The call came in a little after 6:30 pm. It was a Tuesday. The Summer heat in this East Tennessee town was sweltering.

“We’ll be out there soon.” I told Tom Sells. His five-year-old daughter had gone missing.

No way a child got abducted up on those mountains. I’m sure she was just out exploring the rugged terrain like all the local kids did; big and small. They knew not to wander too far from home.

She’d be back, or we’d find her. No need to put up a roadblock, I told the deputies. There’s not a stranger one that wouldn’t go unnoticed in these parts.

Took us about thirty minutes to get there. Tom wasn’t home yet; He’d made the call from a work site an hour away. The mom told us, her service was spotty, so she asked him to call. I did find that odd.

The Grandmother lived on the property in an old run-down trailer. Lana Sells and her mom went down there to help Granny with a medical issue. Granny gave Lana a treat and then the girl wanted to go back up to house with her brothers. We even questioned what kind of “candy” it was.

Mom said she watched her all the way, the boys even seen her come in and go downstairs to play. The basement door was unlocked.

It had only been a good two minutes since she was last seen.

We combed the area inch by inch for weeks. Law enforcement from all over joined in, not a single sign of that little girl. When we did bring out the dogs, they lost scent at the end of the driveway.

We investigated the parents, they had just about as many problems as any of the others up on that hill. We couldn’t prove a thing. Country folks look out for each other, couldn’t accept the idea that one of them would hurt a child no matter how long their criminal history was.

We had many a prayer vigil down at the church. All we knew to do was pray.

Two months later we found one of her baby dolls on the side of a creek bed about a mile away. We didn’t find anything else.

It’s been four months now and still no sign of Lana Sells.

I dozed off on the couch watching an old episode of The Andy Griffith show. It was my Husband’s turn to cook. I was lucky to get the one night off. The smell of bacon jarred me from my slumber. He loved to make breakfast for dinner.

The weather was beautiful at the Lake house. The sky a perfect blue. My own Father called it a waste of money. We considered it a lifesaving yearly escape from the hustle and bustle of the city. We spent most every fall here.

“Where’s Caroline?” I asked as I yawned not yet ready to embrace alertness. Her scream broke the silence. My Husband and I both darted out of the house nearly tripping over our own feet. My heals dug into the dirt and grass. We slid a ways more then came to a halt on the very edge of the earth. Roger threw out his arms to prevent me from falling into the water.

Frantically, I looked around for Caroline. She wobbled, unsteady on her feet, managing to make her way over to her Daddy. She wrapped her little arms around his leg for security. Her face red and wet with tears. She trembled with fear.

Four small, black crows had us suspended in air by cords. They held us there until they could lasso the ropes around the moon, putting a more permanent hold on our family, our sanity and our property.

“Take Caroline and go in the house.” Roger demanded pointing towards the door. Backing up slowly, he handed me our daughter. “Just stay calm, I can handle this.” He tried to convince me.

“Calm? You want me to be calm? Here we are in such a familiar and horrifying setting. My Dad was right about you!”

I let him have it. It was safe to say no one could hear me yelling. Roger growled in disapproval of my words.

“Let me guess, the mortgage on this place is delinquent? They sent the Repo Crows again! I can’t stand you Roger!” I slammed the door behind me.

I hated to call my dad but, I knew he was the only one that could get us out of this nest of a mess.

She quickly turned in my direction, we made eye contact. Her smile; mesmerizing.

I stumbled as I moved back behind the tall oak to again hide myself. There was a large white tent meant for over three thousand people placed in the center of the field. Puzzling, since records indicated that not many more than one hundred lived there. The compound was spread out over seventeen acres of green, rolling land that once belonged to my ancestors – It was a curse to know of its existence. It was even worse to believe in the rhetoric taught there. “The Mansion” as it was called, had a pristine location next to the fishing pond. He lived there, their minister. The members occupied tiny camping tents placed strategically on the grounds.

She strummed her guitar and sang of sunshine and blue skies. Her eyes glowed with a fierce happiness. I never heard her sing before but today she bellowed loudly to get my attention. She must’ve known I watched her often, leaving my normal, dull life to daydream. Her voice as sweet as the Angels in Heaven, I presumed.

