Few chase the windwaver and keep their sanity. But Colson was the curious sort; and he had to investigate - -
"What is a windwaver ?" we asked Mr. Colson.
Colson had a lot of stories to tell. He said that most of them were true. But you couldln't believe eveything that he said. Some of his stories were so incredible. He told me about the Windwaver while we were out in the country one night next to a fire. My friend Shannon was with me, when we heard that one. We were nice and warm when he started the story; but as he continued, the fire didn't seem to be enough to keep away the chills down our backs.
"This isn't really the place for it," he said smiling in the eerie firelight. "But this land reminds me of the Windwaver. I've seen one."
"What is a Windwaver ?" we asked falling into the trap.
"It runs. It runs and passes along like the wind. Only, it can run in all directions, with and against the wind too, for it has a life of its own. They can form faces and scare the very soul out of you - the bad ones. Some of them can blast your mind right from your body. You become like one of these people in the crazy house muttering a phrase over and over, or just sit and stare.
My grandmother knew about 'em from where she lived. They called em swishers. She said that they would come up against doors at night way out in the country. They had voice then; and would beg in their long low wailing for you to open the door. But you'd better not, because you would never be able to speak one proper sentence after that. You can never look into the face of a Windwaver without becoming a changed person."
Shannon and I huddled closer.
"Well, I saw one of the tame ones I guess. I was lucky. because I can't remember seein' the face. It turned around so fast. I was out driving home one night on this road that hardly ever used. There were only about three houses on it; and one of them was left.
I would always pass this house that was abandoned a long time ago. It was up on a hill with just a few trees around it. Whenever I went that way, I would always slow down a little just to look at the house. I kept telling myself that one day, I would go up there and take a look. I like to look in old places like that. I even had this pet dream of someday buying a place like that and fixin' it up. But that time just never seemed to happen.
A few time, I would be drivign by there at night; and I would see some lights in the windows. I knew that the house was empty, so something was up. I had the feelin' that house was haunted. It sure looked like it could be.
Well, k one day just about nightfall, I was going around that way. Like always, I slowed down to have a glance at that house. Well, there was some laundry hagin' on the clothesline. I though maybe, some people's finally moved in there. But that wasn't likely since that house wouldn't be worth fixin' up, really.
So I slowed down to have a better look. I remember that it was pretty windy; and you could see that laundry a flutterin' in the breeze. But when I looked closer, I saw that it was only one sheet just hangin' on the line by itself.
I came to a full stop. There was something that wasn't right about it. I sat there and watched it for a few minutes. Then suddenly, a gust of wind knocked it loose and it blew away up the hill towards the house.
Then it just whooshed in through a side window. I couldln't believe that a sheet could do that. It was out of sight. I wanted to go up and have a look; but it was getting late and I had to get on home. But I swore that I would come back when I had more time.
Well, the time came a week later. It was in the day. I pulled the car over to a safe place in the road and got out. I walked down the road and climbed over the fence. Now the first thing that I noticed was that there was NO clothesline anywhere for a sheet to hang. Still, I didn't even think about what it might be. I just went right on.
I climbed in through the window on the side - you see the front door was stuck. The floor was old; and I thought it hit break on me at any step; and you know I was tryin' to be quiet.
That house had a spooky feel to it. I guess any old house would feel that way; but this one had spirit if you know what I'm sayin'. I wanted to leave; and I wanted to stay. Well, you know, I really couldn't leave until I had at least looked in every room.
Everything was empty; but then I came to the bedroom in the corner. Now this was where I came in. Then I heard something in the closet next to me. It was a kind of shufflin, like someone scooting their feet on the floor.
I was scared then. I just knew that it had to be somebody in that closet. I should have just thrown the door open; but instead, I backed away toward the window. Whoever was in there could hear me on those creaky boards soundin' like a bull.
But they didn't come out. I was ashamed of myself getting off down that hill. Somebody hiding in a closet wasn't something that would normally scare me; but this was really on my nerves. I looked at my hand and saw that it was shaking."
"Is that it ?" Shannon asked.
"No, here comes the best - or worst part of all," Colson continued. It was almost sundown a few weeks later. I was going home another way now, because I had to stop and pick up things at stores you know. But when I got near Edger road one dusk, I remembered the place and turned in.
I was the only car on the road now. I drove for that same spot and parked my car. And when I walked to that fence, would you believe that I saw it ? Well, there it was that sheet all by itself - that sheet.
I paused there just lookin' at it. Still would you believe that I didn't guess what it was. It just didn't come to me. Well, that did it. I climbed the fence and climbed the hill after it.
And then, it jerked off the line again. There it went, right through that window. Well, I was scared, don't think elsely. But I wasn't going to back down this time. I was still ashamed of the last time.
So I had my flashlight this time. I made my way right up to that window and climbed in. So there I was in that same bedroom. It was like some sort of a chase game.
And then, I heard it again - that rumpling, from that same closet. So, witihout using my brain, I jerked the door open. It didn't open at once. I pulled hard, and it flew open.
I stood there, all out of breath, straining my eyes to see inside. I saw a sheet hanging on a nail. At least that was my first impression. But all at once, that confounded thing came to life. It was hangin' on anything. It was standing alone.
I tried to hit at it with the flashlight; but all at once, it was on me. That thing wrapped around me and I couldn't get it off to save my life. It was stronger than I could believe; and if I got one part off, another piece wrapped around another part.
It was like I was wearing that thing; and it was shrinking. I couldn't breathe. I was scared out of my wits; and I was enraged all the same. I was screaming now and bumping around the room, hitting the walls.
Somehow, I got free. All at once, I was outside on the ground. That thing had let me go I guess. I got up like a wounded animal and headed down hill. I don't know why, but for a second, I stopped and looked back. I wished that I hadn't.
There was a face, the face of a woman in rage staring at me. I'd never seen such a look of hate and menace in my life. It was all crumpled and wrinkled; but I could see it just the same. It was about ten yards from me then; and I think if it had been any closer, I would have lost my mind.
Even then, it did something to me. When I came to, I was sitting in my car holding the steering wheel. Somehow, I had climbed that fence and unlocked my car. I drove home. Weeks after that I was like a little kid having nightmares afraid to go to sleep. I screamed whenever I saw my bed sheets a little wrinkled.
I learned later, from my Uncle Mel that I had encountered a Windwaver, although I had guessed as much by then. It is a spook, ghost or whatever, that uses a sheet to give itself a shape.
And I was the lucky one. I had seen it and survived. Mel knew others that hadn't done so well. But it's one thing that I've never forgotten; and I won't."
The story was over. "I'm sure glad I don't have to do the laundry tommorrow," Shannon said. She wasn't laughing.
William Darby