Hauntings (15 page)

              “That will be Seventy four dollars even.” Oswald handed Larry four twenties and held his hand out for the change. Which the cashier promptly counted out into his open palm.

              “I'll go get that ice for you.” Larry said then walked to the freezer in the back of the store. After several minutes he came back with a fairly large rough cut block of dry ice,  doubled bagged in heavy duty plastic.

              “I don't quite remember how much the Dyer's used to buy when they were here. It's been awhile, but I figure a couple pounds will do ya for a time. Be careful how you handle it its damn cold.”

              “Just put it in the cart, I'll take it from there okay?”

              “Whatever you say.”

              “By the way, do you know if Sam & Ella's will be open today?”

              “I guess maybe, they were open for breakfast, but I saw them leave after the lunch hour. Maybe they'll be open for supper. I don't know. It's not like them to close in the middle of the day like that though.”

              “Thanks.” Oswald replied then pushed the shopping cart out the door and then over the curb and across the street. He unloaded everything into the back of the station wagon and returned the cart across the street. He glanced back at the restaurant, still no sign of anyone inside. He walked over to Smiley's  and walked into the garage.

              “Anyone here?” he called.

              “I'll be right there.” Someone yelled from the back of the building.

              “You must be that guy staying at the Dyer place.” A thin man dressed in dirty coveralls asked.

              “Yep, that would be me.” Oswald replied glancing about the garage, looking for a gas can.

              “I'm George Bentley, but folks around here just call me Smiley. What can I do for you?”

              “I need to borrow a gas can, a big one if you've got one that can hold about five gallons.”

              “I think I can help you out there. Did you run out of gas? I can give you a ride back to your car or tow you back into town if it's something more serious.”

              “Thanks, for the offer, but I just need to get some gas for the  generator at the cabin.”  Smiley grabbed a jerry can from the shadows in the far corner of the garage and carried it casually to Oswald.”

              “This ought to do you. I think it may be about five gallons, maybe six. You can fill it up at the first pump outside. The second pump has been acting a little moody lately,” He said as he handed the can to Oswald.

              “At Sam & Ella's they tell me you know the Dyers.”

              “That's true. I work with doctor Aleister Dyer at Leicester University.”

              “You one of them professor fellas like in the movies.”

              “I don't know about that, but I am a professor.”

              “My favorite movie was about a professor. You see he invented this potion that made him change              into a whole different person.”

              “Do you mean Doctor. Jekyll and Mister. Hide?”

              “Nope, never seen that one. Is it any good?”

              “ It's a classic.”

              “Nah, the one I mean is called , um let me think a minute... The nutty professor, That's it. It has Jerry Lewis in it. You just can't beat a movie with Jerry Lewis, That's what I always say, anyway. Have you seen it?”

              “Now that you mention it, I have,” Oswald stepped outside to the pump with Smiley following him. He unscrewed the cap to the can and filled the can with five gallons of regular.

              “Does doctor Dyer seem like a nice guy to you?”

              “Nice enough to let me use his cabin.”

              “There are stories told around here about the Dyers. Not the kind you'd want your kids to hear if you know what I mean,” Smiley said straight faced. “That will be fifteen bucks for the gas. You can bring the can back later.”

              Oswald Handed Smiley a twenty.

              “I'll keep the change as a deposit on the can, I'll give it back when you bring the can back, alright?”

              “Not a problem. See you around,” Oswald carried the jerry can to his car and loaded it into the back. The were lights on in the restaurant and the closed sign was gone. He walked inside, the was an elderly couple sitting at a booth enjoying their supper. At a glance it, looked like the man was having liver and onions and the lady was having some kind of fish. Oswald took a seat at the counter.

              “So you made it through the night, want some coffee?” Freida asked coming out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her white apron.

              “Clara said you were roughing it last night, that you had to after setting off your bug bombs in the cabin.”

              “No keeping secrets around here, is there?” Oswald replied with a wink.

              “Oh we keep our secrets all right, but we sure do love to gossip about strangers. Would you like another piece of that cheesy pie you like? I can heat a piece up in no time.” Oswald smiled an nodded as Freida poured him a cup of coffee. He shook a little sugar into the cup and stirred it in, let it dissolve, then took a sip and savored the rich flavor.

              “Freida, I'll wait on that pie for now. What have you got on the menu for supper?” Oswald asked.

              “We have ham off the bone, you can have that with eggs if you want or you can have it with green beans and mashed potatoes, we've got liver and onions, you already know about our burgers. We have it all, and if we don't have it, it's not worth having.”

              “I'll have the liver and onions, with extra onions, and then I'll have that piece of cheesy pie for desert. Has Clara been in today?”

              “There's no telling when Clara's going to be about, or for how long for that matter.”

              “When you see her next, tell her thanks for me. I would have never found the cabin yesterday without her help.”

              “I could have told you how to get there, no hard trick in that. You take Galena North to Bloody Gulch Road then turn right and you follow that all the way to the Castle Rock Woods and you turn in on old Dyer road and follow that as far as you can and then you're there.”

              “Bloody Gulch Road? How did it get a name like that?”

              “That's an old name. It goes back to the time when they drove the Dyers out.” said the old man at the table.

              “what do you mean drove the Dyer's out of town. I thought they were one of the founding families?” Oswald asked.

