"TATTLES"

 

        There are things beyond my understanding.  Life, death, heaven and hell have all been laid out in front of me, but never explained.  I have gone through life believing in Jesus and life after death without questioning, because my faith is part of who I am.  I can’t explain what was happening. 

 

    If you are reading this then you have already opened your mind to the unknown.  Don’t ignore the signs, the noises or the shadows because they could be trying to talk to you.  They reached out to me and I could not hide from them.  This is how it started.

 

    The sound of the tires skidding on the pavement took away my heart.  My house is in a small town called Peterson and I live thirty feet from the highway.  I have heard the noise so many times before.  Cars travel far too fast and the animals who cross the pavement have a very slim chance of a long life. 

 

    My puppy was named Tattles.  I called him that because no one could do anything without him barking and letting everyone in the house know what was happening.  He normally stayed inside, but that sixth sense told me that he was now gone.

 

    I ran to the door when I didn’t feel him beneath my feet.  My heart broke when I saw him lying still in the road.  His black and white fur still blew in the wind and when the other cars past over him, it still looked as if nothing had happened.  I really don’t remember looking at the road.  All I knew is that he was in my arms and there was no life in him.  My tears fell on his fur.  I know it is bad for a grown man to cry but I loved that dog. 

 

    The vehicle that ran over him didn’t have the decency to stop.  It was for the best, because I would have twisted his neck like a pretzel.  I know people think I’m crazy.  They are afraid of me because I have been known to hurt people when they make me angry.  The only thing I could do to relieve my suffering was to put my little friend to rest.

 

    I sat Tattles down on the porch thinking that he may follow me to the shed, but there was nothing.  I brought his favorite blanket and his toys with me to bury him. 

 

    The four-wheeler carried everything easily.  I placed the strap across his little body and the other things to make sure they didn’t fall off.  Any other time, he would be sitting on the seat with his front paws on the handle bars.  He was really a sight and he loved every minute as much as I did.  It made me sad to think that this was his last ride.

 

    I knew a place back in the woods.  It was an old home site that had been abandoned back in the early 1900s, but to this day tulips and other flowers grow wild.  The site was beautiful. 

 

    “Tattles will like it here.”  I thought to myself as I pulled up. 

 

    There was nothing left of the old home, just the rocks which outlined the old well.  It looked like a perfect spot for him to rest.  It didn’t take much digging, he was a small puppy and my weight on the shovel made it easy.  The red bricks of the well made the perfect tombstone.  I wrapped him in the blanket and placed his toys with him.  

 

    I stood above him as I smoothed out the dirt.  It took everything I had not to break down and cry.  The tears still escaped.

 

    “Lord, I hope he brings as much joy to you as he did me.”

 

    A cold breeze swept across my neck.  That was strange in Alabama, because it was 99 degrees in the shade.  I felt a presence around me that touched my soul.

 

    The light gust seemed to bring a message to my ears.  Beside the touch of the wind, there was a whisper.

 

    “Did you bring me a puppy?”

 

    I stood up straight.  My fingers gripped the shovel.  No one was around me. 

 

    “Who said that?”  No one answered me and I was glad.

 

    Then something touched my hand, I knew what it was.  It was tiny fingers, cold as ice.  A vision flashed in my mind.  It was a young girl.  Her jet-black hair was wet and hung down over her dark eyes.  I jerked my fingers back and looked beside me expecting to see something, but the space was empty.  I tried to move but couldn’t.  Whatever it was had control of me and held me there motionless. 

 

    “AHHHHHHHH”, the scream finally came out.

  

    The entity released me and I fell backwards on to the ground.  My feet were moving as fast as I could, but my stomach was twisted.  All that I could manage was to crawl sideways.  I finally pushed myself up and got to the four-wheeler.  I left the shovel and went home.  When I sat down on the couch, I saw that I had peed in my pants.   Whatever touched me wasn’t of this world. 

 

    I sat there thinking about what happened all afternoon.  It was now dark and the pee on my pants was a dry stain.  Dinner and Supper had passed and I still wasn’t hungry.  I knew that I must be in shock.  My legs moved reluctantly and I stood to go shower.  The clothes fell on the floor into a pile, underwear inside my pants and socks sticking out the bottom of the legs.  I tossed the to the side without regard. 

 

    The water was so hot that it burned my skin, but I wanted it that way.  Something had to bring me out of this. 

 

    “Squeak”, the sound came from down the hall.  No one else was in my house. 

 

    “Squeak, Squeak”, it sounded once more. 

 

    The sound of nails clicking on the floor was unnerving.  Chills ran down my spine.  It was unmistakable.  It was Tattles.  He was play growling as if someone was pulling on his toy, trying to wrestle it away.

 

    I turned off the shower. Steam rose off my skin as the giggle of a little girl caused chills to form on my back.  I tried not to make a sound, but my breathing was scattered.  The towel fit around me and the water on my feet dried on the bathroom carpet.  Slowly I walked through the open door and into the hallway.  The air was cold as ice.  My breath formed a mist as I came into the living room.  It was dark, but I could clearly see the outline of a young girl in the kitchen.  My hand fumbled for the light.  When it came on, there was no one.

 

    “She was standing right there.”  I said out loud. 

  

    Slowly I walked into the kitchen.  A puddle of water lay where the young girl stood.  Wet footprints of the girl and a dog were visible all over. 

 

    “It can’t be.”  In the middle of the trail was Tattles favorite toy.  I picked it up and looked around the room.  The cold air had dissipated and the two of them were gone.

 

    I knew I had to eat something.  My stomach was making noises, but i had no appetite.  The food, although tasteless, calmed my nerves and I felt silly for dreaming up all those things.  My grief over Tattles death must have played on my subconscious mind. 

