The Fear County Chronicle #12
Feel that chill in the air? The leaves are falling, and the pumpkins are glowing. It's almost Halloween!
It’s October, y’all! Time for the evening sky to grow darker at suppertime and the acrid scent of woodsmoke to fill the air. It seems like autumn has arrived late during the past few years; summer temperatures and humidity tended to stick around until nearly the first of November (at least down here in the South). This year has been different, however. Cooler temps and fiery leaves have arrived on time and the coming of October actually feels natural. Of course, folks of our inclination have our thoughts on things other than pumpkin spice lattes and taking a Shining-like stroll through a corn maze. Trips to Spirit Halloween, pumpkin carving, and helping the young’uns prepare for Trick or Treat. Watching our favorite horror flicks and snuggling on the front porch swing or the armchair with a good, ol’ spooky book. Those things we loved as kids and just can’t let go of (thank goodness!)
It seems like this has been my busiest October in years. Part of it has been promoting my memoir/writing guide Southern Fried & Horrified, while part of it has been preparing for my daughter Reilly’s wedding. This month has been very eventful, to say the least. So, let’s take a look at what’s been going on and is still to come…
LitFest 2022 with Stygian Sky Media
This weekend, the lovely Mrs. Joyce and I will be winging our way to Chicago for Semicolon Bookstore’s First Annual LitFest. I’ll be signing copies of my Stygian Sky Media memoir and writing guide, Southern Fried & Horrified, and my Death’s Head Press chapbook series, Somewhere South of Hell. I’ll be accompanied by Broken Hope guitarist and author, Jeremy Wagner (Rabid Heart) and veteran rock music photographer, Gene Ambo (Heavy Metro). We will be signing books at the event on Saturday from 2:00 pm to 5:00 pm. If you’re in the Chicago area, stop by, say howdy, and take home a book or two!
Ten Creature Feature Books for Halloween
A week or so ago I wrote a guest post at Rue Morgue Magazine Online called “Ten Creature Feature Books for Frightful Halloween Reading”. These were my top choices for horror novels and novellas featuring monsters and creatures that would provide plenty of shivers and screams for Halloween. The authors I recommended include Stephen King, Brian Keene, Hailey Piper, Stephen Graham Jones, Grady Hendrix, Peter Benchley, Josh Malerman, Briana Morgan, Candace Nola, and V. Castro. You can read the article here to see which spine-tingling tomes I suggested for All Hallow’s Eve reading.
5 Tips for Forming Your Own Distinct Voice
I also had an article featured in Writer’s Digest Magazine called “5 Tips for Forming Your Own Distinct Voice (and Why That’s Important). Over the years, I’ve found that developing a distinctive writing voice is important for marketability and longevity in an author’s writing career. Featured in this article are just a few tips on how to make your writing stand out in today’s competitive, book-saturated market. You can read the article here at Writer’s Digest Online.
A Southern-Fried Halloween Story!
For this Halloween edition of the Chronicle, I’m including a free tale from my story collection, The Halloween Store & Other Tales of All Hallows’ Eve. (Fun fact: this story was actually based on a true (extremely creepy) Halloween event in my childhood!)
“Clown Treats”
They were halfway into their trick-or-treating, when they reached McLaren Avenue.
“Hey, let’s go to Mrs. Abernathy’s house first,” suggested Andy.
The other two – Madison and Jeff – agreed enthusiastically. Their fifth-grade teacher, Helen Abernathy, always had the best treats on the block. Not crappy stuff like bubble gum or Dum Dum suckers, but the good stuff; Fun-sized Snickers and Baby Ruths, and sometimes cool candy like Pop Rocks or Fun Dip. And she wasn’t stingy, either. She usually deposited a heaping handful into their bags, especially if you were one of her students.
They marched down the sidewalk to the two-story white house in the center of McLaren. Andy was dressed as Captain Jack Sparrow, Madison as Wonder Woman, and Jeff as Negan from The Walking Dead. Their bags – the big, sturdy Brach’s Candy sacks that Mr. Wilkes gave out at the drugstore every Halloween – were only an eighth of the way full. They knew Mrs. Abernathy’s generosity would boost that amount significantly, by a quarter pound at least.
