witches of methville

8/4/2019 Witches of Methville

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Witches of Methville

By Kevin E Lake

Copyright Kevin E Lake 2011

Hi Susan, the old man said, tipping his top hat to the young lady in her early

twenties passing him on the side walk. She walked by as if he wasnt there, sniffling as if

pestered by an unseen allergen, truth being, her sniffles a sign of her addiction. Her face

was pale, boney and gaunt, her eyes sunken. Her once flowing, long blond hair was now a

rats nest. What had been the homecoming queen of her senior class five years before was

now zombie like; the walking dead.

Oh God, Susan. Not you too, he said, turning to watch her pass, taking the

handkerchief from his hip pocket. He wiped the sweet from his brow, brought about by the

humid July evening. The girl continued down the sidewalk, completely unaware of her

surroundings. He doubted she knew the time of day, the day of the week or what world she

was in. He knew she had two babies, three years and one year old, somewhere. Was anyone

with them?

The old man continued walking, into the sunset, the city hall of the small town of

Mettsville, Kentucky his destination.

Bob, his friend Dan, Mettsvilles mayor said as the old man entered the small office

in city hall. Imglad you could come on such short notice.

No problem Dan. Im ninety oneyears old and this is Mettsville. Its not like I had

other, pressing issues to attend to. The only things I attend much at all anymore are friends

funerals.


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He took off his top hat, placing it on his lap as he sat on the other side of the mayors

desk. Though quite hot here in southern Kentucky during the summer months, he wore his

hat any time he went out. It was a custom he had gotten used to when he was a young man

in simpler times. So what can I do ya for?

We had our monthly city council meeting last night, the mayor said, adjusting hisposition in his chair. Things are not good.

Ah, said Bob, reaching into his chest pocket, pulling out his check book. So you

need more money?

Bob had owned and operated the largest coal mine in southern Kentucky before he

retired twenty years before. When he decided to stop working, he sold the mine, getting the

equivalency of most third world countries total GDP for it.

People wondered why he simply hadnt retained ownership of the mine, living off of

profits, or pass the mine on to his son who had been living on the west coast for the past

twenty years. Since he single handedly kept the town of Mettsville afloat with his personal

wealth during hard times few people asked any questions.

No Bob, the mayor, early sixties, said. It is bigger than that.

Do tell, Bob said, leaning back, becoming more comfortable in his seat.

Look. The mayor said, spreading his arms body width, jazz hands. Weve lost two

more small businesses. People are tired of the break ins. They cant afford the losses.

More business break-ins? Bob said, eyes wide. I thoughtthe trash was pretty

much sticking to robbing us old people on medication these days; digging through trash

cans for prescription bottles so theyd know who to hit.

Oh, theres still plenty of that, Dan said, putting his hands on his knees, his head

down. Its gotten so out of control. No one is safe. The worst part is what this crap is doing

to our young people here in Mettsville. Hell, they call us Methville anymore in most places

in this part of the state.

The mayor stood up, walked to a shelf behind his old friend. Bob turned to look as

Dan took a picture of the graduating class from Mettsville High School twenty years before.

Dans son had graduated third in the class.

There are one hundred and twenty kids in this picture, Bob. I can go through the

faces and point out twenty teachers, six lawyers, four doctors, nearly three dozen business

owners- even an actor.


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Yeah, Bob said, a smile tugging at his mouth. Bill and Karens kid. I saw his last

movie. Have you seen that singer he married?

Yeah, Dan said, putting the picture back on his shelf, taking up another. Billy J.

told me hed introduce me to her if he ever brought her here.

Dan made his way back to his chair at his desk, looking at the picture he had taken

from the shelf.

This is the graduating class from five years ago, he said, turning it so Bob could see

it. There are only sixty kids in this picture. The towns population has suffered so much

because of the economy. We can directly attribute the economies decline to this drug

problem.

Yeah, Ive been here most of mylife, Bobsaid. Weve had tough times before but

weve always made it through. This mess. This pill problem and meth non-sense; its killed

us.

Out of these sixty kids, Dan said, turning the picture back around, I can only pick

out three that I know have finished college. Twice as many as that are already dead. Twice

that amount are in jail.

Bob rose from his seat and walked over to Dans desk. Peering over his shoulder at

the picture, he found a beautiful blond girl, tapped her head with the end of his index finger.

I just saw Susan here on the street on my way down, he said. Ive known this girl

her whole life. She grew up right across the street from me. She always won all the beautypageants in the county. Shes a druggie now; moved back in with her folks a year or so ago.

