Us Haunting Them
Publication Year: 2011
Published by: Wayne State University Press
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Preface: Grim Reader
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When the editors first started talking about ghost stories several years ago, we talked for a quite a while before we asked each other if we actually believed there were such things as ghosts. Even when we finally popped that question, we equivocated. Sure, we’d both heard pretty convincing stories about something strange that happened, once, to someone who ...
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When I was sixteen, I saw two girls, my age, slip through a
fence in my backyard.
When I say slip, I mean that they did not walk through the fence, or climb over it. There was no gate or hole in the fence. It was chain link, the fence, and separated our yard from the Ratterinks’, and these girls walked across the backyard and slipped...
Not Even Lions and Tigers
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Harry Bennett put two and two together, and what he came
up with he was none too crazy about.
Sure, it made perfect sense that his hunting lodge now had a full-blown infestation of haints. Hindsight and all, it stood to reason, and he had to kick himself a little for not catching on sooner that this might be the deal. Those monkeys they’d rubbed out right there on the property, he probably should ...
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If the boys’ activity camp hadn’t been cancelled for that day, I wouldn’t have taken them to Greenfield Village, but it was. It’s not a fancy operation, that camp; Parks & Rec runs it out of a community-center basement. Melanie found it by looking for something cheaper than last year’s YMCA Sports & Fun Week. The idea was to give me a little time off the daily grind. I told her I didn’t need that, but she knew I did and signed them up ...
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One sunny afternoon in April, not long after her release from the hospital, Susanna looked out the front window of her apartment and saw someone sitting behind the wheel of her car. She had been tidying up the living room, putting books away, straightening three-month-old New Yorkers on the coffee table. She had only glanced out the window as she stooped to snatch...
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Some years ago my wife and I bought a home in western Michigan, just north of the Indiana border. The building was, as real-estate agents say, a fixer-upper, in sore need of TLC. Bulldozers hovered nearby. It would have been simple enough to raze the thing and start anew—but we restored the old farmhouse, ...
Bones on Bois Blanc
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The trip to Bois Blanc Island to bury Mom’s ashes at Lighthouse Point was supposed to be a quick, clean weekend dash, but when Quinn let his end of the pole slip again and the hard metal rapped Cass on the crown of her head before collapsing the top-heavy ten-man tent, Cass felt the cinders of her marriage, too, scattering fast in the brisk sweep of wind funneling ...
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They say spider ghosts run among the deaders in my family— deaders is what my Aunt Toots called those of us who have kicked the bucket. According to her, spider ghosting only happens to the women, some to a greater degree, some to a lesser. ’Course no gal in the family actually knows if she is a spider ghost until she’s dead, so there’s that. Aunt Toots told me it wasn’t a very good name for the phenomenon, because ...
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Mary Ellen’s friend Sasha had convinced her that estate sales were the way to save money in this terrible economy. The items were cheap to begin with and, if they weren’t reasonable enough, they could easily bargain them down. Mary Ellen didn’t want to go because she was too broke to buy anything— even if it was on sale—but in the end she relented because she ...
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Whole night long I ent sleep from the blasted summer heat. My room was in the front and I was afraid tief would climb in if I opened the window; plus the little fan was only blowing hot air. Then too I was busy all night making bakes with Mummy. She came to me in a dream for the hundredth time to show me how to make them. Over and over again when she was alive and even since she died a couple of years ago, Mummy ...
The Devil in Cross Village
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Whenever my partner, Marian, and I eat dinner at the Legs Inn, a famous Polish restaurant in Cross Village, Michigan, we walk off the potato pancakes, bigos, and nalesniki by visiting the crypt of Father Weikamp, a pierogi’s throw from the entrance. The crypt, a white clapboard building the dimensions of a garden shed, has a window in either side, and when Marian ...
The Man at the Edge
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“If we’re taking the kids there, we gotta have a gun,” Dan said,
just minutes after they found out that the annual statewide career
fair would be at Wayne State, down in Detroit.
“Come on, man. Nothing’s going to happen,” Mike had responded. But he knew he’d have to do it. People in his part of the state went to Detroit only for a Tigers’ game, once or twice in their lives, and when they did they always took something...
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The day Aunt Ezzie told us about it, we rolled our eyes. We were not a good audience. I was about ten at the time; my hair was long and especially blonde. I had spent the majority of the summer outdoors, playing in the nature preserve behind our house. I was one of those kids who caught frogs, turtles, and snakes in my father’s car-wash buckets, though I always ...
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Page Count: 224
Publication Year: 2011
Volume Title: N/a
Series Title: Made in Michigan Writers