The Talk of the Town (Believe It of Not)

2,161 words

The Talk of the town

(Believe It or Not)

A book that made the talk of the town, dated back to 1819 was found in an old car in a crowded car lot. A man who owned the junk yard was Harry Wilson. He sold old cars that was parked on his lot. Arthur Mansfield looked around and spotted an old one he thought he’d like to fix up for an old tractor. Arthur always bought from him when he found a car worth fixing up, as long as he could find the parts it needed. Harry and Arthur were always good friends. The town they lived in was remodeled years ago, getting rid of all the unnecessary things. New buildings were built or the old ones got a face lift. Now and again the newspaper would publish a piece about the old town when they were able to pick up the odd and ends and outs about it, and when they did they published it. If you had any kind of stories, pictures, anything from the 1820s they would pay you for it and sometimes give you a good price. After Arthur bought the old truck he got it towed home. The next day while cleaning it out he noticed something under one of the seats. He picked it up and the name of it was, Evil that’s Forced. He took it in the house to show his wife, Edna. She took it and said, “Arthur we’d get a lot out of this book. It’s been well kept. She wiped her hands on her apron and said, “I’m going to read it. It looks interesting.”

“Just be careful because it’s very old and the pages might fall out,” Arthur told her.

“I’ll be careful,” Edna was so anxious to read it, she loved to read and she was still reading when Arthur came back in from the garage.

“Arthur you might not believe it, but the kids back then must have had a hard time. The old witch it claims, was real from the mansion tortured them to death. She put them through a lot because she had a child and it died, or she thought, so she took it out on the kids and gave them a hard time.”

“Honey, while I eat my supper tell me about it. You seem to think it’s true.”

“It’s also kind of sad.”

“Then let me hear it. Well, first the mansion first got built and completely finished back in the mid 1700s a soldier, a wealthy officer, who lost his wife, bought it and fixed it up before the civil war began which started in 1861. They said it was magnificently beautiful. After the soldier died, having no family, later in the 1850s a rich couple bought it. The husband was a rich plantation owner. He put up ‘No Trust-passing’ signs every where and put a heavy lock on the gate. People thought it was strange that you never seen him with his wife, or had she ever left the mansion. It was the talk of the town back then that he cheated on her many times and would never give her a time a day. She had a hard life with him.”

“Like I told you before that’s what happens when money gets to your head,” Arthur said to his wife.

“I know,” Edna continued “This boy 15 or 16 years old named JB seemed like a good boy. His friend David was wild and loved to scare people. The old witch in that mansion on the hill started on JB first being the cause of David and his friends throwing stones at the mansion.”

“Started what?” Arthur asked.

“Well, Arthur let me continue. It started with JB and David along with some friends. One Halloween night David asked JB if he was brave enough to go with him to the mansion. Well JB wasn’t excited about it at all and he didn’t know how his parents would feel if they knew.”

“You mean that old brick building you can see from any place in this town?” Arthur replied.

“Yes, that old building where the government was suppose to hire men to fix it up for tourist. You heard that a few years back about it?”

“Yes, I heard about that. Why didn’t the government do it? Would it cost too much money? You know what the government is like.”

“No, Arthur. The same thing happened like in the church that was there back then and no one wanted to go near it. They later tore the church down.”

“You believe in that? Anything could have happened in those days but I don’t believe it. I think you’re imaging things or lying.”

“Listen, if you call me a liar again I will never let you know anything anymore. No matter how true or not true it is.”

“Okay, what next?” Arthur told her. Then when the witch started on JB he started having nightmares and finding himself outside staring up at that place. What really started the witch to pick at them was when David and his friends went up to play and threw stones at the place. David broke out a window and a fog set in and he lost his friends so he went to the door to go inside to go find them and when he did he noticed the window wasn’t broken anymore.

“That must had scared him nearly to death,” said Arthur. “If it was true,” Arthur noted.

“That witch gave them a hard time. Their summers gives you a peaceful feeling and it was a shame the kids couldn’t enjoy their summer. They should had never gone up there.”

“You believe that crap,” said Arthur,

“Yes, or would they make up stories, who made the book, Edna looked at him and rolled her eyes.

