Ada Malone and Spencer Woods

Ada Malone and Spencer Woods, by J.D.Webb

I tried several times to reach my father, but there was no one at home, and his office didn't know where he was. All I could do was leave a message that I would call back. I was upset because I did miss him, but it wasn't a surprise he was not home. I sat in grandfather's old truck for hours, reading the book I had borrowed from the book store. I had read several chapters already, from Mr. Whitworth's first coming to this area, to the wife he lost after his seventh son was born. From what I had read, Mr. Whitworth was very open and friendly until his wife's death or, should I say, disappearance. It seems that Mrs. Whitworth vanished a couple of weeks after her son was born. She had walked half a mile to help her younger sister, who was giving birth to her first child. She never reached her sister's house, and only her hat was found along the pathway through the woods, Harvest Woods. After that, Mr. Whitworth changed completely. He was withdrawn, and at times he was just downright hateful with the people of the town. Mr. Whitworth's oldest son left home and moved up north with some of his mother's family. The youngest son stayed in the small town until his death in 1954. The book only mentions the other five son's once, which I found odd.

I was finishing up the 5th chapter when the truck door opened, and grandfather climbed in. "You ready to go home, I hope," he asked, and I nodded my head. "Yes, sir," I replied, and the old truck started with a rumble. "That's some book you got there," grandfather said, and I looked at it and then at him. "Yes, the lady at the book store loaned it to me. It's about the town. A Mr. Whitworth wrote it before his death," I replied, thinking that might start a conversation with grandfather, but all it did was get me a stern look.

Old Mr. Whitworth was as crazy as they come. He used to go up into the Harvest woods and walk along the creek looking for his wife. Hell, everyone in town knew she left him with all those kids, ran off with a hat salesman some say," grandfather said. "His sons were all strange ducks just like their father. The only one that had any sense was the youngest, and now he has passed on. There are a lot of stories about the Whitworth's; some say the old man made a pact with demons in the woods along Spencer creek, but that is just what they say," grandfather replied as he continued to drive toward the house. "Where is Harvest Woods," I asked, and grandfather looked at me and laughed. "That is what they use to call the north end of Spencers Woods," he replied.

I tried several times on the way home to get grandfather to tell me more about Mr. Whitworth, but it was like pulling hen's teeth, a waste of time. Grandmother was setting the table for dinner when I walked into the kitchen. "Well, how is your father," she asked with a smile, and then the smile vanished; she knew by the look on my face. "Well, you will get hold of him later. He is really busy right now, I bet," she added, and I just nodded and headed upstairs. 

I read several more chapters before I turned the small bedside lamp off and closed my eyes. It had been a long day, and all I wanted to do right now was sleep. But, as I lay on the soft bed, I thought about the book and how Mr. Whitworth talked about something strange in Spencer's woods and how he saw things moving among the trees in the moonlight that would scare even the bravest men and send them running. Next, he wrote about an older woman who lived along the creek just north of the woods and talked to spirits. He called her 'Mother DuBoise,' and mentioned how everyone in town and the surrounding area feared her. He even went as far as calling her an evil witch who talked to the dead. Finally, he talked about the families who settled in the town, and my ancestors were some of the first. Father had given me a book once that had all my relatives listed in it. I was only ten, but I remember reading that book and then having nightmares over it. Father finally took it away and said I could have it back when I was older, and I am still waiting on its return.

I guess I fell to sleep somewhere between my thoughts on the book and the thunder clapping and rolling across the lightning-filled sky. Then, a huge bang awakened me, and I jumped up in the bed. The room was dark except when the lightning flashed across the stormy sky, lighting up the room. The small clock beside the bed read 5:00 am as I rubbed my eyes. I listened for the sounds of my grandparents downstairs, but all I could hear was the wind and the rain. This was a bad storm, and I could see the huge trees blowing from side to side like ballet dancers. I pulled the covers back up over me and closed my eyes. It was cold, and I could feel a cold wind blowing across my face. It was strange because the window was closed. The thunder shook the house to the point where the glass in the windows rattled. I pulled the blanket up over my head and closed my eyes; I was ready for the morning.

"The storm keep you up last night," grandmother asked as I was rubbing my eyes. "Yes, ma'am, it was loud, and I was so cold," I replied, and grandfather looked at me for a second and then continued his breakfast.

"I heard you met Miss Marple's yesterday at the bookstore. She is one of the oldest living residents of the town," grandmother said as she took her place at the table. "She seemed to be a nice lady," I replied, and grandmother smiled and nodded her head. "Well, today is Saturday, and we always go buy our groceries on Saturday. So you are coming with us right," grandmother asked, and I could tell by her voice and the look in her eyes, she wanted me to say yes. "Sure," I said and finished my breakfast. 

