CARVED IN STONE part 7

Copyright (c) 2020 by Randall R. Peterson ALL RIGHTS RESERVED This is a work of fiction. All persons, locations and actions are from the author's imagination or have been used in a fictitious manner.

CARVED IN STONE

Part 7

By R. Peterson

 

Allison went downstairs to heat more water for tea. “A gang of murdering scarecrows attacking the town!” Sheriff Walker looked out the window. Heavy rain beat against the glass; a heavy oak in the front yard appeared to bend with the wind. Broken branches littered the lawn. The storm appeared to be getting worse … rather than receding. “Why wasn’t this on the news?”

“The Vanishing River Tribune tried to cover the story but the entire town was in kayos,” Melania said. “And the national news was too busy with World War Two to care about what was going on in a small town in Montana. Your great uncle, Judge Walker, and others were starting their own war trying to seize all the power in the city. I’m sure they told the newspaper what to print. They locked me up in jail so I couldn’t make any trouble for them.”

“Did it work?” The sheriff smiled.

“I’ve had a knack for starting trouble since the day I got my driver’s license,” Melania told him. “Sometimes it’s just a little harder to get all the wheels turning.”

Allison arrived with a fresh pot of tea. “Who wants to do more traveling?”

 

Scarecrows part 4 Love & Loss

 

By R. Peterson

 

 

The sheriff sat up on the cot, his head was still swimming but he was starting to feel better. He slipped the white bag, with holes cut out for his eyes and mouth, over his head before he tottered outside. The encampment was surprisingly silent; the children, who had so often awakened him while he lay in feverish dreams, were nowhere to be seen. Voices drifted across the rows of pumpkin and onion vines coming from the grain fields. Joe Walker staggered toward them. Snow had been brushed away from a large area where a crowd of Mommet gathered.

The frozen ground had been painstakingly tilled and worked till the soil lay piled in soft furrows. An oversize scarecrow walked the rows spilling what looked like ashes from a bulky sack with a small hole cut in the bottom, Joe noticed Eve standing with her children.

“Are you sure you are healthy enough to be up?” She whispered, as he stood beside her.

“What are they doing?” He kept his voice low.

“It is the ceremony of Awakening.” Eve murmured. “The ashes of the dead killed by the Hodmedod are mixed with the grain seed so that after next year’s harvest they will once again be straw.”

They watched as the group followed humbly behind the planter with rakes and covered the furrows.

The ground felt damp beneath his boots as he followed Eve down the rows.

            “Do they add water to the seed before it’s covered?” he asked.

            “Only the family’s tears,” Eve said.

Eve led him to an area under the trees that contained three crudely made wooden coffins.

            “Our customs are different than yours,” Eve said. “Your companions did not survive, I’m sorry.” She put her hand on his shoulder. ”Were you close to them?”

            “One was a good friend.” The sheriff thought of his subordinate and the loyal service he had given. “And the other two were enemies.” He thought about the men his brother had sent with him, they were probably along to kill him and his deputy.

He opened the casket lid and gazed at what was left of his friend.

            “What would you have us do with them?” Eve asked.

The sheriff let the coffin lid bang down. “I’ll take this one back with me.” He gestured toward the other two caskets. “You can burn them or bury them, I really don’t care.” He said.

 

            Judge Walker was swept from Spare-a-Dime out onto the sidewalk with the rest of the diner crowd. Gunfire erupted across town and echoed down the emptying streets. Cars were starting up everywhere and speeding away into the night. One old farmer, who had driven a wagon with a team of horses into town, whipped his animals furiously heading south even though his farm was north-west. He didn’t want to go near the source of the fighting. The crowd began to curse the absence of law enforcement.

            “Where is that sheriff-brother of yours?” One of the men asked the judge. “Where is he when we need him?”      

            “My brother has problems.” The judge hung his head; he smiled slyly when he thought no-one could see. “I just never thought his troubles would keep him from doing his duty.”

            “Looks to me like this is a job for the city police, this ain’t the county,” another farmer shouted.

The crowd turned ugly. They began to chant “Where are our police? Where are our police?”

The judge found Ed Fowler in the crowd. “We need to do something,” he whispered.

            “Relax,” Ed told him. “The cops are helping to herd the Hodmedod. Once they come into town, and do a little damage they’ll chase them back out. It makes the chief of police look like a hero … and us as well.”

            “This had better work.” The judge shivered as he looked at the mob.

The sound of gunfire was louder now. A crowd of gun-packing men backed around the corner from Wallace Avenue shooting wildly. A mob of scarecrows, armed with grain cutters and pitch-forks, pursued them. The shots had no effect.  A direct hit on a Hodmedod blew out bits of straw and sinew from the backside, but did little damage. One man stumbled as he tried to re-load and fell. He used his rifle barrel as a club to ward off the monster who loomed over him. Streetlights reflected off the blade the scarecrow carried as he swept it downward. A metallic roar from the beast rumbled down the street as the Hodmedod held the severed head high like a hunting trophy. Several women fainted and their men made an abortive attempt to drag them away. The people of Cloverdale scattered and ran for their lives.

