Terror in the Eastern Woods

What evil lurks there?

On the road to the village, Enoch crossed paths with Thaddeus Fugate. Mr. Fugate paused and told him, nearly in a whisper, “They found another one”.

Enoch sat down his heavy basket of beets and said, “Another one?”

“Yeah.”

“Who?”

“The oldest Woolbright boy.”

“Georgie?”

“Afraid so.”

“Where? Where did they find him?”

“Eastern part of the woods, near the mounds.”

Thaddeus moved on without saying another word. He’d said enough. Enoch stood motionless in the road, trying to come to grips with the news.

How can this be? Everyone knew the old woman was responsible. She’s a witch, they all said. At the full moon, she changes into some sort of cruel beast, they said.  Indeed, many good village folk noticed her odd ways. That gnarled, strange-looking walking stick of hers and the way she went around tapping it all the time. As much as anything, though, were those eyes! Yes, she cast spells with the evil, glazed eye, while the other seemed benign and innocent. Treachery! Deceit! A jury of wise men found her guilty beyond all doubt and sent her to hang, and hang, she did.  We all heard the crack of her neck and saw those wicked eyes go dim. Justice was served and a problem solved, we all thought, but now……now, it has happened again!

Enoch delivered his beets to the market and quickly returned home.

Tea! I must have tea!

His hands shook as he filled the pot with water.

Where are the tea leaves? I can’t find the…oh, there they are. I fumble, I fret!

Chaos ensued, and it was only by some miracle that hot tea finally found its way into his cup.

Tea gives comfort, heh, heh. Yes, I’ve always thought so.

Several sips brought a measure of comfort and eased the shaking of his hands, but still, Enoch was beside himself.

It has happened again, but how? Has the witch returned from the dead? Could another have taken her place? The villagers have suffered too much already--they can’t endure anymore!  

Enoch Tolliver, a man of slight build and unsteady nerves, fretted and drank tea far into the night.

The good folk of the village---what grief they suffer! 

Glancing at the crude portrait on the wall of his late mother, he winced and looked away.

I know your picture isn’t very good, mother, but I thought the beet I used as a model was a good likeness. Okay, I’m sorry. Yes, yes, I know your hair wasn’t that leafy!

Enoch pretended to drop his spoon and quickly dove underneath the table after it.

Heh-heh, she can’t see me down here. Mother was always so critical! Uh-oh, the tea is up there.

Enoch sat back in his chair, smiled nervously at the portrait and jiggled his spoon.

She thinks I’m just a simple gardener, but she’s wrong. No, I’m a man to be reckoned with!

Enoch guzzled tea straight from the spout and pounded his fist on the table. Glaring defiantly at the picture, he announced, “There have been a series of brutal murders in the eastern woods, so it’s up to me to handle the situation!”

Heh-heh, I’ll escape mother’s ill gaze for a while, go over to Thaddeus’s cottage and get him to brew up a pot of that Earl Grey!

Having no bow or other weaponry, Enoch constructed a sling from two long lengths of his mother’s yarn and the tongue from an old boot.

What missiles shall I lob? I know---beets!

Armed with a sling, and his pockets full of beets, Enoch charged out into the night.

Thaddeus lives over that way…..I think. Heh-heh, evil menace, your doom is at hand!

Caffeine-rich blood speeding through his veins, Enoch ran through the forest, hopping over fallen logs, rocks and other obstacles as he went. 

Thaddeus lives just over that hill. I’d best approach quietly so that nagging wife of his doesn’t wake up.

Enoch moved stealthily toward the hilltop.

Ha, I’m so quiet; no one will know I’m coming. Just a few more steps and I’ll see his cottage. Uh-oh, I need to drain my water.

Enoch leaned against a tree and began to relieve himself. As he enjoyed the soothing relief, he peered over the hilltop.

What the……? I must be lost---those are the mounds down there!

Tap-tap, tap-tap!

Curses! The witch!

Fear-stricken, he threw himself on the ground and tried to cover up with leaves.

These leaves are wet. Oh, what misfortune I suffer!

Tap-tap! Tap-tap!

An hour passed and the horrible sound not only continued, but seemed to come nearer.

Tap, tap, tap! 

Oh, terrible tapping sound, how I fear you! Dear mother, your son is about to join you on that far, distant shore…….

From the darkness came an angry voice, saying, “Oh, no you’re not!”

Enoch shook with fear and squeaked, “Mother, is that you?”

“Why, of course it is!”

“But, why are you here? Shouldn’t you stay in that nice pine box I made for you?”

“Hear me, Enoch Tolliver!”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

A cold, invisible finger poked Enoch in the chest. “Where are my grandchildren, Enoch?”

“Uh, I guess you don’t have any, mother.”

“And why not?”

“Well, uh….. I’ve never found a wife?”

“You break my poor heart, Enoch! Thirty-nine years old, and still unmarried!”

“There just aren’t any good ones around here, mother.”

“Liar! You’ve never found a wife because you’re a coward!”

“Me, a coward?”

“Yes, just look at you--you’re lying in your own urine.”

“Oh, that’s not fair, mother. I drank too much tea, that’s all.”

“Alright. If you’re not a coward, then prove it to me. Stand up and face your fears!”

Enoch whimpered, “But mother……”

“Do it now! If you don’t learn to be a man, find a woman and give me some grandchildren, I’ll put a curse on you! For the rest of your life, every drop of tea will taste like rotten potato peels!”

