Hurried Life.
+++++++++++++++++++



As the first drops of rain begin to hit the wind shield, he looks down at the speedometer of the BMW. He’s only doing sixty five miles per hour, and the road conditions had only slightly worsened in the past twenty minutes or so, so he pushes his speed up to seventy five. The morning commute was bad enough driving all of the way from Sutton to Cantorville, almost all the way on Crow Crossing Road. this morning though it was the worst, he’d had a flat tire almost three quarters of the way there, and it caused him to fall behind on his tight schedule. He’d had to stay at the office an extra two hours to make up for lost time and it put his shift at a tough thirteen hours total. He had to put fifty miles behind him quickly to get home in time for dinner and to be in bed by nine pm, and it was already seventy thirty. He thinks that he isn’t going to make it, so he pushes harder on the accelerator petal pushing his speed up to eighty miles per hour. The next thing he remembers is the right front tire begins to shake violently, and as he over compensates by yanking hard on the steering wheel the car veers sharply sideways and begins to roll over several times. The next thing he knows is he is laying down in the wet grass looking up at the rain clouds. He pulls himself up and is now on his hands and knees. Through the dark rainy night he can see the car laying on its side. One wheel is still turning, and the night draws eerily quiet. That is when he first hears the soft almost raspy voice coming to him through the rain.
“Go on Charlie. Look at it. Look hard at what you’ve done. And then ask yourself. Is this really worth it?”
He tries to stand but his legs are completely numb and he falls down on his side. He answers the voice without questioning it.
“I don’t know what to think right now.”
“I know what your thinking Charlie. You’re thinking the same thing that everyone is thinking when they find themselves in this very position. Do I deserve to die?”
He blinks almost involuntarily.
“I don’t recall asking that . But I suppose it is a good question. So do I? deserve to die I mean?”
He can feel the moisture of the rain as it begins to seep through his clothes, but the voice is all that he can hear now.
“I would think that a better question to ask yourself is do I really deserve to live?”
“I have a life. A wife. Two beautiful kids.. A big house. Cars.”
“No Charlie. That isn’t your life. that’s your existence. Your work that’s your life isn’t it?”
He looks up at the rain unable to answer. The cold water splashes across his face . Too many things that he REALLY did want to do, but never had quite enough time in his daily schedule. He wanted to take his son fishing. Be there when his daughter scored the winning goal in her soccer game. To look into the eyes of his beautiful wife to tell her how much he really did love her.
“ Funny isn’t it Charlie? How so many people- no. too many people spend the most important part of their lives trying to make a living . Too busy to actually do any living.”

Epiphany.
++++++++++++



Now he can’t hear anything. More rain comes. The numbness, the emptiness returns, filling him, he lays there waiting for the voice to return. He certain that he will not survive beyond this night.
“Emma.. I wish you were here baby. I’m so cold without you. Hug the kids. Tell them to pray for daddy.”
“So. that’s it then? Ready to give up are you?. Hmmm. Charlie. Is that what you really want to do? Give up?. But there’s a catch there too Charlie. You’re not just giving up on you, you’re giving up on them too.”
“ But. If I’m going to die? .. How can I . stop it? I have no control over-”
“Charles Hatcher.. I am about to do you a great service. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Oh its not a huge secret.. In fact there are people in the world who have always known it. You see, Charlie think about. Life isn’t about control. The wealthy think that their money gives them complete control over their destiny, with it they fight with age, they fool themselves into thinking that life is forever, and they can buy their way out of anything. But control Charlie. It’s merely an illusion. No one is in control. No one knows what fate holds in store for them. Life isn’t about control Charlie, it’s all about-.”
He hears them in the distance roaring over the beating rain, sirens. Sweet beautiful sirens. And as the ambulance pulls up to the over turned vehicle he knows they will find him. The voices seem distant, but are distinct.
“C’mon Joey. Find him. She said that he was laying in the tall grass.”
And as suddenly as the world had turned upside down they were on him, picking him up, putting him on the stretcher.
“You’re not a ghost Charlie.. Not yet anyway.”
“His blood pressure is normal.. Heart rate normal. He has a few minor cuts but that’s about it. We’ll have to check him for broken bones though, lets get him to Mercy Hospital.”
