Summary: Write a short spooky campfire or bedtime tale, or expand a previous Sourdough and give it a haunted twist.
Rating: G, Word Count: 2560
I do enjoy writing the spooky stories. The hard part was cutting it down from the 845 words I had when I finished writing the story. Hopefully the essence of spookiness is still here.
As Ben Cartwright came from the house with papers to take to town, he was addressed by his middle son who was sitting on the porch engaged in a checkers game with his younger brother.
“Pa, Adam said something about a doppelganger before he left for town.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, maybe like the man who used his name over there in Placerville?”
“A doppelganger is someone who looks so much like you that they could be you except they aren’t. Usually it’s used when it’s an evil person or it’s a spirit sent to haunt someone.”
“Oh, kinda weird then?”
“Yes, just fantasies that belong in books to entertain readers.”
“Don’t sound so entertaining to me.”
“Look at your younger brother there. He seems to be quite interested.”
Joe had been leaning forward to hear it all. Smiling, he had a question too.
“Are you meeting Adam in town?” At Ben’s nod, he asked a favor. “Could you tell Adam we’ll meet him at the dance? I hope he’s in a better mood than he was this morning.”
“If he ain’t Joe, we’ll josh around with him until he is.”
“Hoss, he hasn’t been in a joshing mood lately either.”
“Boys, he has a lot on his mind with these contracts we have to get settled so don’t get him upset.”
Though they promised not to do that, at the dance seeing Adam’s look, they couldn’t help themselves. Hoss started the teasing.
“Hey, Adam, we done met some guys who say they know you. They don’t like you at all.”
Joe added the punch line. “Of course, that doesn’t narrow the field much, does it?”
Staring at them, Adam didn’t react except verbally. “I’d rather be alone than be with you two. A man is known by the company he keeps.”
Joe was ready for that one. “You’d rather be alone? Heck, you couldn’t have worse company than that.”
Hoss guffawed. Joe had to cackle. Adam rolled his eyes. Once Hoss got his laughter under control, he had another question.
“Hey, older brother, don’t you want to dance?”
However, Joe was on a roll and was ready for that too. “Hoss, wouldn’t that look kind of weird: the two of you dancing together?”
Hoss started chuckling again. “Yeah, but old Adam can’t get women to dance cause he can’t hit ’em, shoot ’em, or smart mouth them into it.”
“I’m leaving. See you at home.”
Knowing they had gone too far, the brothers apologized but too late. Turning toward them, Adam glowered.
“I hope you can sleep well enough tonight and don’t wake up dead in the morning.”
When they got home later, they began to try to explain to their father, but he was confused.
“You couldn’t have been talking with Adam. He left for Sacramento on the express stage this afternoon. The contracts have to be delivered by November first and that’s tomorrow. It was the only way to be sure they would be. I brought Sport home with me.”
Shocked, Hoss had to ask. “You don’t suppose it was Adam’s doppelganger, do ya? I mean maybe Burns is trying it again?”
“Hoss, did you forget that Tom Burns is dead. He couldn’t do that again.”
Joe was worried. “Pa, it is All Hallow’s Eve though. Isn’t that when the souls of the dead can come back to walk among the living?”
“Joseph, you have been reading too many silly books. I am going to bed. You two should too.”
After Ben went to bed, Joe and Hoss decided they weren’t sleepy. Marathon checkers seemed wise.
Adam sat in his chair reading different poems by Edgar Allan Poe when Ben wished his boys goodnight.
“You’d better be getting to bed soon. We’ve got a bid day ahead,” Ben warned his sons.
“We will, Pa,” Joe replied, not looking up at the checkers game he and Hoss were playing.
Ben smiled and shook his head as he headed up the stairs. After a few minutes, Hoss looked up from the game to his older brother.
“What are you reading, Adam?” he asked.
“The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe,” Adam said without looking up from the book.
“Who?” Hoss asked.
Adam put his book down to look at Hoss annoyed for being interrupted.
“Edgar Allan Poe. He was a writer years ago and wrote scary tales,” Adam said.
“Really? Could you read us that story?” Hoss asked.
“Sure.”
Adam began to read it and made it sound scary. Hoss and Joe forgot their game and turned to Adam enthralled in the poem. Adam knew he got his brothers attention and really began to make it spookier. When Adam had finished it was quiet.
Behind Adam they heard a squeak from a floorboard and a loud voice boomed, “What are you doing?”
