|
|
 |
LIST
OF STORIES:
1) The Golden Arm (jump)
2) The Vanishing Hitchhiker (eerie)
3) The Mummy (funny, jump)
4) The Vampire in the Taxi (jump)
5) A Tall Tale (tall tale)
6) The Little Ghost (funny)
7) The Viper (funny; surprise ending)
8) The Book of Death (eerie, poignant, sad)
9) Black Bubble Gum (funny, scary)
10) The Return of Brigit O'Hara (eerie, ghost,
surprise ending)
11) The Blood-Covered Vampire aka The Bloody Vampire (funny
joke)
12) Ghost Toasties (not too scary poem)
13) The Graveyard Song (jump,
participation)
14) The Ghost of Jean Lafitte (eerie, ghost, jump)
15) Dead Men Working in a Cane Field (eerie, zombies, can be gruesome)
16) The Ghost With One Black Eye (funny, ghost)
17) A West Virginia Ghost Story (eerie, ghost)
18) Mr. Fox (scary, gory, some jumps)
19) I, Lilith (occult, child-killer, feminist)
20) The Raconteur's Revenge (eerie, unjust hanging, ghost, revenge)
21)
The Werewolf (eerie, shape-changing, baby killing)
22) Witches'Alphabet Soup (funny, gross, witches, participation)
23) The Gunniwolf (funny, rhythmical, song, a little scary, for younger kids)
24) My Darling Frankenstein (song parody, funny, participation)
25) The Ghost Bride (eerie, ghost saves life, haunting)
26) Tillie (eerie, suspense building, jump)
27) Cough Drops Stop Coffin (shaggy dog)
28) The Hobyahs (funny, scary)
29) Demon Goat (eerie, scary/funny, song parody)
30) The Whistling Tsonaquas (scary)
31) Dingle Dangle Scarecrow (song, funny, participation)
32) A Rap Story (spooky, surprise funny ending)
33) Shortest Scary Stories in the World (funny)
34) It was a Dark, Dark Night (jump)
35) Captain, Tell Us a Story (spooky, scary, tell in the dark)
36) The Hopping Pumpkin (funny, surprise ending, for all ages)
37) The Initiation (a jump tale, not for tiny tots)
38) The Haunted Treasure (scary, suspense building, surprise ending, all ages)
39) Dracula is Coming to Town (song parody, funny, all ages)
40) Halloween, Oh Halloween (song parody, funny, all ages)
41) Jack-O, the Red-Nosed Pumpkin (song parody, funny, all ages)
42) Pumpkin Bells (song parody, funny, all ages)
43) Shivery Yells (song parody, funny, all ages)
44) This Old Ghost (song parody, funny, all ages)
45) We Three Ghouls (song parody, funny, all ages)
46) The 13 Days of Halloween (song parody, funny, all ages)
47) There's a Monster in My House! (a scripted puppet show, funny, for younger kids)
48) The Ghost Who Didn't Want to be a Ghost (funny, all ages)
49) The Green Ribbon (suspense building, surprise ending, older kids)
50) The Graveyard Voice (funny, all ages)
51) The Skeleton Woman (scary, suspense, older kids and adults)
52) The Cow That Ate the Piper (gory, tricky, jump ending)
53) Mary Culhaine and the Dead Man (scary, narrow escape, dead to life)
54) The Dancing Skeleton (ghost, haunting, funny, gory, gross)
55) The Boy Who Sought Fear (eerie, surprise ending)
56) Thor Retrieves His Hammer or Thor as a Bride (giants, Norse underworld)
57) The Tinker and the Ghost (ghost, haunting, gross, gory, funny)
58) Rub-a-Dub-Dub (from the nursery rhyme, funny, for younger kids)
59) Jack O'Happy (pumpkin cookies, paper cutting/tearing, funny, for younger kids)
60) A House for Morty Mouse (flannel board, fun, for younger kids)
61) One and Only Christmas Ghost (funny, poignant, for younger kids)
62) Esteban and the Ghost (another version of #57; ghost, gross, gory, funny)
63) The Vanishing Pumpkin (funny, unpredictable)
64) La Llorona (revenge, murder of children, grief, atonement)
65) Too Much Noise on Halloween Night (funny witch, for younger kids)
66) The Tiger Witch (from Taiwan, witch, gory, scary, funny, adjustable)
67) Pretty Maid Ibronka (from Hungary, scary, gory, devil, for older kids)
68) The Monkey's Paw (adult audience, scary, supernatural wishes)
69) White Cap (ghost, eerie, suspense, surprise ending)
70)
The Old Woman in a Pumpkin Shell (from Iran, young kids, participation)
71) The Conjure Wives (elementary school, short, optional participation, spooky/scary)
72) The Vampire Skeleton (middle school and older, scary/rising from the dead)
73) The Piasa (elementary and above; scary creature, legend)
74) Wicked John and the Devil (elementary – adult/ 20-25 minutes/ devils)
75) Loup Garou and the Shawl (wild animals, scary, eerie, older kids and adults)
76) Going on a Monster Hunt (young kids, participation, funny, a little scary maybe)
77) Soup Bone (old woman, skeleton, funny, surprise ending, for young kids)
78) The Witches' Song (funny, witches save the day)
79)
Five Little Pumpkins (participation, preschool with finger plays, lively)
80) Ruby Red Lips (funny, semi-scary, jump story)
81) T&S (draw and tell story, exciting, funny, surprise (hopefully) ending)
82) Bring Me a Light (ghost, spooky, suspenseful, happy surprise ending)
83) Meg Wesson (evil witch, scary, eerie, supernatural, true story)
84) A Horrible Thing (participation, tandem telling, a little scary, more fun and funny)
85) A True Ghost Story (ghost, spooky, eerie, eyewitness account)
86) If You're a Ghost and You Know It (4 songs, 2 fingerplays, funny, younger kids)
87) El Cadejo (from Costa Rica, lazy youth, father's curse, turns into howling dog)
88) La Cegua (from Costa Rica, seductress of unwary men, shape shifting, fatal kiss)
89) The Oxless Ox Cart (from Costa Rica,
eerie, theft, crime does not pay)
90) Ghost Dog at the Biltmore (eerie, scary, ghost dog leads to skeleton)
91) Loftus Hall (ghost, unexplained physical disturbances, devil appears as human)
92) The Pumpkin Giant (scary, funny and, perhaps, serious all at the same time)
93) Tailypo aka Tail Een Po (scary, builds suspense, for older kids, could be jump tale)
94) Another Look at Tailypo (an alternative version of the story)
95) The Legend of the Lady and the Ring (scary, ghost, live burial, not for tiny tots)
96) The Sticky Man (scary, young boy and "invisible friend," eerie)
97) The Strange Visitor (jump story, adaptable for various age groups)
98) Grim, King of the Ghosts (ballad, grisly, brave woman outwits King of Ghosts)
99) The Buried Moon (English fairy tale, eerie, scary, full of Evil Things, older kids)
100) Teig O'Kane and the Corpse (corpse, burying a corpse, could be funny to terrifying)
101) Wait Until Martin Comes (cats, waiting for a monster, funny, could be a jump)
102) Haunted Harp (Twa Sisters) (haunted, sad, spooky, revenge, justice)
103) Scary Urban Legends (scary; added 11/1/04)
104) Room for One More (eerie; premonition; scary) (added 11/16/04)
105) Room for One More (alternate version) (added 11/16/04)
1) THE GOLDEN ARM
[Mark Twain started most of his programs off with this
story . . .He even wrote a monograph called "How to tell a Story" and used this story as the model. I always figure if it's good enough for Mark
Twain . . . It's good enough for me! It is a traditional jump story that can be played to the hilt and everyone still loves it. From English Folk and Fairy Tales, by Joseph Jacobs. Full text may be found at:
http://www.rickwalton.com/folktale/jacoba24.htm
In dialect by Mark Twain:
http://www.folktale.net/golden_arm.html
Bones: John and Mary were sitting on the front
porch of the old country cabin . . . John was just rockin' and smokin his pipe
and Mary . . . She was stroking her Arm . . . Not just any arm, but an arm made
of solid GOLD! You see, Mary had had a terrible accident out in the mining country
where she was born and had lost her arm. He dad had felt so bad about her losing
that arm that he had made her an arm of Solid GOLD . . . That arm was her pride
and joy and she would sit for hours stroking that arm . . . "John, You
gotta promise me that when I die . . . You're going to bury me with my golden
arm!" "Well, all right, don't see any reason why not . . . "
Well, as fate would have it, and fate always DOES have it in stories like this,
Mary did die! John had her laid out in the front room and he was looking down
into that plain pine coffin and he saw that Golden Arm, a gleamin and a shinin!
John thought: "Huh . . . That Golden Arm is not going to do HER no good.
Not where SHE's going. Hell, it might even melt!" And he took that golden
arm and put it behind the door and took Mary out to the burying place.
Later that day, John was out on that front porch again just a rockin and a smokin
his pipe . . . when he saw something different . . . It was a cloud . . . Oh,
he had seen clouds before, but this one was different . . . It was gray and
purple and yellow and ugly, and it was coming up the draw, and John could hear
the wind blowing in that cloud and he thought he heard something in that wind
. . . WHO'S. . . GOT. . . MY. . . GOLDEN. . . ARM. . .
"NOOOO, it couldn't be! I put Mary in the ground myself! and EVERYBODY
knows . . there's no such thing as GHOSTS!" But he kept watching that cloud
and it got closer and it was gray and purple and yellow and ugly, and the wind
was louder now and he heard it and there was NO mistaking . . .WHO'S. . . GOT.
. . MY. . . GOLDEN. . . ARM. . .
