Crying Infant

In my lifetime, I’ve taken quite a few road trips, between vacations, competing in beauty pageants and running various other errands. One thing I always hated about these trips was when it’d be late at night, and I was in the car with maybe a couple of other people, going down a strange and dark piece of road. Just looking at the surroundings, you can almost sense that something is about happen. And for the people in our story--it does.

“Crying Infant”

(Based on a True Story)

A Michael Jackson Horror Story By:

MJsLoveSlave

Premble Police Department
Premble, Delaware
Winter, 1978

A young man sits on the front steps of the small police station, his slim shoulders slumped and his head held tightly in his hands.
Anyone looking upon the man could tell that at one time he was an impeccably and well dressed fellow of considerable means. That is, if they could see past his now shabby appearance.
His thick and wide afro is matted and all in a disarray, small twigs and branches tangled in it.
He wears a black trench coat, one sleeve sagging as it had been ripped from the shoulder seam. His designer jeans were torn down one side, exposing his toned brown thigh ,now dotted with skin beginning to scab over. Dust is streaked and crusted all over the man.
If anyone could have gotten close enough to actually smell the young man, they’d get a whiff of an exclusive and expensive cologne, mixed with the odors of sweat and very, very faintly, urine.
Looking up at the first few strains of morning light breaking over the horizon, the man wraps his arms around himself, trying to make complete sense of what he has just been through. The things he witnessed.
Would anything ever make sense to him again?
Would he want anything to make sense?
The weight of seemingly the world and the previous night’s events were tearing at him. The horror, terror and fear were just still too fresh and raw in his mind.
Beside this young man, another young man appears, his appearance similar to other man in that his afro is also in a shambles and his once nice clothing, including a brown leather jacket are torn to rags. Even one of his alligator skin shoes is missing.
His big, hazel eyes are glazed over as he sits and puts a hand on the other man’s shoulder.
Both men stare at each other.
They’d been through hell.
Suddenly, fiercely, both men embrace each other, instantaneously bursting into tears.
“Marlon…Marlon, I’m sorry! This is my fault! I’m so sorry! Oh Lord!”
Michael Jackson, the man in the remnants of a trench coat sobbed, holding his brother’s moist and damp face close to his.
“No it ain’t--it’s nobody’s fault, man! It ain’t your fault!” Marlon sniffled loudly and was hugging Michael all the tighter.
“We were at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
But the words meant little to Michael, because contrary to what his sibling was telling him, it was indeed his fault that they were at the wrong place at the wrong time…


