The fire crackled as soft waves of glowing light and radiant heat emanated from the fire warming Pacifica's face and the front of her body. The cool breeze on her back felt refreshing as the trees rustled softly in the dark, their shadows long and imposing as they cast the campsite in shadows.
One of the embers popped loudly as sparks flew from the fire accompanied by an ensemble of cracking sounds. Wendy sat up properly in her chair before leaning in closer to the group. The light flickered and cast shadows on her face as she prepared to speak.
Wendy cleared her throat dramatically. "There are some nights...much like tonight...when you can feel a chill breath in the air. It clings to the bone like a presentiment to the mind. It whispers from the shadows unseen, rather discerned."
Wendy closed her eyes and shifted in her chair before she continued, Pacifica noted that Wendy had really thrown herself into the role of storytelling this time with an emphasis on chilling ambiance. Pacifica withdrew into her jacket pulling it closer around her. The twins meanwhile looked piqued with excitement, their brown eyes glowing with the same family resemblance.
Wendy's green eyes snapped open full of exacting purpose. Her sharp eyeliner only added to the emphasis. She started to tell her tale.
>=^=^=^= The Tunnel =^=^=^=<
"The moonlight always seemed dull and lurid in the pale wispy fog that crept upon the grounds as the night fell. It seemed to muffle the sounds of the highway and even the woods as Tyrus and his sister Chloe made their way down the dirt road path heading home for the night. Chloe was seven while Cyrus was eleven. Chloe pipped up, 'Why do we have to take this way home Cyrus?' Cyrus gritted his teeth gathering himself before he answered calmly. 'You know why.'
Chloe trudged on quietly for a few minutes. She bit her lip as she turned to face Cyrus again, 'Can't we go around it tonight?' Cyrus hung his head and sighed. 'You know full well that the land on either side of the tracks is farmer Evan's field and we are not trespassers are we, Chloe?' Chloe grudgingly sighed, 'No.'
Chloe walked in silence for a few more minutes. Cyrus muttered, 'I told you there's nothing to fear. Kids just made up stories over the years to scare little children. You really should be getting old enough to know when others are lying.'
Chloe bit her lip in trepidation, 'It's just...Cyrus...I can feel something when I walk through there...even before I had heard about the stories from school. That tunnel always gave me the willies.' Cyrus sighed openly, 'We have been through that tunnel hundreds of times and I never felt a thing. Perhaps you just imagined it.' Chloe frowned as she looked forward pensively, 'Don't patronize me. I know what I felt Cyrus.' Cyrus put up his hands placatingly, 'I didn't mean to mock you. I just don't want you letting the kids from school work you up needlessly.'
As the siblings rounded the corner Chloe saw the gaping maw of the brick tunnel that led under the double-wide railroad tracks. It was a thirty-foot-long brick tunnel with no lights and a smooth worn cobblestone floor. The bridge had stood for over a century. The story in school was that a woman named Clara had died down there. The story went that she had been the hard-working daughter of a farmer. She had married a young man named Amos out of obligation to an arranged marriage.
The man she married was a hard worker and a farmer as well and was the reason her father had taken a liking to him. Her father however was a good man and had always made sure she was taken care of. Thus he made sure Amos was a good husband for his daughter. Though once her father had his accident with the thresher he was never the same after that. He could barely walk let alone work. Fortunately, her three younger brothers had grown into hard-working young men who could tend the farm in their father's stead proudly.
As such the young woman was left alone with her husband as they lived over a mile away. Clara took solace in the fact that she bore a daughter. She was her hope and her shining light in a world of loneliness. Thus she named her Helen. Her husband was disappointed having wanted sons to tend the farm, but no more children were born of her. Amos had always seemed distant, but after the birth of Helen, he grew resentful. He stayed out later and later came home progressively more drunk each night.
They began to fight. Mostly over Helen. Amos began to make a regular habit of beating his wife, and Clara began to dread the end of every day. Chloe learned the story was vague on the details at the end but everyone seemed to agree that it had ended in a fight. Some said Amos came home drunk in a rage and that was how the fight got out of control. Others said he struck Helen to which Clara broke a bottle over his head. Both stories ended the same.
Clara fled with the child. The father caught up with them at the underpass in the tunnel. He threw his oil lantern at his wife and it burst upon the ground and burned her alive. Helen was two years old. She was too young to remember that night. He took the child home with him.
The child grew in beauty and stature over the years as the father continued to work the farm alone. He had told Clara's family she had left him, and her family believed him. Helen was now six years old. She was a very quiet child and very rarely spoke. She was a gentle child, albeit secluded. Her father still found it strange that she rarely talked. Sometimes he would even yell at her but she would just stare at him with eyes so piercing he could not meet her gaze. So he would send her to bed. She was studious and cleaned up after herself. She often asked him why mommy had left, and he lied to the child and told her he did not know why she left that night.
Amos was worried that she had no social interaction from time to time but his concern was fleeting. He was too busy to worry about it with a farm to manage. In the years to come school would solve that problem. She began to exhibit strange behaviors that worried him. At first, he just chalked it up to childhood imagination. He would find her alone in a room talking to the wall. She would spend time staring into her reflection in the water for hours at a time. Then one evening Amos could not find his daughter. He searched the entire house and the barn, loft, and silo, and couldn't find her.
