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Hush Little Babies

Strangers make Strange Bed Fellows...

By Suzy BohiPublished 4 years ago 7 min read
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Deep In the Woods Chilling Secrets are Hidden

Chapter Twelve

I was awakened, by the startling sound of a train echoing in my skull. I rolled over and asked Jeffrey, to turn off the radio, and then I realized, he wasn’t in bed. I quickly threw, my robe and slippers on and went to answer, the door. It was the Antique Barn delivery guys.

“Oh, crap,” I said “I must have slept through the alarm, this morning, and Jeffrey left, without waking me up. What a night.”

The delivery, boys, explained, “We had a cancellation, this morning, and we’d like to know if you wouldn’t mind if we deliver your order early?”

“Go ahead, I said, since you already, got me out of bed and You’re standing in my doorway.” Who was I kidding, I thought, I was thrilled, to have my furniture, arriving early!

They brought everything in and placed it where I’d directed. I even bribed them, to hang the chandelier, for me. It was ten-thirty, in the morning. I showered, cleaned up the house, a bit, and took a few minutes to look around. I needed curtains, blinds and knick-knacks, but other than that, the house, was looking good. It was actually, starting to look like a home. I still had plenty of rooms to decorate, I thought, Yay!

I drove to Clintonville, and stopped at the Library, to check in with Mrs. Fitzberg. The door was still locked. Could she be, late, I wondered. I used my key to enter, and found, nothing had been touched, since the break in. I wasn’t sure, where, Mrs. Fitzberg, was, but I still didn’t want to touch anything, until she’d had a chance to look around. I decided to drive to Wausau, to check out the furniture stores. I could speak to Mrs. Fitzberg, later on this afternoon, when I got back.

“Oh yeah!” Wausau, was a large, city, with all types of stores. I drove up and read, signs, on windows, and saw a huge furniture store, called, ‘Sophies Warehouse’ which I knew would be a good place to find some pleasing furniture. I picked out several furniture options and spoke to the owner, about, delivery dates. I chose, Wednesday, and paid, my fifty-dollar, delivery fee.

Feeling like I’d accomplished, a lot, I drove back to Clintonville. I went straight to the Library, to share my day, with Mrs. Fitzberg. The door was still locked, and there was no evidence, that, she’d been there. I got back in my car, and headed to the Sheriff’s office.

I noticed that same, strange, little women, “the Watcher” in the corner of my eye, staring at me from a building, called ‘The Coin-Op, Laundro-Mat. The stranger was wearing, a bright red blouse and jeans. I crossed over and parked, in the ally; got out of my Beamer, stepped up onto the sidewalk and slithered, close to the building, so as not to be detected. I approached the laundry facility, door, quietly, so, that “the Watcher” had no way of escaping, this inevitable, not-perchance, encounter.

“My name is, Susan Sawyer, and I’ve seen you around, town, several times. I’m new in town, and don’t know very many, people yet. I wondered, if you might sit and talk with me a spell, since I was terribly lonely?”

She looked at me, with those, large, lonely, eyes and nodded, with what seemed, to me as bewilderment.

“My name is, Rebecca DuPont, and I’m unquestionably happy to meet you,” she said. “I too, am new to this area, and I haven’t met anyone in this town, that was happy to meet me.”

“I saw you on the street, a couple of times, but was too embarrassed to interrupt you, while taking care of, your own business. I saw you go into the Sheriffs office many times, and thought, maybe you worked for him,” she exclaimed.

“Yes, I said, I’m sorry. I’ve been consumed with investigating, some missing children, reports and have had very little time for communicating with my neighbors. There were many families, in Clintonville, whose children had been abducted and I would love to get to the bottom of it.”

“My sister, Jessica Tilly, has a child and no one, in Clintonville, will give me any significant information, or even the time of day!” said, Rebecca.

“I have been doing a little investigating, on Mrs. Tilly myself. If you have any questions or any information, you might like to share, I’d be glad to help, in any way, I can,” I said.