A Few Hours Earlier
About One Hundred Miles
From Premble

“..can’t we stop for a burger or something?”
“No.”
“But I’m hungry!”
“Little girl, stop talking to me!”
Michael Jackson growled, through gritted teeth, as he was vainly trying to keep his eyes on the snow crusted, tree-trimmed road that was stretching before his car.
Glancing up into the review mirror, he got a pretty clear view of the back seat. And the middle finger being waved at him by his little sister.
Sometimes Michael just didn’t understand the twelve-year-old. It was utterly remarkable to him how they were related and had come from the same mother.
Michael had always been a good kid, and now at twenty, he reckoned he was a good man. He’d never gotten in trouble in school or with the law, had always brought home good grades--nothing lower than a “B Minus”--and was generally in a pleasant mood.
Looking to the side at his brother, Marlon, curled up in the front passenger seat and sleeping, he shook his head. Marlon’s traits were closer to Michael’s. He was good, nice to be around, excelled in school, and except for a few speeding tickets, he was on the right side of the law.
And then there was Janet. The baby of the family and a little hurricane from Day One. . As an infant, for nearly the first six months of her life, Janet cried and screamed. Everyday, every hour, to the point where Michael and Marlon had to go live with their grandmother just to get a decent night’s sleep.
And then Janet, who learned to walk early, at only ten months, was never a stranger to trouble.
Every time you turned around, from the time she entered pre-school, Janet was always doing or saying something wrong. Everything from little fights in school, to cutting class, to getting her bellybutton pierced against her parent’s wishes when she was only nine!
She’d been thrown out of several schools, so many no one even tried to keep track anymore.
This time was just her latest entry on a never-ending list of infractions.
Though the entire Jackson family lived in California, Janet had been sent to a Catholic boarding school in the small rural town of Augustine, Delaware, about two hundred miles from the capital of Dover.
And true to her fashion, Janet hadn’t been there a good three months before she was being suspended for smoking in the bathroom.
At this rate, Janet was going to go through every school in the USA before she graduated--if she ever did, since her grades stayed in the toilet.
“Geez, Michael, get the stick out your ass, you’re acting like you’re the one who got caught smoking.” Janet scoffed, shaking out her short black locks, and looking like a tick about to burst in the large, pink puffer coat she wore.
“And you’re acting like you don’t have the sense God gave a gnat!” Michael shot back. “I don’t think you understand just how much you cost Mother and Dad, Janet. Damn it, all this stuff ain’t free you know. They’ve gotta pay tuition for your little ungrateful self, not to mention the plane tickets for me and Marlon to come get you and then to fly home--”
“Yeah that’s great. Mom and Dad didn’t even come to get me--they sent their stand-ins.” The girl laughed derisively. “They didn’t even care enough to come get me themselves--”
SCREECH!
Suddenly, Michael slammed down on the brakes, causing the car to skid several feet on the damp asphalt, and sending everyone in side lurching forward.
“Man, what the hell?” Marlon, awakened as he was thrown into the dashboard, exclaimed, sitting up in a state of confusion.
“Ow!” Janet screamed as she slid off the seat onto the floor of the car.
Michael, hands trembling as he unfastened his seatbelt, turning, got on his knees in the seat and was leaning into towards Janet, a long finger pointed at her.
“Janet Damita-Jo Jackson…” He began, voice stagnant and his large dark eyes flashing as he tried to restrain himself. “You better get down on your knees and thank God right now that Mother and Dad didn’t come to get you, because trust me, they were so mad, they might have killed you! Dismembered you and thrown you in the woods or slam-dunked your ass out the plane on the way home. They’re tired, Janet. Tired as hell of your antics, and cutting up. It ain’t cute. It never was. You’re the reason why our folks both have high blood pressure, and Dad gets those migraines. And guess what, I’m tired as all hell too. And if I wasn’t afraid of going to jail for abandonment, I’d make you WALK home!”
Janet, awed, because neither of her brothers had ever raised their voices at her, stared at Michael with wide eyes, dumbstruck.
“That’s the first time you’ve shut your damn mouth since we left the school!” Michael pointed out and alarmed, Marlon was trying to grab after his shoulders.
“Mike! Michael! Calm down, man! Calm down!” He urged, trying to soothe his sibling.
“Nah, man Marlon! I won’t sit here and have her talking shit about Mother and Dad after all they’ve done for us. Especially her! I wish she were a boy for five minutes so I could wear her the fuck out!” Michael was pulling from his brother’s grasp, and truly believing she was about to be slapped, Janet was curling up into a ball on the floor.
“Michael, you know she’s always talking shit! Let it go! You know we have to get over to the airport in Dover if we wanna make our flight. We don’t have time for you to go kicking her uppity ass right now!” Marlon was crying out, hands in his own thick afro, as Michael was unlocking and opening his door, and stepping out, letting a rush of icy air into the car.
“I’m not going after her!” Michael whined as Marlon was laying in the seat and in a desperate effort, grabbing onto the sleeve of his black trench coat.
All at once, Michael’s cheeks were tinged scarlet, and a puff of steam left his mouth as he chuckled sheepishly,
“I gotta use the facilities…”
“Oh!” Marlon, relived hooted as he finally released Michael’s arm. “Well hurry up! We gotta make that plane!”
“I will!” Michael nodded , as he began running up the bank, shoes crunching in the freezing snow, looking for a tree to hide himself behind.
“I hope a wolf comes and snatches your ‘winkie’ off!” He heard Janet call, emboldened by the fact that she wasn’t going to get the tartar knocked off her teeth.
“Shut the hell up, Janet!” Marlon screamed. “Cause I WILL hit you!”
“Kiss my ass!”
“I will KICK yo’ narrow ass!”
Chuckling to himself, Michael went a couple of yards into the woods, making sure that he never lost sight of the car and it’s headlights, because the last thing he wanted was to get lost out in the wilderness like that.
Finally, Michael spied a nice, large, thick-trunked tree, and eagerly ran behind it.
“Ahhhh!” He sighed happily. He’d been so angry with Janet and had carried her away from her school so quickly, he’d completely forgotten to make a pit stop. His bladder was near bursting. He didn’t care that it was so cold or how the breeze was whipping his nether parts.
Michael even wrote his initials in the snow.
He was finishing up and tucking himself back into his trousers when he heard it.
“Waaah! Waaah!
Startled, Michael turned in a complete circle.
“Hello?” He called shrilly. “Is some one there? Hello?”
“Waaah! Waaah!
Michael’s jaw began to sag as he recognized the noise.
Somewhere nearby, a baby was crying.
“Waaah! Waaah!
Unable to see, Michael went tearing through the woods and over to the car.
“Girl, you need to shut up, because if I get in that back seat, an ambulance will have to carry you home!” Marlon was threatening, waving a balled fist at Janet.
“I’d love to see you try. I’ll knock the crust off those big lips of yours!” Janet was wagging her head as Michael got to the car and was flinging the door open, breathless.
“You guys…Marlon…shut the hell up Janet…guys!” He wheezed and was doubling over, trying to catch his breath.