Worse than that, Dan said, turning to look up at his friend. For twenty five dollars

shell rentyou her body for any purpose you desire. All so she can get her next fix.

You are kidding me! Bob said, disgusted. He walked back to his seat. He sat

silently, as did Dan for several minutes, both men deep in thought.

So what are we going to do about it, Dan?

That brings me to why I called you here Bob. Is your grandmother and her sistersstill alive?

No, Bob said.

Theyre dead?


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No, they are not dead. They are still very much alive. What I mean is no, we cant

go that route.

Its the only avenue we have left Bob. Even my police force will do nothing. The

handful of doctors left in the county, the very ones handing out these pain pills have paid

the cops off to look the other way.

Its the only remaining auto-dealership thats bringing the rest of the garbage in

from all across the eastern seaboard. Hell, it doesnt take a genius to see thatevery morning

they take out the exact same cars they trucked in the day before. They havent taken a car

off a carrier in a year. All they do is change the tires. Thats wheretheyre hiding the drugs.

They take their meth and pills and other garbage out before sending the truck back for

another load. I cant even begin to tell you how many meth labs are within a five minute

walk of where we are sitting! The state troopers took dogs into the high school last month

to sniff lockers and had nine lockers turn up positive just from the scent of the labs on the

kids backpacks and jackets! Thats the home life so many of them go home to everyday.

You remember what happened the last time we went to my grandmother and great

aunts for help, Dan. Bob looked up with his eyes only, his head still down. It was an

ominous look that matched the tone of his voice.

We were not specific enough with them that time, Dan said. We just told them

that the largest bumper crop of marijuana was due to mature in a month and it would

destroy the town.

And they destroyed the town instead, killing nearly a dozen people in the flood.

Oh, they didnt cause the dam to break! Thats Crazy, Dan said, referring to the

former earthen dam that blocked the river ten miles above the small, secluded, Appalachian

town, providing its water shed. It wasnt a strong structure. It had rained so much that

spring, hence the success ofthe marijuana farmers. The dam simply wasnt constructed to

hold that much water. It was old and should have been replaced a generation before

anyway. It was all merely a coincidence.

It was no coincidence, Bob said, his head now rising, his voice lowering. They

have a sick, twisted sense of humor. You always have to be careful what you ask for with

them because youll ALWAYS get it. Its been twenty years since that flood. People are still

reeling from loses.

Minus the deaths, Dan said, his right hand waving in the air as if he were trying to

erase Bobs thoughts, look at the good it did. The marijuana crops were destroyed. The

governor declared a state of emergency. We even got federal money for it. We got new

buildings, new streets and sidewalks; even two new schools. Not to mention a new, state of


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the art dam. People had jobs due to the reconstruction. Hell, if I remember, you got a couple

pity business contracts from the state that made you an even richer man by the time you

retired.

Are you willing to live with the fallout of our actions if we call on them? Bob said,

his voice now higher, one eyebrow raised.

Yes, Dan said. Besides, no one will know weve gone. They are just the subject of

an old, local wives tale anyway.

If you can live with your conscience, then Ill take you to them. Well ask them for

help.

Can we go tomorrow? Do you get up early? Dan was excited.

Of course Ido, Bob said. Im ninety one years old. I rise with the sun to make sure

its not the bright light at the end of some tunnel.

Great, Dansaid, rushing over to shake Bobshand. Ill pick you up at 6:00 a.m.

#

You know this old woman isnt really my grandmother, dont you? Bob said, riding

shot gun in Dans oldfour wheel drive Ford. It was the beater he used for such purposes;driving into rough, secluded sections of the surrounding Appalachian forest, be it to hunt,

fish or camp with the grandkids. They were certainly traveling to a secluded part of the

forest today, but not for recreation. Her sisters are not my great aunts.

Common sense would lead you that that fact, Dan said just before taking a sip from

his coffee, fresh and hot from the seven eleven. I always just assumed they were family

friends who took care of you when your parents died. There is no way they could be two

generations ahead of you. That would make them a hundred and fifty years old. They are

not a hundred and fifty years old.

No, they arent, Bob said, sipping his coffee as well. The truck left the hard top,

traveling now on a graveled county road.

So how old are they? Dan said, placing his coffee cup in the console of the old Ford.

A little older than you?


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No, Bob said, slowly taking another sip from his cup, a pause for effect. They are

three hundred and fifty years old.

The truck bounced hard. Dan missed swerving around a large pot hole, having

looked to his right as his friend spoke last.

Why dont you watch where youre going, Bob said, still looking straight ahead

through the windshield. These old bones have grown soft.

