Shadowed Voices

"If I might also add in the young mans defense," sighed Otis Harwood
leaning on his corn broom, "I'm convinced Steve did his best to embalm
him correctly and he was in full compliance with the law regarding a
proper burial. I understand your point saying that Steve was just an
undertaker's apprentice and inexperienced when Todd Miller suffered his
sudden heart attack. But you and I both saw Todd was board stiff and
deader than a doornail when they brought his body in. There was no
mistaking that cold distant expression on his grey face and the way
those sightless eyes of his were rolled back in his head. Rather
macabre when I think of them with only the whites showing as they did."
Otis shrugged his shoulders and placed the broom in the corner.

The bell chimes of the wall clock stuck four times indicating it was
closing time. Jacob Tuttle fumbled in his vest pocket and removed his
pocket watch to verify its accuracy. "It's that time of the season when
the days are gonna get shorter now, Otis." He licked his lips nervously
and rose from one of the wooden chairs with a slight grunt. His puffy
eyes still portrayed a wounded expression of doubt. "I better be
getting on home to my wife. She'll be wondering where I've been."

"Now that's a downright lie!" Otis scoffed shaking his head. "Emma
knows you're in here with me most every afternoon to shoot the breeze.
My opinion is I believe you're afraid of passing by Todd Miller's place
once the late afternoon sunshine begins to fade. A grown man like you
ought to be ashamed believing that deteriorated old run down house
still has Miller's ghost residing there. I wish you'd come to accept
the fact the man is dead and gone to meet his maker. We both were there
at the funeral services when they buried his casket in Staggard's
Cemetery."

Jacob swallowed hard and tried to hide the shivering guilt that washed
over his face. His chin rested heavily onto his chest. His lower lip
trembled slightly. "I just wish someone in authority would condemn and
tear the house down once and for all." His voice dropped away and he
raised his eyes once again.

"Jacob," said Otis with a sympathetic smile. "I'm nearly fifty years
old and have resided here in this town just as long as you have. We
both knew Todd Miller kept to himself after that pretty little wife of
his left him for some sweet talking city fella that was passing through
town. I've never seen a man again so filled with grief like he was even
though she wronged him. I can recall he would stare at himself
critically in this wall mirror to make sure he was as cute as a new
born puppy for her. How he loved to admire his handsome reflection
staring back at himself. But after she ran away, he never had call to
go anywhere and never showed an interest to attend to any church or
social functions. He never even came in here again to get a haircut or
just sit and talk over matters around the potbelly stove. I think the
man believed his wife would realize the mistake she made and come back
and ask his forgiveness someday. He even left the porch light on for
her day and night to welcome her back home. With his passing, he
finally rid himself of the painful love he had harbored inside for all
them years."

"Wait a minute. Please listen to me, Otis," Jacob broke in with an
audible plea. He held his breath a moment. His voice was a frightening
reflection of his own terror. "I've told you before. I've heard them
all too clearly from my place," Jacob continued. "Echoes of someone's
voice calling from within that house on a still night." He turned and
stepped towards the front door. A tingle of perspiration dripped from
his forehead and stained the bare wood floor. He straightened, as the
force of his voice became more deliberate. "At night a shadowed light
flickers like a flaming ember in one of the windows. I watched it
travel throughout both floors of the house! And then I heard the eerie
sound of a voice. It sounds so far away. It's as if someone is calling
out for help."

"That's ridiculous," insisted Otis. "You're letting your imagination
run wild, Jacob. Here let me prove it to you," he added snorting his
disgust. The grimace of his facial expression gave testimony as to his
dismay. He walked purposely to the front door and lowered the rolled
canvas shade over the window. He mumbled incoherently as he flipped
over the 'Closed' sign in the picture window and turned to Jacob. "The
way I see it, the only logical way to resolve this is to personally
take you up there and prove to you once and for all you're imagining
things! Now get in my car and let's take a ride."

"Now?" Jacob's heart thundered in his chest. "But Emma will have supper
on the table," he objected.

"No time like the present. And we will be back before your supper has
time to get cold."

Todd Miller's house was just west of the town's picnic ground and the
site for the annual County Fair. There was a faded wooden sign nailed
to an oak tree that pointed in the direction where the family once
resided. Otis followed the pot hole plagued road and pulled the late
model Ford in front of the gabled house. A metal sign that at one time
read 'No Trespassing' had fallen victim to pranksters who altered it to
now read 'JR has No ass'.

"Come on, Jacob. We won't have the luxury of the sun for more than an
hour."

A splintered weather beaten cart in the front yard was tipped on its
side exposing a missing wheel and a rusted water pump that hadn't seen
fresh water in quite some time led them to the front porch. They
climbed the six badly cracked decaying stairs to the front door. A
variety of colored paint chips dotted the stairs like wedding day
confetti. Rusty and bent nails protruded from the spindles of the
weakened hand railings and each of which creaked their protest with the
weight of their uninvited presence. Termites and carpenter ants had
left telltale miniature hills of sawdust as signature to their
continuing feast.

