Light as a Feather

By Dan Dillard

Ouija boards aren't the only way to get in trouble. Sometimes, to speak with a ghost, all one must do is ask...but be sure you know who you are speaking to, and be ready for the answers to your questions. There are worse things out there than death.
If you've ever played "light as a feather, stiff as a board", you'll understand why these five children from Walker's Woods are so excited. If you haven't played...consider this a warning.
Todd, Danny, Matt, Sean and Robin let their imaginations run wild at the thought of levitation...of contact with the other side...of asking questions of the spirits and getting answers. They like being creeped out. What happens when they play their game will haunt them forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan Dillard
• Release date: Mar 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311067104

Dan Dillard

I write creepy. Sometimes he writes me back.In the Midwest US, there is as much folklore as anywhere else. When we're not dodging corn stalks, My wife and I raise two beautiful kids and a house full of pets.Always open for questions or discussion :)email me: [e-mail]

Book preview

LIGHT AS A FEATHER

By Dan Dillard

Dedication

To my friends from the neighborhood—the ones good enough to get into trouble with. Wear those psychological scars with pride, boys and girls.

Acknowledgments (for now)

To Lisa Morris and the Mastov Family (of Commerce, GA)—thanks for giving me the words I didn't have! Thanks to Trish Malone, John Patrick Kelly and especially my wife, Stephanie and my daughters Brenna and Schuyler for providing the artwork.

Thanks to everyone who read this story’s many drafts and told me the truth, and also to those who read them and lied. 

Thanks to brothers and sisters and best friends.

And thanks finally goes to Walker’s Woods…the town where all of my nightmares live. It’s taken me a long time to find you and sleeping is much easier now that I know where you are.

Light As A Feather

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2014 by Daniel P. Dillard

ISBN: 978-1311067104

License notes:

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, , without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

If you’re reading this and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

LIGHT AS A FEATHER

*****

"One must die, so others may live.

Make your choice, my gift to give.

Choose well, children, and never lie.

For if you cross me, all shall die."

- the Dark

*****

Chapter 1

My brother Danny and I rode the bus home that Friday to the soothing sounds of Diana Ross and Lionel Richie who taught us about endless love. The bus driver, Mr. Avery, always had the radio on and grumbled when the music was interrupted by commercials. We often caught him bopping his head side to side with the tunes—it didn't matter the style of music—and on occasion he would even sing along. It seemed funny then, for a gray-haired man with wire-framed reading glasses to like popular music. It's not so funny now that I’m going gray.

Autumn crept up on us that year while we scrambled to hold on to summer. The chill in the air and the turning leaves came from nowhere and before we knew it, school was back in session and there was no hope of escaping either. Still, as the newness of classes and friends we hadn’t seen in three months faded and boredom came in stretching and yawning, it seemed as if the devil himself had perched upon my shoulder and whispered some mischief sweetly into my ear. The devil is like an old friend to me these days, but back then...we were just getting introduced.

Much of that mischief was reserved for the weekends. For that much, my parents were thankful. It meant fewer broken bones, bee stings and sunburns. For the teenagers it meant fewer bent fenders, missed curfews and weeks spent on restriction. Monday through Friday was homework time, but two days of play were better than none, and we made the most of them.

I tumbled from that bus and waited on my brother and sister before sprinting home full of Friday energy. Our backpacks hit the floor before the door was shut and my brother and I went hunting for some of that whispered mischief.

There was a great feeling of winding down that autumn—a slowing of the clock. Halloween was coming up and that old demon was handing out free passes to be crazy just once more before it was time to behave for Santa. The town of Walker’s Woods buzzed with costume ideas and candy and new VHS horror movies for those lucky enough to own a VCR. For those who weren’t so lucky, well they usually had a friend who was. That was where they spent Friday or Saturday nights—sometimes both—staying up until dawn and basking in the glow of a nineteen inch television and the gory glory of a masked, knife-wielding stalker.

Robin, Danny, and I—my name is Todd McNeill—went home that Friday with a need. It was the kind of need that burrowed underneath the skin of your temples and set your skull to throbbing. It made us hungry so we ate everything in the house. It made us fight with each other and the only known cure for that kind of need was adventure. If we had only been more patient, or if maybe we’d chosen Dad’s Club football that fall, maybe then life would've turned out some other way.

