Continuing that fateful night of storytelling on the edge of Alsopp Park...

My Friend, the Witch

Kelli and I weren’t what you’d call best friends. We liked to hang out together. Most of the other people around the school thought we were both kind of weird. Naturally we gravitated toward each other as fellow misfits.

One day she told me that she was a witch and had learned how to do magic. Of course I figured it was a joke. “Does that mean you’re going to turn Mrs. Hampton into a toad or something, I asked?”

Kelli laughed. “No, I can’t do anything that far out. But I can do some pretty neat stuff. You’ll see tomorrow!”

The next day Mrs. Hampton walked into her classroom in between classes when there was nobody else in there, and came running right back out. “My room!” she cried. “It’s…it’s all upside down!”

She wouldn’t go back into her room until another teacher agreed to go in there with her. Then they both came running back out jabbering about how the room was all upside down! They ran and got the principal. While they were going to fetch him, some students looked into the room. They said the room was all upside—furniture on the ceiling, light fixtures sticking up from the floors, everything. Word spread around the halls like wildfire.

Then the principal arrived. He peered into the room and said he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. The teachers looked inside, and sure enough it looked just like normal.

Over the next couple of days, the same thing happened in several different classrooms. It got so if you saw a teacher coming quietly out of a classroom, with a strange look on her face, you knew she had just seen something weird and was afraid to tell anybody about it. It happened to some students too. Half the school thought the other half was going crazy. Kelli and I has some good laughs.

Then one day the first girls’ P.E. class of the day went into the gym and came running out saying that they heard a man in their dressing room going “Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba. Ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba” over and over again like some ‘50s doo-wop singer. The P.E. coach and everybody heard it. They wouldn’t go in that part of the gym again until the principal and the janitor had checked it out. They heard the sound when they approached the dressing room, but couldn’t find anybody in there.

It happened to more classes over the next few days. The school finally just about tore that end of the gym apart looking for hiding places or hidden microphones. They couldn’t find anything. Kelli and I had quite a few laughs about that one too.

We further laughed when word got around that guys were starting to see strange apparitions in the boys’ restroom on the eastern end of the main building. I personally saw one guy running down the hall holding his britches up with one hand and screaming that something was out to get him. I never did hear exactly what it was they kept thinking they saw. There were all kinds of rumors. All I knew for sure is that soon you could see guys walking toward the west end of the building during every classroom break and using the guys’ room there. Sometimes they had to wait in line!

It was around that time that Kelli invited me over to her house one evening to see how she worked her magic. She spent a lot of evenings home alone—her parents were divorced, and her older brother was away in college, and her mother worked nights a lot. Kelli took me into her room and showed me where she had hidden a large and obviously very old book written in what looked like Latin, as near as I could tell. She also had a strange red candle, and a wand that she said was made out of hazel wood.

She opened the book to a certain place, and lit the candle, and took wand in hand. Then she began chanting rapidly and rhythmically in what I guess was supposed to be Latin. It was the weirdest thing I ever heard! If you can imagine the Spice Girls—does anybody still remember them?—chanting fast in Latin you might get some idea of what it sounded like. Not that much like it, but I can’t think of anything closer. Anyway, she chanted and waved her wand, and then she blew out the candle.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Yup!” she said. “Of course it took a lot of study and practice to get where I could do that.”

I asked her where she got the book and candle and wand. She wouldn’t tell me. Then I asked her what the spell she’d just cast was supposed to do. “You’ll see soon,” she said.

After that Mrs. Hampton started coming to school looking very worn-down and nervous, like she hadn’t been able to sleep nights. Word got around that she had been telling some of the other teachers about seeing strange apparitions around her house at night. It was said that she was too afraid to sleep. Other teachers were worried that she was starting to crack up. Kelli laughed when she heard about all of that.

I didn’t. To me it sounded cruel. I told Kelli as much. She didn’t want to hear it.

