On Emma's Bluff by Sara Elizabeth Rice, edited by davebccanada (comprehension books txt) 📖

to mutter to himself a string of obscenities as they made their way through the swamp to Viola's. Hattie didn't bother to stop him.

It was pitch dark under the trees. Hattie wondered how late if was now. Would the sun start to rise before they got there? The lantern that she had brought clanked against her side causing some pain. But she ignored it and kept concentrating of keeping her footing as she walked.

She had taken the lead with Moseph not far behind her when a shape loomed in front of her. She had seen this same shape earlier that evening. It was Moseph's old dog, Claude.

 

 

Chapter 38

"No, no , no," Cindy said from time to time. The minutes were becoming unbearable.   She could not stop blinking. Her eyes felt dry and scratchy. "I am liable to fall asleep and miss my own death."   Her old humor was still intact. But instead of laughter she choked back a sob. Rocking back and forth on the cot was the only soothing action she could take. "Maybe this is how one goes crazy," she told herself, "You get so scared all you care about any more is getting unscared."

Emma stepped into the doorway. "Well Cindy, I guess it is about time."

 

Hattie could tell that old Claude was different again. The beast's head was down and his muscles appeared tensed, ready for attack. She did not know why the creature even bothered to wait. "I know it's you," she spoke to the mongrel

Moseph froze behind her. "Claude?" by his voice it was evident the he too knew this was not just his old faithful mutt. It was the eyes that gave the monster away. They were totally red and close set, glowing from a face that could have wilted them.

"And Jesus said," Hattie began.

"Don't speak that name!" A garbled voice came from the throat of the animal. Tossing its huge head around it was forcing the human words from the hound's lips.

"Come unto Me all you who are weak and heavy laden and I will give you rest."

The fiend leaped. It passed right over Hattie's head and landed square on Moseph's chest.

Hattie whipped around in time to see it rip it's fangs into Moseph's neck. She had the lantern up and in her hands before the death mask could take his expression. She ripped the plug from the kerosene tank. Moseph's eyes bulged lifeless at her from beneath the snarling beast. Hattie tossed all the kerosene in the tank on to the two. The dog turned towards Hattie. "Enough of you, you old bitch."

Hattie backed up, fumbling in her pockets for the butane lighter she knew was in there. When she finally grasped it her thumb felt too large to strike it.

"What do you think you are doing?" the hound howled, "Can you not see it is already too late?"

Then Hattie had the flame lit, but it was too low and went immediately out again. She struggled to adjust the settings in the front.

"The girl is already mine." Then Viola/dog pounced.

The flame was lit. "Jesus, help me," Hattie cried.

The creature was in flames before it even reached her. She could see it's body start to twitch and shrivel in the mid air. The heat was tremendous. Instantly what flesh that was left seared and withered. The last howl rang out. "She's mine."

 

"Emma?" Cindy started and then she saw the bone protruding from the neck and the way the head slumped forward too loosely, resting on the chest.

Emma moved towards her easily. "It's okay Cindy. I'm not dead. I can't be."

Cindy crouched back on the cot. "Emma what..."

"We don't really ever die. We just find some other place to go." Upon saying this the transformed Emma smiled and the effect chilled Cindy's soul. "How stupid we all are." The head swung obscenely from the neck.

Cindy stood up on top on the bed. "Emma, Emma please,"

"It's okay. This is better than what I had before." It was difficult for the misdirected head to gaze up at Cindy.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" Cindy screamed out in disbelief.

"So unhappy..."

"Unhappy? We were happy every time we wanted to be happy." Cindy was amazed at the sudden strength in her voice. "Are you saying you were unhappy being the best friend I ever had? You were unhappy?" Cindy shook her head back and forth. "I don't get it. I came to the ends of the earth for you and that means nothing? I loved you Emma," Cindy wept, "I love you."

Emma grabbed for her old friend's legs and pulled her down to the bed. "Shhhhh," Emma crooned, "First I have a lot of things to tell you."

 

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          Emma had spoken. Emma had spoken for what seemed like ages.   Cindy marveled that she could go on so. But now it was evident that Emma was fading. "Emma, no," Cindy was sobbing. Her heart was breaking for her friend. "I am not sure I understand." Emma fell limp against her.

Then from the door Cindy saw a brilliant light. A large black woman stood in the doorway waving what looked like a torch in her hand. It was a roll of old newspapers that Hattie had ignited. Without speaking she handed the fire to Cindy.

Cindy could hear the sizzle as she touched the flame to her old pal. She felt as if every hair on her own body had just been singed as well. Emma did not scream. She was gone too fast. Like flash paper one moment she was there and the next there was only a charred form lying curled on the cot. If Hattie had not come to her right then Cindy would have cracked her skull as she lost consciousness.

 

 

Chapter 39

"So what's the story sheriff?" The sidewalk was swamped. Reporters, camera crews, fuzzy ended boom mics were all aimed at Harvey Johnson. They were all there, the newspapers, the local stations, the networks, the cable shows. They were all there outside his office when Harvey came out after taking the Basset girl's statement.

"Is it true that a sixteen year old girl may have been solely involved in all these deaths? Or are there others to be implicated as well?"

"Is this related to the high school killings that have been so wide spread across the nation?"

"No, comment," was Harvey's reply.

"Might this girl also be connected to those slayings in Alabama last summer?"

"No comment."

"Is it true that the old woman was connected to a similar burning of a family some sixty years ago?"

"No comment."

"Have formal charges yet been brought against the Basset girl?'

"No," Harvey finally answered.

"Was this all tied to the occult?"

"No comment."

"Is there a possible super natural explanation for these slayings?'

Harvey turned and addressed the group. "As I have stated repeatedly. There is no place for this super natural mumbo jumbo in this case. There is no such thing."

 

 

On Emma's Bluff

 Epilogue

 

I still often wonder how my friend managed to linger on for so long at the end. Her wounds were clearly fatal. It hurt me to look at her that way. But as long as she wanted me to, I sat there listening, holding her and looking into her dear face. Now when I remember that time I realize that she had never looked so perfectly beautiful before.

There were things she wanted me to know. That there was evil on this earth she made clear. But she also made it evident that only man can inflict the worst of these evils upon man. That was why Viola Grace needed a willing human partner to continue on her spree of misery. It wasn't that Emma was an evil person by nature but hurt and rejection had made her an easy target. I remember asking over and over again "Why? Why would someone exist just to cause grief and suffering to other humans?" Then finally she told me.

She said that we are born with only two things that can never be taken away from us. They are God's love for us and our love for others. The only device that can be used to blind us to this fact is despair. When we are so caught up in our own failures and pains we loose site of this truth. And as the very old saying goes misery loves company. How sad. We create our own hell in life this way and then like a virus we spread our anguish. But if just one person can stop and see through to the wounds inside we can heal.

And now I know with all my heart Emma lives on in a happier place. I will never forget her last words. I could tell by her face that she was no longer seeing me but some place much more amazing. I remember saying, "I don't understand."

And she just answered, "You can have it all."

And when I begin to loose site of my own life... I remember Emma and for a moment I think... just maybe… just maybe I provided that love she so needed.

 

Cindy Bassett Richardson

  

- thanks...

 

S.E. Cook...