Did you just say they were three hundred and fifty years old?

Yup.

Are you senile?

A little I guess. Who isnt at my age?

Ok, Dan said, facing forward. That explains it.

Explains what? Bob said, now looking toward his friend.

Youre comment. How old are they really?

My mental health or lack thereof has nothing to do with their age. The old hags are

at least three hundred and fifty years old. Hell, they might be older.

What are you talking about Bob?

Listen, Bob said as the truckleft the graveled county road for a dirt path headingup a steep hill. The road was barely more than a deer trail. Dan locked in the trucks four

wheel drive as he began the accent. They are of no relation to me whatsoever, and trust

me they are no friends of anyone.

Thats the story I always heard. When your father and mother were killed somehow

during the great depression one of their friends and her sisters took you in to raise as their

own.

Maybe I should fill in the holes of the stories youve heard about me and these

women before we get there. You might just change your mind about all this and decide toturn around.

What? Dan said, maneuvering the old truck through the trail, unnecessarily

ducking his head as limbs scratched the top of the cab. What story?

My father drank too much. My mother came to the old women pleading for help.

She had heard about them from someone who claimed they had cured her husband of the


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same malady a generation before. I suppose they were the subject of an old wives tale back

then as well. They were old then too by the way.

Seriously? Dan said, slowing down to fjord a small stream. So they were thought

of as Shaman? Witch doctors?

Witches, more like it, Bob said, grabbing the Oh my God handle above the inside

of the trucks window, supporting himself as the truck bounced on the rocks on the bottom

of the stream. Listen for their New England accents when we talk to them. I believe they

fled south during the witch trials.

So, why did your mother go to them? She must have had her suspicions?

She was at her wits end. She heard they could help. They told her that they would

make sure my father never drank again. The condition was that if anything ever happened

to both her and my father that they could have me as their own.

So what happened? Dan said, making a sharp turn at the top of the mountain, no w

driving down hill, a steep hollow.

You are not going to believe this, Bob said, looking out the side window again,

water splashed there from the stream streaking down like strands of a spiders web.

Im kind of having a hard time believing any of this, Bob.

That was January 16th, 1920. Does that date ring a bell to you? It should. Youre a

politician.

No? Dan said, more a question than a statement.

The next day, January 17th, 1920, prohibition started in the U.S.

No way! Dan said, looking over to Bob again, missing a rock in the road, another

bump. Bob reached for the Oh my God handle again, wincing.

So thats why your father never drank again. Prohibition. He couldnt buy it.

It isnt that simple, Dan, Bob said, his eyes glazing over with memory. A few days

after the country went dry, my father heard about the speak easies that were popping upeverywhere. He found out where one was and stormed off one night for a drink. My mother

chased after him. They got in the door of the place just before the Feds.

What happened? Dan asked, paying attention to the road again, though completely

engrossed in his friends story.


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Shots rang out. My parents were killed. They were in the wrong place at the wrong

time. Oh, and in violation of federal law so nothing was ever done about their deaths.

So the old women got you.

Yes, Bob said, looking out the window to his right, the area becoming morefamiliar to him now as they neared their destination. It was a place he had spent many

years during his youth, but to which he had rarely returned as an adult in spite of all the

years that had passed.

I have never heard this story in all my years in Mettsville, Dan said. That would be

all sixty eight of my years, minus the four I was away in college and four in the army during

Nam.

Ive never told anyone, Bob said. I mean the truth about the old women that is.

Everyone knew they raised me, but like you, everyone just assumed they were friends of

the family. I just let people think that.

So what was it like? Growing up with witches?

Look at that, Bob said, pointing through the windshield. A hen turkey and six half

grown chicks were making their way across the trail ahead of them. I stayed gone a lot.

The older I got the more I was gone.

I ran away from home at sixteen. I lied to the government about my age and joined

the army. War had already broken out again in Europe. I guess our rich Uncle Sam knew it

was just a matter of time before wed get involved. They didnt mind taking me and manyothers who were nothing more than boys who just started shaving. They were thankful

they did a few years later when we joined in on the war. I thought for sure Id end up in

France, his eyes glazed with memory. But I ended up in the south Pacific.

But you came back? Dan said, slowly easing forward again now that the small flock

of birds had passed. Why?

I was grown, Bob said, voice confident. I had some money in my pocket. Besides,

the government started the G.I. Bill. You could either go to college or be given land. I took

the land and started my coal mine.

So they must have helped you in some way? Dan said, referring to the alleged

witches. Are they responsible for your success in business?

Unfortunately, they are.

