Halloween Scary Stories - Culiau

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HALLOWEEN SCARY STORIES c h i l d r e n fo r HAUNTED In the town of Blakeslee, Arkansas, there was a house that everyone knew was haunted. It was an old neglected house on a side street in the oldest part of town. Sometimes, the most wonderful smells issued from the house and filled the street with the heavenly odor of fresh baked bread. Whenever that happened, people would say that the old house must have been a bakery or, at the very least, the former home of a fabulous baker. Sometimes, the neighbors would hear the sound of music and laughter coming from the empty house as if there was a wonderful party in full swing. Whenever that happened, the neighbors would look at each other and say, “It sounds like a nice party, I wish I was invited.” Whatever ghosts haunted the old house, they were benign and friendly ghosts. But even the friendliest spirits are scary and no one ever actually went inside the house. With the possible exception of a young boy being dared by his playmates, no one ever even stepped foot on the front porch. One day a man moved into town from a distant city. He saw the empty house and asked the neighbors, “who owned it?” He was told the owner was unknown and that the property could be bought for back taxes. No one told the stranger about the house’s curious history. The man went to City Hall and purchased the property. Soon after moving in, however, strange things began to happen– odd noises in the night, weird lights drifting from room to room, the smells of baking from a cold kitchen and, worst of all, the sound of a party when the new owners were trying to sleep. After a few days, the man’s wife declared that she could no longer live in so haunted a place and moved out taking the children with her. Before long, the man gave up as well. He was forced to find another place to live but he was angry at the neighbors for not warning him about the house’s reputation. He was angry at the town board for not telling him that the house was occupied by ghosts. In fact he was angry at everyone in town for treating him so badly. So he went to the mayor to complain and see if he could get his money back. The mayor refused saying he never misrepresented the house as anything it was not. “Just because a house is haunted,” he said, “doesn’t mean you can’t live there. The trick is making friends with the ghosts, learning to get along with them.” So the man went to the pastor of the local church and told him his problem. The pastor said, “You’ve been in town for a month and only now, when you’re having a problem, do you come and see me? Well, sit down and tell me what’s on your mind.” So the man sat and told the pastor about the haunted house he’d bought. Now the pastor in this village was considered a wise man, set in his ways, conservative in his manner and beliefs. He wasn’t open to new ideas but, reluctantly, he agreed to visit the house and see exactly what the man was talking about. The pastor accompanied the man to the house. As they approached the block the house was on, the pastor’s smelled a delicious smell. “What’s that wonderful smell?” he asked. “It’s the ghosts baking bread,” the man replied. When they got closer, the pastor stopped to listen. He turned to the man and inquired, “I hear music. Is someone having a party?” “It’s the ghosts having a party,” replied the man. They went inside and looked around the empty house. The pastor sat at a table while the man looked for something to serve his guest. He found an old bottle of whiskey and poured a glass for the pastor and one for himself. They toasted each others health and drank. “So you moved from Little Rock to Blakeslee?” said the pastor. “My parents live in Little Rock, I know the town well.” The man, it turned out, knew some of the pastor’s relatives. They talked and joked about those things they had in common and felt a friendship growing. They were having such a pleasant time that before they knew it, three hours had passed. They were gone so long, the man’s wife began to get nervous. “He went to the pastor’s house hours ago,” she said to herself. “Maybe the ghosts got him.” So she picked herself up and went to the pastor’s house and introduced herself to the pastor’s wife. Together they pooled their misgivings about ghosts and their worries about their husbands and went to the haunted house together. They peeked in the windows and saw the two men sitting at a table drinking , laughing and having a good time. The wives joined their husbands and found that they had much to talk about. The laughing and talking attracted the neighbors who stopped by and introduced themselves. Pretty soon the kitchen was filled with the smell of cooking. A neighbor brought his fiddle and another brought his guitar. And just like that, there was a party. The old house filled with real smells and real laughter. It was alive again and that, of course, was what it wanted all along. From that day to this, the old house came alive again and its ghosts were laid to rest never to be seen or heard of again. -THE END – Written by Harris Tobias. DEM BONES My granny was told as a child that Captain Kidd, knowing the law was on his