I placed my hands on the rough bark and moved slowly to get another look. She summoned me with a wave. Her movement so graceful, her hand appeared to be floating. I went to her. She patted the dirt ground. I sat beside her. I felt the melody in my heart as I joined her in Amazing Grace.

Had I been so enthralled by her beauty that I didn’t realize we were the only ones here? l sighed loudly, confused by this.

She put her instrument down and snapped the rubber-band she wore on her wrist against her skin – Making a popping noise and leaving her flesh tinted red. “A reminder.” She whispered. “I am my own woman. I am free.” She pointed towards the tent.

Bodies, lifeless laid scattered amongst metal folding chairs. The Cherry wood podium now on its side holding the body of their leader. I screamed in horror as I ran for my life, realizing later that she would have never hurt me.

I sat in bed listening to the news report on the abuse that took place in the commune. The deceased found with money flowing from their pockets and foam coming from their mouths. They were paying for a poison of hope – Not one of them was left alive.

I jumped from my comfort, startled by a knock at my window.

“Come on guys, down here!” Ruben motioned for us. We followed him down the rock steps that led between two brown brick buildings.

The alley way was empty except for a few pieces of litter. A large rat sat nibbling on a half eaten bag of potato chips. Im pretty sure he belched when he looked in my direction.

“In here.” Ruben’s stomach hung from underneath his red and white striped t-shirt when he lifted his arms to bend the metal screen from an old window.

Reluctantly, we followed, carefully sliding into the opening. He wasn’t the mischievous type. The odds of danger seemed low.

Once inside, we walked down a long passage way. My shoes squished from water that had fallen from Rusty pipes above.

I knew where we were. We were in the Butcher shop Ruben’s Dad just closed down. It looked different from the back. Ruben’s eyes lit up when he opened the old lockless freezer door.

“Puzzles.” We said one after another in amazement. Some lined the walls in frames, others neatly completed sitting on old folding tables.

Clumsily, Ruben stumbled backwards, hitting one of the tables and knocking a few of the pieces on the floor.

The sound of heavy footsteps startled us. “Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum, if I’m missing any pieces, even just one, I’ll eat your family and tear you apart, with my bare hands, I’ll rip out your heart.”

We ran as fast as we could out of that place.

Ruben’s brother stuck his head out of the window and yelled towards us. “Ruben, I’m telling Mom when I get home! We only allow Puzzle Masters in this club! I was almost done with the apocalypse puzzle, you worm!”

“Your brother’s such a geek and so are you. He’s the only member of his own club. Puzzle Master fatties.” Jeffery punched Ruben in the stomach and we all ran off laughing.

 

It was Ninety-seven degrees and sunny.

My husband decided to sign us up for the Haunted desert tour while we were here in Arizona for our Grandson’s graduation.

I knew this was a mistake. There was no doubt in my mind he thought it said dessert tour. 

We climbed onto the Aged Lime Green Greyhound bus. The side of it read “Who you gonna call?” next to the picture of a goblin.

I probably wasn’t going to be able to call anyone. Looking across the nearly bare land, I figured service would be spotty.

The beads of sweat running down the driver’s face was another hint a mishap was brewing.

“We can turn back.” I told Carl. He waved the map of scary stops at me and told me this would be fun.

If those aren’t some famous last words.

The engine misfired as we pulled off. 

The ride was entertaining and informative until we hit the Antelope Canyon.

“To your left is Saint Martha’s Cathedral.”

My husband’s smile became insulting. 

“Calm that down a bit, Carl. He ain’t talking about Martha White. There’s no muffins in there.” I laughed.

The guide continued – “Haunted by a Priest who had fallen in love with an orphan by the name of Faith. After luring her to the Ringing loft, He pushed her to a violent death and then hung himself from the steeple. His sin was too great a burden to bear.”

Silence fell over the bus and then it sputtered once more, coming to a halt. Smoke from the exhaust filled the air.

“Well, finish the story.” I said trying to make light of the situation.