How so?


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I went to them when I wasnt making a dime. I was thinking about selling out. I was

so far in debt I would have never amounted to anything. I asked them to fix my business.

They did. But they did it their way.

I heard you guys got a big break somehow after the disaster in the early fifties that

killed nearly fifty men. Is that when you went to them for help?

I went before that, Bob said, resting his head in his hand, painful memories

rushing through his head. The disaster WAS the break.

I dont follow you, Bob?

We were digging and digging and only hitting small veins, he said, shaking his

head, still in his hand. We were extracting coal, but at a loss. I went to them and asked if

theyd allow us to hit a mother load.

And?

And when the mine caved in, killing all the men, it left literally half the mountain

exposed. That half just happened to be nothing but coal just below the grounds surface.

That single deposit made me a millionaire over the next two months! And thats nineteen

fifties money! A million dollars was a lot more back then than it is now. The collapse

opened a world of wealth to me but claimed the lives of the best men Id been in company

with since the war.

A moment of silence passed. Bob looked to his friend. Dan still faced forward, not as

much focusing on the road as allowing the story sink in.

Its why I sold the mines, Dan. I know every dollar I ever made after that was

nothing more than blood money. I was not going to pass that evil on to my son.

The truck slowed at the bottom of the hollow. One last ascent remained; half a mile

straight to the top. The three sisters lived on the next flat, just out of sight.

The men stared ahead of them, up the hill. All the trees from this point on where not

only dead but appeared as if they had been destroyed by fire. However, there had not been

a forest fire on this mountain in recorded history. A deers skull hung from a tree limb in

the middle of the trail; one antler with six tines, the other missing.

Dark clouds covered the sun on what had otherwise been a beautiful summer

morning. Though it had begun to be another hot, muggy July day, the temperature seemed

to have dropped by more than ten degrees since leaving town. Bob knew there was more to

attribute to this fact than the shade of the forest.


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Its not too late to change our minds, Bob said, looking over at his friend, Dans face

stoic.

We have to do something, Dan said, now turning to face Bob. I have grandkids at

Mettsville High. I want them to know the town we knew, not the one it is.

They wont be happy to see me, Bob said. They think Ive been ungrateful for

rarely coming by.

Are we in danger?

They wont hurt us here, Bob said. They dont want the attention. But like I told

you last night, we need to be prepared to accept responsibility for anything that happens.

Both men stared straight ahead, the deer skull swaying in a light breeze. The breeze

brought with it the stench of death. Perhaps rotting animal corpses close by. Perhaps

something else.

The truck slowly moved forward, beginning the final climb, Dans mind made up.

#

The child returns, the hideously ugly, humped back woman said, her eyes white

with blindness.

We knewhe would, said another, equally ugly woman beside her. They sat at a

small table in the center of a stone house, hand built only God knows when. The cabin was

sparse, containing only the table with three chairs, a large mattress on one side of the

twelve feet by twelve feet room, with a small shelf with assorted knick knacks beside it, and

a large fireplace on the other. The fireplace contained a grill and a kettle. It kept the house

warm and allowed the women to prepare their meals. A back up coal stove sat against a

third wall, its vent pipe installed to join the fireplaces chimney halfway up.

Theres my so called grandmother, Bob said , pointing at the old lady in front of the

cabin. She appeared to be pulling guard for the other two.

It looks like shes been waiting on us, Dan said, a whisper.

She has been, Bob said, grabbing the handle of the door as Dan put the truckin

park and killed the engine.


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To what do we owe the honor, boy? the old lady said, approaching Bob. She was

petite, five feet tall and ninety pounds at most. She was slightly bent over, though not as

bad as her blind sister. Dan could indeed hear the lazy r at the end of the word honor;

evidence of her New England heritage.

We need your help, Grandmother.

Ah ha ha ha ha, she laughed, throwing her head back. It was the closestthing to a

real witchs cackle Dan had ever heard. Bob caught Dan shuddering out of the corner of his

eye, chills running down the mayors spine.

The two other women came from the house, the one with sight leading the blind.

You only come when you need help, boy! the blind woman said, bitterness in her

voice.

Im sorry, Bob said, putting his head down, the scars of the child being scolded bythe women returning to the surface as if they had not been buried by so many years of

absence.

Yes you are! the original woman to greet them said. You sold our coal!

That was a long time ago, Mam, Dan said, leaning forward as if he were going to

take a step. Too afraid to do so he rested on his heels again.

Shut your mouth, politician! the woman said, spit spewing from the sides of her

mouth. She raised a gnarled finger, pointed it in his direction, but did not look at him.

