Schoolhouse
J.M.Blondin
3/15/2017
It
was a dare, that’s what started the whole thing. One of those kid things, I
dare you.
Spend
the night at the old school house, inside or out it doesn’t matter but you have
to stay there for the whole night. So here he was standing beside his brother’s
car.
After pushing his pack through a tear
in the chain linked fence he forced his way through, reached back and grabbed
the folding steel chair he had brought with him. Pulling it through the gap the
metal on metal squeal was enough to set your teeth on edge.
He straightened up looking to where his
brother was sitting in the car watching him, a half smile on his face. He
raised his hand in a halfhearted wave which his brother acknowledged by
flashing the head lights at him. Jerry watched as Mark backed the car around
and headed out clearing the drive. As he turned onto the main road he tooted
the horn and waved again out the window and then the car disappeared down the
road hidden by the trees.
Jerry hefted up the chair, picked up
the bag the he had pushed through the opening first with water and some
sandwiches and turned toward the building. The sun hasn’t quite set as yet but
the gloom around the old building was deeply seated already. Jerry stood there
for a long moment wondering to himself if taking the bet was really the best
idea he had come up with lately or that maybe he should just pull out his phone
and call Mark back.
Pulling his shoulders back and visibly
straightening he stepped forward swinging the pack in one hand and the chair in
the other in rhythm with his steps. “They’re not going to win this one” he said
aloud with halfhearted conviction.
The schoolhouse has sat here along this
lonely stretch of road for over one hundred and fifteen years. Before it was a
place of learning it was a boarding house that kept children abandoned by their
parents either by death or desertion. Disease and poverty ran rampant in this
part of the country. There was never a shortage of children to fill the few
beds within the structure.
Records were not kept back then so the
numbers of children that passed through these doors either as a pupil or to
live in is unknown. No one has ever came forward and claimed that “they” were
one of the lucky ones. Whatever records were ever maintained have been lost or destroyed
to protect whomever or they became bug food after the house was closed. Stories
abound about things that go bump in the night. This old building is no
exception. Standing alone out here, its nearest neighbor miles away, it has
always been a focal point for folk lore and stories based on more speculation
then fact.
The town suffered with the times and
has over the years pulled in its borders in a vain attempt to remain viable. As
people have died or families have up and left the city limits has been forced
to pull in. The school house like so many other buildings out here were
abandoned. People just walked away leaving behind anything they could not carry
with them or they no longer wanted. Farms and homes as well as this old
schoolhouse have slowly fallen into decay and ruin. Most of the homes have long
since fallen into heaps of rot, mounds only covered by the vines and weeds that
have taken over. But this schoolhouse was built of stone and for the most part
is still intact. Efforts were made to reuse the building but they were also
discarded.
Jerry like so many others that were
born in this town knew all the stories and had like others told a few of his
own invention. He had finally been called on his boast that, “I’m not afraid of
that old place. It’s just a building, long empty. There is nothing to worry
about, nothing to be afraid of.” His boasting has now landed him here at the
place he said he was not afraid of.
Mark and his friends called him on the
boast, made a bet with him that he would not last the night and if he did then
they would buy the beer for his victory party. “So here I am” thought Jerry
wryly now standing beside the building. “God it even smells old”. He slowly
walked around the perimeter looking at the broken windows, some of their frames
ajar. The broken wide steps leading to the double doors with the thick lock and
rusty chain holding them together.
He slowly walked around the entire
building surveying everything. In the old fenced in playground there still stood
what was left of a swing set. Half of one swing, the only one left, hung
lifelessly from a rusty chain. Alongside it stood the uprights of another, the
rest laid rusting in the dirt where feet use to run.
Once he completed his circuit of the
building Jerry stopped along the west side kicking down some dead but still
standing grass. He dropped his back pack and set up the chair, his back to the
building. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. 6:34, it will be dark
soon he thought settling into the steel seat.
Jerry put the phone into his shirt
pocket as it went into power saver mode and the screen went dark. He noted that
the battery still had 80%. “Not a problem” he said aloud. Picking up the back
pack he pulled out a PBJ sandwich and a bottle of water.
As the sun began to set behind the tree
line Jerry felt his phone vibrate. Pulling it out the screen showed a text from
Mark. “Scared yet little bro? It will be dark very soooooooon and the ghosts
will be out to get you!” Jerry laughed. The text went on, “just call me if you
get to scared and need me to rescue you.” There was a smiley face at the end of
the text.
Jerry typed back. “The hell with you
man. I am winning this bet and you and all your smart assed friends will be
buying me the beers. You’ll see.” He hit send, then dropped the phone back in
his pocket.
