The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

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168 or two of dust, out of the doorless cabinet. Last thing I need is the kid to see one, let word slip to his mother, and a whole new rumor mill would start. Shit, it’s a bad idea to let him in here in the first place. But excuse me, it is nice for once to listen to someone who actually listens to what I say and will answer. I grab a few other little pieces of trash I left yesterday and scoot back to the house. I go in the back so I can tuck the bottles of whiskey near the refrigerator. But when I open the door, Christ, the house is alive. Where are the eggs, Robert! Grand slam by Jefferson! That’s thirty you own me now, you bastard, ha ha! No shoes on the carpet! Get them off now or I’m getting the belt! Stop crying! Is the chair more important, Andrew? Jesus, it is a madhouse. It feels like my ears are bleeding and it is beginning to pool up behind my eyes so much that I’m going blind. A quick pull won’t kill me, right? Ahh. There. The voices don’t shrink, just swirl a bit like a melting ice cube before you don’t notice it anymore. In front of me on the counter, just sticking out, was the newest letter. Well, fuck it, may as well check it out really quick. No knife this time. I tear the right side clean off and dump out a card. It’s a birthday card, looks handmade. I open it up. Happy Birthday, old man! Don’t think of 40 as being over the hill. Think of it now like you have a nice gentle stroll down to the graveyard! Just teasing, pop. See you on the 24 th . Archie is excited to see you. -Love, Stephen Fucking Christ, what is this sick joke? A nip more. I swear, you don’t even listen to me anymore. Where are you going at this time of night? Well, tell me how the hammer fell then, Andrew? Because it fell pretty far from where it was on the damn wall! I don’t know, Teri, Jesus. Get off my back! Concussions don’t just happen, you jackass! I need to get out of this damn house. This godforsaken house. The phone is ringing. I grab it out of instinct or desperation, I’m not so sure. Hello? Bruce, you sonofabitch, how are you doing? Listen, pal, you’ve got the wrong— Hahaha! Oh, man, Bruce, you are killing me. I slam the phone down. They are calling now. What on God’s earth is this? What do you want from me, huh? What do you want from me! Get a grip. You’re fine. One last snort. Shit, how much of the bottle did I just put down? I’ve got to get back to the kid. One step out the back door, and the voices stop
and I hear it. The bandsaw. Christ, somehow the kid started it. I start to run to the workshop. It is dumb. I feel it all happen. Already grimy slippers—slippers for fuck’s sake. Unsure footing from a third of a bottle of Jameson or whatever it was in maybe ten minutes. I’m right there and I knock into the back of him, just a split second, before I yank him away. He screams and I know the machine bit him. Let me see. Let me see, damn it. The kid just bawls like he is missing the whole thing, but there is just a slice in the fat of his palm, maybe a centimeter or two. All the way through, though. Lots of blood. Fuck. I know this story. Drunk injures kid. Loses everything. Has miserable life. If Teri could just see this. No, don’t dwell. Try to fix it. You can fix things, right? First thing first, I smack the red button for the emergency power off. I get the kid on his feet and walk him to the house and into the kitchen through the backdoor. I wrap a dishtowel around it tight and put it under a stream of ice-cold water. Tell him to keep it there. He doesn’t say much, just keeps sucking up the snot and wiping the tears with the hand that isn’t only red. I run through the house to the bathroom. My feet are still unsteady, but I know this floor, this hall. I bounce on molding and on corners. I jam my feet at the base of the wall to keep still. I rummage and just throw things until I find the first aid box. There are big gauze bandages. Teri made me buy them forever ago in case I ever hurt myself, but I never used them. Don’t worry, kid, this will help. I step in the kitchen. It’s empty. The water is still running, and there is a dishtowel soaking up clean water next to a dirty coffee cup. Where is he? Christ almighty. The voices. It was dead silent. Christ, is this what the kitchen used to sound like when it was quiet? The gentle gurgle of water in the pipes, the ceiling fan ticking just a bit. All the voices are gone. The birthday card that was on the counter is now gone. Never there. I check the trash, and the letter from yesterday is gone, too. I turn off the water and sit at the dinner table. I did it. I did it again. I know it is only noon or so, but I’m tired. I’m really tired. Tired like I haven’t ever really slept. I wonder how it is to sleep, quiet and sober. I think it would be nice sometime… I guess I’ll wait. 169
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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
Page 12 and 13:
10
Page 14 and 15:
12 The Gas Station Jenna Heller “
Page 16 and 17:
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
Page 28 and 29:
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
Page 38 and 39:
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
Page 44 and 45:
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
Page 54 and 55:
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
Page 62 and 63:
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
Page 100 and 101:
98 Belinda slipped off the wet coat
Page 102 and 103:
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
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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 168 and 169: 166 Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrrr… Yup. M
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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