John ran inside the little cabin, he slammed the door, threw the bolt and pulled
in the latch string . . . And waited . . . The wind began to whip and turn all
around the little cabin and suddenly it was completely still. That's when he
heard it. From outside that door . . . WHO'S. . . GOT. . . MY. . . GOLDEN. .
. ARM. . .There was only one way out of that little cabin, and it was right
past WHATEVER was out there. John grabbed the golden arm and went into the little
bedroom and locked the door . . . Then, from that locked and bolted door . .
. Screeeeeeeeeeeech . . . The door was open, and whatever was outside . . .
was NOW . . . INSIDE!
John began looking for somewhere to hide . . . The little closet, of course,
the perfect spot, nothing would find him there . . . He went into the closet
and stood in the darkness . . . Waiting . . . Then it came, from inside that
locked bedroom…WHO'S. . . GOT. . . MY. . . GOLDEN. . . ARM…
There was nowhere left to RUN . . . Nowhere left to HIDE . . . He just stood
in the darkness . . . Clutching that golden arm to his chest. . . AND WAITED
. . . He couldn't see anything in the darkness . . . He didn't hear anything
at all . . . HE FELT IT! THE COLD, CLAMMY FEELING OF DEATH, in the closet with
him . . . and for the last time, he heard it . . . WHO'S. . . GOT. . . MY. .
. YOU. . .YOU'VE GOT MY GOLDEN ARM!
They found John the next morning . . . The Doctor said that after Mary's tragic
death, John must have died of a broken heart . . . But they never found . .
. the GOLDEN . . . ARM. . . .
•••••
Contributed by
Steve Otto
Stories by Steve
i-tell@juno.com
http://www.storynet.org/tellers/SteveOtto.htm
Back to top of page
2) THE VANISHING HITCHHIKER
[Slightly eerie, not for under 10 maybe. I often introduce with a warning to be careful driving
and never pick up strangers . . . but then who could leave a child out all alone
on such a cold night? When I first see the child. it's one of those spooky,
shivery moments. I had a boy ask if it really happened, and I told him that
sometimes I wasn't sure afterwards myself. He shook his head and said, "Maybe
you just dreamed it."
I have seen and heard many versions of this story, including
on a Jackie Torrence tape and in a Hawaiian book of Chicken
Skin stories. Often the hitchhiker is a young woman, picked up by young
men on the way to or from a dance. Many variations are at:
http://thefolklorist.com/horror/hitchhiker.htm#The%20Vanishing%20Hitchhiker%20#
I tell it in the first person, following advice from Chuck Larkin, and
use the following variation:]
Bones: Driving alone on a dark night, unfamiliar
streets because of a wrong turn. I see a young girl alongside the road, all
alone. I stop and try to find out what she's doing there . . . finally put her
in my car. She is cold, so I wrap her in my jacket (that was my mom's). She
gives her name, Sarah, and points the way as I drive. I stop in front of an
old house with overgrown lawn, go around to help her out, but she is gone. I
go to the door, to make sure she got in okay. No one answers, but as I'm turning
to leave, the door creaks open, and I tell the elderly woman that I just wanted
to make sure Sarah was safe. She cries and runs inside. I reach to close the
door she has left open, and an elderly man comes out and says he will explain.
We go around back, where there is a family grave plot, neatly fenced in. His
flashlight shows me a marker, engraved Our Sarah . . . . (date of death 20 or more years ago). He tells me she was killed in an accident coming home from
a party and says, "On the anniversary of her death, some nice person always
tries to bring Sarah back home, and we appreciate it." He asks if I'm missing
anything, and I tell him just my jacket, but it's okay. His flashlight beam
lowers and there is my jacket, neatly folded on the grave. "We raised her
right," he says. "She always returns whatever she has borrowed."
•••••
Contributed by
Mary Garrett
mgarrett@mail.win.org
http://www.motell.org/directory.htm
Back to top of page
3) THE MUMMY
[Funny, seven years old and up—another story I've
heard everywhere. Funny ending, but perhaps a jump as well.]
Bones: I set my version in the St. Louis Art Museum,
since we have two mummies, and I ask how many of the children have seen them.
I say the mummy is my favorite exhibit. I visit it all the time, but one time
the room was closed. I was so disappointed that my favorite guard let me in
and showed me the work they were doing to preserve the treasured mummy. He was
called away but let me stay if I promised not to touch anything. Then I noticed
a piece of the wrapping coming loose, so I reached over to tuck it back in place.
The mummy sat up and reached toward me. I backed away, but he stood up and followed.
(Then a series of moves, out the door, down the hall . . . I always end up crouched
under the big staircase, a great place to hide), but the mummy followed me to
each place. There under the staircase, the mummy approached slowly, slowly (build
suspense), reached out toward me, touched my arm, and said, "Tag, you're
it!"
•••••
Contributed by
Mary Garrett
mgarrett@mail.win.org
http://www.motell.org/directory.htm
Back to top of page
4) THE VAMPIRE IN THE TAXI
[This story was told to me by Bernd, a participant on a
teacher-training course in Halle, Germany. I wrote out the skeletons and it
is definitely NOT copyright material. It is suitable for kids as well as adults.
NOTE ON TELLING: The jump
story is a folk genre especially popular with children. Bernd was very quiet
as he came to the end of the story, showing how his emotions slowly moved from
unease to fear to utter terror as he asked the final question. He came close
to the woman sitting next to him and then sprang at her neck as the vampire
yelled "YES." And she really DID jump.]
Bones: I was driving a taxi. It was late, about
to go home, but was hailed by a man in a dark street.
Dark coat, hat pulled low over eyes.
Just said: "North Cemetery."
Drove him there in silence.
When he got out he told me to wait, "And if you don't wait, you'll be sorry."
Well, didn't feel very comfortable, but wanted the money, so waited.
After a while he came back, seemed to be wiping something from his hands.
Just said: "South Cemetery."
Same happened again.
Feeling even more uncomfortable, but waited.
He returned, brushing something from his clothes.
Just said: "East Cemetery."
Same.
Returned, wiping his mouth.
Just said: "West Cemetery."
Although very frightened, determined to get my money - and to see what he was
doing.
Followed him into dark cemetery.
He went to fresh grave, used hands to dig down to coffin.
Open lid, bent over corpse.
So terrified I couldn't move in darkness.
He came out of grave, came up to me.
I managed to stutter, "Are you a vampire?"
"YES!"
•••••
Contributed by
Richard Martin, Germany
http://www.tellatale.eu
http://www.tellatale.eu/tales/vampire_taxi.htm
Back to top of page
5) A TALL TALE
[This story was told to me by Bernd,
a participant on a teacher-training course in Halle, Germany. It is definitely
NOT copyright material. It is suitable for kids as well as adults.
NOTE ON TELLING: As a tall tale should be told,
Bernd began this as a personal anecdote about himself, adding a few details
so that we assumed this really was something which had happened to him. As the
tension then built up, we were so carried along by the tale that the scatalogical
punch-line (with Bernd pointing very seriously to his anus) got a big laugh
of delight as we realised how he had fooled us.]
Bones: "Summer camp, I was one of two inexperienced
group leaders.
A night walk in forest with children - of course we got lost.
Children exhausted, walked by the same meadow for third time, children wanted
to rest.
All children fell asleep.
I said: Kids will sleep for hours, may as well leave them and see if we can
find a way out of forest.
Saw light in distance, was a cottage with a high wooden fence around it.
Looked through window, saw old woman.
Can you tell us way out?
Yes, but first come in, eat and drink something – you look tired.
She opened the gate for us. In the house everything smelled so good, kids would
still be asleep, so in we went.
Old woman disappeared into kitchen to get food and drink.
Was away a long time. I went to investigate – saw her at back of house
sharpening a knife on whetstone:
At last someone has come. At last someone has come.
We crept out of front door as quietly as we could. But now the gate was locked.
I helped my friend over the fence.
But old woman heard us.
Came running with knife.
My friend was on top of fence, pulling me up.
But old woman coming closer, screaming, waving knife.
My friend couldn’t pull me up fast enough – old woman came just as
I was still on the fence – she stabbed me with knife right in the middle
of my backside.
And from that day on, I've always had this hole in my bum!"
•••••
Contributed by
Richard Martin, Germany
http://www.tellatale.eu
http://www.tellatale.eu/tales/tall_tale.htm
Back to top of page
6) THE LITTLE GHOST
[1st grade level and below. You can expand this with any
foods you want and the little kids just "eat it up."]
Bones: Little Ghost gets lonely at night
and goes to kitchen to get something to eat.
Looks in the fridge and doesn't see much but eats bowl of Blueberries.
Floating back to bed, passes full length mirror in hall . . . AAAAAAAGH.
There is a BLUE ghost in the mirror. Runs to mommy ghost and she screams"Go
Away BLUE ghost, you're not MY little ghost . . . He has a clean pressed white sheet!"
Little Ghost is sooooo sad and feels he has to go back to the kitchen. Looks
in the fridge and sees carrots. He eats a whole package of carrots and feels much better.
Floating back to bed, passes full length mirror in hall . . . AAAAAAAGH
There is a ORANGE ghost in the mirror. Runs to mommy ghost and she screams "Go
Away ORANGE ghost, you're not MY little ghost . . . He has a clean pressed white sheet!"
Little Ghost is sooooo sad and feels he has to go back to the kitchen. Looks
in the fridge and sees TOMATO JUICE.
He drinks the whole can and feels much better.
Floating back to bed, passes full length mirror in hall . . . AAAAAAAGH
There is a RED ghost in the mirror. Runs to mommy ghost and she screams "Go
Away RED ghost, you're not MY little ghost . . . He has a clean pressed white
sheet!"
Little Ghost is really depressed and feels he has to go back to the kitchen.
