Old Sins Cast Long Shadows - Mystery of the horseman solved -- Or is it?

09 October 2021

1034

R. Linda:

It be said that many a ghost will walk the earth on All Hallows Eve. Maybe that be why they call it 'mischief night'. A few years ago I discovered that less-trodden path at the back of me property, and unnerving as that walk was, it was that experience that has kept me from going there (See The Road To Nowhere, 16 Oct. 2020). I've noticed our two outdoor cats either jump or quick step across that bit of sandy dirt and that alone keeps me from travelling it. Me curiosity be such that I have been tempted on sunny summer days to travel down and see if anything has changed, but prior attempts always ended in scaring the bejesus out of me and so I stay put.

I bring this up because not long ago, I went to the general store and the usual locals were sitting around a potbellied stove having a gabfest. I nodded hello, went about me ordering a sanny and drink and then perused the penny candy. I could overhear the old men around the stove talking and I tried not to listen, but well I couldn't help but hear them.

"Eyah I remembers Mick Maloney. I wuz a small boy and Mick wuz my fatha's workah when my granddad owned the storah heah. Bad end he had, eyah."

As I listened the hairs on the back of me neck stood up and to add to this the day had turned dark with a rumble of thunder. I looked up and when I did I caught the attention of the three men seated around the stove.

"Gabriel, ain't it?" One white-bearded old gent asked me. I remembered later his name was Jake.

"Gabe, yes," said I, "I don't mean to eavesdrop." I gestured helplessly.

"Com ere' an have a seat while ya wait." One of the others said, slapping his ancient hand on the only empty chair, and wouldn't you know it a crash of thunder filled the air as his hand slammed the seat. 

I went over feeling the heat in me face from being caught listening, and sat it down. I tried to apologise but they wouldn't hear of it. 

"Ye com in an no one can help but heah the talk ya know." Said the white bearded man and they all grunted and nodded like it was no biggy. 

I smiled sheepishly but could think of nothing to say.

"So this Mick," and the speaker leaned toward me and whispered, "No offence that was his name ya see."

"None taken," I smiled tentatively, "please go on."

"So Mick had a terrible habit of the drink ya see and he was a bit of a selfish man. He bragged about how he had com inta some money left him by a relative, an how he had wads a cash stashed on his person. Mind ye, not around his house, ON HIM. Well, as ya might think this caught the attention of the two local baddies and once they had the wind in their nostrils there wuz no stoppin' em' from thinkin' how all that money might benefit them.

"Now Mick musta had some cash because he bought himself a white mare to ride about town on and so it was thought at the time. Ya know he probably couldn't afford an automobile, so a horse was the next best thing -- and a flashy white one at that, couldn't miss it. Anyway, for about a week he rode that horse from one end of the village to the tother. Never was there a more prideful man than Mick. He sorta lorded it over those in the village that didn't have transportation, only their feet. This behaviour got the two baddies attention as well and they resented it! Yes, they did deep in their black hearts they were now more than evah out to do injury to Mr. Mick Maloney.

"Well, in the last week of October of that yar, Mick came upon the two men quite by accident it wuz said, but I don't think anythin' wuz by accident knowing about those two lawbreakers. They told Mick they had the best bootleg liquor money could buy and if he wuz interested he should meet em' in an outta the way place and they'd give him a bottle or two for a price. Now Mick liked his lickor he did, and his eyes sparkled and he sat up straighter on his pale horse and made the deal right then and theah.

"On the night afore Halloween (I remembers it well), it was said Mick rode his horse to the old revolutionary burial ground where the old soldiers are buried. The signal for the two to meet him theah wuz a lit jack o'lantern set on the old dilapidated bridge of the crik and one on General Fisk's grave being the tallest stone in the graveyard."

Wow, that perked me up big time (See Dragon gifts me Mam, who horrified, gifts me! 04 Feb 2018). I knew exactly where this was and I leaned forward to listen better, but the name Fisk came home in a resounding way. That was the grave marker Dragon bought me Mam that me Mam, in turn, handed off to me!

"So all this Mick had done, he got off his horse and sat with his back to the General's gravestone waiting while the only sound wuz his horse chomping grass. What happened next is sketchy at best and no one is really certain how events took place, BUT the two did show up it is said, drunk as skunks. There was some altercation from an already lickored up Mick about the booze being not what he was promised. In turn, the two fleeced him over for the wad of cash he bragged about keeping on his person. No wad of cash did they find and so they threatened his life if he didn't tell them wheah he had stashed it. He told them he lied, wuz no wad of cash and they asked him about the horse, how did he pay for that?! He didn't, he told em' the horse was on loan for two weeks and he wuz promised extra to take care of it while the owner wuz out of town. It wuz all a sham!