“Mike, what’s wrong--don’t tell me something really did grab your ‘winkie‘!” Marlon snickered as Michael was crawling into the car, over him and digging into the glove compartment.
“No, you schmuck! When I was in the woods…” Michael paused and came up with a floodlight flashlight. “…I swear I heard a baby crying! I think someone left a baby out there! It’ll die in this cold!”
Marlon raised a quizzical brow at Michael and behind him, Janet was indicating that he was crazy, twirling her finger beside her head.
“A baby? You heard a baby?” Marlon repeated, not sure how to take it. “You heard a baby in the woods?”
“Yes! We have to find it! We have to help it!” Michael, adrenaline starting to flow through his veins was reaching over Marlon, opening his door and shoving him out. “Come on!”
“Do you realize how crazy you sound right now?” Marlon demanded, zipping up his brown leather jacket against the cold wind as Janet, not wanting to be left behind alone, was also getting out the car and slamming the door.
Marlon knew that Michael had always had a soft spot in his heart for helping children, but this seemed ridiculous.
What kind of demented person would leave a child out there in the woods like that?
 “Waaah! Waaah!
Michael jumped as he was able to hear the crying carrying on the wind.
“Listen! Be quiet. Janet if you open your mouth, you’ll be picking up teeth! Listen! There‘s a child out there and we have to get it to a hospital or the police!”
Keeping their mouths closed, and Janet scowling, the others tilted their heads and strained their ears to try to hear this so-called crying that was making Michael work himself into a lather.
And very, very faintly, they could hear it.
“Waaah! Waaah!
“Holy shit! I hear it!” Marlon gasped and Janet put her hands to her mouth, stunned.
“I told you!” Michael replied and was turning, leading a stampede into the woods. “Get the molasses out your asses--we got a baby to save!”
“Waaah! Waaah!
With eyes wide, the flashlight sweeping the ground and ears open to try to locate the crying infant.
“You got any idea where it’s coming from?” Marlon demanded, his breath coming in puffs as he and Janet were running behind Michael, going deeper and deeper into the woods.
“Waaah! Waaah!
Michael, in the lead, stopped for a moment, allowing his siblings to catch up to him..
Straining his ears, Michael was certain that the crying and weeping was becoming louder. They were perhaps a few yards from the child.
“This way! This way!” He announced, waving his arms wildly and they were running deeper and deeper into the woods, knocking low branches out of their way.
“Don’t worry Baby, help is coming.” Michael vowed, his lungs stinging from the cold and was running.
“Michael! Mike! Mike!” Marlon and Janet were calling after him, stumbling over tree roots and rocks doing their best to not lose him, as their platform shoes were not the best choice for this rugged terrain.
“Come on, hurry up!” Michael was sweeping his light back and forth wildly, trying to locate the child. His heart was pounding out his chest, he was so anxious and fearful.
That’s when Marlon said something that made Michael go colder than any of the plummeting temps surrounding him could.
“We don’t hear the crying anymore…its stopped!”
Michael came to an abrupt halt and stood, incredibly still for several moments.
His entire body seemed to sag as the realization hit him--Marlon was right. They could no longer hear the crying.
“Oh God…that…that poor baby…” Michael was instantly in tears his worst fears rushing to him and grabbing onto him. “It’s…it’s…”
He couldn’t even bring himself to form the words.
“It’s alright…we’ll get help.” Marlon was assuring him, patting at his shoulders. “That’s somebody’s child and I’m sure they’re missing them.
Marlon went to say more, but was drowned out drowned out by Janet beginning to shriek.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”
“What?” Both brother’s whirled around and Michael was shining the light in his sister’s face as she continued yelping.
“There’s something on my boot! I think it’s blood!” The girl yawped and shrieked some more.
“Blood?” Michael took his light off Janet’s frightened face and shone the beam on her pink boots.
Sure enough, there was a dark red substance on her left boot.
“Good Lord!” Marlon was staggering, as the sight of anything bloody weakened him.
Michael saw that the blood seemed to be coming from behind some low shrubbery about a foot from his sister.
“Stand back, move!” Michael was pushing the girl out the way and into Marlon’s arms.
Heart thudding in his ears, Michael managed to will up the courage to go over to the bushes and pushing them back was shining his light on the ground.
“Jesus Christ! No!”
The sight before him disturbed Michael so badly, that he dropped to all fours on the icy ground and was vomiting so fiercely, that Marlon and Janet came running to his aid.
“Mike! What is it? Talk to me!” Marlon begged as he and his sister were trying to pat after Michael who was simultaneously sobbing, screaming and puking.
Michael, still nauseous fell back onto his bottom and speechless, at a true loss of words, could only point.
Marlon, followed by Janet, was shoving the bushes back and taking a look.
Marlon, like Michael doubled over, head swimming, and the contents of his stomach coming out and spilling on the ground. And at some point, he managed to soil himself.
Behind them, Janet tumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap.
There, concealed by the bushes were two bodies.
That of a tiny infant girl, probably a newborn, completely naked, and covered in blood and perhaps the placenta. It appeared to be asleep, but it wasn’t.
No, this child’s chest wasn’t moving at all, and she was an ashen shade of blue. The baby wasn’t alive.
If the sight of a poor dead infant wasn’t awful enough, about two feet from the child was the body of a woman.
The mother.
But it didn’t appear that the woman had escaped into the woods and given birth, then died herself, leaving an unprotected child behind.
No, not at all.
The woman, who didn’t appear to be that much older than Michael or Marlon, was clad in a thin coat and dress, the dress had been raised up, her coat fanned behind her, drenched in a pool of blood. She had once been beautiful, with a small, oval face, and short, waved hair. Her eyes, once a pleasing shade of green, were now staring off, seeing nothing.
And the woman’s exposed tummy was what had Michael and Marlon trying to throw up their own skeletons.
The woman’s stomach appeared to have been quite literally ripped open, and a closer look would reveal that the woman and child were still linked by the umbilical cord.
Just what was this? An attempted baby abduction gone wrong? A murder? Both?
Michael, Jackson didn’t wait for an answer. He didn’t want one.
Leaping to his feet and around Marlon, he stooped and scooped up Janet, still out cold on the ground.
“Come on Marlon! Run! Run!” He screamed at his brother before, terrified, he began fleeing from the horrific scene.
Very close behind him, Michael could hear Marlon running behind, trying to keep up.
It was a very awkward and dangerous run, as the trio were whipped in the faces by low hanging branches, their clothes snagging and ripping.
At one point, Michael’s entire pant leg was ripped open by a low branch, exposing his leg  up to the thigh. Another branch ripped the arm of his jacket.
Marlon was also taking his own beating, falling several times, losing a shoe and getting his leather jacket torn to ribbons.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Michael’s car came into view and in a huff, Michael yanked the back door open, threw his sister into the backseat, and was scrambling into the front as Marlon was climbing over the hood to get around to the passenger’s side.
Smoke went up as he burned rubber to get away.