Looks in the fridge and sees nothing left but a bottle of MILK. He drinks the
whole can and feels much better. Floating back to bed, passes full length mirror in hall He hardly knows what
to do . . . he doesn't want to look in the mirror but finally he LOOKS! . .
. AND . . .There HE is! A little white ghost in the mirror. Runs to mommy ghost
and she screams " OH THANK GOODNESS YOUR ARE HERE little ghost . . . There
have been three other little ghosts coming in here all night, but I know YOU
are MY little ghost," and little ghost got to spend the rest of the night
with mommy ghost.
•••••
Contributed by
Steve Otto
Stories by Steve
i-tell@juno.com
http://www.storynet.org/tellers/SteveOtto.htm
Back to top of page
7) THE VIPER
[Funny, unexpected ending; suitable for all ages.]
Bones: She had just moved away from home and her
parents were worried about her being alone in the big city. She had graduated
from college and "knew everything" so she said "Don't worry Mom
and Dad . . .as soon as I get a phone, I'll call!" She got a GREAT new
apartment on the third floor and immediately called the phone company to start
service. It wasn't over ten minutes later when the phone rang . . ."What
great service. It's already started my phone . . ." But when she answered,
came a mysterious voice "I . . . am the Viper . . . your turn is TODAY!
. . ." She quickly hung up and couldn't believe what she had gotten herself
into. She picked up the phone again to call for help . . . but NO dial tone.
She quickly locked all the doors and went to the window to see if she could
contact anyone below but the streets were empty. Just then the phone rang again.
She picked it up and heard "I . . . am the Viper . . . I am on the first
floor, I will be at your place soon! . . ." She screamed and tried to find
something to protect herself with. She ran to the window again and this time
an old man was standing on the street . . . "Call the police! I'm on the
third floor and someone is trying to kill me!" Just then the phone rang
again . . . "I . . . am the Viper . . . and I am on the second floor. .
. YOU are NEXT! . . ." She was completely panicked. She just curled up
in the corner and cried. . . Then came the banging on her door . . . What should
she do? Was it the police that the old man had summoned OR . . . Was it the
VIPER? . . . She figured that she had to find out. She rushed to the door, undid
all the locks and opened the door . . . There stood a straggly dressed man with
a strange tool in his hand! He looked at her with a snaggle-toothed grin and
said "I . . . AM . .. THE VIPER! . . . I am here to VASH AND VIPE YOUR
VINDOWS . . ."
•••••
Contributed by
Steve Otto
Stories by Steve
i-tell@juno.com
http://www.storynet.org/tellers/SteveOtto.htm
Back to top of page
8) THE BOOK OF DEATH
[Eerie, poignant, sad. Not suitable for tiny tots.]
Bones: 14-year-old Laura Wilson loved BOOKS! She read all the time and
was thrilled when she got the summer job at the library where she could be around
books all the time. The only downside of the joy was Old Mrs. Martin, the librarian.
She was old fashioned and MEAN. She spelled out everything for Laura to do and
NOT do. Among the NOT to do's was "Do not under any circumstance go into
the room downstairs marked NO ADMITTANCE!"
Laura was doing fine and had even gotten some compliments from Mrs Martin when
one night, just before closing, she was instructed to go downstairs and make
sure the basement door was locked. As she was returning, she noticed THE DOOR,
the one marked NO ADMITTANCE! was standing partially open. Being a teenager,
she peeked inside. There was nothing special in the room. Just one table with
a dusty book lying open on it. No one was around so she went inside and began
to look at the book . . . It was full of names . . . In an ancient script .
. . Names of people from town who were DEAD! She looked at the last entry and
she saw that it was Mr. Johnston, the principal of her school! Mr. Johnston
had gone home early that day but was certainly alive . . . at least at 4:00
o'clock . . . she read the words . . Bernard Johnston, Principal, Oakwood Middle
School, . . . Heart Attack! Laura couldn't believe what she saw . . . The names
of everyone in town who had died and from what cause! Just then as if by magic,
words began to appear on the page. The name of someone ELSE. Laura turned and
rushed toward the door, but THERE . . .STOOD MRS MARTIN . . . "I TOLD YOU
NEVER TO GO IN THIS ROOM . . . GET OUT AND NEVER COME BACK . . . YOU ARE FIRED!
Laura ran crying from the room. She went home and went to bed. She didn't even
go to supper, telling her mother she didn't feel well. About eight o'clock she
could take it no longer . . . she slipped out the window and started through
the rain toward the library. She knew from work that the window at the back
of the building could not be locked and SHE HAD TO FIND OUT WHAT WAS HAPPENING!
She silently slipped into the basement and with her flashlight made her way
to THE ROOM .. . She went inside and opened the book. There were names of people she knew. Her grandmother and grandfather
. Then the letters in the book began to appear again in that ancient script
. . . L A U R A W I L S O N . . . ACCIDENT! Laura screamed like she had never
screamed before! She ran from the room and out the window and headed for home
. . .
Police patrolman Josh Turner was responding to the call . . . The silent alarm
at the Library had been tripped again . . "Probably some teenagers, but this time I'm going to catch them and teach
them a lesson" he thought . . . He turned into the parking lot of the library
going faster that usual. The lighting flashed and he caught sight of the person
starting across the lot. On the wet pavement he could not stop and heard the
terrible thump of the body as the patrol car hit it, and he watched it fly over
the top. He stopped the car and rushed to the limp body . . . as he showed his
light, he immediately recognized Laura Wilson . . . This was terrible . . .
He couldn't believe what he had done . . . Laura was the daughter of his best
friend . . . And she was DEAD . . . Patrolman Turner went back to the car and
radioed for an ambulance which he knew was NOT needed . . . His guilt was overwhelming
and as he slumped in the seat of the car he felt he could not face his friend.
. . His hand dropped to his side, by the holster that contained his service
revolver . . He took it from the holster, never knowing that inside the library
in a little room marked "NO ADMITTANCE," an ancient script began to
write . . . Josh Taylor . . . Suicide. . .
•••••
Contributed by
Steve Otto
Stories by Steve
i-tell@juno.com
http://www.storynet.org/tellers/SteveOtto.htm
Back to top of page
9) BLACK BUBBLE GUM
[Bones compiled by Mary Garrett, adapted from the award-winning version by Cynthia Changaris at CChangaris@aol.com (502-451-7144), who first heard it told by Francis Caffrey, whose original story was inspired by The Affair at 7 Rue de M. by John Steinbeck. Mary prefers to tell it in the first person. Mary's niece especially loves it when Mary blames the mystery on her own "teasing brother"—the niece's dad.]
Bones: Halloween night, trick-or-treating with
friends and no adults! (Describe costumes and excitement.)
Rules: stay together, only go to houses you know, and don't eat anything until
Mom and Dad check it out.
We went on all the streets we knew, and then decided it was okay to go on the
streets that branched off from the ones we knew— stretching rules. We saw
a big, old, scary-looking house, overgrown lawn, sagging porch steps, iron fence.
My friends dared me to go to door. (I didn't know then that you don't have to
take a dare).
Up the stairs (creak), knocked with old-fashioned knocker, just about to leave
when door opened, old woman in black said, "Oh, I just love little children," and she took a treat from bowl by the door (cobwebs on that bowl?). I ran back
to my friends, and we ran to the streetlight. I fished out that treat, black
with a white skeleton, and smelled it -- mmm, licorice, my favorite. I tasted
it (tasting isn't eating, right?); then I couldn't resist, and I put it in my
mouth (you don't actually EAT gum, right?)
When I got home, Mom asked what was in my mouth -- and didn't buy my argument
that it wasn't exactly eating. She told me to brush my teeth and go to bed.
I didn't want to throw away that wonderful gum, so I put it on the bedpost and
fell asleep, but woke up with gum in my mouth. Hmm, I must have only thought
I put it on the post. I made sure this time, but soon woke myself up again,
chewing on that gum. Must have been a trick by my brother to put it in my mouth.
I put it back and pretended to sleep; I'll catch him, but I must have dozed
off. I woke myself up again, chewing on that gum, or was it chewing me? I threw
it in the wastebasket, and halfway slept, but I felt something tickle my face.
It was that gum, crawling toward my mouth, with pencil shavings on it, saying, "I just love little children." I opened the window, threw it outside,
and slammed that window shut.
Morning -- I smelled pancakes and ran to kitchen. Mom was mad -- gum on her
slipper. "Haven't I taught you to wrap gum in paper and throw it away properly?"
I scraped the gum off her slipper, wrapped it in a piece of newspaper, and put
it in the trash can. Soon, I saw something from the corner of my eye -- the
gum, climbing across the table toward me, flecks of coffee grounds on it, and
saying, "I just love little children." I screamed; Mom smashed it
with the spatula. Dad came in as Mom was scraping that gum into a Mason jar.
We watched it writhing in the jar; it kept coming toward me. Dad taped that
jar with duct tape, put it in a box, took it way out back and buried it deep
in the ground, but sometimes I think I can still hear it saying, "I just
love little children."
So when you go trick-or-treating, follow your parents' rules and be careful
of anyone who offers you black bubble gum, especially if she says, "I just
love little children." (Cynthia's ending is "It's alive!" --
and it's a jump tale!)
•••••
Contributed by
Mary Garrett
mgarrett@mail.win.org
http://www.motell.org/directory.htm
Back to top of page
10) THE RETURN OF BRIGIT O'HARA
[An
original story by Rob McCabe. Please contact Rob at rmccabejr@yahoo.com for permission to tell.]
Full-text story: Sian O'Hara was considered a lucky
catch for any of the numerous single girls in the Irish village where his family
had lived for centuries. A wealthy farmer with a lot of land and standing at
6’ 4" in height, his curly black hair and piercing green eyes were
just some of his attributes. Many of the young village girls would stand in
the village market and stare and sigh as he walked by. But Sian had no interest
in these silly girls. If he was to marry, he often told himself, it would be
a to a woman of intelligence and beauty, which none of the girls in his village
possessed. It was just after his 40th birthday and people in the village wondered
if he would ever marry, that Fate dealt him a winning hand with the appearance
of Brigit Fitzgerald.
