Happy Halloween! (A short creepy story)

-Josephine-

It’s hard to clean them out. I pulled out the thin file, tip curved under the nail thingy that’s on my fingernail clippers. You know the one. The part we all use to clean the gunk out from under our nails. I think it was originally designed to be used on the cuticle or something. But I don’t know anyone who uses it that way.

Jamming it underneath the jagged edge I realized I should probably get a manicure at some point. I pulled in a quick hiss of air as the point jabbed in too far probing into the tender flesh. Filled with nerve endings that are normally protected from the rest of the world by my dirty nail, it hurt like hell. Lucky for me I didn’t go deep enough to draw blood.

I must admit I looked pretty despicable. Three of the lights over the bathroom mirror had blown out last week, but I’m just too lazy to get around to replacing them. In the light of the one remaining bulb, the green tiles on the counter reflected a swampy hue from below up toward my chin. I gave myself a Frankenstein grin and went back to the task at hand. Or task at nail for that matter. Cleaning my nails is usually a helluva lot easier, but the nail clipper tool was getting stuck this time.

I could hear him in the dining room flipping through my new coffee table book. It was all pictures of beat up rusty pickup trucks and century old fading barns that haven’t seen a paintbrush in decades. You’d think it would be boring, but there was something familiar to the images. They were almost spiritual in a way.

“I’ll be out in just a minute Gregg.” I shouted through the oak of the bathroom door. “Sorry it’s taking me so long.”

“No problem.” He sounded closer to the stereo now. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but I have to talk with everyone in town. What is this music you got? I like it.”

I placed the clippers back on the middle shelf of the medicine cabinet in between a half empty tube of Aim and the new package of shaving razors I bought last week, then wiped my hands dry on the daisy covered towel next to the sink. “Something my nephew sent me. He keeps me up to date on all the hip new shit. I love this record!” He was holding a disc case and reading the back when I stepped out of the bathroom.

Holding up the case he said over his shoulder, “I’ve never heard of these guys. Nice stuff. I can always rely on you for good music.” He put the case back down on top of the stereo and walked over to the fireplace resting his left arm on the mantel.

“I can make you a copy if you like. That is if you won’t haul me away in cuffs for breaking the copyright law Sheriff!” We both chuckled a little at that one.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Gregg held his right index finger up to his mouth pretending to shush me.

“Can I get you some water or something?” I walked toward the kitchen and started to root around in the fridge. “I’d offer you coffee or soda but I was just about to go to the I.G.A. tonight.”

“Thanks, but no.” Gregg walked over to the window and pulled the blue drapes over so he could look outside, possibly canvassing the area or some other law man stuff. “I’ve got to attend to business anyway. Have to see the Molina’s and a few more houses before I head back to the station.”

“What do you need Gregg?” I walked back out of the kitchen to the living room having found nothing of interest in the refrigerator.

“I don’t know if you heard, but Josephine Field is missing.” His hands clenched and I could tell he was upset about it. Gregg was a great Sheriff. He made sure to spend a little time getting to know everyone here in Pastor. We all loved him too. He was like our favorite uncle. He and I had been friends since we played ball together in high school. I for one wasn’t surprised when he went into law enforcement. He always had that commanding air of control in every situation. Whether it was throwing that perfect strike back in little league with a three and two count to end the bottom of the ninth or breaking up a bar fight.

“What? Oh my God. Not another one.” I grabbed the back of the couch to keep myself from falling over. This was the fourth time in three years. “Wh…” I swallowed hard on the word, “I mean, when?”

“Yesterday morning. She never made it in to the coffee shop.” Gregg raised his head toward the ceiling but kept his eyes closed. “According to Marcia she left for work around 5:30 AM, but no one’s seen her since.” His voice remained steady and matter-of-fact through the entire description. But I knew him well enough to hear the tiny tremble when he pronounced his long vowels.

“Marcia?” I had no idea who that was.

“Marcia Grayden is her roommate.” He explained. “They’ve been living together a year or so.” He raised his eyebrows a little bit at that. Then he whispered under his breath, “Pretty girls like that ought to have boyfriends if you ask me.” I don’t think he really meant for me to hear it.

All the guys in town had taken a shot at Josephine at some point. Her tip jar was always full with the hopes and fantasies of the single and married alike. She had genuine warmth to her personality that made everyone around her feel good about themselves. Not exactly flirtatious, but not exactly not flirtatious either. I always thought that those yellow brown eyes of hers could tame any lion.

“What can I do to help?” I went to get my fur lined denim jacket off the back of the table chair. “Do you want me to help put together a search party or something?”

“No.” Hands raised he walked towards me. “Hopefully we’ll find her before it comes to that. I just need you to keep an eye out for me again ok?” He sagged and I could see the weight bullying deep into his shoulders. “We’ve got to find her.”

“Sure Gregg.” I reached out and squeezed his arm gently. “I’ll do anything I can to help. You know that.”

Grabbing the hat off his head he wiped the sweat from the beginnings of a widow’s peak with his sleeve. “Thanks man. I know it’s a small town, but you’re one of the few folks around here I trust to have my back when things go downhill.”

I smiled and held my arms open wide. “What are friends for Gregg?” We walked to the door and I opened it for my old friend. It creaked a little on its hinge as he walked through to the porch.

“Keep your eyes open for strangers and stay by the phone just in case yeah?” Hat back on his head he could have been Glenn Ford or Gary Cooper in one of those old black and white westerns. He waved over his shoulder as he turned back toward the cruiser’s flashing lights.

Waving at the dust cloud kicked up by the tires pulling back on to the main road, I shook my head and locked the door. Don’t want be too careful with the possibility of strangers in town tonight. Closed all the drapes and turned the volume up. My favorite song on the album took its turn spinning around the air of the living room. “Oh which one of us is free…Josephine”, I sang along at the top of my lungs.

I grabbed the plate of leftovers out of the fridge and pulled off the saran wrap. The sauce was still tangy on my finger when I took a swipe. I balanced the plate carefully on my left hand and opened the closet with my right. Pushing my leather jacket and old dust covered letterman’s vest aside, I took the metal latch at the edge of the back wall and gave it a twist. The wall pushed back and I switched on the light so I wouldn’t trip going down the smooth cement stairs.

It’s a small town all right, and I love it here.

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