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Hush Little Babies

New town, new people, new fears

By Suzy BohiPublished 4 years ago 11 min read
2
Be wary, the dangers of the back woods...

Chapter Five

I stepped outside. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining bright, and I couldn’t remember ever seeing a clearer sky. I mean, no smog at all. It was fresh and brusque. It was approximately fifty-five degrees. I don’t think it was ever this pleasant in New York. “Oh, somebody, help me, quick,” I said. “I do miss, New York, but mostly because, of my friends and my office.” Looking for sustenance, I noticed tiny, little, shops up and down the ally’s, that were not visible, from the main through-way, if you were traveling by car. I looked down one of the ally’s and spied a bar call ‘TJ’s’ Bar and Grill. I was thirsty, so, I stepped into the bar to get a Squirt and saw Sheriff, Johnny leaning on a bar stool, sipping on suds.

“Are you following, me?” he asked, and then, he roared with laughter. “Sit down, Missy, and I’ll buy you a brewski.”

“I’m not use to drinking, this early in the day,” I answered. “If it’s all the same to you, I’ll take another rain check. Ya, know, on second thought, a can of squirt, would be appreciated.”

“Susan, the sheriff said, meet Sam, Clintonville’s friendliest bartender.”

“Sam, this is Susan. Her and her husband, just purchased, Old Jakes Place,” said the Sheriff.

“How do you do, Sam?” I asked.

Sam, the bartender, was in his mid-fifties, dressed like a teenager and had several tattoos on his arms and legs, with an earring in his eyebrow. Except for the tats, the earring and his weird clothing, he was tolerable enough. He handed me a menu, served me, my squirt and announced, “It was on the house, being as, we were neighbors.”

I asked Sam, “Why is the bar, named, ‘TJ’s?

“I inherited, the bar from my father, Terrance Jenson,” he replied.

Since there were only three items, on the menu, I ordered, a juicy hamburger and fries.” I didn’t feel like having chicken fingers or fresh Perch. I didn’t care to find our how fresh the Perch really was!

“Sam, said, “I inherited the house on, Round Lake, from my father, as well. My wife Sara and I have lived on Round Lake for six years.” Tears, came to his eyes and he could hardly speak.

I wanted to ask more questions, I was very, interested at this point, but I could see it was quite, painful, for him, so, I skirted around the subject. It would be for another day.

Sheriff Johnny, said, “goodbye,” and stumbled out of the bar, heading back towards, his office.

“The Sheriff, comes into my bar often, but never seems to have any new information on my little girl. He insists, he’s still on the case though,” said Sam.”

“Where do the Shields, live?” I asked.

“They live three houses, to the South, of the house you and Jeffrey, purchased. Their, little boy, came up missing, same time as my Delores.”

I finished my hamburger and fries. “Thank you, Sam, for your hospitality.” I left him a tip, and said, “I’m on my way, back to the, Sheriffs office. I’m going to have a little get together at my house, so, I can meet my new neighbors and I’d love for you and your wife to come.” I wrote down, my telephone number and address on a napkin, and handed it to him.

Sam, thanked me, and said, “he’d talk to Sara and let me know.”

I wasn’t sure if the Sheriff was going to let me, back in his secretary’s office, but I had to try. Now, I was really worked up about the Clintonville, disappearances. I knew I had to satisfy my craving, for curiosity. How would I feel, I thought, if my child had disappeared and there was no help in sight? Of course, It would be devastating.

When I got back to the Sheriff’s office, he was again, asleep in his big old chair. I didn’t wake him this time; I just went into the small, office and started, rustling, through papers and books.

I had been sifting through, dust and mess, for about two hours, when Sheriff Johnny, walked into his secretaries’ office and shouted, “What the heck do you think you’re doing?”

“You were asleep, when I entered the department, I replied, so, I tried not to disturb you. I hadn’t found any information, on the missing children, before lunch, so I thought, I’d give it another try.”

The Sheriff nodded and said, “Yes, yes, I see. Well maybe you could finish up then, I’m not used to people messing up my office.”

I told him, “I will only be a little while longer,” and he left the room, to answer the phone. “Saved by the bell,” I murmured.

I was in the middle of looking through more papers when an earsplitting, scream, came from the Sheriffs’ office. I believe he was overwhelmed, with yet another missing child, only this time, he was sorely upset.

I walked into his office and asked if he was okay.

He exclaimed, “Cripes, sakes, almighty, are you still here?” He didn’t wait for me to answer, he simply replied, “Another, child has disappeared, and this time, it’s my granddaughter, Sherry Granger. I’m fit to be tied,” he yelled.

“Is there anything, I can do, to help?” I asked.

“Only, if you’re a psychic,” he replied, throwing himself into his old chair and sulking.

“I said, “Of course, I am not.” I still had some searching to do, so I returned to his secretary’s office.

I knew the facts on the missing children, had to be somewhere, and I felt I didn’t have much, more time before Sheriff Johnny, kicked me out. I decided to look in the filing cabinet under children’s last names. The first name, I looked up was Delores Jenson. “Bingo,” I exclaimed. Her file, was right where it was supposed to be. Who’d a thunk it?” Next, I looked for Avery Shields file folder. It was there as well. I cursed myself, for being so ignorant. I’d have saved myself a lot of headache, if I would have just looked here to begin with. I didn’t want Sheriff, Johnny, to get any more irritable than he already, was, so I decided to check out the paperwork, at the library, tomorrow. I shoved the two children’s files under my sweater, “thanked the sheriff, for the squirt and pacification,” and told him to have a great day.

