The Hungry Haint

The Hungry Haint

“No, Ma’am, I not a prowler. I’m Eddy Wright, local reporter for the Weekly Howl, on assignment to investigate sightings of strange lights and prowlers at the abandoned Ellington hotel on Wolf Hill. And you are?”

“Abbie Tidmore. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Wright. Don’t worry. I’m not after you with my garden rake. I saw you out here at the edge of my yard and just wondered if you were lost or something, seeing as how you’re new to our town.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Tidmore. Since you live down the hill from the old place, perhaps you can tell me if you have any reason to believe it’s occupied as some people claim.”

“It’s occupied all right. There’s sure enough someone or something hanging out in that old spook house. It ought to have been razed to the ground years ago after old Maddy Ellington ran out screaming and drowned herself in Cougar Creek at the bottom of the woods. It’s nothing but a magnet for vagrants. But the thing I saw was not . . . human.”

“Wait a minute. Let me get my notepad. Can you describe what you saw?”

“That's one of those new-type tablets, Huh? Runs on a battery does it? I bet it has a camera in it too. Those things really necessary? Say, You’re not going to write up my story and take my photo and make me look like a fool are you?"

“No, Ma’am. I believe the townsfolk deserve to know what a fine upstanding citizen of Howling Hills has to say about one of their most notorious landmarks. Who knows? Your comments may draw visitors. Generate tourist income. Haunted places are popular destinations these days. This could put Howling Hills on the map. The mayor might even name you Citizen of the Year.”

“Well, I suppose I could describe it then. Providing you won’t make me sound like some foolish old woman who sees things that aren’t there. Maybe if I'd had one those tablets with a camera I could show you what I saw. You know my momma always said we have too many modern devices that aren't necessary. But maybe she was wrong."

"Mrs. Tidmore, mothers are right about most things. But technology has many advantages."

"Guess we'll see about that. I heard those electric devices cause cancer."

"I'll check into it and write up what I find. Now about the old hotel?"

"You’re pretty darn clever. The piece you wrote about the man who died while pulling on his pants? You demanded that pants ought to be banned because pants kill people. I haven’t pulled on a pair of trousers since! Not even to work in my garden. And I’ve wondered if the wardrobe people who dress Hillary Clinton are conspiring to see that pantsuits kill her too one of these days. Why are you smiling?”

“I’m glad you liked that article. I’m sure the local seamstress has been getting plenty of orders for skirts.”

“Men in skirts? That’s common enough in Scotland, and those men know who they are. They aren’t confused about their gender. So why not make it a dress code here too? Some men already are wearing dresses. If it saves lives, men will be forever grateful.”

“You’re wise to be cautious. Now, who is this young man coming up the hill?”

“This is Danny Egbert. He delivers the Weekly Howl up and down the hill. Has a right nice tossing arm too. I don’t even have to leave my front porch to pick up the paper. "Hi, Danny. This is Mr. Wright. He’s a reporter for the newspaper you deliver.”

“How do you do, Sir.”

“Hello, Danny. Mrs. Tidmore was telling about something she saw in the old Ellington Hotel. Have you ever been inside it?

“Sure. Me and the guys. We double-dared each other to go in a few days ago. That was in the daytime though. We were looking for that escaped convict that got away from lockup last week. The one they say killed some stranger identified as Vance Williams. We figured he might be hiding there. We didn’t find nothing but a lot of dusty old furniture and junk. It was empty as a skeleton’s eye sockets.”

“Hmmm. Nice imagery. So, you never saw anything suspicious, huh Danny?"

“On my first paper route along Wolf Hill, I rode past the old place that everybody says is haunted. I was sorta lost and the storm clouds had blotted out the sun. The trees there are tall and the shadows were thick. I swear I saw a whitish head floating toward me.”

“Don’t swear, Danny. Not even when you whisper.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Tidmore.”

“You saw a floating head?”

