It was an Alfred Hitchcock kind of night; dark, foggy, and eerily quiet.  The crescent moon’s dim light filtered through the bare tree branches, casting eerie shadows. Somewhere nearby, the nocturnal owl screeched, spread its broad wings, and glided above the tombstones in search of its evening meal.

 

It had rained most of the day, and the streets were wet and slippery from the fallen leaves. The creaking sound of Mrs. Picken’s rocking chair against the wooden porch floor sent a chill down my spine. The flicker of an oil lantern penetrated the darkness, but not enough to expose the old lady.

 

My steps quickened as I passed her gate. Mrs. Picken’s rocker had fallen silent. The desolate street was eerily quiet. 

 

“Good evening, Julie.” 

 

My eyes widened in terror. My mouth flew open, but the scream never happened. Mrs. Pickens stood near the gate. “Mrs. Pickens ... you scared me.”

 

She laughed, a deep raspy sound. “A bit afraid of the dark, are you?”

 

“Of course not; I just wasn’t expecting you to be standing there.”

 

“Not me, then a witch, perhaps?”  The townspeople referred to the old lady as the resident sorceress. She wore a long black dress with her gray hair hidden beneath a black cotton cap. Her face and hands were withered and deeply wrinkled. A large black cauldron hung from her fire pit and often putrid smells drifted from the yard. 

 

“A witch?” My legs trembled and I feared I would collapse. “How … how silly.”

 

“Be careful passing the cemetery, my dear. Wouldn’t want one of the residents to run into you.” A long, high-pitched cackle escaped her throat as I raced down the sidewalk.  

 

**********

 

Red and blue lights flashed up and down the street. An ambulance was parked at the cemetery entrance. Neighbors with flashlights walked the empty street, checking behind bushes and parked cars. Mrs. Pickens’ home was dark.

 

“It happened so fast. I was in a hurry to get home. He … someone ran through the cemetery gates and knocked me down.” 

 

I held an ice pack on my head as the police officer questioned me. "It happened so fast. I'm just not sure. I saw something …  white.” I shivered. “I heard an eerie howl. Mrs. Pickens … no, it couldn’t have been her.”

 

Molly Hendricks, a friend of Julie’s, stood nearby listening. Her ears perked up when she heard Mrs. Pickens’ name mentioned. Her fingers couldn’t move fast enough as she called Tara’s house.

 

“Tara, did you hear what happened to Julie? She told the police the old witch had something to do with it. Do you think she was trying to kill her?”

 

“I’d think she’d have cast some kind of spell instead.”

 

“Maybe you’re right. She is kind of old to be chasing anyone.”

 

“Well, Paulie told Rob that Jackson was standing on his front porch, sneaking a puff of Mary-Jane when he saw a figure dressed in white, sail past Julie, knocking her off her feet. Julie was unconscious and bleeding from a gash in her head.”

 

“Wow, he saw more than I did. Tara, let me call you back. Pam’s calling on the other line.”

 

“Hello.”

 

“Molly, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? It was Julie, not me.”

 

“Julie? Oh no, Mrs. Harper told my mom that one of the neighbors saw someone carrying a body dressed in white.”

 

"A body! Do you mean someone dug up a body and stole it? That's creepy!"

 

"That's what Mrs. Harper told mom," Molly said with conviction. “Maybe that’s what Mrs. Pickens cooks in that cauldron.”

 

“Oh stop, Pam. That’s just gross.”

 

"My mom's calling me; I gotta go. I sure hope Julie’s not dead.”

 

“She’s talking to the police, silly. The body must be someone else.”

 

**********

 

Pam hung up the phone. She shivered and wondered why someone would dig up a body. Her brother, Tommy, crept up behind her and yelled, "Gotcha!"

 

A blood-curdling scream exploded from her mouth. He laughed hysterically at her reaction. 

 

"That's not funny, Tommy." Her slap missed him as he jumped away.

 

"Yeah, it is! What's happening?" 

 

"Someone robbed a grave!"

 

"Are you serious?"

 

"A body in a long white wedding dress. He ran into Julie. She fell and smashed her head. She might be dead."

 

"Whoa...that is serious!" Tommy's cell phone rang. He answered it. "Hey, man, did you hear what's going on at the cemetery?" Walking away from his sister, he continued. "You aren't going to believe this! Some guy went psycho at the cemetery tonight. Dug up his bride's grave." 

 

The voice on the phone was doubtful. "Man, she was in her wedding dress?” 

 

“Guess he couldn't live without her. Julie Williams saw him. He tried to kill her. Nobody knows if she's alive or not. An ambulance took her away. I don’t know if it went to the hospital or the morgue. Wild, huh? Okay, John, I'll see you tomorrow."

 

Across town, John quickly dialed another friend. "Hey, you aren't going to believe this. Do you know Tommy Layton? Yeah, that's the guy. Well, he just called me and told me the police are swarming all over his block. Some dude was robbing graves tonight. Julie Williams saw them, and he killed her. Tommy's over there helping the police right now. Yeah, man, Tommy's cool. He'll tell everyone we were there too. Just think how many girls will be hanging all over us. We can tell them we helped solve the case. We'll be heroes!"

 

Three blocks from the cemetery, a police car pulled up to the curb and parked. The officers got out of the squad car and opened the back door. Bruiser, a black Labrador, jumped out of the car and raced toward Mrs. Pickens, almost knocking her to the ground.

 

"Bruiser, settle down. You're a naughty boy, always knocking people down." Opening her front door, she shooed him into the house and then turned to the police officer. "Thanks, Officer.”

 

 “He was chasing a stray cat. Ran right through Mrs. O'Malley's sheets she'd left on the line. All I could hear was that cat howling."

 

Officer Pete pulled a muddy sheet from the backseat of the car. "He had this caught in his collar when we found him. It looked like he was wearing a white cape."

 

"Oh my, Mrs. O'Malley's going to have a fit. I’ve got a special cleaning product brewing in the cauldron. I’ll take care of it in the morning.”

 

"Well, better keep a closer eye on him. We can't be chasing him all around town every night. You know how rumors get started around here. Who knows what someone might say!”

 

"That's for sure. People like to talk! Especially about the resident witch.” Mrs. Pickens laughed. “Makes me special, doesn’t it?”