Hauntings (22 page)

              “You don't have to pay me. It's the least I could do after the dinner and the wine and everything,” Clara protested, but Oswald would have none of it.

              “Here you go,” He said handing her a twenty dollar bill. “The celebration, wouldn't have been any fun without you, besides it's not often an old fart like me can take a pretty young woman such as yourself out for dinner,” He said with a wink. She took the twenty and slipped it into her pocket.

              “Well I' see you around,” she said, sliding into the driver's seat of her mustang.

              In a moment the engine roared to life and her headlights brightened the exterior of the  cabin. Oswald thought he had better take advantage of the light before she turned the car around and her hurried to the front door carrying his packages. Once inside he put his gas on the floor and it a match, to provide enough light to get his bearings. He knew there were a couple candles near the kitchen sink he took a step in that direction and the match went out burning his finger in the process. He lit a second match, found a candle lit it and held it before him like a torch casting the dim light as far as it would go.  Just then he remembered the trapdoor was still propped open. He peered into the darkness and could barely see a black square opening in the floor by the light of the candle. Oswald carefully avoided that section of floor as he followed the candle light to the kerosene lantern on the desk. Once he lit that and trimmed the wick he was satisfied with the light for the time being, but to be safe he let the trapdoor slam shut.             

              Oswald checked the fireplace for any sign of life left in the firebox, but the fire he started earlier that day had long ago burned out. He carried the lantern to the kitchen table left it there and went out to get some more of the wood he had split earlier. He was not going to be a cold night in the cabin tonight if he could help it. He carried the firewood to the fireplace, set it in place and set the fire. He was becoming quite adept at coaxing the logs into flame. He relaxed sitting across from the fireplace and watching the flames dance in the fire. Soon he fell fast asleep.

Chapter Eight

              Oswald awoke with a dry filmy feel to his mouth. He went to the kitchen looked into the now warm icebox to look for something to drink. The aroma of food going bad rose to his nostrils.

              “I have got to remember to buy some more dry ice,” He said aloud. Oswald slammed the ice box shut to block out the smell. And went to the sink to pump some water into a glass. He swished the water around in his mouth then spit it into the sink. He remembered his new toys. The camera and laptop, he gathered up his purchases and opened the bag. He fumbled for a moment with the packaging for the camera. Finally deciding to cut the hard plastic with a knife to get to the soft cardboard inside containing the camera. After opening the box he pulled out the camera, the instructions, batteries and a CD to install the camera software on the computer.

              He took it all to the kitchen table put it down and started a fresh pot of coffee. He read the instruction manual while he waited for the coffee to brew. The camera seemed easy enough to operate. He loaded the batteries and watched the camera light up. He set it to auto, pointed it out the window, looked through the view finder, waited for the camera to signal it was ready with a green light then finally pressed the button, snapping his first photograph. He looked down on the screen and admired the picture. It was a clear view of the woods outside the kitchen window.

              “This will do,” He said turning the camera off before putting it back on the table.

              Oswald looked around the room, opening and closing drawers searching for something to use for trash. He found a bag and then emptied the spoiled food from the ice box into the bag trying not to gag at the stench. Last he carried the trash out.  Not sure where to put it he tossed it all into the fire pit, poured some kerosene over it and set it on fire.
Better to burn it than have it attract who knows what to the cabin
, he thought. He was hungry, but more than that he was eager to go to the site and take some photographs of the altar and the standing stones.  He hurried inside, threw on his jacket, grabbed the camera, and rushed out the door. Remembering his plan to clear the path he thought of buying a machete the next time he went into town.

              It was a clear day with a crisp breeze blowing the fallen leaves about the ground when Oswald began his walk to the clearing. He carried his new camera with him, along with a notebook and pen. Eager to get to work on his find the walk seemed to drag on for hours before he was greeted with the altar bathed in golden sunlight when he arrived at the site.

              He began his work by taking his camera and  photographing the altar from every side, and every angle. He then walked out of the clearing and into the woods to get a shot of the clearing from its edge. Last he knelt down and photographed the first standing stone. It was no more than a foot tall, no real comparison to Stonehenge in size, but he was sure the little stones had similar significance. He then photographed each of the remaining standing stones before taking a tape measure from his jacket pocket and measuring the distance between one standing stone and the next.

