The crews finally repaired the dangerous section of Hwy. 9 at Warlock’s curve. The pavement uprooted causing a small bulge and cracks in the road. Every time a resident of Crafton disregarded those yellow, sharp curve signs and hit that bump, it would send them careening over the guardrails down the rugged drop off that was covered in trees – Yet they never slowed down. That spot kept our emergency workers busy.
I lived in a little wood cabin a few hundred yards from the place. When I heard action on my police scanner, I would go down there and watch.
I hoped things would get better after the mend. Well, cars stopped going over the embankment.
But seven out of ten of them were popping a tire. The Highway Department finally came out there to investigate.
I drove down to the road to see what on earth they would find.
“It’s this thing.” I heard Bob Marlin yell out to the rest of the guys. “It looks like a silver ring stuck here in the road.” He made note of the pointed edges that could very well flatten a tire.
He pulled and pulled, grunting with each motion. It just wouldn’t budge.
He grabbed the Jack Hammer off the Big fluorescent green utility truck and dug in around that piece of shiny metal. He was shaking all over the place trying to control his tool.
Once he made a complete circle, the ground shot up into the air like a missile. I jumped behind the rusted bed of my old pickup truck and peeped around the side to see what was going on.
Gray smoke and the cackling from three horrible looking witches filled the air. Bob’s eyes remained fixated on their fingers as they waved him in, caressing his face with their long nails. One by one the entire crew disappeared. The beasts drug them down into their lair.
I realized that ring was the doorknob to hell. No one ever found out what happened to the road workers. I didn’t tell a soul what I witnessed that day. They wouldn’t believe me anyways or they would just say I was crazy because I take paxil.
Leesa Writes 