“Supposedly, the deceased Priest was able to free himself from the rope that held him. Legend has it, a ghostly figure burned down the place and is said to still roam the desert looking for “his faith.”

A passenger yelled out from behind me. I turned to see a man in a clergy shirt. His face pale, eyes dark and fresh bruises were around his throat. He cried tears of blood.

“I am he. Have you seen my faith?” 

We all screamed in horror as we ran from the bus. I’ve never seen Carl move so fast.

The driver started the raggedy ride back up, laughing hysterically.

“It’s all part of the tour folks. Let’s keep this party rolling!”

Overcome by boredom and the fact the T.V. in the store was stuck on the news, I would step out of the architectural mess I worked in every chance I had. The building was shaped like a camera.

I spent many hours a day cleaning the drive through window to get away from the monotone news casters repeating the story about the woman abducted from Broussard and all the gruesome facts that went along with it.

She left behind three little kids. Law Enforcement said everyone was a suspect at this point.

The loud horn from the 1970 Oldsmobile Cutlass Mr. Reindeer drove jarred me from my thoughts. I couldn’t understand why he chose to drive that old clunker, nor could I believe he still used a 35MM Camera. He had money and plenty of it. He was the councilman of Lafayette Parish.

“Hold on Mr. Reindeer. Let me get back inside.” I gave him a friendly wave. 

“What can I do you for today, Sir?” I asked. 

“You missed a spot.” He chuckled, then his foot accidently hit the gas. That hoss of an engine revved up. I thought for sure he was going to speed out into traffic. 

His laughter ceased immediately.

“Double exposures and a bit of soul cleansing.” He reached for his wallet.

“I’ll have them ready in an hour, pay then. I know you’re good for it.” I turned to type in his information, thinking about what he just said.

“Oh Jayson, I left something on there for you. Do with it what you will.” He grunted, pulling away.

“Creepy old something.” I mumbled.

I rushed to develop the pictures.

Examining each one, I found the roll was filled with Raynelle LeBlanc in different poses, that was her, the missing woman. 

I called the Police and sure enough, they found her clinging to life in a small closet located in his basement. He was lying close to her – bullet through the brain.

I was labelled a hero but, I didn’t feel like one. Pictures were supposed to bring life, these brought the thought of death.

The next day, I turned in my uniform. I didn’t want no part of what others captured anymore. 

 

Just a little longer. All I have to do is stand here a little longer.

The sun was beginning to set. I knew I only had about an hour to get home to Rebecca. She had just given birth to our second child. We gave the first one up, unaware how to properly care for it. Children like ours were special and required light in the dark to keep their mental health under control. Luckily, we found a couple who had already raised three Glo Borns to take her in.

We have since visited the secret palace of Hasbro, located in the Northeast sector of Playskool, a town full of energetic, happy, healthy children that are unable to stand the dark. We never realized how many of us there were spread out across the land until we enrolled in the Firefly classes there. We were taught how to absorb the light we needed in order to radiate the beams required to conquer the growth of our species and keep them out of the dark.

It was up to the Father to play the role of receiver. Once a week, I came here to Pawtucket and stood at the spectrum window. Once my body was engulfed with energy, I was able to go home to our little one. When bedtime came, I had to hold him through the night. The shine was more remarkable, the tighter my arms were around him. The bigger the glow, the happier the child. This took a lot of my strength. I told Rebecca I didn’t want anymore kids because if my light didn’t work on the baby, I would have to see a surgeon to get a music box installed, tunes plus the sparkle would be even better for the kid. I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t have just bought him a Glo Worm, A synthetic light for him to sleep with-Everything else is fake.

“I don’t know what this is, if it’s not whipped cream.” I stuck my finger down to touch one of the peaks. Mother’s hand came out of no where, like it had so many times before and smacked mine.

Me and Ralphie both jumped back from the table. Her voice was deep and manly. We were normally startled by it even when we weren’t in trouble.

The same old cigarette hung from her mouth and moved up and down when she spoke. She quit smoking four months ago, said keeping it there took away the urge. Ralphie and I stepped backwards to escape her, anticipating at any moment she would hit one of us with that wooden spoon she had in her hands. The one she used to sculpt the mountains.

