There was a knock at the door.
“Quick, hide,” said Stephanie, whispering so her voice wouldn’t carry through the thin walls of the trailer.
We quickly ran back to the bedroom. I tripped over my own foot and nearly fell. We scrambled back into the closet, and I put my hand under the folding door and pulled it shut. The dolls continued staring at us, and I had the strange feeling that if the police came in the room, they would wonder what the dolls were staring at and go right to the closet and discover us. We would have nowhere to run, and it would be over. I heard Stephanie say, “Thank you,” and close the door.
“It’s okay. Y’all can come out now,” Stephanie yelled.
“That’s a relief,” said Charlie as we made our way out of the closet and back to the living room. “I couldn’t stand it if I had to be trapped in that closet again for very long.”
“Yeah, that closet’s like a torture chamber,” I said, still not quite over the nervous excitement. “I can see we’re not going to be able to make this place a hideout,” I said. “There’s people coming in and out of here all the time.”
Stephanie was trying to open a box. Charlie took out his pocketknife and cut the packing tape.
“So who was it?” I asked.
“Oh, it was just the mailman.” She pulled a flowery-printed dress out of the box. “This is wonderful. It’s the sundresses my mom ordered from Sears. Aren’t they beautiful? My mom ordered us a matching pair. She likes to get me a new dress every year.”
“My mom likes to get some kind of new dress or purse or something about every week,” said Charlie. “I’m glad I’m not a girl, so I don’t have to wear junk like that.”
“These dresses aren’t junk. I think they’re beautiful,” said Stephanie.
“I think they’re nice too,” I said.
“I’m going to order you one, Brian, since you like them so much,” Charlie said and laughed.
“I’m going to beat you up if you don’t quit being such a jerk,” I said. “I didn’t mean I’d want to wear one myself.”
“I know. I was just kidding.”
“My mom just bought us both some new sandals too. They’ll look great with these dresses. I’m going to wait until mom gets home to try the dress on. I want to see what we look like together.” With that she carefully folded the dresses, placed them back in the box, and put the box on the kitchen counter. “Mom will be so excited when she gets home.”
“What time did you say your mom would be back?” asked Charlie.
“I’m sure it’ll be late. She’s always comes in late now that she’s got that new boyfriend.”
“Don’t you get scared at night by yourself?” I asked.
“Not most of the time,” said Stephanie, looking away from me towards the box with the dresses in it. “My mom gave me the numbers to the police and fire department in case something happens.”
“Don’t you have any other family around?” asked Charlie.
“No, it’s just me and my mom.”
“Where’s the rest of your family live?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. My mom doesn’t talk about them. I don’t know where they live.”
“Why don’t she talk about them?” asked Charlie.
“I don’t know. I’m tired of answering so many questions. I don’t know everything.”
“I’m relieved because if you did know everything you’d be a know-it-all,” said Charlie and laughed.
“Well, I do know almost everything,” Stephanie said and smiled.
“We won’t be able to head out until about nine tonight,” said Charlie. “It don’t get dark until late.” With that he reached into one of his pants pockets and pulled out a roll of twenty dollar bills, separating one of the bills and handing it to Stephanie. “Here’s that twenty dollars. You can use it to buy the supplies that we need.”
“What kind of stuff do you need me to buy?” asked Stephanie.
“Pick us up some candy bars and Cokes, things like that,” said Charlie. “Do you think you can make it up to the mountain in the morning?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem. My mom will be working tomorrow. So she won’t even know I’m gone. She goes in pretty early. They start serving breakfast early at the truck stop.”
“Where will we sleep tonight?” I asked, getting more concerned about the prospect of being outside in the dark of night.
“There’s an old house about halfway up the hill where the old man used to live.”
“You mean the old man’s house is still there?” I asked.
“Yep, it’ll be a perfect place for us to stay for a while.”
“How do you know the house is still there?” asked Stephanie.
“Because I went up there once with my dad. We looked inside the windows. There was furniture inside and everything.”
“I hope he don’t come back and haunt the place,” said Stephanie.
“Don’t say that,” I said. “There’s no such a thing as ghosts.”
“I know. I was just joking.”
“I think that house is haunted,” said Charlie. “My dad said it probably was.”
“I don’t want to go to no haunted house tonight,” I said.
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts,” said Charlie.
“I don’t.”
“Then why are you being such a scaredy cat? I always thought you were a scaredy cat; now this just proves it.”
“I’m not a scaredy cat.”
“So, if you don’t believe in ghosts,” said Charlie, “then there’s nothing to worry about. Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, wanting to run and hide somewhere safe.
“Anyway, we’ll have our flashlights,” said Charlie. “If you see a ghost, just shine your flashlight on it, and it will disappear. Ghosts don’t like light. That’s why they only come out at night.”
“How do you know all this?” I asked.
“My dad told me. I used to be afraid to sleep at night because some people say that my house is haunted by ghosts, but my dad told me to just keep a flashlight on my nightstand. He said that ghosts will disappear if you shine a flashlight on them.”