 

 

            Melania woke up. She lay on her cot and wondered why. Then a sound came again, the scratchy voice from the cell next to hers. “Witch woman, are you awake?” Crab asked.

            “Yes I’m here.” Melania got out of bed and squatted next to the hole in the cement wall where Crab’s eye glowed.

            “You want to leave, or do you like it here?” Melania could see Crab’s open mouth and his tongue moving, and then it was replaced with his eye as he waited for her answer.

            “Yes I want to leave.” Melania’s voice trembled. “But I’m old, too old to fight my way out, if that’s what you have in mind.”

            “No fighting, I’ve dug a tunnel. It took me two years. I hit the pipe more than a year ago.”

            “Pipe?” Melania asked.

            “I used to be the caretaker of the Black Rose Cemetery next door, worked there most of my life. I know the place like the back of my hand. I surveyed the place lots of times I know where every grave is, every building. There is a well pipe runs down from the shed where I kept my equipment, when I hit that I knew I could start digging up.”

            “How big is this tunnel?” She was starting to think she might be able to get away.

            “Big enough! Make up your bed so it looks like you’re in it. I’ll unlock your cell and we’ll take us a look.” Melania heard Crab open the door to his cell. She was pulling blankets over a pillow on her cot when he opened her door. He was short and squat with a long white beard, each eye was a different color. He looked like a dwarf.

            “You have keys to the cells?” Melania was astonished.

            “I lowered the coffins in the ground after everyone left,” Crab said. “I buried the head nurse at State Hospital North; she kept her set of keys on her till the day she died.” Crab grinned as he slipped a ring of keys into his pocket. “Even after she died.”

Melania followed Crab into his cell where he slid a bookcase away from the wall. A stairway led down into the darkness.

            “Why haven’t they found this?” Melania asked. She was astonished.

            “Because of these.” Crab pointed to mason jars that filled all the shelves.

Melania picked one up. It fell to the floor with a crash. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Crab picked up the pieces and smirked as he laid them on the bookcase.

            “Body parts,” he said. “Fingers, ears they don’t know where I get them. It makes them all scared.”

 

 

 

Margie and Emma followed the crowd onto the sidewalk. Everyone was running toward their cars the sound of gunfire was coming closer. She held Emma’s hand and tried to move her down the sidewalk as fast as possible. She felt someone brush past her. The wounded soldier from Spare-a-Dime was holding Emma’s other arm. Sean O’Brien looked at Margie and smiled.

            “You look like you could use some help,” he said.

Emma beamed as she looked up at the young man. “We were just talking about you.” Her eyes darted toward Margie then back. Her gaze wandered up and down Sean’s body. “How would you like to give us your clothes?” She asked.

Margie blushed as they helped Emma into her car.

            “It’s for the scarecrow dance,” Margie stammered. “I was thinking of dressing my Tattie Bogal as a soldier.”

Sean laughed. “At least let me get home first,” he said. “It’s too cold to drive home naked.”

Margie didn’t know what to say, she was embarrassed but she also felt like she was falling with nothing to hold on to. The feeling wasn’t bad, it wasn’t bad at all.

 

 

 

            Dr. O’Conner and the chief of police stood in the doorway of an empty building on the end north end of main street looking toward the fighting going on south of them.

            “They are almost to Spare-a-Dime,” Dr. O’Conner said. He turned to the police chief. “Have your men start driving them back with torches, Chester here will make sure they move back.” He gestured toward a huge Hodmedod standing at attention behind them. “The judge will work up the townspeople to make sure all our opposition goes up in flames. After that we do whatever we want.”

The chief of police shuddered as he glanced at the enormous scarecrow barely visible in the darkness. It felt like standing next to a circus bear that was off its chain.

            “You sure you can control these things?” He whimpered. “I don’t want my men hurt.”

            “No-one gets hurt,” Dr. O’Conner said. “As long as you do what I say.” He looked back at the giant man made monster standing just inside the darkness and smirked. “As long as you do exactly what I say.”

 

 

 

           

 

Melania followed Crab down the steps and into the darkness. The tunnel was large, at least six feet tall with room for two people to walk side by side. Crab held a gas lantern high above his head. He walked slowly and held Melania’s hand as they descended the steepest part of the stairs.

“I can’t believe you created this,” Melania said. “It must have taken years.”

“I used to be a gravedigger,” Crab stopped next to a door in the wall on their right. “It’s what I know how to do.”

They entered a storage room filled with tools and equipment. It looked like the inside of a hardware store.