              He measured the distance between each stone one from the other and recorded the results in his journal. As he expected not a a fraction of an inched difference between the stones. He laid the tape measure out between two stones locked it in place and photographed this too, to illustrate the distance and the relative size of the stones. Satisfied with his work for the day, he decided to pack it in, go into town, get something to eat, and replenish his supplies.

              Walking back to the cabin he remembered the jerry can filled with gas in the back of his car. He will need to fill the generators tank before he uses his new laptop to write his initial report. Once at the cabin, he went to his car to get the can and carry it to the kitchen. He climbed down the ladder into the root cellar and filled the generator's gas tank. He was not about to waste the power this time, he would leave the generator off until he returned home from town.

              Oswald left the jerry can in the cellar, and carefully lowered the trap door to the floor. He left the cabin and drove to Dixon to replenish his supplies. In town Oswald spent as little time shopping at Olivers as he could. He didn't feel like being social with some the natives just now. At least not the merchant's, except perhaps Ed and Freida. He felt he owed them an explanation regarding Clara spending so much time at the cabin. He loaded the back of his car with his groceries, then walked across the street to Sam & Ella's. The sign in the door read OPEN. He pushed the door open and walked inside.

              “I'll have one of those famous steamed burgers of yours, if you don't mind.” He yelled into the kitchen as he sat at one of the stools at the counter.

              “Well look what the cat dragged in,” Freida said, coming out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. “I suppose you want a cup of our legendary coffee while you wait on that burger?”  Without waiting for his reply she took with the grace earned from years of practice Freida a cup from the stack of cups with one hand and the hot coffee carafe with the other and poured Oswald a cup of coffee. Freida looked to be in much better spirits than she was the last time Oswald saw her.

              “So have you seen Clara, since we last talked? Oswald asked then took a sip of his coffee. “Hmm, that is delicious coffee.”

              “Clara came back and and told us how she helped you out getting into town and buying a bunch of things to help you with your work. She said you're some sort of archaeologist or something.”

              “Well, not exactly, but our fields do overlap from time to time. Did she tell you about my discovery?”

              “Yep, the altar. Cold shivers ran up my spine when she  talked about that. In fact I couldn't sleep sound all night, I kept having nightmares about that damn altar and the Dyers and the old days. I'd fall asleep, then the nightmare would wake me up, then when I could finally fall asleep again the same thing would happen all over again. It was like that all night long. I think it was just as bad for Ed, he slept through the night as far as I could tell, but he kept tossing and turning and mumbling something in his sleep. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but let me tell you, it didn't help my sleep at all last night.”

              “I'm sorry you had such a rough night. You don't look any the worse for wear though.”

              “Ah, the wonders of modern makeup. I'll bring your burger to you as soon as it is up.”

              “I'd appreciate that.” Oswald glanced about the place, he was the only customer,
must be before the lunch rush
he thought. He took the camera from his pocket, looked at the back and lightly tapped the review button with his finger. This allowed him to look at all the photographs he had taken so far today. He was anxious to load them into his computer and seeing what he could do to enlarge and clarify the images. He wondered if there was anything he missed in person that he could pick up from the computer enhanced images.  He took another sip of his coffee and glanced again around  the room. He saw an old fashioned pay phone mounted on the wall between the rest rooms.

              “Hey Freida, does that pay phone still work?” he yelled into the kitchen.

              “If it didn't work, we wouldn't keep it around,” Came her reply. Oswald dug in his pocket for some change. He had maybe a buck and a half in loose change. He didn't think that would be enough for any length of a call to Leicester, but it might be enough tell let Doctor Dyer know about his discovery.

Oswald walked over to the pay telephone dropped a quarter in the slot. He got a dial tone and then dialed the Leicester's main number. An automated voice came on line and asked for more change. Oswald dumped his remaining coins into the phone.  It rang on the other end.

              “Leicester University, How can I direct your call?”

              “ I'd like to speak with doctor Dyer please.”

              “One moment while I ring that number.” Oswald listened as the phone in Dyer's office rang. On the third ring Dyer picked up.

              “Aleister Dyer speaking.”

              “Doctor Dyer, it's me Oswald Hubbard.”