They reached the house and opened the gate of the white picket fence. The front porch light glowed invitingly, beckoning them. They walked up the concrete walkway, mounted the porch steps, and approached the door.
Jeff reached out and rang the doorbell with Lucille – a plastic Wiffle Ball bat spray-painted blood red and wrapped with silver floral wire from his mom’s flower shop. “Trick or Treat!” they called out, laughing.
When no one came to the door, Andy reached out and knocked. The moment his knuckles touched the wooden panel, the door swung slowly inward.
They looked at one another. Madison shrugged and tentatively pushed it open. “Mrs. Abernathy?”
Beyond the doorway, stretched the Abernathy living room. It was dark, except for a single lamp at the far corner of the room. As they stepped inside, they were startled to see a shadowy form sitting in a large, leather recliner. Even in the gloom they could make out the figure’s features.
It was a clown. A rather large and rotund one. His costume was bright yellow, red, and blue, and his shoes were a good eighteen inches with the toes slightly curled at the ends. His face was ghostly white with blue and green highlights and his foam nose was round and red. Completing the ensemble was a rainbow-colored afro wig.
“Happy Halloween, kids!” he greeted. A white-gloved hand motioned for them to approach. “Come on in. We’ve been expecting you.”
Madison pressed her hand against her chest and giggled. “Mr. Abernathy! You scared us half to death!”
The clown pouted and wagged a finger at her. “It’s Chuckles to you, young lady.”
“Okay… Chuckles.” The girl’s eyes struggled to see in the gloom. “Where’s Mrs. Abernathy?”
Chuckles grinned broadly. His eyes glinted like bits of sharp metal in the dim glow of the living room lamp. “Oh… she’s around somewhere.” He regarded the three children. “Come closer… let me take a look at you.”
Although they felt a little weird actually entering the Abernathy house, they did as they were told. The clown leaned forward and appraised the fifth graders. “So, you’re Helen’s students?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” said Andy. “Mrs. Abernathy is our favorite teacher.”
Chuckles laughed. It was a strange sound, bearing more sarcasm than humor. “Why, of course she is! After all, you are her class! Her precious children… the love her life… the reason she does what she does, day after day.” The three couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like there was a strong tone of resentment in the man’s voice.
Madison took a step backward when the man belched loudly. She could tell that he had been drinking. Not beer. No, this was something much stronger. Sort of like the bottle of Jack Daniels her father and her uncle broke out after Thanksgiving dinner every November. The stench of alcohol seemed to literally reek from the man’s pores.
“I guess you’re ready for some treats, aren’t you?” He leered through his mask of pale greasepaint. “Well, come closer.”
They took a couple of steps.
He grinned in the gloom. “Closer.”
Andy looked at Madison and she at Jeff. It was clear that the same thing was on each of their minds. We should really get out of here.
On the floor, between the clown’s oversized feet, was a large black trash bag; the big 50-gallon lawn type you buy at Home Depot. His gloved hands dipped into the bag and disappeared from sight. “You know, you children – her wonderful students – is all she ever talks about. How smart you are, how witty and sharp. Never mind that I want to talk about work or football or any of my interests. It’s always about you. She never thinks about my wants or needs. Just her twenty-three little elementary school angels.”
Jeff looked toward the staircase and the upstairs landing above. Both were dark and motionless. Where is she? he thought. Is she and Mr. Abernathy playing a joke on us?
“I… I think we ought to be going,” Madison said, echoing the other two’s thoughts.
Chuckles acted like he hadn’t heard her. “She stays up well past bedtime every night, grading homework and making lesson plans. And where am I? Alone in bed, waiting for her. Most nights I can’t even stay awake to kiss her goodnight. But do you think that bothers her? Hell, no. After all, it’s all about her precious class. That’s what matters most.”
Uncomfortably, the three backed up a couple of steps.
The clown’s eyes widened a little, looking glazed and disoriented. I think he’s going to pass out or something, Andy thought to himself.