"Not believing him they threatened to chop off his head and he, not believing THEM, laughed in their faces. Well, if they meant it or not afore, they meant it then! One of the baddies reached for the old rusted sword that stood in memorial to General Fisk and in the heat of anger and betrayal he slashed Mick's throat and hacked until he had the head! Awful, awful I know, but that's what he did, being out of his mind with drink and anger. They gathered Mick up and tied him to the horse with his boot laces, slapped its romp and sent it flying down the old road to the village. The head no one evah found . . . nor the sword."

And he stopped, silence prevailed, all of us still hearing his last words banging around our heads. The rumble of thunder gentle now in the background, as if in respect for the dead.

"How terrible," I muttered. "This really happened?"

"Eyah it did. People saw that horse with its headless horseman and well, that's how the legend wuz born heah, right heah."

"Seems convenient the sword was handy," I commented being the newsman I be.

"That sword wuz nevah found along with the head, but I do remembah as a young boy seein' it at the old burial ground. It was the General's favourite sword and he wanted it placed next to his tombstone and so it wuz in a special granite sheath."

"Who was this General Fisk?" Again me news reporter hat was on.

"Don't quite know his storah. No one does anymah."

"They catch the two bad guys?" 

"Oh, they did indeed. Hung em' somewhere round heah. It is said their ghosts walk the old road looking for Mick who rides his horse every October 30 lookin' fer his head."

Hum, I thought this be crazy, they had to be in on all that headless horseman and pumpkin throwing at me at that bridge last year. I had gone to town hall and asked about all that and I never got a story like this! I was skeptical and why wouldn't I be after that tale?

The burial ground

Feeling kind of angry that I was duped, I told the three in so many words me story of the mile hike up that road with me eldest. They listened intently and convincingly like they were hearing it for the first time. I was confused. I had it in me head that there were three of them, just like there were three in the Mick Maloney story. But they were ancient, and I could not, for the life of me, see them riding a horse or lobbing pumpkins.

One of the men caught hold of the fabric on me sleeve and tugged for me attention. He leaned toward me and asked me in a quiet voice if I'd seen a face in the jack o'lantern on the old bridge.

I was taken aback. WHAT? I sort of smiled thinking he was pulling me leg, but he was serious and didn't move waiting for me to answer.

"Well, no but I didn't look," I said filled with dread and confusion.

He signalled all of us to lean together and he quietly said, "I have."

He looked, each of us intently in the face, his old bloodshot eyes serious. We nodded all round believing him.

"And you have too I reckon." The quiet man said to me as the other eyes watched me. But I didn't see a face, I never looked, but I could see they didn't believe me.

"Who's face did you see?" I asked the quiet man in a whisper.

"Mick's." He whispered back almost choking on the name.

I know what you're thinking they had me but good. But I am not so sure. They all got up saying nothing to each other and walked away. One to the back of the store to look at the magazines for sale, the other out the door and walking home, and the quiet man stood looking at the stove biting his lip as if he were afraid. 

And the thunder rumbled in the almost black sky. The rain came in buckets and I paid for me sanny and drink. I stood by the open door feeling the chill from the rain and I wondered.

Gabe

Copyright © 2021 All rights reserved

The Road To Nowhere

16 October 2020

1003

R. Linda:

“Stones have ears. Trees have eyes. Leaves have voices. Beasts tell lies. Beware the rain. Beware the snow. Beware the road you think you know."

About three years ago, quite by accident, I discovered a road behind me new home. The setter had got away from me and I followed her into the wood at the end of the back field behind the house. I could see flashes of her red and white self as she hunted, nose to the ground picking up a scent. I called but when she was in hunting mode (after all she was a bird dog), there was no stopping her. She'd follow the scent until she found and flushed out the bird or it simply disappeared. 

That morning she led me to a road I'd never seen or knew existed just beyond the woods that bordered my property. It was small, fit for three people to walk abreast, sandy grey with no weeds upon it and pristine. Deep woods abutted it on both sides, and looking ahead I could see the flash of my dog's tail as she followed the scent. I ran after her still calling and as I went quite a ways, I lost sight of her and saw before me a small and rickety covered bridge. Well, this was something. I went up to it and it was still sturdy but full of holes where the years of weather had damaged it. I went through it minding any holes in the flooring to the other side. I stood looking back at it wondering about it and the road that came out of nowhere and seemed to go nowhere.