He looked like he was suffering, from an atrocious hangover.

Chapter Six

I slid into my Beamer, took the folders, out of my sweater and hid them underneath my seat. I drove around town realizing, I had missed several shops the first time through. I didn’t have time to visit, every one, but I vowed, I’d go through as many as I could, if just to find out more information on the missing children. Perhaps I could come up with some clues, all by myself. The second shop I stopped at, a quaint little shop was call ‘Missy’s Clothes Boutique.’ It was a one room store, with children’s clothes, hanging, in the middle of the shop and toys, baby walkers, and other child paraphernalia, piled in every corner. A young, woman, in her late twenties, with a sad sort of look about her, put down the book she was consumed with, greeted me with a sweet smile, and introduced herself as, “Mishelle,”

“Are you looking for anything specific?” she asked.

“My husband, Jeffrey and I have just recently moved here and I was doing a sort of check it out thing, here in Clintonville,” I said.

She looked at me with those, sad eyes, and pale, frail, body and said, “Pack your things and get out of town while, the getting is good.”

“Excuse me,” I said.

“This town is cursed. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard anything about the infamous, Clintonville, disappearances!” she said.

“I have heard some things, but could you enlighten me?”

“I was taking my little boy, Jeremy, for a walk on a Sunday, three years ago. I turned around for a second to observe an accident, on the corner, of town, near 5th and Debussy, and when I turned back to talk to my son, he was gone. I heard no noise, no screams, nothing. I called for him, I looked all over town. In a panic, I went to Sheriff Granger, to report my son was missing.” With tears in her eyes, she exclaimed, “I was a good mother; I just turned my head for a moment. I haven’t slept well or eaten very much, since that horrifying kidnapping occurred.”

“Mishelle, why do you consider your child’s disappearance a kidnapping?”

“What else could it be? My son was five, he knew better than to talk to strangers. He wouldn’t just walk away with a stranger. He just, wouldn’t have. He must have known the person. He was a good boy,” she insisted.

“What was your sons, last name?” I inquired.

She looked at me, with trepidation, “Why are you so interested, in my son?” she asked.

“I have been doing some investigating, of my own, and I feel compelled to reach out to the families, who have had children vanish.”

“Bless you,” she said. “His name is Jeremy Warner.”

I looked around the shop, for a few minutes, more, and then I informed Mishelle, “I’m throwing a little get together, at my new house and I would be honored, if you and your husband, were to join us.”

“Thank you,” she said, and promised she’d come.

I left my phone number and address, and stepped out the door.

I had just about all the investigating, I could stand for one day. I was getting into my Beamer, when I saw someone staring at me from across the street. She was about five-foot-three, with bobbed hair. She was dressed in a green, tweed skirt, with jacket to match, a white blouse and black low heels, with a bow. I waved at her nonchalantly, and she turned in the opposite direction. “Curious,” I mumbled, as I climbed into my car.

I finished driving through town, and over the little brown bridge, I’d become so fond of. The bridge was long with outdated character. It was made of iron and had crisscrosses up and down the sides. The roof, arched in the middle and was open all the way up. Actually, Clintonville, had plenty of character, now that I’d had time to peruse, my new surroundings.

I reached under my seat, and pulled out the children’s files and brought them into the house with me. I sat down, on one of the card table chairs, as I started to read about Delores Jenson. She was petite. Her chubby cheeks and curly blond hair, made her look like a little doll. She wore, glasses that gave the perception, she was intelligent. Most of what I already knew, was in the file. No, help as to clues, eyewitnesses or any other such assistance.

I proceeded to read about, Avery Shields. He was a handsome little guy. He had brown hair, cut in a buzz and beautiful green eyes. There wasn’t anything, in his file, to help either. The picture was taken at Easter time, possibly at a Walmart, or Penny’s portrait studio. He had a pair of shorts with suspenders on and a yellow shirt. He was sitting, on the Easter Bunny’s lap, showing off his, beautiful, dimpled, smile. I shoved the folders into one of my dresser drawers. I didn’t want Jeffrey, to go off about me delving into something that was none of my business.

The oven timer shut off and supper was perfect. Jeffrey, would be home shortly. I set the table and took a shower. While showering, I thought about, how I would decorate my new domicile. It was a great looking house. There was a large entryway, with a black slate floor and a huge bay window. From there, you could either walk into the living room, or the kitchen. The living room was gigantic. It had a fireplace made of stone, that went all the way to a 12-foot large, beamed, ceiling, and sliding glass doors that led to a screened in patio.

The kitchen, which was all tiled, with white walls, had purple hyacinth and irises throughout. The dining room, off the kitchen had darling little fences up around the ceiling, with hyacinth and irises throughout the fence. The floors were tiled in ecru, with lilac splashes.

There were, four bedrooms and a den, on the first floor, with three bathrooms, a bedroom and a studio, above the living room and a damp basement, which had a bathroom and a large laundry area.

I love decorating. I always feel like I’ve accomplished something. Jeffrey, was clueless when it came to using his decorating expertise. I always had to draw him pictures.

literature
2

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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