The Other Side

A Transgendered Halloween Story
By Bek D Corbin

 

Every small town has its local traditions, and one of them in every small town is that they tend to be a trifle leary of newcomers. But Linda Weston knew that she had lucked out big time. Her first week in Denton, Pennsylvania, and she'd managed to make good friends with Christie MacBride, who sat next to her in their 8th Grade Math class. Christie had visited New York City and Los Angeles, and so was - by Denton standards - a worldly woman, and thus immune to small town prejudices. Christie was also the daughter of Thomas MacBride, who sat on the board of the local bank, owned the local mall, and had other significant holdings.

But Christie got around Denton on her bike, just like other kids, and she was only too happy to show the 'Girl from Philadelphia' around. Christie was pretty with long dark brown hair with bangs and a wide face that dimpled when she smiled, which she did often. Linda was fair, with short dirty blonde hair, which her mother wouldn't let her cut into bangs, even though they'd emphasize her big blue eyes. They were just close enough in looks that neither could be accused of being 'the homely one'. All things considered, Linda knew that she was having some pretty good luck. Now, if only luck extended to her 12-year-old pain in the neck brother, Barry.

It was a late Saturday afternoon, and there was no school tomorrow. Linda could have been hanging out with the other 14-year-olds (or at least trying to), but NO, she had to be out looking for her pain in the butt brother, Barry. She pumped her bike around the corner looking for the little turd, but no sign of him. Then she saw Christie standing outside a store with two of her friends. "Hey, Christie!"

Christie watched as the New Girl biked up. "Hey, Linda! Whazzup?"

"My Mom sent me out to find my little brother before the weather gets any worse." Linda looked up at the darkening clouds, which were making the late afternoon turn dark early.

Sandy, one of the other girls said, "I think I saw him and a bunch other kids walking out toward Kitchener Road."

"Kitchener Road? You don't think they're gonna take him out to the Drowning Hole, do you?"

"Well, Linda and Barry have been here for about three weeks, I'd say that it was about time they did."

"'Scuze me? Drowning Hole?"

"Oh, it's some little boy dare thing that the local kids make each other do, to show that they're not chicken."

Linda looked up at the lowering sky. "Is it dangerous?"

"Well, kinda. Kids have died, or at least that's what they say." Christie looked up at the darkening clouds. "Lousy day for them to try, especially out by the Drowning Hole."

Linda gave a long-suffering sigh. "And Barry's never backed down from a dare in his life."

"Then we better get over there and stop 'em. Donny Tibbert must be pushing this on a day like this, and he won't stop until Barry's crossed the gorge or Donny has an excuse to call him a chicken."

Linda and Christie got on their bikes and started pedalling west out of town and toward the hills. "Why would Donny Tibbert be pushing for Barry to be doing this stupid dare on a day like today?"

"'Cause it's on days with bad weather like this that they say Doug McCrary goes looking for kids to drown."

"Doug McCrary? Who's Doug McCrary?"

"Local Spook. The story goes that thirty or forty years ago, this guy named Doug McCrary came to live here from somewhere else. Some say that he was running from the Law. He built this rickety old shack out in the hills near the old swimming hole and wouldn't have anything to do with anybody. One day, when the weather was bad like this, a bunch of kids went out to the swimming hole. They saw McCrary fighting with another man and threw him off a ledge into the swimming hole. The man barely survived, but McCrary went down to the swimming hole, went into the water, and finished drowning him. Nobody really knows why. Anyway, the kids told their parents, and the parents called the police, and they dragged McCrary off to jail. But instead of sending him to jail, they sent him to the state mental hospital. They say that he went really nuts there, 'cause ten years later, he came back, and he started hunting for the kids that told on him. But since he was nuts, he didn't realize that ten years had passed, and the kids that finked on him were grown ups. So, he snuck around in this ratty old hooded rain slicker, and he'd grab any kid that he thought looked like the ones that told on him, and dragged 'em out to the swimming hole and drowned 'em there. One day, he grabbed a girl and got spotted. The locals chased him all the way back to the swimming hole, and they tried to hang him from the beam that crosses the gorge over the hole. But the Drowning Hole wanted him, and the knot slipped and he fell into the hole and drowned himself. Now they say that the Drowning Hole wants more kids, and on days like this, it lets Doug McCrary out of hell to go get more kids to feed to the Drowning Hole."

"And what's this got to do with this dare?"

"Well, the story goes that every time that a kid walks the beam across the gorge, McCrary reaches up out of the Drowning Hole to try an' grab 'em and pull 'em down into the Hole."

"And exactly how Wide is this beam? And exactly what is it doing there?"

"Well, it's about maybe a foot an' a half, or two foot wide. They say that it's all that's left of some piece of mining equipment from a mine that used to operate in the hills."

"So, it's at least a hundred years old, half rotten and probably as slippery as hell. And Barry is just stupid enough to take that dare. We gotta get there and stop this!" With that, Linda got up on the pedals and pumped her bike for all it was worth.

                                                            *****

Linda and Christie pumped up the winding Kitchener Road to the unpaved access road and ignored the sign saying that Miner's Hole was Private Property and unsafe, just like everybody else did. After a few hundred yards, the access road became a path in the thick woods. Christie guided Linda up the path where it went to the edge of a steep gorge surrounded by more thick woods. Looking down into the gorge, Linda could see a beautiful, wide pool of water at the bottom. From the other side of the gorge, she could hear the shrill sounds of jeering children's voices. Following the sound of the voices, Linda spotted a group of maybe five or six boys and two girls on a ledge where a narrow wooden beam crossed some thirty feet above the gorge.

Sure enough, there was Barry in his red T-shirt with the 'Flash' thunderbolt logo on the front. He was about two-fifths of the way across, carefully edging his way across the narrow wooden span.

"Barry!" Linda shouted, "Barry, you stop this foolishness NOW! Barry, you go back!"

Barry stopped and looked around. He followed the sound of Linda's voice and spotted her. He waved at her and started making his way across the beam at a slightly faster rate. There's nothing like spiting your older sister to put spice into doing something stupid.

Then a piece of rotten wood gave way under his foot.

Barry's foot slipped, and he teetered for a moment before tumbling off the beam and down into the water far below.

"BARRY!" Linda screamed.

"C'mon, I know a quick way down!" Christie urged her friend.

Together the two girls scrambled down the slope to the water. But as they were moving, Linda saw a man rush out from between the rocks at the water's edge and run into the water. He swam over to about where Barry had hit and went under. Then he resurfaced and stroked over toward where Linda and Christie were finally reaching the bottom of the slope. When he got to the water's edge, he pulled Barry's unmoving form out of the water, and started forcing water out of his lungs.

Linda screamed Barry's name again and rushed over. The man looked up. He looked to be in his college years, in his early to mid- twenties, with longish curling dark hair over a long, regular face. He was wearing a waterproof jacket, jeans, and cross-trainers. "I got most of the water out of his lungs, but he isnt breathing. Do either of you know Artificial Respriation? I'm done in from pulling him out - I'd probably faint and he'd still die."

"I know Mouth-to-Mouth," Linda burbled, half-hysterically. She clambered over her brother's body and started puffing into his mouth. For the longest minutes in her life, she forced air into his lungs. Then finally Barry gave a racking cough and spat out the last of the water in his lungs.

Barely managing to keep from breaking down, Linda turned to the man who had saved Barry's life. "Thank you! Thank you so-"

There was no one there. The man was gone. There was only the trail of water leading up out of the hole so show that anyone had been there at all.

"Where did he go?" Linda asked Christie.

"I dunno! I was busy watching you! He just-" Christie waved an arm helplessly.

 

                                                            *****

Linda's Mom was first furious for Linda letting Barry take such a foolish risk, and then smotheringly proud of her when Christie explained that Linda had only been there to stop him, and that she'd saved Barry's life with Mouth-to-Mouth.

At the Middle School, the accepted wisdom was that the man had been Doug McCrary, and that he hadn't dragged Barry OUT of the water, that he was trying to drag Barry back IN, after he'd crawled out on his own. Those who knew best about such things decided that Linda and Christie had scared him off when they came down the slope.

"But that's not how it happened!" Linda told Christie.

"I know, I was there! But how do you explain that guy just upping and disappearing like that?"

"But if he's a ghost, WHY would he go into the water and pull my brother out like that? Christie, I saw him go into the water and pull Barry out. If he's some kind of murdering ghoul, why would he save my brother's life?"

"Well, he did refuse to give Barry Mouth-to-Mouth."

"If he's a ghost, maybe he CANT do Artificial Respiration!"

"He was solid enough to pull a kid out of the water, but he can't push a little air into the kid's lungs?"

"Then why did he tell me to do Mouth-to-Mouth? I was totally freaked! I woulda waited for him to tell me what to do; if he wanted to kill Barry, all that he hadda do was just leave Barry in the water and let him drown."

Christie sighed, "You're right. He was probably just some college guy who didn't want to get all wrapped up in somebody else's crisis. Besides, he wasn't dressed right."

"Dressed right? What do you mean?"

"Well, he was just wearing a waterproof jacket, jeans and some cross-trainers, right? They didn't wear stuff like that back in the Sixties and Seventies. They wore, y'know, bell-bottoms and sandals or moccasins and stuff like that. Besides, Doug McCrary is supposed to wear a bright yellow slicker with a hood and waders, and have the rope that he was hung with still tied around his neck. And this guy was WAY too young. Doug McCrary is supposed to look like he's, y'know, forty or fifty or so years old, like that."

"Then who was he?"

"I dunno. I think I've seen him around town, but I can't place him for the life of me."

"Well, after school I gotta go visit Barry in the hospital. Mom says that they're gonna keep him another night, just to be sure. So, I gotta go do the 'Supportive Big Sister' routine. Wanna come?"

"Hey, as long as they don't make me empty bedpans. I get enough shit from my step-mother."

 

                                                            *****

When they stepped into the room, Linda immediately noticed a definite chill. "Why is it so cold in here?"

Then they stepped past the room divider to get to Barry's bed. Barry was sleeping, and standing silently next to the bed was the mysterious young man who had pulled him out of the water.

Linda gasped, "You! What are you doing here?"

"Oh. Hello. Oh, I just wanted to see how he was doing. He swallowed a lot of water. What do the doctors say?"

"Oh, they say that he did get a lot of water in his lungs, but you got most of it out in time."

"Oh, Thank God."

"Odd that they'd keep it so cold in here - they said that he was seriously Hyperthermized or something."

"You mean that he was suffering from Hypothermia. That's when you lose too much body heat."

"Yeah, that's it."