How can we help you, dear boy? the lady who had led her blind sister out of the

house said, walking up to Bob, taking his hand in hers. Her hand was as cold as death.

Our town has been overrun by drugs and drug addicts, Bob said, knowing the old

lady was playing good witch. We need help cleaning the place up.

Drugs? said the blind lady, stepping forward as if she could see. Dans eyes grew

wide, thoughts in his head telling him she COULD see, just in different ways than he. As if

she needed not her eyes. What kind of drugs?

Mostly meth, Dan said, the blind womans head snapping quickly in his direction,

giving him another chill. It is known as poor white trashs cocaine.

Meth? Cocaine? the blind woman said. We dont know this.

Its like white powder, Dan said, feeling a bit more comfortable. People snort it up

their noses. They melt it down and inject it into their veins. Some of them smoke it.


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So this white powder has destroyed your town has it, boy? the good witch said,

looking Bob in the eye.

Yes Mam, he said, looking ather uneasily. That and prescription medications.

Pain pills.

What do you expect us to do about it? asked the one who had greeted them,

picking at a hairy mole on the back of her hand as if disinterested in the conversation.

We want you to make it stop, Dan said, jumping in for Bob. Just make it go away.

We need something in return, she said, looking up from her gnarled, wart and

mole covered hands.

Anything! Dan said without thinking. The three women looked at each other,

cackling in unison at the mans naivety. Bob threw him an angry look. Dan shrugged his

shoulders as if to say, sorry.

We want our coal back! the blind lady said, barking the command like an army

drill sergeant. The other two stopped laughing when she did this and wore looks on their

faces as stern as hers.

What? Dan said, confused. How do we get your coal back?

We wantthe entire towns coal! the blind woman said. Every house on every

street! Get their coal and bring it to us! We gave that to you boy! she said, now facing Bobs

direction. We didnt give it to you to sell out to another man for his business! We want it

back!

Let me get this straight, Dan said, his speech slow. You want us to go around,

collect all the coal from anyone in town that has any, bring it to you and youll solve our

drug problem?

Yes, the good witch said, dropping Bobs hand, walking over and taking Dans. He

thought her smile was warm but could feel the coldness in her touch.

That doesnt sound so bad, he said, his voice trembling, a nervous smile on his face.

Then make it happen, their greeter said, before turning and walking away. The

sooner we get our coal back that the boy here sold, she said, turning as if forgetting

something, throwing Bob a look of disappointment, the sooner you have your problem

solved.


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The other two women turned to go as well. They walked into their small home and

shut the door. Bob and Dan heard the latch lock then all three women cackle again. They

exchanged a quick look then got back in the truck.

That wasnt so bad, Dan said, making his way back down the hill covered in dead,

burnt-like trees.

This has just begun, Bob said. You aint seen nothin yet.

#

Over the course of the next week, the towns city council members went about the

community, door to door, explaining that a recent acidity reading of the local streamsdeemed the coal being burned in the area over the past few years too dangerous for the

environment. It was a story no one questioned, Bob himself being the lead spokesman. The

citizens were told they must surrender their coal to the government but that they would

be reimbursed.

Bob had worked out a deal with the local mines owner, the man to which he had

sold the mine years before. The man was to keep his mouth shut; no questions no

comments. In return, Bob himself would stroke a check, buying everyone who gave up any

coal an entire winters worth by October. Being a coal town, it was considered sacrilege for

anyone to heat with wood. Whatever stove or furnace fuel was left anywhere from theprevious winter would certainly be coal.

Its the middle of July anyway, Dan said to Bob, the two of them making their way

back up the mountain to Bobs adolescent home. Besides, most of the folks had less than a

weeks worth anyway. They were all too happy to give this up, knowing theyd get a full

winters stock for free.

The truck went slower this time than it had during its previous journey to the same

location. It was loaded down with coal, as were the three pickups behind it, all driven by

leery, city council members not filled in on the entirety of the scheme.

Im not worried about that, Bob said, rolling his window down, this day being

particularly hot and muggy. He swatted a deer fly that had been stalking him from the other

side of the glass as it made its way into the cab. I dont trust them. I dont know what they

are up to.


14/24

Upon reaching the bottom the last decent, the dead, burnt-like tree line, they notice

something slightly different. Hanging from the deers skull, attached to the lone antler, was

a piece of paper flapping in the wind. It was tied to the antler with a bit of twine; brown, the

old kind rarely seen in modern times. Dan put the truck in park and got out to investigate.