They’re loading him now, and as they pick up the stretcher and carry it to the ambulance, he sees in the rain the Crow that has landed on the top of the back of the ambulance staring down at him.
“No control Charlie. Only what is and what isn’t. oh you will survive life.
But the living part. that’s up to you.”
No one was there to see. No one saw. And yet the woman on the phone that had identified herself as Emma Hatcher knew that her husband had an accident, and knew exactly where the accident took had taken place. The ambulance driver closes the door and pauses to look up at the Crow sitting on the top of the carriage. He smiles at his partner nodding towards the Crow. .
“Maybe he told her where the accident was.”
They laugh nervously at the beautiful bird. And return to the front of the ambulance. And the crow returns to the air. For he knows that there are enough restless spirits here tonight already, roaming their world, searching endlessly for unreachable answers here on Crows Crossing Road.

~Scratch A.B.T. Copyright © 2008.~

Chimbrook Manor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The sun has made its way through the top of the towering canopy of trees and foliage that surround the small stream that is called “Chimbrook” Alan Casey and his young girlfriend Ann Somers have hiked three miles through the woods from the edge of Crows Crossing Road. With metal detectors in hand they are here treasure seeking, for they know of the history of this cold damp and dark place. They have been at it for four hours and have come up with a small pouch of old coins for their considerable labor. However it isn’t enough for Alan Casey, for he knows that up here there is a place that promises treasure beyond his wildest dreams. They follow the stream up the side of the hill and when they round the top deep into the cover he sees it standing there like a defiant giant.
“We’re here.” he tells her.
Ann Somers does not look impressed.
“Where’s here?”
“Chimbrook Manor.” he tells her.
She stops in her tracks suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread. She sits down on a stump and studies the dark silent giant of a house. She looks at Alan Casey.
“No Alan.. I have a bad feeling about this place.. Lets go back to the road.”
Now he’s sitting next to her, and as he puts his arm around her, an odd little breeze kicks up at their back giving Ann Somers a slight but noticeable chill that only adds to her discomfort. He draws a deep breath.
“Ok.. This house is why we came here. there’s money hidden in that house.”
She shudders at the thought. His warm breath brushes across her cheek as he relates to her what he knows of the tale of Chimbrook Manor.

Crow Speak.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~



“It was built by Arthur James Chimbrook in 1896 for his young lady love Lila Longstreet. He was much older than her, and people kind of frowned on the relationship. So he built this place to get her away from the prying eyes of other people, where they could be together forever.”
She stands abruptly her face turning slightly pale.
“Oh God!!. I know this story.. He took all of his money out of the bank and brought it up here and forced Lila to stay with him. He hid it somewhere in this house or somewhere around it. Nobody has ever been able to locate it.
But God Alan! Haven’t you ever heard the rest of this story??”
He blinks and sits back down.
“His jealousy drove him insane. She tried to leave him and he kept her prisoner here. And when a member of her family came to take her back to town, he thought the young man was a suitor so he murdered them both right there in the parlor with a wheat sheath. And when the rest of her family finally came two weeks later they discovered the dismembered body parts, but Arthur was no where to be seen. They say that he just disappeared into the woods here, never to be seen again. Alan we have to leave.. People have disappeared up here. Honey-”
He puts his hand on her shoulder and tries to reassure her.
“Baby look.. I didn’t come up here for nothing see? I came up here to bring something back with us. Its in the middle of the day and there are no ghosts. What will it hurt just to take a peek? You wait for me here I‘ll go in alone for just a few minutes, if I don‘t see anything I‘ll come back straight away.. Ok?”

Not a word.
