Saturday, August 31, 1965
Liz Stevens sighed as she turned left on to Spook Hill Lane. The street was every bit as spooky as it had been six years ago when she'd left to go to college. She knew that Richmont's town cemetery where her parents were buried lay to her right, but it's eerie forest of crosses and tombstones were not half as spooky as what lay ahead. That cemetery didn't even come close.
Spook Hill Lane had been aptly named. On the left was a forest of trees owned by the government, and on the right lay Spook Hill Estates. Both had many stories built up about them, none good. Kids used to make up new ghost stories about them every day. Or at least that's how it seemed at the time.
The Estates were an odd collection of seven houses located on what was at one time the southernmost strip of the Tri-Heart Ranch. Prominent members of Richmont society had bought the first five lots in 1918. Her grandfather, a GI returning home from the ‘war to end all wars’, had bought the sixth, slightly smaller house for his wife and son. However, the seventh house was different. No one had lived there in decades because everyone thought it was haunted. In fact, everyone considered it a tremendous challenge just passing that house.
What really made that house spooky was that the master bedroom overlooked the Montgomery family cemetery. This cemetery, located in the southeast corner of the Tri-Heart, bordered the property on which the haunted house stood. Of course, Liz's own bedroom at her Grandmother's house had a similar view, but it was rendered practically invisible due to distance and the trees that surrounded the cemetery.
As Liz gazed out the windows of her car, the surrounding trees began to take on a life of their own. Like the forest in The Wizard of Oz, these trees seemed to be reaching out for her with sharp claws and sinister grins. She could see them beckoning her to join them in their weird dance. To join them so that they could rip her to shreds and eat her, or worse yet to hold her prisoner forever.
Liz shook her head. She'd been on the road far too long. It would be good to finally arrive at her Grandmother's house and get some much-needed sleep. It felt strange to be coming home to Richmont after all these years. It felt particularly strange to be returning to teach English in the same School that she had once attended as a teen, to walk alone down halls she'd once shared with her best friends (Vivian, Stephanie and Gwynne) and their steady boyfriends (Lee, Sean, BJ, and Wendell). The eight of them had been inseparable all through High School and at Ventura Jr. College, yet she hadn't seen any of them in the last six years. In fact the last time she had seen her friends was at the double wedding for Vivian & Lee Montgomery and Stephanie & Sean Patrick. Gwynne and she had been bridesmaids, and BJ and Dell had been the groomsmen.
One week after the wedding, the four guys had been shipped over seas with the Army Special Forces. No one even knew where they where or what was happening until the marines were sent into Viet Nam last March. No one knew how long this war (which no one was allowed to call a war) would last, except to say that some guy named Ho Chi Minh had just rejected the peace talks.
After the guys had shipped out, Liz had left town to go to finish her education; and Gwynne had left town without telling anyone where she was going. Everyone assumed it was because BJ had joined the army instead of proposing to her like she had hoped he would. Only Vivian and Stephanie had remained in Richmont.
Now the whole gang was returning to Richmont, except Dell who had unfortunately been lost in Viet Nam, and Gwynne who had never returned or even written to any of her former friends. Of course the guys might still decide to re-up but that wasn’t very likely. After all, they had ranches to run, and lives to lead. Their wives certainly wanted them to stay home. And BJ had his brother Randy to take care of now that their parents were dead.
"I wonder if the town has changed very much," murmured Liz as she pulled into the drive that led to her Grandmother's house.
As she finally got out of her car, Liz saw her Grandmother opening the cottage door. She could not believe how much her Grandmother had changed in the last six years. Her hair had turned pure white. Her wrinkles had wrinkles, and her shoulders had begun to stoop, but she still had the same old twinkle in her blue eyes. Liz practically ran up the steps to meet her Gran at the top, happy to be home at last.
"Elizabeth honey, it is so good to see you again. It's about time you came home."
"Oh, Gran, I've missed you so much. I'm sorry that I haven't been back to visit recently, but I was just so busy finishing up at school," Liz said as she hugged her Grandmother.
"Darling child, you're home now and that's what matters. Let's get inside so we can talk."
"Have all my trunks arrived yet?" Liz asked as they went inside. "Most of my things are packed in them. I really didn't have enough room in my little Bug; so I sent it all ahead."
"Yes, all your trunks came yesterday. They are up in your old room already. Now let's set a spell and catch up. Would you like some tea?"
Liz hopped up on a stool when they entered the kitchen and leaned her elbows on the counter as her grandmother went about preparing the tea.
"You know something Gran, I think I missed our tea time chats the most. You always were an herbal expert. I remember how you always said ‘the right tea would cure a person of what ailed them’."
