meg82
03-26-2005, 01:19 AM
The Creeper
By Megan Doud
I’m staring out the window of my room at Woodrow Valley. A psychiatric hospital. A nut house. I don’t belong here. Because everything I’ve told the doctors is true. Why I can’t sleep without a light in every corner of the room. Why I wake up screaming.
It’s raining. I loved the rain when I was a little girl. I’d jump in the puddles at the end of our driveway. When mom would try to call me inside, I wouldn’t come. I’d pretend not to hear her.
But that was bad! I was very bad! I’m not anymore- I’m very good and I do everything that the doctors say! I even take my pills.
But I would like to…go outside again. That would be nice. But I can’t convince the doctors that I’ve been telling the truth. For 25 years…
* * *
I was seven. I lived in Canford Point, Iowa with my Mom, Dad, and brother and our cat, Hairy. We had a small house, close to our Elementary School, and my best friend Hannah lived next door. One summer, after school let out, mom called Grandma and Grandpa Evans and asked if we could stay for a few weeks while her and Daddy went on vacation. I loved grandma’s house, but at night it was very frightening. Grandma Evans lived on a farm, so there were no other houses around. Not like my neighborhood
where you could see in your neighbor’s window just by looking out your own. It was surrounded by trees, and it had a front porch that grandpa liked to sit on and drink a beer. The house wasn’t painted – just a dark wood paneling. It was big inside, but rustic.
Grandma was happy to take us, but she was a very strict lady. You helped with chores and behaved and did what she said, when she said. I miss her cinnamon cookies.
Me and my brother Joseph were very excited to go. It meant rides on grandpa’s tractor, fishing, and not going to Sunday school. It was a long trip, though, down to their old farmhouse in Mississippi. By the time we pulled into their gravel driveway, into the trees, Joseph and I were tired and hot and we were kicking each other in the back seat.
“You’d both better stop, especially you, Maggie! Grandma and Grandpa won’t tolerate that behavior!” I gave Joseph one more kick, ‘cause mom never punished me, even when she said she would.
Grandma and Grandpa Evans gave us both hugs on the porch and told us that
they were so happy to have us, then they talked with Mom and Daddy while Joseph and me ran around in the yard with Grandpa’s hunting dog, Chief. Mom and Daddy put our suitcases on the porch and told us goodbye and left.
“It’s gett’n dark! You kids come in fer supper.” Called Grandma. Grandpa walked inside with his pipe and Joseph ran across the yard and into the house. But I was busy playing with Chief. I threw a stick that went to far and flew somewhere into the woods. Chief skidded to a stop at the edge of the woods and growled.
“Go get it, Chief! Go get it!” I yelled. He didn’t, so I called him a stupid dog and went after it myself. But as I ran into the brush, Grandma yelled from the porch.
“Maggie Evans! Right now, child!”
I walked slowly up to the front porch and stopped in front of Grandma. She was wringing and twisting a dirty dishtowel in her hands.
“When I say somethin’, you gonna lis’n, now, you hear?”
I nodded and stuck my tongue out behind her back.
We were at the old farmhouse for a week when Grandma pulled me aside in the kitchen one day. I had been bad that week. I had messed up her garden, made my brother do my share of the laundry, and I never came to the supper table when she called. Now, she had asked me to help her dry the dishes and I had tried to sneak out of the room.
“Now, you lis’n, here. I’m yer Gran, and when I say somethin’, you gonna do it. Yer daddy never behaved this way.” She let go of my arm and handed me a towel.
“You gonna start behavin’,” She repeated in her thick southern accent that I loved to mimic. She turned to her dishes. “Tonight, I’m gonna have yer granddaddy tell you about the Creepers.”
I sat down on a stool and watched Grandma’s back as she scrubbed the dishes and muttered to herself. I thought about how she didn’t let me have any fun. Grandpa was getting to be a spoilsport too. That afternoon, Grandpa had been pouring fertilizer in the garden and I was bored, so I decided to chase Joseph around the garden with the rake. He screamed and took off toward the woods and I laughed at him. I ran even faster. It’d be fun to make him fall into the brush at the edge of the thicket. But then Grandpa yelled at us.
“HEY!”
We stopped dead in our tracks and I dropped the rake, thinking I was going to be yelled at for chasing my little brother with something so dangerous.
“You kids get away from those woods!” He yelled. We backed off and then I called back, “Why?”
“ ‘Cause I told you so! I don’t want you kids by the damn woods! Now go play somewhere else now, ya here?”
We did, and I took the rake along too.
It was time for supper. I was in my room, going through all the drawers in the nightstand and had found a neat pocket watch. So it went in my pocket. She had called for me twice, but I was finding so many things that I wanted to take home with me. The third time she called she sounded very angry, so, stuffing an old coin down my sock, I skipped down the long hallway and then down the creaky wood planked stairs. I sat down at the table and smiled at Joseph.
