The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

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160 Listening Neal Steichen Oh, Christ, that’s good. Dry, a bit of vanilla. Smoke, charred American oak, bitter. Heavy, lots of alcohol. Port barrels, too? Between the teeth, too, let it mellow and relax. Teri hated it when I drank. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, always crying out from the kitchen, You’re just killing yourself, you know. Fuck me for wanting a drink after spending a day carving a piece of art out of a tree. Besides, she couldn’t tell the difference between a bourbon or a scotch if there were a little flag sticking up out of it. What do you mean we don’t have any eggs? How can you expect me to make anything without eggs? More kitchen noise. It is resting in my cheeks, my throat now. My eyes refocus. She couldn’t appreciate it anyway. There was a skill to it, the palate. That’s why I always had a glass or three of the good stuff before rolling over to plastic bottles and aluminum caps. There was joy to it. Jefferson ought to steal third with a lead like that. Besides, Davis is wearing blinders so big he can’t see the dugout. Was that Dan? Or was it Dave, right next to me on the couch. The whiskey would drown out the voices for a while, at least, until I hit the limit and just woke up again, hearing them louder and clearer. Goddamnit, how many times do I have to ask? Take off your shoes before you walk on the carpet! Everywhere, all the time, filling in the spaces. They’d roll in from the kitchen when I was in the bathroom. They’d bounce in the hallway when I was pouring coffee. They’d echo into where Margaret used to sleep. God, if she hated when Teri and I would fight,
I can’t imagine what she’d do now. Honey, don’t you want to open the big present? There, right behind the tree. Are you going to go to the corner and get the eggs or not? Christ, am I talking to the wall or what? Another sip and another step into dull static, my ass falling deeper into the rat orange recliner, tufts of brown and green speckling it, smelling like back sweat. I can see the light reflect in my drink, a pale globe hanging on a chain and wire, a stain-glass shade that I think I bought from an estate sale twenty-odd years ago, alternating red and white and green and clear-ish. Do I look like I’m made of money, Jennifer? In the main bedroom. No, of course I’m not. That’s why I built half the stuff in this house. Including that kitchen table we barely ever used. It was gorgeous, rough finish, lightly stained for a more natural look. All the chairs matched except for Margaret’s highchair. That I put together with scraps, but in a nice way. Like a mosaic. The first time she sat in it, it was her birthday. Don’t you like it, sweetie? She flipped the cake and smeared icing all in the dovetails. I told Teri a hundred times, I didn’t mean to yell. Come on, that was a fair ball! What the hell, ump? I need more whiskey. They were getting worse, too. It never used to bother me. I still worked for a bit after Teri died and Margaret moved, but once I stopped going into the shop, they were always here. Then Margaret stopped answering my calls. I can’t make a cake without eggs, so you either have to get off your ass and get some or there won’t be one. I called Teri’s sister, Debra, but she wouldn’t say what. Margaret never seemed to be available at work. And that wasn’t it, either. Jerry started serving my watered-down drinks, no matter what the bastard said. The grocery kid would give me the stink eye like I was stuffing apples and lunch meat in my pockets. I’d wave at people, try to say hi or something, and it was like I killed their best friend. Hell, I tried to get a dog—not even a good one, one of those mutts at the kennel that were a week away from getting the ax—and the woman at the desk, Tammy, told me I was fucking unfit. The fuck does that mean? Splash of water, two glugs of…okay, fine, five glugs of Famous Grouse. No ice today. Heh, my old man always used to say Ice is for hockey and for women. Don’t know if I ever quite agreed. The voices mix up more, like they got caught in a blender. A little girl is shaming her dolly for spilling tea on her little dress. A father is on the phone yelling at a teacher. A woman is crying, but trying to keep quiet about it. Halfway through this drink, and all I can really distinguish are the perennials. She needs eggs. The carpet is dirty. He’s mad. She isn’t happy. 161
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The Haunted Traveler December2017 E
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Table of Contents Highland Fling Ma
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The Haunted Traveler A Roaming Anth
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8
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10
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12 The Gas Station Jenna Heller “
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14 “It just amazes me that we’r
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16 At the top of the short staircas
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18 up her face and then lowered it
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20 There was a list of prohibited i
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22 “The girls are here, too,” M
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24 THE BONES Stephanie Bucklin “T
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26 “Then?” “Survival.” The
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28 “Lady Mordemag—” Darya sta
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30 could hear Lady Mordemag’s oil
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32 he had to curb his normal method
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34 paused again, listening and wait
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36 complete as it had at the top of
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38 It Is the Ache that Dwells Withi
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40 “Mary? Come on, please open th
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42 Leah Oates A BOLT FROM THE BLUE
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44 there people were always around
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46 before the storm hits. Once you
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48 “Car spell nargelette,” Ben
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50 It’s poison, the witch said. B
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52 “Sir, if you don’t come peac
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54 was all he had seen on the day
Page 58 and 59:
56 “So…Ax, is it?” Scott aske
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58 you came all the way from out of
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60 of thought; a bright flash, foll
Page 64 and 65:
62 It took a few minutes of brisk w
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64 games.” James punched the wall
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66 conjured of kicking it in the fa
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68 mom, but she wouldn’t answer.