~~~~~~~~~~~~



The two trees that sit on either side of the dilapidated old wooden porch each have a branch that has grown over its sides and it gives it a strange appearance. It almost looks as if two giant wooden arms are reaching out to welcome him. But it isn’t until the two black crows land on those branches and begin to squawk incessantly at him that he takes a small step backwards, and he slowly moves forward making a shooing gesture to make them leave but the two beautiful birds remained unmoved. He cautiously moves between them and the squawking begins again, he steps inside of the large expansion of the doorway and his eyes strain through the darkness to look deeper into the old house, each step he takes drawing him farther and farther into its darkened recesses. He moves towards the parlor, and there he sees in the middle of the floor a small wooden box, he smiles to himself, this looks promising, he slowly enters the parlor and moves towards the box, he sits down on both knees and begins to open it, not daring to think even to himself that this was where the deed was done so many years ago. Outside of Chimbrook Manor, Ann Somers sits patiently waiting for her man to return. But minutes soon turn into hours and it is now past 12:00 pm. And she has been waiting for two and a half hours. She slowly stands and begins to reluctantly approach Chimbrook, the crows have not left.. And once she reaches the front door the pair of birds look on in silent indifference. Inside she seems to have a clear view of the now partially opened parlor door, she puts her hand on the front and slowly it glides open with a soft creaking noise. She sees Alan in the middle of the floor on his knee’s, and she softly calls to him with no answer. She slowly moves up behind him and places her hand on his shoulder and gives him a small nudge. And when his head slides free from his neck in a clean break and falls to the floor, she can feel the screams choke up in her throat.

C.C.R.



It is just past 5:30 pm on the road of crows, when patrolman Derek Clancy sees the young woman stumbling along in the tall grass beside of Crows Crossing Road. When he stops to check on her, he sees that she seems to be in a daze.
“Miss?”
She stops to look back at him, there in her eyes a vacant stare. But no answer escapes her throat.
“Miss Its going to be cold out here tonight.. Its supposed to drop below 30 degrees. You don’t want to be walking out here on Crow Crossing at night. Would you like a ride-”
His sentence stops when he detects the sight of blood on her hands. And fearing that she may be injured he calls for a ambulance. She sits down in the cruiser and he takes his coat off and covers her with it. A lone crow lands on the lights and he studies it. He stands almost touching it. And it doesn’t move.
“You brought her here.. Didn’t you?.. She was up there in them damn woods somewhere.. Wasn’t she?”
The crow turns its head against the growing breeze. And for a second he could almost hear it speak to him.
“There are some mysteries in this life, that do not wish to be solved. There is no rhyme, nor reason. There is only what is, and what isn’t, and what will never be.”
He turns his collar up at the growing breeze and lights a cigarette, silently watching the young woman quivering in his cruiser, he hopes the ambulance arrives soon.. Its cold when your all alone here on Crows Crossing Road.

~Scratch.. A.B.T. copyright © 2008.~

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Leaning towards the glow, he could no longer see it as brilliantly as before. He lingered on the thought for a moment before passing a look of confusion onto his partner.
“Jacob? Didn’t you see that? Didn’t you see that beautiful light?”
The senior patrolman nodded to the affirmative.
“Yeah, I saw it Trevor.” he tells his rookie partner. “Well maybe not that one in particular, but others like it. See pard.. You’re patrolling the most haunted stretch of highway in America. There are ghost lights here.. Ghost horses.. Dogs.. Birds.. Cats.. And yeah.. Even people. I see shit here every day.. Every night.. And I would love to just sit and watch to see what happens. But understand, its our job to patrol this highway. We can’t stop and stare every time you see a light in the dark.”
He pulls the gear lever into the drive position and slowly begins to accelerate towards junction 40 on Crows Crossing Road. Patrolman Trevor Collins stares out of his window into the dark rainy night and ponders what he has seen. A light he spied, never so brilliant a light before, had he ever seen. But what was it out there in the waiting woods? A Ghost? Never before. A illuminated soul wandering the night woods along Crows Crossing? Strange lights indeed. The cruiser pulls into Adele’s roadside diner at twenty minutes before midnight.
Officer Jacob Cower hadn’t slept well in the hours before he came on shift, and he still had another seven hours to pull. In dire need of stimulant he orders up two cups of coffee from Adele’s, one, a double black for himself and one for his new partner, which he happily accepts.
“Its your turn to drive Trevor.: he instructs the rookie as they return to the cruiser. And Trevor Collins settles into the drivers side of the vehicle. He pulls back onto the road of Crows just five minutes before midnight and begins to drive east. The double black coffee has little effect on Jacob Cowers weary mind and he slowly drifts off to sleep leaving Trevor Collins to the inner workings of his own imagination.



The road rolls by in front of him, and officer Trevor Collins thinks that the cold wet asphalt very much resembles a sheet of never ending black glass. He tries to train his thoughts to the task of driving but they soon return to the beautiful bright lights that he’d seen earlier in the western woods before they’d arrived at Adele’s.