                “Oh yes, Oswald, how's it going at the cabin?”

              “Great!”

              “I'm glad to hear that. Does this mean you will be coming back to the university soon?”

              “I'll be coming back to the university, but I don't know how soon it will be. You see, I've made a discover out here.”

              “A discovery, What's out there to discover, it's all just farmland.”

              “I found an altar, Aleister. A hand carved stone altar, sitting in the middle of a cleared circle surrounded by short standing stones. It looks like the natives took part in human sacrifice at some time in the past. I'll be sending a report in to the regents, they may want to organize an archaeological team to investigate further. What's more it all looks like there was Druidic influence in the area.” Oswald's excitement carried over the telephone with his voice.

              “Are you sure of what you found?”

              “As sure as I can be at this point.” The automated operator came on line and advised Oswald to put more coins in the coin slot. “Doctor Dyer, I'm out of change. I've got to go now, but I will send you a copy of the report as soon as it is finished. Goodbye for now,” Oswald hung up the phone and went back to his seat at the counter.

              His steamed burger was waiting for him and his cup had been refilled with fresh coffee. He was almost too excited to eat, but the aroma of the burger was too much of a temptation. Oswald put the tomato, lettuce, and pickles that were placed on the side sort of as a garnish, on his burger, shook a little ketchup on top and little more on his French fires, and then took a big bite of the burger. The steamed burger was everything he remembered it to be.

              “Freida, you and Ed could sell franchises for this place selling just this burger. It is so good, better than anything I can get in Leicester. I'd change the name of the place though. Sam & Ella's' might give the wrong impression to some folks.”

              “Ed and I wouldn't know how to begin such a thing,  and it just wouldn't be the same with another name. It was Sam & Ella's when we bought it and Sam & Ella's it will stay, but thanks all the same.” Freida poured a little more coffee into Oswald's cup to warm it up.

              Aleister Dyer paced back and forth in his office. Something troubled him. Once he had made a decision on a plan of action he stopped pacing and went to his desk. Aliester pulled his personal directory from a drawer flipped through the pages searching for something. Finding what he wanted he reached for the telephone on his desk and dialed. The phone on the other end of the line rang.

              “Hello” a feminine voice greeted Aleister Dyer over the phone.

              “Clara?”

              “Speaking.”

              “Clara, is it true? Did Hubbard discover the altar?”

              “According to him it is the discovery of a lifetime. He plans on writing reports and encouraging further research into the area.”

              “I see, Keep me apprised of the situation over there. We can't let this get out of hand,”  Aleister Dyer said firmly then hung up the phone. He stepped out of his inner office and spoke briefly with his secretary.

              “Cancel everything on my schedule for the next two weeks, and see if you can get me a on a flight to Rockford Illinois. I'll need a rental car when I get there, something rugged. Can you arrange that for me?”

              “I'll have the arrangements set as soon as possible.” She  replied calmly while dialing her phone, attempting to follow his directions.

              “Good, I'll be out of the office the rest of the day,” Aleister Dyer said taking his overcoat from the coat rack near the door on his way out of the office left the office.

              Oswald consumed his burger with relish, thoroughly enjoying every juicy bite.  He dipped his last French fry in the little puddle of ketchup he had poured onto the side of his plate, mopping up the last of it before popping it into his mouth.

              “If Clara comes in, tell her I said hi,” Oswald said as he left a tip on the counter and then paid Freida for his meal. He Left the restaurant. Oswald crossed the street to where he had parked his car, climbed into his Volvo wagon and drove back to the cabin. Once there he went straight to the root cellar, climbed down the ladder into the dank hole in the floor and started the generator. He climbed back up the ladder, let the trapdoor drop with a bang, then looked for and found an outlet near the desk for the power adapter for his new laptop.

              Before starting on his report he stoked the fire in the fire place adding a couple pieces split wood, and using the poker to stir the ashes into flame. Satisfied with the fire, Oswald turned to the work at hand. He opened the laptop and focused his attention on organizing his notes into an outline for the final report he would send to the regents at Leicester University. Oswald hadn't felt this much excitement regarding his studies since his years at graduate school. He wrote for an hour or two, then gave in to temptation. He told himself he was going to work on clearing the path to the altar, but why then did he drop the Druid's book into his coat pocket?