Around the same time Kelli started dating a certain really good-looking guy at school. Before then Mr. Good-Looking had never given her the time of day. Now he was suddenly fawning over her to the point where everybody noticed. I knew Kelli must have bewitched him. That got me mad! Mind you, I wasn't jealous! Actually I thought Mr. Good-Looking was kind of a jerk, good-looking or not. But it was embarrassing to see how he had begun humiliating himself for her, because he thought he loved her. It just wasn’t right to make somebody do that.

One day Mrs. Hampton didn’t make it into school. Rumor had it that she’d had to go to the hospital with a nervous breakdown or something. That was when I decided I had to act.

Kelli had a date with Mr. Good-Looking that evening. She had also mentioned to me that her mother wasn’t home. I went to Kelli’s house after it got dark and sneaked inside. Don’t ask me how I did it. Let’s just say I’ve got some secret skills of my own! I found the strange book, the candle, and the wand in their hiding place in Kelli’s room and took them.

In a wooded spot over on the edge of town I covered Kelli’s magical paraphernalia with dry leaves and twigs and set it all on fire. I was kind of afraid what might happen. This huge column of fire blazed up, as high as the treetops. For a moment I was afraid I’d just made the biggest, and maybe the last, mistake of my life! Then the fire died down and burned normally until everything was just ashes.

A day or two later Kelli came storming up to me at school first thing in the morning. She said she’d noticed that her stuff was missing, and she knew it had to be me, and she wanted to know what I’d done with it. I neither confirmed nor denied anything.

Kellie just got madder and madder. Finally she told me that I was on her list, and I’d better watch out. That scared me. I hoped against hope that I’d really destroyed the source of her power.

Evidently I had, because nothing inexplicable ever happened to me. Kelli gave me the silent treatment until the semester ended. Her family moved away that summer. Sometimes I still wonder whatever happened to her. But I’m not too sorry that I never saw her again!

Some of the others said that my story was the best one yet. “I don’t know,” I said. “Amy’s was pretty hard to beat.”

“I guess Kelli’s name is another case of names changed to protect the guilty?” said Clay. “Like Amy’s vampire date? And how about these secret skills you’ve got?”

I just rolled my eyes.

“Ape’s story is going to be hard to top,” Amy said generously. (Yes, sometimes friends call me “Ape.” It’s short for “April.” I don't look like an ape!)

“Who’s next?”

“I’ve got a good one!” said Tyler.

A couple of people groaned. “Not anything like that other one, I hope!” said Jamie.

“No, it’s not like that one. This is a real ghost story. At least some of you have probably even heard of the place before. But there’s a part of the story that most people don’t know….

Up From Sandy Crossing

About an hour and half south of here, on Highway 67, is a little town called Gurdon. It’s an old sawmill and railroad town. When I was growing up I used to visit relatives there.

Anybody who saw Gurdon for the first time might think that it was a weird place. You see strange things passing through there. Like the little banners hanging along Main Street with images of a cartoon devil on them. And there’s a big mural on one building that has a pair of gigantic black cats arching their backs. And beside the cats on the wall there’s a painting of a train, and near the train a headless man holding a lantern.

If you know the stories behind the images you’ll know that Gurdon’s not nearly as sinister a place as it may look. The cartoon devils are the mascot of the local high school football team, the Go-Devils. The big black cats are the symbol of a lumberman’s fraternity that was originally founded in Gurdon over a hundred years ago. And the headless man with the lantern is the Gurdon Light.

You may have heard of the Gurdon Light. Just north of town there’s a railroad that leaves the main line and heads up to the northwest through the woods into the foothills of the Ouachita Mountains. It goes to Glenwood, and Norman, and Mount Ida. A couple of miles outside of Gurdon the railroad crosses the state highway at a place called Sandy Crossing.

If you walk up the tracks from Sandy Crossing at night, toward a more isolated crossing a couple miles away, chances are you might see the Gurdon Light. The Light looks like a lantern floating up along the tracks, where there’s not supposed to be anybody. Lots of people have seen it. My dad and my uncle and my cousin Blake, for instance. I went looking for it myself once when I was younger. All I saw some kind of tiny flickering light way up the tracks. People I’ve talked to say that they’ve seen a brighter light that moves from side to side for a moment and then disappears. It comes in different colors.

