Kentucky Hauntings (12 page)

The truth was that the boys were not interested in fishing or swimming. They were often picked on by the other boys because they liked to read or sit around doing nothing instead of playing sports, and they wanted someplace to get away from the bullies. They liked to sit on the bank at the quarry and throw rocks into the water. They liked to read stories of monsters, so it was easy to imagine that some killer monster lurked in the scum and mud at the bottom of the quarry. They made up stories about the monster to see who could outdo the other in telling about the monster's escapades. They had formed a secret club, called the Monster Hunters, and they thought that the quarry was the perfect place to meet. It was only five miles down the road from where they lived, and they could easily reach it on their bicycles without being detected.

One day after a particularly hard PE class where they had been ridiculed by the usual bullies, the three boys could hardly wait to get off by themselves at the quarry. It was peaceful there, and they could forget about the sweaty, smelly gym. Here they didn't have to compete against anybody. Here it was just the three of them against the quarry monster, and they were always the winners.

The boys parked their bikes behind some bushes so they could not be seen by the road, and made their way to their favorite spot on the bank. They sat looking at the smooth surface of the water and talked about what the quarry must have been like when men and machines moved the rocks. Donnie stood up and walked right up to the water.

“Mom said that a girl was supposed to have drowned here while the quarry was in operation,” he said to the other boys.

“Yeah, I heard that, too,” said Derek. “Her boyfriend got mad at her and pushed her in the water.”

Aaron was listening intently to his two friends, so none of them heard the noise in the bushes behind them. None of them noticed that two boys from PE had followed them when class was over and had been listening to their conversation. Now the two intruders dashed up behind the boys before they knew what was happening. They shoved Donnie into the murky water and threw a couple of rocks at Aaron and Derek before jumping on their bicycles and taking off.

“Help! I can't swim!” cried Donnie, sinking under the surface.

His two friends wanted to help, but they didn't know how to swim very well, either. They stood there watching as their friend surfaced once and went down again. Then Derek sprang into action. He grabbed a limb that was on the ground near the bank. Aaron grabbed on, too, and together they carried it to the water's edge.

As Donnie came up again, he managed to grab hold of the limb they extended to him. Derek and Aaron doubted that they had the strength to pull Donnie from the water, but they knew it was his only chance.

Much to their amazement, the task proved to be fairly easy. It was almost as if someone were swimming and pushing Donnie along. One last tug and Donnie was on the bank, drenched in muddy water, but safe and sound.

They all sat on the bank quietly for a moment to catch their breath.

“Wow,” said Derek, “I wasn't sure we were going to make it at first.”

“Me either,” said Aaron.

“It was the strangest thing,” said Donnie. “I thought I was going to die for sure. Then I saw a white face in the water. Next, I felt hands holding me up and pushing me toward the bank while you guys were pulling me in. As I landed on the bank, whatever was pushing stopped and disappeared.”

“It must have been that girl who drowned,” said Aaron. “You know, the one they never found!”

It was getting late, so the boys left the quarry and hurried home. Of course, the muddy clothes betrayed their secret meeting place to their parents. Again, they forbade the boys to go there, but the boys didn't obey for long. This time, they had a special purpose for going.

They picked a beautiful bouquet of flowers and placed them on the bank. They threw a few flowers into the water, in case the girl really was in her watery grave there.

Donnie whispered, “Thank you!”

As they turned to go, they heard a splash in the water in the center of the quarry. They looked just in time to see a white figure go under the water. Then all was still.

When we were young children, we did not have an abundance of toys like kids do today. That made whatever toys we had extra special to us. A neighbor lady, Miss Foley, told this story, but other people had their own versions, too
.

Old stories that were passed from one generation to another often included surprising tales of toys with special powers.

