MOJAVE MULESKINNERS

     Ghosts are alive! When I was quite young, I often sat back behind the stove near the wood box, being as unobtrusive as possible so the adults wouldn't send me to bed. This allowed me to listen to the conversation and especially to the stories they told. Occasionally they would tell ghost stories which aroused my interest more that anything.

     Once we even lived in a haunted house. Or one that emitted some unexplained sounds. Ma, Pa, and Me, all heard what sounded like chains being dragged around and around the house one windy night. Pa looked out every window but saw nothing. The chains kept on jingling for a long time, though.

     The memory of those ghost stories told to me when I was a child, lingered for a time but when I had grown to be a young man of fourteen, I had outgrown such things. Even when we moved in to this house a quarter mile south of the cemetery it didn't bother me. Everyone knew there was no such a thing as ghosts.

     Being fourteen I was allowed to do most everything. I rode my bicycle everywhere and even equipped it for night travel by putting lights on it fore and aft. Saturday evenings in town were sometimes made extra special when I was allowed to attend the preview. The preview was actually a late movie presented after the regular Saturday evening movie ended. It lasted until almost midnight or a little after.

     One such night I stayed for the preview for a particularly frightening movie. It was long and caused a lot of screaming by the girls present. Afterward, I mounted my trusty bicycle and headed west out of town. The south wind howled through the trees, fields, fences, and power lines to fill the night with a dull roar. I pressed hard on the pedals and was glad I didn't have to ride directly into it.

     I dreaded passing that cemetery but put the thought out of my mind as it drew nearer. In fact, I concentrated on putting everything out of my mind because coupled with that scary movie and this spooky dark night I was becoming apprehensive.

     At last I reached the intersection where the cemetery was and where I turned south. Now I faced the wind and a long pull upgrade on a dirt road before I was home. I lowered my head and pumped with all my might into the wind to gain speed for that hill. Suddenly my headlight went out. Now I squinted into the wind and near total darkness. Dismounting, I began pushing the bike up the hill, trying to ignore all those dead people behind me. I had to admit to myself that I was just a little unnerved.

     I was almost to the top of the hill and could smell the smoke from our fireplace, when through the darkness I saw something white standing directly before me. I froze. I heard a hissing sound. It was about the size of a human head and moved just a little from side to side. I had never before been so terrified. Every fiber of my body was out of control and my mind touched the darkness of my soul to summon all the demons I had ever imagined.

      Eternity passed! Maybe longer? I stood facing this wraith from hell, mind racing through my inventory of behavior. Finally my senses advised me that I couldn't stand here much longer with spastic muscles and retain my dignity, so gathering all my remaining coherence I pushed the bike forward and yelled (screamed?) "Boo!"

     Rocks and dust flew into my eyes and I assumed as much of a combative position as I could before my antagonist contacted the four-strand barbed wire fence, causing it to squeak under the strain.

Then above all the sounds made by the wind, cam one that I easily recognized, and it left me standing devitalized in the starlit night, stripped of all my manly façade. It was the bawl of a lost white-faced calf.

With good fortune I hope to ever escape fear such as this

 

 

~ Weakeyes Cody 2000