sHe stormed back and forth, as his eight silent companions looked on with growing curiosity, they had never seen him behave this way, both confused and saddened with a slight sense of panic thrown in for good measure, a large red bag lay empty along side of the now deserted Crows Crossing Road, gift wrapped packages were strewn throughout the grassy field as though picked up by a tornado and gently placed in position through some miracle of nature. The large robust man in the red suit had all but given up on his search when he’d resorted to using his cell phone to call his workshop back home.



He continued to pace as he waited for the call to be put through, and when a small meek and squeaky voice on the other end finally answered.
“We have a problem.”
The small voice answers back.
“Problem? What Problem S?”
“The gift, the special Gift. The doll that we made its gone! I have been looking for it for the last hour and its not here! Oh that Poor little Girl! She will be so heartbroken. Look and see if it fell from the sleigh on the loading Platform Jacob I’ll hold.”
The doll in question had been intended for a young leukemia patient name Mary Margaret Bailey at Felding Children’s hospital in Cantorville, she’d wanted the doll to keep her company for over eight months now, but no one not even S himself could find one, so he decided to have the very best workers at his shop make it for her special, but now it was lost. Here was Christmas Eve and Not even he could seemingly deliver on his promise. And as he sat dejected in his sleigh For the first time in thirty five years on this part of Crows Crossing, it began to softly snow.



He sat there for it seemed the longest time, for the first time maybe in his long life unsure of what to do, until he heard the faint ruffling of feathers coming from the front of the sleigh. And as he turned to look at the Crow that sat perched by his reins, a strange sense of amazement slowly came over him. He slowly extended a gloved hand towards the Crow as its feathers seemed to raise against the snow.
“Well.” he chuckled. “Hello there little fellow! Are we lost?”
The Crow cocked its head and looked at him, and then to the seat at his side, and when he looked down there in the very seat that had been empty not more than five minutes ago, There sat the missing doll.
“Well I’ll be!! You Know what little fellow?” he smiled looking at the Crow.
“This just might be a Merry Christmas after all!”
The snow stopped and the skies cleared for a time. And he quickly picked up his gifts and returned them to the sack and mounted up and continued on his way, and the crow sat silently watching as the most familiar Christmas image of them all slowly passed in front of the full moon and disappeared.. Just a little Christmas spirit, here on Crows Crossing Road.

Scratch. © 2006

He always knew where he could escape to whenever his stepfather would
become impatient with him or just get drunk and start to smack him around.
Whenever his mother wasn’t around it seemed as though thirteen year old Ben would end up taking the brunt of his abuse. So on those days he would come to find his peace and sanctuary here at Crows Crossing Road. He would come to sit with them, and often speak to them of his personal life, and it would always get him through until the next time, they were the only friends that he knew.
“You guys always know don’t you?”
Seven would circle. Two would land near him .
“Man if I ever have kids I ain’t never gonna hit them for no reason, I’m gonna listen as well as talk, you know guys? I screw up a lot but it isn’t always my fault, he doesn’t have to hit Mom or me.”
He sat by the edge of the trees and watched the sun light radiate off of the green grass in the field in front of him, two take flight, seven circle until one lands right next to him this time, it is close enough to touch, the Crow leans forward and cocks its head to the right and studies Benjamin Connelly. Suddenly as he looks into the eyes of this amazing bird he knows what it feels like to fly, he knows what it feels like to be free, free from pain, free from love free from his life of misery. As they exchange looks he slowly reaches out and the Crow allows the boy to touch it before taking flight. He watched for a time before leaving for home, somehow coming here always makes him feel better, for it isn’t always about the ghosts from the past and death, sometimes its about life. Here on Crows Crossing Road.