I turned in time to see the flash of white ahead and took off after the still-hunting setter. I came up to a very old cemetery. I stopped thinking it odd that a cemetery this remote was even there, but this be New Hampshire, there are lots of these forgotten cemeteries. The pointy wrought iron gate was loose on its hinges but still latched. I opened the creaky thing and stepped inside. The markers were old and faded from the late 1700s. Names like Ezra, Josiah, Eli, and Ebenezer, I could read, the rest I could not. All the stones had sunk at angles into the ground over the years. All were overgrown with long brown grasses. It was unnerving to stand there in the quiet, only the wind whispering through the fading leaves making odd sounds. 

As I turned to leave, me dog came bounding up and I caught hold of her. I closed the old gate behind me as I left and looked down the road but it ended just beyond the graves. When I got back to the starting point I followed the road but it didn't go but 20 feet more. Hum, a road that went nowhere really and somehow was either maintained by someone or nature tended it on her own. 

I looked at the plot plan, I looked at maps of the town and nothing could I find. There for all intents and purposes, a road should not exist. The graveyard I did find and the family had all died out, so it was never tended to. The bridge was not on the map at all. I mentioned this but no one, even native Ben knew anything about the road. Last year when me middle kiddo had a school assignment to hike a mile I thought of the road. The road was about a mile long or so. I suggested we take the walk there and my boy was all about it, but he decided instead, to hike on the old railroad bed with his friends. Now before this, that winter I had taken the other hound for a walk and knowing there was a strip of road in the woods, I took him there. It had snowed and we walked the road following the white path. I noticed the silence that surrounded me. It was eerie, R. Linda, it rather made me nervous, it felt like we were being watched but in the whiteness, I could see no one. 

Occasionally a gust of cold wind would blow up and snowflakes would scurry in our path. It felt bone-chilling and to be honest I turned around sooner than I was going to and headed home. The silence was all-encompassing, no birds, no sounds of anything, just that overwhelming silence.

The next time I attempted it was early spring when the green shoots were ready to burst forth on the trees. The sound of tree frogs seemed to get louder the closer to the old covered bridge I got. The cacophony was overpowering and I felt as though the frogs were going to jump out of the trees and .  . . well you get the creepy idea. A cold rain beat down on me, soaking me to the skin by the time I got home. The smooth surface of some of the large rocks tumbled before me as if they heard me coming as I skirted them home. Those rocks were weird, all smooth like river stone but they were not that. They were slippery and a few times I almost tripped. Again, I felt like the stones could feel me coming and were out to get me. Stupid thought I know, but I can't explain any other feeling but that one.

The last time I was on the road, was in the summer (me and the hound again, I didn't trust the setter to run off on me), and this time at sunset. The crickets chirped at first, but as soon as I got to that bridge the sound was deafening. We turned around, even the dog didn't want to go any further. On the walk back the atmosphere was spooky with the waning light. The trees seemed to be watching, or at least it felt like that, measuring each step I took back with some chant from the leaves I could not catch. The hooting of an owl caused me to almost jump out of me skin. I hustled back home as quick as I could. There was something about that road.

O'Hare, on hearing about this, was all about us hiking the road together. We decided to hike at night. The day had been caught up in Halloween (which is a big occasion at my house, I know any excuse for a celebration), and so it was late and I was going to call the hike off but O'Hare was wired on candy and ready to go. 

He knew of the road but had never seen it, because I did tell him of its existence, but never my experiences on it.

"Where did this come from?" He looked around himself in amazement. "It is all forest and here is this strip of path?"

Yes, indeed I agreed and we set off torches (flashlights to Americans) in hand. The night had a chill to it, perfect for Hallowmas, we walked at a good pace, O'Hare chatting about trick or treating and then suddenly he went quiet.

"Da, do you see a light up ahead?" 

Yes, I did, it had an orange glow to it and as we walked towards it we squinted our eyes trying to make out if someone was ahead of us. As we approached the bridge, we could see a Jack o'lantern wedged in one of the bridge posts. 

"No one here," O'Hare said, and then he shouted, "Hello?"

No answer. We listened, O'Hare's shout vibrating in the still air. The air was chilled around our heads, the silence deafening. I urged him to start ahead and leave the lit pumpkin alone. As we rounded the curve in the road we both saw at the same time, lights up ahead. 