What we did choose to do was get into trouble of one flavor or another, and that Friday topped all other flavors…and added sprinkles. It topped the time I knocked the parking brake loose and let the car roll down the driveway, across US 49 and into the ditch with me and my little brother still inside the car. It even topped the time I convinced Danny there was treasure in our attic and during our hunt for said treasure, I stepped on the sheetrock between the joists and fell onto the garage floor below.

"Daddy's gonna kill you," Danny said while I lay there moaning with stars in my eyes.

My father didn't kill me. He beat me some shade of purple, but it didn't kill me. No, that Friday we were in need of a new adventure, something bigger, something different, something we couldn't concoct on our own. We needed an older kid. We needed a teenager. They always had the best ideas, the dangerous ideas, but they also knew how to avoid getting caught. I wish we had gotten caught.

Daniel Patrick McNeill was my younger brother. I called him Danny back then. I still do when I talk about him. He’d preferred Dan after high school, but he will always be Danny to me. I was thirteen and he was ten that year. Robin was our baby sister and her seventh birthday was quickly approaching. Danny was shy and often got tongue tied, but that year he started to come out of his shell. Robin was never shy, and she spoke with a vocabulary and wit that were several years her senior. She was beside herself at the prospect of getting a new bicycle for her upcoming birthday—a pink one with a basket so she could carry her things as she sped around the neighborhood.

Training wheels are for babies, she told people. My birthday is next month. I’m getting a new bike. A pink one with a basket so I can carry stuff. Did I mention training wheels are for babies?

She told anyone who would listen in the same certain tone with which politicians lie to voters. Most folks would smile or give a chuckle, but the seasoned parents always nodded with a serious face and then grinned behind her precocious little back. Precocious was the best word to describe Robin. I wish it was still so.

Her first passion was roller skates, so the two-wheeled-bicycle bug had bitten her a bit later than the rest of us. She had pale skin, blonde hair and the deepest blue eyes you ever saw. Danny and I were her opposite with dark hair and brown eyes. We often teased her about being adopted, but if anyone looked like an add-on to the McNeill family Christmas photo, it was me. Danny and Robin were thin as stalks of celery. I was heavy—not fat mind you—but my jeans were marked husky and I had a double chin from birth.

Back to that Friday. Our buses arrived at the corner one after the other and I waited impatiently for my brother and sister to disembark. Danny and I raced Robin home and made sure she got in the door just like always. None of us had homework, so we had no reason to go in the house other than to drop our packs. Mom and Dad weren’t due home from work for a couple hours. Latch-key kids, they called us.

The McNeill home was a two story craftsman built in the 1960's, small but adequate. It sat in the middle of a row of houses that faced US 49, an old two lane highway that got less traffic as time went on and was later bypassed altogether by the interstate. It was full of chuck-holes and tree branches hung just a little too far over the shoulder of the road. More squirrels gave their lives to that strip of asphalt than I care to mention.

Our bus stop was at the corner of the US 49 and Jackson Street. Our edge of Walker's Woods was separated by a line of trees from a sprawling field that alternated its plantings and harvests between corn and soybeans. That field held many an adventure for us.

My brother and I walked away from Jackson Street and toward the Chambers’ house which was down near Fetzer Street. Our friend Matt lived there, just two doors up the highway. He was also thirteen, a few months older than me, and he had an older brother named Sean. Sean loved to put ideas into our heads just so he could laugh at the mistakes we made. He was sixteen and precisely the troublemaker we were looking for.

Danny sprinted to the driveway and then scuffed the soles of his black converse high-tops up the walk to their front porch before clacking the brass knocker on the Chambers’ front door. I chased after, but stopped in the middle of the driveway, staring off into space and trying to catch my ever elusive breath and sooth the stitch in my chubby side.

The door opened and Sean stood there with braces on his teeth, a blond crew cut and a ten inch rat tail in the back. His t-shirt was ripped at the neck and the sleeves had been removed, possibly by force. At the time, the look was boss.

What? said Sean.

Matt home? Danny asked.

What if he is?

If he is, we’d like to talk to him. If he’s not, never mind, I said.

You bein’ a smart ass? Sean asked, leaning down into Danny’s face.

You ever hear of a toothbrush? Danny said to my utter delight.

Matt grabbed the door from his brother and shoved him out of the way.

Mom! Sean’s bugging my friends! he said.

