In the matter of my childhood friend and lover, Elizabeth, I remained filled with empathy and an overwhelming sorrow for her situation. Her mother, who had struggled with depression and delusions all of her life, was missing one year ago today. Although, the recognition of the anniversary appeared the most difficult of all days for us, we kept to our routine. The journey began in the early morning hours before dawn, as it has every weekend since her disappearance. We rented a Jeep, packed the vehicle with supplies, and made our way out of Manhattan for the winding roads of Orange County, NY, our hometown.
While the dreadful, inevitable conclusion lay on the tip of my tongue, I dare not speak of it to Elizabeth, in fear of driving her closer to madness. Her inability to accept the truth and move past the possible death of her mother frustrated me more than I would have had her know. The continual begging for closure weighed heavy on her heart and fed from her mind.
There would be no corpse for a last touch, no happy memories to swarm over at the funeral to make one feel better that they had even known the person, and no rest, only hope. Without the remains of a loved one, hope plummets into one’s heart, turning common sense on its back and snubbing its nose at probability. The struggle of hope feeds and remains until proven wrong. How dreadful that human emotion.
Our journey that weekend started disastrously. Twice, I pulled the Jeep over to the side of the road on the New York State Thruway, and held Elizabeth’s long, blonde hair as she cried.
In a matter-of fact tone, she told me to get off the highway and had me follow a path she swore came to her in a dream last night. Every Friday night for the last year, she would awaken, enlightened from a vision from beyond, showing her where to go find her mother. I saw that this weekend would be no different.
Not having seen a car for over an hour worried me. I left the comforts of rural life long ago and acclimated to the concrete and hustle of the city easily. The woods held too many shadows and unfamiliar noises. Sounds I had long forgotten and could only endure for short periods.
The endless nights spent with Elizabeth on dream interpretation, séances and downright flirtation with the occult is the only memory I could conjure from my childhood in a woodsy small town. She always tried to explain or understand her mother’s plight. I, being a contemporary person, believed in antidepressants. Using them until one could face their own truths would be the path I would have taken.
“Wow,” she whispered, “This place is beautiful.”
I grunted,” There is nothing here and the road is getting rough.”
“Just take it slow. It’s stunning here!” she exclaimed, rolling down her window.
I had been unprepared to see what lie ahead. The darkness and worry lifted from her face, the lines all but disappeared. She looked her twenty-five years the first time since her mother’s disappearance. Turning her head to me, she smiled, her eyes gleaming as her face gave off a pure, undisturbed radiance.
My heart lightened, hoping she would be willing to make love with me looking exactly as she did now. I contemplated pulling off to the side of the dirt road, all the while envisioning ripping the clothes from her hourglass figure, and having my way with her, but fate stepped in one minute sooner.
The sounds of a buzzer filled the air as two lights blinked on the Jeep computer panel. A siren wailed as the power steering was lost. Holding tightly, I gripped the wheel, bringing the Jeep off the road onto the grassy surface.
“Oh great,” I moaned,” what the hell now?”
“What happened? Did we stall?”
“Yes,” I replied, searching for the hood pop underneath the steering wheel.
After about twenty minutes of checking hoses, the alternator and fluid levels, I concluded I had no idea what the problem was. Once I took my head out from the underneath the hood, a sickening feeling swept over my body. The day was close to an end. The welcoming trees of afternoon gave way to the mercy of dusk. Their flowery buds hidden now by the twilight no longer gave the impression of serenity. The sun’s energy started to fade and intermittently hid itself behind the cloud covering.
“I saw a road that looked like it held a town about a half-mile back,” I announced, “We need to grab our gear and get going before dark. I don’t want to be stuck out here in the pitch black.”
Elizabeth smiled, grabbed her bag, and we made our way, hand-in hand down the gravel road. I breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the small road I saw earlier. Back within the woods there was a small town. I could clearly see four buildings and was hoping to find a gas station with a mechanic on duty. I realized I had forgotten the keys in the Jeep but I was not going to turn around to retrieve them. It was dark already and I had experienced enough of the woods for one evening.
The first building we stumbled upon was a small turn-of the century hotel. Once inside, the presence of the plump, elderly woman behind the counter allowed sweet relief to rush into my body. We were not alone. I had gotten myself so worked up about the woods, that my heart had begun skipping beats during our foot journey. I admit it. I have never been a big fan of the woods or the dark.