"Well it's certainly kept me alive and well these seventy-five years, and it didn't hurt your Pa none. God rest his soul."
As they gathered up their teacups and moved into the living room, they talked about the changes that had taken place in Richmont while Liz was at college. Surprisingly enough they were few.
Vivian and Lee had two kids, Amanda and Scott, both under the age of two. Since Lee was still over in Viet Nam, Vivian, Scotty and Mandy lived in the cottage behind the Montgomery's main house on the Tri-Heart. It was almost like having a place of their own without actually being left alone.
Stephanie and Sean (who was also still in Nam) had one son, Brett, who was only a few hours older than Scotty. Stephanie and Brett had moved in with Sean's father, and they lived in the house that the Montgomerys had given to Andrew Patrick when he had retired from his job as foreman of the Tri-Heart.
She still couldn’t believe her friends had children. Neither Vivian nor Stephanie had ever had a single maternal moment in their lives, but maybe now that they had their own kids that had changed.
The only other change that had taken place in the neighborhood was the sudden inhabitation of the house next door. It was very strange to come home and find that seventh house (the one that had been left unoccupied for decades) was now the residence of the newest, and definitely best looking, history teacher at Richmont High.
Liz's grandmother didn't know a lot about the man who had moved into the house next door, mostly because she hadn't met him yet, but rumor was that he was the most gorgeous man to ever set foot in Richmont. All the women in town were certainly drooling over him.
Her grandmother had also heard that he wasn't a very social man (which was driving all the women crazy). He spent all his free time by himself, and didn't even attend the local church. Which, to the people here, meant he must be very antisocial.
You see, this town was not like the rest of the world - in Richmont, everyone still went to church, and they went for the socialization as much as for the service. Besides, it was the only thing to do from nine to noon on Sunday. Everything else in town was closed then. While she was away at college, she had missed all the community spirit that came with that. It was good to be home again.
Chapter 2
Monday, September 2
The day began just like every Labor Day had in Richmont in the past fifty years, with a parade. Ever since the town had been founded in 1866 the people of this community had gathered on this day to share the fruits of their labors. The women would bring their baked goods, quilts and other handcrafted items; while the men would bring their livestock and basically show off.
Lately, Ferris-wheels and other rides had joined the carnival booths that had once dominated the local High School during this, the last weekend of summer vacation. However, this year was special, as it was the town's one-hundredth anniversary.
This year was also the fiftieth anniversary of the Founder's Day Parade, and everyone, including the Spook Hill Gang, wanted to get into the act, marching down Main Street in historical garb.
The Spook Hill Gang was a highly secret club formed by a group of kids that lived on, or near, the infamous Spook Hill Lane. Today, for the founders’ day parade, the seven members of the Spook Hill Gang (or "Spooks" as they were better known) had decided to dress like historical western figures. Of course, they each had their own ideas on what this meant.
"Boy, am I bushed. This parade route seems to get longer every year. I don't know why I let you guys talk me into being in it again," a pretty blond with the bluest eyes exclaimed as she plopped herself down on the ground between two boys.
"I don't know what you're complaining about Ariel," protested the boy with auburn hair dressed as Kit Carson who was seated on her left. "You got to ride in the carriage the whole way."
"So what, Clarence! You know very well those carriage rides are very bumpy. If it hadn't been for my costume I would have ridden a horse like the rest of you guys did. I'm sure I'd have been more comfortable."
"Quit calling me Clarence! You know I hate that name. Even my brother doesn't call me anything but Randy. Who are you supposed to be anyway?"
"Can't you tell. She is Miss Kitty," replied the dark haired boy on her right.
"Miss Kitty isn't a real person. She's a character on GUNSMOKE."
"Oh, Shut up you two," pouted Ariel. "It's not like this was my first choice. I wanted to come as a regular saloon girl, but my father the oh so holy preacher wouldn't let me. You guys didn't exactly pick out real original costumes either. Hey Dean, which outlaw are you supposed to be anyway."
"What makes you think I came as an outlaw?"
"You always do," replied Randy. "He's Jesse James this year, Ariel. Oh good, here comes the rest of the gang."
Randy, Dean and Ariel turned to look at the four teens coming over to join them. They were an odd assortment of characters: Houdini, Daniel Boone, Davey Crockett, and Brett Maverick.
"Oh great," muttered Ariel. "The baby bunch is here. I don't know why you two want to hang out with a bunch of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds. Juniors just don't hang out with Freshmen and Sophomores."
"Look Ariel, you know as well as we do that in a town like this, where neighbors live miles apart, you don't shun someone just because they're a year or two younger than you are," protested Randy.