One fine spring day as Sian was walking through the door of the village’s
mercantile store, he practically knocked down the beautiful stranger who would
soon change his life forever. After apologizing and making sure that she was
all right, he watched as she walked away down the street. He asked the owner
if he knew who the young woman was and Sian was told that the young woman’s
name was Brigit Fitzgerald and that she had come to stay with her aunt and uncle
for a few months. This was all Sian needed to know. He knew the Fitzgeralds
quite well and decided to pay them a visit that very afternoon.
For the next several weeks, Sian was always seen at the Fitzgerald’s home,
courting the strong-willed Brigit. In Brigit, he found the ultimate woman—clever,
witty and beautiful. And as the seasons progressed, there grew between the couple,
a deep and abiding love. As Fall approached, Brigit told Sian that she had to
leave to return home.
"You don’t have to go back home. Stay here and be my wife," said
Sian.
Without hesitation, she agreed. And so, the two were married that New Year.
From the time of their courtship, people saw that Sian had indeed found the
love of his life. And Brigit was a loving, dutiful wife. They were constantly
seen walking together hand-in-hand, and in Church, their voices rose in unison.
Yes, love was a great part of their lives. And in time, Brigit was due to give
birth to their child.
It was a few weeks before delivery that Brigit experienced intense pain and
started to deliver. The midwife was called, but try as she did, she couldn’t
save either the mother or child—a boy. And so Brigit and the child died,
leaving behind a distraught husband. At the funeral, Sian was so grief-stricken
that he tried to throw himself into the grave and it took five strong men to
keep him from doing it. Following the funeral, people came to Sian’s farm
and tried to help as best as they could. Neighbors brought food and sympathy
for a straight month, but eventually, visitors came less and less and Sian sunk
into a deep despair which never stopped. Night after night, day after day, Sian
wept and called out her name as if to call her back to him.
A year and a day to the date of Brigit’s death, Sian was sitting by the
fire, reading the Bible, when a distinct knock was heard at the front door.
Three soft knocks. Sian out down his Bible and rose to answer the door, when
a strong burst of wind blew open the door. Standing in the doorway was a thin
figure, holding a small bundle to its chest. The figure was dressed in a shroud
which was covered with mould. Without saying a word, the thing glided across
the floor and sat in the rocking chair in front of the fire. Sian was filled
with horror. The thing slowly rocked back and forth in the chair, and the top
of its shroud slipped off to reveal the face of the visitant. It was Brigit
and the baby!!!
Sian stared in shock. The thing which had been Brigit had lost much of its red
hair. The face was decayed and covered with worms. Her eyes had decayed as well
and there was an eerie greenish light which shone from the empty sockets. Her
lips too had decayed and left a hideous skeletal grin. Sian walked to the thing
and spoke.
"Brigit…is it you?"
The thing nodded it’s head.
"Brigit..what happened to your long, bright red hair?"
"No need for hair in a cold, dark, grave," it answered.
"Brigit…what happened to your beautiful green eyes I used to love?"
"No need for eyes in a cold, dark, grave," the thing answered.
"Brigit….what happened to your beautiful red lips I used to kiss?" asked Sian.
Slowly he knelt down in front of the living corpse and asked,
"Brigit…why have you come back?"
The thing looked up and smiled at Sian.
"I’ve come back……..for you!!!!"
•••••
Contributed by
Rob McCabe
rmccabejr@yahoo.com
http://www.storyteller.net/tellers/rmccabe
Back to top of page
11) THE BLOOD-COVERED VAMPIRE aka THE
BLOODY VAMPIRE
[This is a traditional joke - no copyright on this version.]
Joke: The vampire went home to his castle at night. He came through the
window. In the room there were a lot of vampires.
They saw the blood on his face and they asked: "Where did you find the
blood?"
He answered: "I can't tell you - it's too embarrassing!"
The other vampires said: "Please, tell us!"
The vampire said: "Okay, follow me!"
He flew into the dark night. Suddenly there was a big dark tower.
The vampire asked: "Do you see the tower?"
The other vampires answered: "Yes, we do."
"Well, I didn't!"
•••••
From Richard:
I've just added an audio file of this tale.
This is the link:
http://www.talesandmusic.de/tales/bloody_vampire.htm
•••••
Contributed by
Richard Martin, Germany
http://www.tellatale.eu
http://www.tellatale.eu/tales/bloody_vampire.htm
Back to top of page
12) GHOST TOASTIES
[An original poem by Mike Myers. Mike gives permission to retell as long as you credit him as the author. If you have any questions, please contact Mike at ouat@kersur.net]
Not too scary.
Poem:
Once there was a ghost
who loved burnt toast,
There once was a witch
who had a twitch,
Once there was a big black cat
who chased a little gray bat
into a tall top hat,
And
There was a spider
who fell in some cider.
Now the ghost, the witch, the cat, the bat and the spider said
"Haloweeeeeeen's coming,"
and the spider started drumming
on the tall top hat,
and the cat and the bat shrieked a tune to the fat full moon,
and the witch with the twitch
danced with the ghost,
and they all ate what was left of the toast (with lotsa jelly)
(Once while telling this, a little girl went "Ooh,
Ooh" as I said "The spider fell in the cider." "What is
it?" I asked. She replied: "Does that make it spider cider?)
•••••
Contributed by
Mike Myers
ouat@kersur.net
Back to top of page
13) THE GRAVEYARD SONG
[I don't sing it, but just tell it, and get the children to do the ooohs and
ahhs.]
Song:
Woman to a graveyard went OOOH AAAHH
She was very old and bent OOOH AAAHH
Saw three corpses carried in OOOH AAAHH
They were very, very thin OOOH AAAHH
Woman to the Parson said OOOH AAAHH
Will I be like that when I'm dead OOOH AAAHH
Parson to the woman said OOOH AAAHH
Yes, you'll be like that when you're dead OOOH AAAHH
Worms crawl in and worms crawl out OOOH AAAHH
Go in thin and come out stout OOOH AAAHH
Woman to the parson said (SCREAM!)
•••••
Contributed by
Janet Dowling
Sempster@aol.com
http://www.JanetTellsStories.co.uk
Ewell, Surrey, UK
Back to top of page
14) THE GHOST OF JEAN LAFITTE
[This is an original story based on a Louisiana legend. J.J. Reneaux said that a soldier returning home from the Civil War came across this house and this treasure. I tell this story to all ages with good response. When I tell this in schools I talk about the pirate Jean Lafitte and give some history of the battle of New Orleans and the war of 1812. I also talk a bit about the Cajuns and their superstitions.
NOTES ON TELLING: There can be a bit of a jump moment when the ghost disappears. At the end of the story, I include a loud eerie ghostly laugh.
Bones: A trapper lived in the bayou his whole life. He knew the bayou better than anyone. He also knew he was going to be the one to find the buried treasure of the pirate Jean Lafitte. He had heard stories about this from his parents and grandparents his whole life. Many people thought that the treasure was just a legend, but not the trapper. He was determined to find it. While out in the bayou one day he came across a mysterious house he had never seen before. Inside the house he met the ghost of Lafitte. The ghost took him through the house, each room more spectacular than the one before.
At the back of the house was a small room with a trap door. Under this door was the treasure, but Lafitte told him he couldn't tell anyone else, then disappeared. The trap door slammed shut and the handle broke off in his hands. The trapper couldn't get to the treasure. He goes and gets his friends and returns. He took friends through house which is now old and run down. Each room more run down and decrepit than the one before. They work and work until finally they spring open the trap door and all they find are bones and all they hear is the eerie laughter of the ghost of Jean Lafitte.
•••••
Contributed by
Dianna Waite
diawaite@salpublib.org
http://www.storyteller.net/tellers/dwaite
Back to top of page
15) DEAD MEN WORKING IN A CANE FIELD
[For older kids and adults, this story can be made very gruesome or toned down depending on your audience. I've included a little more than bones, but to make it understood I had to tell you more! An aunt once told me that there were zombies working in the cane fields and this is the story that came from that.]
Bones +: Around the turn of the century after the Civil War, it became difficult for plantation owners in and around New Orleans to find workers to bring in their crops. A man and his wife are caretakers for a wealthy plantation owner. They hire workers to bring in the crops and in exchange are given a place to live and money for themselves and to pay the workers. The man thinks the workers are lazy. He is vicious in his treatment of them and pays them very little. The woman does not spend any money on food for them. Just feeds them gruel. But still they don't feel they make enough money.
The man hears that a vodoo woman in New Orleans can help him. He goes to Marie Labou, the vodoo queen, and asks for a spell to make them work harder. She tells him you cannot change the nature of a living soul, but that she can help him find workers. She gives him an Ouanga, a black bag Ouanga, full of animal parts (chicken feet and bat wings—whatever you want) and dried blood, and tells him to shake it over fresh graves and the zombies will rise and follow him. But she warns him never to let salt pass through zombies' mouths or they will know themselves for what they are and return to their graves. He must never let their relatives see the zombies, either. She says she will not help him if he is found out.
So in the dead of night he goes deep into bayou country and robs graves. He takes the poor souless creatures home and puts them to work. Nothing he does will make them work harder or faster. He beats them, but they do not bleed. His wife starves them, giving them nothing but water to drink. She begins to get very creeped out by their eyes. The couple is finally making money because they don't have to pay workers, but someone must stay with them at all times.
