Prologue
A CAR IN THE WOODS
1959
An abandoned car is found in the woods. No road leading in, the dense gathering of trees surrounding it close together. Sunlight barely broke through the thick cover of leaves. The grass was stunted, starving for the light. Prickly brambles grew everywhere.
Nothing the size of that car should have been in there.
Discovered by hunters, Todd Wilson and Barry Carter, who were where they should not have been. Following an 8 point Buck led them on a long, winding chase. The Buck kept his life that day, racing off onto Government land. Todd and Barry knew enough to let it go.
Needing to catch their breaths, both pissed their quarry bounded off, beer was a given answer. Neither spoke as they chugged; they stared off in the direction of their lost prize. Todd was on his second beer while Barry was hitting his third. They nodded to each other, tossed the drained cans over their shoulders, and started their way back.
But something shiny caught them both in the eyes. The daylight had moved along just enough. Nothing should have reflected with the intensity that hit them square on. But, something did. Barry nodded and took off in the direction of the glare. Todd followed.
Following the intense gleam, they passed, and ignored, a rusted “Keep Out/ Government Property” sign that hung crookedly on one of the trees. Moving through was becoming tougher, the trees squeezing together. Todd murmured that is like a tree fort. Barry told him to shut it.
The prickly brambles in between the trunks caught at their clothing, drawing enough droplets of blood and curses from the hunters. They reached the clearing in the middle of all the towering wood. Both stopped, stared, and while Barry’s jaw dropped, Todd whistled. They both loved cars.
They loved this car especially. It came up in every conversation they had about cars. Their visits to the dealer wore out their welcome. Eleven times, with no hint of purchasing any car.
But, here. Their dream car was right before them. Not a soul around; not one they could see, anyway.
A Cherry Red Thunderbird two-door convertible! It was the model they drooled over: it had a 430ci Lincoln Interceptor J-code engine, power steering, power brakes, power windows, power seat and a new power top. It had Kelsey Hayes wire rims, front to back chrome accents, and it was smear and dirt free. What made it a little off was the convertible top: stuck, half up, half down. Barry began a low round of giggles. Todd gave him the look, but laughed himself when Barry told him that it looked like it didn’t know if it was coming or going.
Nothing was found to identify the owner. No VIN numbers, license plate, papers in the car. No stickers on the inside of the car doors, and nothing under the hood. Todd knew that the last of these beauties were produced in August of that year. It was too pristine to be any older. He thought it be something if this was the very last one made.
The inside was spotless, until Todd and Barry ran their dusty, greasy hands all over while they searched. They marred the doors, dashboard, red vinyl seats with white inserts, and even the shiny body. No matter what, the trunk wouldn’t open. Another thing that spoiled the perfection of this vehicle. .
The realization that the forest had been dead quiet didn’t hit them until a series of clicking sounds came from behind them. First one side, then another. The clicking grew in volume and then stopped. They saw nothing. No movement of any kind. There was hardly any wind to blow the leaves high above, no animals loping through, and no bugs buzzing. Quiet surrounded the duo as their nerves started to wither. The sun started its descent. That was enough. Barry and Todd made a hasty retreat.
They made it back to their truck, and sped home. Todd’s wife, Daphne, listened as they went into the whole story, the Buck a ten pointer, the extra miles they chased it, and the Ford, the Thunderbird that had assaulted Daphne’s ears way too many times. Her arms were crossed and her right foot was tapping away. She thought they just drank the day away. The boys insisted. Insisted very loudly and with enough conviction that Daphne had enough. Best way to get some peace and quiet would be to put this in the hands of the Sheriff.
She settled back with a cold one in her hand. She closed her eyes as she heard the Sheriff’s Fairlane start and drive off.
Sheriff John Miner was close to retirement. Close enough that he really didn’t care if there was a car or not. If he hadn’t gone against his instincts he might have lived long enough to hand in his badge and retire someplace warm. In the long run, he didn’t make it.
The search for the car was a bust. The Sheriff fumed as he dropped the two dopes outside the local bar.
Todd and Barry, meanwhile, made their story profitable, earning free drinks at the Barn House Bar from folks who wanted to know all the details. As the telling went on, the story…grew. It wormed its way to nearby towns by weeks end, speculations growing along the way. Wherever Todd and Barry went drinking, they set more wheels spinning.
The searching was intense. Many said they found the trees and the clearing, but no TBird. Reports were passed around: the car was glimpsed in Jeffery Hallow. No; it shone brightly at the opening of the large bear cave on Decry Hill. One group said it was by a stream, others in different parts of the forest. Never any proof; it started to slide out of their minds with each disappointment. People stopped looking for the car.
Until a group of four High School students went looking, and they did not come home.
Present Day
There was a car in the woods.
Charred. Rusted. Busted.
Picked clean. Shell just a remainder.
No road. No reason. Just there.
Not always in the same place, but there.
No one knew anything, the how or the why.
Tales grew around it.
Some said haunted. Some said the Devil parked it there. Maybe a UFO, with all the disappearances. Or not. No one was really sure. Most didn’t want to know.
I knew.
There was a car in the woods.
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Author’s Note:
Welcome to the 2019 AtoZ Blog Challenge. This is my sixth year participating, going back to 2011, the year I started Tale Spinning.
My theme this year is A Car In The Woods. First installment is above. Not every post will be this long. Length will vary. I just needed the “prologue” to set the tone.
Each time I’ve participated has been very different, from Mystery to Horror, from an Apartment Building’s residents to Road Sign drabbles. I just let the creative juices flow.
A Car In The Woods, as stands right now, will be a serialized tale with some interludes. Kind of like last year’s The Abysmal Dollhouse, but, hopefully, a bit tighter. That’s my goal. We’ll see where it goes.
Comments/Feedback is always appreciated. Check out other blogs who are taking this April’s challenge by clicking on The Master List. You’ll find a variety of blogs that you might enjoy.
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nce upon a time there was a household in turmoil. One sister, one brother, and a widow who had lost the will to keep her children proper. Her husband left her with the debt of the home and the banes of her life.
very day the siblings fought, cursed, threw fragile items at each other, stole what they could and sold those items. They wound up at the village pub drinking until oblivion took them both.
ut one day the widow unexpectedly left, never to return. By the end of the first week they tore through the makings of their home. What they couldn’t sell, they bartered. They ate, drank, and took care of their baser needs.
ntil finally, many months later, each sibling took root in a haven. Broken to their cores by this time, they each had the chance to rebuild their lives. Both found themselves welcomed and absorbed into the communities they now called home.
ver since then each found acceptance, and love, in their ways. They kept their vows: they never saw each other ever again. As to the widow, she moved in with her sister and her family in a completely different direction from her children’s wanderings. She never heard from, or saw, them again. She lived out her life in bliss.
Tale Spinning 