"Besides," Dean agreed, "these guys are cooler than most kids their age. Besides, meetings wouldn’t be any fun if they were just about the two of us fight over you, Ariel."
"Hey Harry," he shouted to a kid with hazel eyes and sandy hair, "since when did Houdini become a western Figure?"
"Ah, he's just the oldest magician I could think of, and he is from the right time period. I just thought staying in character was more important."
"What do you mean by that? If we hadn't agreed to come in western garb I certainly wouldn't have worn this," Ariel protested.
"Well, I for one prefer us like we are, in character," Harry retorted. "This way we can see who we really are."
"Yeah," piped up the brown haired, blue eyed boy next to him. "Look at us. The outfits we chose are absolutely perfect. There's Randy, the leader of the gang; Dean, the outlaw; Ariel, the virginal trollop; Harry, the magician; Lucas and Matt, the twin explores; and I, Ralph Webber, alias Brett Maverick, gambler extraordinaire." Ralph gave bow with a flourish of his hat. "I mean come on guys, can't you see how well our costumes fit our personalities?"
"Oh come on," yelled Lucas and Matt. "Daniel Boone and Davey Crockett weren't twins."
"Oh yeah. Then how come they're played by the same guy on TV."
"Knock it off, you three. I always considered Kit Carson an explorer instead of a leader. But, as you were so kind as to point out, I am your club leader, and I say that it is now time for us to start our meeting."
"Ariel, did you bring the minutes from our last meeting?"
"Surely you jest." She answered, rolling her eyes.
"Ok. I guess we'll skip the minutes today. Ralph, I don't suppose you'd have a treasurer’s report?"
"Sure, I have a treasurer’s report. We are broke. End of report. Now is it time for old business?"
"Ok, does anybody have any old business?"
"Yeah, I do," replied Ralph. "At least I guess it would be considered old business. My sister has been bugging me about letting her join. Somehow she found out that we're planning on initiating Richard Howard on Friday the Thirteenth, and she said that she would fink on us if we didn't let her become a Spook as well."
"Ah, come on, she's just a kid," complained Ariel. "Why would we want her in the club?"
"Hey, Joan's my sister, and I really don't want her hanging around, but we have to come up with something better than that. After all, she is fourteen, the same age as Lucas, Matt, and our new recruit Rick. Can't anyone think of something, anything?"
"Well, you guys can't keep her out for being a girl, because I'm one too," Ariel added.
"I've got it," Harry practically screamed. "We'll make sure that she can't pass the initiation test. That way she'll have had her chance, and will not be able to complain later. What's she afraid of Ralph? Anything we can do to make sure she won’t pass the test?"
"I don't think that she is afraid of anything. She even likes bugs and snakes. Except, maybe the old haunted house. I think she might still be afraid of it. Especially since she thinks she saw someone or something in there last Halloween."
"Well, why don't we use that then. It would be perfect. After all, we are the Spook Hill Gang."
"Look Harry, I know you like to keep things very legalistic. Especially since your dad is the judge and all. But we can't use the haunted house, even if it is the only thing that would scare my sister."
"Why not?" Everyone exclaimed at once.
"Besides the fact that breaking in would be illegal…? I saw someone move in there last week. I heard that he’s a new teacher at the High School or something like that."
"Well then, why don't we use the Tri-Heart cemetery?" Randy asked. "It should prove to be just as scary. After all, it is the reason the house is considered haunted isn't it?"
"So, what are we going to do, make my sister sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to go sleep alone in a grave yard? Some how it just doesn't seem fair."
"Remember, it won't just be your sister. Rick will have to pass the initiation test as well. In fact, they can try to pass it together since they're such good friends. As to how she gets out at night, well, that's her problem. If she can't get out, she won't pass the test."
"All those in favor of this test?" Randy looked around at the rest of the gang as they each raised a hand in agreement.
"The ayes have it. Any new business?"
Lucas and Matt looked at each other and then, grinning, asked in unison, "Anyone want to go to a movie? BEACH BLANKET BINGO is playing."
"I’d rather see HELP," Dean said.
"Oh yeah, like my parents would actually let me see a movie with the Beatles in it," Ariel replied. "They think a former Mouseketeer is much ‘safer’."
"All in favor of once again seeing Annette and Frankie partying and surfing...."
After much deliberation, the gang decided that even though all Beach Party movies were pretty much the same they were still worth watching. Especially if it meant Ariel could come with them.
