Around every bend there is a story… And the bend that runs down this dirt road is a graveyard of tales. For you see there used to be a cemetery here. Not more than a hundred years ago. Then the county decided to put a road here. They had to carve straight though it so that could evenly run down into the valley below. But the head stones on either side still stood. Only now they had to compete with the trees and the tall weeds for attention from the sun.
The bank along the road stood five feet high. And some would say that when it rained hard enough the soil would loosen and occasionally a casket would pop out of the bank and slide down the muddy road. Of course… Others would say this was only a fable…. But I beg to differ…
I once knew a girl that lived at the bottom of that hill. She liked me fair enough but she always complained that I was too tense and never had fun. I would sometimes get off at her stop from school and hang with her. And just before dark I would walk home. But one evening it rained so hard that you couldn’t see two feet in front of you. So I decided to wait it out before walking up that long hill.
It wasn’t till after midnight, when the rain finally let up. Knowing how furious my parents would be I figured it best to leave then and not wait till morning. As I ventured up the hill I soon discovered that the road was very slick and I could only make small careful steps to avoid slipping. There was hardly any light at all so I stayed close to the bank. And the only sound I could here was the rain drops from the leaves and of course my shoes slopping in the mud.
But then out of nowhere came the sound of something large and heavy roaring down the road. With no sight to rely on I first figured it to be someone driving with no lights on, but then again I thought, it sounded more like it was sliding on a flat smooth surface than rolling on wheels. I braced myself as it past me. And when it did I swore I could I could hear a voice joyfully cry out," WEEEE!"
I tried to comprehend this, but I was simply too dumbfounded. So with minor distraught I continued up the hill. As I made it up the road a little farther I heard that roaring sound again. I cursed that girl for sharing her joint with me and promised never to smoke pot again. And as this phantom object past, I heard another voice booming with laughter. "WEE HAL!" it cried out.
I leaned against a bank holding my chest… Waiting for my heart calm down. I didn’t want to go any farther but I feared what might be waiting for me if I was to retreat. So I decided to pick up the pace and risk falling in hopes of getting home faster. When I was about half way up the hill the sky cleared and the moon was finally able to provide some light. But any feelings of comfort by this were short lived, because just then, before my very eyes I clearly saw a coffin sliding down the hill, heading straight for me.
The top lid was open and an old man sat up, waving his arms wildly as he shouted," Out of the way! Out of the way!" I don’t know how but I climbed that bank in a single, swift move. Poised on all fours, like a cat that just leaped from harms way, I watched the old man pass me, riding in his coffin. And though his face was pale, sunk in, and slightly decomposed, there was a twinkled in his eye that had more life
Than the eyes of a child.
He waved as he called out to me," It’s never too late to have a little fun, my dear boy! Never too late at all!"