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70 with a dull thump-thump-thump. J
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72 Jim Zola The Blind Piano Player
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74 Jim Zola
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76 across their fur and between the
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78 Cadie’s Missing Mike Oberly Th
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80 “Rascal is as rascal is,” th
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82 The Flood Anna Kaye-Rogers The r
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84 the girls. “She’s your dog,
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86 Rainy days are the worst. As she
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88 Jubydream turtle: falls in love,
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90 The Moon Alexandria Cope Margare
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92 early. She packed her things in
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94 some ninja turtle action. Noah s
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96 That’s why even though she was
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98 Belinda slipped off the wet coat
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100 “I liked Pretty Pretty Prince
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102 The black-eyed doll approached
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104 STALKED ON A WINTER’S NIGHT B
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106 is, the playground is dangerous
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108 exposed and the floors were lin
Page 112 and 113: 110 Jason and his fling heard the d
Page 114 and 115: 112 was divided into fifteen minute
Page 116 and 117: 114 Essentially, her home in Belle
Page 118 and 119: 116 Samantha had inherited the chai
Page 120 and 121: 118 For Death’s Amusement Rollin
Page 122 and 123: 120 wore white gloves on its enormo
Page 124 and 125: 122 process of extracting another f
Page 126 and 127: 124 Running Amber Cook They were fo
Page 128 and 129: 126 Witchery Kerry E.B. Black Tia i
Page 130 and 131: 128 Scream Megan Whiting It was a s
Page 132 and 133: 130 terrifying ease, then vanished
Page 134 and 135: 132 Send that thought packing, too.
Page 136 and 137: 134 Tyler switched on the radio. An
Page 138 and 139: 136 veins. Then it stopped. She was
Page 140 and 141: 138 “She showed up at that church
Page 142 and 143: 140 Bear Trap Feivel Wolff He saw t
Page 144 and 145: 142 “I made you dinner, did I not
Page 146 and 147: 144 the windshield. A bit longer an
Page 148 and 149: 146 Now he could make out the tune.
Page 150 and 151: 148 “Tell your momma! Tell her I
Page 152 and 153: 150 Black Swan On the Water Side Co
Page 154 and 155: 152 They looked like Latinas, but I
Page 156 and 157: 154 BROTHERLY LOVE Diane Arrelle Na
Page 158 and 159: 156 Terror carrying her beyond hyst
Page 160 and 161: 158 wonder you’re imagining thing
Page 164 and 165: 162 I drop the mostly empty glass o
Page 166 and 167: 164 Brenda, I swear to God, one of
Page 168 and 169: 166 Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrrr… Yup. M
Page 170 and 171: 168 or two of dust, out of the door
Page 172 and 173: 170 Biographies T. Thomas Abernathy
Page 174 and 175: 172 Brett Grinnell lives and works
Page 176 and 177: 174 Real Art Ways, Tomasulo Gallery
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The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

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