Supposedly there was once a horrible accident on the railroad. A conductor or engineer or something was decapitated. Ever since then, they say he’s been walking up and down the tracks at night with a lantern, looking for his head.

Of course Gurdon’s not the only place with a legend like that. It’s not even the only town in Arkansas with a railroad light. Crossett has one, and I think Newport does too. There are others in other states. The Gurdon Light is one of the best known, though. It has even been investigated by one of those TV real-life mystery shows.

There’s no question it exists. Too many people have seen it, and more than once. The question is, what is it? Investigators say it’s not car headlights shining through the trees. Some think it’s some kind of swamp gas or natural phosphorescence. Some think maybe it’s a piezoelectric “earthlight” caused by local quartz crystal deposits.

And then there’s my cousin Blake. He’s convinced that there are ghosts out there, and not just the ghost of a guy with a lantern. He’s seen it for himself. Well, not exactly seen it…

Back when Blake was still in high school he and a buddy of his named Travis were hanging out one winter evening, feeling kind of bored. They decided to go looking for the Light. Travis had seen it before. Blake had just seen a little flickering like I later saw that disappointing time I went looking for it.

They got in Travis’ pickup and drove up the state highway to Sandy Crossing. The usual procedure in looking for the light is to park at Sandy Crossing and start walking up the tracks toward the northwest. You usually have to go a couple of miles before you can see anything. Blake and Travis noticed that there weren’t any other vehicles parked near Sandy Crossing that evening. It looked like they’d have the railroad all to themselves.

They walked up the tracks for over half an hour. It just seemed to get colder and colder. They huddled in their jackets, shivering. No wonder there wasn’t anybody else out there looking for the light! They were starting to talk about turning back when they saw something sitting on one of the rails in the moonlight.

It was a nickel sitting on the track! They knew all about putting coins on the tracks and letting the trains flatten them out into featureless little metal ovals. Kids in small towns by railroads do that all the time. It looked like somebody out looking for the light had had a wild impulse and put down a nickel. Maybe they’d done it earlier that evening, or maybe the night before. The railroad line they were on only ran trains about once a week, so it could take a while for a nickel on the track to get squashed. Blake and Travis just left it there and kept walking.

They hadn’t gone far when they saw a light up the tracks. It was bright—brighter than any version of the Light either of them had ever seen or heard of. And it didn’t move from side to side, or disappear after just a moment. It was way too big to be a lantern or a flashlight.

What really startled them was the sound. Everybody who’s ever spent a night in Gurdon knows what a train sounds like at night. There’s a busy main line running right through town. What Blake and Travis heard didn’t sound like the trains they knew. Those were modern diesel engines with big, blaring air horns. What they heard was a steam whistle. The kind of whistle that trains hadn’t used in a long, long time.

For a moment they just stood there like scared deer. The light got closer, and the sounds got louder. They could hear the engine chugging. Finally they scrambled down off of the railroad embankment and into the edge of the nearby woods.

A moment later the light zoomed right by them, with a blast of wind and sound. They heard railcars creaking, and wheels going clickety-clack. The wind whipped at their clothes and faces.

But after the light went by, they didn't see a thing! Just the tracks standing there in the moonlight, empty as could be, and the trees clearly visible on the other side of the tracks.

Then the wind stopped blowing beside them. They stood and listened as the sounds receded in the distance. Finally the woods around them were quiet again.

Blake and Travis didn’t want to get up on those tracks again after that. But they had to—the railroad was the only pathway back to the road! They kept their flashlights on all the way back. A little way back toward town, they saw something glinting among the track-ballast rocks between the rails. Travis bent over and picked it up. It was a little metal oval, as flat and smooth as could be.

“Man, I think this is the same nickel we saw on the track a while ago,” Travis said.

“It can’t be,” Blake said. “It’s probably just a coin somebody put down to be mashed a long time ago and forgot about.”

“If it’s been laying here all this time, it ought to be cold,” said Travis. “This one still feels a little bit warm! Here!”

He handed the flattened coin to Blake. It did feel warm, as if warmed by heavy friction.

