A Small Town

Chapter Eight\ Magnetawan Ontario - a History

Bax skimmed the foreword of the little paperback, from what he gleaned it was a self-published job, put together by a local historian who felt the world was ready to read the exciting (and creepy) folklore of the area. He doubted you would find this book anywhere outside of Magnetawan much less on anyone's bestseller list.

Magnetawan region was initially inhabited by Huron, Ojibway and Algonquin Indians, mostly used in the summer as a hunting ground. Later came the Europeans who ranged north when the pine stands in southern Ontario became depleted. Loggers and immigrants began to settle the area encouraged by free land grants starting in 1853 and by 1873 the village of Magnetawan was mapped out.

Bax yawned and flipped ahead. This was more like a textbook than the creepy exciting Stephen King-esque tale he had been promised by the barn owl.

He searched for a chapter titled, Primacy and found none. He skimmed through and finally found what he had been looking for in the thirteenth chapter.

As it turned out before Primacy had been called Primacy it had had another name. Clifford, Ontario was founded in 1876 by Reverend Clifford Brown. The Reverend brought the people together to lay the foundations for the Church and the rest of the town grew up around it. There had actually been two sawmills, one at either end of the town and for a while, the place was booming.

Bax leaned back and tried to imagine this backwater burg 'booming' and failed. He had passed the church today, doors locked and windows boarded up just like the town hall. Old Clifford Brown must be just about spinning in his grave.

Bax jumped forward a few pages and found a footnote. Witches – a witch trial had taken place in Clifford Ontario in 1882. Good ole Reverend Brown claimed a local Witch was responsible for everything from a bad growing season to missing children. Accordingly, the witch was hunted down and a trial was held at the end of which she was found guilty and sentenced to death.

He turned the page but that was the end of the story. The book continued listing everything from the closing of the sawmills to the name change from Clifford to Primacy in 1935, but there were no further mentions of witches.

Bax put the book down, finally something interesting and it was nothing more than a footnote. There was a knock at the door and he opened it to find the old man holding a tray. Lunch had arrived. He took the tray and the old man left without a word.

Simple soup and a ham sandwich, but as Bax started to eat he realized he was famished. He ploughed through the meal, burning his tongue on the hot soup in the process and went back to the book.

He read for another few hours until the daylight faded and darkness filled the room. There were some other interesting tidbits, Indian wars, a dislikable landowner killed by his wife a pretty school teacher who disappeared without a trace but it was all pretty standard rural fair.

Another knock at the door startled him awake. He had drifted off with the book on his chest. Bax rolled off of the bed and opened it rubbing his eyes. Sara Massie was standing in the hall with another tray. He hadn't asked for dinner and was surprised to see her.

"Good evening, sir." She said smiling.

"Hi Sara, please come in and call me Bax." His words tumbled out too quickly and he felt like a nervous teenager.

She slid past him through the doorway into the room and again that sweet flowery perfume drifted up fogging his brain. He shook his head, a bit like a dog, to clear it and followed after her. 

A candle in a brass holder on the tray guttered momentarily as she placed it down on the little writing desk. It flared back to life once the tray was still and Sara moved away to light the oil lamp on the side table.

Bax investigated the tray, tonight's menu was Country Fried Chicken with Mashed Potatoes, corn and thick white gravy. The smell of it made his mouth water.

"I hope you're hungry," she said behind him and he heard her strike a wooden match and the small pop as the lantern took the flame. It cast a friendly pool of light to the centre of the room but shadows still inked the corners. Bax turned to look at her and was amazed to see that the glow from the small brass fixture was creating an incredible orange corona around Sara's body. The light danced and swirled around her hair and softly caressed her bare shoulders. He looked down to see her green dress pooled around her feet. She still wore the white stockings and his instinct had been correct, they were indeed held up by a frilly lace garter belt. Tiny panties barely covered her pubic area and as he watched she unclasped the front of the matching bra and let it fall away. He breasts were firm and high with hard, silver dollar sized pink nipples.

She winked at him again and then she was in his arms. He kissed her mouth hard, then her cheeks and eyes. She laced her long thin fingers in his hair and returned his fevered kisses. Bax bent to feast on her breasts, biting and sucking her nipples in a frenzy of passion.

They fell to the bed and she was tugging his pants down as he unlatched his belt in one smooth motion and then ripped her panties away breaking the little elastic lace that encircled her hips. He lifted her small body and flipped her over onto her back plunging between her legs. Her tongue found his mouth at the same moment as he entered her.

She was tight and there was pain for both of them for a moment but then it was over and all that remained was fierce burning ecstasy. She was writhing beneath him, bucking her hips again and again. He was almost over the edge already and he steeled himself. Too soon... too soon he thought and tried to regain control.

He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them she was gone. In her place was the barn owl. Her long hair wrapped around him like snakes, coiling and squeezing. She opened her mouth and he was staring down into the well. Then the view transformed and he was at the bottom looking up and there was that circle of night sky again and he was suffocating. The air was gone and the rock pressed down upon him.

Bax screamed and his eyes flew open. He was back on the bed fully dressed, the book had fallen to the floor and his clothes were drenched in sweat.

A dream – just another damn dream he thought. He sat up on the bed his body aching and reached down to retrieve 'Magnetawan Ontario – A History' from the floor. As he did so he glanced over at the writing desk. A tray stared back at him. Upon it was a plate of Country Fried Chicken with mashed potatoes, corn and congealed white gravy.

Bax swallowed hard.

"What the fuck is going on?" he asked aloud. His voice was small and afraid.