The man decides that it is Mardi Gras in New Orleans and he deserves a treat. He leaves his wife with the zombies and goes to Mardi Gras. She does okay for a while but really begins to feel sorry for herself, then sorry for the zombies. She decides that she could take them to Mardi Gras to see one parade. At the parade she buys some pistasche (pistaschio cookies) and gives some to the zombies. They have salt in them. As soon as the salt passes their lips, they stand up and begin marching the parade route through town heading back to their graves. Friends and relatives see them, They are outraged. The man is watching the parade and sees the zombies. He heads for home. Meets up with his wife and before they can get home, they are ambushed and killed by the relatives of the zombies. They are buried near their home, but when the plantation owners goes there the next day, he finds empty graves with a small black bag beside each. Perhaps they are now working in those same fields.
•••••
Contributed by
Dianna Waite
diawaite@salpublib.org
http://www.storyteller.net/tellers/dwaite
Back to top of page
16) THE GHOST WITH ONE BLACK EYE
Bones: Baby’s favorite drink – apple juice
No apple juice on table
Baby: I want my apple juice, and I want it NOW!
Father: I’ll go to cellar for your apple juice
Went down – was dark
Opened cellar door – was darker
Heard voice: I AM THE GHOST WITH ONE BLACK EYE
Ran upstairs: I don’t want to go down there any more!
Baby: I want my apple juice and I want it NOW!
Mother – same
Big brother – same
Big sister – same
Baby goes down – it is dark
Opens cellar door – is darker
Hears voice: I AM THE GHOST WITH ONE BLACK EYE
Baby: Well, I’ll give you two black eyes if you stop me getting my apple juice!
Ghost was never heard from again
•••••
Contributed by
Granny Sue
Susanna Holstein
susannaholstein@yahoo.com
Back to top of page
17) A WEST VIRGINIA GHOST STORY
[An original story by Susanna Holstein, based on the story as reported in Pioneers in Jackson County West Virginia: History of Mill Creek and Sandy Valley and Its Early Settlements, by John A. House, 1906.]
Bones: Back when West Virginia was still a part of Virginia, a man named William Davis built a cabin by the creek now known as Big Run, in eastern Jackson County. The area was very wild and full of game, and Davis thought it would make a good place to set up camp. He built a rough shelter, and soon his two grown sons moved in with him.
One of the sons had a wife named Sidna and two little children. Sidna and her children came to live at the camp, too. Life must have been hard for Sidna, with three men and two children to care for in that wild place. She would have had to get her water from a spring or the creek, and probably cooked over an open fire. Shelters in those days were often three-sided lean-tos with animal skins hung over the front for protection from the weather. It could not have been easy for her to cook, care for children, try to keep the place clean, and care for everyone’s clothing.
Sidna became ill, and one evening at supper she fell from her chair, dead. The men buried her nearby in an unmarked grave. A few days later, as William Davis was walking down a path in the woods, Sidna appeared beside the path, and seemed to be trying to speak to him. Davis was so frightened he ran away as fast as he could. Not long after that, she appeared on the path in front of him again, and once again he ran, frightened almost to death.
When she appeared the third time, Davis called up all the courage he had and asked her, "Why do you not rest?"
Sidna replied, "I am worried about my children. I do not think you can take care of them. I want you to find a home for them, where they will be cared for and given an education."
Davis promised he would do as she asked, and Sidna reached out her hand, as if to shake on the bargain. Davis quickly pulled his hand away from her, but not before her cold fingers touched his wrist, leaving two yellow marks.
William Davis kept his word and found a good home for the children. He moved away from Big Run, but those who knew him said that the yellow marks remained on his wrist until his death many years later.
Links:
http://www.wvghosts.com
A website containing over 200 West Virginia Ghost stories, lore and legends
http://www.wvculture.org/history/notewv/wizardclip1.html
One of West Virginia’s most noted ghost stories, this version is by a noted West Virginia historian.
http://www.ferrum.edu/applit/studyg/West/htm/grghost.htm
Probably the best-known of West Virginia’s ghost stories, the version on this website includes a recorded version of the story you can listen to, and a link to an activity that allows you to put flowers on Zora Heaster Shue’s grave by correctly answering questions about the story.
http://www.callwva.com/hauntings/credits.cfm
The WV Division of Tourism has collected ghost stories from around the state and from other websites.
http://www.flatwoodsmonster.com/
Devoted to one of West Virginia’s most famous UFO stories. Be sure to look at the pictures of the Monster Festival, which include photos of Kathleen May and her sons, who reported sighting the Flatwoods Monster in 1954.
http://www.mothmanlives.com/
http://www.prairieghosts.com/moth.html
Two websites with information about Point Pleasant’s strange story of Mathman. The first site offers information about the annual Mothman Festival in Point Pleasant. WV. The second provides an account of the sightings and a list of books about Mothman.
•••••
Contributed by
Granny Sue
Susanna Holstein
susannaholstein@yahoo.com
Back to top of page
18) MR. FOX
[Trad. English story (cited BY Shakespeare - so no worries about copyright!) A scary story - not for younger kids. It is the English Bluebeard. An article, Discussing Mr Fox, on the methodology of using this story to initiate a classroom discussion is at http://www.hltmag.co.uk/jul02/sart6.htm in the e-zine Humanising Language Teaching
http://www.hltmag.co.uk ]
Bones: Lady Mary, seven brothers, and many suitors. Rejected all, until she met Mr. Fox. No one knew who he was, nor where he came from. He told her about the house where they would live, but never took her there.
She wanted to know.
Day before the wedding, rode through the forest to find it.
Came to a wall, above the gate was written: Be bold, be bold.
She was bold - went through the gate.
Came to the house, above the door: Be bold, be bold. But not too bold.
But she was bold - went in.
Staircase - went up.
Small door: Be bold, be bold. But not too bold - lest that your heart's blood should run cold.
But she was bold - opened the door.
Hanging from hooks on the wall, row upon row, bodies of young women, white
wedding-clothes stained red by their own blood.
Screamed, ran down stairs.
Saw through window, Mr. Fox coming, dragging yet another woman, her white
wedding-clothes stained red with her own blood.
Lady Mary hid as Mr. Fox dragged woman to stairs.
Young woman with last strength put out her hand (a hand with a ring) to hold onto banisters.
He saw the diamond ring. Drew sword, cut off hand.
Hand flew through air, landed on Lady Mary's lap.
He couldn't find hand, dragged body upstairs to bloody chamber.
Next day, wedding feast. "My dear, you seem so pale."
Bad dream.
"Oh, dreams are always the opposite. But tell me your dream."
I dreamt I rode to look for your house - wall - gate - Be bold, be bold.
Mr. Fox: "It is not so, nor it was not so."
Door - Be bold, be bold. But not too bold.
"It is not so, nor it was not so."
Small door - Be bold, be bold. But not too bold - lest that your heart's blood should run cold.
"It is not so, nor it was not so."
Bodies. "It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid that it should be so."
You - dragging another young woman.
"It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid that it should be so."
Diamond ring.
"It is not so, nor it was not so. And God forbid that it should be so."
But it is so, and it was so. Here's hand and ring I have to show.
Lady Mary's brothers drew swords - cut Mr Fox into a thousand pieces!
•••••
Contributed by
Richard Martin, Germany
http://www.tellatale.eu
http://www.tellatale.eu/tales/mr_fox.htm
Back to top of page
19) I, LILITH
[Occult, child-killer,feminist. I first became aware of Lilith from my interest in mythology and Feminism. I later read that Lilith was also discussed in Jewish Midrash and after some considerable reading on her, I also discovered that the King James Version of the Bible has two creation myths in the Book of Genesis concerning the first Man and Woman. It is written that “In the Beginning God created man and woman—He created Them.” And yet in the next chapter, it was written that God took a rib from Adam and created Eve. Unfortunately, Lilith’s strength was looked upon as a negative aspect of womanhood, and she was demonized for her individuality by the Patriarchy. What follows is a story I wrote from Lilith's perspective. Rob McCabe]
Full-text story: The first thing I remembered was opening my eyes and seeing the man’s face close to mine. He smiled.
“Who are you?” I asked with a mixture of fear and great curiosity.
“I am Adam. God has created you to be with me here in the Garden.”
“And where is this Garden?” I asked as I rose up from the ground. The man laughed and took me gently by the hand and waved his hand in a sweeping circle. “All of this is the Garden. The Garden of Eden. And you, what name am I to call you?” he asked with great curiosity.
I didn’t know how to answer. What was my name? Did I have one? I closed my large dark eyes, swept my long, luxurious black hair back and listened to my innermost voice. From deep within my self-hood I heard the name whispered. “Lilith..thy name is Lilith.” I smiled at the man and answered. “I am called Lilith. That is what you may call me.” Leading him by the hand, I asked him to show me around the Garden. I asked him many questions that day and the many days that followed.
Adam explained to me that the Lord Our God had created him out of the earth (adamah) and that his name was Adam, because he was created from the earth and dust. He also went on to explain that I had been created by the mighty hand of the Lord our God from the same Earth and that I had been created to ease his loneliness and to be his mate. This seemed like an extraordinary thing to me , but since I had no previous memory of anything except Nothingness, I accepted all that the man told me.
Time went by and for a while we lived happily as we explored the world around us. Adam showed me the fruits of the vine and trees. He also showed me the creatures of the air and the animals over which we had dominion and which we could eat for survival. He also showed me a large tree that grew in the center of the Garden. The tree that contained fruit that could not be eaten--the forbidden tree—the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. God, Adam explained, forbade us to eat from that tree because we were not able to understand and that if we disobeyed Him, His wrath would know no
bounds!!!
One night Adam told me that the Lord God had commanded him to become fruitful and multiply by coupling with me. He laid me on the ground on my back and began to try to control my body to be a receptacle for his seed. I pushed him away saying, “You and I were created from the same earth. We should treat each other with dignity and respect. If you wish to couple with me, let us lay side by side and meet with mutual dignity.”