trail, traveled up the Jersey coast looking for the perfect spot to bury his stolen booty. And he found it near a grove of gnarled, wind- swept pines on Sandy Hook. One moonless dark night, the Adventure Galley slid silently into harbor at Sandy Hook. Before the wondering eyes of two hidden watchers, a crew of scurvy buccaneers armed with cutlasses and pistols had rowed boatload after boatload of heavy chests into the shore. They were accompanied by a tall, proud man with red-whiskers and a cocked hat that the watchers recognized at once as the bold leader Captain Kidd. The captain led his men away from shore, and they disappeared with them into the grove of pines. The pirates were gone along time; long enough, according to those who watched, to bury any amount of treasure. They came away before dawn and rowed back to the Adventure Galley and sailed into the last vestiges of the dark night. Of course, the eager watchers kept their knowledge quiet and scurried down to the pine grove a few days later, armed with lanterns and shovels. But nary a gold coin found they, and in frustration, they shared their tale with other good folks in the region. After that, there was not a night when the pine grove did not see someone digging fervently with a shovel. After a few decades of this, the pine grove gave up the ghost and died away completely. By my granny's time, there was nothing left of the spot save a few stunted trees, some wind-swept grass, and on certain dark nights, Dem Bones. Dem Bones are the skeletal crew of Captain Kidd. According to my granny, they come sailing up in a ship made of shadows. The ship moves silently up the coast at the dark of the moon, and anchors near the shores of Sandy Hook. Two or three boats are lowered from her side, and they are filled up with the eager forms of glowing skeletons wearing cocked hats and tattered buccaneers garb. Around their waists are belts full of pistols and long cutlasses. The biggest of Dem Bones - the one that is probably the first mate - has a skeletal parrot perched on his shoulder. Dem Bones carry heavy trunks full of treasure onto the shore and scatter them all around the place where the pine grove once stood. Then the pirate crew hauls out kegs and kegs of whiskey and one of the skeleton's takes out a fiddle. A phantom fire is lit on the sand, and Dem Bones start such a rowdy singing and dancing that the noise would wake the dead - if they weren't already awake. When they are exhausted from the dancing, the glowing skeletons collapse on the sand and start telling stories about the ships they have captured and the treasure they have amassed. Some of Dem Bones open the big trunks and take out jewels and ropes of pearls and adorn themselves. Others toss gold coins back and forth as if they were a child's ball. At the darkest part of the night, just before dawn, Dem Bones pack up the trunks and row back to the ship of shadows. One by one, the glowing skeletons disappeared into the hold and the ship draws anchor and sails away. Retold by S. E. Schlosser. FIFTY-CENT PIECE There is a story told in Troy and Albany about a couple returning home from a trip to New England. They were driving home in a carriage, and were somewhere near Spiegletown when the light failed and they knew they would have to seek shelter for the night. The husband spied a light through the trees and turned their horse into a small lane leading up a hill. A pleasant little house stood at the crest, and an old man and his wife met the couple at the door. They were in nightclothes and were obviously about to turn in, but they welcomed the travelers and offered them a room. The old woman bustled about making tea and offering freshly-baked cakes. Then the travelers were shown to their room. The husband wanted to pay the old couple for their lodgings, but the old lady shook her head and the old man refused any payment for such a small service to their fellow New Yorkers. The travelers awoke early and tiptoed out of the house, leaving a shiny fifty-cent coin in the center of the kitchen table where the old couple could not miss it. The husband hitched up the horse and they went a few miles before they broke their fast at a little restaurant in Spiegletown. The husband mention the nice old couple to the owner of the restaurant and the man turned pale. "Where did you say that house was?" he asked. The husband described the location in detail. "You must be mistaken," said the restaurant owner. "That house was destroyed three years ago by a fire that killed the Brown family." "I don't believe it," the husband said flatly. "Mr. and Mrs. Brown were alive and well last night." After debating for a few more minutes, the couple and the restaurant owner drove the carriage back out of town towards the old Brown place. They turned into the lane, which was overgrown with weeds, and climbed the hill to the crest. There they found a burned out shell of a house that had obviously not sheltered anyone for a long time. "I must have missed the track," said the husband. And then his wife gave a terrified scream and fainted into his arms. As he caught her, the husband looked into the ruin and saw a burnt table with a shiny fifty-cent piece lying in the center. Retold by S. E. Schlosser