“Welcome,” she said. Her smile was warm and sincere, “are you the two that have broken down on the side of the road?”
“Yes. Yes, ma’am we are, “I answered, “I was hoping there was a mechanic in town that could,” but before I could finish my sentence, she spoke over me.
“Oh, dear, Billy has already made his way out to the site to bring back your vehicle to fix it.”
“Really?” I was puzzled. I saw no one the road while we walked to town. How could they possibly know we were stuck? In addition, why would they tow us before speaking of a price? My suspicions of foul play stood immediately raised.
“How much will he charge us?”
“Please, do not concern yourself with cost. We don’t care of money here. Would you like two rooms or one? I also have two rooms that are a joined by a single door. It is most lovely. Holds a fireplace and a large claw-foot tub.”
“I don’t want to rent a room until I speak with the mechanic. Possibly, we can be on our way within the hour.”
“No, take the room, Chris,” I would love to stay here the night,” Elizabeth said, smiling at the old woman.
“See. Don’t want to disappoint the young woman here. Just need to remind you that checkout time is 7:45 a.m. prompt.”
The old woman made her way behind a curtain and within seconds reappeared with a set of keys,” Here you go,” she handed me the keys and continued, “dinner will be served in an hour. I have made fresh bread, a wonderful venison stew, which is perfect on a chilly spring night such as this, and twice-baked potatoes.”
Smiling, I took the keys from the old woman and Elizabeth and I made our way upstairs to our guest room. My curiosity was getting the better of me. I had been thoroughly mystified over the gracious hospitality offered to us. Where exactly were we? I needed to make my way back downstairs to speak with the old woman. Once Elizabeth stepped into the shower to freshen up, I did just that.
By the time I made my way back down, there was a young, lanky man holding my Jeep keys in his hand and eating some bread that the old woman have given to him. The grease stains randomly placed on his t-shirt and blue jeans caused me to assume he was the mechanic.
“Hi. What’s going on with my Jeep?” I asked.
The young man turned to me and smiled,” Just a little mishap. Buster, the mechanic is looking at it but it’ll be ready to go by 7:45 a.m. tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, that is check out time, ya know,” the old woman smiled.
Feeling uneasy, I shook my head and opened my New York State map,” Can you possibly tell me the closest town here?”
“Yes, it’s Blooming Grove. You’re in Blooming Grove,” he smiled.
“I grew up in Blooming Grove and never recall seeing this place.”
“Well, we are a bit off the beaten path, but we are Blooming Grove nonetheless.”
“Can you show me on the map?” I asked, laying it on the counter.
“Afraid I would not know where to begin,” he replied, smiling.
“And, you ma’am?”
Giggling, she whispered,” No. I do not think I was ever able to read a map. Especially one from today.”
What had driven the people of this town to true altruism? I wondered. It has been a long while since anyone had offered me something from the kindness of his heart. The hospitality made me uncomfortable. Though they both stood looking at me with their smiles intact, I could not raise any expression on my face. I stared back until the woman announced Elizabeth’s arrival and then proclaimed it dinnertime.
One by one, the town folk made their way into the inn and took their place at the long, dinner table. The buzz grew louder as the exchange of affection took place. Kisses, handshakes, and hugs shared as laughter became the choice of sound. Two children giggled while being reprimanded for running around the table.
Although the thought of Venison stew had sickened me when she first mentioned it, I now licked my lips, enthralled with the smell and felt anxious about putting the spoon to my mouth. My stomach growled as the fresh bread made its way to the table.
After the most delicious meal I had ever eaten in my life, Elizabeth and I bid the crowd farewell. I thanked all twenty-five of them for their hospitality and inspiring stories of man’s goodness.
“Imagine living in a town where everyone eats dinner together? This is amazing,” whispered Elizabeth while grabbing onto my arm. Her spirits lifted and her walk invoked a bit of bop to it. Her hair was shinning by the candlelight and I could not help myself but smile as we made our way back to our room.
“Don’t you think it’s peculiar that an entire town closes down everyday from 7:45 am to 10 a.m.? What goes on during those hours?” I asked.
“What are you talking about?” She questioned, stopping midway up the stairs.
“Didn’t you hear what they were saying about how we must leave by 7:45 because no outsiders are allowed inside the town?”
“I didn’t hear that.”
“Well, just about every person sitting at that table reminded me over and over that check out time is 7:45. Your Jeep will ready at 7:45 and if you would like to come back for another night, please come back after 10 a.m. I mean what the fuck is that?”
