The Legend Unleashed. L.S. Strange
live to be adults, a woman would give birth to seven or eight. Many babies died before they were even a year old. Besides, fifty-seven was a ripe old age back then,” Scott explained. An unsettling feeling came over him as he noticed the small Kewpie baby doll on the next grave, the grave of a child. As he stood up and looked around, he saw many Kewpie dolls throughout the cemetery, all on the graves of children. Then, he turned his attention back to Michael who had walked over to another grave.
“Albert Finnigan. Treasured husband taken to soon by consumption. Born in County Meade 1803. Died August 31, 1834. Isn’t consumption that lung disease?”
“Yes. Tuberculosis. It eats away the tissues of the lungs until you die because you can’t breathe. Now you can take medicine to cure it, but back then, they had no cure. It was a slow and painful death,” Scott answered.
“That’s what Doc Holiday had!”
“Right, it was called consumption because it consumed or ate away at you.”
Michael wandered farther into the cemetery. Scott pointed out another head stone.
“Here lies Lester Hawkins who came to strike it rich on ore but died from a bullet on the bar room floor. Birth date unknown. Died April 5, 1859.”
“How many people do you think came here to dig for gold?” Michael asked.
“I don’t know, thousands I guess. Central City was a mining town. They were called boomtowns because once the word was out that gold had been discovered, people rushed in. Soon the town population exploded in a boom.”
“So when the gold was gone, the people left, and then they turned into ghost towns, right?”
“Right! How’d you get so smart?”
Michael grinned. “Hey, look at this one.” They walked over to the corner of the cemetery, far away from the other plots. As they drew near, Scott stopped in his tracks.
A chill had caught the air and the sounds of nature halted as clouds suddenly moved in, blocking the sun, creating a gloomy atmosphere. Before them was a blank stone. Nothing living grew around it for several feet in all directions. The ground was bare. A small sapling was the only living thing, which had sprouted just outside the fence of the cemetery.
“What does it mean?” Michael asked.
Scott just starred. He didn’t know who was there, but the message was clear and not good. After several seconds of inquiring eyes boring into his head, Scott spoke, “Well, that’s the grave of something evil.”
“No way.”
Scott’s silence caused goosebumps to pop up on Michael’s arms as a shiver ran down his spine. It’s one thing to talk about wicked things and quite another to be face-to-face with one.
“Sweet!”
Scott’s expression continued to be sober as he went on, “The people of the area believed whatever they buried there was so evil that they refused to honor it with any acknowledgement. They placed one barren thin stone to mark the spot and let everyone know, kind of like a sign, to stay away. See, it’s placed out here on the other side of the fence, an outcast, and not allowed to be buried in hallowed ground.”
As Scott answered, Michael was excited and engrossed hanging on Scott’s every word. His heart was also pounding wildly, not from fear but from the adrenaline that shot through his veins pumping him up. A slight grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he waited, his anticipation growing, for his dad to go on.
“What if it was some evil town killer who liked to kill kids then eat them?”
“No, nothing like that. They were usually hung and then burned, nothing left to burry. People like that only exist today because laws about punishment protect them. You know, men who have been on death row for years because the state keeps giving them appeal after appeal.”
“Oh.” Michael became silent, seeming somewhat disappointed.
Scott took this opportunity to move away and change the subject. Funny though, as soon as they left the unmarked grave, the chill subsided, the clouds cleared, and the warmth of the sunny morning returned. He didn’t dare to look back. His instincts told him not to. Was it just a feeling or was it more? Scott didn’t remember how he knew about the grave; he just knew it.
“You’ll tell me the real story later, right?” Michael asked.
What a sharp kid! He could read Scott’s inner feelings just as an adult would be able to tune in that something was wrong.
“Maybe,” he answered.
Scott allowed his son to wander around reading the headstones for several minutes while he smoked a cigarette. No smoking in the van. He kept a watchful eye on him to make sure Michael kept away from that spooky grave. When he was finished, he called to him, “Come on, can’t waste all morning!”
Michael reluctantly came back to where Scott stood, resting against the entryway. They strode to the van and got in. Scott tried to start it, but the engine wouldn’t turn over. It just clicked as he turned the key.
“What the hell!” he spat. Scott was immediately angry, and his blood began to boil. He had put the van in the shop to make sure everything was in good condition before starting this trip. He tried to start it several more times to no avail. Finally exasperated, he started swearing as he pounded the steering wheel with his fist. He pulled the hood latch, threw open the door, and got out.
Mumbling under his breath, he jerked up the hood and put the metal jack arm in place to hold it up. Scott took in a quick gasp, and his body jerked in one horrified spasm. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and his blood ran cold. He couldn’t believe his eyes! He was frozen still, paralyzed.
“There is no way this could happen. It can’t be. Everyone’s still asleep. They would’ve heard something.” His mind continued to race. “The latch to open the hood is inside, and with it so quiet out here, any door being opened or closed would echo loudly,” Scott thought aloud.
He slowly began to shake his head in disbelief. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, some rational and some not. There before him, the distributor wire cap had been disconnected and was set to the side on top of the battery. He knew this was something that didn’t just pop off on its own. Two clips had to be pried back, and then it still had to be pulled very hard to get it off. Small bits of leaves and twigs were stuck and wrapped around the wire.
At that very moment, he felt he was being watched. Scott whirled around to confront his unseen foe. Nothing was there. His eyes darted over the landscape desperately hunting for something amiss. Everything remained in order; as it should be. Then he heard it. A soft whisper on the light breeze, “J–o–h–n.”
He broke out in a cold sweat. This horrific feeling was burrowing into the depths of his soul. With shaking fingers, he tried to reconnect the wire cap. After three attempts, it went into place. He noticed more leaves and vines on the ground at his feet. With trembling hands, he picked up the vines and cast them to the side of the van and out of view. Scott then closed the hood with a loud bang. Swiftly he got back in the van, closed the door and locked it. The engine started with a loud roar and burst into life. With his nerves jumping, he yanked down the shifter and stepped on the gas. The van shot off down the dirt road leaving the cemetery far behind.
Chapter 4
Scott kept checking the side mirror as if he expected to see someone, no something, looking back at him. Soon the cemetery was out of sight. With that, he heaved a sigh of relief and could concentrate on the road ahead.
“What’s wrong?” Michael asked.
“What?” Scott replied, barely realizing that Michael was talking.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why…what?” Scott stammered trying to think of something quick. “Oh, a loose wire.” He hoped it sounded convincing, although it sounded