Throwback Thursday, anyone?
Okay, I’ve been holding out on you! I need to put you on the edge of your seat. A genuine, firsthand encounter – Lol, sorta.
Back in the 1990s, adrenaline junkie years, we enjoyed going to reputed places of genuine encounters with the unexplainable. We often attracted teenagers who truly weren’t as anxious to encounter a ghost as they acted like they were. Sometimes, they just needed an attitude adjustment – a dose of reality that really was explainable, if they really thought about it…
But most of the time they didn’t. Energy that becomes uncontrollable with a little adrenaline and alot of raging hormones. I never really enjoyed making teenage boys scream like little girls, but sometimes it can’t be helped =)
At one point our group included the late Kendon Horton, always a firecracker, and you were never disappointed in the places he knew about. One evening, tired of the bragging of some of the teenaged boys our group collected, he looked at me, and one of our mutual friends, and then he grinned his mischievous grin.
“Why not take them out to Dad’s? He’s not home, and there’s supposed to be wind tonight, and it’ll be really dark out there. And you know what they say about the house. And well, you know it rocks in the wind?”
My other friend and I looked at each other and grinned wickedly. We actually did know the house rocked in the wind, and made this moaning sound… And it was said the house was haunted. Kendon’s dad also claimed it was haunted by an angel, said he had heard the angel’s wings rustle on numerous occasions when he’d felt its overwhelming presence.
All I know is that Kendon’s dad had this goat – her name was Pocahantas. Everytime I went to her place, the goat ate the strings out of my brown Eastland loafers, because she liked the taste of them. She’d be waiting for me when I pulled in the driveway, and before I much more than got out of my car, she had my shoes stripped of their laces. One time I wore my tennis shoes, and she head-butted me four or five times while I was there!
Of course, Kendon knew what I was thinking and he grinned mischievously. “Pocahantas will be hiding in the shed after dark. But if she hears your voice, she’ll start bleating…”
He didn’t have to say anything else. I laughed out, thinking how much a run-away goat, bleating and stomping in the dark could put the fear of Jesus into a bunch of punks!
We all agreed my friend’s uncle was the only one with a car big enough to transport us all – my friend, his uncle, myself, and four teenage boys itching to go booger hunting! Then my pregnant cousin found out we were going and it wouldn’t do but that she had to go with us! Yea, and she’s the same one with the chainsaw and the Jason Vorhees hockey mask.
It seemed a long ride down Hwy 68-80 from Bon Ayr west of Glasgow, through town, and then out 68-80 east of town, almost to the Metcalfe County line. The old Bowles place sits about a half mile off of 68-80, and in the summer and early fall, it can’t be seen from the highway because of a cornfield that’s planted in the spring.
It was already well past dark when we arrived, and from my place beside the driver in the front of the car, I could hear the boys quietly discussing the fact it was well back off the road and it was really dark out there. The house is of the old dogtrot style, set up on stilts, with tin for underpinning around it. When you get out of your car in the driveway, the front porch is almost at face level to me (around 4 and a half feet high).
My friend, his uncle, and I calmly got out of the car, but the four boys were anxiously bouncing around, talking excitedly amongst themselves in the yard. I couldn’t see more than five feet in front of me, and I tried not to laugh when my cousin walked up beside me and nudged me. I could see her grinning, as well as my friend and his uncle.
Once inside the house, we let the boys do some exploring. The four boys prowled corners, the bedroom, and around the kitchen while my cousin, myself, my friend and his uncle stood back and gave them room. We had no need to look around, we had been there before.
My friend stood in the doorway of the bedroom, and I was beside him, on the right side of the front door. My cousin stood in the middle of the room, on the seam of the floor, where the original part of the house and the later addition came together. My friend and I were in the newer part and the rest of the group were in the older part, which unbeknownst to them, was the sturdier part of the house.
We could already hear the wind picking up outside, and my friend and his uncle, myself and my cousin were only waiting for the house to begin rocking. One of the boys spoke up that it didn’t look like anything was gonna happen tonight, and one of the others was complaining it was kinda lame, you know?
About then, a low moan started, barely audible, and then slowly picked up in pitch. Everyone stood silent until it stopped. One of the boys had eyes that looked as though they were gonna pop out of his head, and another whined out, “What was that??”
My cousin giggled and started to say something when an unearthly scream ripped through the air outside. The screaming continued, and sounded just like a baby crying. All except my friend, his uncle, and myself ran out the door like the house was on fire. The three of us laughed, and followed them calmly out the door. Pocahantas was still bleating like a baby and I could hear her leave the shed.
I hesitated. I couldn’t leave that poor baby goat out there by herself in the dark, for some booger to come along and get her! Then I saw him, out of the corner of my eye, hiding in the cornfield… Kendon with a big crap eating grin on his face. I climbed in the car, between my friend and his uncle. We got about halfway up the drive before one of them asked where my cousin was. I looked back to see all the boys in the backseat with her sprawled across their laps.
I can still hear that poor goat bleating because she was scared of the dark and storms…
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