“Shh,” she put her fingers to my lips,” they will hear you cursing.”
I started making my way back up the stairs. Upon opening the door, I could tell the old woman has visited the room. Her smell lingered in the air. Fresh fruit and chocolate garnished the nightstand. Behind the sweets stood a bottle of chilled white wine and a pitcher of water. The room was aglow as flames from the fireplace danced comforting shadows on the walls. The room took us back in time. The crisp, clean sheets, the low lights, and the neatness of the room made it so inviting.
“So romantic,” Elizabeth exclaimed, jumping into my arms. Her heat was overwhelming. Her smell most desirable. I had forgotten my concerns of the peculiar town folks within minutes. Her warm, inviting way caressed my otherwise weary body. Passionate love-making was the order of the night.
Hours later, awakened by an unfamiliar sound, I quickly sat up in bed. Heart pounding, palms sweaty, I felt afraid to get out of the bed. Immediately, I noticed Elizabeth was not in the room.
In a panic, I leaped from the bed, threw on my jeans and sneakers, and headed out of the hotel room. With every movement of my body, the old floorboards creaked. At first, I tried to be quite, unsure if I should disturb the old woman. My concern for Elizabeth took hold of my heart and stamped out any ration that I may have had about the comfort of others.
I ran down the old creaky steps, flung open the front door, and followed my instincts into the dark woods. The full moon reflected its light upon the remnants of snow from last week’s spring storm, illuminating my way through the dense forest.
Plunging forward, a sense of dread enveloped me, but I continued towards the open field. A feral sound penetrated the thick forest, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the shadow. It stalked me, moving closer.
My mind screamed for my body to move. My inability to budge caused the release of a scream from the deepest part of my lungs. I doubted for a moment if I would live to see another day. The shadow came closer and moved faster. A small whisper filled my ears until only its buzzing, endless chatter filled my head. The shadow withered in and out from within the trees, moving closer to my shivering body.
Exhausted with fear, I fell to my knees before it. My body trembled as it spoke. It was not here to hurt me, but to offer me help. The ceiling of the sky closed in before me and the earth spun uncontrollably. I put out my hands and felt nothing. It was after Elizabeth. The pact was broken and although her mother finally came for fulfillment, it was too late. More blood was required. Her mother would not be taken.
Sometime in the night, I must have made my way back to the room. I gasped and jumped from the bed, looked at the clock, and pushed Elizabeth awake. My mouth dry, I was unable to voice a sound. When she refused to wake, I pushed her from the bed onto the floor.
“What are you doing?” she snarled at me.
“Get up now, it 7:40. We need to leave!” I could not remain calm, so I screamed at her as I never have before.
The room appeared disheveled. Its charm stripped. Mildew and mold spread along the sills of the windows. The burned and torn carpet scraped at the bottom of my feet.
“No, don’t pack. Leave it all. Just put your pants and shoes on. We only have five minutes!”
“What is going on, Chris, you’re acting like a madman.”
“Just do as I say,” I screamed. I could feel the veins popping from inside my neck. Another minute had passed. I had to get her out of this town or she would be taken for her mother’s sins.
Leaving our things behind, I grabbed her arm and we ran down the stairs. Her face has all but turned white. I knew she had no idea of what was occurring and I wasn’t sure that I did either. I only knew the importance of getting her away from here. Getting her out before 7:45. Making a left in the hallway past the stairs, I ran to the outside of the hotel. There was not a person in sight. My eyes moved over the town and I caught a glimpse of the gas station. The Jeep stood before it. Another minute had passed.
I wanted to open my eyes wider, hoping that they were closed and this was nothing more than a nightmare. The town folk began to fill the streets holding in their hands the gifts they would offer. The old woman from the hotel held fruit and a young, slain lamb. Others held ornamental gifts. Slowly, they moved to the center of town, which would pass where the Jeep was parked.
Unable to take the chance of passing them, I grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and we ran towards the woods. I pulled on her but she fought with me.
“There is my mother!” she screamed. I felt more grief for her that morning than she would be able to understand. Using all of my strength, I dragged her away. This was a promise long made, not by her mother, but by the others of this prosperous little town.
We need not interfere here. I was told last night that it would not stop to assure the promise is kept. The town people spotted us. They turned our way.
