Ghosts on the Ohio: Tales of the Supernatural
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About this ebook
Steven E. Winters
Born and raised in Tyler County, West Virginia, Steven E. Winters was fascinated with the folklore and legends of the Ohio Valley region. With those legends in mind, he wrote A Knight in the Ville, a five-book series based in and around Tyler County. Mixing historical facts with fictional characters, he focused on making his stories short and easy to read. Encouraged by the success of that series, he is now releasing his first short-story collection. Winters served as a law enforcement officer in West Virginia and North Carolina for twenty-three years before retiring in 2003. He now works as a private contractor for a large utility company, which gives him more time to focus on his writing. He currently resides near Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina.
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Ghosts on the Ohio - Steven E. Winters
© 2016 Steven E. Winters. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Published by AuthorHouse 11/19/2016
ISBN: 978-1-5246-5156-5 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-5246-5154-1 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-5246-5155-8 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016919493
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,
and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Just Wait and See
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
The Long Reach
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
The Wall
1
2
3
4
5
6
A Matter of Perspective
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Always Right
1
2
3
4
The Emporium
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Never Judge a Book . . .
1
2
3
4
5
6
The Best Seller
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Just Wait and See
1
Donnie Price awoke to total darkness. He could hear a humming sound somewhere in the distance, but as to where it was coming from or what it was, he could not determine. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or closed, but he knew he was conscious. His thoughts were blurred and slow to respond. After a moment, he tried opening his eyes. Nothing happened. He concentrated harder and tried to blink, but there was something wrong. He could not feel his eyes. In fact, he could not feel anything at all.
His first reaction was one of sheer terror. Was he dead? Or was this one of those nightmares where you awoke soaked in sweat, only to realize that you had fallen asleep on your arm, and it had simply gone numb? Wake up, Donnie! Damnit, wake up! He tried to scream, but nothing came out. His mind began racing as he desperately searched for an answer to his current condition. Chill out, dude! Calm down. Easy now. Just think!
He slowly regained control of his thoughts and tried to focus on what he could remember. What was I doing before I woke up just now? Then he had a flash of memory. Then another. Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the flashes formed a jumbled heap in his mind. Slowly, he tried placing the pieces together until a picture began to take shape.
As Donnie tried to focus on the picture that his mind was slowly forming, a dim light suddenly appeared. It flickered left, then right, and then left again. Then it was gone. Donnie was ecstatic. At last! Someone was here to help him. Then a muffled voice called out his name. He tried to answer but could not speak. The voice sounded close, yet far off at the same time. Still, someone knew he was here! A cave! I must have fallen into a cave. Yes, of course! This seemed a logical explanation to Donnie. He must have been knocked out by the fall, and now someone was searching for him.
But his excitement was muted when the puzzle pieces quickly regained their foothold in his thoughts. The picture that was forming had nothing to do with caves. It was true that he had explored caves as a child, but he had not set foot in one in over twenty years. He knew that his subconscious had recalled that memory out of convenience.
Then a tiny voice whispered, Always looking for the easy way out, eh, Donnie boy?
Donnie was pleased to hear that voice inside his head. Ever since he had been a little boy, the voice had been there to comfort him. It whispered in his ear when times were tough, and it gave him advice whenever life was too stressful. It was his invisible friend, Mr. Id.
"I’ve really done it this time, Mr. Id. Do you see what I did? Can you see it?"
You shot a man, Donnie. Shot him in cold blood. And yes, I can see it. I’m right here in your head!
Where am I? I can’t see. I can’t talk. I can’t move!
Oh Donnie, you worry so! Why fret? We’re alive. Isn’t that the aim of the arrow?
What? Do you mean the name of the game?
No, silly boy. We shoot from the hip. We go where we aim to go, and that’s why we have so much fun.
But Donnie wasn’t having much fun. He pushed Mr. Id aside and began to focus on the horrid picture that had pieced together in his head. He had shot a man in the chest, he saw that clearly. But why? How had he gotten to that point? He needed to remember, and something inside his clouded mind understood that he needed to do that quickly. Donnie knew he was dying.
2
Donnie Price grew up along the banks of the Ohio River on the east side of New Matamoras, Ohio. His mother was a high-school English teacher and his father a supervisor at the aluminum plant up the river in Hannibal. They were an upper-middle-class family and were quite popular because of their charitable donations to area causes.
But even the most respected families were not immune to gossip, and, as was the case in most small towns, their problems were openly discussed by the very people they considered to be close friends. One of those problems was Donnie. Although he was never diagnosed with a learning disability, he struggled in elementary school. Some teachers felt that his behavior was due to a lack of discipline at home, concluding that the only child of a well-to-do couple was simply spoiled.
It was around this time that Mr. Id emerged from deep within Donnie’s troubled mind. One afternoon, Donnie overheard his psychiatrist talking to his parents about the ego, id, and super ego. The doctor felt that Donnie was holding onto the id part of his behavioral development. Donnie liked the word id,
so when the little voice first began to speak, Donnie dubbed him Mr. Id.
With everyone around him being critical and accusing him of not trying, Mr. Id encouraged him to ignore everyone and just have fun.
When Donnie entered high school, he began to excel in sports. The rumors and whisperings soon turned to loud cheers as he led the football and baseball teams to winning records as a freshman, and when he was announced as the starting quarterback prior to his sophomore year, no one was talking about his lack of attention to academics. At the end of his junior year, he had led the football team to a state title. Incredibly, he maintained a C
average in school, despite not showing up for class half the time or even trying when he did.
But during the summer between his junior and senior years, right around the time he turned eighteen, Mr. Id returned from a long hiatus and questioned why Donnie was working so hard lifting weights and running. After all, this was his big year! He had proven himself athletically. Why all the work when there was fun afoot? Those scholarships to college were virtually in the bag, Mr. Id whispered. And Donnie listened.
So, Donnie began to party away the last few weeks of summer. Mr. Id was in his ear the entire way, constantly