He was growing worried when he saw his faithful Border Collie named Cooper with his paws against the well. He rushed to the well and looked down. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. As his eyes began to take in the detail he saw far below. The hoist line for the bucket was moving. His daughter was down there. Then he heard her soft voice. At first, he could not make out what she was saying as the muffled echoes distorted and bounced off the curving walls of the well. Then he strained harder to hear her. Why was she talking to herself at the bottom of the well? She could have drowned he thought furiously his anger burning just below the surface. 'Helen! Are you all right?' He shouted. After a moment's pause, he heard her soft answer. 'Yes, Daddy.' He sighed in relief. 'Get in the bucket and hold on tight. I will hoist you up. Do not let go!!! OK?" She replied delicately, 'Yes Father.' He pulled her up.
Helen was a small child and weighed very little so it was easy to hoist her up. As she neared the top he could see her eyes blinking back the bright light as she used her free hand to cover her eyes, the other holding the bucket hoist line. Amos scooped her out of the well bodily and scolded her. 'What's the matter with you? I told you never to go near the well without me! You know you could have drowned down there! What were you thinking?!?'
The child stared at him her eyes giving no quarter. They just stared at him blankly. He shifted uncomfortably. 'There will be no dinner tonight but a crust of bread and then you will go to bed early.' He had expected an argument, but she just stared at him, not even acknowledging him. He pointed inside with a firm finger. She broke eye contact and walked inside. Cooper followed her inside faithfully his tail wagging.
That night as he checked on her to make sure she had got into bed he stood in the doorway and asked, 'Why did you go down the well today Hellen?' She shrugged in a noncommital way. His frustration flared but he held his temper. 'Who were you talking to in the well?' Hellen smiled, 'Mommy of course.'
Amos shivered as all the hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end. He swallowed hard. 'Mommy's dead Hellen. You know that.' She just stared at him her eyes piercing and blue just like her mother's. He broke eye contact not able to meet her gaze. 'I don't want you near the well anymore. Tomorrow I need help with planting the turnips in the garden. We will be up with the dawn.' When he looked back up at her she continued to stare at him silently. Amos closed the door.
Early the next morning, far before sunrise Amos arose with a start. The house seemed too quiet. He searched the house. To his dismay he found Helen was missing. Taking an oil lantern he searched at the well first but he could see nothing in the dim moonlight and lanterns glow. He then whistled for Cooper. Cooper rushed out of the bushes to his master's side panting. Amos produced Hellen's doll from his pocket and let the Border Collie sniff the doll. Cooper faithfully led the way.
The dog continued sniffing out the way. Amos followed Cooper till they began to near the tracks. Amos's heart sank as he saw the tunnel up ahead. He had avoided this location and had not been back here since the night of the incident. He felt unnerved just being down here. He could see a silhouette in the tunnel of someone small. It must be Helen. He called out. 'Hellen! Is that you?'
No response was given. He started to feel nervous. He could hear a child whispering in the tunnel. It sounded like Hellen. As he neared the mouth of the tunnel he raised his lantern.'
At this point, Cyrus who had been telling the story now shook his sister Chloe's shoulders. She screamed, her voice reverberating off the tunnel walls. Cyrus doubled over laughing while Chloe beat him with her clenched fists. Cyrus just laughed. 'Cyrus you big jerk!!! I almost had a heart attack in fright.' She scowled at him.
Cyrus chuckled and said, 'I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.' Chloe's face then went somber. 'How do you think Amos died? The stories from school all say he died that night.' Cyrus stroked his chin pensively. 'No one knows for sure. Helen had walked home to the farm that night by herself. When her family visited the next day they found her alone. When her grandfather asked where Amos was she simply said, 'He found Mommy.' When they asked her what she meant by that she would just smile.
The family looked for Amos for two weeks. They couldn't find him till one morning they found him face down at the bottom of the well.' Choe's eyes grew wide as Cyrus continued. 'They say you can still hear the sounds of Helen's screams when you enter the tunnel.' Chloe pushed Cyrus now. 'You're just trying to scare me. You always try to scare me.' Cyrus shook his head, 'Not this time, I promise.' Cyrus and Chloe headed for the tunnel. Chloe grabbed her brother's hand practically crushing it in nervous apprehension.
As they were about halfway through the tunnel when the lantern flickered and blew out. Chloe and Cyrus heard a breeze while through the tunnel. As the wind whipped through the tunnel whistling Chloe and Cyrus both swore they heard the screams of a young woman. They ran all the way home.
As they collapsed on the porch Chloe and Cyrus's mother and father came out to sit on the veranda. 'We were wondering when you two would get home. Why are you out of breath?' Cyrus explained what had happened. Cyrus's father frowned. 'I told you once before never to go down into that tunnel!' His voice was controlled, but there was a sternness in his father's eyes he rarely witnessed. His mother was usually the one with the outspoken ire.