Morgan Tally, Jason Tanner and Burt Combs have been friends since
early childhood, the last day that they have spent here in the deep woodlands of Jasper county has severely tested their friendship. they hiked up here from Crows Crossing Road, and have come too far, They have been on one hiking expedition together besides this one, and once they have traveled more than five miles from the road they begin to realize that their G.P.S. is no longer working. now close to night fall they stop to make camp, and decide to go on in the morning. One hour later the rain begins to fall, not heavily, not at first, then all hell seems to pour from the sky, it rains through most of the night drenching everything, and when they first light of morning appears the three friends awaken to find that nothing looks familiar to them and they are lost. Morgan decides that they should try to return to the road while the other two want to keep going, finding himself over ruled and out numbered he stands down and follows his two friends deeper into the woods. It is 11:45 am when they come to a steep ravine, where at the bottom, the Saddlehorn river is waiting, the night long heavy rain showers have once again forced it from its constraints and it is rising quickly. Burt Combs foolishly decides that he should try to make his way to the edge of the water to see if there is any possible way to cross the raging river. There is a fine line beneath foolishness and bravery and Burt Combs blindly crosses it. Against the advice of his companions he slowly climbs down the side of the ravine and halfway down loses his footing and he falls into the water, desperately he tries to grab a hold of anything to pull himself free from the grip of the angry Saddlehorn, for an instant time stops, no sound, no nothing, he can see his two friends running back and forth along the length of the ravine, they are screaming out his name, and he can almost hear them.. Just before the water washes him away.



It is 7:00 pm, one hour past nightfall, Morgan Tally and Jason Tanner are wet, tired and hungry. They stopped to try to make camp over an hour ago and are clearly not thinking strait, they have lost their friend, and spent most of the afternoon trying to find him, but the failing light stopped the rescue efforts, their friend Burt is more than likely dead. The rain has stopped but everything around them is soaking wet, and with nothing to help them navigate their way back to the road through the dark woods, all hope is fading, that is when Morgan sees the first one through the trees. A crow sitting on a branch watching him and Jason, against the backdrop of the full moon Morgan soon sees others. As they begin to circle above he begins to wonder, the crow on the branch leaves twice but returns each time to the very same spot on the branch and again looks patiently at the two lost friends. Morgan urges Jason to his feet, “What’s up Morg?” Morgan studies the birds flying across the moon. “C’mon Jay, its time to go.” they follow the birds on through the night and each time they would stop to rest, what seemed to be the same crow would return to watch them. Until in the distance Morgan soon hears the faint sounds of a diesel truck making its way down the road, and he knows that they are close now to Crows Crossing. They push on for another twenty minutes when Morgan hears the faint cries of help coming from the trees, he and Jason quickly move to the sound and there just twenty feet in front of them sits Burt Combs. He tells them that all he remembers is something or someone pulling him free from the river, and never seeing who nor what. He wandered around for most of the time seemingly lost until he ended up here, without further questioning the relieved friends all push on to Crows Crossing Road together, when they reach it, a Highway patrolman spots them and pulls over, “Are you Boys Lost?” he asks them, they tell him their story, and he tells him his. “I can always tell when something ain’t Right on C.C.R., those damn birds just won’t let me be until I come and have a look.” Morgan asks him Puzzled. “So how do you know where to look?” the patrolman smiles and nods at the Moon, “Easy son.. I just Follow the Crows.”

Scratch.. © 2006.

Friday, October 27th, 2006.
For as far back as she could remember in her young life, sixteen year old Alison Davies loved birds, especially the Crows. She lived her whole life here in Cantorville just one and a half miles from Crows Crossing Road. She lived to watch them, lived to be near them, she lived to sit and idly draw pictures of them at every given opportunity, she even dreamed of them, and would often be found sitting near the woods on Crows Crossing Road, talking to and watching them. Unfortunately for Alison, her love for the Crows earned her the label of outcast amongst her high school peers. She was a very beautiful young girl, and a lot of the boys could be found sneaking glances at her, but most found her obsession with the birds to weird for their taste’s. Cantorville was also not far from a place born of dark legend, where young people would steal away to in the woods to try to catch glances of the supposed evil spirit that lived in the old mill. It was on this Friday that a classmate of Alison’s would approach her with an invitation to a Halloween party where some of the popular kids were going to be at. It was set to be held in the deep woods up at the old Mill, Alison against her better judgment agrees to go along. Unaware that some of the kids just wanted to play a joke on her. She knew about the disturbing legends of the Mill and all of the supposed murders that happened there, all of the kids at the High School did, but it was the season of All Hallows Eve, and the thought of seeing a ghost roaming the woods was too much for them to resist.