“I didn’t know your house was haunted,” said Stephanie. “What kind of ghosts haunt your house?”
“Just some old Civil War ghosts, that’s all,” said Charlie. “One of them actually died in the attic after he had his leg cut off. He was hiding from Union troops. Sometimes I hear him moaning at night.”
“I thought I heard something one night when I was staying there,” I added.
“I wish I lived in such an interesting house,” said Stephanie, “but I don’t think I could sleep at night with having to worry about waking up and seeing a ghost. I’d probably be too nervous to turn the flashlight on.”
“It won’t be very much longer before it gets dark,” said Charlie, looking at his watch. “It’s almost seven now.”
I looked over at a cat clock, a swinging tale and moving eyes, hanging on the wall in the kitchen, and saw that it really was almost seven, later than I had realized. I was wishing it were earlier because I was dreading the walk up that dark road to a spooky old house. I wasn’t really sure I believed the story about how a flashlight would make ghosts disappear, but at least the flashlight offered some comfort.
Chapter 8
When the day started to grow dark, we gathered up our things and headed towards the knob. Stephanie agreed to meet us the next morning. We decided the old truck would be a perfect place for her to find us. Charlie explained to her that there was no way to get lost because the road went all the way to the truck. Like an old pro who was used to hiking at night on the lam, Charlie confidently led the way. We crossed the road in front of Stephanie’s trailer, climbed over a fence, and headed across a field away from the road. We walked quickly to avoid being seen by passing motorists. I followed Charlie, nervous, but also a little excited. I was feeling free, like an adult, but at the same time I
was afraid that our plans would collapse at any moment. I looked up at the sky and for the first time saw the Man in the Moon. I imagined that he was looking down at me, and I wondered if he knew how this would all end.
When we reached the main road, we waited a moment to make sure no vehicles were coming, then ran across it and climbed over another fence onto the next field. This field was poorly maintained, and we had to walk through tall weeds, carefully avoiding the sharp fingers of thistles. The bright moon provided enough light that we didn’t need our flashlights. Charlie suddenly tripped and fell, and I nearly landed on top of him but caught myself.
“Well, crap,” he said, standing back up and brushing himself off. “There’s a big stupid hole there.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I didn’t hurt anything. Just watch out for that hole.”
Charlie straightened up his backpack, and we continued walking. In a few minutes we reached the gravel road.
“This is it,” said Charlie. “We follow this road through the woods, and it’ll take us right up to the old house.”
“How long a walk is it?” I asked.
“It’s not too far; we could probably make it all the way to the top in an hour or two. If you keep walking on this road past the house, it takes you right to the old truck. We can clean the house up and make it the best hideout ever. I don’t think anybody goes up there anymore. They’ll never think to look for us up there.”
It became increasingly difficult to see as the thick woods enclosed the road, the moon peeking through the tangled branches only occasionally. Charlie stopped and removed two flashlights out of his backpack and turned them on. He handed one to me.
“It’s safe to use the flashlights now,” said Charlie. “I don’t think anybody will be able to see the light through these trees.”
Hearing a howling sound, we stopped suddenly.
“What’s that?” I asked, nearly dropping the flashlight.
“That’s just a coyote,” said Charlie, continuing to walk as though being attacked by a wild animal would be no big deal.
I was too afraid to move either direction until I saw that Charlie was getting away from me. I hurried to catch up to him, my legs so weak from fear that I felt like my shoes were made out of concrete.
“A coyote?” I asked
“Yeah, there’s coyotes in these woods.”
As the moon peeked through the tangled tree branches above, more coyotes began to howl. I was sure that they were alerting each other of our presence and were plotting terrible things. I became very aware of the loud crunching noise our shoes made as we stepped on the dirt and gravel road. The coyotes, with their keen sense of hearing, would easily be able to track us down. We walked for a little while without saying a word. Like the crunching sound of our footsteps, I was afraid that talking would get the coyotes attention, and they would jump out of the woods and snarl at us.
Charlie abruptly stopped and said, “Look here!” He shined his flashlight off to the right side of the road into a dark hole surrounded by large rocks. A tiny stream of water trickled from above the hole down to the loose rocks below. A refreshing cool breeze blew from within.
“It’s a cave,” I said, amazed. “I didn’t know there was a cave up here.”
“Yeah, my dad said this cave has been here for over a million years.”
“Wow.”
“The best part about it is that Jessie James used this cave as a hiding place after he robbed the Russellville bank. He stayed in here for a few days until everybody thought he was long gone, then he and his brother headed back to Missouri during the night.”
“That is outrageous,” I said. “I certainly didn’t know all this. Maybe we should go inside and stay the night like Jessie James did. We can pretend we’re the Jessie James Gang.”
“I’m not staying in there,” said Charlie. “That’s probably where the coyotes live. They run around at night, but I bet you they stay in that cave during the day. They’d be pretty angry if they came home and found us sleeping.”
“I didn’t think of that. Man, I’m glad you thought of it. I’d of had a stroke if I’d of woke up to a bunch of mad coyotes in my face.”
Charlie laughed.