"Sorry about that - it couldn't be helped."

"Well, that's all right, but who ARE you? Where did you go?"

"Ah, uhm, well, that's a little complicated. Y'see-"

Then Mr. And Mrs. Weston came in the room. "Linda! You're here! Why is it so cold in here?"

"Mom! Dad! Good timing! This is-" When Linda turned to introduce the man who'd saved Barry, there was no one there.

All there was, were a pair of wet footprints on the linoleum.

 

                                                            *****

Four days later, after Barry had a chance to rest up from his ordeal, Linda took him and Christie back up to Drowning Hole.

Barry looked around nervously. "Ah, Sis- exactly WHY are we coming back here?  I mean, this is Not exactly my favorite place in the world! I mean, what if Doug McCrary wants to take another whack at me?"

"There's something going on here, and I'm not sure what it is. But I am sure that this place is major in it."

"Well, Duh!" Christie scoffed. "Everybody knows that this place is major league bad luck! I hear that a long time ago, kids used to come up here to swim. Then Doug McCrary started killing people here. Now the only people who come up here are dumb kids who want to tempt fate by walking across that beam." Christie ended with a withering glare at Barry.

"So, and now, after I just barely got away from him by the skin of my teeth, we're gonna go back into his living room?"

"That's not the way it happened, Barry. There's something going on, something that's like people say it is."

Linda, Barry and Christie left their bikes were the access road left off and climbed down to the edge of the water. Linda led the party around the edge of the water to the cluster of big rocks where she'd first seen the man. "He was here. He came running out from here."

They looked around a bit. "This doesn't make any sense; there's no place for him to have been hiding."

"But he definitely came out from right here."

Linda took a deep breath and steeled herself. The she said in a loud, clear voice, "Doug! Doug McCrary! I know that you're here! I want to talk to you!" Her voice echoed through the gorge, and suddenly Linda was very aware of what people would say if anyone heard her out here calling out for the local boogieman.

She waited for the echo to die out, and was beginning to wonder whether to shout out again or just let the issue lie. Then there was a sudden chill, one that the cold water couldn't account for.

"So, you figured it out." His voice came from just behind them, in the shadows of where the overhangs blocked the sun. He was dressed exactly as he had before, and he looked like any other normal guy.

Linda startled, and Christie and Barry almost jumped out of their skins. But the man just stood there, a look of weary patience on his face. Linda managed to get her voice back. "Y-you're Doug McCrary? Mad Dog McCrary?"

The man sighed and said, "Yes and No."

"What do you mean? Either you are or you aren't."

The man sighed again. "I AM Douglas McCrary, and I AM a ghost, but I am NOT 'Mad Dog McCrary'. Well, at least not by choice."

"You pulled my brother here out of the water."

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Why? Because if I didn't, he would have drowned. And too much of that has happened here."

"But why- No..." Linda shook her head and started over again. "Mister McCrary, I want to thank you for saving my brother's life."

The look on McCrary's face changed from one of weary resignation to hesitant hope. "You're very welcome, young lady. I've saved the lives of several children at this Hole, but you are the first person to thank me for it."

"But why? No... I mean—Mister McCrary, exactly what is going on here? What are you doing here? Why does everyone say that you're this big boogieman?"

McCrary took another deep sigh and settled himself on a big rock. "Well, to get it all straight, I'm going to have to tell you everything from the beginning. It's a rather long story, and you'll have to sit through the cold to hear it all."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a ghost. We ghosts have a tendency to sort of soak up all the heat around us. I can't help it."

The kids settled themselves in, still a little wary of the walking dead man near them.

"Well, this all goes back to 1975-"

"Nineteen Seventy-Five? But I thought you were here for longer than that!"

"Would you please let me tell my story? I've been waiting years to tell it to someone who will listen! At least, to someone with a pulse."

"Sorry."

"Anyway, in 1975, my grandfather retired here after a career working for the NBC TV network in New York. My father moved the rest of the family here, and they went into business together running a TV repair place. I was 13 at the time. So anyway, there I was, thirteen and the new kid in town. I think you know something about what that's like." McCrary threw a sympathetic smile at Linda, who blushed.

"As the New Kid In Town, I got my fair share of ribbing, most of it in fun. But there was this one kid, Denny Paskow, who just wouldn't let it alone. He kept on me, picking on me and generally making my life hell. After nearly a year, he was still on my back. Finally, he made me a dare. He got me out here alone, and bet me my bike that I didn't have the guts to walk across that stupid beam." McCrary pointed at the wooden plank that straddled the gorge.

"I took the dare and walked across the beam. When I yelled across the gorge that I'd won the bet, he yelled that I had to walk back again to win."

"Oh. He was one of those," Barry muttered in sympathy.

"Oh Yeah. Big Time. I walked back, and demanded his bike as my prize. He said that I hadn't really won the bet, and that he was going to tell everyone in school that I'd wimped out. I'd taken as much shit from this scumbag as I was gonna, so I jumped him. I didn't really want his bike, I just wanted him off my back. Anyway, we fought for a while. During the fight, Denny's foot slipped and he went over the edge right there-" McCrary pointed at an overhanging ledge near where the beam was.

"He tumbled down the slope, hit his head, and fell into the Hole. I went scrambling down the slope, just like you did, and I tried to pull him out before he drowned. I didn't make it in time."

"The first kid to die in Drowning Hole", Christie breathed.

"Good God, No! This place isn't safe, hasn't been safe for years! That sign saying that Miner's Hole is Unsafe and Out of Bounds isn't the first they put up, not by a long shot! They keep putting up signs, and kids keep coming up here and ignoring them. They were talking about sealing this place off long before I came along. But they never seem to get around to doing anything about it.

"Anyway, I pulled Denny out, and he wasn't breathing. I tried Mouth-to-Mouth, but nothing took. I ran back up the slope, grabbed the first bike and hauled ass back into town. I got someone to take me seriously, and they got the cops out here.  Then it got nasty."

"Nasty? What do you mean? It sounds like it was an accident, pure and simple!"

"That's what _I_ thought. But it seems that Denny Paskow had a six-year old sister, Missy, and she claimed that she saw it all. She said that I beat her brother senseless 'cause he caught me trying to steal his bike. Then, she said, I shoved him over the edge into the hole and took his bike. Every time she told her story, I got more vicious; by the time the case went before a judge, she was saying that Denny was awake when I got to him in the water, and that I held his head under the water."

"And they believed her?"

"Well, she was a real spellbinder, I'll say that for her. To make a long story short, the State Court found me guilty of Manslaughter, and I spent the next three years in the State Juvenile facility. Dad closed up the repair shop and the family moved back to New York, but Grandpa stayed here.

"Now here is where it gets nasty. In 1987, Grandpa died, and Dad and I came back to Denton to settle his affairs. While Dad was handling the stuff with the courts, I came out here to Miner's Hole a couple of times. I mean, people remembered what had happened, and things had already sort of grown in the re-telling, so I wasn't exactly welcome in town. I thought that maybe, if I came back up here, I'd spot something that would back up my claim, that I could somehow clear my name.

"After about a week of this, I was up here, not seeing anything that would help. As I came down the trail, this small army of locals came swarming up. They had everything except torches and pitchforks. They said that some local girl named Dinah was missing, and a girlfriend of hers named Liza had seen me dragging her off into the woods near Miner's Hole. They dragged me over to Miner's Hole, and there was the body of this seventeen-year-old girl, lying drowned in the Hole. They started to beat me up, and things got out of hand, and somebody had a rope. They strung me up by that beam up there and let me hang." McCrary pulled his shirt down, revealing a dark welt across his neck.

"The only reason that I didn't strangle to death up there is that the asshole who tied the knot did a lousy job. The knot gave way under my weight, and I dropped into the Hole. I was already halfway unconscious when I hit the water, and I had my hands tied behind my back, so I couldn't save myself. I drowned. I guess the mob thought that it was some kind of poetic justice, 'cause nobody lifted a finger to save me."

"Then what happened?"

"What happened? I died, that's what happened."

"No! I know that--I mean, why are you still here? Why are you haunting this place?"

"Damn good question. Well, I didn't immediately rise and start to seek vengence on those who killed me or anything. No, for a while, I just sort of stayed here, not able to pass on. I had a vague sense that I should be going somewhere - Heaven, Hell, Limbo, Purgatory, Akron, Ohio, (which is somewhere between Limbo and Purgatory) - somewhere. But I didn't go anywhere. Then, after a couple of years, I felt something tugging at me. It was Halloween. There was a group of kids, and they'd come here as part of a dare. They were telling bullshit horror stories about me and how I died. Mind you, it hadn't quite sunk in that I was dead, so I went to go tell them to stop telling lies about me. Then they saw me, and they screamed and ran."

"Why did they do that? You're not that bad looking!"

"Well, that's a very good question. You see, when they saw me, they didn't see this. They saw this-" In a wink of an eye, the rather average looking young man in an everyday coat and jeans disappeared. In his place was a towering seven foot tall horror wearing a long yellow hooded rain slicker and black waders. His arms were long and ape-like, and his hands were huge, powerful and they looked to be made for strangling. His face was long and bony, with a long, sinister nose and deep, hollow eyes. His skin was pale with death, he was dripping with water, and around his broken neck was tied the noose that had killed him. Christie skittered back in panic at the sight of a horror that she had heard about all her life- 'Mad Dog McCrary'.

The wraith looked balefully at them, and seemed to be gathering malevolence to use against them. Then, something inside it kept the evil in check, and 'Mad Dog McCrary' faded back into Doug McCrary. "Christ, I hate doing that!"

Linda barely managed to pull herself together. "What. Was. THAT?"

"THAT was 'Mad Dog McCrary'. 'Mad Dog McCrary' is what all those stupid ghost stories have made of me. They've turned me into the fucking boogieman! You see, this is why I can't pass on to the Other Side. Ghosts remain here on Earth because there's a powerful emotional bond. Sometimes parents, lovers, or very good freinds will stay because of the bonds of Love. Vicious enemies might stay, kept by bond of Hate and Spite. Me? At first it was all that anger and rage that the people in Denton felt toward me because they thought that I killed that girl. And then the gossips and rumor-mongers and ghost story tellers got a hold of it. Now they're telling stories that I buried the bodies of over a hundred children up in the mines in the hills! While people don't really think that there's a 'Mad Dog McCrary' haunting this place, on a certain deep level they fear, they want there to be one. That combination of expectation, fear, and perverse desire is what keeps me here. As long as people in the Denton area keep telling 'Mad Dog McCrary' stories, I'm anchored to this stupid swimming hole."