“Mike, did you see what the hell I saw?” Marlon stammered, his entire body shaking. “A woman and a baby--”
“They’re dead! Marlon, they were dead!” Michael was crying all over again as he was trying to control his car and keep from crashing he was so messed up. “Someone killed them! Oh Marlon!”
“”Michael, I got a wife and two kids at home. If anything like that ever happened to them--I’d die!” Marlon gasped and was holding his head in his hands.
“We’re going to the police. There’s a town coming up ahead…Premble, I think. We gotta get help man…that’s just horrible. Oh my God, that poor child!”
They didn’t know how long they were on the road, but eventually, they did reach the town of Premble, and the police station.
Driving into the nearly empty parking lot of the station, a low, squat building, Michael and Marlon leapt from the car, and paused a moment to look at Janet.
She was still knocked out in the backseat.
“You think she’s gonna be alright out here?” Michael wondered, staring at the girl.
“Yeah, she’s got her anger to keep her warm, come on Man!” Marlon was tugging at Michael’s arm.
Both men went running up the salt covered sidewalk and concrete steps and through the double doors of the building.
At that late hour of the morning, they found only one man on duty, a skinny policeman dozing behind his desk, a cup of long cold coffee before him and a half eaten, now-stale donut.
The visor of his hat had been pulled down over his eyes.
Across the room in a cell, a dirty drunk was sleeping off his night’s worth of libations.
“Hey! You! Help us! Help! Wake up!” Michael announced as he came around the desk and was shaking the man awake.
“Leave me alone, Emma, it ain’t our anniversary and it ain’t your birthday!” The man grumbled sleepily, and forgetting he was in a lawful setting, Michael drew back a hand, striking the cop with all the force he could muster.
The cop flew out his chair and landed on the tiled floor.
Alarmed, he put a hand to his face and was staring up at Michael in shock.
“Motherfucker, did you just hit me?” He demanded and  was slowly putting his hand onto the gun hanging in his holster.
“Mister, we got an emergency! We think we found a murder scene!” Marlon cried out as he and Michael, afraid of being shot put their hands up to shield themselves.
“A murder? Where?” The cop leapt to his feet, ready to spring into action and round up the rest of the force.
“Out over on Highway 76. Off the road, in the woods. We found…oh lord…” Michael clung to  Marlon as tears began streaming from his eyes.
“We found a woman and a baby--both dead, Sir.” Marlon, unaware of it, was doing his own crying, snot falling from his nose. “The baby had been crying, it stopped…”
Both brothers were unprepared for the policeman’s reaction.
“I want you two kids--I know you ain’t from around here--to forget what you done seen and go on home. Go on home and never speak about this again, you hear me?”
Michael couldn’t have looked more shocked if the deceased woman had strolled in with her baby in her arms.
“What the hell do you mean ‘forget it’? There’s a woman and baby dead out in the woods! Have you lost your damn mind?” Michael demanded and was pulling free from Marlon. “That’s someone’s wife! Someone’s child! Hell no I won’t forget it! What kind of a cop are you?”
Before the cop could respond, Michael turned to his shaken brother and informed him,
“Let’s get out of here. If this crooked son of a bitch won’t help us, we’ll find someone who will!”
As the men gave the cop a look of pure hate, and turned to leave the station, the cop blurted,
“What you kids saw…what you saw--it ain’t real. It ain’t real!”
Marlon spun on his heel.
“Look, my brother and I may look completely busted and screwed up right now, but I can guarantee you: We ain’t stupid. We know what we saw--”
The policeman stalked over to Marlon and was staring down at him harshly.
“I don’t know what you and your brother thought you saw, but I’m telling you--there ain’t no dead woman and child on Highway 76 in the woods, god damn it. And there hasn’t been since 1934.”
“Huh?” Michael and Marlon both stared at the policeman, trying to make heads and tails out of him.
“What you saw…it ain’t real. I don’t know how you boys are fixed for the paranormal and stuff like that, but--”
“Are you trying to tell us we saw a ghost?” Michael started.
“Of some people that died in 1934?” Marlon finished for him and they traded glances.
What was going on?
“Yes, let me guess. You saw a woman with her stomach bust open, in a dress and coat, with the baby still on the cord to her, right?” The cop asked and was taking his seat back behind his desk.
“Yes…” Michael confirmed and head spinning, he grabbed onto the desk to keep from sinking to the floor.
Marlon supported him from behind, his own knees weak..
“Yeah…” The cop nodded. “That’s not a strange occurrence in these parts around this time of year. You see, back in 1934, a woman named Liza Simmons who was expecting, worked as a house keeper to some people here in town--she lived in the woods as she and her husband, Richard, weren’t that fixed for money, you know. And she always walked to the street to be picked up by her boss…” The cop reached into his desk and came up with a box of donuts, offering them to the Jackson.
Both declined. Neither didn’t think they’d be able to eat again after what they’d seen.
Munching on another glazed donut, the cop spoke some more.
“So the boss, a rich lady named Pearl White gets there, no Liza. The woman gets out her car and goes to Liza’s house and finds Richard alone, eating his breakfast--he was factory worker here in town-- and tells him Liza wasn’t on the road. Well this worried Richard, because he’d seen his wife take off. He’d kissed her goodbye. So the two of them going running through the woods, calling for her. And I’m sure, just like you, they heard a baby crying…”
Michael and Marlon stiffened up, but said nothing.
“And suddenly the crying stopped. Then Pearl screamed and fainted, leaving Richard to find his wife and baby dead. Called the police, called the coroner. Damndest thing.. With the autopsy and all, they said that since Liza was on the side of the road, some driver must have hit her and knocked her back in the woods. Must have been doing some hell of a kind of speeding because she was hit so hard, it knocked the baby clean out her!”
Marlon sagged to the floor and crawled over to the trash can emptying what was left of his stomach into it.
Michael just sat there. Numb.
“We never did find out who did it. Richard died not too long after--from a broken heart people said. But this is right around the time, the anniversary of those lives cut short. When people start claiming to hear and see stuff…It was Liza’s first child--she was only seventeen. Damn shame….”
The cop went to say more, but Michael stood and started slowly making his way for the door.
“Just forget it kid, please! You can‘t do anything! You‘re decades too late!” The cop called after him as he left the station and took a seat on the front steps, head in his hands, trying to figure out just what he’d witnessed. What he had been through.
Tears of confusion fell from his eyes as Marlon emerged, just as shell-shocked as he.
He took a seat near him and as Michael blubbered that the whole episode had been his fault, Marlon tried to comfort him.
It took a good long while before both men could get their heads on straight enough to get back in their car and continue on to Dover. They had missed their flight, but caught a later one on home. They just really wanted to get as far away from Delaware as humanly possible.
As crazy as it all had been, the death and the bodies and the possibility that it had been an illusion, one good thing did come from it.
Janet had been scared straight, and never caused any sort of trouble, ever again.