“I wonder, though, why the coyotes didn’t bother Jessie James.”
“Because Jessie James had a loud gun to scare them off with,” said Charlie. Nobody bothered Jessie James, not even coyotes.”
I pointed my flashlight inside the cave, and the beam of light evaporated into darkness. I imagined being trapped inside with a family of angry, salivating coyotes blocking our exit, our only chance of escape being to go deeper into the bowels of the cave. We would surely be lost forever if we went too far into the cave and our flashlights went out.
I remembered a school field trip I had taken once to Mammoth Cave. At one point the tour guide turned off all the lights and told us to try and look at our hands. Without the light the cave was as black as ink; it was impossible to see anything. I held my hand about an inch from my face, but I could see no trace of it. As the tour guide talked in the darkness, I wondered what would happen if the lights didn’t come back on when he flipped the switch again. What if the lights never came on? We’d never be able to find our way out.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized that the cave was the last place I wanted to go. At least outside there was light, even some light at night, and we had a place to run if we ever needed to. I shuddered when I thought of what a bad idea I’d had to sleep in there.
Our short attention span fully satisfied, we left the cave and continued our long walk up the hill. I began to notice the sounds of other night creatures that surrounded us. I had often sat on my back porch at night listening to this rhythmic music, but it seemed much louder in these woods. My dad told me once that frogs made these sounds. He said they were talking to each other and courting, although I wasn’t sure at the time what he meant by courting. In addition to the frogs singing, an owl hooted from somewhere nearby. Then, to my dismay, the coyotes started howling again. I was hoping the path would lead to a time machine, one that would take me back a few days to before I had gotten myself into such a mess.
After what seemed like a very long time of walking, Charlie looked up and said, “There it is!” He pointed his flashlight in the direction of a pathway leading to a small house on the right side of the road. The house looked foreboding in the dim light, a light fog adding to the dismal atmosphere. I was sure someone was watching us from inside. A porch ran across the length of the front of the single-story house, which looked grey in the dim light. The house appeared to have once been white, but most of the paint had long since cracked and chipped away. There were two front doors with a window in the middle and a window on each side.
“I’m not going in there,” I said. “I’d rather sleep in the cave and get eaten by the coyotes.” I regretted saying such a horrible thing as soon as it came out of my mouth. I shuddered and looked around to make sure no coyotes were watching.
“You can stay out here all night if you want to, but I’m going inside and find somewhere to sleep. I’m getting tired; it’s been a long day.” With that he headed towards the house. I hesitated a moment then followed.
The porch sagged a little but seemed stable. I was expecting that we would have to break a window to get in, but the door opened easily when Charlie tried it, and we walked inside. The first room we came into, which was on the right side of the house, was mostly empty, with the exception of a few wooden chairs and a simple wooden table in front of the window. An old lantern, a book of matches beside it, rested on the table.
I was very apprehensive that we were not alone inside this house. It was the way I had felt the previous fall, the weekend before Halloween, when Charlie’s parents had driven us and some other friends to Bowling Green to go to a haunted house. I had been excited all the way there, but while waiting in line and hearing the screams of the people inside, I became more and more nervous
. I wanted to turn around and wait in the car, but Charlie wouldn’t let me. He said I’d be a chicken if I didn’t go through with it. Besides, his parents were with us, and they wouldn’t let anything happen to us. When it came our turn, someone dressed as the Grim Reaper opened a squeaky door, directed us inside, then slammed the door shut behind us. We found ourselves inside a very dark room with no idea where to go. We had to feel our way around for a while before we found the path leading to the rest of the haunted house. The whole time I was inside that dark room I had the feeling that there was someone in there, someone not of our group, someone who was waiting for the right moment to scare the living daylights out of us. And of course, since it was a haunted house, I was right. Just before we found our way out, a light flashed and illuminated a carnival clown gone wrong. The clown jumped toward us and screamed. Charlie laughed; I was closer to tears.
Now, inside this dark house, I had the same feeling that we were not alone, that at any moment a clown or some other horrible creature would jump out and scream, and this time it wouldn’t be so funny. This time we wouldn’t be able to laugh it off.
On the wall opposite the front door, a doorway led to another room that seemed even darker than the room we were in, not accounting for the light from our flashlights. Charlie, of course, walked right in like he was at home. I followed, staying close to Charlie, my hands on his shoulders the way someone might cling to an overturned boat in a sea infested with sharks. Our steps on the squeaky floor seemed to echo throughout the walls of the quiet house, and I was sure we were disturbing someone or some thing.
“I don’t like this,” I whispered. “I think someone still lives here.”
“That’s silly. No one has lived here for years,” Charlie whispered. He didn’t sound very confident.
“I think someone lives here,” I repeated. “I think everything would be covered up in cobwebs if no one lived here, like you see in the scary movies when a house is abandoned.”
“That’s just in the movies. Spiders don’t make webs in every abandoned house. They haven’t found this one yet, I guess. I’m glad it’s not full of spider webs; I hate spiders.”
Chips of Red Paint Page 9