"You--looked like you were going to attack us or something."

"Ah—Yeah. Well, y'see kids, hanging around with ghosts isn't exactly what you'd call safe. Y'see, when you become a ghost, your soul sort of splits in two, forming what Meg called 'the Higher Soul' and the 'Bestial Soul'. The 'Higher Soul' is your rational, responsible, compassionate half, the part of you that wants to be a better person. Your 'Bestial Soul' is the part that completely selfish and only wants to live out its most intense passions. This, what you're seeing right now, is my Higher Soul; 'Mad Dog' is my Bestial Soul. I try very hard to keep 'Mad Dog' under wraps, but he does slip out every so often."

"Have you--hurt anyone, when you were Mad Dog?"

"No - Thank You, God! - Mad Dog has chased a couple of kids that came around the woods, but so far I've managed to slow him down enough to let them get away. Unfortunately, those few times have only prompted more damn ghost stories. I try to make up for it by pulling kids out of the Hole before they drown."

"You've done this before?"

"Sure! Two or three times a Summer, and usually once or twice on or around Halloween. Winter's too cold, and Spring is too wet, so I don't get much 'business' in that half of the year. I've saved exactly fifty-two kids here. A couple, I've saved more than once. You're the only ones that have ever thanked me. The others bought into that story about me trying to drown them."

"You kept count?"

"Being a ghost is all about being stuck in the past. I remember everything about the day that I died, in vivid detail. Every ghost can. At least the ones that have their head together enough that they can think straight."

"There are other ghosts around Denton?"

"A few. Most are 'repeaters', ghosts that just do the same thing over and over. Sort of like Ectoplasmic 'Instant Replay'. There are one or two ghosts in the area that have a full set of wits, but to be honest, they're God's Own boring. Of all the ghosts that I've met in the area, only Meg was worth talking to."

"Meg? Who's Meg?"

"Oh, that's right, they don't tell 'Mad Meg' stories anymore, do they? Well, Meg was the local 'boogieman' around here until I came along. Her name was Magaret Carstaires, she was the widow of a local Alderman back in the early 19th Century. People thought that she was sort of...odd, but that was only because she was a well-read, self-educated woman back when such things were an oddity. Then, when she was in her fifties, she started doing odd, mysterious things like digging for roots in the woods at night, not letting anyone into her cellar, and going off into the hills on mysterious errands. Rumors started that she was a witch and that she was doing all the usual horrific witchy things. Actually, she was a passionate Abolitionist, and she'd turned the cellar of her home into a 'station' on the Underground Railroad. She'd open her home to small groups of runaway slaves on their way up North, and then up to Canada after the passage of the Runaway Slave Acts. She'd hide them down in her cellar if anyone dropped by, and then moved them to a cave up in these hills near here, where another 'Conductor' would lead them to the next 'station'. Besides offering the runaways shelter, Meg would feed them with food from her own larder, well padded with roots and things that she found out in the woods, and she provided them with medicine that she devised from old herb-wives' recipes."

"So that's why they thought that she was a witch!"

"Yeah, that and the fact that Meg was in the habit of passing along messages in Latin or Clasical Greek, so that the uneducated wouldn't understand it. But people started thinking that she was muttering hexes or something. Anyway, she got away with this for a few years, and then the Slave Catchers got wise to her. They caught her on one of her food runs up to the cave, shot her and dragged the poor souls back down South. Naturally, the murdering bastards didn't bother to tell anyone that they'd shot a defenseless old woman in cold blood, so as far as anyone in Denton knew, she'd just upped and disappeared. Soon after that, the 'Mad Meg the Witch' stories started circulating, and poor Meg found herself in pretty much the same fix that I'm in now."

"But how did you two meet? Aren't you sort of--stuck here?"

"Well, Yes an' No. While I have to return to this damn Hole every so often, especially when a child's in danger, I Can travel outside the gorge. As a matter of fact, I know my way around these hills and the Denton area pretty well by now. Anyway, I found old Meg's cave when I was exploring up in the hills, and that's how I met her."

"You just said something about having to come back here when a kid was in danger. Why?"

"I dunno. Meg thought that maybe it was because I feel guilty about Denny Paskow dying. Or maybe that I thought that if I saved enough lives, that I'd somehow do enough good that the Powers That Be would let me into Heaven."

"Why DO you save those kids? After all, they're the ones who tell the most stories that keep you here."

McCrary shrugged. "They're kids. It's the right thing to do."

Barry looked at McCrary warily. "Doug--what's it like? Being--Dead?"

"Man, do I wish I knew."

"But--You're Dead."

"Not quite. I'm a Ghost. Old Meg told me that the word Ghost comes from an Old English word Gast, which meant the the basic vital energy that keeps people alive. And she told me the word Spirit comes from the Greek word that means Breath. So, what you see before you is sort of the 'breath of life', the 'last gasp' so to speak, of Douglas McCrary. As such, I'm not completely dead. I won't be completely dead until I've passed over to the other side."

Linda's eyes opened wide in realization. "So THAT'S why you couldn't give Barry Mouth-to-Mouth! All you Are is breath! If you'd tried, you would have gone completely INTO him!"

"Yeah, and Possessed his body, which is a very wrong thing to do."

But Barry was still curious. "Okay, so you're not really Dead. So, what's it like being a ghost?"

McCrary took a deep breath. "It's like--being cold water."

"Hunh?"

"It's cold. And it's like trying to keep your head above the surface in water that's so cold that it cuts right into you. You're just floating there, trying to find something to hold onto. You try to control where you go and what you do, but every so often you find yourself swept along. You want to stay in one place, but suddenly you're sort of dragged along, and you get taken wherever the pull is the strongest."

"What pulls you?"

"Well, I'm not absolutely sure, but I think it's those damn stories, or at least the emotional energy that they create. I'll be kicking back here, and then I find myself drawn to some place in town where a bunch of kids are telling those stories. At least there's one benefit to it."

"What's that?"

"Somehow, I always know when there's a child in danger here, and I automatically return here. This way, I can go into town, and not have to worry that I might miss somebody coming up here and going over that stupid beam, without me to save them."

"You go into town? What do you do?"

"Well, for the most part, I just hang out. I watch people, I listen in on their conversations, I do a lot of reading over people's shoulders."

"Don't they get weirded out when they see you?"

"So who sees me? Most people only catch me out of the corner of their eye, or in fleeting glances. You said that you'd seen me around town. Not surprising, you've probably seen me off and on all your life, without a name to put to the face. I used to come into town and try to keep up with what was going on in the world. Then I'd go up to Meg's cave, and she'd swap me lessons from her Classic education for news from the outside, over games of checkers."

"Checkers?"

"We'd play with stones."

"If Meg was interested in what's going on, why didn't she just come into town and see for herself?"

"Well, when I found her, old Meg hadn't been out of that cave since the 1930's."

"What? Why?"

"Well, Meg was the one that came up with the idea about those damnfool boogieman stories keeping us here. She thought that if she stayed hidden in her cave and stayed out of sight, then people would stop seeing her and eventually people would forget about her and stop telling those 'Mad Meg' stories."

"They told ghost stories about her?"

"Oh Yeah! I even heard a few of them before I got sent away. Pretty standard 'wicked witch who eats kids' stories, but still damn gruesome. Mind you, Meg was pretty damn scary when her Bestial Soul was showing. When Halloween rolled around, she had to fight tooth and nail to keep her Bestial Soul down. But that got better toward the end."

"The end? You mean that she isn't still up there? What happened to her?"

"Well, like I said, her Bestial Soul got less scary as time went on. Meg thought that maybe now that people had 'Mad Dog McCrary' to scare them, they were forgetting the 'Mad Meg' stories. She thought that her Bestial Soul looked and acted the way that it did because the stories told people that that was how 'Mad Meg' looked and acted, and so their fears and so on molded her Bestial Soul to look and act that way. I think that after a while, people just plain forgot about old Meg so much that their nightmares didn't have the same hold on her that they used to. I went up to her cave a couple of times, and Meg wasn't there. After a while, all trace of her was gone. I think she just passed on."

"Oh! How sad."

"For me maybe, but not for Meg. She's finally gone on. I can't grudge her that. I just wish that I could follow. But that ain't gonna happen while kids keep coming up here and seeing 'Mad Dog McCrary', and people keep telling those stupid stories. Still, it is damn lonely."

"Well, wouldn't they stop seeing you if you just didn't keep fishing kids out of that Hole?"

"Can't do that."

"Why?"

"It would be wrong. Y'don't just let kids die like that. No matter how hard it gets. If I let 'em die, then 'Mad Dog' would win. After a while, I'd become 'Mad Dog McCrary'. And that just ain't happening."

"Bummer." A morbid silence fell over the Hole. Barry perked up. "Well, you don't have to be lonely! We could come up here every so often, just so's you don't get too lonely."

Doug looked strongly at Barry. "NO. I do NOT want you coming up here. It's tempting, damn tempting. And that's the problem. Kids, it ain't safe."

"Why? You can keep that ol' Mad Dog on a leash, can't you?" Barry wasn't about to let loose on something as cool as hanging out with a ghost.

"Kids, you might have noticed that its rather cold around here?"

Linda nodded and said, "Well, that's the Hole, isn't it? There's no waterfall, so it's coming up out of an underground spring, right?"

"Smart girl, it is. But that's not the reason why it's so cold here. It's so cold 'cause _I'm_ here. You can always tell when there's a ghost about by the unnatural chill."

"Well, I Did notice that Barry's hospital room was strangely cold when you came to visit."

"You came to visit me?" Barry asked, touched.

"Of course! I wanted to make sure that you were all right. Though, I have to admit, I was drawn by your warmth."

"My warmth?"

"And that's why you can't come here. Every time you come near, I take a little of the warmth out of your bodies. I can't help it, like an iceberg can't. If you stayed here too long, I might just suck all the warmth out of your body, without meaning to." Doug got up. "And on that note-" He simply wasn't there anymore.

Christie got up. "Well, that's that. Let's go, it's getting late."

Barry sputtered. "But we can't just GO!"

Linda laid a hand on his shoulder. "Barry, I know that it's sad, but what are we going to do? Go around telling people that we talked to a ghost, and the stories they're telling about it are bogus?"

Barry shook his head and let himself be led up the slope by his sister.

 

                                                            ***** 

The next day, Christie managed to catch Linda alone at school. "Linda! I had a great idea of how we can help Doug!"

Linda gave her a sour look. "What are we going to do, start up a 'Ghost's Anti-Defamation Club', and tell everyone that 'Mad Dog McCrary' is really a nice guy who saves kids' lives?"

