Read “The Truth About Sadie Wilkins” from the beginning.
Episode 2: Ghost in the Graveyard
Watermelon.
Warm from the sun.
Fresh off the vine.
Sometimes, memories return in waves, like heat risin' from the sweltering ground at 103-degrees with 65 percent humidity.
My childhood blurs bends and morphs into images that seem both real and like a mirage or somethin’.
Colorful yet transparent.
Fleeting.
Runnin' barefoot through the grass.
Cut feet.
Bruised ankles.
Fishin' in Mr. Tucker's Pond.
Covered in gunk. Who knows what?
I don't think I wore shoes at all that summer.
It’d been a while since I chased the little girl up the hill to East Shady Grove Cemetery. I was doin' my best to keep quiet and melt into the surroundings, hopin' Daddy would be too busy to notice me. So far, it was workin'.
Me and my brothers had fun explorin', but they stayed away from the graveyard. And I hadn't even told them about the little girl yet. Soon enough, I came up with a plan.
***
"C'mon on, Stevie, don't be a chicken. I always wanted to play Ghost in the Graveyard in a real cemetery!"
"No! I don't want to!" His bright blue eyes flashed irritated at me. "Why do you always want to do stuff you know will get us a ass-whoopin'?"
"I'll do it," said Tommy. "I ain't sacred."
Tommy was the youngest of us three, and he really wasn't scared of nothin' as far as I could tell. He's the only one of us who never shed a tear when Daddy took a swing at him with that nasty leather belt or a switch from a nearby sapling. And if Daddy made him go get the switch himself, he'd always bring back one that looked good but ended up crackin' before he did.
Stevie laughed while he cried. He was tall and gangly, with shaggy brown hair—so shy and timid, it hurt. Daddy started calling him a freak because he would laugh so crazy when he was gettin' beat.
Anyway.
"We need at least three players," I said. "What if I go ask our neighbor to come and play? I been wantin' to meet her. She's always out there playin' alone."
"If you talk her into coming, I'll do it," said Stevie. "It's dark. I bet she won't want to."
Rhonda was a pretty girl. Kind of quiet and shy. She had long blond hair and the greenest eyes. Stevie happily agreed to play Ghost in the Graveyard when I came back to the house, hand in hand with her.
"We decided the last one through the cemetery gate gets to be the first one to be it," I said, squeezing Rhonda's hand.
"Then we hold onto the gate and close our eyes, and the Ghost hides. Oh yeah. And we have to count to fifty, like this," said Rhonda.
She held her flashlight up to her face and counted.
"One Ghost in the Graveyard, two ghosts in the Graveyard, three ghosts in the Graveyard. See what I mean?"
Smiling, she raised her flashlight in the air.
"Y'all ready?" I squealed.
"Wait, I." Stevie never got to finish his sentence.
"GO!" Rhonda flung her arm down, jumping up at the same time, and came eye level, smiling right in my face. She had some spring. And that girl was fast. She was off like a jackrabbit, and I was right behind her. Of course, we planned it so we'd have a head start on my brothers.
We ran up the hill, the light from our flashlights bouncing around like falling stars on the dark dirt road. Rhonda was in the lead. I turned around in time to see Tommy push Stevie and take third place. I was hell-bent on staying ahead of him. Rhonda was waitin' when I got there, huffin’ and puffin’. I grabbed ahold of the gate right before Tommy latched on. Stevie came trudgin’ up the hill sayin' how it wasn't fair.
"Fair ain't got nothin' to do with it," Tommy laughed. "You're it. You better go hide!"
We started counting. "One Ghost in the Graveyard"... and Stevie took flight.
East Shady Grove Cemetery was lit up more than I expected, which I found incredibly disappointin’. I could see Tommy headin' for the little mausoleum up in the corner. It didn't look like a place Stevie would hide. He didn't like creepy old buildings.
Rhonda was lookin’ behind the biggest headstones, which made more sense to me. But I knew my brother better than anyone. He was a climber, and one particular tree sittin' in the middle of a bunch of gravestones looked like a perfect hidin' place.
I headed up toward the giant willow, sure he'd be up in a branch peerin' down at me, and I’d have to beg Tommy to catch him. I wasn't climbin' no tree.
***
It was a lot darker in this part of the cemetery. Even the air seemed different over here. Colder. And it was gettin' foggy. I put my arms around myself to stop shiverin’.
"Go home. It's not safe here," whispered a wee voice.
"Rhonda? Is that you?"
The voice got more frantic. "Please. Go now. He's coming!"
Just then, Stevie walked out from behind the tree. Relieved, I ran up and grabbed him by the shoulders.
"GHOST IN THE GRAVEYARD," I yelled. "GHOST IN THE GRAVEYARD!"
Two beams of light flashed in the distance, signallin’ that Rhonda and Tommy heard me and were runnin’ to the safe zone. I could see their lights bouncin’ around as they made their way to the cemetery gate.
"I'm safe!" I declared. "Go get 'em, Stevie!"
Without a word, he headed toward the gate.
"I told you to run," came a distressed voice behind me. I turned in time to see a small figure slippin' away into the shadows. I chased the little girl into the woods and lost her.
"Little girl!" I called.
I shined the light around in the foliage and branches ahead. What I saw made my heart feel like it’d stopped beatin’. There in the darkness was Stevie holding Rhonda by the hair, his hand over her mouth.
Read Episode 3
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