STRAIGHT
SCARED
From the Chapter "The Stuff
Of Legends"
It is
midnight
and it is pitch black in the
barnyard. The only sound is an
occasional chirp from a cricket that can’t sleep.
The quietness of Mr. Cleve’s farm in 1934 is disturbed by the almost
imperceptible shushing sound of a Model-A Ford, coasting with its motor shut
off, across the barnyard and under the corn shed on the side of the barn.
My sixteen year old father gets out of the car and gently closes the
door, making nary a sound. He is
very late and wants to do nothing to wake Mr. Cleve, who will be furious at my
dad’s tardiness.
He stands absolutely still
in the silence, listening for any irregular noises.
The soughing of the gentle summer breeze through the chinaberry and pine
trees comforts him. He is totally
alert, and can see very little in the murky gloom, even though he has a
flashlight. A large sow inside the
barn rustles through some dry corn shucks, sounding to the boy like someone
sneaking up on him. His heart leaps
into his throat as his blood pressure soars to a dangerous level.
Everything he has that can stand up stands up.
He feels like a human porcupine. He
is scared to death.
My father was no coward,
but when he was a young child Mr. Cleve would hold him up to the window after
supper, describing the haints and booger men that came out after dark, and how
they would torture and kill him if they caught him outside.
He also taught the young, impressionable boy that the sometimes invisible
haints would pull him down into hell, where he would be stuck forever.
Miz Lula Belle joined in the training by putting a sheet over her head
and hiding in the side yard after dark. His
father would then gleefully hold the frightened young boy up to the window and
show him the haint waiting to get him. Naturally,
the young boy grew up deathly afraid of the dark.
The young man, by this
time scared out of his wits, is caught in a “fight or flight” quandary.
Since staying and fighting whatever was in the barn was out of the
question, he chooses the flight option. He
takes off on his tip-toes at a dead run to the house to escape the booger men
and haints that are waiting to tear his head from his body.
He has a flashlight but is too scared to turn it on because of what he
might see. He covers the distance to
the front porch, streaking right past the window in his father’s front
bedroom, in record time. All he had
to do now is climb up the porch steps and sneak down the thirty foot-long front
porch to the door to the back bedroom and he would be home-free.
So he thinks.
Just as he is about to
climb the steps to the front porch, he hears a voice from inside the house say,
“Git back out to the barn, turn the car lights off, come back to the house and
git your ass in bed.”
In his effort to sneak
inside without getting caught by his father, my father failed to turn off the
car lights! Now he is totally
screwed. He has to go all the way
back to the dark barn with a haint inside, turn off the car lights, and return
over the same dark foreboding route that is filled with demons and bugger-men.
Lord, have mercy. Leaving the
car lights on was not an option, haints or not.
Also, there were not enough haints in the netherworld to make him disobey
his father. He bravely runs full
bore on his tiptoes again, back to the barn, not using his flashlight.
He runs so fast there is some doubt that his feet actually make contact
with the ground. A local would
describe it as, “he flew back to the
barn.”
The boy reaches the barn,
and turns off the car lights. He begins his return trip to the house, not
realizing that the barn door has slowly swung open on its own accord, and
Raymond the mule is softly and quietly following him across the yard.
This time the young man ambles along at a slow shuffle with his
flashlight turned off, trying to avoid his father saying anything else to him on
this night from hell. He sneaks
across the yard and is about to put his foot up on the bottom step on the front
porch. He has heard nothing else
from his father, and so breathes a big sigh of relief.
He is careful to not make the step squeak when he puts his weight on it.
He has no idea of the
gigantic, Olympic record-breaking, free standing broad jump he is about to make
across the front porch. Raymond the
mule, silently standing right behind the bedraggled young man, gives out a
combination bray and snort, sort of a “bro-o-u-u-g-g-h-h” sound while
nudging the boy in the back with his nose. That’s all it took to open the
valve on the three hundred gallons of adrenalin that had built up in the young
man’s pituitary gland. The
flashlight flies from his hand as if shot from a gun; he emits a single,
guttural scream of absolute terror, and jumps as if propelled by a rocket
engine.
Some say his loud,
piercing scream of extreme and total shock and horror was heard as far away as
the nearest town of Leslie
, making it a six mile scream.
With this single, historic scream, he jumped clean to the back bedroom
door, with only one foot making any sort of contact with the wooden front porch
in between. Consider that the porch
was two or three feet off the ground, and you can begin to understand the raw
power of the fear coursing through his body.
This was the action of a young man who has truly had the dog squeeze
scared out of him. Sensing there was
no way he could make his son go back out into the dark a third time, Mr. Cleve
got up and put Raymond the mule back in the barn, deciding that his son had had
enough adventure for one night.
Several farmers come by
the next morning to ask Mr. Cleve if he knew anything about the strange and
hideous noise that woke up their chickens and set their dogs to barking in the
middle of the past night. He
commiserates with each and every farmer, and tells them his very own farm
animals had indeed also been awakened by the same strange noise.
He joins them in their puzzlement, describing the noise he heard as a
shout or scream that surely emanated from the bowels of hell.
There is some talk of asking the county sheriff to investigate the
strange occurrence by searching the woods and swamps in that area for some sort
of prehistoric, gorilla-like creature on the loose, but the idea fails to gain
enough momentum to go forward. My
dad never came home late again. His
flashlight was never found.
The Story Page
|