Crab picked up an axe and a large pair of bolt cutters. “After you get away I’ll make it look like someone broke you free from the outside. That way they will have no reason to search my cell and find all this.”

            “With such an easy way out, why haven’t you left? Why do you stay?” Melania asked the small man as they hobbled down the tunnel.

            “I have no-where to go, and I probably really do belong here.” Crab glanced at another door to their left as walked past. He hung his head as if he was ashamed of something he had done.

Melania looked at the door.

“Does this door have something to do with the fingers and ears in the jars?” She asked.

“I probably do belong here.” Crab said, as he led her to a ladder that led upward.

 

 

Judge Walker, and a group of farmers who had stayed in town, watched from in front of Spare-a-Dime as the chief of police and several of his officers drove the Hodmedod down the street. The monsters were in full retreat … it looked almost too easy. Several of the old men from inside the diner cheered.

The honeyed voices of the Mills Brothers singing You always hurt the one you love floated from the radio through the smoky air as the judge led the men back inside. “It’s not over yet boys,” he told them. “Not until we track down every one of them devils, and make sure they never bring harm to any of our families again.

“How we going to do that?” Simon Bates, a rat-faced man who ran the local granary, asked.

The judge held his hands in the air as the men all began to talk at once.

            “We’ll meet here in the morning. Everyone who has a truck should bring it. We’ll hunt them in daylight when they lay up. We’ll search every farm, every barn. We bring them to into town, throw them on a pile and burn em. We won’t stop till we get them all, but this hunt is going to be organized. No-body does anything … unless I say.”

            The men started to leave. Mrs. Yokohama stood in the doorway holding a handful of unpaid checks from the tables.

            “You pay for pie and coffee,” she sang. “I work plenty hard - make you really swell apple pie.”

Tim Fowler slapped the tickets from her hand then knocked the old lady to the floor.

            “From now on all of us eat for free,” he said. “We’re the only thing keeping this place from burning to the ground.” He kicked her with a dirty work boot. “And I don’t know how long that’s going to last.”

Several men laughed as they walked past her.

Lowell Thomas’ news broadcast crackled on the radio. General Patton's troops and tanks have just crossed the Moselle River and are ready to capture the city of Metz.

Jap Mary Yokohama lay in a pile on the floor of her café … crying.

 

 

            A rooster crowed somewhere across town. Emma built a fire in the Home Comfort wood-burning stove and Margie was filling a kettle for tea when they heard a knock on the door. Sean O’Brian stood with a bundle of clothes under his arm. He saw the flustered look on Margie’s face and grinned as he watched her hand go up to smooth her hair.

            “I’m sorry I know I’m early,” he said. “But I’ve got work today and I wanted to drop this off before I had to leave. It’s my dress uniform,” he said as he handed the package to Margie.

“Where is your Tattie Bogal?” he asked as he looked around the room.

“Oh we still need to do some sewing on him.” Margie turned her head away; she hated to lie. “He’s put away I’m afraid.”

            “Better keep him hid,” Sean said. “The judge has everyone, including me, out rounding up scarecrows, he wants them all burned because of what happened last night. I don’t think they would take the ones you girls made for the dance, but you never know. A lot of the men in town are still angry because Roosevelt beat Dewey for president they need to take their hate out on something.”

            “Do you have time to stay for some tea?” Emma asked. She was thrilled to see the handsome soldier in her house. “I’ll have eggs and biscuits in a minute too.” She pulled out two chairs so that Margie and Sean had to sit side by side.

            “Thank you Madame,” Sean said. “That does smell mighty good.”

 

The door of the closet was open just a crack as Brian stared out at the people eating breakfast. There was a funny feeling deep in his chest as he watched Margie and the soldier drinking tea and laughing. He knew he should be glad that someone else was showing an interest in the girl he loved. He could never become human, almost but that wasn’t good enough for a girl as fine as Margie. She needed someone like this soldier, someone who could give her children that wouldn’t be deformed every other generation. But it still caused a pain deep inside him as he saw her with someone else. He tried to remember when they had danced, when they were so blissfully happy. He wondered if he would ever feel that way again. He felt dampness just below his eye he reached up and touched it with a glove covered finger. It was strange he had never leaked water from his eyes before.

 

 

Sheriff Walker came out of the woods on the road where he had parked his car. He was wearing a cloth bag over his head. Eve and two other Mommet followed him. His car was in shambles. All the tires had been slashed and all the glass including the headlights was broken. A puddle of liquid ran from under the vehicle. They could smell gasoline.

“Looks like somebody doesn’t want me to leave,” the sheriff muttered.

“I don’t want you to either.” Eve giggled as she tugged on his head covering. “Even if you do walk around naked sometimes.”

The four looked up at the sound of crashing coming from the other side of the road. Two full grown Mommet ran from the woods, they both looked burned. One who was a female, held a child in her arms.

