Welcome Steemit Friends I invite you into my world for some horror and the power to overcome horror. It is a world of the spirit and the hidden abilities some people have that they find out and secretly use to the benefit of all of us. Written for Steemit.
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The Dancer - The Beginning 3
“Should I call you Gran’pa?” Bjorn asked me when he was twelve. Martha was in the seventh grade. Bjorn was standing there next to her on that Friday in later September where kids waited to be picked up if they were not taking the school bus or walking.
I was taking Martha home from school that day because I wanted to take her fishing for bass later in the afternoon. It only took her ten minutes to walk home but that was ten minutes saved. She needed to change clothes to something more rugged and maybe pick up a heavier jacket.
“You are not one of my gran’kids so you can call me Roland.” I stuck out my hand as he looked in the open door as Martha hopped in. “What is your name?”
“Bjorn wants to know if he could come with us fishing gran’pa.” Martha asked as she buckled her seat belt.
“I suppose he could,” I answered Martha, “But we can’t make too many stops. Bjorn is it?” I shook his hand and said, “Get in.”
Martha unbuckled and slid over closer to me. Bjorn quickly took her place. We were off as soon as the door closed.
“Pete thought Bjorn could use one of our other poles.” Martha suggested.
“Yes, well we are taking your brother too if he is there on time, remember?”
“Then he can use Mom or Dad’s pole.” Martha nodded at Bjorn and said.
I thought to ask Bjorn if anyone knew where he was going. “I already called my Mom and she said if you said it was alright I could go fishing. I like to fish.”
“That’s fine then.” I stated. There was only another block to go to the house and I pulled up to the curb to park. “Everyone hurry up, I know where the poles are at. I’ll get those. Just then, my gran’son ran out holding two poles straight to the truck. I opened the hatch on the camper shell and slid them in, “Go and get your Mom’s pole too Pete.” Martha was already in the front door.
“Okay.” Peter turned and ran back toward the house. I knew it would be a few minutes and since Bjorn stood there. I took a good look at him.
He had blond hair that was a little too long for my tastes, about to his shoulders. He was a couple of inches taller than Martha. He had a noticeable scar on his right cheek and green eyes. His hair was about as blond as it could get before turning platinum. He must have been a little older than Martha, maybe he was in the eighth grade and I knew from his handshake he had a very strong grip for a boy. “Are you Martha’s boyfriend?”
“No, I am teaching her kung fu.” Bjorn answered, then paused and continued, “Well, maybe not teaching it to her but I tend to be partnered with her all the time in our class.”
“And you just happened to want to go fishing with her huh, Bjorn?” I winked at him as I smiled.
“I also know Pete very well and we are in another class together.” Bjorn answered, “Calisthenics workouts.”
“Oh I see, so you came to go fishing with Pete instead of Martha?”
“Yes.”
“So, you were with Martha because you and Pete already worked this out without telling me?”
“I suppose so. I thought you knew.” Bjorn answered.
“I wish I had but it doesn’t really matter as long as we have fun and catch fish.” I said and then first Pete came out the door and Martha right after, dressed perfectly, “Okay, so this is your friend, huh Pete?”
“This is Bjorn Gran’pa. He is a purple belt almost ready to go to brown.” Pete answered as he ran up.
“Okay give me the pole.” I held out my hands.
“We’ll ride in the back.” Pete said to both Bjorn and me. He started to climb up just after I put in the pole.
As I stepped out of their way, Bjorn quickly slid in to the right of Pete through the open hatch. “Sit with your backs to the cab.”
“Okay,” the two boys replied in near unison and I closed the camper shell hatch. As I walked to seat myself in the truck, Martha was already in place, belted with the door closed.
As I started the truck I said to Martha, “So, Bjorn is not your boyfriend?”
She stuck her tongue out like she had swallowed poop, gagged and said, “Not eve Gran’pa.”
I laughed in response to that as I pulled away from the curb. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Martha nodded at my response. I had a little trolling boat at berth on Cedar Point. Well, maybe it would take twenty minutes at the most but we would be out at the mouth of the Maumee by 4:00 pm and that would let us fish for at least two hours, maybe three.
Martha would jiggle in her seat every so often after she turned on the radio. I did not know any of the music that played on this rock ‘n roll station that I could recognize. “Some of them,” I asked Martha when she did seated dance moves for the third time, “Or are you just enjoying the music?”
“Both but we want a safe trip right?”
“Yes, we do.” I agreed.
“And we want to catch a lot of fish, right?”
“Oh yes, a lot of fish,” I thought my gran’kid was so funny with what she believed. She actually believed that if she danced just right before we fished – I allowed no dancing in the boat – we would have a great haul. Come to think of it, we always did. I can never remember getting skunked when Martha was with me. That is why I took her. “So, does Bjorn know about them?”
“He and Peter…Peter told him and Bjorn said it was idiotic and there was no such thing. I hate him.” Martha answered while she danced under her seat belt.
“Then why did you bring him along if you hate him?” I asked.
“Just because he does not believe me, I do like to dance with him at the dances. He is very coordinated compared to everyone else.”
“He is not a bad looking kid either,” I winked at her.
“I never really thought about it but it wouldn’t matter. He likes Felicia Potts. Her mother will not let her go to the dances so he dances with me because he is my partner in gym almost all the time because we are near the same size.” That was a mouthful. Martha’s face looked disgusted by the whole line of questioning.
“I suppose you probably are taller than most of the kids your age and he is too.” I did not go by schools that much anymore now that all my kids were grown and, “I thought he was at least a year older than you.”
“We are in the same grade, same age, and same gym class. There are taller kids in the seventh grade but not in our gym class.”