"No, but we CAN knock a few pins out of those 'Mad Dog McCrary' stories."

"How?"

"Well, people tell those stories 'cause they think that Doug was a murderer, right? But the only deaths that really happened at all were that kid Denny who fell, and the girl who turned up dead in the Hole. We can't do anything about the Denny kid, but what about the girl? If we can prove that Doug didn't kill her, then he's a guy who got lynched for a crime that he didn't commit! If everybody knows that he didn't kill her, then that knocks a lot of the wind out of those stories, and maybe Doug gets to pass over to the Other Side a few years earlier."

"And how are we supposed to prove that a murder that happened years ago, wasn't committed by the guy that everyone says did it?"

"I don't know. But here's what we CAN do- we can start asking questions about Doug McCrary and the killings. We don't accept bullshit 'Mad Dog McCrary' stories, we get the real facts."

"And what do we say, when people ask us WHY we're asking these inconvenient stories?"

"Ah! That's the beuty of it! We ask Mrs. Tolliver if we can do a report on the local legend of 'Mad Dog McCrary'. Not the horror stories, but the real story behind the horror stories. It's October, and Halloween is coming up, so it's got that seasonal thing going for it. I don't think anyone's ever written a report about the facts, so Mrs. Tolliver will probably go for it. If she gives her written consent, then we can go the the Sheriff's office and ask to see the documentation and stuff like that. And we can ask people things without being told to mind our own business, 'cause it's for school and 'Mad Dog McCrary' is local history!"

Linda chewed it over. "Oh well, even if we can't prove anything, at least we'll get a killer report out of it. And maybe we'll get a few people thinking about what really happened."

"So? If we don't prove anything, 'getting a few people thinking' won't do any real good! You know people want a juicy story more than they do boring old facts."

"Maybe. But I still think that if people get it into their heads that Doug McCrary was a real person with a family and friends, not just some monster running around hacking people to death, then they won't be quite as quick to tell those stupid stories. That's something, isn't it?"

                                                            *****

A week later, Mrs. Tolliver's letter asking local officials to help the girls research (along with a delicate mention of Christie's father) had gotten them into the archives warehouse where documents going back as far as 1945 were kept. Any further back than that, and they were stored as historical documents. It took them a couple of days, but they managed to dig out the Sheriff's case files on Dinah Haskins's murder, sightings of  'Mad Dog McCrary' and the Medical Examiner's findings on Dinah and McCrary.

The Sheriff's case file was pretty skimpy, but the Medical Examiner's reports weren't. The ME had been very thorough (Linda thought that it was probably because the TV show Quincy was still on or something), but the report hadn't been written for laymen. Christie took it as a personal challenge to sift through the report.

One day, Christie even went so far as to take the ME's report and a few medical texts with her to the breakfast table.

Melissa, her stepmother, looked at all the books. "Running a wee bit late with our homework, are we?"

"No, I'm researching a report for school; the real facts behind a local legend."

"Oh? Which one?" her father asked. Mister MacBride was in his mid-forties, and he was trim from the daily exercises that he did to stay in shape in order to look good for his second wife. But then, he'd done the same for his first, while they were married. "Maybe I could give you a few pointers."

"Douglas McCrary."

"Douglas McCrary?" Mister MacBride looked puzzled. "I don't think I remember any Douglas McCrary--"

"Oh, you remember!" Melissa prompted him. Melissa was often accused of being a 'trophy wife', even though she'd only become involved with Thomas MacBride after Elaine, his first wife, left him. She had the long, sleek golden blonde sort of good looks that last well into a woman's sixties, and she was still in her mid-thirties. Only the fact that she was a 'local girl' whose family had been in Denton for generations made her acceptible to local society. "'Mad Dog' McCrary? Back in the Eighties, that creep who drowned a girl out in Miner's Hole."

"Really? I thought that 'Mad Dog McCrary' was just some generic 'serial killer' spook that the kids came up with."

"No, Dear. I remember perfectly. They caught him red-handed with Dinah Haskin's body."

"Oh! Dinah Haskins! Now I remember! Yes, I remember Dinah Haskins. Very pretty. She was the county Beauty Queen that year, if I remember correctly. I remember her father coming in and asking about raising some funds so that she could go on to the Miss Pennsylvania Pageant. He thought that she could have gone all the way to the Miss America Pageant. I remember how upset people were when she was killed. But I don't think they ever caught the guy who did it."

"Well, sort of," Christie said. "A bunch of locals caught up with this McCrary guy just after they found her out by Drowning Hole and they lynched him."

"Well, that's- tragic, but I don't see how you become a local legend with one killing and a case of Mob Justice."

"Well, people started embroidering the story, saying that McCrary had killed dozens of children before he got caught."

"Why were they so sure that McCrary killed Dinah?"

"Well, according to the Sheriff's report, McCrary had been convicted of First Degree Manslaughter eight years before. He was supposed to have killed a kid in a fight out at Miner's Hole, and people were still sore at him."

"Oh, Yes! Now I remember! The McCrary boy claimed that he and the other boy had been fighting, and the other boy slipped and fell into the swimming hole. But, the other boy had a little sister who saw the fight, and claimed that the McCrary boy went down, got her brother in a headlock as he tried to struggle out of the water and drowned him. It was something of a sensation back then."

"Daddy, do you think I could get a look at the Court Records of the trial?"

"Well, Dear, there wasn't a trial."

"What?"

"Roger McCrary cut a deal for his son with the County Attorney, and pled him Guilty on the lesser charge of Manslaughter, instead of First Degree Murder."

"Yes," Melissa said over the rim of her coffee cup, "I remember that people were very upset about that, an outsider killing a local boy and pretty much getting off Scot-Free! That's probably why they were so upset that they took the Law into their own hands when he killed poor Dinah Haskins."

"Well, Actually, Melissa, I've found something that suggests that McCrary _didn't_ kill Dinah Haskins."

Melissa almost choked on her coffee. "_What?_"

"Well, most of this Medical Examiner's report-"

"You're reading a Medical Examiner's Report at the Breakfast Table?" 

"Oh, not the gory stuff. But I found three things that don't add up."

"What's that, Punkin'?" Thomas MacBride asked, genuinely interested.

"Well, One- According to the Medical Examiner's Report, there was a sign of a concussion on the back of Dinah Haskin's head that he said appeared to have been made by a hard edged but not sharp object- like the corner of a table or a stair, not a knife. It showed signs of having formed a scab, which it wouldn't have if the wound had been made in the water. Also, while she did die of drowning and there was water in her lungs, the ME says that there wasn't that much water in the lungs. Dinah Haskins was probably very close to death before she went into the water, and she died almost as soon as the water went in her lungs. Also, the ME says that there wasn't much of the irritation of the larynx that usually shows up when people try to cough up that much water."

Mister MacBride mulled that over. "So, you're saying that she was unconscious when she went in the water."

"No, the ME says that he thinks she probably briefly snapped back into awareness when the killer pushed her head under the water. She did try to cough up some of the water, and there were a few signs of a struggle."

"Interesting. What else, Honey?"

"Well, here's where it gets really interesting, Daddy! The ME writes that Dinah had bruises on her wrists, the kind that suggest that she was dragged for a long distance by her arms. Also there were scrapes and cuts along her legs with a few traces of grass that didn't wash out in the water. The Sheriff's report says that they found her dress up in the woods above the Hole, and it had also cuts and stains like that."

"So?" Melissa sniffed. "All that means is that that creep McCrary hit her on the head, tried to take advantage of her while she unconscious, dragged her through the woods and drowned her in the swimming hole."

"That's what Sheriff  Conway thought at the time. But according to his ME report, Douglas McCrary was 5' 10" and in good condition. Dinah Haskins was 5' 1" and a 110 pounds dripping wet! If McCrary was trying to get rid of her body, why didn't he just carry the body through the woods instead of dragging it? And why drag it all the way down that slope and into the water and drown her, when he could have just as easily just chucked the body over one of those overhangs? He could have tried to make it look like she was by that beam that kids are always daring each other to cross and fell over?"

"Weeelll... Maayybeee..." Melissa fished for a bit, "he didn't want the sound of the splash gathering anyone's attention?"

"Way out by Miner's Hole? Who would hear? And if he just pushed her over the edge, he could be gone before anyone noticed him. Besides, the ME's report says that, despite the fact that Dinah Haskin's underwear wasn't found, she hadn't been sexually violated. So why bother removing her dress and underwear?"

Melissa gave her step-daughter a pained look. "Christie, this is NOT an appropriate topic for light breakfast conversation." Thomas agreed; even if the discussion was interesting, it was beginning to put him off his feed a bit.

"Okay, but there's one last thing that makes me think that Douglas McCrary didn't kill Dinah Haskins."

<sigh> "And what's that?"

"The ME's report says that Dinah Haskins had bruises on her neck and shoulders, the kind that happen when someone is shoving the victim under the water."

"Well! See? There you are! You say that Douglas McCrary was big and strong enough to carry Dinah through the woods- then he'd be big and strong enough to hold her underwater!"

"Actually, you don't need to be that strong, especially if the person you're trying to drown already has a concussion. But the point is, there are distinct signs of nail marks on the bruises, where the fingernails of the murderer pressed into Dinah Haskin's flesh just as she died."

"So?"

"According to the ME report on Douglas McCrary, he bit his fingernails. He didn't have any fingernails to leave those kinds of marks."

That stopped the conversation at the MacBride breakfast table.

"Maybe he bit them off, just to confuse things?" Melissa said, obviously grasping at straws.

"Why? If he just killed her, then he had a lot more important things to worry about than his fingernails. Besides,-"

Mister MacBride stopped her with a hand. "Enough of that, Christie. It's just not breakfast table conversation. And Christie? I don't want you going around town asking people a lot of embarrassing questions."

"Why Not? Somebody may remember something about Doug McCrary or Dinah Haskins that might tell us who really did it!"

"Well, dear, there are two things that you're not taking into account- One, Douglas McCrary was killed by a lynch mob. We are talking about at least six people who took the Law into their own hands and killed a man. They can live with themselves because they think they had Justice on their side. They need that justification; they aren't going to be very happy if you start suggesting that they murdered an innocent man, and they most definitely won't be happy with You if you stir it up."

"What's the other thing?"

"Well, if you ARE right, and Douglas McCrary didn't kill Dinah Haskins, then somebody else did. That somebody else might still be around. And after almost twenty years, they are going to be more than unhappy if you get people looking for the real killer."

                                                            *****

Barry walked up to Linda as she leafed through the copies of the Denton Recorder at the library. "Hey, Sis. I heard that you and Christie are going around saying that Doug didn't do all those killings."