Chapter 3
Wednesday, September 11
Liz looked out at the twenty students that had signed up for her elective class 'Myths, Legends, Faerie Tales and Ghost Stories'. It was her last class of the day, and she hoped her most enjoyable. She recognized at least half of the students from earlier classes, and now that roll had been taken she could start class.
"All right everyone, quiet down." Liz slowly stood up and walked to the chalkboard, pointing at what was written there. "For those of you who have not been in one of my classes yet, my name is Miss Stevens. And this class is called 'Myths, Legends, Faerie Tales and Ghost Stories'."
Just then a boy in the back of the class got up and ran out the door while all the kids laughed.
"For those of you who thought this class would be an easy A, you were sadly mistaken. You will have to work hard to get an A in my class. These are not just children's stories that we will be studying. Many myths and legends have a basis in fact. Others had a great influence on the way people acted or reacted. In this class we shall explore both, and maybe come up with a few creative explanations of our own."
"In this class we shall be studying the works of Aesop, Hans Christian Andersen, Joseph Campbell, Homer and the Brothers Grimm, as well as many other lesser know authors, and maybe we'll throw in a few of the local legends for good measure."
"Now for the answer to the question I'm sure all of you are asking. The way I grade is fairly simple. There will be only two tests - the mid-term and final - and one major paper due this quarter. They will each be worth 25% of your grade. The final 25% will be a compilation of all grades earned from class participation, quizzes, and special projects."
"We'll begin our class by discussing some of the local myths and legends. I'll start with this story that was going around when I was a kid about the house next to mine. I have no idea who came up with it, but it's been around since my parents were kids; so we always thought that it was true. Who knows? Everyone always thought that my grandmother was a witch too, and that certainly wasn't true. Anyway, it’s called THE HAUNTING OF SPOOK HILL."
The house at the end of the road hadn't been occupied for many years when the first complaints started coming in.
At first people thought that kids had turned it into a clubhouse, or that a bum had decided to move in. But, after thorough searches, they were always proved wrong.
The local Police checked it out a lot at first, but they never found anything. The dust and cobwebs were so thick that it was obvious no living person had set foot in the house in ages. Yet people still saw the lights go on and off in the house, and they heard the voices. After a while, people started avoiding the house, and stories of ghosts started popping up all over.
Finally, two brothers decided to check out the house. They believed that they were the only ones who could discover what was going on. So, that Halloween, after all the other little kids who had been trick-or-treating had gone to bed, they snuck out of their house and went to explore the haunted house.
Now any old house covered with dust and cobwebs can seem spooky at night, especially on Halloween. But this one took the prize. It looked as if it would be standing for thousands of years, easily, yet it was creaking and groaning like it was about to fall apart. The windows rattled and shook. The shutters banged against the walls. The lights flickered wildly. But there was no storm to account for it. There wasn't even a slight breeze. Outside the night was calm and still.
The two kids were afraid of the haunted house, but they were even more afraid to admit it. So both of them went in the house to see what was going on.
The next morning the two boys were discovered dead. Their bodies were at the top of the stairs, but their heads were missing, never to be found again.
The police searched every inch of the house, but there wasn't a clue as to what happened. The words ‘Stay Out’ written in the dust and the boys’ footprints were clear, but theirs were the only prints. There was no way that anyone could have gotten to them, without leaving at least some kind of mark, yet someone had.
Maybe it was a ghost. Maybe it wasn’t. But some say that the spectre of the murderer still walks the halls of the old house looking for victims, and heads, to collect. Some even claim to have seen it, especially on all hallows eve when the ‘ghost’ would be at it’s strongest.
"Now. Let’s see if any of you can come up with a good local ghost story of your own. Does anyone have one already?"
Liz looked out at the sea of faces before her. Some of them began to slowly sink down in their chairs, while others just looked bewildered. All of a sudden one hand shot up in the air. It belonged to one of the students that she actually recognized from an earlier class, a kid with auburn hair and blue eyes reminiscent of another boy that she had once known quite well back when she was in High School.
"Well Randy, it seems you're the only one here with a story to tell. Why don't you come up here and tell it to us."
Randy slowly rose from his seat and walked up to the front of the room. Shoulders slouched; he leaned against Liz's desk as she took a seat off to the side.
"Well, part of this story is common knowledge. The rest of it I sort of heard from our new history teacher, Mr. DiMera. It's about the Tri-Heart gold mine. I don't know if it's the kind of thing you mean, but it is a bit of a legend around here."
"I think I know the story you mean Randy," Liz replied. "Go ahead and tell it."
Randy went on to tell a story about a missing goldmine, a feud between the Richmonds and the Montgomerys, a whole bunch of ghastly murders, and a ghostly Spectre that chopped off people's heads.