“So, everyone is learning this kung fu, what exactly is that?” I asked Martha.
“It is what Bruce Lee does, Gran’pa.”
“And who is Bruce Lee?” I asked.
“Bruce Lee is the kung fu fighter in Enter the Dragon, Fists of Fury. He is on the Green Hornet TV show.” Martha answered, “Kato, the driver.”
“Oh now I know who he is, I like that show,” I said as we pulled off the main street into the drive that lead to the boat docks.
“You can set things up if you want Gran’pa,” Martha said as she looked around, “But you better give me at least five minutes, no ten to dance around or we won’t catch any fish here.”
“Whatever it takes to catch the fish,” I laughed, “don’t want to waste boat motor gas if we don’t have to.” She did not answer me and peered around like she was watching something in many places as we drove down the drive, “A lot of them are there?” We were only doing 5 mph, the speed limit.
“More than I remember ever seeing.” Martha said as she turned off the radio, undid the seat belt and moved around on the seat waving her arms and bobbing her head.
Once I pulled into the parking spot, she jumped out and started dancing up a storm. She could move so well. Even though the front clip of the truck was in the way, once she began, I was mesmerized. Peter beat on the window.
“Are you going to let us out Gran’pa?” He yelled. And so I did. I ended up having to pull everything out of the truck and put it in the boat. The kids were dancing away, even Bjorn, though his did not really look like dancing as much as fighting.
Finally Martha declared an all clear and Pete came running over to me, “Did you see them?”
“See what?” I never saw anything. “Is it safe to go fishing?”
“I haven’t seen them in a very long time and, Martha! Can we go fishing now?” Pete yelled back at Martha. Bjorn stopped kicking, moving his arms. Martha was right he was very graceful.
Martha had worked up a sweat with her thick coat on. She and Bjorn came over one after the other. Both sweating, they really had danced about ten minutes and very briskly from what I saw, “We’re ready.” Martha told me and Bjorn nodded.
Bjorn looked very pale white and nearly frightened. “Are you all right?” I asked him.
“I think I saw several ghosts.” Bjorn huffed between breaths from exertion. “I’ve never seen any before in my life.”
“Where?” I stood up in the boat and looked to where they had danced around. “I don’t see anything.” I peered. “All three of you saw something?”
“They’re gone.” Martha stated and stepped into the boat and sat down, “We’re going to catch a lot of fish.”
It was perfectly sunny out. I observed as the rest climbed into the twelve foot boat. The only thing I saw was light and shadows from the many trees spread out along between the drive and the shore of Lake Erie. “Are you sure you kids are not just seeing shadows?”
“The shadows started to move.” Bjorn stated. “I saw it myself for the first time. She is right. I don’t believe it.”
Pete chimed in right after Bjorn was through that he had not seen it happen since he was a kid. He still was a kid but…”So, it is better to have a girlfriend that can go to the dance with you?” I winked at Bjorn as I pull started the ten horsepower motor.
“No, really…” Bjorn’s answered was drowned out when the motor roared to life.
I had to let the motor warm up a bit. It hadn’t been run since last weekend but Martha smiled at Bjorn like she had just noticed him. Yes, I was sure he agreed to her strangeness because she could go to the dances and Felicia could not.
All told we fished from 4:15 to 6:00 pm and caught 12 bass, plus two carp. We threw the carp back but every bass was a keeper. I don’t know if it was the dancing away of them or that I read in Ben Franklin’s Almanac it was time to fish from 4:00 to 6:30 pm. Every time we went fishing I planned it on the book. I never told the kids that.
Gran’ma came over to the house in her car and we had one of the best fish fries. At ten, we watched the news. The kids were all in bed, or in their rooms. Bjorn had walked home at about 9:30.
The news was horrible. There were three separate murders. I will never forget it. We knew one of the people a friend of ours named Ed Ploughski was shot alongside the road changing a flat, killed. Two other people were killed, a mother and her two year old - nothing like that had ever happened here. There were riots against the war. It was like the world was changing before my eyes.
I heard several thumps from the direction of the bedrooms.
“She must be dancing,” Mommy said, “I’ll go check.” In a minute she was back, “She and Pete in her room. I put them to bed.”
“Getting rid of them?” I asked Mommy.
“As usual, we’re going to have to break them of that dear,” she turned to Daddy.
“Yes, this is going a little too far and they are past the ages for things like this.” He said.
“Before we do that,” I said, “Tomorrow,” I whispered, “The fishing is supposed to be terrible. And all the kids said they saw them at the lake. We could go fishing again,” I looked at Daddy, Rog, “And you could go too to see for yourself.”
“I think you’re right. Tomorrow we will go fishing and see if we catch a lot before we decide to stop their behavior.”
“Oh come on dear, for the love of Pete.” Mommy exclaimed.
“Who knows?” I looked at Rog.
“Who knows?” He looked me seriously in the eye. “We could catch another lot like today.”
“You’re not actually going to encourage the children to misbehave like this just because you might catch fish?” Gran’ma was aghast.
“Oh, don’tcha know,” Mommy shook her head, “Men.”
“We’ll have to eat breakfast first, 9?” I suggested to Rog.
“We’ll meet you there at nine-thirty.” Rog settled it.
“Done,” I said to Rog and to the wife, “We best get home, dear.” We said goodbyes and put their poles in the back of the truck. As soon as we were in the truck, we left the car there for the kids to use tomorrow. I heard an earful as soon as I started to drive away and even after we got home.
Copyright:
Written for Steemit: Copyright © 2017 Jeff Kubitz - The Dancer - et al. All Rights Reserved. Steemit.com/steemit/@jeff-kubitz
Really good can't wait for the next one
Thank you very much @honeywish