Stories to Keep You Awake at Night

The tale of Shuffling Joe; Part 1

It was a typical day at school when I heard that Jessica Braymer had disappeared. That’s not to say that there was anything especially “typical” about Jessica herself. She’d been one of the most beautiful girls in school. She’d been in virtually every organization, her grades were good… she even played the flute. Not that many people really liked her. She, like many other students, was exceedingly “popular,” but not especially well-liked. She was the kind that would smile softly while asking you to buy some pies for the Prom Committee, but then rebuff you in the hallway when you said hello. You know the kind.

It was still shocking, though, when she went missing. Everyone felt bad, especially for her boyfriend, Jake. They’d been dating for several months and it was, after all, really sad that a girl from Addison High should go missing like that. It was whispered about, speculated about… talked to death. Then school let out for the summer.

Nothing was really said about Jessica when school started again. Of course, come autumn someone started a rumor that Jessica’s ghost had been seen out by Jefferson Creek on the Old South Road. No one was terribly surprised by this, mind you. It’s a creepy stretch of highway that runs by the abandoned Carver Place. If a person’s ghost was going to be seen somewhere, that would be the place. The rumor created an interesting little buzz in the school, just in time for Halloween.

Most people poked fun at the rumor because they didn’t want to seem uptight or overly serious. I mean, the whole thing was over six months old. It was basically old news. There’d been no leads; there had been no body. The case was dead and so, probably, was Jessica. How or why was anyone’s guess. Besides, it wasn’t as if anyone was terribly torn up about her disappearance, except Jake, that is. I guess you could say the cheerleading squad was pretty sad too, actually, but only because she’d taken so many years of gymnastics and could do some really cool stunts.

The weeks went by and the whole story about Jefferson Creek reached fever pitch. It was mid-autumn, so, naturally, everyone wanted to go out to the Old South Road after dark and try to get a glimpse of her disembodied spirit. It wasn’t that different from the kids who played “Ghost in the Graveyard” out in Westlawn Cemetery. It was kind of disrespectful, but basically harmless. Besides, we all found it kind of intriguing… especially my friend, Lena.

Lena was something of a “Goth” girl. She didn’t exactly practice witchcraft, but she was fascinated by it. She claimed that she knew how to perform spells and that she had the ability to talk to the dead, but I wasn’t entirely convinced she had any special ability in either discipline. Personally, I suspected that she’d adopted the whole gothic persona just to be different. I’d seen her in action enough times to know that she was one of those people who’d argue with you just so she wouldn’t appear ordinary. You know the kind. They’re always pointing out your short-comings in that slightly condescending way. It didn’t surprise me at all when she said that I was a dead battery when it came to the spirit world (as if she’d know the difference). However, when she suggested that we drive out to Jefferson Creek for a Jessica Braymer séance, I decided to go along, but just for kicks. The idea sounded pretty weird, but it was getting close to Halloween and I thought it might be interesting. Besides, the idea of doing something adventurous that would appall my overly-religious mother was strangely appealing to me. I’m not even sure why.

Word about the séance got around the school almost immediately. People I didn’t even know were coming up to me and either asking to come along or telling me how repulsed and disgusted they were. In truth, I wasn’t even sure how I felt about the whole business myself. I mean, it all sounds great when you’re sitting in the school cafeteria eating cheese sticks and slugging soda telling everybody about it. It’s another thing entirely to be out by the edge of the creek in the moonlight with the smell of dry leaves wafting on the breeze and the sound of water rolling nearby.