Blake and Travis both still swear when they tell that story that it’s all true. Most people find it hard to believe. They’ve only got one piece of evidence to offer—a flattened-out coin like anybody who wants to can make any day of the week on the tracks in downtown Gurdon.

Still…I know Blake. He can be a goofball sometimes, but he’s not the kind that lies to you. It’s enough to make me wonder….

We all agreed that Tyler’s second story was a lot better than that awful first one. Most of us had indeed heard of the Gurdon Light. We’d never heard of any ghost trains.

“Your cousin really told you about a ghost train near Sandy Crossing?” Jamie wondered.

“Yeah, that one’s a true story,” Tyler said. “Anyway it’s true that Blake and Travis told me that story! It’s not like I was there with them. If it is supposed to be true, I kind of wonder why I’ve never heard anybody else talking about ghost trains down there.”

“Who’s next?” Amy asked.

“I’ll go next,” Sara said.

Sara’s a quiet sort of person. When you’re quiet people often figure you must not have much imagination. That’s something Sara has plenty of! I figured when she offered to tell the next story that it was going to be good. You can be the judge….

Death Stalks Spadra Hollow

On intensely cold winter nights like this the house was nearly impossible to heat. It was old, and it had little insulation and no central heating. Only the living room could be kept even tolerably warm. The bedrooms were hopeless. Mama could manage well enough in her room if she bundled up. Mandy and Hannah couldn’t. When it got this cold they had to join Callie in the living room, on the hide-a-bed sofa that she normally had to herself.

As usual her sisters gave Callie back-talk when she told them it was time to turn off the TV and get ready for bed. A thirteen-year-old sister didn’t carry the same natural authority as a mother. Still, the knowledge that Mama would back Callie up kept them from dragging their feet for too long. Eventually Callie got them in bed and turned out the living room light.

Callie had four years on Mandy and six on Hannah. She could stay up later. Of course she couldn’t watch TV, so she sat in the kitchen and read until her own bedtime. She was glad that she had stocked up well on books during their weekly visit to the Johnson County Library in Clarksville. Right now she was on something of a fantasy kick—witch tales, vampire tales, heroic tales, ghost stories, folklore—every kind of fantastic story she could find.

Her current read was a juvenile fantasy adventure story that was turning out to be less interesting than Callie had hoped. She yawned, and shivered in her seat at the kitchen table. It was such a cold night! She had done everything she could to get the most out of that space heater in the living room. Precious little heat made its way from there into the adjoining kitchen. The warm bed would no doubt feel good!

Callie yawned again and kept trying to read. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until she had become too tired to keep her eyes open. She could never sleep well when Mama was gone late at night. Mama had often had to work graveyard shift in the months since she had gotten that job at the poultry plant in Clarksville. Her schedule left the girls alone at home until the early morning hours.

Being home with no adults worried Callie. Mama’s half-hour drive into Clarksville, and the half-hour drive back in those early morning hours, up a winding road with deer crossings, worried her even more. She’d heard stories of drivers coming to grief on their way home from working graveyard shift.

Callie stepped into the living room to check on the girls. They were now fast asleep. She got her book and took a seat in Grandma’s old easy chair, using the little lamp beside it to read by. It felt much better in the warm living room!

She loved the house. It was full of memories of visits with Grandma. Callie had always loved those visits, and loved walking around the hollow and rambling through the woods around the Ozark foothills. Grandma had left the house to Mama so that she and the girls would have a place to stay.

Still…she wished, especially on nights like this, that they could find someplace to live in Clarksville so that Mama didn’t have that long drive to and from work. Mama made better money at that poultry plant job than she had ever made anywhere else. Even so, they couldn’t really afford anyplace better. At least with the money she was saving they would be able to fix up the house some. Callie looked forward to having air conditioning, and some better heating.

She kept yawning over and over. So tired! More than usual. She wondered why. Callie felt her head nodding. The book slipped from between her fingers and dropped to the floor with a soft thump.

Then she started awake. And she realized suddenly that there was somebody else in the room with her and her sisters. Over by the living room windows, on the edge of the reading lamp’s circle of light, stood a tall, dark-clad, pale-faced figure.

