The rain let up as they reached the gate, and the mist dissolved as they pulled Clarence through. Once outside the cemetery, the stricken boy's breathing returned to normal, and he was able to stand and move on his own. The three ran from the graveyard as fast as they could. They never went back there again at night. Later, when they looked at the graveyard through the church windows on Sunday mornings, they could still feel the penetrating cold.
From that night on, Tom and Edgar sat in storytelling circles and heard that old tale told and retold. They no longer thought it was just a harmless story. They vowed never to play a prank like that again. They had come to believe that Clarence was right. Nothing good could ever come from disturbing the dead!
Under the Bed
There was a peculiar old custom in Kentucky of putting a birthday person under the bed on his or her birthday. The more times the person was put under the bed, the more he or she was loved and the more good luck would come to the birthday person the following year. Some people believed that this practice should stop at the child's ninth birthday because bad luck would come after that. It was said that the child would never grow after the age of nine if the custom continued past that year, but no reason was given for why this particular age was the cut-off point or what might cause the bad luck from then on.
This practice is mostly forgotten now, but it persisted into the middle 1900s. In fact, each of us experienced it, but we never heard where it came from.
The custom of putting the birthday person under the bed spoiled all the fun for Coy Norcliff on his birthday each year. He couldn't remember the year he was put under the bed for the first time. The years ran together in his mind; but from years in his former home, he could remember dust bunnies and a slight feeling of claustrophobia. He hadn't enjoyed these experiences, but he hadn't been terrified either. He only felt uncomfortable then. The terror had come in this house last year for the first time, and he hadn't been able to forget it.
His relatives had come for dinner, and they had brought presents. They all had an enjoyable time until the celebration was almost over. He was taken completely by surprise when his two older cousins grabbed him. His parents and his aunt and uncle had watched and laughed as they pulled him to the floor and pushed him under the bed. Coy had struggled violently and finally managed to shove his cousins away and escape by crawling out the other side. He was pale, shaking, and gasping for air when he emerged.
“Don't you ever do that to me again,” he said to his cousins, his voice quivering with rage.
Everybody was surprised at his reaction.
“It was just a joke, Coy,” his mom said. “Why are you so upset?”
“There is something under there,” he told her. “It's something awful.”
His cousins didn't believe he could possibly be serious. They began to laugh and tease him.
“A monster!” said one cousin.
“A ghost?” asked the other.
Coy didn't bother to answer them. He knew no one would believe him. He said as little as possible until his relatives left. Then, when his parents asked, he told them what had happened.
Coy had never talked about it before, but he had seen signs of the ghost from the first day he and his family moved into this farmhouse. It began with a tapping on the floor under his bed as soon as he lay down at night. After he managed to get to sleep, he would wake to soft moaning sounds and the covers being pulled off his bed. Once he heard a noise on the floor beside his bed and rolled to the edge to see what it was. He glanced down and saw something on the floor, but it was gone in an instant. He was too frightened to remember many details, but it looked like a girl with long, stringy hair.
Today, when his cousins had pushed him under the bed, he had seen the thing clearly. The pale, ghostly face with rotting teeth and long, stringy hair was right there, inches from his face. It was reaching for him as he pushed his way out from under the bed. It was trying to take his breath away!
Coy was relieved at first to be telling his parents about his experiences, but by the time he finished, he could tell they didn't believe him. His mom explained that all old houses have noises of their own, and his dad mumbled something about how he would eventually get adjusted to his surroundings and not be frightened at night.
“There is a logical reason for everything,” his mom told him, and his father agreed.
If they thought they were comforting him, they were wrong. Coy disregarded everything they said. There were no logical reasons for the things that were happening in his room. Something was definitely under his bed, and he did not want to join it on his ninth birthday next year. He remembered that he shouldn't have to worry, though. This silly custom was supposed to stop at age nine.