"Christie and I are doing a report on Doug and the Dinah Haskins killing for school. Say, how did you hear about it?"

"Coupla kids came up to me after school and started making noises about 'being chummy with a killer' and stuff."

"You didn't get beat up or anything, did you?"

"Hey, nothin' to worry about. Just a bunch of assholes lookin' for someone to bully. I stared 'em down, and they went lookin' for someone easier to harrass."

"How did they know about it?"

"Hey, if those three dipsticks knew about it, then everyone in town has heard about it. So, wha'cha found, so far?"

"Well, not much about Doug, but they did print a lot about Dinah Haskins. Apparently, she was like THE Hot Babe in her High School back then- Beauty Pageants, Cheerleader, Drama Club, heavy favorite for Queen of the Junior Prom, that sort of thing."

"Well, if she was so hot, then maybe the guy who killed her was a jilted boyfriend, or the guy that she turned down for a date. Or maybe she went up to the Hole with a date and he wanted to go all the way, she wouldn't, and things got out of hand."

"Maybe. But what I'm looking for is some idea of who said they saw Doug dragging Dinah Haskins off into the woods. The newspaper makes some pretty vague mentions of 'reports that McCrary was seen pulling Dinah into the woods against her will', but doesn't say WHO saw them, WHEN, or WHERE."

"They kept yelling that someone named 'Liza' had seen me dragging off Dinah." Suddenly, McCrary was right there, and the library reading room grew chill.

"Whoa! Where did you come from?"

"Out by the filling station. A bunch of blue collar types were talking about you stirring things up. I was worried for you for a bit, but then they started talking about the Steelers chances in the upcoming season, and they forgot about you. Not to worry."

"How did you know where we were?"

"I heard you talking about me. Part of the thing that keeps me here is that I hear everything that's said about me, no matter where I am, or they are."

"So, what are people saying?"

"Oh, they're upset. I can't blame poor Mr & Mrs. Haskins; one of the few consolations that they have about their daughter's death is that they think that the guy who did it is dead. And now you're trying to say that it was someone else. Her brother, Fred Haskins, ain't happy either."

"What about her boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend? I don't know about any boyfriend."

"Oh, come on!" Linda pulled out the 1987 Yearbook for the local High School and opened up to a color plate of Dinah Haskins. Dinah Haskins was a beautiful girl, who showed all the signs of maturing into a classic beauty. Her hair was a midnight black which set off her sapphire blue eyes. She had a perfect oval face with high cheekbones, a squarish chin and a straight nose. She was full-chested, but not over-developed. She looked out of the picture with the calm assurance of a young woman who's absolutely gorgeous and knows it. "Are you going to tell me that a girl who looks like _that_ isn't going to have a boyfriend?"

"Well, I don't hear anyone making moaning noises about Dinah being his lost love. I mean, maybe a girl who looks like that doesn't have a boyfriend because she's too busy playing the field."

"You mean--no guy thinks of her as his girlfriend because she never stuck with one guy for very long?"

Doug shrugged. "Hey, don't look at me. I only lived here for a year before they threw me into Juvie, and then my family cleared out of this town, except Grampa. And when we came back to settle his affairs, I was only here for three days, and the only reason that people talked to me was to threaten to break my neck!"

Barry looked at Doug. "Why were they so cheesed off at you, after Ten Years? I mean, it was obviously an accident!"

Doug shrugged again. "Hey, it's a small town, people hold grudges. Though, now that you mention it, there was something of a grudge going on there--" There was something that was beginning to click, but it didn't. Doug sighed. "Anyway, there's something that I want you two to understand. I've been waiting for all three of you to be together, but it looks like that ain't gonna happen today. Yesterday morning, Christie's father told her something very important that I think you should understand. First, the people in the lynch mob that killed me aren't going to be very grateful if you tell them that they murdered an innocent man. Secondly, whoever did kill Dinah may still be out there, and he REALLY isn't going to be happy if you keep poking around. And there's a third thing that very few people remember, that makes all of this very dangerous."

"What's that?"

"Two of the guys in the lynch mob were Sheriff's deputies. One of 'em still is."

"What about the other one?"

"He's the Sheriff."

<Eee-Yeewww!!> "The Sheriff--  he isn't--"

"Thinking about doing anything drastic? Couldn't say, I don't read minds, I just hear things that people say about me. He and that deputy have had a couple of tense conversations about it. To be honest, I think that as long as you don't go poking around as to who was in the lynch mob, that either one of 'em will do anything drastic."

Doug got up. "Well, I'd best be going. It's getting pretty cold in here, and you'll want to warm up a little before you go home. It's getting late, and it's starting to rain. I don't want either of you catching a cold because of me."

Then Doug's face went blank as a slate. "Oh, God. No." He looked at Linda and Barry. "Get on your bikes and get out to Miner's Hole, NOW! Christie is up there, and she's in danger!"

"Danger? How? Why is she up there?"

"I don't know! I just know that she's in deadly danger! Get UP there as quick as you can!" And then he was simply gone, leaving only a few wet spots and a fading chill to show that he'd been up there at all.

                                                            *****

Linda and Barry biked through the drizzle and into the lowering dark as fast as they could. Even so, it would take them at least 45 minutes to get there. But Doug was there in the fleeting of an instant, drawn there by the primal connection of a ghost to the place that they die. Looking around, Doug saw a brief glimpse of someone wearing a bright yellow hooded slicker and waders as they clambered up the muddly slope. Doug instinctively knew exactly where Christie was. He ran into the water as quickly as he could and found her chilly and unmoving form. She wasn't completely dead- at least not yet.

Doug dragged her body to the edge of the water and felt her skin. She was cold, and very little heat seeped out of her into him. She wasn't breathing. Doug looked around. Whoever the wiseguy in the slicker was, he wasn't sticking around, and Doug couldn't call for help. Nobody hears ghosts, not when it's important.

Doug strained his ears for any clue as to when Linda and Barry might get there. From what he could hear, they would take far too long. He furiously pumped on her chest and managed to get some of the water out, but it wasn't enough. Doug looked up to a Heaven that offered only rain. "Forgive me, God- there's no other way."

With that, Doug lowered his lips to Christie's and began giving her Artificial Respiration.

                                                            *****

As Linda and Barry pulled up to the 'Private Property! Danger! Keep Out!' sign that barred Kitchener Road from the access road, they spotted a late model luxury car parked there. As they rushed through the woods, they spotted a light and yelled at it. The light came closer, and it turned out to be a flash-light held by a rather stressed looking woman in a raincoat. "What are you kids doing out here in the rain?" she asked.

Linda searched furiously for an excuse, but Barry beat her to the punch. "Christie MacBride! She's here somewhere! She's in danger!"

"Christie? In danger? Where is she?"

"How do you know her?"

"I'm Melissa MacBride, her step-mother. About an hour and a half ago, we got a phone call from a man who said that he had some important information about the Dinah Haskins killing. He told us to meet him here by the Keep Out sign. When we got here, I turned my back for a second, and Christie just upped and disappeared! I've been searching everywhere for her for the better part of an hour!"

"The Hole!" Barry yelled, "She's at the Hole!"

"The Hole?" Mrs. MacBride went pale in the face. "Oh, my god."

"What's the matter?"

"Earlier, while I was looking for Christie, I thought that I saw a man. He was wearing a yellow hooded slicker. Oh God, it was the ghost of Mad Dog McCrary!" With that, Mrs. MacBride turned and hurried to Miner's Hole.  There at the water's edge was Christie's still body, barely visible in the gloom.

Linda, Barry and Mrs. MacBride hurried down the slope, slipping in the mud. Mrs. MacBridge leaned over Christie. "Oh, my God- I think she's dead! She's not breathing!"

Linda pushed her aside and began breathing heavily into Christie's mouth. "No, she's breathing! It's very shallow, but she's breathing!" 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Can you call 9-1-1?"

"No, I'm afraid not. This is a small town- the cell phones around here operate off the Fredericksville relay, and we're well out of that range. And we can't wait to get into cell phone range and wait for the paramedics- we're going to have to carry her out by hand."

Mrs. MacBride guided them out a path on a gentler slope than the steep one they'd come in on. As Mrs. MacBride and Linda carried Christie out, Barry stayed behind. When Mrs. MacBride was well out of earshot, Barry called out, "Doug? Doug, are you there? Did you see who attacked Christie? Did 'Mad Dog' get out?"

But the only sound was the patter of the rain.

                                                            *****

The doctor looked at Christie and said, "You are in surprisingly good shape for someone who had barely escaped drowning. I think we'll keep you here overnight for observation, but you should be okay to leave in the morning."

"Thank you, doctor," Christie said, obviously rather distracted.

"So, do you remember anything about who attacked you?"

"Sorry, I can only remember you getting that phone call. Past that, nothing."

"Well, that's not unusual. You weren't breathing for a while, so some memory loss is all too likely. Well, now you need some sleep, young lady."

"Please, doctor, could I talk with Linda and Barry for a bit?"

"Not with your parents?"

"Yeah, well, them, too. But there's something that I gotta ask 'em."

"Very well, if it will let you rest better. But not too long. You got off easy, but suffocation is very dangerous, especially in the long run."

The doctor allowed Linda and Barry in and left them alone. Linda came closer, very worried. "Christie, are you okay? What happened?"

But Barry had bigger concerns. "I stayed behind and tried to talk to Doug to find out what happened. He's not there!"

"I know," Christie rasped. "When I got there, poor Christie was already floating face down in the water." Barry and Linda looked at her incredulously. Christie held up a hand. "I dragged her out of the water, but she wasn't breathing. I knew that you two weren't anywhere near, so I had to give her Mouth-to-Mouth."

Barry and Linda gaped. "Doug--is that YOU?"

Douglas McCrary, wearing the body of Christie MacBride, nodded sadly. "This is not by my choice. It was either this, or let Christie die."

Linda looked deep into Doug/Christie's eyes. "Is Christie in there with you?"

Doug shook her head. "Nope. I'm not sure what is going on. But she didn't really die, either. The best that I can come up with is that Meg once told me that a person's ghost sometimes leaves a body before it's completely dead. Like the 'breath of life' is knocked out of them."

"Y'mean, like those 'Near Death Experiences' that you sometimes hear about on TV?"

"Well, I wouldn't know - Ghosts can't watch TV - but if you're talking about what I think you're talking about, that's it. I think Christie sort of had the 'breath of life' knocked out of her, and her ghost is still out there at Miner's Hole."

