Aldeer.com Forums Alabama Deer Talk Aldeer General Forum A short story for the holidays

I haven't done one of these in a while. Hope ya'll enjoy it.


The Old Country Cemetery




Its that time of the year again. There is something about it that makes us want to go home even if we know that home we once knew doesn't exist anymore. We left so many years ago because we didn't want to stay there but still feel a pull to return. Just to see the old places, to feel the old emotions, to breathe the same air and to touch the trees and tombstones of the past. The people we knew are gone, the houses and farms and barns and fences we climbed are gone. But the cemeteries remain. And with the cemeteries are the names and with the names are the memories. I always visit a special cemetery.

I grew up in a mostly rural area. As a boy and with other boys we had freedom that would be incomprehensible by today's child rearing standards. We rode our bicycles everywhere, swam in mill ponds ( would throw rocks in to chase the snakes away), built tree houses, shot at each other with BB guns and had rock battles. Bruises, knots and black eyes were the norm, stitches not uncommon. If a boy was mentally slow he was named Pokey. If a boy was fat he was called Fatty. If a boy was lousy in sports he was the last one picked. Every time. Feelings be damned. The only way they would be a pass is if he had a good looking sister or better still sisters. If she was a looker then he always had friends stopping by.

Charles wasn't exceedingly smart, nor particularly good in sports. But Good Lord did he have a beautiful sister. He and I had always got along but when I realized what a beauty his sister Janelle was he became my best buddy. I knew from the beginning I wanted to marry her. At first it was just kids together, then a couple of awkward years, then we were going steady. We just seemed to fit together. Things happen that way. Jim also was a close friend. He had a wild streak in him when it came to things that went fast and was always wrecking his bicycle, motorcycle or doing something stupid in his car. But he was a good guy too.

At the beginning of my senior year things changed. And not for the better either. A new student transferred into our senior class. His father had been transferred down south from Michigan to be the manager of the concrete plant. His name was William and he insisted on it being used. He was tall, dressed well, spoke well, and worst of all looked good. Damn handsome really. I didn't like him. None of us boys did. But believe me, he got the ladies' attention. He had the looks, the clothes, the car, and the money to back it all up. And he was a bit of an arrogant jerk on top of it all. Seemed to constantly be condescending to us other boys.

Wasn't much any of us could do about it. Just deal with him and get on with things. William slowly integrated into the school and our social structure. He wasn't really bad but definitely was different. He started hanging out with me, Charles, and Jim and we actually started getting along fine. The fact that he had a nice car and gas in it was a definite plus. And he seemed to be trying to fit in so we all just adapted to it and continued on with things. But one night when he dropped Charles and I off at his house Janelle came out to meet us. I could see by the looks in their eyes I might have a problem. And I did.

It took a little while, but I noticed Janelle had changed. Charles wasn't having me over as often either. Just little things. But they were there. Janelle seemed to be a bit busier than before. Charles began to be stand offish. Then finally one day Charles just opened up and told me. William had been stopping by regularly to see Janelle. I was being pushed aside. If that's what Janelle wanted so be it.

I'm not really sure who made the bet or exactly when but it was one of those "dare you" things that kinda took off. There is an old cemetery by a no longer used church. Its very isolated off a country road that runs parallel to the Tennessee river. The cemetery has the old style raised rock slab grave stones. The slabs weigh several hundred pounds and the sides, also rock slabs, are solidly set in the ground. Don't remember who dared who first but one of us dared the others to get under the stone slab and stay from 9 pm to midnight. It took three of us and we could barely slide the heavy slab to the far enough to fit under. There wasn't anything there but dirt and spiders.

The dares become stronger. What the hell. I said I'd go first but everyone else had to go it too. Me, Charles, Jim, and William. All swore that if I went they would too. At 9 pm exactly I went into the crypt. They slid the heavy stone cover back over. Being honest - it was really pretty boring. Just dark. Time went by faster than I thought when I heard the slab being pushed to the side. A big nothing really. But I started immediately in on who would be next. Charles, Jim, sure. Ready for the next night. But William - I could see he was scared.

Charles went the next night. He came out with a smile. Jim followed. William was looking a bit scared. But he knew he had to do it. His turn came. By now Charles and Jim were pushing him too. He had to do it and he knew it. Believe me, he was rather pale when we slid the heavy stone over the crypt. The deal was we were to wait at the cemetery with his car until 12. That idea lasted a little while when Jim decided to take it for a ride. Why not, he had left us the keys so we could listen to the radio. Jim got behind the wheel, I was shotgun, Charles in the back. Off we went.

Jim was driving too fast. I told him to slow down. He didn't. We were running down the river road way too fast and a large deer jumped out right in the middle of the road. Jim swerved, missed the deer but flipped the car in the ditch. My window was down and somehow when the car hit the river it must have turned to the side and I was blown out the window by the air escaping the car. I swam to the bank and turned to see the bubbles as the car lights disappeared in the dark water. I was alone.

I started walking back toward the lights of a house when a car came. I waved it down, told what happened. We went to a house and they called for help. The sheriff showed up, I told him what happened. There was an attempt at locating it that night but the car had disappeared.

But I had a little time to think as I was walking down the road. When the sheriff asked for all the details I told him Charles, Jim, William and I were in the car. William swerved to miss a deer and flipped the car into the river. I got out. It took a week before they were able to find the car. When William wasn't found in the car with Jim and Charles it was assumed he must have got out too somehow but drowned. The Tennessee River is like that. Sometimes it doesn't give up its dead. They looked for a while but he was never found.

So time goes on. There were funerals, there was sadness, and later there was a wedding. Janelle and I were married the year I got out of the Army. So now, fifty years latter, Janelle is used to me going alone to the old cemetery. Its just something I do when we come home. And I always thump the side of the crypt and ask William how he's doing.

You are a heck of a story teller.

I ALWAYS enjoy your stories.

If you ever put them all in a book, I'll buy the first copy!

Enjoyed, thanks for sharing!

Dang. Good one Roadkill!

I will be making the bi-annual trip to some old cemeteries soon, will be thinking about this story as I look at an old crypt.

"The Cask of Amontillado" by Edgar Allen Poe...

...comes to mind.

Good story.

My friend use to lease a place in Butler County. Had an old cemetery on it, we never stopped and looked around. Just removed our hats and kept silent. Best we could do.

On my deer hunt to Missouri this year we parked by a old cemetery and my buddies were going to move a stand and I stayed back and walked around and was amazed at all the 4,5 and six old kids buried there, 1889! most of the graves were kids!

Man im glad you are back with a story all have been great, Thank You.

I always loved your stories! Thank you for posting. I wish you’d put them all in a book.

Damn! Left poor old William to die in the crypt! Excellent story!

This right here.

Another good one!

I guess I've missed your stories or have forgotten. I was hooked and was worried about ol William. I like short stories and that was a good one. I have a book called Poachers, by an Alabama author Tom Franklin. Some good stories as well.

https://www.amazon.com/Poachers-Sto...4ee9d3bf19&qid=1764249806&sr=8-1

Thank you for sharing - another good one.

Great story but no way I'd ever go to a cemetery with you!

Glad ya'll enjoyed it. And thanks for the kind words.

Dang good story . I enjoyed that . In my line of work over the years I have found many ol cemeteries. Mostly just sunken in places with rocks for tombstones . Really sad no one’s knows who buried in most . I know where one is close to my house an they all one family. Father mother and bunch kids from early 1800s I think . Story is they got some kind deadly disease an all died. Folks was scared to buried them in normal cemetery. Just out in woods with metal pipes drove in ground to mark the corners .