“Yes Sir, Mr. Wright. It came right up behind me. I pedaled faster than I’ve ever pedaled before. I got out of there like a flash of lightning.”

“Mr. Wright, I think Danny’s imagination might be a little over-active. When you got home, Danny, didn’t your paw untie a string attached to a white balloon that had gotten tangled in the spokes of your bicycle’s tire? And didn't that balloon float behind you all the way?”

“I know what I saw, and it warn’t no balloon. You believe me, don’t you, Mr. Wright?”

“Well, Danny, I may have seen a few heads floating around spooky places myself when I was your age. I can see you aren’t the kind of boy who lies. Now, tell me, Mrs. Tidmore, what did you see? What time of day was it, and what were you doing near the old Ellington place?”

“I had been to the blackberry patch along Cougar Creek last week. I had a pail full of ripe berries when I noticed the shadows had grown long. I took a shortcut home, climbed up the path that leads to the old hotel. I’ve done that before in broad daylight and never saw nothing. But this time--”

“Go on, please.”

“This time I looked up at the third floor and there it was. A whitish figure just floating past the windows. It was eating a baloney sandwich. I saw it plain as day. It was a haint all right. No human being can float like that. Now there you go grinning again. You don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that at all, Ma’am. I’m just pleased that you aren’t afraid to speak up. You will have the total respect of the entire town.”

“I suppose that snoopy old Myrtle Johnson will make fun of me, but you ought to ask her what she saw the night Elmer burned down Ed Smith’s outhouse. She’s always lurking around taking videos of people on her cell phone when they think no one is looking. Gonna get herself in trouble one of these days. She wears pants too, foolish woman. That’s just about as scary as . . . You’re making fun of me, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“No, Ma’am. Please can you tell me how you know the sandwich was baloney? I never knew of a ghost eating a baloney sandwich. I know politicians who serve lots of baloney. But a ghost? Do ghosts need to eat at all? Sorry if I’ve offended you, Mrs. Tidmore.”

“I’ve made enough baloney sandwiches for my three boys over the years. I can smell it a mile away. And I reckon I know what I saw.”

 “I have no doubt that you do. Say, would you like to accompany me to the hotel before this thundercloud bursts and see if we can find the hungry haint?”

“No thank you. I’ve been close enough to that cursed place to last me till the cows come home wearing ballet slippers. Danny, you better skittle on home too before the storm hits and soaks you to the bone. I’ve got to git. Left a pot of beans boiling on the stove. Nice to meet you, Mr. Wright. I’ll be looking for that piece you write up about me.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 “Mr. Wright, are you really going inside?”

“I am. Want to come along, Danny?”

“Well maybe just for a little while. That cloud is looking mighty dark. And that’s a mighty fat raindrop that just splattered on my hand.”

“Let’s make a run for it. Come on! We’re gonna get soaked. Just a few yards more. Let me open this door. It’s stuck. I'll give it a kick. There! Wow. This is gonna be a real downpour. Would you look at that lightning? We may have to wait out the storm right here for a while. It would help if we had a light of some kind. It’s getting darker by the minute.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ve got a flashlight but the battery’s almost gone. Hey! A whole box of candles on the table! Matches too. Brand new package. They weren’t here last week.”

“I’ll light a candle for you and one for me. Well, Danny, would you look at that? A half loaf of bread. And a package of?? Yep. It’s baloney. Somebody has been staying here all right.”

“Hold it there, Mister! I’ve got a gun and I don’t mind using it.”

“What the!? Where did you come from?”

“Get your hands up!”

“Okay, okay. We’ve got our hands up. Steady now. Come on out from behind that doorway. I know who you are. You’re the guy they say killed Vance Williams.”

“I didn’t kill nobody. But the stupid police aren’t even looking for the real killer. They’ve got me tried and convicted even before my case goes to trial. I’m not going to let them lock me up for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“Easy. Put the gun down. Me and the boy, we’re not going anywhere. Besides, I know you didn’t kill anyone.”