It says to leave the coal here at the bottom of the hill, he said, returning, handingthe letter through the window for Bobs inspection.

Then lets do as they say, Bob said, getting out of the truck to instruct the men

behind him. Dan turned the truck slightly, waving a couple of younger men who had ridden

as passengers in the other trucks forward. At his age, he had quit shoveling coal many years

before.

Thirty minutes later, the trucks emptied of their contents, everyone began the trek

back to town.

Do you feel like were being watched? Dan said, he and Bob still outside of the

truck, the others now driving away.

Ive felt like that ever since we got out here, Bob said.

The two of them looked up the dark hill, through the dead trees. The skyline against

the hilltop revealed nothing.

KAW! came the call of a crow. They looked up and saw three large black birds in

the tree above them, one with snow white eyes. The large one in the middle let loose a

sizable wad of white and black muck from its posterior. It splattered across the center ofthe trucks windshield.

Bob and Dan exchanged a look, the sound of the birds wings flapping causing them

to look up again, just in time to see the birds head for the top of the hill.

Lets get the hell out of here, Dan said.

Now you see why Ive never been able to stand to listen to people crying about

their childhoods, Bob said, pulling his door shut. The truck, now lighter by the lack of a

load, drove off the hill quicker than Bob, bouncing violently, preferred. He held on to the

Oh my God handle for dear life and said nothing.

#


15/24

Bob lost a nights sleep, his mind racing through the possibilities of what would

befall the small town of Mettsville. The morning light coming through the window gave him

reason to rise. Opening the curtain he was happy to see the sun peaking above the hills as

opposed to some long, endless tunnel.

Ive cheated death yet again, he said, making his way to the kitchen for coffee.Coffee brewed, he walked to his front porch to drink it. Stepping outside his bare foot

retracted quickly upon touching the cold porch, normally warm this time of year in spite of

the hour.

Returning a moment later with slippers and a light shawl from the back of his couch,

he sat and watched as the paper boy made his rounds, tossing a dying form of media from

his Trek mountain bike, house to house. Something was different about the boy this

morning. Normally garbed in shorts and a t-shirt, he was wearing pants and a light jacket. A

glance at the porchs thermometer revealed a temperature of fifty five degrees, fifteen

degrees cooler than every morning for the past six weeks.

Oh,no, he said, now chugging his coffee instead of sipping casually like usual. This

is not good.

#

This is Mayor Hedges, Dan said, answering the phone only minutes after arrivingto his office just before 9:00 a.m.

Dan! This is Bob, the voice from the other side of the line. I need to see you. Have

you had breakfast?

Yeah, but Im always up for a cup of coffee and a piece of pie.

Meet me at the diner in fifteen minutes.

Sure. See you then, Bob.

#

So whats going on Bob? Dan asked, the waitress leaving the table with their order.


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I think something bad is going to happen tonight.

Any idea what?

No, he said, leaning forward, peering around the room. No one else in the s mall

greasy spoon was within ear shot. You still have a daughter here; grandkids. You need toget them out of town for a while.

How can I do that without starting some sort of wide spread panic?

I dont know. But you need to do it.

They wont listen, Dan said, leaning back as the waitress placed a steaming hot cup

of coffee in front of him. She laid a piece of peanut butter pie beside it.

Then have them come to my place, Bob said as the waitress left.

Why?

Dinner, Bob said. Well have dinner at my place. Just tell them that Ive been

thinking a lot about death lately, something like that. Theyll believe it. Most people think I

should have been dead long ago anyway. Hell, I love my boy but I know hes been waiting

around on it for a while so they can retire and live off of his inheritance.

Ok, Dan said. What time do I have everyone come over?

Six. Bob said, leaning back so a plate of eggs, bacon and toast could be placed in

front of him. A tall glass of milk was lightly laid beside it, his self imposed daily allowance ofcoffee already met at home this morning.

Well be there, Dan said, talking with a mouth half full of pie. I hope you are

wrong, but I get the feeling you arent.

#

We must have a cold front moving through, Dans daughter Erica said, entering

Bobs two story brick home in the oldest neighborhood in town.

I dontever remember a summer this cold, her husband Tim said, coming in

behind her.


17/24

They closed the pool early, their daughter Emma said, adding to the conversation,

kicking her sandals off at the door, bending over to rub cold toes.

Its warm in here, Bob said, motioning them in. Dan had been there several hours,

helping his old friend prepare dinner.

Wow! Tim said, viewing the already set table in the dining room. Turkey? Whats

the occasion?

Dinner with friends, Bob said, walking over to shake Tims hand. How have you

been Timmy? I havent seen you in weeks.