"But if she is, why didn't she say anything when I was calling for you back at the Hole?" Barry asked.

"Well, Ghosts don't 'wake up' immediately. It took months before I knew myself back when I died. But there's another possibility - another thing that Meg told me is that she picked up somewhere that sometimes when a person murders someone - that is, willfully intentionally takes another person's life - that they take the 'breath of life' with them. She said that was the reason that some 'serial killers' get such a kick out of killing people- they sort of 'consume' their victims' 'breath of life'."

"You think that whoever did this, ATE her breath of life?"

"I rather doubt that. But it is possible that Christie's ghost is sort of 'stuck' with whoever killed her. And BOTH of these theories hinge on one thing that we can't prove one way or another."

"What's that?"

"That Christie didn't simply Pass Over immediately. It happens a lot. As a matter of fact, it happens a lot more often than people becoming ghosts. My 'breath of life' may be the only thing keeping this body alive."

Linda worried her lip. "Doug- can you, y'know, use Christie's memories? I mean, Christie couldn't help but be able to see who grabbed her and dragged her into the water and held her under! If you could tell us who did it, then we could figure out how to get Christie's ghost back from him, if he has it!"

"I could, but it would defeat the purpose. Right now, I'm sort of holding back, keeping from getting comfortable in this body. If I let myself get comfortable, then I might not be able to give it up when we finally find Christie."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but I can't take the chance. You have no idea how tempting this is. I've been a ghost for longer than either of you has been alive. After years of just being smoke in the wind, I have a body again! I can breathe! I can hear my heart beating! I can actually touch things! I'm going to Eat again! I almost broke into tears of joy when I stubbed my toe! 'Mad Dog' keeps whispering in my ear to just dig in and enjoy it! Forget Christie! Live her life! But that's wrong. And if I try to read Christie's memories, it might be too much; I might just hook everything up and take over. I've been dead for longer than you have been alive, and now I'm Alive again. You have no idea..."

"Oh, dont' give me that!" Linda snapped. "You're just afraid that if you access her memories, then we'll find her, and you'll have to give up her body!"

"IF I were going to risk my immortal soul - and that's all I've Got right now - and hijack somebody's body, don't you think that I would have taken the body of one of those countless rugged boys? Why would I wait for a girl's body, if I was that ruthless?"

"Because you haven't been in this situation before! You suddenly find yourself in a body, and for all your whining about how tempting it is and how you're fighting it, you're doing the very thing that guarantees that you get to keep it! If you're such a 'Higher Soul', then prove it!"

Doug glowered at her for a second and then closed his/her eyes. Doug concentrated and then opened his/her eyes open wide with surprise. "Christie's alive!"

"What do you mean, she's alive? Her body is right here? What about her ghost?"

"That's what I mean! She didn't Pass Over! I connected with Christie's memories, but it's like watching TV or something, not like I'm really remembering what she saw and said! There must be part of Christie's vital force still in this body! That means that her ghost IS out at Miner's Hole!"

"And not with the killer?"

"I can feel her now, out at Miner's Hole. She's asleep, more or less. And if there's anything that I've learned over the last 15 years, it's where Miner's Hole is." Doug looked hard at Linda and Barry. "I've got to get out to Miner's Hole. And I've got to do it within three days!"

"Three days? Why three days?"

"Didn't you ever read the Bible? Jesus himself rose after three days, and He waited three days to raise Lazarus, because after three days you're supposed to be completely dead! And Vampires are supposed to rise after three nights, because it takes that long for the resident spirit to completely vactate. After three days, Christie's spirit will divide into her Higher and Bestial Souls, and it'll be that much harder to get her back in here."

"Not three days- TWO days. You've been laid up, remember?"

"Good point. And the problem is, after this close call, Mister MacBride will probably specifically forbid Christie - that is, Me - from going anywhere NEAR Miner's Hole!"

"Do you have a cell phone?"

"Cell phone? Oh right, those 'Star Trek' lookin' things. Lemme check. Yep! Being a rich man's darling daughter definitely has its perks! The number is 555-1234."

"Okay, it'll be cutting it close, but there's a costume party over at Andrea Blocker's house. I remember talking with Christie about it, wondering what to wear. Here's what we do. You wheedle your Da- I mean Mr. MacBride into letting you go. You even offer to let him send along a chaperone. When we get there, we change clothing, and you go up to the Hole in my costume. It shouldn't be hard- we're the same height and weight, and we'll both chose costumes that cover our faces. You can even use my bike. Just GET THERE in time, 'cause we are cutting it Very thin here."

"Hold Up!" Barry objected. "Aren't we forgetting something? Like, what was Christie doing out there? Did she see who attacked her?"

"Well, as I remember, Mrs. MacBride said something about getting a phone call from somebody who said that they had information. She drove up there with Christie and they got separated in the dark. And she said that she saw a man in a yellow hooded slicker and waders running through the woods."

"Well, at least the part about the guy in the slicker is on the money," Doug agreed. "When I got there, I saw a guy in a yellow slicker running up the slope out of the Hole. Gimme a second while I see what Christie remembers."

Doug concentrated again. "Yep, I see Christie and her step-mother driving up to the access road. Christie sees something in the woods and goes to see what it is. She loses Melissa in the dark, and she gets lost in the woods. Then someone - can't see his face - wearing a yellow slicker comes up and tries to grab her backpack."

"Backpack? Why would he be grabbing her backpack?"

"Probably because she had the Sheriff's Report and the Medical Examiner's Report in there. The caller said that he had information that had something to do with the reports."

"Well, that was pretty obvious!" Barry grumped. "No wonder Christie got jumped, falling for a lame trap like that!"

"Well, Christie was expecting Melissa to be there. Odd, since Christie and Melissa don't get along very well."

"So I hear," Linda said. "Christie's always complaining about Melissa's always trying to boss her around. Sounds like pretty standard step-mother/step-daughter stuff to me."

"Anyway, the guy in the slicker ends up chucking her over the side of the gorge into the Hole."

Linda chewed her lip. "That's a thirty-foot drop at least, into cold water. Christie was probably knocked out cold the second she hit the water. So why did the guy in the slicker go down a slick muddly slope, if she was probably as good as dead already?"

"I Dunno. I can only read Christie's memories, not other people's thoughts. Maybe to make sure that she was dead. Christie was floating face down when I got to her, so he didn't have to bother going in the water to finish her off."

Barry nodded. "Okay, that probably means that this guy really wanted what was in the reports, and killing Christie was just an afterthought."

Linda put a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Okay, okay, very shrewd, Sherlock! We can figure that out after we get Christie back into her body." Linda looked at Doug. "You WILL be able to get her back into her body, won't you?"

Doug smiled comfortingly. "This is Christie's body, and it still has some of her life force in it. Right now, Christie's ghost is floating around in the cold. She'll come back into the warm, once she knows where it is."

                                                            *****

Just as they'd feared, Mister MacBride laid down the law on 'Christie' doing any more 'snooping' into Dinah Haskin's murder. And, as they hadn't foreseen, he was against 'Christie' going to any Halloween parties.

"But Dad-DEE! The doctor said that I'm all right! Why can't I go to Andrea Blocker's Halloween party?" Doug whined at Mr. MacBride.

"Christie, it's not the party that I'm worried about. What I'm worried about is the fact that somebody tried to Kill you a couple of days ago!"

"Daddy, the guy who knocked me off the cliff was trying to get my backpack, not kill me. He GOT it. Why would he risk calling any more attention to himself by trying to kill me? I mean, if this guy had something to do with the killing of Dinah Haskins, then his best defense is the fact that everyone thinks that Douglas McCrary did it; right now, we can't prove that what happened to me was anything more than a simple accident. If he tries again, then we have Proof that there is something about that killing that someone's hiding, and that's the last thing that he wants."

"I just don't like the idea of you going to a party with a bunch of people in costumes, where anybody can pull almost anything. And with all the fuss about Douglas McCrary that you've stirred up, you can bet that there are going to be a lot of people running around in yellow slickers, just to be sick!"

"But Daddy- it wouldn't be Halloween without a few lapses in good taste!"

Melissa broke in. "Tom, dear, how about this? Christie goes to Andrea's party, and I go along as a chaperone?"

"But Melissa- we were going to go to the Salts' Halloween party together!"

"Tom, you know that Lauren Salt and I don't get along! Believe it or not, I'd rather help ride herd on a bunch of teenagers than stand around fending off 'wrong side of the tracks' cracks from Lauren and her crew of harpies. Besides, this way you can have fun with George and Erwin without having to play peacemaker. Believe me, Honey, it's best all around this way."

Thomas pouted for a bit. "But we were going to go as Bonnie and Clyde!"

"So put on a borsalino hat and a theatrical scar and say that you're Al Capone! Besides," she leaned in and purred, "I heard Wanda Blocker saying that all the female chaperones at the party were going dressed as Catwoman! <rawr!>"

Thomas' eyes lit up at the thought of Melissa in a skin-tight latex suit, and he nodded his assent.

"Cool!" Doug enthused. "Then _I'll_ go as Batgirl!"

                                                            *****

It had been a wonderful bit of serendipity for Doug that Melissa had given him the excuse to go as Batgirl. Christie had seen the Batgirl costume in a local store, and had passed it over for a more frilly 'princess' costume. The Batgirl costume came off and went back on very quickly, the face mask was an essential part of the costume, and the outfit required a red wig. With all that, making the switch would be easy as pie.

            Of course, if you do pull this off, it's back to drifting around in the dark, 'Mad Dog' whispered in his ear.

Shut up, Mad Dog, Doug silently answered back. Nobody wants your opinion on anything.

            What a pity. And I was going to compliment you on how cute you look in your Batgirl outfit.

Yes, I do, don't I? Oh, shut up, Mad Dog! After fifteen years of floating around as a ghost, practically anything would be an improvement.

            It wouldn't take much- all you have to do is just...not make it in time. Poor Christie, she never had a chance. And it's not like it's OUR fault- you didn't ask her to start asking all those fool questions or go out to Miner's Hole at night.

I ignore you.

            Or at least, you can try. Remember, tonight is Halloween, and there will lots of smartass locals running around dressed as Me. I'm going to be strong tonight. You're going to need every ounce of strength you've got even while we're like this. What do you think I'll do, once we're out in the dark again? I'll be strongest then, and you'll have used up all your willpower doing this one minor, insignificant little good deed. Go ahead, do whatever you please- either way, I win.

 

If you could do anything, you wouldn't be trying to be subtle, Doug sneered inwardly.