“Thank you. My sister wrote me horrible letters saying, that her husband, would get inebriated, and come home and beat her to a pulp. She said she was afraid for her little girl. She wrote me almost every week, and then, all of a sudden nothing. No letters, no calls, nothing.” Then she was quiet, for a few seconds…

She continued, after wiping her tears. “I’m not sure, what happened to her, or where she is now, so, I came out here to find her and take her back to Texas with me. I haven’t had any luck searching. I was afraid to make waves because, I didn’t want to get her in trouble, with her husband,” she said.

“I wondered, where your accent, came from,” I said.

She lowered her head, and I said, “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s adorable.”

She said, “Thank you,” with a big smile.

I wasn’t sure that telling her the story, sheriff Johnny told me was the right thing to do, at this particular juncture; but I also knew, she needed answers. I began by telling her some small details and she asked many questions.

When I had finished, telling her my truth, she started to cry again. “I wondered, why, I hadn’t found any sign of my sister,” she said. “Jessica’s house was empty and run down, and no one, as far as I could tell, has lived there for some time.”

“Could the two of us, take a ride, out to your sisters’ old house?” I asked.

She nodded, Yes.

We got into the Beamer, drove to the end of town, over the bridge, and turned off, onto an unmarked, dirt road. We drove quite far, and finally, came to a small, wooden house, that seriously needed a paint job. When we approached the door, I noticed it was ajar.

“Rebecca, I said, if I remember, anything, about my law studies, I remember that it isn’t breaking and entering, if the door is open.”

The house smelled of mildew and the floors, were rotten. The walls in the living room area, were slashed and vandalized, with graffiti. There was an old torn, up sofa and chair, with, the seat, half rotted away, sitting in the middle of the room.

The kitchen, looked as if it had been used recently, there were pots on the stove, with a green, hairy substance, and a spatula on the counter, with maybe, three day old food stuck to it. The master bedroom, if you could call it that, had a crib with toys, and children's clothes lying in disarray.

I couldn’t stand the smell. “Rebecca, I whispered, I need to go outside and get some, fresh air.”

She looked at me with a scrunched-up face and said, “I’m right behind ya.”

We both, gasped for air, when we reached the outdoors. I couldn’t remember seeing any bums, in Clintonville, so, I said to Rebecca, “Who could possibly have been staying in Jessica’s house?”

She said, “Since the last time I was here, things have been, moved around, or changed.”

“Could you be more, specific? I asked”

“Well, the kitchen pots and pans, were different and the toys in the baby’s room, had been played with or moved around,” she said.

“We need to inform, Sheriff Johnny, of these goings on,” I stated.

Rebecca’s eyes, widened and she held her breath. She said, “Oh, no, I can’t do that!”

“Why not?” I queried?

“The Sheriff was rude to me the last time I spoke with him. He said, I shouldn’t be butting in when, this was, his investigation, and that I would be better off, going back to Texas, where I belong, so I didn’t get hurt,” said Rebecca.

“That doesn’t sound like the Sheriff, I know,” I said. “Maybe you misinterpreted what he meant.”

“Well, I have been, annoying the Sheriff, Rebecca, admitted. Every day, I go over there and ask questions, and when he didn’t have any new answers, he would get irritated with me, being there.”

“I’ll, go to the Sheriff, on my own, without mentioning your name, at all, and I’ll get back to you, if I discover anything important,” I said.

We rode back to town, and I let her off at the Laundro-Mat. She said with a smile, “Thank you, for getting involved. Please, don’t say anything, to the Sheriff, about me,” she pleaded.

Peculiar, behavior, I thought, to myself.

I said,” I won’t breath a word of this to anyone, even if they threaten to, pull out my fingernails.”

She looked at me with apprehension, and then, started laughing, so hard, that, it made me laugh. As she walked into the Laundro-Mat, Rebecca, waved, a timid, goodbye, and said, “Be careful.”

I yelled, out to her, “How will I find you again?”

She said, “I’m staying at the Lazy 8 Motel, down Route sixteen, in room one-one-five.”

I shouted, “Goodbye,” and off I drove.

literature
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About the Creator

Suzy Bohi

Suzy Bohi, has two published books. 'Hush Little Babies' and 'The Terror Zone' Watch for her 2nd installment to 'The Terror Zone', titled 'Don't Say a Word'.

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