Beware of the Mombie

By Ozzie Morrow Jr.

Do you want to know what happens to wayward kids who would not listen to their mothers?
Kids like this would enrage the Mombie so much; that she would grab any delinquent kid she would find after dark and drag them up to the mountain to her shack and chain them up to teach them a lesson.

This book is an anthology that tells us three different tales about the Mombies. Read through, have fun and enjoy the adventures that Michael, Orbie, Youcee and the other kids had.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665561297

Ozzie Morrow Jr.

Ozzie Morrow Jr., an award winning poet, freelance writer, known for writing Juvenile Fiction stories, and he also illustrates his own books. Born in Des Moines, Iowa. Ozzie moved to Los Angeles, California. In the 70’s to study music, he played in several bands then quit to pursue his endeavors in writing such as Nite, Nite Jase, My Dog Don’t Jump, Beware of The Mombie and Don’t Look in The Basement. Also the Author of Bear Troubles has just published this book called Xiam’s Fish, in hopes you all will enjoy reading these adventures, with many more stories to come.

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© 2022 Orsel Morrow. 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.

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not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-6655-6130-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-6129-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022910532

Published by AuthorHouse 10/05/2022

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Contents

Dedication

Part 1: Beware of the Mombie

Part 2: Stoned Cold

Part 3: The Return of Aunt Maybelle

Dedication

These past few years have been a tough on all of us with this Corona & Delta pandemic flourishing.

Through these times I’ve been battling Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma with the help of my cancer warriors.

I’d like to thank: Dr. Michael Chung M.D., Sandra (Super Sandy) Bautista, Wendy Ramirez, Mary Rodriguez, Larry Warmsley, Jaunita Jackman, William Johnson, and all the others that had me in their prayers.

Thanks again, for all your support.

PART 1

Beware of the

Mombie

O ne summer, Michael’s Father arranged for him to fly from Los Angeles to Louisiana, to visit his Aunt who had a big house close to the Mississippi river in the big easy of New Orleans.

When Mike arrived at her door, his Aunt Goldie was glad to see him and had prepared enough jambalaya, crawdads, and fixins for an army. They ate and laughed, reminiscing about the times they had when they lived together as a family, before Mike was sent to Los Angeles to stay with his Father while attending school.

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That evening Michael sat on his Auntie’s lap in a big rocking chair covered with a large lion skin. She hummed an old African lullaby to lull him to sleep but he was still excited about his trip and wanted to stay up.

Ok honey, it’s time to go to bed now. His Aunt said, kissing the boy goodnight.

Nooo! I don’t want to go to bed. Poppa lets me stay up late and I go to bed when I am sleepy! Michael whined, holding on to his Aunt.

All of a sudden, a warm gust of wind blew through the window sounding like a banshee’s cry.

Come son- o- mine, COME! Mike looked towards the window and asked.

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Who said that?

His Aunt smiled and replied.

That was the shriek of the Mombie.

The Mombie! What’s a Mombie? The boy asked.

Oh you don’t know what a Mombie is? The woman asked.

Nope what is it? Michael asked, looking wide eyed and concerned.

It’s a Mother that has become very angry with her rebellious child. Her eyes have become large, yellow blood shot eyes and her face is wrinkled from anger. She even has fangs for teeth and her hair stands on end from worrying about her child. You mean to tell me you haven’t heard the story of the Mombie before now? His Aunt asked.

No never, tell me more about this Mombie.

Not tonight honey. It is late and it’s your bedtime. You have to go to bed now. The woman said, pushing the boy off her lap.

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Oh, no, I don’t want to go to bed. Mike exclaimed, trying to climb back on his Aunt’s lap.

What! You don’t want to go to bed? My, my Michael, you remind me of the Mombie’s wayward son and that’s no good! The woman exclaimed with a frown.

What’s no good? Come on Auntie; tell me the rest of the story! Begged the boy, his way of stalling, not wanting to go to bed. Michael’s Aunt put the boy back on her lap and said.

Well alright, you sit still then, and I’ll tell you the rest of the story.

Mike laid back in his Aunt’s arms and waited contently as his Aunt started to speak.

Once upon a time there was an old woman who had a son. They lived together in a little shack up in the mountains away from the village. Her son was a wayward boy that would not mind his Mother. He would stay out all night and would not come home even when his Mother would call for him to go to bed. His Mother would get so enraged when the boy ignored her. She would walk all the way down the mountain, searching for him all night. She would walk into our village calling out. Come- son- o mine, COME!"

All the people of the village would hear the angry woman’s cries and tried to ignore her by closing their windows and locking their doors. They did not want the woman to come to their door. Just the sight of the woman scared most of the villagers."

Why? Interrupted Mike.

Just wait, I’m not through. The woman exclaimed, as she continued to tell the story.

"The Mombie was so jealous of the other kids who lived in the village. They would obey their parents, when they were called, and would run for home.

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This would enrage the woman so much; that she would grab any delinquent kid she would find after dark and drag them up to the mountain to her shack and chain them up to teach them a lesson. She would make them do all kinds of chores and if they did not obey, she would feed them tainted cookies until they fell asleep, and then devour them. Hollering out at the moon. "COME-SON-O- MINE, COME!

"Ouuu, she ate them, then what would happen? Michael asked, listening intently.

Again, a howling scream came through the window.

COME-SON-O-MINE, COME!

Michael got wide eyed, he was