Adam was angered and tried again to force himself upon me, saying, “I am your Lord and Master and it is your duty to obey me in all things!!!” I was filled with rage!!!! How dare he command me!!! I pushed him away on the third attempt and cried aloud the sacred, ineffable name of God that gave me great power and flew away into the night. His cries of despair could be heard for miles, but I did not wish to return to him. He was arrogant and cruel. I flew away to cave near the Red Sea and there I made my home.
Days, weeks, months passed and I grew lonely for the soft voice and gentle touch of a man. Having no human near, I willingly gave myself freely to the ancient Spirits of the Earth and Air. These Spirits filled me with their seed and I gave birth to Spirit beings, which flew, throughout the world.
Now, it came to pass, a few months later that a trio of angels came to me to beg me to return to Adam. Their names were Senoi, Sansenoi, and Sammangelof. They informed me that following my departure, Adam had cried out to God, “Oh Lord of the Universe, the woman Thou hast given me has fled from me!!!” And so God sent them to retrieve me and bring me back to Adam to ease his loneliness. Even if it was against my Will!!! I laughed cruelly in their faces and said that nothing could induce me to return to him. And, I added for extra effect, that if Adam and any future wife of his were to ever have any children, I would come and kill them. Boys would be left unharmed for nine days and girls for 21 days—thereafter, I would rage into a blood-drinking child-killer and destroy them. These angels argued hotly with me for several hours until they laid a hold of me and tried to destroy me by drowning me in the Red Sea. We fought for a long time, and just when I thought my life was nearing its end, with a final burst of energy I pushed them away and screamed, “Wait!!!! If you let me live, I will make a bargain with you. If mothers placed sacred amulets around the beds of their sleeping infants, with your names on them, I shall leave them unharmed. What do you say???”
I prayed silently within myself that they would accept my bargain. It took them several minutes while they discussed the matter for some considerable time. Please, I thought to myself, please let them accept the bargain. Finally, Senoi approached me and said, “It is agreed upon Lilith. We shall let the people know of thy danger and they will arm themselves against you and your offspring. But take care, woman…let no harm come to Adam or any of his progeny or future wife of his, or else we WILL return and destroy thee.”
So saying, these angels took their leave of me and I was left alone in my solitude. And so it was that superstitious Jewish mothers of an earlier age, placed four sacred amulets, one on each wall, inscribed with the names of these three angels and a sacred chant, “Lilla—abi!!” (Lilith Begone).
You know the rest. God created Eve from Adam’s rib to be his dutiful, yet submissive woman, and the race of Man came from their union. And as for me?? Here I remain, waiting, seeking, and living my life on my own terms. I am She who said No!!!! I am She whom some say dared to go against God and say that I was equal in all things.
I am Lilith!!!!!
•••••
Contributed by Rob McCabe
rmccabejr@yahoo.com
http://www.storyteller.net/tellers/rmccabe
Back to top of page
20) THE RACONTEUR'S REVENGE
[An original story by Rob McCabe. Please contact Rob at rmccabejr@yahoo.com for permission to tell. Eerie, unjust hanging, ghost, revenge]
Full text: Long ago in a small French village there lived a reclusive young man named Jean who was loved by all of the people in the village because he was a raconteur--a storyteller--of remarkable talent. The people of his village fed him and housed him from time to time and by way of thanking them for their kindness and hospitality, he would regale them with age-old fairy tales and folktales. Yes, everyone in the village loved Jean—everyone that is, except Marie, a self-righteous, overly pious woman who loved reading the Bible and lived her life for God and His Word. Marie hated the joy that Jean spread to her fellow villagers. After all, she had said repeatedly, only God’s Word should be spread, not those heathenish, Satanic tales of faeries, monsters, wishes, mystery and imagination.
No one in the village paid her much mind because of her vicious tongue—even the village priest Pere Roland had spoken to her several times about her cruel and bitter nature. “Marie” he had said, “ Judge not, lest ye be Judged. What harm can these tales really do to those pious creatures who repeatedly come to me for spiritual guidance?” Marie would accuse even him of impious behavior. “Mark my words, Pere Roland, nothing but evil will come of Jean’s magical tales. Just wait and see. He is promoting Satanic messages to the children!!!”
Many years passed and the children who had heard Jean’s tales became themselves parents, and they too raised their children on the fantastic tales Jean told around the village bonfires and in his friends’ homes. Over the years, Jean had built himself a small stone house and raised a small collection of animals: chickens and pigs and a cow and a small garden of vegetables and herbs. Over the years, the people had been good to Jean, and he continually returned their kindness with stories. Through the years, Marie had become more and more bitter. She had eventually shunned the villagers and even the priest himself. More and more she could be seen sitting outside of her house, reading her Bible and muttering to herself. Her animosity towards Jean had grown so much so that she would spit in his direction and call him names as he passed.
One day, it happened that two children from the village had disappeared after visiting Jean’s house. Try as they might, no one from the village could discover their whereabouts and after three days, they approached Jean to ask for his assistance in finding the missing children. Jean had just finished slaughtering a pig and was covered with blood when they approached him. Marie was walking with them and when she saw Jean covered with blood. She screamed. “ Look neighbors, it has finally come to pass. This spawn of Satan has murdered our children to his dark master. See how he’s covered with blood?? The blood of the Innocents.!!!”
Jean was shocked. He pointed to the pig’s carcass hanging in the yard. But no one took notice. In the yard where Jean had slaughtered the pig, they found a child’s ball and that was all the proof they needed. Someone grabbed Jean and slapped him hard and accused him of acts against good Christian souls. Another neighbor bought out a rope and flung it over an old oak tree. The mob was filled with anger and before anyone could stop them, two men grabbed Jean and hanged him.
As he swung slowly from side to side, creaking in the wind, a woman in the crowd screamed. Coming out of the forest were the two missing children. They had been lost and had only found their way out due to the voices of the crowd they had heard. No one knew what to say or do. The children were embraced by their parents, and the sound of weeping filled the air. Everyone wept for Jean—everyone, that is, except Marie who looked defiantly at the swinging corpse. Jean was buried in the churchyard and his murderers were brought to justice. From that day, no one spoke of the horrible injustice done to Jean, the raconteur. The village priest offered several masses for the soul of Jean and eventually the village returned to its daily routine.
A year passed. Marie, who had been rebuked by her fellow villagers, still lived in her modest cottage, reading her Bible and praying that God was going to watch over her. It was just past midnight on the anniversary of Jean’s murder, when Marie woke with a gasp from a horrible dream. She lay in bed trembling with fear. In her dream, an angel of God had turned his back on her saying that because of her evil tongue, Jean had died a horrible death. Why would she dream such a thing? She hadn’t really been responsible. It had been those men who had hanged him. Suddenly the door blew open with a loud bang and standing in the doorway was a figure. It was Jean!!! The wind blew fiercely through the open door and his hair was mottled with filth. It looked as if he had climbed out of his grave, and as Marie watched in horror, unable to scream or speak, the wraith approached her bed and stood by her side. Marie finally found her voice and shrieked.
Jean's face was badly decomposed and the maggots dropped from his face onto her bed. And then the thing spoke in a voice filled with melancholy. “Marie. It was you. It was always you who hated me. It was through your momentary madness and lying tongue that my friends killed me. Your lying tongue that brought about the disaster of my destruction. I have come here tonight to exact my revenge upon you. You will never use your viperous tongue to speak evil again!!!” So saying, Jean leaned forward, reached out and held Marie’s mouth open while he viciously ripped her tongue at the root. She shrieked once and fainted dead away.
In the morning, Marie opened her eyes and groaned in pain. What a nightmare she had had she thought to herself. But the pain made her vividly aware that it had been no dream—for she looked down and saw that her bed was covered with blood—in fact, it was a miracle that she was alive. She tried to call out, but she had no tongue and she wept tears of anger mixed with regret. Taking her Bible, she turned to a passage she had heard the priest tell her many years before…a passage that was underscored in dried blood. Her blood!! “Judge Not, Lest Ye Be Judged.”
•••••
Contributed by
Rob McCabe
rmccabejr@yahoo.com
http://www.storyteller.net/tellers/rmccabe
Back to top of page
21) THE WEREWOLF
[An original story by Rob McCabe. Please contact Rob at rmccabejr@yahoo.com for permission to tell. Eerie, unjust hanging, ghost, revenge]
Full text: Long ago and far away in a remote village in the Pyrenees Mountains, there lived a poor farmer, Jacques, for that was his name, lived in a modest stone house he had built when he had first arrived in the village of St. Martin and it was here that he lived alone, save for the few chickens, a cow and pigs he raised for his food. He also had a small tract of fertile soil on which he raised wheat, barley and vegetables. As I said, Jacques lived alone and as the years progressed, he continually wished that he could have found a wife to share his life and to give him a strong son to whom he would leave his small farm once he had died. Already in his late 30s, it looked as if he would never marry and he had resigned himself to being alone when fate stepped in and played his lucky card.
It was the night of April 30th, May Eve, and Jacques was at the tavern, drinking some ale with his friends, when he stopped short and stared at the beautiful raven-haired serving girl who had approached his table. She was tall for a woman of that country, with long black hair, a voluptuous figure with fine child-bearing hips, an enchanting smile, and the most unusual eyes that seemed to flash gold in the dim light of the tavern.
“What’s your name, girl?” asked Jacques.
She laughed and smiled. “Isabeau.”
When Jacques heard that name and the merry lilt of her laughter, his heart beat with the wild energetic rhythm of youth. He smiled and from that day his heart was lost.to the beautiful Isabeau.
