Ghost Town

(Inspired by Anita Marie’s quote from Chief Seattle.)

Dr. V’s words plagued me as I winged my way across the land. As is the case in Lemuria, normal laws of nature were skewed. The thick equatorial jungle where I had encountered Dr. Von Saxonburg and the jaguar quickly transitioned into a northern conifer forest, ocean fog spiraling through the trees. I almost missed Duwamish and sharply banked to make my landing. My leg throbbed where the jaguar had scratched me. Dr. V. had said that some wounds don’t heal quickly. I was not sure what she meant or even if I wanted to know.

I landed at the Night Riders’ livery stable, just on the edge of town. It was closed up and dark. I thought I heard the dull thud of shifting horses’ hooves but I could not be sure of that. It was just after dusk, and the sunlight, at least what was left of it, was obscured by the fog. I heard the moan of a buoy and the slapping of water on the dock. I walked between some weathered board-and-batten buildings, each as dark and lifeless as the livery. Several small boats were moored but their pilots and crews were no where to be seen.

Where is everyone? Duwamish Bay, at least the last time I visited, was a bustling town. It was if death had come for a visit and everyone was hiding.

I hurried to the center of town. Between the Post Office and the Mercantile store was the Duwamish Bay Inn. Every window was dark. In front of the City Hall was a totem pole. Painted in white, red, and black, the carved pole of forest animals towered over me. At the very top was the Thunder Bird, wings outstretched and beak wide open as if to speak.

“The dead have power too” I spun around. I could see no one. “The dead have power too” I turned back. The whisper came from the Thunder Bird.

“Are you speaking to me? Who are you? Where is everyone?” There was no answer.

I shivered and it was not from the cold and dampness.

I ran to the front door of the Inn and pounded on it. “Hello? Ida? Are you there? Anybody? Let me in!” My voice was rising to a panic.

Then, I heard a rustle behind me. I turned from the door and stared into the descending greyness of the town square. I thought I saw a movement–then another, and then another one. Figures were moving about, transparent and silent. They looked through me with hollow eyes, as if I wasn’t there–as if I were dead.

I sank to the wooden steps on the Inn’s porch. I hugged my knees. As if I were dead… I felt as if all life had abandoned me— all friends, all allies. I felt worthless and as if every good thing I had even done in my life had suddenly been rendered irrelevant. I was as dead and forgotten as the ghosts roaming around me.

I ached to the core of my being.

Then, I remember the bag at my side and Dr. V’s words. I reached into my bag and found the candlestick and a box of matches.

With trembling hands, I struck the match and touched it to the candlewick.

Lori Gloyd © 2007