I was surprised at all the people in the small town. Yesterday it was almost like a cemetery, and now it was overrun with people. "The kid's all go down to the d**g store and get a malt or a cherry, Dr. Pepper. I remember those days," grandmother said in a soft voice, and grandfather made his mumbling sound again and received an elbow from grandmother for his effort. Grandfather parked the old truck in front of the hardware store and opened his door. "I have to pick up some parts for the tractor, you go on, and I'll meet you back here," he told grandmother as he walked toward the old brick building. "Here, child," grandmother said, handing me a five-dollar bill. "You go get you a malt and have some fun. Just be back here in an hour," she said as she walked across the street to the store. I could see the sign that said. Doug's d**g's and I laughed; what a name for a d**g store. I found a booth and sat down, and when the young guy came to take my order, he smiled. "You're new here," he said, and I nodded. "Yes, I am staying with my grandparents for a while," I replied, and he smiled. I ordered a strawberry malt, and he nodded and walked back to the booth. There were a lot of kids coming and going, mostly grabbing a drink from the counter and heading back out into the warm sunshine. I drank my malt and was about finished when the young guy returned and asked if I wanted anything else. I told him no and thanked him for the malt. "You said you're staying with your grandparents," he asked, and I smiled. "Yes, Amos and Emma Malone," I replied, and the smile on his face vanished. It was like I had just hit him with a baseball bat and stole his candy. "Oh," was his only reply as he tried to force a smile. I said goodbye and walked to the door. I turned to see him still standing in the same spot staring at me. What did I just say, I thought as I walked back toward the truck. Along the way, I saw a clothing store. Since father had given me money to buy school clothes and supplies before I left, I figured now was as good a time as any to see what they had inside. 

Several girls were inside; actually, it was a bit crowded for me, but I continued down the aisle looking at the jeans and shirts. "You the new girl," a voice said, and I turned to see three girls about my age standing staring at me. "I don't know, am I," I replied as I continued looking at a blue button-up shirt. "Yeah, I saw her the other day get off the bus and then get in that old truck with that Amos Malone. I think someone said she is his granddaughter," one of the other girls said in a very snotty tone. "That's right, I am Amos Malone's granddaughter," I shot back, and they all just looked at me like I had grown horns. I could see the girls whispering to other girls in the store, and I saw the looks on their faces, a look of distaste.

I walked to the counter and placed the blue button-up shirt on the counter. "This will look pretty on you, especially with those big, deep blue eyes of yours," the salesgirl said, and she smiled. "I am Jolene Mayers," she said with a smile that put me to ease. "I am Ada Malone," I replied, and I waited for her smile to vanish as the other girls had. "You kin to Amos and Emma," she asked, and I nodded. "I have known them my whole life; they are good people. It seems like your dad, and my mother were boyfriend and girlfriend when they were in high school. So it makes us sisters, kinda, I guess," Jolene said and with a contagious giggle. I had to laugh, she had an infectious laugh, and I liked her. "Don't pay any attention to those other girls; they are all stuck up and think they are better than the rest of us," Jolene said in a whisper. "I had to smile; I could tell Jolene was someone who took no crap off anyone, especially snotty girls. "Here you go," Jolene said as she handed me the box she had placed my shirt in. "You are going to start school here right," she asked, and I nodded. "Well, I will see you again," Jolene replied, and I said goodbye.

The rest of the weekend I spent reading my book. I had a lot of questions about Mr. Whitworth and was more intrigued about the Spencer woods.

Monday morning rolled around, and I waited for my ride to the new school at the bus stop. I was nervous, my palms were sweaty, and my legs felt like jello. I just hoped I wasn't treated like the girls in the clothing store treated me, like I was a carrier of leprosy or something worse. I sat near the back and watched the countryside pass by. I was surprised, happily, at the next stop when Jolene climbed on the bus and smiled when she saw me. "May I sit with you," she asked, and I laughed. "Yes, ma'am, you may," I replied, and Jolene laughed out loud. "What classes do you have," Jolene asked, and I handed her my list. "That's great, all your classes are with me," she announced smiling, and I felt a great burden lifted off my shoulders. At least now, I wouldn't be alone; I had someone to talk to. I was ready for lunch hour, and when the bell rang, I met Jolene, and we had lunch together while everyone else, it seemed like, stared at me as if I was an alien or something.

What was the big deal? "Don't pay them no mind Ada, they are all stuck-up little preppies who think they are the world's gift," Jolene said loud enough that people within a hundred feet could hear her. "Well, looks like the new girl finally made it to school," the prissy girl from the clothing store said with a smirk on her face. "Knock it off, Eve or I'll knock that smirk off your dog butt ugly face," Jolene fired off as she stood up. "Oh well, violence again, Jolene," Eve replied, but I noticed she backed up and left. "What is her deal," I asked, and Jolene smiled real big. "I would tell you, but my mother would whip me good for talking like that," Jolene said and began to laugh. "You seen anything around this old town since you've been here," Jolene asked, and I shook my head. "No, not really. I did get a book from the bookstore a few ago. It's an old book about his town," I said, and Jolene shook her head. "Girl, I wasn't talking about reading books about a stuffy run-down old town. I mean something fun," she replied, and I laughed. "Well, I listen every night to my grandfather snoring as I am trying to go to sleep," I replied, and Jolene looked and me and then busted up. "Your one adventures, young lady Ada Malone," she said, followed by a big laugh. Jolene and I talked to her stop. She waved goodbye as the bus pulled away, headed down the road, and I waved back at her with a big smile on my face. I had made a friend, so now I didn't feel entirely alone.