Many months passed and Jacques spent as much time as he could at the tavern to see Isabeau and hear her melodious laughter ringing through the room. She was a popular serving girl, but she was not too busy to stop briefly and talk with Jacques. On her days off, the villagers would often see her and Jacques talking quietly together as they walked through the village. The people began to gossip about the couple and after a year of courtship Jacques made the announcement that he and Isabeau were to be married in the spring. Everyone rejoiced for their good fortune and as the marriage day grew nearer, Jacques wondered why Isabeau never bothered to send word to her family. And when he asked her, all she would say was, “I am alone in the world, save for you, my dearest. Please don’t ask me about my family again. For all purposes, they are dead to me and in the past. All that matters now is our future together.” And that was that. The couple were married on May Day and while the villagers danced and sang, Jacques and his new wife danced the Maypole dance and drank May wine. And that night, Jacques and Isabeau consummated their relationship and tied their futures together.
A few nights following their marriage, Jacques and Isabeau were sitting in their cottage eating dinner. Isabeau was unusually reticent and whenever Jacques tried to talk to her, she would mumble an answer. Jacques was puzzled and finally asked her if anything was wrong.
“No my dear. I’m just restless, that’s all.”
Jacques continued to eat in silence. Then, out in the distance, he heard the howling of a wolf. Isabeau bristled a little and Jacques noticed that she had turned her back to him and was looking out the window. In the distance,a bright full moon could be seen in the clear night sky. The wolf howled mournfully again and Isabeau rose to her feet and walked to the window. Jacques got up from his seat and walked behind his wife and held her close. He nuzzled the back of her neck with his beard and asked, “Isabeau…are you all right?” She turned towards her husband and answered him with a passionate kiss.
Months passed and all seemed well, except for the night of the full moon which always affected Isabeau the same way. She would be sullen and restless, but a few nights later she would be her own charming self. Jacques wondered if she was the type of person to suffer from moon madness, a curious disease of the mind which seemed to come only at the time of the full moon. Whatever the problem, Jacques loved his wife with a passion he hadn’t known in years. She made an excellent home for him. She cooked and cleaned and was the perfect companion, help-mate that he had been looking for. And two years following their marriage, Isabeau gave birth to a fine, healthy son. Jacques was overjoyed and Isabeau shared in his delight by loving and caring for the infant.
A week following the birth of his son, Jacques was in the field mowing hay when he heard Isabeau calling his name. He dropped the scythe and ran to the fence. “What is it dearest?” he asked. “ I must run to the village for a few hours, will you keep an eye on the baby? Why don’t you feed the chickens and milk the cow? The field can wait for a few hours.”
Jacques smiled and walked towards her. Of course he would watch his son. He knew that this time of the year colds and draughts could take the life of healthier people. And winter was approaching causing the wolves to prowl the countryside looking for food. He kissed Isabeau and told her to come back as fast as she could. “Be careful love, the wolves are beginning to come out and if they are hungry, they might attack you. Already several chickens and small animals have been killed. So promise me you will be back before nightfall." She promised she would, and with a wave of her hand, she walked down the road to the village.
A few hours had passed, and night was beginning to fall. A cold wind was blowing through the trees, knocking down some of their rust-colored leaves. Jacques looked outside the window waiting for Isabeau to come. The cold harvest moon was high in the sky. It was full and cast an eerie golden glow on the surrounding countryside. Suddenly, he heard a wolf howling. It seemed to be rather close to the house. The baby stirred and started to cry. Jacques picked up the baby and began to rock it, to soothe it the best he could. Where was Isabeau? She should have been back by now.
Then he heard the sound of a wolf howling a few feet from his door. The chickens were cackling rather loudly and he realized that the chickens were being eaten. Putting the baby back in its crib, he ran to the wall and got his gun. He opened the door and was pushed roughly to the ground by a huge, grey she-wolf with golden eyes. The animal snarled and bared its teeth and Jacques yelled loudly. The wolf snapped at him and then jumped over him and ran to the crib. It only took a moment, but Jacques screamed in anger and fear as the wolf grabbed the screaming baby and ran through the open door. The infant’s terrified screams could be heard in the distance and Jacques was running as fast as he could to catch the monster who had taken his infant son. Gun in hand, he ran through the woods. Although it was night, the moon’s light cast eerie shadows in the woods and Jacques could see bits of flesh and blood in the pathway. He knew his son was dead, and he also knew that the wolf would pay with its life. The trail led to a cave and he poised his gun ready to kill the monster who had robbed him of his future.
He entered the dark cave and heard nothing but the wind blowing through the cave entrance, but as he walked further into the darkness, he could see the flickering of a fire burning in the distance. This was strange, he thought to himself. Why would there be a fire burning in a cave in the woods? When he finally came to a great cavernous hall within the cave. He stood there gasping in horror at the sight which lay before him.
The hall was filled with bones—animal and human. The earth was caked with blood and in the corner he saw the badly torn body of his infant son. The blanket that he had wrapped around the tiny body was torn and bloody. He let out a scream and embraced the bloody corpse. Tears stung his eyes and he yelled and screamed for the wolf to come out. The cave echoed with his anguished cries. Finally, he looked around the cave and found, tucked in the corner, a grey wolf skin. He picked it up and examined it. It was covered with fresh blood. He muttered something under his breath and flung it into the fire. No sooner had he done so, than a piercing shriek came from behind the rocks and a naked woman rushed from behind a group of boulders and tried to pull the skin from the roaring fire as it burned. Jacques screamed in horror. The woman was Isabeau. She turned a face of hatred on her husband and ran to attack him, when she suddenly burst into flames. The skin and the woman were burnt to ashes within seconds and Jacques was left alone in the dark cave.
When he had fully recovered his senses. Jacques walked out of the cave carrying his dead son. He buried him in the field, made a tiny cross of two sticks tied together and went into the cottage. Weeks passed and no one saw Jacques in the village or at the tavern. No one had seen Isabeau either. And when their curiosity was at its peak, the villagers went to Jacques’ farm and found a horrible sight waiting for them. Hanging from the rafters was Jacques. It was obvious to everyone that he had been dead for several days because the room was close and the stench of death was overpowering. They saw the overturned crib and the bloodstained floor and knew that something terrible had happened to Jacques and the baby. In the field, where they hurriedly buried Jacques, they found the tiny grave and knew that some great tragedy had befallen Jacques and his son. And try as they did, no one ever saw Isabeau again.
•••••
Contributed by Rob McCabe
rmccabejr@yahoo.com
http://www.storyteller.net/tellers/rmccabe
Back to top of page
22) WITCHES' ALPHABET SOUP
[An original story by Linda Spitzer © 2004. Inspired by Alphabet Soup by Mirko Gabler. Contact Linda at Storybag@aol.com for permission to retell. Funny, gross, witches, participation.]
Suggested Opening:
You’re not going to believe this, but Witches have to go to school, too. Just like everybody else. And learn the same things, reading, writing and ‘rithmetic. How else could they cast their spells, make potions and get instructions for flying on brooms??? This is the story of how Willie and Wendy, the witch twins went to their first day of school.
Full Text: Willie and Wendy, the Witch Twins went to school. On the first day of school they were shy and sat in the back of the class. The teacher sat them alphabetically, though they didn’t even know what that meant. You see their last name was Witchypoo.
They loved school and learning their ABCs and by the end of the first day, they could both recite the whole alphabet. Their teacher said, “Children, I have a homework assignment for you. I want each of you to make a batch of Alphabet Soup and tell me tomorrow what ingredients starting with every letter of the alphabet you want to add to make your soup.”
Willie and Wendy were very excited and they walked home singing their ABC song. (ABCDEFG, HIJKLMNOP sing out loud). What they didn’t notice was that a boy in their class decided to follow them and find out where they lived. His name was Ziggy . But--- the twins did not know Ziggy was following them.
“Halooooooo, We’re home” the twins chanted. From out of the Witch’s cave home came Mother Witch. Ziggy thought she looked like a monster—she had a green face, a long orange nose and hair that just stuck straight up under her witch’s hat.
“Oh, witchy kids, I’m so happy you’re home. What did you learn at school on your first day?” she asked.
“We learned the alphabet and we have homework. Will you help us make alphabet soup? We have to add one or more ingredients for each letter of the alphabet. Will you help us? Tomorrow, we have to tell our teacher all the things we added.”
“Sure ---this‘ll be fun for me, too. Here’s my favorite cauldron. Let’s start a fire under it. Willie, get some water, Wendy, get some wood.”
Willie started the fire. Mother Witch filled the big black cauldron to the top with water. The big black pot sat right over the fire on some logs. Remember Ziggy? He was hiding behind a tree . Was he doing his homework? No, he was not. He was watching what the Witch Twins were doing.
“Let’s see, what shall we add for A? I know,” said Wendy.“Look there’s an ant hill right here on the ground, all crawly and red. Let’s add the ants.”
“Perfect!” said the mother. “Now for B, I happen to have some bats,—just go in the cave and get them out, Willie.”
“Ooooh, I wanted to add boogers” said Willie. “Can we add both?”
“Sure. For C, let’s add some catsup for flavor or some______? (get audience to help from here on.)
“D, let’s add dandruff or dog’s breath, poopy diapers."
“For E, we can add some earwigs, eels."
“F, we can add frogs, fleas, fungus."
“G, we can add gobs of mucous.”
“H, we can add these hairballs.”
I,J, K, L, M (just say these letters fast or it gets too long)
"For M, we can put in these mice or mosquitoes."
“N,O P, we can add pus, puke, and a little pepper for seasoning.”
"Q,R,S, Oh let’s add spiders and snakes and stinky sneakers."
All this time Ziggy was watching the witches making soup with amazement.
While the twins were adding ingredients to their alphabet soup, their mother was stirring and singing, “ Bubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble, Make our Alphabet Soup."
"T,U V for vipers and vomit."
