Tom's ghost story

This story was written for

Holding Pond - Campfire of The Lost  (13+) A campfire for Holding Pond members to try out their spooky side... #1398128 by Arakun the twisted raccoon

  In this campfire, a group of stranded travelers take turns telling ghost stories.

When the old gentleman finished speaking, a middle aged man in a denim jacket, blue jeans, and cowboy boots rose to his feet.  “My name is Tom Anderson and this here’s my brother, Bill,” he said, gesturing toward a mirror image of himself who had his right arm in a sling.  ‘Bill and me come from up north where—“

‘Now, just a minute, Tom,” Bill interrupted, rising to face his brother. “I guess you’re gonna tell that blamed story whether I want you to or not, but I’ll be doggoned if I’m gonna sit here and listen to it.  Bein’ there was bad enough.  I’m goin’ outside to have a smoke.”

Bill put on his hat, limped to the door, and opened it clumsily with his left hand. He stomped out, slamming the door behind him.

“Don’t pay my brother no mind,” Tom chuckled.  “This ain’t his favorite story.  As I was sayin’, Bill and I come from way up north.  We’ve lived on the same cattle ranch in the North Dakota badlands all our lives.  In spite o’ the name badlands, its real pretty place in the summer, but the winters are somethin’ else.  Colder’n Toby’s hind end with enough snow to bury a full grown cow up to her neck.  Snowstorms can come up outa nowhere.  One minute it’s nice and the next there’s so much snow blowin’ around that you can’t see your hand in front of your face.

Bill and I got caught in one o’ them storms about a month ago.  We were on our way home from pickin’ up supplies in town when it started.  It was snowin' so hard that I couldn’t even make out the road in front o’ me.  I was pokin’ along tryin’ to keep our old pickup truck on the road when we hit a snowdrift and slid sideways right through the ice of a frozen slough.

That slough wasn’t deep enough so we would o’ sank, but the front end o’ our truck was buried in three feet o’ dirty water and mud.  Cold water started leakin’ in around the doors and we knew we had to get outa there before we got wet.  We somehow managed to crawl out the windows, with Bill cussin’ and callin’ me names all the while.  My brother always did have a mouth on him when he got scared or mad. 

‘All right, you can drive from now on,’ I told him as we crawled back up to the road.

‘I will,’ he snapped. ‘C’mon, we might as well start walkin’.  Prob’ly freeze to death before we get home.’ 

I started after him, knowin’ he was right.  A person can’t last long in a storm like that.  I'd managed to grab a flashlight from the truck before we got out, but it didn't help us see much. The wind almost knocked me on my rear end and I’ve never been so cold in my life.  Just when I thought I couldn't walk another step, Bill said ‘Look!  There’s a building over there.’

I looked where he was pointin’ and could barely make out a big grey shape off to the left.  We started towards it, stumblin’ through snowbanks up to our knees.  When we got closer, we could see it was a house, but it didn’t look like anyone had lived there in years.  It was hard to tell what color it used to be 'cause the paint was all peeled off.  The windows were cracked and the shutters that were still there banged around in the wind. 

‘If that ain’t our luck,’ I said.  ‘It’s abandoned.’

‘Don’t matter,’ Bill said.  ‘I’d rather be in there than out here. Least we’d be outa the wind.’

I followed Bill up the steps o' the big front porch. 'Hope its not locked,' he said as he pulled on the doorknob.  The knob came off in his hand and the door swung open.

We stepped inside and I shone my flashlight around the room.  It had been a fine place in its time, but its time had passed about fifty years ago.  The wallpaper had turned all yellow and big sheets of it were hangin' off the wall.  The carpet was dirty and all chewed up by mice.  The only piece o' furniture was a rickety rocker next to an ol' wood stove in the far corner.

'We can start a fire in that stove,' Bill said. "Maybe we can break up that ol' chair an' burn it.'

We started towards the chair but then froze in our tracks.  An old woman was sittin' in the chair. I was sure she hadn't been there when we came in. She was a little skinny lady wearin' a long blue dress. Her gray hair was tied up in a bun on the back of her head and she wore little round glasses. Kinda reminded me of my Grandma.

'Sorry we busted into your house without knockin' ma'am,' I said. "We didn't think nobody lived here.  There's an awful storm outside and our truck went off the road.  Mind if we come in 'til the storm's over?'

She shook her head and put out both hands like you do when you want somebody to stop.

'I'm real sorry I said I'd burn your rockin' chair ma'am,' Bill said.  'If we can stay 'til the storm eases up, we promise we won't be any trouble.'

The old woman didn't say a word, just kept shakin' her head.  Then she stood up an' I couldn't believe what my own eyes were seein'.  I could see right through her, right through to the wall behind her.

'Bill,' I whispered, 'She's a--she's a ghost!  Let's get outa here.'

Before we could move, the lady sorta flew towards us.  Her sweet Grandma face became a skull with empty holes for eyes an' her hands were like bony claws reachin' out for us.  Bill 'n me both tumbled backwards off the porch an' started runnin' fast as we could in the deep snow.  I was prepared to run 'til doomsday, but Bill suddenly yelled, 'Stop!'

"Tom, I don't know about you,' he said, gaspin' for breath.  'But I ain't gonna stay out here an' freeze to death 'cause o' some damn spook.  What's she gonna do to us anyway?  Prob'ly go right through us if she tries to grab us.  Let's go back."

I didn't want to find out what she could do to us, but I couldn't let my brother go back in there alone.  I followed him back up the stairs and through the door.  The ghost was standin' there lookin' like a little ol' Grandma once again, shakin' her head at us. 

Since there's ladies present, I won't repeat what Bill said next.  All I'll say is that he called that ghost every word in the book and a few that ain't.  I stood there prayin' to God an' waitin' for her to come after us, but it didn't happen.  When Bill stopped to take a breath, the ghost gave him a big smile, floated to the side and motioned him to come in.

'What did I tell you? Just had to let her know who's boss,' Bill said to me and started across the room towards the stove.  I started to follow him but the ghost floated down in front o' me, shakin' her head. Just then, there was a loud CRACK, then more loud CRACKS, and the livin' room floor gave way and fell into the cellar, takin' Bill with it. 

It was the next mornin' before the weather cleared up an' I could walk to the highway to flag down some help. I spent the whole night listenin' to Bill moan about his arm and watchin' that ghost lady point at him an' laugh without makin' a sound.

That's the story of how my brother Bill broke his arm an' also the reason why he don't swear no more, least in public. My brother can ride the wildest horse an' rope the meanest steer, but that little ol' lady scared the cussedness right outa him."