"A handyman's dream," laughed Otis. "Just needs a little tender loving
care and it'll be as good as new. For a ghost to haunt that is."

"It's in deplorable condition and falling apart. Miller just let
everything go to hell," said Jacob nudging a loose porch board with his
boot.

"These outside windows look like they have been nailed shut. I can't
even see inside because they have some sort of fabric over them," said
Otis cupping his eyes to the window to block the sun glare. "How the
heck could you see anything inside with these dilapidated raggedy old
curtains? Let's go around the back of the house and see if we can get
in."

Jacob bit his lip hard enough to bleed and groaned. He followed Otis
tunnel his way through the waist high tangled weeds around the
perimeter. He listened attentively to the immediate surroundings in
case anyone witnessed their trespass.

As they turned the corner of the house, Otis pointed to a window that
was partially ajar and smiled. "Looks like we have found a way to get
in after all. We just need something to stand on."

Panic excitement gripped Jacob and he clenched his teeth. He reached
for his friend's arm. His face flushed a crimson red. "This is all
wrong Otis. I think we should just get back in the car and go home.
There's an odd smell around and I think it's coming from inside. Can't
you smell it?"

Otis roughly pulled himself free of Jacob's grasp. "So what? Maybe a
few birds or critters got into the house and died. Rotting and
decomposing animal carcasses don't exactly smell like a bouquet of
roses, Jacob." There was a sudden iciness that shrouded his words. His
hunger to prove that Jacob's fear was unfounded was fast becoming an
unpleasant chore. "Now I think I saw a wooden crate over yonder by that
water pump we passed on our way in."

They both struggled to pull themselves up to the windowsill and into
the house. They retched at the ghastly stench of mildew and rotting
flesh. Covering their mouths as best they could with their
shirtsleeves, they made their way into the dimly illuminated living
room. A sagging staircase with broken jagged spindles led to the
darkened upstairs bedrooms.

An upright oval mirror stood in the corner. It swung freely on hinges
to both sides. Otis wrote 'Dust Me' in huge letters across the surface
and roughly brushed the message away with his fingertips.

"There are you satisfied, Jacob? There is no one here calling out for
anyone or carrying a candle going from room to room. There is nothing
here to be afraid of except for this one dust smeared mirror." Otis
released a heavy sigh of relief and folded his arms across his
chest.

Their distracted eyes shifted sharply and trained upon the darkness at
the top of the staircase. A sudden choke escaped from Jacob's throat as
his eyes became glued to the stairwell. A soft whimpering sound, like
that of a weeping child if it were being punished was distinctly
audible. The cry grew steadily louder until the softness they heard
grew to become an uncontrollable sob. Their feet felt as if they had
become anchored to the hardwood floor. Their eyes became riveted to a
shadowy figure standing on the top stair. The wavering of a smoky
horrific image appeared and noiselessly descended toward them riding on
a current of stale putrid air. The figure of a frail old woman passed
by Jacob. She was partially dressed in tattered clothing similar to the
curtained fabric covering the windows. Her veins bulged like intricate
roadways visible through her pallid translucent skin. Her sallow
colored eyes were drawn back deep into their sockets.

Otis shivered in a cold draft as she past by him. Their rapid breaths
became visible in the air. The woman glanced at the mirror. She
extended one of her arms and pointed a crooked finger. She seemed to
tilt her head to one side and admire her grotesque reflection in the
mirror. Otis trembled in repugnant fear as he watched her fluid
movements. She watched herself sway in front of the mirror. She
motioned with a wave of her hand as if calling or searching for
someone's reflection from within. The partially decomposed face of Todd
Miller vaguely appeared in the mirror. He seemed to smile at her as she
gently caressed the surface with her hand. His arms reached for her
extending to the edge the mirror. She couldn't reach his touch which
only heightened her grief. Goosebumps rose on their arms as they heard
his shrieking image call out for her in a desperate plea to join him in
the mirror. Her heart felt sobs now became terror stricken. Countless
numbers of blood red centipedes fell from her blackened eye sockets and
mouth before she collapsed at the base of the mirror.

Otis grabbed Jacob's shirt and wrenched him away from the nightmarish
trance unfolding before him.

"Now Jacob! Come on!" Otis screamed as he pushed him toward the open
window. They blindly stumbled, hurling themselves through the tall
weeds in their efforts to free themselves of the horror from within the
house. Their panic exhaustion sapped what remained of their courage.
The car roared to life on the second try. The rear tires spewed dirt
and gravel in all directions when he shifted the car in reverse. As
they backed down the lane from which they came, the broken porch light
flickered on and then extinguished once again. As they past the County
Fair grounds, the faint distant cries of a distraught woman could still
be heard searching for her way to return to the man who always loved
her.

? Copyright 2003 Chuckster