"More pumpkins, I think," I said.

And, I was correct as we got to the cemetery each slanted headstone had a Jack o'lantern resting on it.

"Wow! What is this?" O'Hare said looking spooked. "A cemetery? Is it real?" He asked me.

"Yes, and I don't know who would do this," I said.

"Did you?" He looked at me slyly.

"No, I swear," I said raising me right hand.

"Then?"

"I don't know," I said. 

"Can we go home? I don't like this, I don't like it here."

"Yes, let's go," I said and we turned back looking at the fading lights over our shoulders. We were silent for the most part, the wind had picked up along with our pace, and the darkness seemed darker if possible. The forest on both sides of the road was black. Occasionally we'd hear a sound in the woods, but what it was, we did not know nor did we mince steps. It seemed to take a long time to come to the covered bridge. I could see the candle flame reflected in the brackish water as we approached. The Jack o'lantern was still alight and the flame flickering wildly in the wind.

"Headless horseman," O'Hare said making me stop in my tracks. I looked at him in wonder. Had he heard something? He saw me look and pointed into the woods. There, not more than thirty feet, in the dark was something aglow, it was big and I could hear the hooves crunching the pinecone needles on the forest floor. A horse, a white horse I could just make it out. There was no moonlight, so it was hard to see at first but once my eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the forest I could just make it out.

"I think we should . . . we should . . . RUN!" O'Hare said taking off but I caught his arm and held him back. "Are you crazy? We need to get out of here ASAP but not call attention to ourselves!" He said pulling to get out of me grasp.

"No, wait, watch I saw a light," I said, me eyes focused on the moving animal. I had seen a light and then as I turned O'Hare towards the horse another pumpkin lit up high like someone holding it aloft. "OK, now we run," I said and we took off to the sound of hooves reaching the road. We both looked back but the horseman didn't come any further than the apron of the bridge. We heard a deep-throated laugh and then it was gone, but the pumpkin had been hurtled our way. It missed us of course as we had distanced ourselves fitfully. It smashed, the light went out and that was it. Quiet reigned.

We had stopped running and were panting for breath. 

"What was that?" O'Hare managed to ask.

"If it's the headless horseman, he's way away from Tarrytown."

In our nervousness, we made jokes about that until it all settled in our brain what had occurred. We walked in silence, and when in a state of fear and relief all at once one's senses take note of one's surroundings. It was dark, very dark, a coyote howled. Chills ran up our spines at the sound and our pace quickened more. 

By the time we came to the place in the woods that led to our house, the trees seemed to watch us and the leaves voiced whispers in the chill breeze. Both of us gave a shiver to shake off the feeling but it stayed with us until we got inside. 

No one was awake to hear of our adventure, and by the morning's light it seemed silly to tell the tale, but we did and got excited and enthused. 

"I wanna see this." Guido voiced and so we decided to take anyone who was interested in a hike to the cemetery to see the pumpkins and the smashed pumpkin by the bridge. 

We all chattered like magpies up the road which stunned the ladies of the house that it existed so close to the house and no one knew of it. The leaves danced in the wind as we walked, the trees swayed at their tops, and the sun made the fallen leaves a palette of colour at our feet. It was a beautiful November 1! As we neared the bridge, O'Hare and I could see the pumpkin on the bridge was gone and so was the smashed pumpkin. 

"Oh, you Halloween dreamers," Tonya said smiling at us.

"No, wait Mom. Come see the cemetery." O'Hare said jogging down the road.

We got there to find him standing in the middle of it looking confused. Not one Jack o'lantern to be seen. What had happened? We felt like fools we did. We scoured the cemetery and even Tonya remarked there was no disturbance of the long grass to indicate a person had walked through there. She was right, so how?

It was a few days later I took the setter for a short walk on THE road and as I got to the bridge I kicked some of the stones around and after about fifteen minutes was rewarded with two pumpkin seeds! Aha! So it wasn't our "vivid imaginations." 

I put the seeds in me pocket and took them back to the abode as proof, but no one (even O'Hare) believed I had found them by the bridge. 

"I bet if the ground hadn't been so hard we'd have found horse tracks," I said with some confidence.

That was me last effort. They all shook their heads and left me with seeds in hand. Well, I planted those seeds I'll have you know, and five pumpkins are growing from the two stems. So there! 

I have not been back there since. Though I am tempted this Halloween to take THE WALK. I have no clue who played a jape on us or what did, do you?

                                                                     TRICK OR TREAT!

Gabe

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