getting used to him. At any rate, it has been a better stay than usual, except for the murder and the missing men.
Everyone sat silently for a moment, then Margaret said, “This is spooky as all get-out.”
Savannah nodded. “It’s like we’re reading fiction, but it’s true and it happened here.” She shivered. “Someone should bring in truckloads of sage and salt.”
“Yeah, maybe burn the forest down,” Colbi said. “That might make enough light to dispel any residual evil.”
“Cripes,” Iris said. “Don’t even joke about a forest fire, Colbi.” She reached for the book. “My turn to read.” After glancing at the next entry, she said, “Awww, they got a puppy.”
“Goodie, let’s hear about the puppy,” Colbi said. She pulled her fists up to her chest and frowned. “It’s not going to get hurt is it? Please say it’s not going to get hurt.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet.”
“Well, stop if it sounds like the puppy’s going to get hurt,” Colbi insisted. “I can’t sleep if something bad happens in a story before I go to bed.”
Suddenly Iris gasped. “Oh my gosh. This is today’s date!”
“Today’s date?”
“Yes, Ellen wrote it forty years ago today.” She looked around at the others. “I’ve got goose bumps.”
“Read,” Savannah said. “I want to know what happens.”
Margaret shivered. “I think we kinda already know what happens.”
“Yeah, but this is from the horse’s mouth.”
“Colbi, are you calling my mother-in-law a horse?”
“What’s wrong with horses?” Savannah asked, indignantly.
“Okay, here goes,” Iris said. “February 22, 1976: I’m so busy with our new puppy, I hardly notice Amos is with us. He pretty much ignores Buster. Well, he ignores Frank and me, too—stays in his room and carves wood with his knife. Frank wasn’t happy to find one of the dressers in there all carved up. I practically cheered Amos on because Frank was so focused on Amos today that he didn’t notice Buster’s mistake. He’s a puppy. He’s going to make mistakes. He’s a wonderful distraction for me. I think I’m ready to be a grandmother. Ha ha.
Anyway, Frank forgave Amos and the two of them went fishing this afternoon. Amos does like to fish, only we never get to eat what he catches because he carves the fish up with that knife of his. I think he catches them purely for the pleasure of mutilating them.
I love it when Frank takes Amos out for a while. I actually enjoy the mountains and the cabin when I’m alone here.
When Frank returned, he brought a few copies of the local news for me. Yes, there’s a writer up here who delights in reporting mountain news. It’s actually more of a bulletin. It’s generally quite amusing, only this time he reported on the fisherman’s death. The investigation concludes that he was killed—murdered. Somehow even more eerie is the fact that the blood they found in the boat was not his—but that of his two buddies. Now they’re searching along the riverbank for miles and miles for their bodies. People have come up from the cities to hold a vigil in hopes that they will be found alive or maybe that their bodies will be found so their families can stop living in limbo. My heart goes out to their loved ones.
The next entry is titled, ‘Disaster.’” Iris handed the book to Savannah. “Here, you read it.”
She shuddered. “I think I know what’s next.” she looked around at the others.
Colbi nodded. “Yeah—the claw hammer comes out, right?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Savannah said. She looked at the page. “Let’s see. This entry was written the next day.” She added, “Look, she did a drawing. She was a pretty good artist.” She studied the pencil drawing for a moment. “It’s Amos. She made a sketch here of Amos,” she said, passing the book around for everyone to see.
“He looks sorta like Harry Potter,” Iris said.
“Yeah,” Colbi agreed, “only older and
Everyone sat silently for a moment, then Margaret said, “This is spooky as all get-out.”
Savannah nodded. “It’s like we’re reading fiction, but it’s true and it happened here.” She shivered. “Someone should bring in truckloads of sage and salt.”
“Yeah, maybe burn the forest down,” Colbi said. “That might make enough light to dispel any residual evil.”
“Cripes,” Iris said. “Don’t even joke about a forest fire, Colbi.” She reached for the book. “My turn to read.” After glancing at the next entry, she said, “Awww, they got a puppy.”
“Goodie, let’s hear about the puppy,” Colbi said. She pulled her fists up to her chest and frowned. “It’s not going to get hurt is it? Please say it’s not going to get hurt.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t read it yet.”
“Well, stop if it sounds like the puppy’s going to get hurt,” Colbi insisted. “I can’t sleep if something bad happens in a story before I go to bed.”
Suddenly Iris gasped. “Oh my gosh. This is today’s date!”
“Today’s date?”
“Yes, Ellen wrote it forty years ago today.” She looked around at the others. “I’ve got goose bumps.”
“Read,” Savannah said. “I want to know what happens.”
Margaret shivered. “I think we kinda already know what happens.”
“Yeah, but this is from the horse’s mouth.”
“Colbi, are you calling my mother-in-law a horse?”
“What’s wrong with horses?” Savannah asked, indignantly.
“Okay, here goes,” Iris said. “February 22, 1976: I’m so busy with our new puppy, I hardly notice Amos is with us. He pretty much ignores Buster. Well, he ignores Frank and me, too—stays in his room and carves wood with his knife. Frank wasn’t happy to find one of the dressers in there all carved up. I practically cheered Amos on because Frank was so focused on Amos today that he didn’t notice Buster’s mistake. He’s a puppy. He’s going to make mistakes. He’s a wonderful distraction for me. I think I’m ready to be a grandmother. Ha ha.
Anyway, Frank forgave Amos and the two of them went fishing this afternoon. Amos does like to fish, only we never get to eat what he catches because he carves the fish up with that knife of his. I think he catches them purely for the pleasure of mutilating them.
I love it when Frank takes Amos out for a while. I actually enjoy the mountains and the cabin when I’m alone here.
When Frank returned, he brought a few copies of the local news for me. Yes, there’s a writer up here who delights in reporting mountain news. It’s actually more of a bulletin. It’s generally quite amusing, only this time he reported on the fisherman’s death. The investigation concludes that he was killed—murdered. Somehow even more eerie is the fact that the blood they found in the boat was not his—but that of his two buddies. Now they’re searching along the riverbank for miles and miles for their bodies. People have come up from the cities to hold a vigil in hopes that they will be found alive or maybe that their bodies will be found so their families can stop living in limbo. My heart goes out to their loved ones.
The next entry is titled, ‘Disaster.’” Iris handed the book to Savannah. “Here, you read it.”
She shuddered. “I think I know what’s next.” she looked around at the others.
Colbi nodded. “Yeah—the claw hammer comes out, right?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Savannah said. She looked at the page. “Let’s see. This entry was written the next day.” She added, “Look, she did a drawing. She was a pretty good artist.” She studied the pencil drawing for a moment. “It’s Amos. She made a sketch here of Amos,” she said, passing the book around for everyone to see.
“He looks sorta like Harry Potter,” Iris said.
“Yeah,” Colbi agreed, “only older and
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