Monday, April 16, 2018

WEP - The Road Less Traveled


WILDWOOD HOLLER

Gran lived at the end of Wildwood Holler in rural West Virginia, on a road that cheered the heart with its pure beauty. Gran was a sweet giving woman, and most of the residents in the area called her “Doc” because of her knowledge of herbal healing remedies. Others called her a sorceress.

Gran was amused by the talk of black magic. The rumors had started after my grandfather died. He had a bad heart, but most of his family blamed Gran, claiming she’d bewitched him.

In his memory Gran only wore black. On her excursions to town for supplies, she’d wear her best black cloak and hat, adding to the mystique. Folks would cross the street to avoid eye contact and, in the lines at the grocery store, they’d back away so she could go first.

The fear of her powers grew after three hoodlums decided they’d pay the witch doctor a visit.

Her log cabin sat at the end of the holler, on a small rise, and her front windows, oval in shape, gave the appearance of glaring orbs. She lived alone and appreciated the view of approaching visitors.

On a windy October day, Gran saw three youngsters and knew they were up to no good. Two of the boys stayed behind, but the third marched to her front door. He knocked but jumped in surprise when she opened it.

“Well, young man?”

“My mum, she’s got a bad headache. She sent me for help.”

“Of course. Tell me about her pain.”

The boy shrugged. “She hurts. She’s gone to her bed.”

“I see,” Gran told him. “Give me a minute.

Gran doubted his need for the remedy, but she couldn’t turn him away. And a headache remedy was simple.

“This is willow bark tea, just brew some for her. She should start feeling better soon.”

“That’s it, tea?” the boy said.

“It has healing properties, I promise.”

He threw a nickel at her and raced back to the others. “Tea, she gave me tea.”

“Let’s test it. See if it works.”

“Don’t we need someone with a headache?”

“It’s either tea or a magic potion. Let’s see what it does to Carol. She’s stupid enough to drink it.”

“Yeah!’

The boys hurried home and mixed the remedy into Dirk’s sister's usual tea mixture. She drank, but nothing happened. The fact alone pissed them off. “We need to go back. We need proof she’s a witch. Only this time we won’t knock on the door. Jay, draw us a picture of the inside of her place. We’ll go at midnight.”

“But what if she catches us? Turns us into toads?”

“We’ll be real quiet. Dress in black and remove our shoes. She won’t know we’re there. We just have to listen for her snoring. My grandma snores like a freight train, that’s why mom put her bed out on the porch. Once we’re sure the witch is asleep, we’ll find the proof. Make sure your flashlights have new batteries.”

For the next several days and nights it rained. So much so that the boys delayed their adventure until the sun came back out and dried the muddy roads. Halloween night the moon was high, the air cold, and the atmosphere electric. Bravado built up over the week due to the severe weather didn’t fade even though the boys were planning their visit on the spookiest night of the year.

“Maybe we should wait. If she’s a witch, her powers will be at their highest. Won’t they?” Jay asked.

“We’ll get there after midnight. It’ll be the First, and by then her powers will be all used up. It’s perfect,” Joey, the ordinarily quiet of the three assured them.

The boys were so sure of their plan they went straight to the cabin. Tiptoeing up the steps, they opened the door. It screeched against the intrusion. A sound that seemed to form the words, “get out”. The noise had the boys standing perfectly still. Waiting, each drew a deep breath, but Dirk found his courage and motioned. They followed his lead and stepped inside. The room was pitch black. Each of them tried their flashlight. None worked, despite the new batteries.

Dirk immediately lit a match. “Do you see a candle or a kerosene lamp anywhere?” he whispered

As they gazed around the room, a noise quickened their hearts. Suddenly a flash of light caught their attention, and all three of them stared with mouths open.

Gran had suddenly appeared at the door of her bedroom. A green light highlighted her face, and a well-practiced cackle escaped her throat.

The boys took off. Screams, high pitched and full of fear trailed after them. Gran turned off her flashlight, put her emerald green glass coaster on the table and laughed until she cried.

“Happy Halloween, boys.”

***

I wish that were the end of my story, but those boys got the townspeople all riled up with stories of a magic potion that almost killed their sister. While some called the boy's story hogwash. Others said that it proved evil lived at the end of Wildwood Holler.

Two weeks after Halloween several men visited Gran. Only they didn’t knock on the door. They threw burning torches through her windows. As the cabin burned to the ground, green flames and a horrifying scream chased the true evil back to town. Grown men crying like babies stumbled over each other on the sprint back. The leader of the group was found dead in his bed the next day. They say that terror was still visible on his countenance.

Gran’s body was never found, but now Wildwood Holler is known as Witchwood Holler. A haunted place where floating green lights, the disturbing sound of crazed laughter, and the failure of anything electric to work, continues to scare off the heartiest of the ghost hunters.
***

980 words / FCA
Yolanda Renee © 2018


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46 comments:

Elephant's Child said...

Oh Yolanda. How I wished the story could have stopped at 'Happy Halloween boys'. How I wish so many Gran's stories could have stopped at that point. But they didn't. And don't.
Despite my yearnings for a happy ending, this is, as always, thought provoking and stellar. Thank you.

Natalie Aguirre said...

Really enjoyed reading your story. Gran sounds like such an interesting character and I feel sorry for her tragic end.

cleemckenzie said...

I'm hoping those mysterious lights are signs that Gran is still there and the ignorant and superstitious need to watch their steps. Great entry!

Michael Di Gesu said...