THE END

The Legend of Annie Bagans

If there’s one thing I like, it a good, old-fashioned ghost story. As I a kid, I loved hearing stories that were so frightening, I’d have to sleep a few nights with the lights on1 But that was the idea that kept me coming back for more--that the stories were simply that: stories. For a couple of teens, a story will be more than just a few words of folklore.

“The Legend of Annie Bagans”

A Michael Jackson Horror Story By:

MJsLoveSlave

Rose Hill, Indiana
Summer, 1972

As dusk begins to turn the sky overhead from a crisp, bright blue to shades that are a mix of dark pink and brownish-purple, a young boy, standing near a light post at a street corner, fidgets impatiently.
It’s quite obvious to anyone pausing to pay him even a particle of attention, that this young boy, barely into his teens, is going on a date. Perhaps his very first.
The boy, tall, and gangly, is dressed casually, yet impeccably, in a red silk oxford, a few of the top buttons loosened to showcase the genuine shark’s tooth suspended from a thin gold chain around his long throat, paired with slim fitting, light-rinsed flared jeans, and on his feet, shining, brand-new red leather platform shoes.
His hair, in a rather large, perfectly picked and round afro, bobs as he shifts from one foot to the next--his feet still haven’t quite become accustomed to teetering around in four-inch heels that were the height of fashion.
Clutched in his long hands, is a single, fully-bloomed, white rose.
Absently, he begins to pace back and forth, a few steps here and there, glancing at the Batman watch on his wrist every so often.
Each time a car passes, he stops abruptly, staring, as though he has never seen a vehicle before.
He’s waiting for someone. Someone important.
This could be, perhaps, the most important meeting of his young existence.
“…It’s almost seven o’clock…where is she?”
The boy mumbles to himself, doing his best to resist the urge to scratch his head in thought. He couldn’t wreck his hair; it took him over an hour to get it that big and fluffy. And he used up all of his big brother’s Afro-Sheen to make it shine.
The boy’s dark eyes begin to dip at the corners as a saddening realization hits him.
“Maybe she isn’t coming. Maybe she doesn’t want to be seen with a loser like me. Maybe she found a better, more handsome guy to spend time with…” He ponders, vexed and dejected, holds the rose up, preparing to throw it down and proceed to the bus stop to wait on a ride back home.
“Hi Michael, is that for me?”
A sweet, almost musical voice, in close proximity to the anguished boy inquired and alarmed, he almost fell off of the curb and into the street.
Whirling around, he finds he is no longer alone.
Standing beside him, smiling coyly, is a girl.
A startlingly gorgeous girl, tall, even taller than Michael himself, and slim. Her hair, arranged in loose, black curls cascade over the shoulders of the lilac and white checkered blouse she wears with a matching lilac jumper. The lilac accentuated the queer, grayish-lavender color of her eyes, that were such a stark contrast to her even, cocoa complexion.
A complexion that matched Michael’s perfectly.
Looking up at this creature, dark eyes swelling Michael could only manage,
“H-h-hi Ursula.”
And the hand with the rose was jutted out to the girl.
Giggling, the sound sticking like warm honey in Michael’s ears, Ursula took the rose tucked it behind her right ear.
“It’s so pretty, thank you…” She was coming closer. He could smell her vanilla-scented perfume plainly and it was a delicious aroma wafting off the girl.
“I’m sorry I’m late, my little sister’s babysitter had a flat tire and I had to wait until she came, before I could leave…”
Poor Michael nearly wet himself, when soft, warm lips, sparkling with Ursula’s cherry flavored gloss pecked his cheek.
She kissed him! She kissed him!
Ursula Jenkins, the girl Michael had had a crush on since the second grade had just kissed him!
He was close to swooning as she slipped her arm through his, those pretty eyes of her on him expectantly.
It took a minute for it to connect to Michael that Ursula was waiting on him, now.
“Oh…” He snorted and was trying to maintain his composure.
Arm in arm, the two of them began ambling slowly, destined for the movie theatre about two blocks away.
Ursula ambled, Michael fairly floated he was so happy.
“Do…do you like scary movies?”
His heart immediately sank when Ursula replied,
“Not really…”
Then it soared when she added,
“…but I suppose, I could tolerate it, as long as you’re there to protect me, Michael.”
A goofy grin of unbridled glee came to Michael’s face and his small chest began to swell and poke out with a pride like he had never felt before. She wanted to be protected by him!
“What film is it?” Ursula questioned and for a moment, Michael had actually forgotten what they were going to see, his head was swimming so hard at the prospect that he had the prettiest, most popular girl in the ninth grade on his arm.
He wracked his brain for the title; it didn’t help that those eyes stayed on him and only him as they continued down the sidewalk, with Ursula never breaking her gaze as other boys went by.
Finally, the name came to him!
“It’s called Hitler’s Hell…” Michael trailed off when he felt Ursula coiling some of his hair around one of her fingers, her dark red nails glittering as the streetlamps were coming on.
She was playing in his hair, it was almost too much for him to bear. Ursula was paying attention to him; and seemed interested in what he had to say. He felt like a king!
“And what’s it about? Is it a war movie?” Ursula continued playing in his hair.
More confident than ever, Michael continued to puff up at the sign of affection and responded,
“No, not really. It’s about these historians that are researching Adolf Hitler’s last days in the bunker before he committed suicide with Eva Braun, and as they are digging around Germany, they uncover a mass grave…hundreds of bodies…” He explained as the colored, flashing lights of The Palace theatre were emerging on the horizon.
“…it was where the bodies people who were defectors where thrown, after being slaughtered for their cowardice. And now, with the grave disturbed, it unleashes a bunch of vengeful spirits onto the world. I heard it was banned in Germany, Austria and Switzerland for being too gory. I’m surprised they’re even showing it here in the States…”
Feeling bold, Michael reached out and grabbed Ursula’s tender hand, and was pleased beyond compare when she let him grasp it.
If this kept up, he was going to ask her to be his steady before the night went down!
Going steady with Ursula Jenkins…
Nearing the theatre, where a few dozen kids and teens already stood in line, Michael, with his free hand started fishing in the back pocket of his trousers.
“You don’t need to stand out here, Ursula.” He stated, the pride in him rising yet higher as several boys he knew were gaping in awe as the two of them reached the tail-end of the line.
They were clearly jealous and stewing.
Coming up with a crisp five dollar bill, he handed it to her.
“Go get in the snack line and buy whatever you like, it’s on me…”
He paused and impulsively added,
“Honey-Babe.”
He delighted in the way Ursula’s eyes danced at the term of endearment as she took the money, and turned, leaving him to bask in the glow of what Michael thought might have been love.
Yes, he had to ask her to be his steady!
It was a glow that faded less than a minute later, when Ursula returned, her small mouth puckered and quivering.
“What’s the matter?” Michael wondered as she came back to him, squishing the money into his hand.
He barely heard her whispered answer, but it crushed him just as hard as if the theatre itself had caved and landed on him:
“Hitler’s Hell is sold out.”
Normally, at such an immense letdown, Michael would have burst into tears, but with Ursula by his side, he had to maintain himself. Act like a  man and not the downtrodden little boy he was. Though it hurt him badly that he wasn’t going to be able to see the film he had been waiting for almost a year to see, he wasn’t going to let it ruin his date.
He’d have stood up to Hitler himself if he had to, to keep that date going smoothly and that light of happiness in Ursula’s eyes.
Taking a hold of Ursula’s hand again, he suggested,
“Would…would you like an ice cream or something? Sardi’s is right around the corner.”
Squeezing his hand, Ursula sucked in her bottom lip and nodded.
“Come on, let’s go…”

