It was All Hollows Eve. A slivered crescent moon gave little light and the damp fog hung low. I could barely see the eerie deserted farm house across the field from my old creaky lantern lit porch. I could not stop to think how spooky it was, especially on this night. Ohh, The story goes that it had once belonged to a large family of sharecroppers called the Sommers. All whom had passed together in the great influenza outbreak back in 1800’s. Well, let’s just say I am glad that my view was obscured by the tall stacks of corn stalks that had been gathered earlier in the day and placed at the ready for morrow’s work. Anyhow the steady crisp coolness of our mid-autumn season was evident by my frosted breath clouding up my bifocals and the steam rising off of my tin coffee cup. It was then that I heard the voices over yonder and across the way, down the old damp gravel road. It was young’uns. Their laughter and talking bellowed and bounced off of the now dark barren apple trees that lined the road. I smiled as I heard their candy sacks rustling and hitting against their little legs as they tried to outpace each other in hopes of being the first one to reach the next house. At the end of my driveway all motion ended in unison. It was as if they were all acting as one solitary soul. The rustling and laughter had come to a sudden stop.. They all were there; I saw them by what little light the moon provided. The moon shown through the clouds that night like an old woman peaking from behind a dirty veiled window. The faces were slowly shown to me one by one. They rounded by the Cattails that lined the ditch on the sides of the cow grate that edged the old road from my property. Their costumes did not appear to be costumes at all. These children had the faces of time written on each of them. I saw the hollowness of despair in their eyes. The clothes that covered them were tattered and torn and their faces were so drawn. Each child’s feet were bare, cracked and covered with dry mud. The littlest carried an old rag doll by the leg as it had no arms on it. Still they came forward each behind the other, saying not a word, their spirits filling the air with desperation and silence. Their withered hands and elongated fingers each clutched an old bag of paper or cloth, all reaching out to me as I sat on my crooked stairs. I handed out apples and popcorn into each empty sack my hands shaking all the while. Then they all stood together as a group and nodded their heads and smiled without showing their teeth. The elder of the bunch lifted a lantern which was glowing an odd patina of green, and they all headed away. They cross the road and climbed over an old rusted barb wire fence into a field of high grass. The brass lantern they followed echoed light through the fog, it dimmed to and fro up and down through the field up to the old Sommer’s farm house across the way. The children’s laughter started to grow a little and I heard a screen door slam. Then I noticed an old tire swing that hung from a dead maple tree rock back and forth, but I saw no child. I again glimpsed the lantern of the elder child on the porch. It flickered lower and as it did I started to holler for them to get out of their and head home. I then felt my body grow cold I took out a handkerchief and wiped my forehead. I then realized it would do no good, for this was Halloween and indeed they were already home….The lantern flicked one last time and the wind carried the sound of dried leaves and a creaking branch…
Posted on: Wed, 23 Oct 2013 11:46:55 +0000
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