But he didn’t. “You know what she says? She always says ‘It’s my duty to encourage and inspire them. Sure, they’re only in the fifth grade, but they are so bright and inquisitive, they could grow up to be anything. A doctor, a scientist… even the President of the United States. I want to make an impression that will set their futures in motion… give them a little bit of me to carry around for the rest of their lives’. I always thought that was bullshit. But you know what? I agree with her now. I think that’s exactly what she oughta do.”
They backed up a few steps more. Madison glanced over her shoulder. The front door – still standing open – seemed a mile away.
Chuckle’s tiny eyes seemed to refocus. “Where do you think you’re going? Come here.”
“Mister Abernathy… we’ve really gotta…”
“I said… come here.”
Frightened, they did as he said.
“Now hold out your bags,” he instructed. “Mrs. Abernathy told me to give you something special… along with a message from her.”
“Uh…okay,” stammered Jeff. He held his candy sack open. The paper of the
sack rattled in his trembling hands.
Chuckles the Clown grinned broadly, showing off nasty, tobacco-stained teeth. He dipped into the trash bag and brought something out, dropping it into the depths of Jeff’s bag. It was so dark in the living room that the boy couldn’t tell exactly what it was. A plastic bag of some kind.
“Mrs. Abernathy says that twelve inches equals one foot.”
As Jeff stepped away, Madison approached him. The treat was deposited into her sack, heavy enough to cause her bag to sag. “Mrs. Abernathy says that you deserve a big hand, for helping sharpen her pencils and keeping her blackboard erased and clean.”
Then it was Andy’s turn. It took two hands to dig his treat from the depths of the lawn bag. When it was dropped into his sack, it felt as if a bowling ball had been placed there. “Mrs. Abernathy wants you to excel in your studies. To study your lessons and always get ahead.”
The three kids stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next.
Chuckles laughed loudly. It had a ring to it that was utterly devoid of humor or good will. “Well, what are you waiting for? You got what you came for. Now get the hell out of here.”
Without further hesitation, they did as he said. A moment later they were away from that shadowy living room and outside again. They leapt down the steps and made it to the sidewalk below. Inside the house, they could hear Mr. Abernathy aka Chuckles, laughing and talking to himself.
They reached the leaf-strewn avenue of McLaren and stood there in the pale glow of the streetlights.
Jeff laughed nervously. “That was so weird!”
“I’ll say!” said Andy. “What did he give us anyway? Mine feels like it
weighs a ton!”
“I don’t know.” Madison reached into her bag and felt around. She found the corner of the plastic bag and lifted it. It was heavy… sloshing with sluggish liquid.
She nearly had it out of her treat bag when the streetlight overhead shone on its contents. The halogen glow revealed pale, white flesh and the sparkling gleam of a diamond wedding ring. The fingernails were painted Malibu Blush Pink… Mrs. Abernathy’s favorite color.
Andy watched as the girl dropped the plastic bag and flung the sack to the ground. Her face was bleached with shock. He turned and saw a dark stain blossom across the front of Jeff’s blue jeans as his friend stared into his own treat bag and moaned.
Almost afraid to look, Andy glanced down into his trick-or-treat sack. His plastic bag was larger than theirs; the big two-gallon size. The zip-lock edges had come loose, and a strand of curly copper hair protruded from the gap. He was familiar with that particular hue, for he saw it every day, Monday through Friday, from eight o’clock am to two-forty-five pm.
Horrified, the three abandoned their bags and ran home as fast as their feet could carry them.
The police arrived at the Abernathy home twenty minutes later, but Chuckles the Clown was nowhere to be found.
They would search for him for most of that Halloween night before they finally found him.
After all, he had a school classroom roster and many more treats to deliver.
You can find “Clown Treats” and other Halloween tales in my two collections The Halloween Store & Other Tales of All Hallow’ Eve (available in eBook, paperback, and audiobook) and Mister Glow-Bones & Other Halloween Tales (available in eBook and paperback).
Well, that’s about it for this issue of The Fear County Chronicle. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks with more Southern-Fried news and features. Until then, take care and, if I don’t see you before the 31st, Happy Halloween Nightmares, y’all!
Aahhh! What a creepy tale. Being an Elementary PE teacher this creeped me out a little extra. Haha
Happy Early Halloween. Have a great time in Chicago. Congratulations on the wedding. I love this story.