The Gill family—Ben, Bonnie, and young Charlotte and Calvin—moved into a log house on the banks of the Cumberland River. They had inherited the place from Bonnie's aunt, who had raised her family in the old house. The inheritance couldn't have come at a better time for the Gills, because their house had been burned when lightning struck it and they had been left with no place to live. They had lost everything in the fire—furniture, the children's toys, everything—and they had no money with which to replace their belongings.

It was another stroke of good luck for the Gills that Bonnie's aunt had left some furniture in the house. Neighbors and other relatives gave them clothes, kitchen items, and bedding to help them set up housekeeping in the new place. Little Calvin made himself a fishing pole, but Charlotte had nothing special to play with. Bonnie and Ben told the children not to play near the river without them, so playtime by the water was limited.

Several days after they moved in, it rained so hard that the children's play area was even more restricted. They couldn't play outside, so they were bored and moped around the house until Calvin got an idea.

“Momma, may we play in the attic?” he asked.

Bonnie thought that was a wonderful idea, so she told them to go ahead.

Calvin and Charlotte hurriedly climbed the stairs and opened the attic door. They were greeted by a stuffy smell, but they ignored it and turned on the light by the door. As the light flooded the attic room, they were surprised to see several boxes lined up against the back wall. The excited children rushed to the boxes as though they were treasure chests. In the first box they found old clothes, blankets, and quilts. The next box contained old clothes and photo albums. The box after that held old dishes. Then they opened a box filled with old toys! Calvin took out two balls and some toy soldiers. Charlotte removed a toy tea set and a rag doll. When they had finished looking in all the boxes, they realized that the rainy day had passed without their hardly noticing.

When Bonnie called them for supper, the children decided to bring some of the toys downstairs to play with after the meal was over. Calvin chose the soldiers, and Charlotte picked up the doll.

Calvin was already heading for the stairs when Charlotte began screaming. He turned to see his sister throw the doll to the floor and begin to cry.

“What's wrong?” he asked. “What's the matter with you?”

“The doll!” she sobbed. “It opened its eyes and stared at me. Then it reached out one arm!”

“It couldn't do that,” Calvin told her. “It's a rag doll. Its eyes don't open, and its arms don't bend. It was just the shadows playing tricks on you.”

Their mother had heard her daughter's scream and had made it to the top of the stairs by then. Charlotte ran to her, still crying.

“What on earth is going on up here?” Bonnie asked the children.

Charlotte repeated her story while Calvin stood there shaking his head. He picked up the doll and handed it to his mother.

“See?” he said. “There's nothing wrong with it. It's just an old rag doll. Charlotte's crazy.”

“Hush that,” Bonnie told Calvin. “Now both of you come on down to supper. Calvin, bring the doll with your soldiers so we can take a look at it later.”

Calvin followed his mother and sister downstairs. He held the doll and soldiers out for his dad to see. Ben glanced at them and told Calvin to put them in the living room until after supper. When Calvin returned and took his place at the table, the family ate, mostly in silence.

After the dishes were done, Bonnie joined the rest of the family in the living room. They were all looking at the toys. Ben was pointing out to Charlotte that the rag doll was normal.

“I wonder who had this doll before I found it,” said Charlotte.

“It must have belonged to your cousin Emma,” said Bonnie. “She drowned near here in the river when she was just a little girl. She was a sweet child. I am sure she wouldn't mind your playing with her doll.”

The family experienced no other strange occurrence surrounding the doll, so Charlotte gradually set her fears aside. She named the doll Emma, after her dead cousin. She always kept the doll with her.

One day, Ben took Calvin with him to help a neighbor do some work on the next farm. About midafternoon, Bonnie heard a rumble of thunder and remembered that she had heard on the radio that they might have severe storms that night. If they did, the power might go out and they might need to light the lamps. She would need oil for the lamps, so she called Charlotte and sent her off to the store to get some.

“Stay on the path by the river, but don't go near the bank,” Bonnie told her. “Hurry and don't stop to play.”

“Okay,” promised Charlotte, as she hurried down the path.

