On a warm summer evening in 1928 [Uncle’s name] and his nephew, 17 year-old Newton Cummings were traveling down a dirt road heading home to the Back Swamp community. It was a warm evening and the night was illuminated by the full moon that hung high in the night sky. The limbs of the tall pines that lined the swamp cast dancing shadows in the moonlight across the road. Croaking frogs filled the night air with their serenade. Occasionally, a lucky bachelor would leap across the road pursuing a response he received from the other side. It was a peaceful evening along the swamp. The two men sat leisurely on the buckboard of the wagon. The horse kept a steady clip and the wagon creaked and leaned with the terrain of the dirt road. As the two rode along, Newton noticed his uncle grip the reins, lean forward and squint his eyes. Newton turned his head from his uncle to see what had caught his attention. “What’s that coming yonder?” Newton asked. “Looks like somebody on a bicycle.” his uncle replied. “Boy he is going fast! He is speeding down the road!” Newton exclaimed. The wagon pressed on as the bicycle came closer in the near distance. They could see the man’s legs pedaled hard and fast, both of his hands gripped the handlebars and the he leaned in to move faster. As the rider came closer, Newton observed and said, “He is speeding as fast as an automobile.” The horse slowed and was jostled by the speed of the fast approaching bicycler. Newton composed himself to hold onto the reins and assure his horse that everything was ok - even though he wasn’t sure himself. Soon the rider was in sight and they could both clearly see the man and the bike speeding right toward them. Even in the dark of the deceptive night and dancing moonlit shadows, something about the rider didn’t make sense. The men could make out every detail of the man: his super human legs pedaling the bike, the leaned in torso of the body, the dark clothing. They could hear the sandy soil spin around the tires as they spun around and around on the dirt road. He was dressed in all black clothing and the tails of his black overcoat were flapping widely in the wind created from his momentum. Instantly, their eyes both widened in shock and fear as both their bottom jaws slightly fell open to breathe in more air. One important human feature was missing: the bicycler had no head! [Uncle] quickly steered the wagon off to the side of the road to make plenty of room for the phantom to pass by. As the rider rode next to the wagon, the body controlling the bicycle leaned up and turned towards them as if to acknowledge the two men. He flew passed them in an instant, but one that seemed to pass in slow motion sending a rush of terror through their bodies. “What was that? Newton frightfully exclaimed. “It’s some kind of headless horseman” his terrified uncle replied. Scared out of their wits; both men quickly flipped around on the buckboard to see if the phantom was still riding or had changed his focus to Newton and his uncle. As soon as they turned around they saw that the rider was still speeding down the road on his intense quest, seeming to have no interest in the two men on the wagon. Relieved and in a shaking voice, Newton turned to his uncle and said, “Where do you think he is going?” Cold beads of sweat rolled down his uncle’s face as he tried to compose himself from crippling fear. Somber, he replied, “Looking for his head I guess.” [Uncle] popped the reins and the spooked horse leapt into a swift gallop. The men headed home as fast as they could with Newton occasionally looking over his shoulder for the booger on the bicycle.
Posted on: Mon, 07 Apr 2014 00:22:00 +0000