The Batgirl costume was patterned after the classic model that Yvonne Craig wore in the 1960's TV show. It consisted mostly of a clinging, dark blue spandex bodysuit with a yellow 'bat' insignia on the chest and a zipper down the back. The scalloped cape barely reached down to the small of Doug's back, but the tight-fitting mask and cowl obscured most of his/her face, which was what was really wanted. Still, the spandex did make Christie's lithe, pubescent body look good. It looked even better after Doug stashed a little padding into his/her bra cups.

                                                            *****

Doug was increasingly aware that time was running out for Christie as he waited the crawling hours until the Blocker's Halloween party. As darkness began to fall, the MacBrides got ready for the annual Feast of Fools. Taking Melissa's advice, Thomas modified his 'Clyde Barrows' outfit with a white borsalino hat and a make-up scar down one cheek. It was a testament to Mr. MacBride's commitment to his exercise regimen that he more closely resembled Clyde Barrows (if not Warren Beatty), than he did the heavy-set Al Capone. Like most women whose position depended on her looks, Melissa also paid a lot of attention to her physical condition. As a result, she looked very nice in her skin-tight latex catsuit. Of course, the fact that Denise Blocker also put a lot of work into her body and would also be functioning as a chaparone never entered into it.

When the time came, Thomas got into his car, and Doug and Melissa got into hers, and they each drove off to their respective functions.

Andrea Blocker was 16, and most of her guest were 16 or 17, with a sprinkling of extremely cool 15-year olds. 'Christie' had been invited mostly on the basis of her father's connections, and Linda was been invited as a favor to 'Christie'. When they rang the doorbell, Mitzi Carlton answered the door. Mitzi was another Chaperone, and it seemed that there was a competition of sorts as to which chaperone was going to look the best in her suit. Mitzi pointed out Linda to 'Christie'. Linda was dressed as a ninja, and keeping in character, was doing a good job of blending into the background.

Doug scampered up to Linda and they did the happy girl squeal dance as they hugged. As they settled down, Doug said, "A Ninja? Couldn't you think of anything more obvious?"

"Don't give me any shit, McCrary. I'm almost cooking to death, wearing that stupid Batgirl bodystocking under this suit!"

"Well, we're all going to have to make some sacrifices tonight. At least yours will be over when we switch places- mine will just be beginning."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Doug--  I'm really sorry that I got on your case back at the hospital."

"Don't sweat it. I was thumb-sucking, and a good kick in the ass is the best way to knock a thumb out."

Sweating over every lost minute, Doug and Linda stood around, not quite getting into the swing of the party, until Melissa got interested in something else. The second that they were reasonably sure that they could pull off the switch, they ducked into the ground floor powder room.  As they stripped out of their outer garments, Linda told Doug exactly where she'd chained her bike. They were just putting the finishing touches on their masks, Doug remembered something. He/she dug furiously under her blouse and handed Linda two breast pads. "Hey, it's part of the costume."

"Sure, McCrary, Sure."

                                                            *****

Doug and Linda returned to the party for a bit, just to make sure that the switch would work. It did. As the youngest kids there, the hipper, older kids blandly ignored them. When they were sure, Doug slipped out the back door and blended into the night.

Doug found that 'Mad Dog' wasn't taking all of this lying down, and as promised, Halloween was definitely making him more powerful. Mad Dog tried to make Doug think that he/she was tired; he suggested kids in Halloween costumes; in general, he made the 50 minute trip as difficult as possible. McCrary just narrowed his/her field of vision and pushed on, ignoring all distractions. As a result, Doug just barely avoided being hit by a car, but he/she finally got to the access road.

But when Doug got there, somebody had beaten him there.

There was a late model luxury car parked right by the Keep Out sign. Doug recognized the car. He/she looked in the back, and recognized the cardigan sweater that Melissa wore while she was driving. What the hell was Melissa's car doing here?

Doug dug through his/her pockets and fished out Christie's cell phone. Doug scrunched down by the car and dialed information for Denise Blocker's house, then dialed there  direct and asked for 'Christie'. A few very tense minutes later, an overly musical voice aswered "Yeesss?"

"Chill out, Linda; it's Doug."

"What's the matter? Why are you wasting time-- wait a mintue, where are you?"

"By the Keep Out sign."

"How? Your step mo- I mean, Mrs. MacBride said that she couldn't call the Paramedics to come and haul you out of that gorge because it was out of range of her cell phone."

"This is NOT good- I'm standing right beside Melissa's car."

"Oh, Shit- Doug, I was talking to Missuz Chambers, one of the chaperones. It turns out that Mrs. Chambers and Mrs. MacBride went to the same high school. Back then, Melissa was calling herself 'Liza', and her maiden name was Paskow."

A chill went down Doug's spine. "Paskow. Denny Paskow. Melissa is 'Missy' Paskow, who swore on a stack of Bibles that I cold-bloodedly murdered her brother. AND she's the bitch who lied and said that she saw me with Dinah Haskins. The lying bitch probably sicced that lynch mob on me, too!"

"And here's something else from down Memory Lane- Mrs. Chambers told me, 'cause she'd heard that Christie was digging up dirt on Dinah Haskin's death. It seems that Melissa never bothered to mention the fact that she and Dinah Haskin were best friends- the kind of 'best friends' who are also deadly enemies. Apparently, Dinah was the sort of 'best friend' who chalked up bitch points by stealing boyfriends."

"Melissa!" Doug hissed. He/she made the name a blasphemy. "She killed Dinah Haskins! She tried to kill Christie! She's behind everything!"

'Mad Dog' came roaring out, and Doug couldn't have stopped him, even if he'd wanted to. Mad Dog went tearing into the darkness, not caring that he didn't have the slightest idea of where Melissa might be.

After haring around for a while, he spotted a flashing light in the woods. He ran toward the light, hell-bent on mayhem, whether it was Melissa or not. Doug just barely managed to keep Mad Dog restrained enough to keep from crashing head-first into a tree.

Finally, Mad Dog found the light. It was being held by a figure in a hooded yellow slicker, wearing waders. The face was a long corpse-like visage, and a noose dangled from his neck. Mad Dog found this pathetic farce a joke and laughed.

"Who's there?" came out muffled by the jokeshop mask. The figure swung the flashlight to the sound of the laughter. Mad Dog pulled the ninja mask down and gave a feral grin. "Christie? What are you doing here?"

"Who are YOU supposed to be, Melissa? Mad Dog McCrary?"

Melissa assumed an impatient posture with one fist on a cocked hip that was completely at odds with her outer dress. "Well! I certainly wasn't expecting to see You here, but if I get rid of you, then I don't have to find those stupid files, do I?" So that's what the half-wit bitch was doing out here- looking for the backpack that she must have dropped when she went hurrying down the slope to make sure of Christie.

Mad Dog ignored that. "You can't be Mad Dog McCrary! I AM! You Killed Me! You ruined my family! You sent Grampa to an early grave! You ruined my name, and turned me into a Goddamn Creature of the Night! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"       

With that, Mad Dog, empowered by the perverse energies that flow so easily on Halloween, came roaring out of Christie's body, leaving his Higher Soul behind.

Melissa gave a shrill scream that the mask did nothing to muffle as Mad Dog McCrary, the slanderous lie that she'd so carefully built around the memory of Douglas McCrary, her own invention, came streaming out of Christie's eyes and mouth. She dropped the flashlight and bolted out into the woods, not caring where she went.

Doug shook his/her head, getting used to being in control again. It was strange, not having to squelch 'Mad Dog'. He picked up Melissa's flashlight and then remembered the cell phone still in his/her hand. "Linda?"

"Doug? What's going on? What happened?"

"Mad Dog got out. Call 9-1-1 and have them send Paramedics out to Miner's Hole. Tell them that Mrs. MacBride is in a world of trouble, tell them anything. I don't know what's going on, but somebody's in for a world of hurting tonight!"

Then another shrill shriek pierced the night, and Doug knew exactly what had happened. "The Hole. She's fallen into the Hole. Linda, get the medics here, NOW!"

Doug closed the cell phone and ran as fast as possible for the swimming hole. Flashing the light down, he spotted exactly what he'd feared- a body in a yellow hooded slicker, floating face down in the water of Miner's Hole. Doug clambered down the slope, grateful for the cross-trainers under the ninja-suit. He splashed through the water and got to Melissa. Melissa wasn't moving, and she wasn't breathing. There was a huge bump on her head. Doug tried to swim, but Melissa's weight was dragging them both down.

Oh right, Doug thought. I'm material now. I've got to do something to make the load lighter. Fighting the killing chill of the water, Doug peeled the slicker, the mask and the waders off Melissa. It didn't do much, but it did help.

Finally, exhausted, Doug pulled Melissa out to the water's edge. He pumped as much water out of her lungs as he could, but she didn't resume breathing. "Oh, Hell- Deja Vu All Over Again!" Doug put his/her mouth to Melissa's and began administering Mouth-to-Mouth resusitation.

                                                            *****

The minute that Linda heard Doug say, 'Linda, get the medics here, NOW!', she cut the line and dialed 9-1-1. Then she went to Mrs. Chambers and spilled a garbled, bare-bones, no-embarrassing-details version of the truth. Mrs. Chambers immediately bundled both of them into her car and went tearing out to Miner's Hole. When they got to the Keep Out sign, Mrs. Chambers stayed behind to alert the Paramedics (IF they were coming), while Linda went on ahead.

When she got to the ledge, at first all that Linda could see was a flashlight way down near the bottom. Using the flashlight as a beacon, Linda picked her way down the slope, until she could make out two dark forms lying on the water's edge. She hurried over to Christie's body first and shook her. Christie was breathing, but she was unconscious. Linda tried to shake her awake, and for a wonder, the girl began to rouse. "Linda?" The girl asked groggily. "What's going on?"

"Christie? Is that you?"

"Hunh? Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"

Linda looked around. "Doug? Doug, where are you?"

Then Mrs. MacBride's form twitched and she looked up. "Linda?" she murmurred, "Christie? Is she back? Did it work?"

Linda looked down at the lithe latex-clad form. "Doug? Is that you?"

But before Doug could answer, there was a sound that came from the very bottom of the Hole, a sound of something unlocking and relocking. And with a sigh, a wispy form that sort of suggested a female shape rose up out of the water and lifted up into the dark night sky.

"What was That?"

Doug's blue tinged lips weakly curved into a smile. "I'm not sure, but I think that it was Dinah Haskins. It seems that I wasn't the only prisoner at this hole!"

                                                            *****

Thomas MacBride was understandibly furious. It was bad enough to almost lose his daughter at that death-trap, but to almost lose his wife as well, less than a week later! Obviously, he went on, Miner's Hole, or Drowning Hole as it was better known, was terminally unsafe, and should be filled in.