              “They were, of course they were. They were a powerful family in the beginning, but they had strange ways, evil ways about them.”

              “What strange ways? What are you talking about?”

              “I'm old, but I'm not that old to remember myself, but I know what my grandparents said. And it wasn't a pretty story I tell you.”

              “Well what was it? Were they burned as witches or what?” Oswald asked.

              “Don't let him bother you,” Clara said entering the restaurant and sitting next to Oswald at the counter. “It's all nothing but old wives tales if you ask me.”

              “No one's asking you Missy.” The old man said pointing his fork at her.

              “Them Dyers were an evil bunch, doing hellish things out there. What was done had to be done. That's all there is to it.”

              “That was ages ago. I bet Oswald's friend doesn't even know what happened back then.”

              “Maybe not, But he must have heard the same stories as you and me. He tried living out here for awhile didn't he? He must have been told stories by his parents and grand parents, he must have some idea.” Looking straight at Oswald the old man asked. Did your friend tell you anything about the place's history?”

              “No, and to be honest, I didn't even think to ask, If he knew he probably was too embarrassed to say anything about it. What could he say? By the way Oswald, my family was driven out of town by a bunch of rubes with torches and pitchforks? I think I'd keep that to myself too if I were him.” Freida served Oswald his liver and onions.

              “Can I freshen up your coffee?” She asked her voice tense.

              “Yes, please.“ Oswald replied glad to have something to think about other than the the old man's ranting, yet he would like to know what exactly happened to the Dyers and why. Oswald looked the old man at the table in the eye and said.

              “What you're saying interests me. May I join you and your wife?” The man's mouth all but dropped to the floor, his wife's eyes opened wide like saucers.

              “Why uh, um.”

              “Thank you.” Oswald said picking up his plate and cup then moving over to the table to join his unwilling host. He sat between the man and his wife.

              “Why, all the nerve!” the old woman harrumphed.

              “So please tell me. What did the dyers do that was so bad that your ancestors felt they needed to drive them out of town?  Were they into polygamy like the Mormons? Were they witches and run around naked in the woods? What was so bad? If I'm going to be living there for awhile, I think I have a right to know.” Oswald stated, is voice firm, staring directly into the old man's eyes.

              “I suppose you do at that.” the old man replied and began a tale of strange gods, death, murder, human sacrifice,  and cannibalism.”  Oswald listened intently, he suspected some of the activities described as ancient Sumerian rituals of the highest order. Of course his experience was limited to reading the journals of noted archaeologists and anthropologists, and one field excursion long ago when doing his graduate studies.

              “Finally John Dixon himself worked up the courage to end the carnage. He motivated a group of men to arm themselves. Most of the men had children missing, lost in the woods so to speak. John Dixon led them into the woods like a hunting party complete with hound dogs to follow the scent if the need arose. They went to the cabin first, but it was empty. John broke in and found a piece of clothing to give the dogs the scent. The dogs went wild barking and chasing after the scent right to Sacrifice Rock.

              All the Dyers and some others were there, some dressed in gray robes some naked, some holding torches to light the activities. One standing at the rock held a bloody curved knife in his hand.  A bloody corpse lay on the rock. They arrived too late to save that poor child. The sight of the dead child enraged the They attacked, killing many, many of the other's scattered and tried to run away. The dogs and the men followed catching them at Bloody Gulch Road. There, they killed them all. All, but the few that hid in the woods and slipped away during the carnage. Years, many years later The Dyer's you know came back and laid legal claim to the cabin and the land. The Township fought their claim in court, but as you know, after all the appeals and counter suits ,and such, in the end the Dyers won.”

              “That's when they moved back?”

              “Not right away, but yes after a few month's they moved back. They started out all friendly like, trying to fit in with us, acting as if they weren't what we already knew they really were. But we weren't having none of it. They moved out after a year or two, then they would only come out during the summers spend a week or so out there by themselves and then go back wherever it was they came from. They've left the property alone for the past couple of years. That is until you showed up.”

              “I'm not a Dyer, I'm not related to the Dyers. I'm a professor of medieval Metaphysics at Leicester University in Leicester Massachusetts, Aleister Dyer is the Dean of the department. He is my boss, that is all.” Oswald interjected.

              “So he's your boss, not your brother, makes little difference to me. We're not going to put up with that kind of goings on, not here. Not ever again!” The old man sprayed spittle across the table with that last statement. Oswald looked at his plate and decided he wasn't that hungry after all.

              “ I 'm here to take a break  from teaching, to take some time to study, maybe to write, but I'm not here to cause you or anyone else in this town any problems. I can promise you that.” Oswald got up from the table stepped to the counter and asked Freida what he owed.

              “Do you still want your cheesy pie?” she asked.

              “Maybe another time.” he replied then paid his bill and handed her a generous tip.
No point in making any more enemies than I have already
he thought as he walked out the front door and to car. Clara got up and followed him.

              “Can you get back on your own today?” She asked.

              “Yep, Galena to Bloody Gulch, to Castle Rock and I'm there. Easy Peasy.”

              “You're a quick learner. Oswald, I just wanted you to know not everyone in Dixon is as bigoted  as the two in there. I wanted you to know you have a friend.”

              “I appreciate that Clara” Oswald smiled. “Are we still on for the cook out?”