Scary & Freaky stories: The Paranormal World

You Can't Keep Up

He had seen her twice before she called out to him. He walked up to her porch and took a seat by this lively country lass.

“What’s your name?” she asked as he stretched out his legs.

“Frank, Frank Gorin. I moved here just a few weeks ago.”

“I’m Carol Haislip. I seen you a walking down through the road there.”

Frank almost laughed at her slurred words and grammar. She was charming to look at… to be with. He took her to be in her twenties; but she didn’t seem to be very mature. Oddly, he liked that about her.

“I need to take walks,” he said. “It helps me get the layout of the town. I moved from a bigger city. Had to change jobs, ways, a life.”

He was beginning to like this town. His new job was tolerable. The slower pace was getting hold. Somewhere in the distance he heard some kids playing – a sound that he had almost forgotten. He wondered if this Alabama town was typical of other southern communites.

“You like walkin’?”

“Sure. There’s not much else to do here.”

“You like runnin’?” he eyes brightened as she sat up a bit.

“Pretty much,” he said almost laughing again. “I was on the track team in high school. Boy, that seems like such a long time ago.”

“I love to run,” she said sitting back. “I run most every day. I was always the fastest one in my school. I bet you couldn’t keep up with me.”

Again, he was almost startled. She sounded like an eight year old.

“Oh, I imagine I could,” he argued nudging her slightly.

“I’ll take you around the block, right now.”

“Here? Wouldn’t we look kind of silly?”

She giggled. “Folks around here just expect to see me runnin’. It won’t matter a bit. They know me.

“Maybe some other time,” he said.

He felt her relax next to him. He felt strange; but he was enjoying this. The dusk had begun to creep in; and there was a slight August wind whispering through the street.

“There’s this lake, Peterson’s lake that’s a beautiful place. We could go there,” she said softly.

“That sounds fine,” he agreed. “What do you say, you show me the lake this weekend.”

“OK,” she said.

So he had a date. When he knocked on her door that fine Saturday morning, she appeared in a long skirt, obviously worn a long time. It was sad how these people lived, he thought. But, also, there was an alluring charm about it as well. He drove her to a beautiful lake beside several green hills.

After they ate, they were sitting in the shade of a big oak. The talk was scattered and unimportant. This was a new experience for him.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, “Why don’t we race?”

“We just ate,” he protested.

“So,” She stood up, looking around like an excited school girl. “I race ya to that tree over there.”

He laughed, starting to get up. “What is it about you and racing?”

She was off. He took off after her; but to his amazement, was unable to gain on her. Her legs ran with precision as she flung the long dress wildly. He turned on the speed, determined to catch her; but he gave out. A stab of pain in his side reminded him that he hadn’t run for a long time. She stopped and looked back.