The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

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166 Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrrr… Yup. Morning. I pour coffee and my head hurts for some reason, so only a little splash of the good stuff. I’ll live without a morning buzz. I go out to the lawn and my chair, but it is a lot less dewy out. Finally starting to warm up a bit earlier. Miss Lucille drives up again, right on time. I’m not saying anything to her today. She can do her job in peace, let me watch the town wake up like I want to. The sky is still just a touch pink like someone spilled a paint can and it is slowly draining off. Fulton Street, the road that led all the way up this hill, isn’t a popular one. There are maybe seven other houses on this end, if my memory is right, but who knows. Most of them looked just like mine. One story. Asymmetrical, if not a little cockeyed. Shit, some of them probably shared a few trees. It was funny, because back in the day when Teri and me would talk to folks and have a meal or play cards or dominoes, crack a few beers, it was like I was at a home away from home. Need the bathroom? Already know where it is, thanks. We stopped going out a little while after Margaret was born. We both got busy. All between the houses, trees marked the property lines. Good trees, too. Mostly elm, but a few pine and oak here and there. Back when I was churning out more work, I’d curse and yell. Damn it, Teri, just one! You know the profit we could make from just one of those bastards? But she’d remind me that there were rules, what the plots said was whose, the red tape to do anything on the property lines. Damn shame. I hadn’t even noticed whenever it was that Miss Lucille pulled up and then drove away. Might as well grab the mail before I forget it ever came. It is more of the same. Tissue thin sheet after sheet of pizza coupons, advertisements for laundromats, and how I can save on my telephone bill by switching now. All right into the trash. But my hand stops, feeling something a bit stiff in the pile. Another letter? Clean cut, white envelope. Sealed perfectly. No return address. Not a word of who it is to. EEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeetch! I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard the tires screech on the pavement. I turned around, and there is the kid’s smug face again. We stare at each other for a while, like a Western. What is this kid thinking? So why do you live in a haunted house? Godda—… I told you, the place isn’t haunted, all right. Jeez, whatever, mister. Don’t have to be so mean. Listen, sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m just under a bit of stress for the moment. The last few months, too, since the voices got worse and worse. I guess since everyone else stopped talking to me, they decided to take up the space. Is that why your slippers are dirty? What?
I look down and he is right. I’m a damn slob. Oh, that is some dust from the shop. I point back to the pole barn. That’s where I do my work. I thought you were retired. From professional work, sure. But you gotta keep busy somehow, right? Like how even though the school isn’t playing, you practice baseball with all your friends, I’m sure? I guess. Can I see it? What, the workshop? Why? I don’t have anything to do today. My mom and dad are at work. It is better than biking all over town to bother people, I guess. Huh. Sure, kid. Let me go grab the key. The kid drops the bike where it stands and walks after me, feet flopping in tennis shoes that sound just a little too big for him. I toss the mail in the house, humming just so I don’t hear who or whatever is making a fuss in their now. I grab the keys and off we go down the little dirt path. You aren’t going to murder me back here, are you? You asked to come back here. I unlock the door, pry it open, and the look on this kid’s face is like I just tore open the backdoor to the toy store. The fluorescent lights popped on, one after another, lighting up all the tools, material, and machines that he had never even known about. Gave me a kick to see his jaw practically break, that’s for sure. Pretty neat, huh? This is awesome…do you think that I could do this? You want to? Really? Yeah. It looks awesome. When can I saw something apart? Heheh, no, you’re going to have to wait a second. I walk over to the board, the one where more than three dozen tools hang freely for whatever I need. I grab one and turn to the kid. This is all you need. It all starts here. What is it? A chisel. What? How is this going to teach me how to use those things? This is each of those big machines. The chisel is the beginning of all tools, just a chunk of metal on a handle. You see that over there, the plane? It’s just a chisel with a special handle. A hacksaw is just a bunch of little chisels in a row. Everything in here is a chisel. Here, take a look, get used to it, and mess around with…this! Just use this chunk of wood for a bit. Why? What are you going to do? Well, one of the most important rules of carpentry is a clean workspace. I’m going to move some stuff into the house. Then maybe we can get you building something. While his back is turned, I grab the two leftover bottles, still covered with a decade 167
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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
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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
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110 Jason and his fling heard the d
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112 was divided into fifteen minute
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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 162 and 163: 160 Listening Neal Steichen Oh, Chr
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 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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