Sardi’s Ice Cream Emporium was relatively deserted, that warm summer’s evening, as Michael and Ursula sat in a booth, near the bay windows in the front, sharing a large banana fudge sundae.
Eating an entire spoonful of hot fudge, Michael’s eyes flickered all over the place, as he tried to come up with something interesting to talk about.
His eyes washed all over the pink and light blue neon interior of the eatery, at the lone soda jerk wiping down the counter and helping himself to all the maraschino cherries he could fit in his mouth, to the jukebox that was playing a disco instrumental.
No, there was nothing there that would spark an indulging conversation.
He glanced at Ursula, she was nibbling at a slice of banana.
They hadn’t spoken one word since they had sat down! If this continued, he feared Ursula was going to think he was a dud and never want to go out with him again.
And it had taken Michael weeks to work up the nerve to ask her out in the first place!
Starting to cry on the inside, Michael desperately scanned all over for something, anything to loosen his jaw for him.
That’s when something caught Michael’s eye, and it wasn’t his girlfriend-to-be’s pretty face.
Through the window of Sardi’s, he observed, perched on a hill in the distance, the jagged, inky outline of Saint Mary’s church.
A few seconds passed, with Michael staring at the old, abandoned cathedral. He had heard a story about that place, a story that would at least get a conversation to rolling with Ursula again.
He peeked at the girl; she was slowly eating all of the banana slices in the sundae, her spoon still sticking out of her half of the ice cream.
Before he could stop himself, his mouth had flown open.
“Hey Ursula…” He called to her, and his heart skipped as those eyes focused on him. “…do you know what happened up there at Saint Mary’s Cathedral?”
Another slice of fruit disappeared and her hair swayed as Ursula shook her head.
Feigning shock, Michael leaned back against the seat of the booth, the vinyl squeaking beneath him, and said,
“You mean, you’ve never heard The Legend of Annie Bagans?”
“No…what happened?” Ursula plucked the cherry from the top of the sundae and popped it into her mouth.
Pleased that he had an audience, Michael began to recall the tale.
“Well, I heard this story from my brother Marlon…he told it to me one night. He swears it’s true…”
Michael stopped and grinned stupidly as Ursula took a hold of his hand again.
“Annie Bagans was the only youngest child and only daughter born to Archibald Bagans, who used to be the richest man here in Rose Hill. He made his millions in the steel mills of Gary, about twenty miles from here. Before Annie came along, it was a family of boys--five boys: Archie, Jr., Arnold, Arliss, Arthur and Aaron. For the most part, the Bagans children lived a charmed life. They had expensive vacations to Europe each year, attended an elite private boarding school in Indianapolis…were members of the Rose Hill Country Club. Pillars of society here in town…”
Michael paused to eat more ice cream, Ursula’s eyes boring holes into him.
…In 1939, Annie turned sixteen and had the biggest coming-out party the town had ever seen. It was said to be a big Southern Ball, because that movie Gone with the Wind had just come out and everyone was nuts about it. It was a huge costume party and hundred of people attended. At her party, Annie met a young man, named Carl Bradley, who came from a wealthy family from Indianapolis and soon the two fell in love…”
Michael felt Ursula squeeze his hand at the mention of the word “love” and almost choked on his ice cream.
“…Both the Bagans and the Bradleys were pleased by this match and hoped that one day the two would marry and merge the families vast fortunes. They courted for two years and finally on Annie’s eighteenth birthday, October 7, 1941, Carl proposed. Exactly 2 months later on December 7, Pearl Harbor in Hawaii was bombed and the USA entered into World War Two against Germany and Japan.
Immediately after the attack, all of the Bagans boys and Carl Bradley signed up and joined the army to fight for their country.
In early 1942, they were all set to be shipped off. All the Bagans boys, though, in different companies, were going to some of the same places. Archie, Jr. and Arliss were going straight to Nuremberg, Germany, where the Nazi rallies used to be held and was the heart’s blood of the Nazi movement. Arthur, Arnold and Aaron were stationed in Berlin, with Carl being sent off to England.
Before he left, Carl promised Annie that on his very first furlough, they would marry…Carl left in February of 1942.
Annie did her part, participating in a local hospital tending to the ill and wounded who returned from the front.
In those first few months, the Bagans family suffered several tragedies.
Arnold, was shot and killed by a German sniper his third day on duty and both Arliss and Archie, though in different companies, contracted scarlet fever and died within a week of each other…”
Michael was interrupted by Ursula gasping,
“That’s just terrible! Three brothers lost like that!”
“I know, isn’t it just the pits?” Michael questioned, not really caring, just happy that his words were affecting his date.
“…In a world of horror, with their family falling apart and planning funerals left and right, a glimmer of hope and happiness came to them.
Annie and Carl wrote almost every day, and after about a month, Carl wrote that he would be coming home on August fifteenth.
After so much sadness, the Bagans threw themselves into preparing for Annie’s wedding. The whole town, with so many people losing loved ones and suffering so all turned in to help with this joyous occasion. The bakery worked around the clock with the preparing of the wedding cake, and local seamstresses worked shifts making a gown from rationed white satin for the bride.
The idea was that as soon as Carl stepped off the train in Indianapolis, he would be driven into town for his wedding.
