The Toy Grave

Kip the golden retriever loses his ball and has to go into a strange yard to retrieve it. Problem is, the house is notoriously haunted.

The Toy Grave

Herman Jacobs

 

            Jason threw the ball and Kip bounded after it. He retrieved the ball and brought it back to his owner. Jason threw the ball harder than he usually did. The ball glanced off the ground, ricocheted against the wall, and sailed over the fence and into the neighbour’s yard.

            “Oops.”

            Kip stared at his owner. That had been his favourite ball.

            “Play again tomorrow, boy.” Jason said to his dog. He patted him on the head and went inside the house.

            Kip whined and pawed at the fence. There was no way he was going to leave that ball behind. He sprinted around the opposite side of the house and crossed into a different neighbour’s yard. Lying in a wooden dog house was an old German shepherd. The dog’s body was inside the dog house and his head and front paws were sticking out the front. He was fast asleep and snoring loudly.

            Kip bit him hard on the nose and the old dog yelped.

            “What was that for?” the old dog barked at Kip.

            “I need your help!” Kip said, out of breath. “My ball went into the yard on the other side, I need to get it back.”

            The old dog sighed. “You can’t get it back, that’s the Graveyard House. No ball has ever been recovered from there.”

            “But that’s my favourite ball! It’s the newest, shiniest, and chewiest ball I have. Come on! Help me out.”

            The old dog hesitated, then said, “You want help, go talk to the owl at the end of the street. She knows much more about that house than I do.”

            Kip wasted no time. He bolted off down the yard to where the street ended in a cul-de-sac. Beyond the cul-de-sac was a dense patch of tall pine trees. He went into the woods and stood in-front of an exceptionally tall tree. He barked a few loud barks, hoping the owl would hear him. No response. Kip whined and then barked again. A feathery head poked out from a hole in the tree.

            “Hoo goes there?” the owl said.

            “I need your help! My ball went into the yard of the Graveyard House and I"“

            “The Graveyard House? Foolish dog! Don’t you know why it’s called the Graveyard House? No toy that goes into that yard is ever recovered, it’s a graveyard of balls and frisbees and all the other things you house pets play with.”

            “Well, I’m going in either way.” Kip said defiantly. “And you’re going to help me.”

            “Boy, aren’t you listening to me? No animal ever dares go near that house. It’s haunted! In fact…” the owl crawled out of her hole and hopped onto a branch, “They say that the owner of the house and his faithful mutt haven’t been seen in fifty years! Word is that they died in that house, but that their spirits never left the property.”

            The owl leaned down and looked at Kip with huge amber eyes.

            “They say that some nights, if the wind is still and the fog is clear, you can see the ghost of the dog patrolling around the yard. Some have even claimed to see the dead man in the window.”

            Kip gulped. He had no idea it was that haunted. The thought of encountering the ghostly pair mortified him. But then his thoughts turned to the ball. That lovely ball. It bounced so well, and it was so nice and squishy in his mouth. He was not sure what colour it was, but it was so beautifully bright in contrast with the lawn. And in any case, as a dog it was his duty to retrieve any ball that was thrown for him.

            He couldn’t leave his ball behind. He had to fetch it, it was as simple as that.

            “I don’t have a choice. I have to go fetch that ball.”

            As Kip turned around to leave, the owl hooted and said, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

            Determined as he was, Kip still didn’t have the courage to venture in there alone. He decided to go to the adjacent street down the hill. He crossed the road and walked towards a reddish-brown house. On the lawn of the house was a fat pug, lazily basking in the sun and chewing a rubber toy.

            “Hey Charlie!” Kip called.

            The pug raised his head and looked at the retriever trotting towards him. Uh oh, he thought, here comes trouble.

            “I need your help with something. Come with me.”

            “Hold on a second.” Charlie said. “What are you up to this time?”

            “Nothing, just come with me.”

            When the pug still didn’t move, Kip said, “It’ll be fun, I promise!”

            “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s up.” Charlie continued chewing his toy.

            Kip laid down on the grass in front of Charlie. Leaning in closer, Kip told him what he was planning.

            “What?” Charlie’s toy dropped from his mouth. “You can’t go in there! No animal ever goes in there. Hell, even the neighbourhood kids are afraid of that place.”

            “You don’t understand, Charlie, I need to go in there. Jason threw the ball into the yard.”

            “Then get a new ball, for crying out loud!”

            After another few minutes of nagging by Kip, Charlie finally gave in and agreed to come with him.

            “But I’m waiting at the fence. I’m not setting a paw into that yard.”