Callie gasped. How in the world had somebody else gotten into their room? She slowly rose to her feet, afraid to say anything. Then she felt her heart freeze. The dim, dark figure’s face wasn’t just white. It was—it was the face of a skull!

The Grim Reaper…she’d heard stories about Death taking on the form of a shrouded skeleton. Death was standing right in front of her. Watching her. Not saying anything.

“Why…why are you here?” she managed to ask, in a small voice.

The skull-faced figure said nothing. Now Callie remembered that you were only supposed to be able to see Death if it had come for you—or at least somebody close to you. Was it coming for her? For Mandy? Or Hannah? Or maybe all of them?

That had to be it. Death had come to collect them. She could feel her life draining away—feel herself getting weaker and dizzy.

Why? They were all so young! She couldn’t let Death come for her—or her sisters—without a fight!

She slowly edged around the room. The skull-face kept facing her. What could she fight with?

She bumped into something on the floor. It was…Mama’s clothes iron! Callie had left it sitting out after ironing clothes in the living room earlier that day. Somehow she’d forgotten to put it up along with the ironing board. She reached down and grabbed it. Through her dimming eyes she saw Death continuing to watch her, impassive still.

“Go away!” in a strangely weak, croaking voice. With a sudden burst of strength she hefted the iron and hurled it at the figure of Death with all her might. It passed right through the skull-faced apparition. Callie heard glass shattering.

Then she felt terribly cold.

Then she didn’t feel anything.

When Mama got home she found Callie lying huddled on the floor and the others in bed, all shivering in the chill coming through a broken living room window. When she ran to Callie and shook her she seemed barely able to rouse her. It was the same with Mandy and Hannah.

Frantically, she called her sister Carleen, who lived only a couple minutes’ drive away. Carleen’s husband was away on his long-haul trucking job, but Carleen came right over. By the time she arrived the girls were finally coming around. Carleen found her sister sitting with Callie, listening to her babbling something about Death coming to get her.

She then noticed that the broken window had been closed all the way. She glanced down at the space heater. “Oh my word, Cindy!” she cried. “Don’t tell me you left them girls here all alone with the windows closed all the way! You ain’t supposed do that with a kerosene heater! If something hadn’t of broke that window, all three of ‘em would of suffocated!”

Mama now saw for herself that the window had been closed. “I know I left that window open.” She turned to Callie. “Callie! Did you close that window all the way? I told you not to!”

“I’m sorry, Mama,” Callie muttered. “It was so cold!”

Mama hugged Callie tight. “Girl, I like to lost all three of you!” She started crying.

“It’s okay,” said Callie, still in a daze. “I didn’t let the Grim Reaper get us.”

“No, Sweetheart,” Mama said between her tears. “You didn’t.”

“So did she really see the Grim Reaper, or was she just hallucinating from the fumes?” Jamie asked, when Sara had finished.

“Like she’s going to tell you that!” Lee said. “Don’t you know dramatic ambiguity when you hear it?”

“I know it’s the creepiest story we’ve heard so far,” said Amy. “It gave me the chills!”

Already having the chills might explain why Amy nearly jumped out of her skin when we heard a loud hooting sound outside. I saw her jump more than anybody else—and I’m pretty sure we all jumped at least a little bit. It’s awfully startling to hear an owl hooting in the city, even if you’re on the edge of Alsopp Park.

“Funny-sounding hoot owl,” Tyler said.

I had to agree. I’ve heard owls hoot before, but that one made a production out of it. “That owl sounded like it was kind of crazy,” I said.

Clay patted my foot and ankle. He’d been doing that—you’ll remember that he was sitting on the floor by my end of the couch—off and on all evening. I wasn’t complaining. “Oh, he’s probably not crazy. Just complaining about having to sit out on a limb on a cold, rainy night.”

I glanced over at Amy and Sara’s living-room clock. We didn’t have long to go until midnight. Where did the time get off to? But we weren’t through yet. There was still time for more stories. Jamie had the next one.