That Night at Grandpa's (And Other Scary Stories)

Troll's Tunnel

A line of junior high boys riding their bicycles down a country road might not have looked too suspicious in the daytime. It was after ten o'clock our bicycle convoy hit the road. I watched each car that passed by to see if it would turn around. This made me forget we would have to cross over Troll's Tunnel.

The tunnel separated our family's field from my neighbor Donald's farm. Donald was a year older and had crazy ideas like wading with him from one side of the tunnel, under the road, to the other ... in just our briefs. That, of course, was before the Troll took up residence there.

Sometimes, during the long days of summer, my mom would whistle to remind me supper was ready. I would stop playing Five Dollars in Donald's yard, put away the baseball gear, and ride my bike back home. Grinding noises echoed from the tunnel as I rode over it on my bike. At the supper table, my older brothers told me it was the Troll sharpening his teeth. I made up my mind that I would never be late for supper again.

After school one Friday night, my neighbor Todd had a junior high all boys party. About ten o'clock, he looked at his watch and announced, "We are going to Bridget's house!" I did not want to ride my bike that far. We would have to ride past my house, then Donald's farm before getting to Bridget's. "And why do we want to go to her house anyway?" I asked. "She is having a birthday party for girls only," he said as he grabbed his bike and started down his driveway. I grabbed my bike and followed, immediately forgetting about crossing over Troll's Tunnel.

I did not know many of the boys' names at Todd's party. The full moon made it seem like we were riding under the streetlights in town. Todd kept looking at his watch and riding just a little faster each time. Is he late for something? I could hear chains rattling bicycle guards in a steady cadence. Other than that, we were as silent as sneaky pre-teens could be. We made it past Troll's Tunnel unnoticed the first time, so we thought. At Bridget's, we discovered a different story.

"Where's little Johnny?"

"I don't know."

"He was struggling to keep up. He's probably just mad and hiding somewhere. Ask his brother Ron."

Several of us already took to impressing the girls, checking out their tents, and eating any leftover snacks on the tables.

"Where is Ron?"

"Where's Brock ... and Mike?"

I turned and looked toward Troll's Tunnel.

"Guys, we better go and try to find them."

Todd said his goodbyes. It seemed to take forever. Even though he was one of the youngest, he was still in charge. We would have left without him but since it was his party and his late-night ride idea, we waited cross-armed on our bikes.

The line back toward Troll's Tunnel was much shorter. The line became a garbled horde of bikes as we halted just before the tunnel and talked about what to do.

"Do you think the troll got Johnny and Ron and the others?"

"Maybe they are hiding together in the tunnel and are going to scare us."

"I'm going," and Todd took off as fast as he could, crossed over the tunnel, then skidded sideways to look back at the rest of us.

"He made it!"

He had a quiet bike.

"I'm going to try."

One by one other bikers zoomed over the tunnel, skidded like Todd, and then looked back at the rest of us.

Todd's skidding must have awakened something under the road. The familiar grinding sound echoed out of both ends of the tunnel. This time, all of us heard it.

"He's sharpening his teeth!"

The younger ones could wait no longer and took off. A low rumbling sound came from the tunnel. The ground shook. Now, I could wait no longer. I zoomed past the younger ones. I streaked past the side skidded audience. I flew past Todd who was staring way up at something behind me that blocked the moon. He stood there frozen. I can still recall in slow motion the look on his face, the sounds from behind, the scared screams. I dared to look back and saw a shadowy blob emerge from the tunnel.

There really was a Troll!

My bike wobbled to make me fall. I cleverly corrected the wheel and kept peddling. A light came on from my mother's bedroom window as I was about to fly past, but decided I was not riding all the way back to Todd's.

I held my breath all the way into my kitchen and just stood there, soaked in sweat and staring at the moonlit table with its seasonings, napkins, and centerpiece. My mother found me in the morning. She said I was just standing there, not answering her, staring at the table. I finally looked at her when she touched my shoulder and then passed out.

When I finally woke up, it was after noon. I thought it all a dream. I looked out my bedroom window. Something sparkled near the tunnel. I raced through the house and down to the creek. It smelled awful. The road was wet with mud and dark stains. The scenes from last night played in my mind: passing skidded bikes, Todd's petrified face, the sounds, a huge shadow, moonlight gone. I looked down a saw what sparkled—Todd's watch!