Wednesday, December 10, 2008


I was told about the grave stone when I was little more than eight by a friend of mine who lived for nothing more than to scare the Hell out of me. He was older, therefore he was expected to act like the older sibling I didn't have. His name was Barry and he lived in the neighborhood that butted up against the one I grew up in and so it was easily within walking distance. We hung out all the time, and I really did see him as a brother. He was the one that told me about the grave stone and what was supposedly buried underneath it.

We sat around a little fire he'd built in his backyard back when burning leaves and twigs within the confines of your own property was still considered acceptable. He danced around the subject for a while as I brought it up; I'd asked a bit coyly if he'd heard about the 'thing' that was buried beneath the Virgin Mary head stone at the Methodist Church grave yard. He shrugged, nodded a bit, and popped another bit of jerky into his mouth. I'd told him that I guy I knew at school (at the time I was a full 2 grades below him, so, to me, he was always the source of my fantasies, if you know what I mean) had said something about it a few days ago and that he and his sister and a friend were going to go try to dig it up. Barry then looked at me with saucer-sized eyes and barked a laugh that was more nervous than humorous.

Barry conceded and launched into his story. As he was told... "a very important Church parishioner had died back in 1936 when the church was originally built. He'd come from another community bringing with him much of the ideals and teachings he'd used and put them into action to his own Church staff. Some folks were a bit taken aback by the new methods, but most fell in line and soon the Church became the most fully attended in town. Anyway, this guy... Father Terrence passed on and nearly the entire town had shown up for his interment. At that same time, one of the more boisterous anti-church townsfolk shoved his way to the front just as the dirt was being shoveled onto the casket, shouted a few incoherent curses, and tossed a plate-sized amulet into the ground. Well, he was ushered away and held down as he spat forth various bits of gibberish and, after that day, was never heard from again. Anyway, it's this Amulet that is said to give the unresting spirit of Father Terrence his haunting ability and why, it's said, the church itself is lousy with his spirit. So, there ya go."

I chuckled a little at its silliness, but somewhere deep inside it all sounded so plausible. How hard would it be to get ahold of that amulet, really? I had to know.