The wedding was to be held in the Saint Mary’s Church, the church the Bagans all belonged to and worshiped at.
Everyone in town filed in for the festivities, many more from nearby cities and as the bride was primping with her mother and mother-in-law-to-be, Mr. Bagans drove into Indianapolis to pick up Carl. His future son-in-law…”
“…Over a hundred soldiers were at the train station and as Mr. Bagans swarmed through, looking and calling for Carl, someone grabbed his arm. It was his youngest son, Aaron!
Pleased beyond compare that one of his remaining sons was going to see his sister married, Mr. Bagans hugged the young man and laughed.
The happy reunion did not last for long.
As they hugged, an officer came up to them and asked if he was Mr. Archibald Bagans, Sr.
Mr. Bagans still all rosy-cheeked over his son, answered “Yes” and as happy until the man handed him two letters.
In them, his world came apart.
His last surviving son, Arthur, Jr. died in the line of duty when a bomb was exploded and he took on shrapnel, his injuries too severe to save him. In the other letter, his son-to-be, Carl, who was expected to marry his daughter that day, be home that day, was also dead…
A look of pure sadness came to Ursula’s face and Michael wondered if perhaps he was being too dramatic. He’d never forgive himself if that girl cried because of him.
 “…He was crushed to death while helping to rescue children from  the cellar of a bombed out orphanage.
That was it, of the six, happy, healthy young men that had left, only Aaron was left. And now Mr. Bagans is not only weighed with the task of telling his wife and daughter they’ had lost another member of their family, but that also, his daughter’s husband-to-be was dead. It was woefully tragic.
And it was a terrible scene at the church.
The church was decorated so wonderfully, with flowers and ribbons and streamers;  everyone in their Sunday best and Annie looking like a princess in all that precious satin.
Everyone wad happy to see Aaron and asking where Carl was, where was Carl?
Mr. Bagans tried to bring himself to tell his daughter the awful truth but she could see it right in his face without him uttering a word. Annie became hysterical and despite everyone’s efforts to calm her, telling her that Carl was a hero for his sacrifice.  she wouldn’t hear it.
Annie fled from the altar and seemed to disappear.
The entire town began combing the church and property for her.
From inside, her parents heard a scream, followed by more screams and cries for help.
They ran outside, but it was too late.
Annie, still in her wedding dress and veil lay in a crumpled heap just beyond the front doors of the church.
While some people claimed that Annie hadn’t leapt to her death on purpose, that she had been walking back and forth and become tangled in her long veil, and tripped by accident, other claimed that she had willfully jumped.
That was the final straw for the family.
Mrs. Bagans had to be institutionalized following the death of her daughter and sons, Mr. Bagans died three years afterwards of a heart attack--though others called said he died of a broken heart.
And Aaron lived until 1955, dying penniless from liver cancer induced by the alcoholism that plagued after experiencing such trauma…”
Michael leaned in, across the table, and dropped the clincher for the story onto Ursula.
“…If that wasn’t bad enough, and entire family wiped out, in 1960, fifteen years after the war ended, Carl Bradley returned to Indiana! Apparently, he’d been held hostage in a basement in England by a radical Nazi and was only able to escape after the man died. Carl had never been killed. And the whole death had been a mistake. The Carl Bradley that had died in 1942, was a man named Carl H. Bradley. And the Carl betrothed to Annie was Carl P. Bradley. He had never been killed. Carl finding out the disastrous ends of everyone, left Indiana never to be seen again…”
Letting go of Ursula’s hand, Michael pointed to the church.
“…Some people say that on dark, lonely nights, much like this one, the apparition of  Annie Bagans, can be seen, wandering around and through Saint Mary’s Cathedral, still wearing her sating gown looking for Carl…waiting for the marriage that will never come…”
Pretending to be mournful, Michael dropped his head.
Much to his satisfaction, Ursula questioned in a tiny voice,
“Do…do you really think there’s a ghost there, Michael? Has anyone seen it?”
Michael had been banking on being asked something in that vein.
“No, Marlon always claimed he was too scared to go look and see, but…” Michael brought his eyes up and met Ursula’s.
“…We can go give it a look over, if you want. I’m not a chicken like Marlon. I promise to protect you…”
His heart almost popped through his sternum when Ursula bobbed her head.
She was agreeing to go! She was agreeing!
On jellified legs, Michael excused himself to the “Little Boys’ Room” but never did enter it.
Instead, just out of sight of Ursula he went to the pay phone mounted on the wall between the bathrooms and called home.
It took quite a bit of begging, pleading, and finally bribing with two months worth of his allowance, but Michael talked his brother Marlon into sneaking into their mother’s bedroom and stealing one of her white nursing uniforms--and one of her many wigs--so he could come down to the church and pretend to be the ghost of Annie Bagans, just to sort of scare Ursula. He even went to far as to instruct Marlon to slather on some cold cream so that he appeared white and dead-like.
Michael wanted that willowy creature wrap herself around him for dear life so that he could play the superhero and save her from a “blood-thirsty” spirit.
Michael told his brother to be there in about thirty minutes.
Hanging up the phone, he returned to an unsuspecting Ursula, who had managed to consume the rest of the sundae in his absence and took her arm.
This was going to be a night to remember!

