The Regulators (49 page)

The ghosts of the eponymous mother and son were first spotted by guests in the summer of 1982. They are always seen around that
particular gazebo, which is located at the top of a hill and looks down toward a rock wall which is pretty much buried in honeysuckle and wild roses. It isn't the most spectacular place on the resort, but I think it may prove to be my favorite when I think back on my honeymoon in later years. There's a serenity there which certainly beggars my powers of description. Some of it's the scent of the flowers, and some is the sound of the bees, I suppose—a steady, sleepy drone. But never mind the bees and flowers and picturesque rock wall; if I know my Kath, it's the ghosts she'll be wanting. They aren't spooky ones at all, so don't get your hopes up on that score, but they are well-documented, at least. Adrian Givens, the concierge, told me they have been seen by perhaps three dozen guests since the sightings began, always in that same rough locale. And although none of the witnesses have known each other, making conspiracy or collusion seem unlikely, the descriptions are remarkably similar. The woman is described as being in her thirties, pretty, long legs, chestnut-brown hair. Her son (several witnesses have remarked on the physical resemblance between the two) is small and very slim, probably about six. Brown hair, like the woman. His face has been described as “intelligent,” “lively,” and even “beautiful.” And although they've been seen by a variety of people over a course of years, they are always described as wearing the same clothes: white running shorts, sleeveless blouse, and lowtop sneakers for her; basketball shorts, a tank top, and cowboy boots for him. It's the cowboy boots that give me the most pause, Kath! How likely is it that all those people would put a kid in such an unlikely combination as shorts and cowboy boots, if they were just making it up? The defense rests.

Several people have theorized that they are real people, perhaps even a Mohonk employee and her child, because they've dropped a lot of empirical, lasting evidence for ghosts (who as a rule only leave a swirl of cold air or perhaps a little smear of ectoplasm behind, as I know you know). All sorts of little souvenirs have been found at that particular gazebo. You know the weirdest? Half-eaten plates of Chef Boyardee spaghetti! Yes! I know it sounds crazy, laughable, but stop and think a minute. Aside from hot dogs, is there anything in the world that kids love more than Chef's pasta?

There have been other things, as well—toys, a coloring book, a small silver makeup case that could well belong to a little boy's pretty mom but I admit it's those half-eaten bowls of kid-style spaghetti that get to me. Whoever heard of a spaghetti-eating ghost? Or how 'bout this? In the fall of 1984, a group of hikers found a kid's plastic record-player in that gazebo, with a 45-rpm record on the spindle—Strawberry Fields Forever, by the Beatles. fitting, eh?

My friend at the concierge's desk, Adrian, smiles and nods when you suggest it's a put-up job, that ghosts don't leave actual physical objects behind (or trample down the grass, or leave footprints in the gazebo). “Not ordinary ones, anyway,” he says, “but maybe these aren't ordinary ghosts. For one thing, everyone who has seen them says they're solid. You can't look through them, like the ones in Ghostbusters. maybe they're not ghosts, have you thought of that? They might be real people who are living on a slightly different plane than ours.” I guess you don't have to be a guest at Mohonk to get a little astral; just working there seems to do the trick.

Adrian said that on at least three occasions a determined effort had been made to catch the mother and son by people who believed the whole thing was a hoax, and all three efforts had come to nothing (although once the searchers came back with another of those spaghetti-bowls). Also, he said—and I found this much more interesting—the apparitions had been showing up in and around that gazebo for four years. If they were real people, hoaxes or pranksters or both, how could the boy still be six or seven?

Okay, this is the point where, in a traditional ghost story, I would reveal that I myself had seen the ghosts or the Phantom Rickshaw. Except I didn't. I've still never seen a ghost in my whole life. But I can testify that there's something very special about that meadow, something hushed and—don't you dare laugh—almost holy. I didn't see ghosts, but there is definitely a feeling of presence there. I went without Tom, and will freely grant that probably made me more susceptible, but even so, I knew then and know now that I had come to a very extraordinary place. And there was a prickling along the back of my neck, a sensation—very clear and specific—of being watched.

Then, when I went into the gazebo itself to sit and rest up a little for the walk back, I found the items I'm enclosing. They are perfectly real, as you see, not a bit ghostly, and yet there is something very strange about them, don't you think?