“Why do I really need to understand every little thing that I see?” He asks himself.
From the corner of his eye, he can make out the faint image of light slowly rolling through the trees to his left, and he begins to slow down the vehicles speed, slower yet. Now the light has become stationary and he finds himself transfixed upon the sight. Slowly the cruiser drifts to the left lane, slower yet. His partner continues his nap. A nap from which he will never awaken. The cruiser rolls to a slow stop into the oncoming lane, just below Tag’s hill near the bottom. The light in the woods begin to grow dim as officer Trevor Collins continues to watch in absolute amazement. But he is in the wrong lane at the wrong time. And when the logging truck bounds from over the top of Tags hill the driver sees the cruiser in his lane far too late. The truck strikes it at full force sending the smaller vehicle flying into the night sky, killing both occupants almost instantly. And when the truck manages to finally stop he bolts from out of the drivers side door, his feet hitting the pavement on a dead run.
“Oh My Lord.”
He runs to the mangled cruiser but there are no signs of life.
He calls 911 from his cell phone and sits down on the shoulder of the road. Shaken he puts his head in his palms and run his fingers through his hair. Wondering.. Wondering.. Why? What? Why was he stopped on my side of the road? What was he doing? The light slowly rolls back into the woods taking two more with it. And seeing it the driver of the truck now understands. You never stop at night to watch the lights, and you can never catch a ghost. Especially here. On Crows Crossing Road.

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2008.~

On The Road.



Out of one mess, and into another. they’d carved their way along the one hundred and twenty five mile length of crows Crossing Road. For the last twenty two they had seen nothing but tree’s until they’d happened upon the roadside diner out in the middle of nowhere belonging to Madge Erwin. They pulled the blue Cadillac up to the gas pumps and Dwayne Harvey peered over the steering wheel into the window of the diner. He shot an aggravated glance into the direction of his traveling companion,
Louis Kearns.
“Yeah.. They’re open Louis, lets go get a bite.”
Louis Kearns did not seem convinced. He knew Dwayne all too well and knew good and well that he was not a decent guy.
“D..D..Dwayne?”
He stopped halfway to the door to look back at a stammering Louis Kearns.
“Yeah What?”
“A.A.All we’re gonna do here is eat.. Right? I mean we ain’t Gonna hurt nobody.. Right?”
“Louis.. Get your dumb ass in the diner and just wait for me.. I gotta take a piss.”
As he walked into the diner he was met by Madge Erwin who greeted the young man warmly.
“Hey Young man.. Would you like to sit at the counter or will you be needing a booth?”
“A Booth.” he replied not even looking at her.
Moments later the form of Dwayne Harvey appeared and ordered breakfast for the both of them. Madge eyed the more boisterous Dwayne Harvey with caution as she brought them their breakfast, which they practically inhaled. When finished Harvey approached the Counter smiling that evil little smile. The cook emerged and stood beside of Madge.

Karma Smiles.



“Give us some more Coffee.” Dwayne Harvey ordered her, “And While you’re at it give us everything you got in that register.”
He produced a gun getting an immediate response from the cook, whom he promptly shot down in cold blood. Louis Kearns jumped to his feet.
“D.Dwayne! You said nobody was gonna get hurt this time!”
“Shut up Louis you dumb fuck! I never said that.. Now go start the car and leave this bitch to me!” He turned to Madge.
“THE MONEY! NOW!!”
She opened the drawer and emptied it out into a bag.
“Thirty Five Bucks??.. that’s it? Where’s the rest??”
A stern Madge Erwin was becoming agitated.
“Mister. Its been slow. that’s all I have.. Take it while you can.”
He gave her a dead pan look.
What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re on Crows Crossing Road Mister.. Karma is strong here. Fast too.. No matter what you do.. You won’t live to see the end of Crows Crossing.”
He raised the gun and quickly pulled the trigger. And ran out to the caddy.


Righting A Wrong.



A silent but noticeably shaken Louis Kearns Stared out the window at the cloudy Crows Crossing skyline. Dwayne Harvey seemed elated but was disappointed at the take. Louis Kearns turned to face him.
“Thirty Dollars Dwayne?? You shot and killed Two people for Thirty dollars?”
“Look dickhead, we are almost out of money.. And besides it was Thirty Five” he said half laughing.