The walk from the Sardi’s in the center of town, the ten or so blocks out to Saint Mary’s Cathedral was one of the most thrilling trots Michael had ever made.
Night fallen, and though the only sounds in the night, as he and Ursula walked up the heavily woodened and dimply lit lane were the sounds of their footfalls on the pavement and the odd cricket chirping, Ursula was sticking to Michael like bark to a tree.
He hadn’t thought that his story was all that frightening, but it did his heart all the good in the world to have Ursula hugging his arm so tightly it was starting to bruise. Any closer and they’d have been wearing the same shoes!
While Michael may have been swelling with a false bravado, it began to deflate, just a bit, as Saint Mary’s came into view.
His flesh did crawl slightly at the sight of the centuries old church, surrounded by a low brick fence.
The entrance marked by two, weathered and crumbling angels.
There was inside the old church, as it had stopped being used sometime shortly before Michael had been born, when a new cathedral had been built closer to the town center.
Drawing closer, Michael and Ursula could see that what had once been lovely, ornate stained glass windows depicting the life of Christ, were mostly broken and covered thickly in dust and cobwebs.
The grass surround the church was wildly overgrown around the paved and weed-taken path that led to the front wooden doors of the church, one hanging crookedly, it’s rusted hinges barely supporting it.
If there was ever a desolate place to pass a night, this was it.
The effect wasn’t lost on Ursula, who after taking less than five steps past those broken angels, had her mouth to Michael’s ear.
“May…maybe we shouldn’t have come here. I’m getting the creeps--” She whimpered her head resting on Michael’s slim shoulder.
“Aw, don’t worry Honey-Babe.” He was patting at her arm, trying to be brave, but his voice cracked with his nerves.
His mind was spinning and hoping that Marlon had made it up to the church without being beaten to death on the bus for going out dressed in drag. But he had agreed to the money and needed to be there.
Shuffling up to the door of the church, he squinted at his watch. The glow in the dark arms showed it was about twenty-minutes to ten o’clock.
Yes, Marlon had had enough time to ride the bus out to that end of town. He had to be in the cathedral.
Michael looked to the doors. Indeed, it appeared one of the rickety doors had been pushed open a bit. Marlon was there.
Trying to tug Ursula past the doors, Michael spoke soothingly,
“There’s nothing here, Honey. Its just an old pile of bricks and wood. I bet the only thing moving in there now is some rats.”
Ursula gripped his arm tighter and whined,
“I don’t like rats!”
“No girl does, unless she’s an exterminator!” Michael chuckled and raised a hand to push the door open further.
BANG!
Michael was quite literally snatched off his feet as Ursula, still holding his arm, turned and tried to flee, managing to pull Michael from the doorway and halfway down the walk.
He didn’t even have time to consider the idea that Marlon might have been hurt if something had fallen over on him or given way beneath him.
“Ursula! Ursula! It’s okay! Stop! Ursula!” Michael cried, afraid his arm was going to be yanked clean out the socket, and it took some effort for him to dig his heels in and stop Ursula from dragging him back to town.
“Don’t be scared--”
“What was that Michael?” Ursula’s eyes were bulging in their sockets, showing her fear clearly as their color. “What made that noise? Oh I just know it was that Annie person! We shouldn’t have come here!”
Wrapping her arms around Michael, she buried her face against his throat.
Patting at her back, enjoying the hug more than he probably should have, Michael cooed,
“You’re safe with me! Nothing’s gonna happen. Michael’s here, Babe--”
“Oh Michael, I want to go home! Please walk me home! I want to get away!” Ursula pleaded, and for the first time, Michael noticed that Ursula was trembling.
She wasn’t just putting on, she was truly, genuinely frightened.
“Okay, we’ll go, don’t be scared. Let’s go. Come on.”
Taking Ursula’s hand, he started to tug her along with him, and found that she wasn’t moving.
“Ursula?” He questioned, staring at his date.
She wasn't looking at him, but at something, up over his head.
Her eyes were fixed, glassy and wide, her mouth parted, breaths coming shallowly.
Following her gaze, Michael saw what all the hubbub was about.
Way above them, on top of the church in what was left of the bell tower was a figure.
A forlorn looking creature, all in white, appeared to be gazing back down at them.
Marlon had completely outdone himself. He looked perfect!
He practically glowed in the dark, the white of his pilfered dress stood out so well against the backdrop. His face just as white  was as bright as the dress itself. His eyes were deep and dark in his face.
And though no breeze was to be felt that balmy night, the long curly wig on his brother’s head was up and flowing off to the right.
If he was hearing correctly, Marlon sounded like he was sobbing, just like a grief-stricken woman.
It was sensational!
Michael went to give Ursula’s hand a reassuring squeeze and found his hand was empty.
A few yards away, he could make out Ursula beating a speedy exit through the gateway, and back onto the street.
She was running away!
“Ursula! Come back! Urs--Ursula!” Michael was doing a full-out sprint in an effort to catch her.
Ursula was moving so fast, that they were nearly back to the main street of town by the time Michael caught her.
“Ursula!” He cried grabbing hold of her arm.
She was close to hysterics!
“Michael, I saw her! I saw Annie! I saw her! She was on top of the church! I saw her. She looked at me. God, she looked at me, Michael!”
Michael could not breathe he was being clutched so fiercely, and feeling that this prank had gone far enough, and though he burned with a fiery hot shame, he confessed.
“I’m sorry Ursula, but that wasn’t a ghost, that was my brother! That was Marlon, I made him dress up like that!”
Instantly, Ursula sprang from him, eyes narrowing. And he didn’t like the look of murder suddenly taking them over.
“Your brother? That was your damn brother? Why I oughta--”
“Michael!”
Just as Ursula wound up to tell Michael a few things about himself, a new voice broke the stillness of the night.
“Michael!”
Coming towards the bickering couple, was one heck of a sight.
Michael’s brother Marlon, that poor, cross-dressing boy, in the nursing uniform, cold cream and wig, was stomping towards him.
Michael felt his brow going up in wonder.
Marlon was walking from the direction of town…not from the cathedral!
“Marlon?” He questioned, a fluttering feeling in his tummy as Ursula stood pouting beside him.
“Hey, man…” Marlon huffed as he reached them. “I’m really sorry Mike. I had to walk all the way out here. The bus driver took one look at me in this getup and said…” He glanced at Ursula. “Well, I can’t repeat it with a girl present. But he wouldn’t even let me on the bus! I’m sorry I wasn’t able to make it.”
“What do you mean you weren’t able to make it? Why do you think we’re here?” Michael put his hands up into his hair exasperated. “We saw you, on top of the church man! Ursula saw you and ran!”
“Mmm-hmm!” Ursula was nodding, and punched Michael in the shoulder angrily.
Placing hands on his slim hips, what Marlon said next knocked every kink out of his brother’s head.
“I don’t know what in the hell y’all saw or thought you saw, but I’m telling you this: I JUST GOT HERE! The bus wouldn’t carry me! I had to WALK!”
Bones in Michael’s arm crunched as Ursula latched onto it again.
Michael himself was quite dizzy.
As he began to shake all over, he slowly turned and looked back up the lane to Saint Mary’s Cathedral.
The bones in his hand popped audibly, as Ursula latched onto it and demanded the obvious hoarsely,
“Michael…if your brother is here…what in God’s name did we see?”
Michael had no answers.
He had no words for what had been seen at Saint Mary’s Cathedral that night.
There was no explanation.

After a while, Ursula did forgive Michael for the prank he had tried to pull and they eventually did become a steady couple, just as Michael had wished and hoped for.
But they never went anywhere near Saint Mary’s Cathedral ever again.
Michael didn’t know if he and his girlfriend had actually come into contact with the spirit of Annie Bagans, and he didn’t want to find out if he had!

The End.