As the darkness crept across the land,
first throwing long shadows from the tree line then even those vanished in the
last of the light. Jerry got up and walked back to the playground fence. “I
wonder how many kids went through this place?” he thought. Absently pushing on
the fence post in front of him, it cracked and fell with a thud causing Jerry
to jump. “Shit,” he said looking around to see if anyone was watching then
laughing at himself at the reaction. “You dumb ass… there ain’t anyone here!”
Jerry turned and headed back to the
chair that now was almost invisible next to the building in the waning light.
As he reached the chair he saw a flash of light. Swinging his head toward the
light he saw a large thunderhead in the distance. Throwing his arms up in the
air he said, “shit….that just figures…rains coming.”
Grabbing the water bottle off the chair
when he had left it he crammed it into the back pack then pickup up the chair.
Not bothering to fold it he walked along the edge of the building toward the
front stopping under the roof awning that extended out further than the roof
line.
Resetting the chair he sits down,
places the backpack down beside him and leans back, the back of the chair
against the building. Looking up in the darkness he can make out the edge of
the awning and thinks that he will be dry here if it rains.
His phone vibrates. Pulling it out its
Mark again. “Hey, mom wants to know where you are. I had to tell her. It’s
storming like hell here and she’s making me come get you before the storm hits
you.” Jerry types back, “If I don’t stay here I lose?” to which Mark responds,
“no. Let’s call it time out and we’ll try again one night when the weathers
better. You’re not scared…. right?” “Kiss my ass!” Jerry types back. “Come get
me but I win. It’s dark out here. There is nothing going on and nothing to be
scared of. I will be waiting for you.” “OK” Mark types, “Heading out now”
“Asshole” Jerry says to the phone then
puts it back in his pocket. Looking around he cannot see more than a few feet.
Looking out towards the tree line he can just make out the difference between
them and the sky, the sky being a bit lighter.
The storm is getting closer and the
lightening strokes closer together. Jerry is getting a bit antsy. He gets up
and walks to the end of the building a few feet away; looking towards the road
for the sign of headlights he says, “Come on Mark for god’s sake, how long does
it takes to drive here?”
Walking back he pulls out his phone.
Checking the screen there’s nothing from Mark. Typing as he once again sits,
“where the fuck are you? It will be pouring here any minute.” Hitting send he
picks up the sound of a car coming through the woods. As he turns he can now
see headlights filtering through the trees. “’bout godamn time” he says
reaching back to pick up the chair and back pack.
Stopping mid move he thinks. “No one is
going to believe that I was here. His asshole friends will say that Mark and I
are lying about coming out here.” Jerry pulls out his phone again and brings up
the camera. “I’ll just shoot a picture of the side of the building showing my
back pack and chair.”
He turns to face the direction along
the side of the building one hand still on the chair. As he places his finger
on the button to shoot the picture Mark beeps the cars horn. As the camera
flashes Jerry jerks his head around to see Mark is at the fence. Jerry drops
the phone in his pocket, grabs the chair folding it up. Bending over and he
snags the strap on the backpack slinging it up to his shoulder.
As he opened the back door to throw in
the chair and pack into the back seat large cold drops of rain hit him in the
head. He slammed the door and pulled open the front door slumping into the
seat.
“Hey” Mark said as he backed the car
away from the fence. Jerry looking through the windshield as the lights swept
across the building and then the yard. Pointing, “See” he said pointing out the
front. “Nothing there, nothing to be afraid of. You suckers owe me some beers”
he said gleefully. The storm broke on top of them as they headed down the road
into the woods towards home.
Mark smiling said, “and just how are
you gonna prove that you were out here wise guy? What if I refuse to back you?”
“Easy buttwipe!” Jerry said as he pulled out his phone. “I took a picture
showing my shit besides the building.” Thumbing up the photos he held up the
phone so Mark could see the screen. Mark glanced over and slammed on the brakes
bring the car to a skidding stop. In the dash lights Marks face went white.
“Look at the picture man..look at the picture!” Jerry turned the phone so that
he could see the picture that Mark was looking at.
There on the screen the picture shows
the nearly translucent forms of many children, more than a hundred, their eyes
dead black holes. They were all over the yard and playground, all looking
toward the camera. They were dressed in what looked like torn rags hanging from
their stick like bodies, their skin white in the flash. At the bottom of the
picture Jerry could see his hand atop the chair back. The closest child, a
little girl with long black hair, was reaching out toward Jerry’s hand where it
gripped the chair, her finger tips less than an inch from his.
Neither boy said anything the rest of
the way home.