The rain slowly began to beat down on the windshield of the Cadillac. It was then that Dwayne Harvey saw the woman slowly walking beside of the road. He slowed down slightly and when she turned towards him when he saw the face of Madge Erwin staring back at him it was like someone had punched him square in the gut. He stomped on the gas looking in the rear view mirror in utter disbelief. Louis Kearns almost fought back a smile as he looked back over his shoulder at Madge Erwin.
“Dwayne! That’s Great You Didn’t Kill her!!”
He stared into the rear view mirror.
“Yeah Louis.. I DID kill her.”
He turned his attention back to the road in front of him just as the first wave of Crows came swooping down at the windshield of the caddy. Startled he pulled hard on the steering wheel and forced the caddy onto its side and into an all out roll. Inside Louis Kearns was thrown about like a rag doll until the caddy came to rest on its top. Dazed he could feel the cold wet hands grab his wrists, pulling him free from the wreckage. He watched as the figure of Madge Erwin disappeared before his very eyes. A lone crow landed on top of a road sign. He looked at the Caddy and the dead form of Dwayne Harvey and then back at the road sign partially concealed by a tree limb.
curves ahead. Reduced Speed 35 MPH.

~Scratch~ ABT Copyright © 2007.

Walking blues..



He almost trips over his own two feet trying to catch up to the car when its pulls over to the shoulder of Crow Crossing Road.
He’s been walking for hours it seems and it’s the first and only one that he’s seen, as he approaches it he notices that the car seems a bit dated and out of place but is more than happy to accept the ride as it is getting on towards dawn. When he sees the young man with the slicked back hair and the brilliant smile it puts him at ease as he slides into the passenger seat.
“Where you headed to man?” the young man asks.
“Traverse City.” he tells him.
“Well mister I’m only going as far as Chet Hardaway’s place about ten miles down the road but you’re welcome to ride along.”
He happily agrees and the silver sports car spins a little gravel as it hit’s the blacktop. The two men share casual conversation and the young man introduces himself .
“My name is James, what do they call you Mister?”
“Willie.. Willie Brubaker.”
“Nice to meet you Willie, hey you hungry? We could stop and get a bite at Chet’s if you like.”
Willie confesses that it has been awhile since he has eaten but doesn’t have any money for food.
“Hey are you sure they’re gonna be open? Its gonna be daylight soon.”
The young man he knows only as James smiles.
“No problem Willie, Chet’s always open.”

Always open.



The two men sit in a booth and exchange small talk while they wait for Willies breakfast, who is looking out the window at the little silver sports car.
“So James.. What kind of car is that anyways?”
James Smiles.
“That there is a 1955 Porsche Spyder, everybody says it’s trouble but I love the damned thing, I have been driving it forever it seems like, but hey that’s how it is when you love a car man.”
“You don’t see cars like that around much these days, now everything is plastic, I used to have a 62 Chevy Impala, man what a car.” Willie shakes his head sadly at the memory.
James lights a cigarette slowly inhales the smoke, his young eyes seem a little sadder now, as they search through the stained window pane out at the early morning air.
“They don’t make anything like they used to anymore Willie.” he tells him, “There isn’t any soul in anything any more, not in cars, not in music, not in movies, not in anything, pride, heart and soul has been replaced by quantity and profit, no pride in craftsmanship any more.”
The conversation falls silent as Willie eats his breakfast, and James tells him that he can get him as far as turn thirty five another six miles down the road. They gas up the Porsche and Chet Waves at them as it pulls back out onto the road of Crow’s, and
James slowly pushes down on the throttle, and as the sky slowly begins to turn a lighter shade of blue the silver Porsche Spyder eases over to the shoulder at turn thirty five to let Willie out for the last time.
“This is it Willie, this is as far as I ever go, you be good to yourself brother. And be careful, the world has gotten to be a cold place.”
The two shake hands, and Willie watches as the Porsche slowly turns around and disappears into the early morning sunrise. He shrugs his shoulders as he looks up at a lone crow perched on the road sign.
“Yeah.. I’ll just bet you’ve seen it all haven’t you big guy?’
And as the sun rises at his back Willie turns up his collar at the early morning chill, and Willie Brubaker Knows as the Crow knows.. That anything is possible here on Crows Crossing Road.

Scratch. A.B.T. © copyright 2007.