Touch The Sky.



Tuesday, October 31st, 2006. All Hallows Eve.
She met them there, three miles outside of town near the winding pathway that would take them another two and one half miles into the deep wooded hillside to where the supposed haunted mill was hidden from the roads view. There were three boys and two other girls going besides herself, out of the sixteen people that said they were going, the rest had chickened out. Seventeen year old Brad Downy would lead them, he was the only senior of the group, the rest were Alison’s age, except Tim Branson, a young African American boy who was one year younger. Samantha Swathert and Jennifer Rogan, were the two girls the third boys name was Mark Todd. Samantha Swathert Walked along the trail along side of Alison, but rarely spoke through most of the hike, the boys carried the backpacks with the beer and the party supplies. they made it to the Mill just one hour before dark and the boys found a place for them to set up a campsite, the boys more so than the girls obviously were there because they thought that they might get lucky, the girls however couldn’t take their thoughts far from the Mill’s legends and when the fog rolled in it did little to improve the atmosphere of the surroundings, and it didn’t take the whole group including the boys long to figure out that maybe they shouldn’t have come. They took a quick inventory and found that they also had two flashlights, but no weapons. The darker it got the more serious the mood got, every noise that they heard seemed to be more ominous than the last, and before long all six of them were sitting in a small circle back to back praying for the light to return, even Alison was a little frightened until the feeling that something was there with her took away her fears.

“They’re here.” she told her companions. “ nothing will happen to us as long as we stay right where we are until morning, they will protect us from whatever is out there if anything.” all five of them without looking to one another turned to face Alison. “Who’s here Alison?” she smiled. “The Crows.” they all backed away from her, Mark gave her an odd look up and down, “You know Alison, you’re an odd duck.. No really.. The only reason we invited you is because we wanted to see who could do you first!” she looked at the ground. They all backed away from her, “Really Alison.. What is it with you and those stupid birds. Girl, you‘re just strait up freaky.” the unpleasant mood was interrupted by the sounds of what appeared to be footfalls echoing from the woods, they arguing stopped at once, and to each the thought of ghosts came to them. Brad was the first to get brave and he took one of the flashlight’s to go investigate the sounds with Mark Todd in tow. Jennifer was the first to speak up, “When they come back we should take the flashlights and head back to the road, we could be there in about three hours.” hearing this Samantha snapped at her. “Jen? Are you nuts we could get lost in this fog.” they looked over at Alison. “They aren’t coming back.” she told them. They all disregarded her every word, that is until they heard Brads voice screaming out in the distance, it echoed through the woods like fire through dry wood. Marks voice could be heard as well shouting out Brads name from the darkness, “where are you? Brad ?? Let me-” with one final scream from Marks own voice the woods once again fell silent. the other two girls along with Tim decided from mostly fear that they would take the remaining flashlight and try to Hike back to the road.. And all three called Alison a fool when she wouldn’t go with them. “No.” she told them. “I want to live” she looked at the three of them. Whatever killed Brad and Mark is going to kill you too.” she sat back down and watched as they one by one disappeared into the foggy woods in search of the path back to the road. Though she didn’t hear anymore screams that night Alison knew that she would never see any of them again.



She slept through the whole night peacefully, and in her sleep she dreamt of flying with The Crows. Touching the sky and being free from her earthly bindings. And when the first new rays of the sun made their way to her there at the old Mill she awaken to the sight of seven Crows all perched around her looking down on her as if smiling. She rose and as she followed the Path back to Crows Crossing Road, she thought of the fate of her classmates, and decided to tell the police what had happened at the mill when she got back to Cantorville. When reaching the road she looked back at the woods and then up at one of the crows perched on a road sign no more than six feet from her. “You know what Pretty boy? Some people just don’t know when to listen.” the crows watched her as she turned and headed down Crows Crossing towards Cantorville. She wasn’t going to make it to school today.