            The pair made their way back to Kip’s house. They went around to the street running parallel to Kip’s own street and came to a crossroads that was shaded by tall trees. The woodland became denser and denser the further they went.

            “The landscape sure changes quickly.” Charlie said hesitantly. “One minute we’re in a sunny neighbourhood, a moment later we’re in this disturbingly dark and desolate street.”

            “Shut up. You’re just scaring yourself.” Kip replied, not breaking pace.

            “It makes no difference whether I scare myself or not, because I’m not going in either way.”

            They arrived at a large yard surrounded by an unpainted picket fence. The wood on the fence was rotting and here and there a picket was cracked or missing. A gravel path led to a rickety old three level farmhouse-style house. It was grey and brown, with all the paint having peeled off over time. A white curtain fluttered in the breeze from one open window. In the distance, behind the house, Kip could just barely see the tip of the fir tree that was in his own yard.

            Charlie turned to Kip.

            “Okay, listen. As your friend it is my duty to at least try to talk you out of this, even if it’s absolutely futile.”

            “You’re right, it is futile, so you can save your breath.”

            Littered on the decaying and weed ridden lawn of the property were all kinds of toys: tennis balls, baseballs, frisbees, an assortment of dog toys, and even a beach ball.

            Kip looked around for his ball. When he finally spotted a bright speck in the grass he was overjoyed, but his heart sank when he realised it was about five meters from the left side of the house.

            “It’s getting dark, Kip, you might want to get going.”

            Kip looked back up at the top left window from which the curtain was billowing. The inside of the house was pitch black. Kip imagined seeing a white face with inky black eye sockets staring back at him. He shivered.

            “You know, they say the ghost dog only patrols "”

            “Shut up Charlie!”

            Kip took a few tentative steps toward the picket fence, paused, and then leapt over it. He slowly made his way down the gravel path, head held down and eyes sweeping back and forth for any sign of danger. The sun was setting, and a dark shadow was descending over the house. As he inched his way towards the house, he passed old, worn out toys that had gone grey with age. He saw a knotted rope, similar to the one Charlie chewed on, lying on a patch of dead grass. The rope looked incredibly old and withered and sad, Kip thought. He was close to the house now, the ball was growing nearer and nearer. Kip started to feel extremely nervous, and he glanced up at the house, checking each open window to make sure there was no-one looking down at him. Kip looked at the front door. He wondered what was behind it. What does it look like inside? He asked himself. He wondered if he could sneak a quick peak. Maybe he would spot the ghost of the old man himself. Did he really want to? There was a window next to the front door that Kip would just able to see through if he leaned up against it on his hind legs.

            Kip crept up to right in front of the house and made his way to the window. He felt eyes on the back of his head and quickly spun around. Nothing. Anxiously, he glanced back at Charlie. Charlie was standing stock still at the fence, looking at something off to Kip’s left. He followed Charlie’s gaze and saw that it led around the side of house where his ball was.

            Kip swallowed and decided to abandon the window. He walked slowly and silently to the corner of the house, then, holding his breath, he quickly looked around the side. Nothing, again. Puzzled, he looked back at Charlie again, and saw that this time Charlie was staring up at a window on the top floor of the house. Kip was terrified. The hair on his back began to prickle and stand on end.

            As Kip went around the side of the house to retrieve the ball, the door slammed shut with a thunderous boom. Kip jumped out of his skin. He panicked and turned to the fence, ready to run for his life. He stopped mid-turn and decided to get the ball first. He snatched it up in his mouth and hauled tail as fast as he could towards Charlie.

            He jumped over the picket fence and crashed face first into the ground. Still retaining his grip on the ball, he swirled around and looked at the house. A white face disappeared from the side of a window.

            Terrified, the pair decided that they had had enough of the Graveyard House, so they made their way back to Kip’s house at a brisk pace.

            When they were finally safe in the yard, Kip dropped the ball and panted heavily. Charlie was ecstatic.

            “You made it! You made out of the Graveyard house!” he chortled. “Wait till the others hear about it. I’m telling you, Kip, they won’t believe it.”

            Charlie’s eyes were bulging with excitement.

            “We survived the Graveyard House, Kip!” Charlie hopped excitedly with each word.

            He was still telling Kip about their imminent fame in the neighbourhood when he noticed the blank expression on Kip’s face. Kip was staring down at the ball, unblinking.

            “What’s wrong with you, Kip? Are you alright?”

            Kip continued staring at the ball. He didn’t react, so Charlie prodded him again.

            “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

            After a moment Kip finally responded in a flat tone.

            “This isn’t my ball.” He looked up at Charlie. “I got the wrong ball.”

Author's Note

I'd like criticism and ratings, please.