Cyrus's father looked out across the field his eyes looking far away. 'It's not just a tunnel. They indeed found the father had dropped the dog's leash down in the tunnel, but his shoes were down there too.'
Cyrus looked confused. 'So he walked all the way back to the farm and somehow fell down the well?' Cyrus's father shook his head. 'No...his feet would have born the markings of travel if he had walked barefoot back to the farm.'
Cyrus was now confused. 'Then how did he end up in the bottom of the well?!?' Cyrus's father turned to look at both children. 'That well feeds into an aquifer. It is believed that when the aquifer was at its highest it supplied water to a stream. That stream used to run under the bridge. The brick walls were paved over the inlets that feed into the river.'
Chloe now said, 'What are you saying, Dad?' Her father took a deep breath. 'The brick wall of the tunnel sealed off the entrance to the aquifer. The legend is that his body was taken by the spirit of vengeance back into the aquifer. His body floated up to the well.'
Cyrus stuttered, 'S-spirit of w-what?' Cyrus's father folded his arms across his chest. 'No one can say for sure, but it is believed his wife's spirit took its revenge on him.' Cyrus swallowed hard.
Chloe said, 'What about Hellen? What happened to her.' Chloe's mother smiled. 'Her grandfather and family took her in with loving arms and raised her after that. She grew up to be a scholar and had children of her own. Chloe smiled glad to know the poor girl was able to have a better life.
>=^=^=^= The End =^=^=^=<
Wendy now looked around the campfire seeing her captive audience still leaning in closely. Pacifica was sweating with nervous apprehension but tried to look like she was amused. She wasn't entirely sure she was pulling it off. Dipper and Mabel meanwhile looked excited.
Wendy continued with much fanfare her arms raised dramatically, "So whenever you hear the wind whistle through the trees it is said if you listen closely you can still hear her screams." Wendy cupped a hand to he ear as if listening for something. As if on cue a soft breeze picked up. The wind whistled through the trees. Everyone whipped around to look back into the woods. Pacifica held her breath.
Then a pair of hands grabbed Pacifica from behind and she screamed in fright. Her piercing scream echoed through the woods and reverberated back into the Septic Ridge RV Park. Mabel doubled over snorting with laughter. Pacifica shouted, "Not funny Mabel!!!" Mabel tried to wipe the tears out of her eyes from laughter. "I'm sorry Pacifica, I couldn't help myself." Wendy grinned at the three in amusement.
Grunkle Stan barreled out of the camper with a rifle in hand, with Grunkle Ford close behind, his laser pistol drawn and at the ready. Dipper waved two placating hands and said, "It's just Mabel scaring the blue blazes out of Pacifica." Mabel turned sheepishly and said, "Sorry!" Pacifica grumbled, "Not as sorry as you will be when I hide the coffee in the morning." Mabel stuck out her tongue at Pacifica. Dipper and Wendy laughed. Grunkle Stan was muttering something under his breath as he trudged back towards the tents near the camper holding his back with a groan.
Wendy yawned loudly and stretched her freckled pale lanky limbs while saying, "I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready for bed." Wendy headed for her camo tent she had set up earlier in less than two minutes. She had prepared everything in advance that afternoon. She was a camping expert after all Pacifica reflected. Pacifica insisted on taking a shower before she went to bed. The smoke from the fire had soiled her hair and skin once again she thought with a sigh. Mabel hugged Pacifica good night and then crashed on her sleeping bag snuggling down into it.
Pacifica let the water run over her soothingly as she lathered the shampoo into her hair. Afterward, she worked the conditioner into her hair running her fingers through her voluminous hair. Today had been...dare she say it? Fun? Maybe this was what having a family was like. She dried herself off and added some after-shower product to her hair working it in. As she meticulously brushed her hair she walked silently back to her sleeping bag. Dipper had set it out for her meticulously neat and strait next to Mabel's which she had thrown down in a disheveled ball in a moment of chaotic haste.
Pacifica sat on the sleeping bag and brushed her hair thinking about how she was grateful for everything she had been part of today. If it hadn't been for Dipper she wouldn't even be here. She stood up taking strides toward the bathroom. She hung her towel on a hook in the bathroom. She walked past Dipper and stopped. She looked down at him as he rested peacefully. Even asleep he looked handsome, his rugged features and stumbled chin adding to his kind and gentle face. His jawline was becoming more pronounced as had his broad shoulders. He now towered over over these days. Thinking about it made something tingle and flush inside her.
She smiled in amusement, she used to think he was an idiot...well ok maybe he still was in some ways, but in the ways that counted he was there for her to a capacity that no one ever had been. Pacifica buried her face in her hands groaning silently. Am I really falling for Captain dork-ville himself she mused? Pacifica sighed to herself softly, "You really know how to pick em' girl," she said to herself under her breath.
She tucked her feet into her sleeping bag reveling in the soft silky feel of the fabric as she settled into it. She lay her head down on her pillow as she relaxed. She looked over at Dipper seeing his chocolate brown wavy hair half obscuring his face. "Good night Dipper," she whispered before closing her eyes.