“You boys get outside!” She pointed towards the screen door. “You wanted help with this project for the science fair but you can’t keep your grubby paws off of stuff.” She took her apron off, showing all of her plaid shirt and gleefully spun around to the face the counter. It was then I noticed the bottle. “She’s back on the juice, brother.” I whispered to Ralphie.

She mustered up a good amount of spit from deep in her soul and let it fly into the aluminum sink. She had both arms propped up on the edge so she could watch the water wash it completely away. Her head hung there for a few minutes more – now looking at nothing.

She reached over and flipped through the dial of the old transistor radio, straightening the antenna to get a better sound. She sang along with Diana Ross and cried hysterically trying to quote the lyrics to “Come see about me.”

“Didn’t I tell y’all to get outside?” She screamed. “It’s your fault your Daddy left us in this old farmhouse in the first place.”

That was our queue to go. We ran as far as we could out into the corn fields, sitting quietly in the midst of the tall stalks.

“Oh boys.” Her voice drawn out to purposely increase our anxiety. We could hear her corn knife making a path for her through the thickness. I actually didn’t care if he killed us. I was tired of pretending Dad was Mom and that he didn’t kill her.

It was the last weekend of Summer. The sun was beginning to rise. We had been up all night and hadn’t slowed down a bit.

I pulled Sally in a little closer. The Farmer, the Poet and the Magician were all standing in the bed of the truck, pounding its roof to the tune of Cripple Creek. My speed reached about fifty going down the grass covered, unkept road. The Private Property sign never stopped us from visiting this place before and it wasn’t going to stop us this morning.

I removed my arm from behind Sally, then took her hand and put it on the gear shift. I placed my hand over hers and went through the motions.

The faster we went, the louder the laughter. I turned to look at my friends. Their hair blowing in the wind and smiles as big as Boston. We would be headed off to college soon.

I turned quickly to face the front when Sally screamed. The truck careened off into the water. I pushed the door open before we were fully submerged. We all escaped. The current pulled us downward – fast. I bounced off of the concrete steps to a glorious temple. The glow from its cross was too much for my eyes – I covered them. I knew where we were – Atlantis!

“Look, it is real!” I tried to speak to the others but produced nothing but a gurgling noise. I panicked, looking from side to side, now treading through the water, I realized my friends were gone!

“Wake up you big goof! You never could handle these end of summer bashes!” A crowd formed around me. I purposely sunk back down into the jacuzzi to escape all of the jokes.

Pushing me through the door, Miranda giggled as Ryan and Viv fell frontward on top of her. They all nearly came crashing to the ground. I hated these types of activities but did them to keep the playing field fair with Miranda. I participated in such things as these Escape Rooms and she accompanied me to Poetry readings at the Barista Parlor.

This one was set up in a Green House. We had to search for the code to unlock the door that led to an underground tunnel. The passage way would take us to the main house and from there we would find our way out via clues and videos.

I wondered how hard it could be as I typed in 4202, the number I quickly noticed on the potted plant. It didn’t work but, 3668 did! “Yay!” The group was happy and I was thrilled to please Miranda.

Entering the tunnel, the door slammed behind us. It was pitch black. We couldn’t see our own hands in front of us. I pulled out my Cell phone with the intent of using the flashlight to find the next door. Looking around the place, I realized there wasn’t any more.

Panicked, I tried to exit the way we came in – No luck! My friends – now in tears fought for any way to freedom. I stood behind them, holding my phone high above my head, giving them the sight they desperately needed.

I quieted them when I heard a voice come over the loud speaker. “There is no way of escape.” His words drawn out in horror. “You are now faced with the decision of a lifetime.” The room went silent, flood lights clicked on.

I reached deep into my pocket and fell down to one knee. I slipped the diamond on Miranda’s finger. “Marry me?” She smacked me across the face with her small hand before agreeing. The group cheered!

My Uncle Buddy opened the door and congratulated us. “Pays to have kinfolk out here in the country. I created this fake Escape Room all by myself. I bet You’ll never hear of another proposal story like this one.”