bleeding.
They shook their heads when they saw Henry’s lips turn blue and the tub half full of blood. It wasn’t necessary to place the phone next to the tub as they usually did. Henry wouldn’t be calling 911. Looking at the bright side, they wouldn’t need to change their clothes and their wigs as they did when the patient lived.
They carried the small cooler with the liver into the elevator and exited on the first floor into the parking lot. After driving to the pre-arranged destination, they traded the organ for the cash and were on their merry way. After stopping for a Big Mac at MacDonald’s, they headed east toward the Beau Rivage Casino in Biloxi. They enjoyed the thrill of placing half of their cash on black or red on the roulette wheel.
After driving an hour, Robert noticed the gaslight had come on. This section of the interstate had very few exits, and they were not close together. At the next exit, he took the ramp. The only service on the road sign was gasoline, which was two miles to the right.
When Robert reached the service station, he found it closed. Cursing, he turned the car around and headed back toward the Interstate. Darressia had dozed off in the passenger seat and had her head propped against the window. He didn’t want to wake her and hear how stupid he’d been not to fill up before he ventured into the boondocks. He had barely pulled onto the two-lane country road when the engine stuttered and stopped all together. He’d run out of gas.
He pulled the car to the shoulder and decided to wait until morning to search for a service station. He was miles from civilization and hadn’t seen another car for quite awhile. Darressia was not going to like it when she had to go into the bushes to pee. Suddenly, three hundred feet ahead, he saw headlights come on and start moving in his direction. He had an eerie feeling when the dilapidated truck pulled in front of his car. It looked like three men were inside. One of th
em got out and approached him. He was a tall mountain of a man, holding a sawed off shotgun at his side.
Robert lowered the driver’s side window and said with his Smith and Wesson at the ready, “I’ve run out of gas, but I’ve already called Triple A for service. Thanks for stopping, but we’re okay.”
The other two men got out of the truck and stood in front of the car. Darressia awoke and immediately understood the situation. The satchel with the cash was on the floor at her feet.
“Who did you call?” the man asked with a heavy drawl.
“I called the number on the back of the card. I gave them my location. I didn’t catch the name of the service station.”
“You’re a poor liar, jerk-off. We saw you when you pulled on to this road and followed you with our lights off to the station. You just ran out of gas. You never had time to call Triple A. Nobody’s coming for you. That is, nobody but us.” The big man smiled, and Robert could see he was missing two front teeth.
“Hey, I don’t want any trouble,” Robert replied meekly.
“What’s wrong? Are you afraid of a few poor hillbillies? We’re here to help you. We’re gonna tow you back to our place. You can use the phone to call triple A.”
“Look, fellow, we don’t need your help. We’ve got cell phones.”
“You look like you’re afraid of us. Are you carrying a lot of money?”
Robert looked at the simpleton with an exasperated sigh. Standing before him in his suspenders, the man reminded him of a circus clown who’d just stepped into the ring to fight a lion with a plastic knife. “I’m not afraid of anything. Why should I be? I just had my fortune told. The gypsy said I’m a lucky guy, and I’m about to come into a lot of money.”
Lifting his shotgun, the big man said, “I think you better ask for your money back. You’re in deep shit.”
The 44 Magnum shell blew a gigantic hole in the man’s chest, spewing a large chunk of blood and gore into the middle of the road. The men in front of the car stood paralyzed as Robert and Darressia jumped from the car pointing two handguns at their midsections.