With great effort, Enoch held to the side of a tree and raised himself to about three-quarters height.

“Straighter, son!”

Tap-tap! Tap-tap-tap!

“Mother…..the terrible tapping!”

“Be brave, son! Show me that you’ve got one drop of your mother’s blood in you!”

Enoch grabbed a beet, loaded it into his sling, and began to vigorously twirl it around his head.

Tap-tap, tap-tap!

Woosh, woosh, woosh!

Tap-tap!

Woosh-woosh!

Splut-wrrr-wrrr-wrrr-wrrr!

“Aaaahhhh!”

“Son, you really, really disappoint me.”

***

The next morning, Bessie Grissel picked mushrooms in the forest and heard a moan. Warily looking all about for the source of the sound, she eventually discovered Enoch tied to a tree in quite an awkward manner.

Being a kind, helpful sort of woman, she asked, “Sir, would you like for me to untie you?”

Enoch looked up at her with grateful eyes and replied, “Could you, please?”

Bessie unwound the yarn from around Enoch’s arms and neck, and then, with a small stick, dislodged a quantity of woodpecker droppings from his hair.

Enoch grinned sheepishly and asked her, “D-do you know of the evil that lurks in these woods? I fear it nearly got me last night.”

“Oh, you must mean the troll."

"A troll?"

"Yes, it often comes to this area after dark, searching for something to eat."

“Oh, horrors, I could have been an easy meal for that thing, tied to this tree, as I was!”

Bessie flicked a woodpecker dropping from Enoch’s ear and told him, “No, Gumhold only eats sheep and goats, but being blind, he does accidentally step on people sometimes. He sticks to open spaces, so you were quite safe here in the woods.

“B-Bessie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you like tea?”

                                   The End

 

 

Reviews

[AnnR]

There is a lot going on in this short story--lots of characters, names of characters, and a surprise visit from Mum at an inopportune time. There are several things that strike me right off about this story. First, you certainly know how to begin a story in the middle of a muddle and draw the reader in with lots of action. So high marks for that and also pace-- as the story gallops along and the reader is not just drawn but carried along with the narrative. Character development is so-so, but could easily be expanded or expounded with the same humor and delight that carried the story from beginning to end. I am wondering about the personal motivation which propels Enoch on his mission--especially since acts of of bravery and daring do seem not to be part of his general character. Give us a good reason why Enoch feels compelled to take-on his mission... yes, I know other people have been killed and whoever is doing the killing is surely a menace, but what makes this amusing sad-sack, tea-swilling, couch potato feel HE must be the one to put an end to it? That's what I mean about exploring his movitation. He needs a good reason-- because somehow these acts have touched him personally-- and as I reader I want to know more about that. Mum's complaints with Enoch are rather off the point. Short stories, by nature of their bevity, tend to focus on one main point--like going after the killer, so bringing in Mum with a different, off-the-subject agenda dilutes the strength of the narrative, though, admittedly, it adds to Enoch's characterization. The humor and delight in names is also apparent (though in a short story it's best not to mention lots of names or characters that don't directly contribute to the main focus and action of the story) as it's confusing to readers who are trying to suss out who and what the story is really about.
Still, all things considered, this story shows a lot of ability and feeling for getting the reader "into" a story quickly, which is a rare talent, and one which will bring readers back time and again

[Angi]

Does Enoch have a brother named Norman? Sounds like they have the same mother. I really liked this story. I groaned aloud when he tried to cover up with wet leaves. Nice work!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks, Angi. I think Enoch must be an only child.

[Claire Twinn]

I love the whimsical nonsense of this and the last three lines really made me laugh. Thanks for the chuckles Sam.

[emmy bon]

wow! what a story i really enjoyed it to the end, nice one you got sir

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you so much, Emmy. I appreciate your comments.

[Mark]

I hardly ever am able to read a story straight to the end without my attention wavering and I commend you for the fast pace you set and hold to. I was fully involved from the beginning though there was a moment of distraction when, lacking any physical reference, I imagined Enoch as some sort of burly guy (the heavy basket of beets) and then I got a little confused towards the middle there as it became evident that Enoch was a coward.

Having said that I found it out o character for him to go visit Thaddeus, and was wondering just what he may have fortified that tea with to give him such courage.

The ending was confusing to me as it appears that his Mother is the villain, but then we discover it is actually a troll.

All in all, well written just a little work on character and plot in my opinion!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks a lot, Mark. I appreciate your honest comments.

[Audrey Howitt]

Aww--I loved this!

[Samuel Dickens]

Thank you, Audrey

[lawrence bear]

you are quite the story teller Sam, I enjoyed this story. :)

[rebecca j rivera]

I really enjoyed this Sam. thank you

[Samuel Dickens]

I'm glad you enjoyed it, Rebecca.

[Renée J. Martin]

Oh this was darling ! I do love your story telling Mr. Dickens !! Then you add tea which I adore ...THEN the name Fugate...a family name I know of...well how could I resist reading ! ( ;

[Dean Kuch®]

HAH! This was funny! Poor ol' Enoch...or maybe not? Good stuff Sam!

[MoriartyMesa]

This makes me think of something you would see in Michael Palins Ripping Yarns. I laughed a lot, not sure if it was in the right places. But at one point I could hear Terry Jones as the mother.