Scratch.© 2006.

It would usually come out only on the darkest of nights when the pale moonlight was barely visible from behind the whispers of clouds that would move across the skies above Crows Crossing Road. Aaron Conner has brought his young son here to the woodlands of Jasper County to teach him the ways of the hunter. It is deer season in Jasper, and although it is quite dark out and the father and son are not actually hunting at this time, they are both awake inside of their campsite to see the vision, that clearly has kept them awake through most of the night. There in the trees just barely within sight stands a white horse standing silent watching over them both, normally horses are not all that frightening to Aaron, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out that this animal is no longer of this world.

The Thunder Of Dreams.



It is in the late summer of nineteen hundred and ten Zackary Mostel tends to his small garden out past the trees here in on his twenty acres of property in the woodlands of Jasper County. His land though wooded heavily, is also surrounded by acres of green pastures, out beyond the woods. Something on this morning has Zackary in a fit, he has come to cultivate some vegetables and has found his garden in ruin, trod under by the hooves of a pack of wild horse’s that frequent his property. It is the fifth time that such a thing has occurred and Zackary has decided that it will be the last. He returns to the house to retrieve his rifle to find his young wife Marilyn on the back of the property feeding the horses apples from the tree in back of the house. Enraged he chases the animals away and scolds her severely for enticing them. The garden is in ruin because of them and she is forbidden to feed them ever again, he vows that he will shoot every last horse that he sees, and he leaves the house with rifle in hand. Marilyn pleads with him that they have plenty of vegetables and all is not in complete ruin but Zackary is far too angry to listen, and he storms off through the woods in search of the wild horses, completely unaware that his wife has followed him to thwart his plans he sees the horse that seems to lead them in the clearing with others from the pack and is mindful to stay down wind of the animal, it is a large male that is as black as night. He smiles to himself as he thinks, “I have you now you rotten bastard!” he trains the weapon on his intended target and as he pulls the trigger Marilyn has appeared directly in his line of fire and takes the shot intended for the horse right in the chest, she dies instantly. And Zackary becomes mortified, as he holds his dead wife, the weapon lay quiet by his side, his anger has betrayed him and he has done the unthinkable.

He buries her beneath the apple tree in back of the house, and vows to her that he will never pick up that rifle again. Weeks pass and the house and the surrounding yard are left unattended, as Zackary has become haunted by his deed, the sounds and images of thundering hooves invade his every attempt at sleep. And one night even after he actually manages to rest for an entire night he is awakened early the next morning by an odd feeling that he cannot place. And when he stands on the back porch of the house he sees it for the very first time, there beneath the apple tree, a lone white horse standing almost defiantly watching him. He begins to see it every where after that, and it too invades his sleep, life becomes unbearable and the thunder that haunts the halls of his dreams finally take their toll on Zackary’s sanity, and he ends up taking his own life with the very weapon that took his wife’s. his body is found by a concerned neighbor that had come to bring Zackary food some three weeks after his suicide, and his body is in an advance state of decay. Zackary is buried not far from his wife, and the house is never occupied by another living soul. To this day passer bys have all seen the ghost horse, and too the odd apparition of a man kneeling beneath an apple tree appearing to be silently weeping over the grave of his deceased wife. Though unattended, the garden still grows, and the haunting sounds of thundering hooves still can be heard on quiet nights as the horses run free through the property of Zackary and Marilyn Mostel.



Although the apparition does not seem to be malicious, it does fill Aaron Conner and his young son’s hearts with a terrible feeling of sadness and dread. It is morning now and although they have not bagged themselves a deer, Aaron decides that his son’s hunting education will just have to wait, they pack up their camp site and begin their trek back to Aaron’s truck so they can go home, when they arrive the boy notices that the horse seems to have followed them. They pack the truck and soon exit the woods where the spirits roam free, and the Crows look on in silence. Here on Crows Crossing Road.

Scratch. © 2006