“What are you saying, Mister? Keep ‘em up. Higher.”

“Okay. Danny and I are keeping our hands in the air. But I know you didn’t kill the guy.”

“How come you know I didn’t kill Mr. Vance?”

“Because I’m Vance Williams. The guy they say you killed is my brother, Vinnie. But you didn’t kill him either. . . I did.”

“What?!”

“Vinney was coming after me. He’s always hated me since we were boys. He thought our dad favored me over him. And he was always in trouble. When Dad died, he left his entire estate to me. Vinney went a little crazy then. Figured if I was dead, he’d get the money. It didn’t amount to much, but he was furious."

“So, you killed him in self-defense. Then you ran off and left me to take the rap for you.”

“I ran, yes. Vinnie had come to town looking for me when he found out I'd just taken the job at the newspaper. I use 'Ed Wright' as my pen name, but he knew that and located my office. He drove past, recognized my Jeep and followed me to the banks of Cougar Creek where I’d gone fishing. I guess he figured that would be a solitary enough place to do the deed. Vinnie told me he had planted evidence against me and left a video saying I had always hated him and threatened to kill him. Said he made sure it would look like he was defending himself against me. I knew he’d get away with it. Vinnie has always been clever at avoiding the law."

"You stabbed him with that butcher knife and just ran?"

"Not far around the bend, I found a lot of blood on the ground. Someone had killed a wild boar. I dropped the knife where I found the carcass. I didn't mean to leave it there, but I heard the sirens and just ran. Whoever killed the hog had done a botched job of trying to field dress it."

“That was me killed the hog. I had blood all over me from the blasted thing. Arkansas wild boars can be deadly. I didn't take any chances. Just went for its jugular when it charged me. Then I heard the police sirens and headed up the hill. Deputy Hankins showed up with the handcuffs. I didn’t even know there'd been a killing. Fool deputies. Now even though they know it wasn't human blood on my clothes they're still convinced I'm their guy. Makes no difference. They found the murder weapon nearly at my feet. What I don’t get is why they came at all. Somebody must have called.”

“I’ve solved that little mystery, and it’s enough evidence to clear us both. Myrtle Johnson was on her way to pick berries when she heard Vinnie and me arguing. She whipped out her cell phone and videoed the entire thing from behind the trees. Then she called the sheriff’s office.”

“Myrtle Johnson? But if she had the video from the get-go, why did they arrest me?”

“Right after she made the phone call to report the crime, Myrtle had a stroke and was in the hospital until just a day ago. I guess the shock of watching a murder was a little much for her. She heard Vinnie say how I supposedly hated him. How he had planted evidence that I was going to kill him. She watched the video after getting home from the hospital and saw the struggle clearly showing that I acted in defense. She turned the phone over to the sheriff’s office at once. Now they’re looking for you to tell you that your name has been cleared.”

“My name is cleared? My name is cleared! You aren’t lying?”

“Why would I lie? Danny knows the story too. It was on the front page today. Hey, don’t cry, Man. You’re okay. You’re not going to prison.”

“That right, Boy? Okay, you can put your hands down now. Is Myrtle Johnson suffering any after-effects from the stroke? I gotta know. I gotta see her!”

“As far as I know, she’s recovering well.”

“Thank God. You see, Mister Reporter, Myrtle is my mother. I gave her that cell phone for her birthday last year and taught her how to use it. She kept telling me she didn’t need it, but then she enjoyed it so much after she learned to take pictures. And now she’s saved my life with it!”

“She has indeed! Mine too. What’s that you said, Danny?”

“I guess Mrs. Tidmore will sure enough agree that modern technology has its uses. What a story you’ve got now, Mister Wright! I'm glad I got to be here. Say, I’m starving. Anybody here want a baloney sandwich? And Mr. Johnson, I have to ask you, while you were hiding out here, did you happen to see anything dressed in white go floating past the upstairs windows?"