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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2024112-Bells
by beetle
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Dark · #2024112
Written for the prompt(s): Tell a story using only one-syllable words.
It got dark real fast, and Jake heard a noise . . . like small, far-off bells.

He put on his black boots, got his shot-gun, and went out to the yard. From the back of his truck he saw her dance in the thick mud near the shed, a shade of white in white.

How did she get back here? he thought in stiff shock. And why?

For she had been gone for years, now. To a place where no man’s hand could help her and no man’s touch could soothe her. Jake knew this for a fact. He had seen her go with his own eyes . . . had been the one, hands clamped to her long neck, to see her off to the place from which no one came back. . . .

The one thing Jake knew for sure in his long and sad life was that she was gone. He had proof, for he had been there. Had put his wife, his best gal, in the ground his own self.

So who, then, was this spook, doing a mud-jig in his yard?

Jake took aim with his hog-leg. BLAM! split the night like a sharp ax split a cord of wood. Or a boar’s head. Buck-shot flew through the air and blew a piece off the shed . . . through her body. Yet still she danced, slow and full of grace, as she never had in life. As if death had made her able to float.

As if Jake and his gun were not even there.

Far from eased, Jake ran back in the house. He shut the door with a slam, then stalked down the back hall, to the front of the house. At his den, he heard that noise again, like small bells, and froze.

Scared, now, he peeked in.

There, on his desk, was his best gal, doing her best jig among his papers, which moved not a tick.

Jake gasped, his heart raced, and he turned to flee.

He ran down the front hall and when he got to the front door, he took the knob in hand. But he froze once more as the sound of bells rose from the porch.

He chose not to open the door. And a glance through the peep-hole proved his great fear:

She danced there on his front porch, a shade of white in white. On a last spin, she faced the door and Jake, and seemed to gaze in at him with dead-white eyes.

Jake’s hog-leg fell to the floor from a hand that was numb. His best gal danced to the door, her body a-jerk and a-flail, now. At the door, she leaned close, one dead eye to the peep-hole.

The knob in Jake’s hand began to turn. He let go and backed away. His heart began to pound and he clutched at his chest as the door opened with a long, low creak.

The sound of bells was close, now, and Jake froze and screamed as she danced her way in the house. He backed down the hall and screamed as the sound of bells grew to a great din. He turned to flee once more and felt her cold, dead hands on his neck. . . .

*


It got bright real fast.

The mud-logged yard was still. Not a thing moved. All was still from the house, to the back of the truck, to the shed.

It looked as if no one had been to the old Colt place in years.

And, in fact, no one had, save for the man who’d lived there. Once, that man had had a wife, but she had been gone for years, now. The people of the close-knit town of Red’s Run knew this for a fact. They all guessed that Jenn Colt had run off . . . that, or she had gone to the place from which no one came back. To a place where no man’s hand could help her and no man’s touch could soothe her. . . .

And they all knew for sure that, in his long and sad life, Jake Colt had not got over the loss well . . . or at all. Had not got over the fact that his best gal was gone. (None had proof, no, nor doubt, for Jake had been smart. Had put his wife in the ground his own self. And she was not seen ever-more.)

Now, Jake, too, was gone. Not to be seen ever-more. The only clue of his where-‘bouts to be found was a shot-gun that had been dropped near the open front door. And, if one stayed to hear it—and none did—the faint sound of bells, small and far-off.

END
© Copyright 2015 beetle (beetle at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2024112-Bells