David was determent to go have fun. The mayor Mr. Cross was going to hire men from his home town to give it a face-lift. There was going to be a lot of money put toward it. Then it explains it sets on the highest hill in Weaver Settlement having high perks, the kind with rising roof lines and steeply sloping perks that demanded attention. Listen to this Arthur, “It was a home built to demonstrate power, status and prosperity. It was three characters of strength and stability that became its darkest features. The high arching windows, its sole purpose was to bring in light, to expel the darkness and fear. Its shingled walls, a mark of some high society homes when it was built, gave the impression of a home melting from the roof downward. As if some source of heat, maybe a fire, raged out of control inside. Somewhere deep inside are walls to a home whose only semblance to the word was its shape while it shared more in common with things which are driven mad, by what it contained within. The walls where secrets roamed and hatred was bred. It was a home whose history had twisted its beauty. A home whose story began with a strong history, a history that could last longer and continue like the bible that stands firm from the beginning, and still remains the same, but not this place. At one time looking strong and stable, but whose ending would most likely be more closely linked to some horrific ending, of things vile and degrading. It shared more in common things which were driven mad by what it contained within, a fever of sorts, an infection, a pestilence for which was no cure.

But, this local history was lost on the state historical society who, in its infinite state funded wisdom, sought a unique project from the time of the plantations. After all the owner's relatives of the mansion passed on, the government wanted to take it over. It was this group, the government who had selected the house for renovation and repair. And people would tell you, at least those who knew the house, that on the days when those strangers (who came to visit the old house, who wore black over coats and out dated hats, and never spoke a word to anyone giving on-lookers feeling eerie to anyone who looked at them). They came to town to gawk at the innate beauty of such a historical property. They were taken back by what they saw and left and never returned. The house, as if sensing the chance to renew its grip on those who lived in its shadow, mirrored what these people wanted to see. It was on these days that those living in the town knew of the evil within. If for no other reason than the evil, much like a light switch, kept itself off just long enough to not scare these strangers away. The people who lived close by who heard stories about the old home and never dared to go near the place. Stories about how abusive this wealthy husband was Mr. Hellaway, abused his wife, Mrs. Hellaway. He made her work hard and forced her to do things she did not want to do. Then books were written and sold, and I heard a few years ago that there are some kicking around still. Then people's stories from around the town and about, how the husband ill-treated his wife. Then the disappearance of some women and the things that were seen and the strange noises that were heard kept people away. People claimed the wife, Mrs. Hellaway killed her husband because he drove her to it, poisoning him was her easiest way,”

“I don’t believe that,” Arthur said. “The book is a fairy tale.”

“Believe it or not, cause I believe it.”

“You image things, Arthur told her and like I said, “You’re imagining things or your lying.”

“Stop calling me a liar.,” Edna said angerly. “I read he hung her in the attic and I believe because the kids always mentions in the book that she was in the attic each time they went there and she wanted to get buried because that was where her strength came from. Then when they were on their way home the kids looked back and she was up in the attic window laughing at them. It says the house had spread its pain and fear throughout the fabric of the community until parents hated it and kids avoided it. The stories never ended. There were lots of things mentioned about what others saw, like lights in the mansion, faces in the window at daytime, and shadows late at night passing by the windows. Strange noises were heard. Some parents knew all about these things but they didn’t want to scare the children and just warned them to stay away from the place. But the children always had a fear that the old witch would get them up there for one reason or another. Then it came a time after she tortured the kids enough that JB got an idea. He told what he wanted to do and he thought it would help get rid of her forever, so his friends were willing to help JB except Bobby because they were afraid he would slow them down. He was the youngest and he was overweight which made it hard for him to run. They collected tools to fight anything they came across and she kept strange looking creatures as her friends. She also fed them human flesh.”

“Oh come on,” added Arthur. “You believe that stuff?”

“Arthur it’s hard to believe this isn’t true.”

“Believe what you want, but I’m not allowing it to get to me,” Arthur noted and opened the door to go outside.

Edna believed it because through her life her mother always talked about that place and how it was haunted but Edna hoped nothing would ever happen to her.

Poor Edna didn’t know what she was in for, because when the workers were going to fix the old mansion they had dug around the mansion to clear away anything that would get in their way. They also dug up the old well where the kids back when the book was being written, threw in the wicked witch to stop her from haunting and hurting kids.

Edna stared in the distant and thought, will it happen again? Will the witch start bothering people again now that the men uncovered the old well? Then if Arthur doesn’t believe me, he will never know where I’ll be. She wanted to tell Arthur the reason she believed it is true, but he wouldn’t believe her. She was the one the witch captured when she was a baby. When she got older and got the chance she ran away and since the witch has been very upset. Not one will go there no matter how much money they are offered, and neither will she.