The boys jumped out of their seats. Adam turned as Joe and Hoss gaped wide-eyed at their father before scrambling up the stairs, with Ben laughing maniacally behind them.
Pranked!
Ben and Clementine exited Piper’s Opera House sharing smiles and laughter after the play they had just seen.
“Coo, Benjamin, when that body dropped from the ceiling, I thought Miss Abigail Jones was goin’ to faint dead away.” She paused in their walk to catch her breath.
Ben’s deep chuckling didn’t help. “And Joe’s expression was priceless when the headless horseman ran toward him. He’s not going to live that down any time soon when his brothers get wind of him running to the back of the theater.”
As the merriment settled down, the couple strolled happily to Clementine’s boarding house.
“Coo, Benjamin, I thought I left a lamp burnin’. Will ye come in until I get something lit, and perhaps have a spot o’ tea?”
“I’d be pleased to. Hand me the matches and I’ll light your lamps while you fix the tea.”
A short while later, the two friends enjoyed tea and crumpets while continuing their discussion of the play. It was All Hallows Eve and the school children had performed their own version of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
As Clemmie refilled their cups, a thump and moan came from the stairs. The two froze and looked at each other. Clemmie set the pot down, scooting closer to Ben. Before she could speak her thoughts, she watched in horror as Harry’s weights rose off the table. With a scream, Clemmie practically jumped into Ben’s lap.
“Benjamin, what’s ‘appenin’!”
Ben’s eyes were transfixed on the floating five hundred pound weight, but then were drawn toward the fireplace.
“It’s ‘arry’s tights, th-they’re dancin’.” She moaned and squeezed Ben’s neck so tightly he began to turn blue.
A voice came from above and around them. “Benjamin, you’ve done me Clemmie a disservice. I know ‘ow ye feel ‘bout ‘er. Ye need to tell ‘er, now. I won’t rest ‘till ye marry ‘er.”
Ben drew his gun before realizing he couldn’t shoot a voice. Instead he hollered at the voice. “Clementine and I are just friends. She’s fine with that so you can just leave us alone….Harry.”
“Oh Benjamin, my ‘arry ain’t one to give up. There’s only one thing you can do.”
Ben already looked horror-stricken but Clemmie’s suggestion made him stop breathing. “Clementine, you can’t be serious!” He squeaked out.
She reached up with both hands and yanked on his jacket lapels to pull him down. “Never more serious in me life. I’m terrified of ‘arry bein’ back from the grave. Please, Benjamin…”
Ben swallowed hard, knelt down, and looked up into Clemmie’s worried face. “Clementine, will you…” He never got to finish, for Clemmie broke out in a huge grin and laughter as she was joined by Adam, Hoss and Joe.
“Well, Pa…don’t let us interrupt you. Best be gettin’ on with it, Ducky, ‘fore ‘arry gets any madder.”
Ben slowly rose up to his full height bringing black eyes and brows to bear on each of his sons. Fuming, he silently snatched his hat, turned and headed to the door.
“Good night, Clementine.” And he was gone.
While the four pranksters continued laughing, Harry’s weights dropped and his tights began to float away from the fireplace.
The four froze, then clambered out the door, blaming Adam for the extra tricks, as Clemmie clung tightly to Hoss. “I didn’t do any of that!”
Sneaking out the way he came in, Ben could no longer contain his laughter after releasing the weights and maneuvering the tights. He decided he wouldn’t reveal that he had turned the prank around on the original pranksters, at least not for a while.
First time doing a sourdough.
Sixteen-year-old Hoss was lying in bed reading a book. That was until he heard his bedroom door creak. Looking up, he saw that it was cracked open, but there was no sign of anybody in the doorway. Figuring he just didn’t close the door tight enough and a draft pushed the door open, he returned to his book.
He had only read another paragraph when he felt something tickle the back of his neck. He jumped, sending his book flying across the bed.
Hoss turned at the sound of laughing. There on the floor next to the bed, Joe was in a fit of giggles.
“Dadburnit, Joe! What’cha doing scaring a fellow like that for?”
“It was only a joke. I thought you could handle a bit of teasing. You’ve been so tense recently with ranch work, I thought I’d lighten the mood a bit.”
“It’s not nice to go scaring a person when they’re reading. I didn’t even know you were in my room.”
“Well, that’s the whole point. I can’t scare you if you know I’m here.”