"W,X Y Hmmmm, let’s add Wine."
Suddenly, there was a voice from somewhere out there. The voice yelled out really loud---“Wine doesn’t begin with Y, it begins with W.”
“Who said that?” asked Mother Witch. The Twins turned around and there was Ziggy. “Oh, that’s Ziggy, he’s a boy in our class.”
“Ziggy, Ziggy, that starts with Z. We need a Z in our soup, don’t we?” said Mother Witch.
Ziggy started to run. He climbed a tree, but Witchy Mom got her broomstick and started to chase Ziggy. She flew to the tree and reached up to grab Ziggy, but all she got were his stinky sneakers as he climbed up higher. She pulled those sneakers so hard, why, they came right off. Ziggy climbed even higher to get out of her reach. “Well, we didn’t get Ziggy, but we got his stinky sneakers to add to the soup. His pants have a zipper, and that begins with Z, so we can leave him alone and go throw in a zipper in the soup. I just happen to have one in my sewing box. Let’s go, kids, and finish making our alphabet soup.”
They finished making the soup and it tasted so fine they had all their witchy relatives over for dinner. The family liked it so much they wanted to make it an annual holiday food.
Next day the Witch Twins handed in their list of ingredients for their alphabet soup and they got an “A." They looked over at Ziggy. He looked so shy and lonesome. Willie and Wendy made a point of playing with him on the playground that day and including Ziggy in all their games, and they became the best of friends.
•••••
Contributed by
Linda Spitzer
Storybag@aol.com
http://storyqueen.com
Back to top of page
23) THE GUNNIWOLF
[Funny, rhythmical, song chorus, a little scary, for younger kids]
Bones: There was once a little girl who lived with her mother very close to a dense jungle. Each day the mother would caution Little Girl to be most careful and never enter the jungle, because - if she did - the Gunniwolf might get her! Little Girl always promised that she would never, NEVER even go NEAR the jungle.
One day the mother had to go away for a while. The mother was hardly out of sight when Little Girl noticed some beautiful white flowers growing at the very edge of the jungle. "Oh," she thought, "Wouldn’t I love to have some of those-I’ll pick just a few." Then, forgetting all about the warning, she began to gather the white flowers, all the while singing happily to herself:
Kum-Kwa, Khi-wa, Kum-Kwa, Khi-wa
All of a sudden she noticed, a little further in the jungle, some beautiful PINK flowers growing. "Oh," she thought, "I must surely gather some of those too!" On she tripped, farther into the jungle, and began picking the pink flowers, all the while singing happily:
Kum-Kwa, Khi-wa, Kum-Kwa, Khi-wa
When she had her arms full of white and pink flowers, she peeped a little further, and way in the middle of the jungle she saw some beautiful ORANGE flowers growing. "Oh," she thought, "I’ll take just a few of those, and what a pretty bouquet I’ll have to show my mother!" So she gathered the orange flowers too, singing to herself all the while: (song)
When SUDDENLY - up rose the GUNNIWOLF!!! He said, "Little Girl, why for you move?"
Tremblingly she answered. "I no move."
The Gunnifwolf said, "Then you sing that guten sweeten song again!"
So she sang: (song)
And then the old Gunniwolf nodded his head and fell fast asleep. Away ran Little Girl as fast as ever she could: Pit-pat pit-pat pit-pat pit-pat
Then the Gunniwolf woke up! Away he ran: Hunker-cha hunker-cha hunker-cha.....Until he caught up to her. And he said, "Little Girl, why for you move?"
"I no move," she answered.
"Then you sing that guten, sweeten song again!"
Timidly she sang: (song)
Then the old Gunniwolf nodded, nodded, and went sound asleep. Away ran Little Girl just as fast as ever she could: pit-pat pit-pat
And again the Gunniwolf woke up! Away he ran:
hunker-cha hunker-cha
pit-pat pit-pat pit-pat
hunker-cha hunker-cha
until he caught up to her and said, "Little Girl, why for you move?"
"I no move."
"Then you sing that guten, sweeten song again!"
So she sang: (song)
Until the old Gunniwolf again nodded, nodded, and fell asleep.
Then AWAY ran Little Girl:
pit-pat until she came almost to the edge of the jungle!
pit-pat until she got away OUT of the jungle!
pit-pat pitty-pat until she reached her very own door!
From that day to this, Little Girl has never, NEVER gone into the jungle again.
•••••
Contributed by
Granny Sue
Susanna Holstein
susannaholstein@yahoo.com
Back to top of page
24) MY DARLING FRANKENSTEIN
[To the tune of My Darling Clementine)
Two online sources:
http://www.scoutscan.com/songs/o/osong013.html
http://www.creighton.edu/~bsteph/pack114/library/songs.html
Song Parody - all ages, humorous]
REFRAIN:
Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Frankenstein
You are lost and gone forever,
Dreadful sorry, Frankenstein.
VERSE 1
I was working with some test tubes
in my laboratory fine
Then one day, I broke my glasses
And created Frankenstein. (refrain)
VERSE 2
He was handsome, he was charming
As his head, I screwed on tight
His teeth were sharp and they were pearly
And his eyes popped out at night. (refrain)
*VERSE 3
Then Dracula came to help me
But, from him I had to part
He cooked my steak to tough for dinner
So I drove it through his heart. (refrain)
*VERSE 4
Then the Wolfman came to help me
I said, "What's that in your mouth?
He said........fangs...........I said your welcome!!
And he still is heading south. (refrain)
VERSE 5
Oh Frankenstein, helped in the kitchen
We were mixing up a cake
But, he fell into the mixer
And got whipped up by mistake. (refrain)
VERSE 6
Cooking nicely in the oven
Oh that cake it came out fine
Told my friends those lumps were raisons
But those lumps were........Frankenstein! (refrain)
[*Verses 3 & 4 are "extra" that aren't needed for the storyline. Might be used with older audiences and omitted for younger ones. Another tip is to keep it lively and moving - eliminating 3& 4 helps this. Using the refrain as an opening or gathering song is great, especially with a mixed group where adults will know and respond to the song and the children will be thrilled to hear it's about Frankenstein.]
•••••
Contributed by
Ina Valeria Doyle
ivdoyle@rochester.rr.com
Back to top of page
25) THE GHOST BRIDE
[A ghost story from Lake Superior, adapted by Linda Spitzer from Twenty-five Ghost Stories by W.B. Holland. Copyright 1904, J. S. Ogilve Publishing Co. Source is Stories to Tell or Read Aloud, A Collection of Folk Tales, Legends and Myths, selected by Anne Simley. Burgess Pub. Co, Minneapolis, MN. Eerie, ghost, haunting]
Full text: The winter nights up at the Great Lakes in Canada are white and luminous as the Milky Way. The silence is also as white as can be. The stars seem brighter and seem higher than anywhere else. Peter had planned to leave early in the day to skate out over the new ice on Echo Bay. Those were his plans, but you know how plans go. His business had delayed him. He worked later that day than he expected, so he left later. He was compelled to make the journey at night.
But Peter enjoyed the feeling of exhilaration. His skates were sharp, his legs fit for a longer journey and the tang of the frost to him is what the spur is to a spirited horse. Peter felt like he was the only man on the ice that night, it was so peaceful. He was going to skate across the ice to attend the wedding of a friend, his best friend John. In fact—Peter was going to be his best man.
As he skated on that night, he began to have fancies. It seemed to him that he was enormously tall---a great Viking of the Northland skating over the icy fjords to his love. That reminded him that he had a love---a thought that was usually with him. To be sure he had not yet told her because he had seen her only a few times and had not had the opportunity. But she lived at Echo Bay and was going to be one of the bridesmaids at his friend’s wedding, which was another reason he skated as swiftly as the wind, and now and then shouted with exhilaration.
The drawback was that Julia’s family had money, and Julia lived in a fine house and wore otter skin jackets and satin-lined mink boots when she went sledding. These things made it almost impossible for Peter to say anything more than “I love you.” That much he intended to say no matter what came of it.
This determination grew on him as he sped along under the starlight. Venus, the love star, made a path to the west, but he had to turn his back on it and face northeast. Suddenly he felt as if he was not alone. His eyelashes were frosted and he thought maybe it was an illusion, but he rubbed his eyes and there he saw a tall white skater in fluttering garments who sped over the ice fast as ever a werewolf went. Peter called out “ Hey there, Hey out there, slow down, wait for me..” but there was no answer.
However fast he went, the skater went even faster. After a while he was convinced as he glanced at the North Star, that this white skater was leading him out of his direct path. He wondered if he should not keep to his planned route, but his strange companion seemed to draw him irresistibly—so he followed as if he were a magnet in the night. I don’t think this is a human, is what he thought. I wonder who she is, or—what she is, he thought to himself.
Up in those latitudes, people see strange things in winter. His own folks lived on Lake Superior and had told eerie tales. So Peter followed the white skater all night and when the ice flushed red at dawn, and arrows of lovely light shot up into the cold heavens----she---was---GONE! But Peter was at his destination. As he took off his skates he happened to look lakeward and saw a great open place where waves showed blue as sapphires beside the gleaming ice. “If I had gone along my intended path, watching the stars to guide me, as fast as I was going, looking up at the stars, I would certainly have gone into that cold grave. Oh my God, that white skater was my guardian angel," he said to himself.
Peter walked all the way to his friend’s house expecting to find all the gaiety and frolicking young people have before a wedding. But instead the groom, his best friend, met him with a solemn face. “Is this your wedding face?” asked Peter. “There’s going to be no wedding today,” said John. “Julia died last night.”
“Julia--?”
“Yes, she died last night. She had been skating in the afternoon, and came home chilled and wandering in her mind, and all the time she talked of you. We wondered what it meant. We did not know that you were lovers, but she said <