            “We worked on the farm for years,” she sobbed. “Now they take us and cast us into the fire. Of my three children only this one I could save.”

            “Who has done this?” the sheriff demanded.

            “Your brother the judge, and others,” the Mommet cried. “All these years … why hurt us now?”

Eve looked at the sheriff. “You fight the evil across the great sea while bad men roam your own lands.”

She put her head on his shoulder and began to cry. “Is there no love in this world for those who wish only to live and be happy?”

 

 

            It was late afternoon when a knock came on Emma’s door. Margie answered. It was Sean O’Brian. “I’m sorry to bother you again,” he said. “I left the judge’s party early. Some of the things that mob is doing are just not right. We are fighting a war over-seas to protect everyone from tyranny, not just a chosen few. I don’t know who these scarecrow people are or how they came to be alive. But I cannot go along with their slaughter, most don’t even fight back. They just cry as they are burned. Such gentle creatures, I feel ill.” He staggered and began to fall. Emma and Margie rushed forward and caught him before he hit the floor.

 

            Later, as evening came, Brian heard voices. He slipped back inside the shed where he had been hiding and decided to stack firewood. Margie and Sean strolled down the path through the orchard, Sean was holding her hand. The soldier was telling her a story about how he had been driving a car when he got a flat tire. He had to walk to a farm house for help. They both laughed when he told the last part of the story but Brian didn’t hear what it was. Brian shivered it was as if the ache in his chest was spreading to his whole body. He stared at the back of Margie’s head willing her to turn around with his mind. He had to see her eyes. He had to see what was there before he would know what to do. His short life of almost a week had been balanced he figured. He had known fantastic joy dancing with this girl and now he was learning about a great hurt. A sorrow that was to him more deadly than fire. Brian held his breath as Margie turned. Her blue eyes sparkled in the light from the setting sun. Brian slowly gathered some of his things from the shed and slipped out into the trees … and then he ran. The strange water poured from his eyes … and trickled down the cloth bag covering his face.

 

 

            Margie felt a pang of guilt as she walked next to Sean. She hadn’t spent much time with Brian lately … not since this young soldier had come into her life. She promised herself she would go see him later after Sean left. Maybe they could dance again. She smiled as Sean told another of his stories, yes that’s what she would do, and she would make Brian as happy … as he made her.

 

 

           

 

Judge Walker sat in the best booth at Spare-a-Dime with Ed Fowler and Dr. O’Conner. Mrs. Yokohama sat plates of eggs, bacon and biscuits on the table next to each of them. There were scratches on the old ladies face and one of her eyes was blackened and swollen so that it was almost shut. She was little more than a prisoner in her own café. Ed Fowler looked at her with contempt as she staggered away. “Damn japs,” he said.

Judge Walker looked around then leaned in toward the other two.

            “We have burnt all the Tattie Bogals and Straw Dandies we could find, there might have been a few that got away but they are probably lost in the Motha Woods by now. They won’t cause us any problems. I’ll declare martial law this afternoon and we’ll find out who’s gonna stand in our way.” He looked at the others and smiled as he forked eggs and bread into his mouth. “By tomorrow this county will be ours, by next month with all our boys fighting over-seas maybe the state, who knows after that? I think old Adolph has the right idea the only thing people respect, the only thing they are afraid of … is power!”

Ed Fowler looked at two teen-age girls giggling as they sat on stools at the counter.

            “I hope so,” he said as he licked his lips. “There are a lot of things I want to do in this town.”

 

 

            It was dark, the ground was lit only by the moon and stars when Brian reached the rocky hills that bordered Motha Woods. He was cold and getting colder as he scrambled up a worn game trail. He was freezing and was almost ready to start building a shelter when he spied a cave entrance in the face of the rock. It didn’t look warm … but it would get him out of the wind. He stood just inside the entrance and immediately felt better. There was a part of him he knew that would never be warm again, the part that longed for the girl with the long auburn hair. His not quite human heart ached for the beautiful girl he had danced with. The human girl he had held in his arms. Margie … who had whispered to him, that she would love him forever.

Brian felt warmth at his back and he turned and stared into the darkness. A tiny light like a star twinkled from deep in the cave. He walked down a long tunnel. The light from a tiny fire grew brighter as he walked into a larger chamber. A pile of chickens lay against the rock wall. Blood, feathers and bloody meat lay strewn across the floor of the cave. A tiny piece of flesh dangled from a stick over the pile of burning wood.

A shadow fell across the fire. Brian looked up to see a hunched figure blocking his escape. Strings of singed flesh hung from below the murderous eyes of the beast which had removed its burnt head covering. It was the most dangerous and terrifying Hodmedod ever created in Comanche County.

Lemont Hicks’s Chinaman loomed over Margie’s Brian.

 

To be continued …

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

 

 

 

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