Hi, Renee,

Enjoyed your story! Great Halloween tale. Poor Granny.... she was a kind old soul. It always surprises me how stupid some people can be just because a person keeps to themselves.....

Hilary Melton-Butcher said...

Hi Renee - such a great entry ... and so easy to read - yet so true in its possibilities. Sad that people go to those lengths of hate ... and as Lee says let's hope Gran is still there ... gently protecting the neighbourhood, yet frightening away the 'horrors' ... cheers Hilary

Donna B. McNicol said...

Perfection!!! Loved it...

Donna B. McNicol|Author and Traveler
A to Z Flash Fiction Stories | A to Z of Goldendoodles

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Donna!

Yolanda Renée said...

I do too, but judging folks seems to be the way most people spend their time today. Jumping to conclusions and worse! Thanks, Hilary!

Yolanda Renée said...

Hi, Michael!
So good to have you back on the team. Your writing is excellent and your story, wonderful! Kay is something else!

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Lee, I'm sure they are.

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Natalie. Granny's always are interesting.

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Sue, they seldom do, and I did consider ending it there, but that isn't how things are, then or today.

Tyrean Martinson said...

Excellent story!
I hope it's okay that I'm posting my WEP on Wednesday.

Pat Hatt said...

I knew the story wouldn't stop there. Funny, in a pathetic way, how easily people believe such things. Great story indeed.

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Tyrean, and no it's no problem. Posting early or on Wednesday is A-Okay! Always!

Yolanda Renée said...

It played out similarly in Salem. Thanks, Pat!

Denise Covey said...

Oh my, this reminded me of To Kill a Mockingbird and the Australian story, Jasper Jones. Townspeople often like to demonise what they don't understand and build it up in their minds until they grow a false belief. Then they torment until something happens, usually something bad.

Great story dripping from your mind and fingers, Renee. Go you!

Denise

desk49 said...

A sweet hearted woman
Some brats they call kids
In Wildwood Holler
True evil ones lived

From a Halloween prank
To a fire that glowed green
Those evil men got what was
Coming to them it seems


That is a road I don't won’t to travel down.

Olga Godim said...

Such a tragic story. Unfortunately, it is also very realistic. Great post, Renee, despite its painful ending.

Elizabeth Seckman said...

What a sad story. There is a novel/movie in that little short...

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Denise. Especially for the comparison, I'll have to look up Jasper Jones. All it takes is a little rumor and folks love to find the worst.

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Ellis. Lovely response. As the granddaughter I'd have rebuilt the cabin and carried on in her place! :)

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Olga. True folks are too easily swayed to the dark side.

Yolanda Renée said...

I hope so, I've always wanted to immortalize my grandmothers by telling their stories. Thanks, Elizabeth.

PS: I loved the holler!

Nilanjana Bose said...

Gran's alive on a different plane and still working her magic and carrying on with her healing.

How quick we are to condemn what we don't immediately understand! We dismiss anything that doesn't fit our preconceived notions, never once thinking of the ramifications - the actual impact on lives.

This was sad and powerful and all too relatable. Masterfully done. Btw, I learned the US use of 'holler' as well.

Yolanda Renée said...

Hi, Nila, LOL holler is an unusual word for such a beautiful place. I loved visiting my grandmother in the holler. She taught me a lot and one of the strongest women in mind and heart. And yes, she inspired this story.

Deborah Drucker said...

The history of how women accused of witchcraft were treated is horrific. And the tendency for some of the young to get into this nasty kind of behavior shows our dark side. It was some justice that the leader of the group who attacked Gran suffered for it. I like to think she survived as well.

L.G. Keltner said...

At least Gran got in a good laugh before tragedy befell her. Great story!

Yolanda Renée said...

Yes, she did. :) Thanks, Laura.

Shannon Lawrence said...

Oh, love it! I hope they all paid in some way.

Yolanda Renée said...

History is doomed to repeat, we are doomed to allow it. Thanks, Deborah.

Yolanda Renée said...

That they did! :) Thanks, Shannon.

D.G. Hudson said...

Loved this. It seems the ones with the most fear always resort to guns or fire. It makes them braver. I still get upset at all the witch burnings just because someone named you as evil. I would have been one of those herbal ladies, if I lived in those days. And I do like black too. Well done, Yolanda!

Christopher Scott Author said...

An enjoyable modern take on witches and the superstition that surrounds them.

from:christopherscottauthor.wordpress.com

J Lenni Dorner said...

Sadly, a realistic ending.

I am a bit unclear as to why Jay would know what the inside of the place looks like. "Jay, draw us a picture of the inside of her place. "

Good story.

Nas said...

I liked this! Actually boys everywhere think of old ladies as witches!

Yolanda Renée said...

Yep, I'd have been burned as a witch too. LOL Thanks, DG!

Yolanda Renée said...

Hi, Christopher, they do have a bad name.

Yolanda Renée said...

Hi, J
He was the boy who bought the tea.
Thanks,

Yolanda Renée said...

LOL, yes they do!

Chemist Ken said...

I feel bad for Gran. Hopefully, she's hiding somewhere in another town.

Yolanda Renée said...

LOL, thanks, Ken!

Adura Ojo said...

Oh my! Where is Gran?
I love the 'real' ending and how you brought it to its conclusion, Yolanda.

Julie Flanders said...

I loved the Halloween ending but then the "real" ending gave me chills. Awesome work as always, Yolanda. I hope Gran is living peacefully somewhere!

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Julie. I'm sure where ever she is she's helping others.

Yolanda Renée said...

Thanks, Jo-ke Ojo!