'Melissa MacBride' just smiled indulgently. Linda had done a masterful job of covering for them all. Her story was just vague enough that people would fill in their own blanks, which is one of the best ways to lie. "Now, now, Thom, it wasn't Christie's fault. I went there to protect Christie, but instead, she saved MY life."

Thomas tried to calm down, but had to settle for glaring at Linda for her part in the debacle. "And don't blame Linda, either. She got the cavalry there in time, didn't she?"

Thomas had to admit that she had, and after giving both of his womenfolk big hugs, he left them to talk by themselves.

Christie leaned over and looked warily at 'Melissa'. "Doug? Is that you?"

"I think I'm gonna be hearing that a lot for a while. Yes, Christie it's me."

"Who's Meg?"

"A wonderful, sweet, brave old lady, who was unfairly accused of being a witch, and for a long time, my only friend. Until you three came along."

"What happened? The last thing that I remember is going up to Drowning Hole with Melissa to meet some guy and somebody in a yellow slicker tried to grab my backpack! After that- nuthin!"

Doug leaned back and sighed. "Well, for clarity's sake, let's go back about twenty years, to where all of this started. It starts with Denny Paskow. Denny was a liar, a bully, a coward and a cheat, but Melissa, or 'Missy' as she was known back then, thought that the sun shined out of his ass. Anyway, when Denny challenged me, little Missy tagged along to be in on the fun. She saw everything that happened, and from her point of view, since we were fighting when Denny died, then I must have killed him. And she said so. And suddenly, she was the focus of all this attention! So she started adding bits and pieces that she thought that people would like to hear."

"Doug, how do you know this?" Christie asked.

"I can sort of access Melissa's memories. But then, I got a lot of practice reading yours while I was keeping it warm for you."

"Oh."

"Well, Melissa does her starring role for the nice Prosecutor, and she gets me sent up for Manslaughter. Fast-forward about a decade. Little Missy has grown into a fine figure of a young lady, and she's VERY popular around High School, never mind her trailer trash origins. But, she has a problem - namely, Dinah Haskins, who is prettier, sharper, more charming and more ruthless that Missy - or 'Liza' as she was calling herself by then."

"Why would she call herself 'Liza'?"

"Well, y'gotta remember this was back in the Eighties, and Liza Minelli was still pretty big. Not as big as she'd been in the Seventies, but still glamorous enough that Melissa would think of it as a step up. Anyway, despite the fact that 'Liza' is tying herself to her apronstrings, Dinah keeps one-upping Liza at everything. Beauty Contests, Cheerleaders, Drama Club, boyfriends, the whole schmeer. Then my Grampa dies, and I come back. By now, Liza has managed to convince herself that I had indeed murdered her brother in cold blood and gotten away with a slap on the wrist. So, she stirs up as much resentment as she can without calling attention to herself. While she's busy with this, Dinah pulls some moves with Liza's boyfriend of the week, and weasels him away from her. When Liza hears about this, she flips and jumps Dinah. In the catfight, Dinah hits her head on a countertop and gets a concussion from it.

"Liza, not knowing that she hasn't killed Dinah, freaks out Big Time. She stuffs Dinah's body in the trunk of her own car and drives her out to Miner's Hole, 'cause in her mind, that's where people are murdered. En route, while she still has Dinah's body in the trunk of the car, Liza stops off at the local Yahoo watering hole and stirs up the local roughnecks, saying that she saw me grab Dinah and make off with her. After all, she knows that I've been hanging out up at Miner's Hole, trying to figure things out. While the half-drunken crowd is off chasing me, she hauls Dinah through the underbrush by way of a path that she knows about and dumps her body in the water. Right at this point, Dinah decides to come to. Liza, realizing that she's been caught red-handed, promptly drowns Dinah. Then she guides the Yahoo-pack to the body that she's found and from that point on, she couldn't have stopped them from lynching me, even if she wanted to.

"With me dead, and everybody 'knowing' that I'd killed Dinah, she felt safe. But she still kept pushing those stupid 'Mag Dog McCrary' stories, 'cause in her mind, I was to blame for everything. And if I were a monster, then she wasn't really to blame for killing Dinah.

"Fast-forward another ten years. Melissa has gone to a third rate college, gotten a business degree, and pretty much crapped out in New York and Philadelphia. So, she returns to the small town of her birth and gets a job in your father's Land Office. While she's working there she notices that, despite having a wonderful baby girl, Thomas and Gwendolyn MacBride are having marital problems. And another woman's troubles are Melissa's opportunities. While she didn't actually do anything to stir up more trouble, she definitely had a hand in seeing to it that things didn't get better between the two. I will spare you the details. Anyway, while Gwendolyn is being maneuvered into acting like a complete bitch, Melissa is being ever SO sweet, supportive and understanding to the beleaguered Thomas. As the divorce is being settled, Melissa manages to arrange a few incidents that make Thomas getting custody of his beloved daugther a certainty. Thomas, not seeing Melissa for the conniving witch that she is, is so grateful that he begins seeing her and is promptly maneuvered into marrying her.

"Fast-forward yet another ten years or so. Despite having a step-daughter that really doesn't like or respect her, things are good for Melissa. She has a rich and powerful husband, position in local society, and her looks are holding up. THEN, the afore-mentioned disrespectful step daughter suddenly develops an interest in Dinah Haskin's death, and discovers a flaw in Melissa's plot: to wit, the fingernail marks on Dinah's throat. Melissa is just smart enough to realize that she may have made a LOT of other mistakes, especially considering the circumstances. So, she fakes a phone call to her step-daughter and agrees to accompany her out to Miner's Hole. She separated herself from you, put on her 'Mad Dog McCrary' outfit and tried to grab your only real evidence- the reports. She knows that she has enough clout to have the other copies of the reports destroyed without any questions, but she needs to get those away from you without incriminating herself. While she's grabbing the backpack with the reports in it, she accidentally knocks you off the ledge and into the Hole. She goes down to see what has happened to you. Mind you, she hasn't made up her mind whether to drown you or just let you be. But when she sees you floating face down, she figures that it's all for the best. After all, you never really liked each other, and now she was Thomas MacBride's only living heir. At this point, enter the heroic ghost, unseen my any living eye. I see Melissa in her yellow slicker climbing up the slope, but I have my hands full keeping you - or at least your body - alive.

"When she gets to the top of the ledge, she slips out of the waders and slicker, reverses the slicker into her raincoat, and tucks the waders under the raincoat, just in case anyone comes along. Then she starts looking for the backpack with the documents. If she can find them, then she's free and clear. BUT, before she can find the backpack, along come the Weston kids, drawn by some mysterious force to the hole. And, while she's trying to pass your death off as yet another atrocity to be laid at the feet of the ghoulish Douglas McCrary, she finds out that you're still alive. She tries to up the odds of you dying by not calling the Paramedics to come and get you, by the simple ploy of saying that we were out of the range of her cell phone. Of course, that was the lie that really screwed her up in the long run, but then Melissa wasn’t really a planner. Her strength was a keen sense of opportunity, which can be more dangerous than the would-be Professor Moriarity types, since they aren’t tied into long range plans.

"She plays the concerned step-mother with all her might, and volunteers to keep an eye on 'you' at Andrea Blocker's Halloween party. Mind you, up to now, she hasn't had an opportunity to go up to the Hole to look. But she knows that all the Chaperones at the Blocker party are reasonably women wearing Catwoman outfits, and at night, all cats are gray. After all, nobody's keeping tabs on the Chaperones, now are they?

"Anyway, she's out there in her 'Mad Dog McCrary' outfit, hunting for that lost backpack, when I, wearing your body, come along. Linda, having just figured it all out, has filled me in using your cell phone. Now, you have to remember, while 'Mad Dog' was the manifestation of my baser instincts, he was also the manifestation of the rage and humiliation that I've been feeling for almost twenty years. Suddenly, Mad Dog had the person who was the main cause of all our suffering right in front of him, and he knew who she was. He literally came bursting out of me, attacked her and chased her off the ledge into the Hole.

"Now, here is where it gets murky."

"Oh, NOW it gets murky?" Linda muttered.

"Very funny. Anyway, when Mad Dog attacked Melissa, he chased her off the ledge and into the water. From here, it's all speculation. Apparently, on contact, Melissa AND Mad Dog were knocked out of her body and into the water. It seems that I wasn't really alone all those years- Dinah Haskin's ghost was there too, but sleeping. But having the ghost of the false friend who murdered her there was enough to both awaken and liberate Dinah's ghost, who promptly passed on to the Other Side. Now, apparently, ghostly energies are very much like water- when one mass leaves, there is a vaccuum that has to be filled. Dinah's departure seems to have left Melissa and Mad Dog trapped out at Miner's Hole."

"Okay, now you're guessing!"

"Damn straight I am! But I'm absolutely sure that Mad Dog isn't anywhere near here, and neither is Melissa."

"But that means that Drowning Hole is still haunted! And now it isn't haunted by a ghost that wants to save lives; now it's Mad Dog and Melissa! That place is Dangerous!"

"Christie, that swimming hole was always dangerous, even back in Meg's day. Now, it's even more dangerous, but you can bet the farm that I'm going to back your father in having that damned place filled in! Then Melissa and Mad Dog will be stuck in an underground lake for the rest of Eternity, with only each other for company. It isn't Hell, but it's the closest that I can arrange."

Christie shook her head. "Hold on- there's one thing that still hasn't been explained. If Melissa was looking for my backpack so hard, why didn't she find it? She must have beaten you to those woods by at least a half hour!"

"Oh, _I_ have the answer for that one, Christie," Linda said. "While he was waiting for us up on the ledge, Barry found your backpack. Melissa was so busy playing the 'grieving step-mother' that she didn't notice. It's been at our place all this time."

Then Linda leaned toward Doug. "So, one last question, Doug- what are you going to do?"

"Do?"

"With that body. Are you going to stay in it? Are you going to try and get Melissa out of that Hole before they fill it up?"

'Doug' shook her head. "I can't really DO anything, Linda. This isn't like when I was possessing Christie's body- Melissa really IS dead, and I'm the only one in here; if I leave it, this body will die. For all practical purposes, this is MY body, and I am Melissa MacBride."

"But--you're a woman now! And you're married to Mister MacBride!"

'Melissa' leaned back onto her pillow. "I'll deal with all of that in good time. But for now, I think that I can be excused if I focus on one very important thing." A single tear of joy rolled down her cheek. "I'm Alive!"

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

 

 

Since 10/15/03