“We had to wait for you, Maggie. I’m hungry.”
I called him a baby.
“That’s enough.” Grandma took a chicken leg out of my hand. “We don’t eat ‘till we pray!”
We prayed, and I made faces at my brother while Grandma and Grandpa’s eyes were closed.
After we had cleaned our plates Grandma said, “Fred, tell Maggie about the Creepers.”
Grandpa gave me a withering look, from underneath his bushy eyebrows and said, “You been bad, Maggie?”
I sunk into my chair. He lit his pipe.
“I’ma tell you why you need to listen to yer Gran an me.” He puffed at his pipe, then scratched his beard. “There’s Creepers in the woods.”
Joseph blinked. “What’s Creepers, Grandpa?”
“They’s kids. Er, they used to be. They were kids, ‘at were bad, see. They never minded and they didn’t do no good. So they got stoled by thin’s in the woods and they were there fer a very long time. Then they get to be Creepers. They ugly thin’s. I seen ‘em when I didn’t mind my dad. They never hurt me ‘cause I started mindin’ see.”
“I’ve never seen one.” I said, trying to sound unconvinced.
Grandpa gave me a sideways look and puffed his pipe. “You will, you ain’t careful. Seen ‘em myself as a boy. Sometimes one’ll get into yer closet and getcha while yer sleepin’.”
Joseph got up and ran to Grandma, throwing his arms around her waist. “I don’t want the Creepers to get me!”
Grandma smoothed his hair and said, “Now, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. You’ve been a good boy.”
I sat there, feeling cold and scared for a moment. But then I thought about how many times Mom had told me that Santa would put coal in my stocking if I was bad. There was never any coal. Just the toys on my list.
That evening Grandma gave Joseph and me a bath, and let us watch a little TV before bed. Joseph was lying on his tummy, chin in his hands watching cartoons. I crept up behind him and grabbed his leg, with a roar. Joseph screamed. Then I started to laugh.
“You thought I was a Creeper!”
He ran from the room crying. Grandma came in, a dishtowel in her hand.
“That’s it. Time fer bed, right now.”
I only whined a little, but I was tired so I stomped up stairs and crawled under the covers. Grandma was at the door in minutes. “You say yer prayers?
“Yes,” I lied. She turned out the lights and I lay on my back staring at the ceiling.
(please see next thread for part 2)
By Megan Doud
I’m staring out the window of my room at Woodrow Valley. A psychiatric hospital. A nut house. I don’t belong here. Because everything I’ve told the doctors is true. Why I can’t sleep without a light in every corner of the room. Why I wake up screaming.
It’s raining. I loved the rain when I was a little girl. I’d jump in the puddles at the end of our driveway. When mom would try to call me inside, I wouldn’t come. I’d pretend not to hear her.
But that was bad! I was very bad! I’m not anymore- I’m very good and I do everything that the doctors say! I even take my pills.
But I would like to…go outside again. That would be nice. But I can’t convince the doctors that I’ve been telling the truth. For 25 years…
* * *
I was seven. I lived in Canford Point, Iowa with my Mom, Dad, and brother and our cat, Hairy. We had a small house, close to our Elementary School, and my best friend Hannah lived next door. One summer, after school let out, mom called Grandma and Grandpa Evans and asked if we could stay for a few weeks while her and Daddy went on vacation. I loved grandma’s house, but at night it was very frightening. Grandma Evans lived on a farm, so there were no other houses around. Not like my neighborhood
where you could see in your neighbor’s window just by looking out your own. It was surrounded by trees, and it had a front porch that grandpa liked to sit on and drink a beer. The house wasn’t painted – just a dark wood paneling. It was big inside, but rustic.
Grandma was happy to take us, but she was a very strict lady. You helped with chores and behaved and did what she said, when she said. I miss her cinnamon cookies.
Me and my brother Joseph were very excited to go. It meant rides on grandpa’s tractor, fishing, and not going to Sunday school. It was a long trip, though, down to their old farmhouse in Mississippi. By the time we pulled into their gravel driveway, into the trees, Joseph and I were tired and hot and we were kicking each other in the back seat.
“You’d both better stop, especially you, Maggie! Grandma and Grandpa won’t tolerate that behavior!” I gave Joseph one more kick, ‘cause mom never punished me, even when she said she would.
Grandma and Grandpa Evans gave us both hugs on the porch and told us that
they were so happy to have us, then they talked with Mom and Daddy while Joseph and me ran around in the yard with Grandpa’s hunting dog, Chief. Mom and Daddy put our suitcases on the porch and told us goodbye and left.