Ive been good, Bob. How about you?

Great thanks. Every day I wake up without hearing angels sing or smelling singed

souls is a good day for me.

Dinner prepared, they took to table. Bob had moved the thermometer from the front

porch earlier in the day, placing it just outside the dining room window so he could see it

from his vantage point. It now read forty five degrees.

Everyone enjoyed dinner, talking of recent events in the community, Tims job and

Emmas posthigh school plans. No one noticed the two hours that slipped by, engrossed in

food and conversation. Nor did they notice the temperature dropping outside, now down to

thirty eight, with an hour of summer day light left.

What was that? Erica said, hearing a bang. Everyone stopped to listen, just as hot

air began blowing out of the vents at their feet.

That was my furnace, Bob said. Its old. It sounds like someone knocking on the

back door when it kicks on.

I dont remember a furnace kicking on in southern Kentucky in all my years, Dan

said, eyes wide, staring directly at Bob.

Its Friday, Bob said, rising. No work for you tomorrow Tim. What do you say we

all go down to my bunker. The men can have some drinks and the girls can watch some

movies on the big screen.

Bunker? Emma asked, her face crooked.

Oh yes, young lady, Bob said, a chuckle following his words. You are way too

young to remember, but your parents, grandfather and I lived through something called

The Cold War. A lot of us went a little overboard and made fortresses out of our

basements and cellars.


18/24

As the party made their way to Bobs basement Tim explained, short version, the

cold war to his daughter. Bob and Dan hesitated at the top of the stairs before descending.

Its almost freezing outside, Bob, Dan said, nervous tone in his voice.

Its gonna get worse, Bob said. It makes since to me now why they wanted thecoal. Im afraid this is going to be a long night for Mettsville.

#

As day turned to night, the shadows on top of a certain mountain above Mettsville

grew not only longer, but twisted. An evil was brewing on top of the hill, around the small,

rock house of three sisters of whom no one knew anything other than speculation; a pastthought of as only possible of being true in horror stories, movies and urban legends.

They like white powder, huh? said the blind woman, taking a snow globe from the

small shelf of knick knacks. Lets give them a Christmas in July!

All three women cackled as she shook the globe violently, white powder racing

furiously inside the glass, covering the artificial village within.

#

That movie gets better every time I see it, Erica said, Celine Deons voice cooing

like an angel as the credits for Titanic, streamed across the screen.

You are old, her daughter said, rollingher eyes. Lets watch something more

recent.

Ill be back with more beer, Bob said, addressing Tim, who by now didnt need any

more beer. The men had finished off a twelve pack and half a bottle of scotch chased withcoke while the girls had watched their movie. Why dont you come with me, Dan?

Oh my God, Dan said, reaching the top of the stairs, the upper part of the house

cold in spite of the continually running furnace. What is the temperature now?


19/24

Both men stopped in their tracks when they looked out the kitchen window. It

wasnt the thermometer that stopped them, they hadnt seen it yet. It was the nearly two

feet of snow that covered the ground, more blowing frantically in the chill wind.

Five degrees, Bob said, pulling his eyes off the white powder, viewing the

thermometer. We have to do something!

What are we going to do?

We need the coal, Bob said.

But our agreement?

To hell with our agreement. You cant have a town anyway without people. People

are going to die tonight! This is only going to get worse!

How do we go about it?

Get on the phone! Call the council members! Get the trucks and go back for the coal.

Ill call Richland at the mines, see what he can do.

Got it, Dan said, pulling out his cell. Bob made his way to his land line on the

kitchen counter. Having already been retired and his wife dead for years when it came, the

advent of cell phones was something he had felt he didnt need to participate in and had

chosen not to.

#

The snow was already two and a half feet in the woods. It did not keep the three,

four wheel drive pickup trucks, Dans in the lead, from making their way to the recently

deposited pile of coal.

Oh my God, Dan said, one bend away from the coal. An orange glaze painted the

white backdrop ahead of them.

Fire! the young man riding shot gun said as they rounded the turn. The entire pile

of coal was on fire, the forest ablaze. The fires reflection from the falling snow made it look

like hell was raining down on earth.

Lets go back, Dan said. He turned quickly, his truck sliding out of the trail. Oh no!


20/24

The truck behind him had been too close. It could not stop in time as Dans truck left

the path. It rear ended it, pushing it further into the woods, getting stuck in the deep snow

itself.

I hope he can pull us both out, Dan said, looking in his side view mirror at the trail

truck, the only one not yet stuck. Before it gets colder or this snow gets deeper.