"… And they say that right before he died he swore that he'd come back for the gold and to get revenge on - to totally destroy - the rest of the Montgomery family," Randy said as he finished the story.
"The curse at the end was a nice touch. I hadn't heard that part before," Liz said as Randy finished and sat down. "But what I always wondered was, how could they possibly get from one place to another without being seen?"
"Well," Randy hesitated a moment, "actually, I got the bit about the curse from Mr. DiMera, and he also has a theory about the "ghost-like" movements. He thinks that they got around by using the old mine shafts or tunnels."
"Well, that's an interesting theory." Liz answered with a slight laugh. "One that I've never heard before anyway, it’s a wonder that an out-of-towner came up with it. It does make a certain kind of sense though. Just don’t any of you try it, ok? Those old tunnels are dangerous."
Now can anyone tell me the similarities in and differences between these two stories? Ariel?"
"Well, the only real similarities are they guy who goes around chopping peoples heads off and the location, specifically Tri-Heart land and Richmont. It seems something is always happening to those Montgomerys. Otherwise the stories are completely different," Ariel answered with a shrug and a toss of her blond hair.
"Yeah, all you guys live on cursed property," snickered Randy.
"Hey, I don’t live anywhere near the Tri-Heart!" exclaimed Ariel.
"No, you just live in the town cemetery," replied Randy.
"No, I live in the parsonage. It just happens to be next to the cemetery, which happens to be next to the church..."
"…Which happens to be next to the parsonage that you live in because your dad’s the Reverend," said Harry. "Yeah, we all know this already. You’re just lucky you do live in that cemetery, ‘cause if you didn’t you couldn’t be a member of the Spook Hill Gang."
"So why’s Randy a member? It’s not like he lives on Spook Hill Lane or anything," Ariel asked.
"I’m the president, that’s why," answered Randy. "And just because the ranch house is on Richmond Avenue doesn’t mean Spook Hill Lane doesn’t border the Lazy R. Besides, I am one of the founding members you know."
Liz was looking around the room quickly to see whom she should call on next when her eyes fell on a girl she had seen earlier that day in her freshman English class. Only this time, instead of hiding behind the mop of dark brown curls that covered her head and ran half way down her tee shirt clad back, the girl was glaring at the fifteen-year-old boy (who looked enough like her that he had to be her brother) sitting next to her.
Grinning to herself, Liz said, "Ok you guys let’s get back to the story. Joan, what are the differences in the two stories?"
With two wide and very startled sky-blue eyes peering out from under bangs that were a bit too long, Joan Webber answered the question. "The only real difference between them is that your story was mostly fiction - with just a speck of truth thrown in for good measure - probably created to keep kids out of a deserted house. Randy's story however, was based on area history. And real people were involved. Sort of."
"I guess that's one way to look at it," Liz replied. "As you can see, even the fiction was based on a truth, and that’s what we are going to be looking at in this class - the truth behind the myths. Take dragon slayers for instance. Were these stories lies, or were they in fact accounts of men killing off the last of the dinosaurs.
Then there are the Salem Witch Trials. Were there really witches or just a bunch of unfounded accusations against some women who knew a lot about herbs and made someone mad? Yes, Ariel you have a question?"
Ariel lowers her hand and asks, "How does all this stuff fit in with God and the Bible. I mean you go to our church and all, so do you believe in dinosaurs and evolution, witches and curses, God and the Bible or what?"
"Well, dinosaurs existed but I don’t believe in evolution. As for the rest of it, well, one doesn’t necessarily preclude the other," Liz explained. "You see the Bible mentions the Leviathan in Job 41:1 and Psalms 74:14. A big fish swallows Job. A unicorn is spoken of in Psalms 92:10.
Witches and witchcraft are mentioned numerous times including in 2 Chronicles 33: 6b where it says: ‘…He observed times, and used enchantments, and used witchcraft, and dealt with a familiar spirit and with wizards: he wrought much evil in the sight of the LORD, to provoke him to anger.’
Then there is the time when Saul went to ‘a woman with a familiar spirit’ at Endor – I like to call her the witch of Endor - and asked her to bring him up Samuel. Which she did, and he talked to him." And when Moses throws down his staff in front of Pharaoh it turns into a snake as do the staffs of pharaoh’s magicians.
Which means they must have been able to do some kind of magic as well. Anyway, I don’t see where believing in God means you can’t believe in magic. One does not preclude the other."
"Well, there goes the bell. That means you are all free to go now. Tomorrow we're starting the chapter on the Grimm brothers; so, you should start familiarizing yourselves with it tonight."