 

   The darkness in my bedroom was impenetrable.  Only the static lightning moving across the outside clouds broke the empty solitude of the sky.  I tossed and turned in my sleep, dreaming that I had found the man responsible for killing my dog.  He could not understand what the dog meant to me, but I didn’t care.  I put my hands around his neck and watched his eyes as he struggled for air.

 

   My dream was interrupted by my face being licked.  It was not the first-time Tattles woke me like that to take him out. 

 

    “Stop buddy, stop.”  I realized that Tattles was dead, it wasn’t him, only a dream.  I clinched my eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears.  Water fell upon my face.  The stench of rotting flesh clogged my sinuses. 

 

    “Thanks for the puppy mister.  What is his name?”

 

    I opened my eyes and the young girl’s wet hair laid on my face.  Patches of skin clung  to her cheek bones.  Her breath escaped from her throat making a hoarse sound as it came from her mouth.  The cold dampness of her hands laying upon my chest was more than I could take.

 

     I knew the scream that I released could be heard for miles.  It wasn’t a man’s scream, but one from deep into the grave for which she took me.

 

    I pushed her away and fell off the bed.  I curled up on the floor sobbing in fear.  The things she presented in my mind were horrifying. 

 

    I saw her tiny body mutilated by someone in the basement of a house and then it falling into a well.  Water rose up six feet in the air as her body displaced the liquid.  Her eyes were still open looking out at the stars, as he sank to the bottom.

 

    Barking, incessant barking was coming from outside the bedroom window.  My tears stopped and I opened my eyes, as I realized it was tattles.  I stood and peered out at him.  He was standing by the young girl going around in circles barking at me.  He was trying to tell me who did it.

 

   Anger rose inside me as I dressed.  Slowly, I took the hunting knife out of my closet.  The blade was sharp as a razor.  I opened the door and walked outside to the shed and took out a hatchet.   I could see the girl in the distant.  Tattles was jumping a foot in the air, trying to get me to follow him. 

 

    The darkness concealed me as I followed the two of them beside highway 216.  I walked along the bank as they led me toward the person who was responsible.  I came upon a group of houses.  Tattles ran around in circles as the girl stared at Tattles.

 

    Lightening illuminated the surrounding area as I looked inside the window.  The glass pane reflected my face.  I didn’t recognize the person who stared back at me. My flesh seemed twisted and my eyes peered out like a man possessed. 

 

    Slowly I stepped upon the porch and lowered my hands to the knob and turned.  It opened and I was not surprised, no one in Peterson locks their door.  I made my way to the back of the house where the couple lay sleeping.  Quietly, I stepped up to the side of the bed.  The knife would be used first, cutting his throat.  There would be no screams and his wife would be relieved from the snoring.  I would use the small ax on her if she awoke.  Even though she may not be involved, she allowed him to do it. 

 

    I took the knife out and lay the tip of the blade on his throat.  He never moved.  Lightening flashed and I could see the young girl, still naked and wet standing outside the window.  Tattles was sitting watching.  The girls head moved slowly telling me no.  I looked down at the man below me. 

 

    “It had to be him.   This was the house.”  I looked to the girl once more and she moved her hands motioning  for me to follow her.

 

    I removed the knife from his throat and walked toward the door.  For a moment, I thought that maybe I should take his life.  Tattles was never wrong.  Maybe it was the man who ran over him.  The anger returned, but I thought tonight was for the girl. 

 

    “I will come back.”  I said as I left the house. 

 

    The man turned on his side.  A small spot of blood formed on his neck where the knife had laid.

 

    I followed them two more blocks before Tattles began barking once more.  The young girl steeped up on the porch.  I knew this was the one.  She stared at the door as I stepped past her.  The television was on in the living room.  I could hear the sexual groans of a female having sex.  This time the door was locked so I rang the doorbell.  I could hear a man swearing as he was walked to where I stood.   I placed the knife and hatchet behind me.  The abused child looked me in the eye as the man opened the door.

 

    “You better have a good reason for knocking on my door this late at night.  It better be life or death.”  His voice trailed off as he glared at my face.  His eyes opened wide as panic set in.

 

    I looked down at Tattles standing beside the child and I looked back at him. 

 

    “Do you know this girl?”  I asked.  My voice gurgled and was unfamiliar. 

 

    The ghost hissed at him and her face distorted.  Her body moved fast and it looked as if she flew straight through him.  The knife entered his belly and I shoved it as far into him as I could get it. 

 

    He fell backwards onto the floor, his erect penis made an impression on his underwear.  I looked at the television.  A child was being molested.  She was tied up and naked men and women stood all around her.

 

    He looked up at me as I changed the hatchet to my right hand.  It was justice and I knew I had been chosen to impose it.  The blade didn’t stop until it reached his spine.
 

    I drug him from the house into the woods.  It took me an hour to get back with the four wheeler.  The noose in the rope fit around his neck and I had no problem pulling him to the house site where he disposed of the girl.  I threw his mutilated body into the well, the same as he did the young girl.  I stood there watching her play with Tattles.  I think the song was Ring around the Rosie.  She seemed to be happy as I drove away.

 

    I sit here now, writing this letter because I don’t know how to explain what happened.  No one ever found the body of the man who lived down the road or the man who murdered him.  They also never found the little girl who had been missing for two years.  I visit the grave of my precious Tattles occasionally.  He continues to come to my window at night wanting me to avenge his death.  Don’t be frightened.  You have nothing to worry about, unless you ran over a dog on Hwy 216. 

 

Author:  Huffman Monk