“It’s gett’n dark! You kids come in fer supper.” Called Grandma. Grandpa walked inside with his pipe and Joseph ran across the yard and into the house. But I was busy playing with Chief. I threw a stick that went to far and flew somewhere into the woods. Chief skidded to a stop at the edge of the woods and growled.
“Go get it, Chief! Go get it!” I yelled. He didn’t, so I called him a stupid dog and went after it myself. But as I ran into the brush, Grandma yelled from the porch.
“Maggie Evans! Right now, child!”
I walked slowly up to the front porch and stopped in front of Grandma. She was wringing and twisting a dirty dishtowel in her hands.
“When I say somethin’, you gonna lis’n, now, you hear?”
I nodded and stuck my tongue out behind her back.
We were at the old farmhouse for a week when Grandma pulled me aside in the kitchen one day. I had been bad that week. I had messed up her garden, made my brother do my share of the laundry, and I never came to the supper table when she called. Now, she had asked me to help her dry the dishes and I had tried to sneak out of the room.
“Now, you lis’n, here. I’m yer Gran, and when I say somethin’, you gonna do it. Yer daddy never behaved this way.” She let go of my arm and handed me a towel.
“You gonna start behavin’,” She repeated in her thick southern accent that I loved to mimic. She turned to her dishes. “Tonight, I’m gonna have yer granddaddy tell you about the Creepers.”
I sat down on a stool and watched Grandma’s back as she scrubbed the dishes and muttered to herself. I thought about how she didn’t let me have any fun. Grandpa was getting to be a spoilsport too. That afternoon, Grandpa had been pouring fertilizer in the garden and I was bored, so I decided to chase Joseph around the garden with the rake. He screamed and took off toward the woods and I laughed at him. I ran even faster. It’d be fun to make him fall into the brush at the edge of the thicket. But then Grandpa yelled at us.
“HEY!”
We stopped dead in our tracks and I dropped the rake, thinking I was going to be yelled at for chasing my little brother with something so dangerous.
“You kids get away from those woods!” He yelled. We backed off and then I called back, “Why?”
“ ‘Cause I told you so! I don’t want you kids by the damn woods! Now go play somewhere else now, ya here?”
We did, and I took the rake along too.
It was time for supper. I was in my room, going through all the drawers in the nightstand and had found a neat pocket watch. So it went in my pocket. She had called for me twice, but I was finding so many things that I wanted to take home with me. The third time she called she sounded very angry, so, stuffing an old coin down my sock, I skipped down the long hallway and then down the creaky wood planked stairs. I sat down at the table and smiled at Joseph.
“We had to wait for you, Maggie. I’m hungry.”
I called him a baby.
“That’s enough.” Grandma took a chicken leg out of my hand. “We don’t eat ‘till we pray!”
We prayed, and I made faces at my brother while Grandma and Grandpa’s eyes were closed.
After we had cleaned our plates Grandma said, “Fred, tell Maggie about the Creepers.”
Grandpa gave me a withering look, from underneath his bushy eyebrows and said, “You been bad, Maggie?”
I sunk into my chair. He lit his pipe.
“I’ma tell you why you need to listen to yer Gran an me.” He puffed at his pipe, then scratched his beard. “There’s Creepers in the woods.”
Joseph blinked. “What’s Creepers, Grandpa?”
“They’s kids. Er, they used to be. They were kids, ‘at were bad, see. They never minded and they didn’t do no good. So they got stoled by thin’s in the woods and they were there fer a very long time. Then they get to be Creepers. They ugly thin’s. I seen ‘em when I didn’t mind my dad. They never hurt me ‘cause I started mindin’ see.”
“I’ve never seen one.” I said, trying to sound unconvinced.
Grandpa gave me a sideways look and puffed his pipe. “You will, you ain’t careful. Seen ‘em myself as a boy. Sometimes one’ll get into yer closet and getcha while yer sleepin’.”
Joseph got up and ran to Grandma, throwing his arms around her waist. “I don’t want the Creepers to get me!”
Grandma smoothed his hair and said, “Now, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. You’ve been a good boy.”
I sat there, feeling cold and scared for a moment. But then I thought about how many times Mom had told me that Santa would put coal in my stocking if I was bad. There was never any coal. Just the toys on my list.
That evening Grandma gave Joseph and me a bath, and let us watch a little TV before bed. Joseph was lying on his tummy, chin in his hands watching cartoons. I crept up behind him and grabbed his leg, with a roar. Joseph screamed. Then I started to laugh.
“You thought I was a Creeper!”
He ran from the room crying. Grandma came in, a dishtowel in her hand.
“That’s it. Time fer bed, right now.”
I only whined a little, but I was tired so I stomped up stairs and crawled under the covers. Grandma was at the door in minutes. “You say yer prayers?
“Yes,” I lied. She turned out the lights and I lay on my back staring at the ceiling.
(please see next thread for part 2)