Bonnie saw that the sky was darkening, so she rushed to get supper cooked. She kept an eye on the cloud and an eye on the path, hoping that Charlotte would get home before the storm hit. The clouds began to move faster, and Bonnie began to worry because Charlotte was not home yet. Then she heard the front door open.

“Charlotte, is that you?” she called.

“It's us,” called Ben. “We quit work early because of the storm.”

“Did you see Charlotte coming up the path?” she asked.

Calvin and Ben both shook their heads.

“Where'd she go?” asked Ben.

“I sent her to the store for some oil, but she hasn't come back yet. She's had plenty of time. I'm getting worried.”

“The cloud's so close, they probably kept her at the store,” Ben said. “I'll go over and get her when the storm's over.”

Just then, the rain arrived, and the three sat in the kitchen, thinking that Ben must be right about the storekeeper not letting Charlotte go out in the storm. Any adult would certainly keep a child inside. Still, they waited and silently worried. The wind thrashed the trees around and the lightning danced at the windows.

The lightning lit up a chair by the window, and Calvin noticed Charlotte had left her doll there. He walked over and picked it up.

“Look at this!” he exclaimed. “The doll's soaking wet!”

“Is the window open?” asked Ben.

“No,” said Calvin. “And everything else is dry.”

Calvin held the doll out away from him, and they could all see water dripping from her. They couldn't imagine why the doll would be wet.

“It's a message,” said Calvin. “It's trying to tell us that Charlotte is caught out in the storm!”

It seemed like a far-fetched idea to Ben Gill, but he had a nagging feeling that something was wrong. He couldn't take any chances. He grabbed his raincoat and ran down the path. He had gone only a short way when he saw the oil can by the pathway.

“Charlotte,” he called. “It's Daddy! Where are you?”

“Here,” she called. “Help me!”

He ran to the riverbank and saw Charlotte clinging to a limb that had broken from a tree. She reached out one hand and he took it.

“Give me your other hand,” he said.

She reached the other hand, and he pulled her from the water.

“You're okay now,” he told her. “I've got you.”

“Oh, Daddy!” she cried. “I was afraid you wouldn't come. The storm caught me before I could get home.”

“What happened?” Ben asked her.

“The wind blew me down, so I grabbed onto that tree and pulled myself up. I was holding on, but the limb broke and I fell into the river. I kept holding on, but sometimes my hands would slip off and I'd have to grab on again. It was the strangest thing, though. Something held me up in the water each time until I got my grip again.”

“Well, you're safe now,” he said. “We're going home.”

He took Charlotte's hand and led her to the path. With his other hand, he picked up the oil can, and they hurried home as fast as the storm would allow.

Bonnie quickly helped her daughter change into dry clothes, and she made some hot chocolate for all of them. The storm continued outside, but they were all safe now, thanks to Emma. They told Charlotte how the wet doll had made them realize she needed help.

“Did you fall into the river right there at the bend?” asked Bonnie.

“Yes,” said Charlotte.

“And you felt like something was holding you up?” Bonnie continued.

“Yes,” Charlotte said again.

“That's odd,” said Bonnie. “That's just where your little cousin Emma drowned years ago! Maybe that Emma gave you something besides giving you her doll. Maybe she held you up.”

“Was my doll really dripping wet?” asked Charlotte.

They all nodded, but Charlotte went to her doll to see for herself. She picked up the doll and then looked at the family with a puzzled look on her face.

“Are you sure she was wet?” she asked. “She's bone dry now!”

As far as the Gill family was concerned, a miracle had happened that day, and they never looked for any other answer.

This story was always hard to believe, but great-great-uncle Lightel Simpson told it as the truth.

Lightel Simpson had completed a successful day of deer hunting in the Kentucky backwoods and was a little tired from the day's activities. He had gutted the big buck he had shot and had hung it on the branch of a large tree in the back of his cabin. He figured he would cut it up after he rested a bit and ate a bite of supper.