“No more, little brother. I don’t want you scaring me again. If you want someone to tease, go scare Pa.”
“Aww, come on, Hoss! You know Pa won’t be understanding of a joke like this. He’ll say I’m immature and that I’m too old for pranks. And with Adam away, you’re the only one left.” Joe put on his best puppy dog look in hopes that Hoss would feel guilty.
Not falling for Joe’s look of woe, Hoss shakes his head. “Sorry, brother. I can’t be getting scared like that especially right before bed. Speaking of bed, shouldn’t you be in yours?”
“Yeah. Sorry for scaring you Hoss.” Disappointed, Joe slowly headed back to his own room.
*****
A week later, Hoss was once again reading in his bed. Just like last time, there was a creak to his door before it slowly opened. Annoyed that Joe didn’t take him seriously and was trying to pull a prank on him again, Hoss turned to the right to yell at him only to find empty air. Thinking Joe had somehow escaped the room without him noticing, he pushed back the bed covers and stormed out of his room and down the stairs.
“Where is that little weasel! When I get my hands on him, he’s dead!”
Ben curiously watched his middle son storm into the great room. “Son, what’s the problem?”
“Joe is the problem! He was scaring and teasing me earlier this week. I told him to stop, but he tried to do it again tonight.”
“Hoss, Joe is on that overnight camping trip with Mitch and his father. It couldn’t be him.”
“Oh yeah. Guess I forgot. Sorry for disturbing you.”
Back in his room, Hoss returned to his bed, desperately hoping sleep would come to him. He had this feeling, though, that something was watching him from the shadows. Nope, he doubted there would be much sleep done tonight.
Well it’s been a while. I’ve got lots of reading to catch up on. One of these days. Anyway, I finally got something together, but had to have some help. This based on season 13 Search in Limbo.
Lost in Limbo
The taste of bile filled his mouth as his body flew into an interminable drop. His hands were bound behind his back with no hope of grabbing the rope in what would be a useless attempt to prolong his life. Perspiration beaded on his forehead while his tortured mind anticipated the snap that would end it all. Ben jerked in his sleep when his subconscious mind abruptly ended his fall and took control by changing the scene. Unaware of what he was doing, Ben reached for the back of his head. The throbbing pulse of pain felt as real as the day it all happened. The howl of the wind and the beat, beat, beat of the tree branches banging against the hotel sign haunted his dream. He felt the ominous clench of his gut as in his mind’s eye he looked up the stairway leading to Sid Langley’s office. Dizzy with pain, he climbed the stairs with unsteady steps and cautiously pushed open the door. Langley’s taunting laughter filled the room. A sudden glint of light reflected off the revolver Zina Harris pulled from the holster hanging on the coat tree. And then there was the powder flash and the shot rang out. A wad of cash flew from the panicked man’s hand as Langley staggered toward him. Sid Langley’s pleading voice echoed over and over in Ben’s swirling mind.
“Ben! Ben!”
Ben thrashed and moaned in his sleep as he relived the shooting again and again. But then another voice broke into his nightmare.
“Pa? Pa? Are you ok?” Jamie’s face held an odd glow in the light of the lamp he held. “Pa?”
Ben’s frantic movements slowed as the tormenting dream began to dissipate.
“Jamie.”, he whispered in relief.
“Yeah, Pa, it’s me. Sounded like you were having a real bad dream.”
Ben heaved a great sigh. “Yes, but I’m fine now. Sorry to worry you. You can go on back to bed.”
As Jamie stepped toward his father, Ben brushed back his silver hair and sat up on the edge of his bed. The boy set the lamp on the nightstand and slid onto the foot of the bed.
Ben offered him a weak smile. “Really, I’m fine. You need your rest. Go on now and get back to bed.”
“Would it help to talk about it?”
There was a low rumble in Ben’s chest. His youngest son’s caring heart was only outpaced by his determined spirit.
“Let’s just say, I haven’t quite come to grips with everything that happened in Mountain City. That’s all.”
Jamie gazed intently into his father’s tired eyes for a moment and then nodded. “Alright then. Goodnight, Pa.”
Picking up his lamp, the young man headed for the door.
“Jamie – I do appreciate your concern. Goodnight, son.”
Jamie turned to give a little shrug and his lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Sweet dreams, Pa”, he whispered before pulling the door closed.
Ben blew out a deep breath and climbed back under the covers.