#

The number you have dialed is either out of service or has been disconnected, the

computers voice came across the line for the seventh time.

Damn it! Bob said, slamming the phone.

Wheres Dad? Timmy said, staggering up stairs with a half empty bottle of beer.

Bob had given him another six pack before starting his call session.

He went to get some coal, Bob said, pointing toward the kitchen window. Even

drunk, Tim could tell something was seriously wrong as he peered outside, the snow lit up

by the street light.

Oh my God, Tim said, suddenly sober. What the hell is going on?

Im not sure, Bob said. But were better off downstairs.

Tim turned and began making his way back to the basement. Bob followed, but not

before turning to look at the thermometer again.

Negative thirty degrees!

#

Im freezing, Emma said, already covered with two blankets, lying on the long

section of the L shaped couch in the basement.

Its burning as fast as it will burn, Bob said, shoveling more coal into the coal stove.

It was the backup heat source for the house, installed when he had finished the basement,

turning it into a bunker in the nineteen sixties.


21/24


22/24

#

Come to me, Bob said, to the three year old boy, lips blue, playing in the snow on

the porch. The child was too cold to move. His little sister was lying on the porch, shivering.Both of them only wore diapers. Bob grabbed them both, one arm each, and began wading

through the snow, waist deep, back to his house.

Take them! he said, handing them off to Tim. He had kept watch while breaking a

Bobs lifetime collection of furniture, framed memories, antiques, anything wooden. Im

going back for their mother.

You cant! Tim said. Shell fend for herself. Just like we are.

She hasnt fended for herself in years, Bob said, heading back out into the snow.

Why do old people always have to talk in riddles, Tim said, carrying the children

downstairs.

#

Oh my God, Bob said,the sight of Susans parents huddled, frozen to death on their

couch. Susan! he yelled through cupped hands. Susan!

He quickly made his way upstairs. He opened the door to the first bedroom on the

right. Susan, high as a kite, was sitting on the floor, huddling in a thick comforter, a crack

pipe lying beside her on the floor. The room was freezing, revealing to him his breath when

he exhaled, yet it still reeked of the stench of the rat poison he and Dan were trying to rid

the community of.

Come with me, he said, bending over.

Huh? she said, nothing more than a groan. She looked at him, or rather through

him. He could tell she had no clue where she was, what was happening around her.

I cant carry you, he said. Im too old. You have to get up and walk!

Slowly, he was able to guide Susan to her feet. She fell once, before they reached the

bedroom door, but was able to stand again. He focused on keeping the comforter wrapped

around her.


23/24

Whatever happens, he said, stepping onto the porch, the wind blowing forcefully

in their faces, keep going straight!

It was almost white out. And black out. The street lights were no longer on. The ice,

too heavy now, had snapped the lines. Bob and Susan stepped off the porch, now up to his

chest and began the arduous task of walking the next twenty yards to safety.

#

One Week Later

The Kentucky National Guard has finally made their way into the town of

Mettsville, Kentucky, the attractive brunette, on the scene correspondent for FOX Newssaid, in what is definitely the most freak snow storm in U.S. history, if not world history.

What have they found there? her partner, the most recent defector from CNN said

from back in the studio said.

It is a tragedy, she said. We are getting reports that so far, there were only six

survivors.

Six? he said. Who were these people? Was it one family or was there more than

one household?

Were not sure, she said. They are being taken by helicopter to the hospital on the

other side of the county. The roads are still impassable except for the military vehicles we

came in on with the Guard and other emergency personal. Im told there was one man, who

women, a teenage girl and two babies.


24/24

It looks like there is still a lot of snow behind you, he said. Can you pan the

camera for the folks back home?

Certainly, she said, giving the unspoken order to her cameraman with the wave of

a hand.

The camera spanned as she spoke into the microphone. You see behind us here the

house were the only survivors were found.

The camera showed an old house, one of the first in the community, snow still up to

the porch, at least four feet high. Three crows on top of the snow picked at an old top hat.

The End

Witches of Methville is only one oftwelve stories in my anthology of horror/paranormal

stories titled, A Demons Dozen. I have also authored Amazons #1 ghost novel based on

customer satisfaction, From the Graves of Babes and the thriller Serial Street. All of my

books are available in print or Kindle from Amazon. Kindle versions are only $2.99. As a

disabled Iraq War vet, now pursuing my post military career and lifes true passion,

writing, I thank you for taking the time to read my work! Please join the Kevin E Lake fan

page on Facebook!

http://www.amazon.com/Kevin-E-Lake/e/B00352K6O0/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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