| General Fiction posted July 3, 2020 |
  |
a 494-word ghost story
Twixt
by Bill Schott
Ghost Story Contest Winner
"Man! That was close, Chet!" David shouted as he pulled over onto the loose-gravel shoulder of the two-lane blacktop road.
"I think I crapped my pants!" he replied, his face as white as a ghost.
"It just shot out of the fog. I've never seen a truck that big on a back road like this. I don't know that I've ever seen one that huge."
"If that had hit us, we'd be dead."
David rolled down his window to get some air, then stretched out his arm to indicate he was pulling back onto the road.
"How much farther to the ammunition factory?"
Chet looked at a map he'd gotten from an attendant at a service station back in the last town.
"It's somewhere past this next bridge that's coming up, and before the state line."
"Good. We didn't get any ethyl at that last stop. I'm not sure if this sedan will make it much farther."
"Look, David!" shouted Chet, pointing through the windshield. "Is that a girl I see standing by that bridge abutment?"
"What's she wearing, Chet? She looks like one of those hillbilly girls in Li'l Abner."
David pulled off before crossing the bridge. The young girl, dressed in jean shorts, cut to the crotch, and a knotted top, came around to Chet's side of the car.
"Nice ride, man. You guys headin' to a car show?"
"Hi, miss," said Chet. "You look like you just left Dogpatch."
"Yeah, sure," she replied. "You fellas goin' to California?"
"Are you running away from home, Daisy May?" asked Chet, grinning.
"My name's Moonflower, dude. I'm on my own and looking for a ride. I can work my way there, if I need to."
David was shocked at what he felt he had just heard.
"How old are you, girl? You look to be a twixt."
The young girl took a step back from the car.
"I'm straight, freak. I just do guys and then nothin' weird."
Chet's mind was blown. What kind of people lived in this part of the country he wondered?
"My friend said twixt; isn't that what you call a kid between twelve and twenty?"
"You mean a teenager? Yeah, I'm a teenager, but I'm legal, if that's what you mean."
Chet looked at David and he slowly moved his head back and forth for a negative answer.
"Sorry, Moonriver. The best we can do is offer you a ride home to your folks."
"It's you creeps that are twixt. You're young guys in an old car. You talk like somebody's grandma. Beat it!" The girl flipped them off and walked back to the bridge.
The two men shrugged. Dave moved the column gear into first and released the clutch. As the car rolled across the bridge, they could see a mist rolling up from the river below.
Having just made it past the end of the bridge, something burst out of the fog.
"Man! That was close, Chet!" David shouted as he pulled over onto the loose-gravel shoulder of the two-lane blacktop road.
"I think I crapped my pants!" he replied, his face as white as a ghost.
Later, they approached a bridge where a old woman was selling flowers from a makeshift cardboard table. They stopped and the octogenarian-looking woman toddered to Chet's side of the car.
"You boys want to buy flowers? I got mums and I got - uh - mums."
"Sure, ma'am," said Chet. "How many for a dime?"
The woman looked at him as if he'd said something hurtful.
"A dime!" she said at last. "Ten bucks is the cheapest I got!"
David and Chet both looked at each other and began laughing.
"I just wanted to buy a flower, not the bridge," said Chet as he laughed.
"Just go on -- get out of here!" she yelled as she limped back to her table.
The two men pulled out across the bridge. The woman sat down on her old chair behind her sign, Moonflower's Mums. Her foggy mind ran through her life as she seemed to recall an old car like the one she just saw, when she was just a young girl -- a teenager? A TWIXT!
She tried to stand and see the car across the bridge, but it had disappeared into the mist.
"Man! That was close, Chet!" David shouted as he pulled over onto the loose-gravel shoulder of the two-lane blacktop road.
"I think I crapped my pants!" he replied, his face as white as a ghost.
"It just shot out of the fog. I've never seen a truck that big on a back road like this. I don't know that I've ever seen one that huge."
"If that had hit us, we'd be dead."
David rolled down his window to get some air, then stretched out his arm to indicate he was pulling back onto the road.
"How much farther to the ammunition factory?"
Chet looked at a map he'd gotten from an attendant at a service station back in the last town.
"It's somewhere past this next bridge that's coming up, and before the state line."
"Good. We didn't get any ethyl at that last stop. I'm not sure if this sedan will make it much farther."
"Look, David!" shouted Chet, pointing through the windshield. "Is that a girl I see standing by that bridge abutment?"
"What's she wearing, Chet? She looks like one of those hillbilly girls in Li'l Abner."
David pulled off before crossing the bridge. The young girl, dressed in jean shorts, cut to the crotch, and a knotted top, came around to Chet's side of the car.
"Nice ride, man. You guys headin' to a car show?"
"Hi, miss," said Chet. "You look like you just left Dogpatch."
"Yeah, sure," she replied. "You fellas goin' to California?"
"Are you running away from home, Daisy May?" asked Chet, grinning.
"My name's Moonflower, dude. I'm on my own and looking for a ride. I can work my way there, if I need to."
David was shocked at what he felt he had just heard.
"How old are you, girl? You look to be a twixt."
The young girl took a step back from the car.
"I'm straight, freak. I just do guys and then nothin' weird."
Chet's mind was blown. What kind of people lived in this part of the country he wondered?
"My friend said twixt; isn't that what you call a kid between twelve and twenty?"
"You mean a teenager? Yeah, I'm a teenager, but I'm legal, if that's what you mean."
Chet looked at David and he slowly moved his head back and forth for a negative answer.
"Sorry, Moonriver. The best we can do is offer you a ride home to your folks."
"It's you creeps that are twixt. You're young guys in an old car. You talk like somebody's grandma. Beat it!" The girl flipped them off and walked back to the bridge.
The two men shrugged. Dave moved the column gear into first and released the clutch. As the car rolled across the bridge, they could see a mist rolling up from the river below.
Having just made it past the end of the bridge, something burst out of the fog.
"Man! That was close, Chet!" David shouted as he pulled over onto the loose-gravel shoulder of the two-lane blacktop road.
"I think I crapped my pants!" he replied, his face as white as a ghost.
Later, they approached a bridge where a old woman was selling flowers from a makeshift cardboard table. They stopped and the octogenarian-looking woman toddered to Chet's side of the car.
"You boys want to buy flowers? I got mums and I got - uh - mums."
"Sure, ma'am," said Chet. "How many for a dime?"
The woman looked at him as if he'd said something hurtful.
"A dime!" she said at last. "Ten bucks is the cheapest I got!"
David and Chet both looked at each other and began laughing.
"I just wanted to buy a flower, not the bridge," said Chet as he laughed.
"Just go on -- get out of here!" she yelled as she limped back to her table.
The two men pulled out across the bridge. The woman sat down on her old chair behind her sign, Moonflower's Mums. Her foggy mind ran through her life as she seemed to recall an old car like the one she just saw, when she was just a young girl -- a teenager? A TWIXT!
She tried to stand and see the car across the bridge, but it had disappeared into the mist.
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