Elizabeth’s scream warned them and beckoned them to come and take her as well. I instinctively held her tighter as the crowd moved closer to us. Her mother remained in the center of town, weeping.
I used my physical strength against Elizabeth to drag her from the imminent danger. To my own horror, I smacked her twice and drew blood from her lip. Slowly, it trickled down my arm. In horror, I wiped it away. Her fingernails reached up and took the flesh from my right cheek, “That’s my mother! Chris! That’s my mother!” she screamed into the silent woods.
My heart wept as I grew more forceful to restrain her but my concern was to save her life. By the time, I had her in my arms. She was quite. I entered the police department with her cradled in my arms; her mind was all but gone. I kissed her forehead and squeezed her hand. The EMT spoke on the radio notifying the hospital of their arrival, “We have a woman, approximately 50 years of age in shock.
“No, no,” I interrupted, “She’s only 25. She has been through hell but she is not 50. Jeez.”
I should have seen the way they looked at me then but it had not dawned on me. I am not as bright as I thought. Not at all. The police chief, whom I had grown up with, had gotten his keys and walked out as the ambulance drove away. He squeezed my shoulder as a gesture of compassion.
Being employed with special victims’ crime unit in Manhattan for the last few years and having grown up with the police chief, he trusted me enough and allowed me to accompany him to the scene.
I needed to know what happened here. Silently, I hopped into the front seat of the Chief’s car. I felt numb and detached. I needed to find Elizabeth’s mother. He spoke first.
“Since they have blasted that road open, there has been nothing but trouble up here again,” he announced.
“How long has it been closed?” I asked.
“About 40 years. Weird shit went on there right before they blasted it closed. Local people were afraid of it so they used dynamite and blasted the entire area. Closed it down until the damn housing boom that has been going on here. I swear they are going to build on every piece of land available here. You don’t remember this tale from our childhood?”
“No. I really don’t. Never been a big fan of the murder and mayhem genre.”
“It wasn’t exactly murder but some occult shit. Legend tells that they used human sacrifice to obtain their prosperity. Every year someone was marked for death to pay for the happiness of others. Like in that story by Shirley Jackson,” he turned to “remember reading that in school?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You don’t remember coming up here when we were kids, hanging by the rocks and telling scary stories?”
“No,” I searched my mind for the recollection but could not find it.
“Damn, you were more burnt than I thought,” he laughed.
“Shit, I guess I was,” I kept searching my mind but I could swear I never saw this place before in my life. Maybe back then I was burnt.
I quivered as the road narrowed. We made our way down the path that led to the town. It stood before me, getting closer every second. The old abandoned buildings rose ominously from the depths of the woods. The hotel that I had slept in was torn down. The only thing that remained of its warm grandeur was the porch and the welcome sign.
I had to restraint myself from screaming out. I wondered how this could be. There are not many things that can terrify a man like me, but I may have finally stumbled across one.
“Anyway,” he continued, “the legend goes to say that there was a strong-willed 13 year-old girl that refused to sacrifice herself. She hid in the woods surrounding the village. When the keeper of the promise, as local folks call him, arrived, he was angry and massacred the entire town for her deed. Some say she went mad and you can hear her screams. Actually, tonight is the night of the anniversary that…. What the hell is that in the street?”
Suddenly all my childhood memories and fears rushed in. I knew now that the rumors of Elizabeth’s mother were true. She was the child that caused this uprising. Without her making restitution, the souls of the deceased would find no peace. A chill ran up my spine; I shivered.
The chief stopped short in his sentence and sped up, causing the car to hit a few solid bumps. He made his way to the body of a woman lying in center of town. A 9mm lay beside her, her fingernails filled with flesh. She obviously fought her murderer. I put my hand to the side of my face that held the scratches that Elizabeth inflicted. I placed my hand on my holster, looking for my off-duty weapon. It was gone. The Chief drew his gun on me. As he put the cuffs around my wrists, I was unable to speak.
I saw the light of afternoon shine upon my badge that lay next to Elizabeth’s badly beaten body. Bewildered and confused, I hung my head and wept. I knew the promise lay fulfilled. Although not the life intended, it still evened the score.
At night when I lay in my bed, the sounds of the woods come through. Sounds that I thought lay in my past. Sounds that I thought were only dreams. Memories too painful to recall haunt my days. They summon me. They come through the concrete walls and overpower the screaming of the other inmates. They beckon me. I hide my head under the pillow but they find me still.