The little woman-figure in the blue shorts is the more interesting of the two. It's obviously what the kids call an “action figure,” but I've been teaching kindergarten for three years now and thought I knew them all. I don't know this one, though. At first I thought it was Scarlet, from the G.I. Joe team, but this little lady's hair is a very different shade of red. Brighter. And usually kids treasure these things, will fight over them in the play-yard. This one was tossed into a corner, almost as if it had been thrown away. Save it for me, Kath, and I'll show it to my kindergartners next fall . . . but I'm betting right now that none of them will know her and all of them will want her! I think about what Adrian said, about how the ghosts in Mother and Son Meadow might live on a slightly different plane, maybe of the astral kind, maybe of the temporal kind, and sometimes (often, really) I think Miss Red might actually come from that plane! (Does the idea give you the shivers? It does me!)

Okay, okay, so a strong wind has come up outside and the lights are flickering. Put it down to that, if you want.

Then there's the picture. I found it under the little gazebo table. You're the art major, kiddo, tell me what you think. Is it some kind of gag—a hoax perpetrated by a local kid who enjoys teasing the guests? Or have I found a drawing made by a ghost? What a concept, huh?

Okay, girl, that's my creepy story for the night. I'm gonna stick the whole works in a little padded mailer from the gift-shop, then see if I can persuade Tom it's time to stop shooting bumper pool in the game room and come to bed. Frankly, I'm not expecting it to be a problem.

I love being married, and I love this place, ghosts and all.

Still your fan,

Pat

PS: Please save the picture for me, okay? I want to keep it. Hoax or not, I think there's love in it. And a sense, almost, of coming home. P.

Lake Mohonk, New Paltz, New York 12561

Stephen King
is the author of more than fifty books, all of them worldwide bestsellers. His recent work includes
Mr. Mercedes,
winner of the 2015 Edgar Award for Best Novel;
Doctor Sleep;
and
Under the Dome
, a major TV miniseries on CBS. His novel
11/22/63
was named a top ten book of 2011 by
The New York Times Book Review
and won the Los Angeles Times Book Prize for best Mystery/Thriller. He is the recipient of the 2003 National Book Foundation Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters and a 2014 National Medal of Arts. He lives in Bangor, Maine, with his wife, novelist Tabitha King.

MEET THE AUTHORS, WATCH VIDEOS AND MORE AT

SimonandSchuster.com

Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/Stephen-King

Also by Stephen King

FICTION

Carrie

'Salem's Lot

The Shining

Night Shift

The Stand

The Dead Zone

Firestarter

Cujo

Creepshow

Different Seasons

Cycle of the Werewolf

Christine

Pet Sematary

IT

Skeleton Crew

The Eyes of the Dragon

Misery

The Tommyknockers

The Dark Half

Four Past Midnight

Needful Things

Gerald's Game

Dolores Claiborne

Nightmares & Dreamscapes

Insomnia

Rose Madder

The Green Mile

Desperation

Bag of Bones

The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon

Hearts in Atlantis

Dreamcatcher

Everything's Eventual

From a Buick 8

The Colorado Kid

Cell

Lisey's Story

Duma Key

Just After Sunset

Stephen King Goes to the Movies

Under the Dome

Full Dark, No Stars

11/22/63

Doctor Sleep

Mr. Mercedes

Revival

Finders Keepers

The Bazaar of Bad Dreams

End of Watch
(forthcoming June 2016)

NOVELS IN THE DARK TOWER SERIES

The Dark Tower I: The Gunslinger

The Dark Tower II: The Drawing of the Three

The Dark Tower III: The Waste Lands

The Dark Tower IV: Wizard and Glass

The Dark Tower V: Wolves of the Calla

The Dark Tower VI: Song of Susannah

The Dark Tower VII: The Dark Tower

The Wind Through the Keyhole: A Dark Tower Novel

BY STEPHEN KING AS RICHARD BACHMAN

Thinner

The Running Man

The Long Walk

Roadwork

The Regulators

Blaze

WITH PETER STRAUB

The Talisman

Black House

NONFICTION

Danse Macabre

On Writing (A Memoir of the Craft)

Scribner

An Imprint of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996 by Richard Bachman

Computer illustrations by Jaye Zimet; Map by Virginia Norey

Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to reprint copyrighted material: “Leaving on a Jet Plane,” Words and Music by John Denver. Copyright © 1967 (Renewed) 1995, Cherry Lane Music Publishing Company, Inc. (ASCAP). International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved. Reprinted by Permission of Cherry Lane Music Company.

Cover design by Jim Tierney

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, address Scribner Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020.