I went up to my room after dinner and began to read the last chapters in the book. If I had known how this book would end when I first began to read it, I would have skipped all but the last three chapters.

Mr. Whitworth wrote of how he searched for his wife every night along the creek and in the woods. He told of strange lights and creatures that roamed the darkness of the woods. He was convinced his wife was there, somewhere in those dark, haunted woods of Harvest Woods. Mr. Whitworth mentioned the old woman called mother DuBoise several times and how she controlled the creatures of the woods. As I got to the last chapter, I could feel the hair on the back of my neck standing up again:

He mentioned the old woman, Mother DuBoise, again and how she helped him cast a spell to try and find his wife, and the price he had to pay for that was his soul.He talked about his dreams, dreams of blood in the trees, and how the creek ran red with blood. He mentioned tiny creatures he called 'Sherips' and how they followed him everywhere. They were mean, malicious creatures who would try and hurt you if they got the chance.He warned of a place he called, "Cantaberry Ring' a circle of rocks where the spirits rose from the ground and came into the town every night. Then he told the story of finding his wife, and he was going to be with her, and if death was the end, so be it.The book ended, and I was more confused now than before. The book was published by Mr. Whitworth's youngest son just before he became very ill and passed away himself.

I knew something was going on around here, and it wasn't just in this house or the woods; it was all over. The town, people, even the old buildings that stood along Main street. 

The next day at lunch, I asked Jolene if she had ever heard of Mr. Whitworth, and she nodded her head. "Heard my grandmother talk about him a few times. She said he went crazy after his wife died. He walked Harvest Woods, which is now called Spencer's woods, every night, calling for her," Jolene said. "You think I could talk to your grandmother," I asked, and Jolene looked and me and then smiled. "I think she would like to meet you. She knew your dad too, you know," Jolene replied as she gathered up her trash from lunch.

 After school, I got off the bus with Jolene, and we walked up the driveway toward her house. It was an old house like my grandparents, except it set right in the middle of the woods. "My mother might give you a ride home, that is, if she is home on time," Jolene said as we walked into the house. I couldn't help but notice the smell of fresh-baked apple pie as we entered the kitchen. "Grandma, I have someone here I would like you to meet," Jolene said, and her grandmother turned around with a smile. " I would know you anywhere; you're John Malone's daughter; you look just like him," she replied as she pointed to a chair. "Ada has some questions she would like to ask you, grandma, would you listen to her," Jolene asked, and the old woman nodded her head. "If I can," she replied as she sat down some hot apple pie in front of Jolene and myself. "What is it you want to know child," she asked, and I swallowed hard and took a breath. "Well, I would like to know about Mr. Whitworth and what happened to his wife," I blurted out, and the look on the old woman's face told me one thing, a taboo subject. "Oh, that. Well, I'll tell you. This is something you should ask your grandmother. Emma will tell you," she said, and I saw in her eyes what I thought was fear. If just the memory from years ago could instill that much fear, maybe I should just let this go, I thought. "Can you tell her anything about Mother DuBoise," Jolene asked, and her grandmother stood up and looked at Jolene. "Don't ever mention that name in this house again, young lady," she said with a tone that made my blood run cold.

I watched as the old woman walked to the kitchen window and looked out. "She was a witch child. An evil woman who sold her soul to the devil years ago. I only saw her once, and it was by accident. I was picking blackberries with my older sisters when she walked up to us. She was tall and spindly with gray hair that dragged the ground. She just stood and looked at us with her evil eyes. We ran home and told mother, and she told us to put salt around our beds for the next week. I remember her telling me never to go into the woods alone. A lot of people had run in's with her. She would come into town and steal people's things. Those that confronted her would eventually pay for it and pay for it dearly," she said as she looked at me. "Child, don't mess with this stuff, or you'll end up like," she said, catching herself and stopping short of finishing her sentence. "Well, what's going on," a voice said from behind me, and I turned to see a tall lady smiling at me. 

"Mother, this is Ada Malone," Jolene said, and the lady reached out her hand, and I shook it. "You look like," she said before she stopped herself and set the bag of groceries down on the kitchen table. "You girls finish your pie, and Ada, we will drive you home," she said, and I did as she asked. "I hear you're going to be staying with your grandparents and going to school here this year," she said, and I nodded. "Yes, ma'am, it looks that way," I replied as I watched the pretty woman removing stuff from the bag on the table. "Well, you'll have to come over for dinner one night. It's been a long time since a Malone was in this house," she added as she looked at me with her huge blue eyes and smiled. "Yes, ma'am, I would like that very much," I replied as I finished my slice of pie. I couldn't help but notice that Mrs. Mayers was staring at me. It was like she wanted to say something but couldn't. I didn't know what it was, but I felt a connection to this woman I had just met, just like the one I felt with Jolene.