Small Town Grievances 18: Lord let us shake the influence of the horrible ghost
Small Town Grievances 18: Lord let us shake the influence of the horrible ghost
Prolonged period of genuine mania after the staging of a dismal but well-received play at the big school depicting the local legend of Wooden Henry the vengeful ghost, an ancient resident of town. Citizens freaking out. As is the popular image, Wooden Henry was portrayed as a big upright wooden coffin with feet sticking out bottom, a little glass window in the front from which he can leer at his victims and remind them of their sins. Despite assurances of the story’s fictive nature, productivity throughout area has come to a halt: fatiguing mandatory sessions of security council; collapse of already brittle alliances between town’s martial arts clubs; classes cancelled at both little and big schools as children sleep all day in their parents’ beds, catatonic with terror. Garbage men fear leaving their trucks and being exposed to Wooden Henry; they pour gasoline on the trashcans as they speed past in the dark of early morning. The usually graceful town hall fountain, uncleaned for days, is ugly with mosquito eggs.
A town meeting was called to assuage fears but Mayor’s notable anxiety (he was wearing a bullet-proof vest) quickly derailed proceedings and opened the floor to panic. Lorraine F. said Wooden Henry hates modern popular music and can be banished with any foul smelling household chemical. He will not open a freshly painted door. He is drawn to unflushed toilets and food left out longer than an hour. He lives in un-rewinded VHS tapes. He is a friend of all unmarried women and conjures ill heart health in men over fifty. Terrance M. claimed that Wooden Henry’s dark influence was likely to blame for his pets' constant tapeworm and the failure of his pathetic wedding photography business. Afterwards, we saw Mayor sprint from the building to his waiting car, crouched low like he was ducking the spinning blades of a helicopter.
The panic has led to great solitude on the streets night and day. On Main St the warm wind goes unnoticed. Some businesses continue to stay open: Beef Month continues at the newly refurbished Heavenly Beef Emperor, with special menu items and door prizes through to July. The public pool is deserted but accessible; the gates were left unlocked when owners Geoff and Mary O. fled for their lives. I was hoping to swim some laps but got the deep jitters when, standing alone in the silence, I heard a commotion come from the equipment room. It was just one of the town’s sick deer, bloody-mouthed from eating those bad mushrooms that make them go crazy. It had simply wandered in to chew on a rubber pool noodle. But for a moment I thought it could have been him. Forgive me. Forgive me for the fear in my heart when I felt Wooden Henry close.
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More of this mess at jackvening.net