Sean punched Matt hard in the shoulder, but Matt smirked, knowing he’d won that round. His freckles stood out proud on his pale cheeks, and curls of reddish hair hung into his eyes.

From the distance, we heard his mom say, Sean!

Sean smacked Matt in the head—a move Danny and I were quite familiar with. A move that said, this isn't over buddy. It's not over by a long shot.

Sean walked away, but scowled over his shoulder. He even bared his teeth. They looked quite menacing all covered in metal. Matt waved him off and turned to us. We each produced broad smiles.

What’s up guys? he said.

We’re bored, I answered.

No kidding. I hate school. It ruins everything. Come on, we can go up to my room, Matt said.

We rushed up the stairs to his bedroom for some privacy and some brainstorming. Matt’s room was coated with stuff for lack of a better term. Clothes, toys, and sports gear lay around as if vomited up by the bed and left for the cleaning lady. Danny and I opted for seats on the floor under an oversized Empire Strikes Back poster and Matt grabbed his desk chair. There was a bumper sticker on the back with an MTV logo on it. I picked up a comic book and began reading. It was a DC-Marvel crossover of Batman and The Incredible Hulk.

Todd, you'll never guess who I saw today, Matt said.

Who? I asked.

Everybody I looked at, he said with a snicker.

He got me. He often got me. Danny took a minute to work the joke out in his head, then nodded and grinned once he understood.

You aren't dumb...but so gullible, Matt said.

I felt my face redden.

Yeah, you got me...now what are we gonna do?

We could hike through the woods? Danny offered.

Nah, Matt said, and then suggested, Ride bikes?

Nope, Danny and I responded. Too cold.

Then Matt’s eyes lit up.

We could go see if Alex is home.

I laughed.

What? Matt said.

My face got hot, I knew I was blushing and I giggled some more.

What is it? Matt asked again, stomping his foot.

Last time I spent the night there, I saw his sister’s boobs!

Cool, Matt said.

You did not, said Danny.

I did! She was getting out of the shower and I was trying to take a leak. She didn’t know I was in there. I almost pissed on her.

Did she see your… Danny started.

Probably, I interrupted, blushing even harder. But who cares?

The room overflowed with laughter for just a moment before boredom swooped back in. Alex’s sister Victoria—or Vicky as we called her—was fifteen, almost sixteen, and the sight of her boobs was forever etched into my memory. Alexander and Victoria Rutledge. With names like that, I always felt their parents had destined them for greatness. It's funny the things you remember and the things you don't.

Danny picked up another comic book and flipped a page or two before frowning.

I read this one already, he said.

My eyes widened and I pointed at the door. Sean stood there with a wicked look on his face. I don't know how long he'd been listening, but I wondered how many boobs he'd seen. Back then, I'd have bet he'd seen at least a hundred pair up close and personal. Now the thought makes me chuckle.

I know something you turds could do, he said.

We stared and waited for him to say something amazing. The quests he sent us on were perilous, but we loved every minute. Deep down I knew we’d get in trouble or have the crap scared out of us, or maybe even take a beating when we got home, but it was never boring.

Sean walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Danny dropped the comic and pulled his knees up to his chest. I scooted closer to him and he gave me a nervous smile.

Tough. Look tough and act tough or he'll chew you up and spit you out.

Sean looked at each of us, counting, and frowned.

Ya know what? he said. We need one more person, or this won’t work.

What? What won’t work? I asked.

Yeah, said Matt.

Danny nodded with enthusiasm.

Nothing. Never mind, Sean said.

And that was his game: Make sure every fish in the room was biting before setting the hook. Normally it was the you guys are too little ploy. But not enough people? That was a new one.

We can find another person. What is it? Matt asked.

Can’t be just anyone, Sean said.

How bout Alex? Matt asked.

He pondered it for a minute, running his tongue over his lips. His braces kept them shredded to the point of bleeding, I noticed. Danny, Matt and I surrounded him as if orbiting his very gravity and waited for the decision.

Yeah, sure I guess. Just make sure whoever it is can be trusted. This is a secret.

What secret? I asked, annoyed.

You shits just find another kid and meet me in the basement. If you’re not back in thirty minutes, the deal’s off, Sean said.

What deal? What are we doing? I asked.

Thirty minutes, Sean said and stomped out, slamming the door behind him.

Our eyes shifted from one person to the next, then the corners of our mouths curled up like the ever-loving Grinch and we bolted from