“A horror writer, huh?” Peggy’s gaze revealed little behind her neon blue spectacles. “Well, you seem curious enough, Kimber. Persistent, too, which I’m sure you’ll need to succeed.” I couldn’t tell if this was a dig. “I’m surprised you made it all the way up to Vermont. That’s good initiative for a freshman. But, why focus on horror? That’s ghastly stuff… isn’t it?”
“Not just horror,” I corrected Peggy, retrieving a worn leather notebook from my bag. “I try to combine genres. My style is more unique.”
“Hmm…” Something about the pause that followed seemed vaguely disapproving. “Isn’t it better to be specialized, doll? Rather than a jack of all trades? But master of none?”
“Perhaps,” I felt a rush of annoyance. “Now, about the letters?” My time was limited. I had a movie date with Eric back home in Massachusetts later this evening. “Phyllis – your mother – she had a deal with this friend of hers that croaked? Edna Goldberg?”
“That’s correct, doll,” Peggy munched a gingerbread cookie and sipped her pumpkin coffee. “Edna and my mother were best friends. As they grew old, they made a pact. Whoever died first would contact the other to let them know what came after this life.”
I rifled through some questions:
“Edna died just over one year ago?”
“Quite right.”
“And that’s when the first letter arrived?”
“Yes. Precisely.”
“And there were multiple?”
“Oh, yes. They show up in the mailbox. We’ve received quite a few letters over the past year. Always in a pastel blue envelope. Edna’s favorite color, according to mom.”
“Pastel blue?” I scribbled this detail in my notebook. “And how would you describe the content of these letters, exactly?”
“Hmm…” Peggy frowned. “That’s a good question.” She seemed uncomfortable. “Edna was a bit of a kook, you know? Especially as she aged. Both Edna and mom struggled with dementia. The letters were the same as her personality, I suppose.” Peggy grunted, raising her thigh from the chair before sighing contentedly. “They were, uh… kinda weird?” I realized with dismay that she had ripped ass. “Some were lovely. Others were cryptic. The letters gave mom advice, mainly. That’s what happened with the lottery. The letter told mom to pick those numbers, specifically.”
“Right,” I was trying not to breathe. “And the story got picked up in the Gazette. Ghostly Friend Helps Pittsford Woman Win Big.” I took the newspaper from my bag and pointed. “As soon as I saw the title, I had to reach out.”
“It’s not a ghost,” Peggy snorted. “Are you serious, doll?” My cheeks turned apple. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.” I wanted to say something snarky, but instead sipped my coffee. “This is the work of some motivated lout with a creative streak and far too much time on their hands. A real sicko… I have a suspect or two in mind. But, it’s no ghost.”
“Wait a sec,” I insisted. “Didn’t you say you’ve been watching the mail box? And you have no idea how the letters are being delivered?”
“That’s true,” Peggy acknowledged. “Like I mentioned on the phone: I had my neighbor install one of those doorbell cameras. And, for the life of me, the letters just seem to appear in the box. It’s a mystery, I’ll give you that. But it’s not a ghost. We’ll figure out this prankster’s methods… and their nasty game will be up.”
“Can I see the letters?”
“Sure thing,” Peggy began to shift through a manila folder that she had placed on the table. “I’ve kept them all pretty much in order. See here,” she unfurled a pale white piece of paper and passed it to me. “This was the first one that we got a year ago. ‘Pie’ was Edna’s nickname for mom, and it scared the jeepers out of her, as you can imagine. If I’m being honest? It bothered me quite a bit, too.”
My eyes narrowed as I scanned the strange message written out in capital letters:
PIE IT’S EDNA IT’S EDNA YOUR FRIEND YOUR BEST FRIEND I AM ON THE OTHER SIDE IT IS NOT GOOD NOT GOOD YOU MUST STAY THERE PLEASE STAY WHERE YOU ARE PLEASE STAY DO NOT COME STAY ALIVE FOREVER
“Uhh…” I didn’t know what to say. My fingers quivered slightly as I read the note again. “Bizarre. Like you warned me.” I glanced one last time before handing the letter back to Peggy and transcribing the words in my notebook. “Kinda off-putting, actually.”
“Yup,” Peggy nodded. “Bizarre indeed. But they weren’t all like that. Mom’s been lonely ever since Edna died, and the next few notes were more thoughtful. Kinder, I guess you could say? They made mom feel better even as her own health deteriorated.” Peggy handed me a second note. “See what I mean?”
I squinted at the uneven lettering:
PIE IT’S EDNA I MISS YOU PIE I MISS YOU SO MUCH I’M SORRY YOU’RE UNWELL YOU MUST KEEP FIGHTING PIE YOU MUST KEEP BREATHING PIE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU
“I guess that one is less…” It took me a moment to find the word. “Sinister?” I returned the letter to Peggy and jotted the lines in my notebook. “Can you show me the one that caused the buzz? With the lottery numbers? I have a date tonight that I can’t be late for.”
“How nice,” Peggy smiled and sipped her coffee, hints of jealously flashing in her eyes. “A scone like you must get a lot of callers.” She burped and reached down to itch her varicose veins. “Anyway… Here you go, doll.” Peggy pushed a third note across the table. “That message was worth five hundred grand.”
PIE IT’S ME STAY ALIVE DON’T COME GOD IS CRUEL PIE YOU MUST PLAY THE STATE LOTTO TONIGHT 7, 12, 16, 24, 33, 39 PP 11
“What the heck?” I mumbled.
“Nobody’s actually seen any of these besides you, me and mom herself,” Peggy seemed weary and faraway. “I wasn’t ready to share them when the reporters came a-knockin’.”
“Article mentioned that. Surprised they went to print without seeing the evidence.”
“Most folks here think it’s ME,” Peggy sighed. “Can you imagine? Like I have nothing better to do? Than to write fake letters to my dying mother? I’m gonna solve this and hush those wagging tongues once and for all.”
“Hold on,” I frowned. “How do you explain it? She played the lottery numbers and won.”
“She did win, doll,” Peggy confirmed. “Mom won five hundred thousand dollars cash.”
“Exactly. But if it’s a prank… and someone is messing with you… how’s that possible?”
“How the heck should I know?” Peggy became indignant. “Haven’t you ever heard of a little thing called coincidence, Kimber?” I watched her squirm in her seat, hoping it wasn’t an indicator of soon-to-be-passed gas. “Like I said. There’s no such thing as ghosts.”
“So what did you do?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“With all the money?”
“Oh,” Peggy scratched her veins. “We did what the letters suggested. We’ve used most of the money to get mom the best doctors in the area. Her leukemia is at a very advanced stage at this point. She’s bed-ridden upstairs.”
Peggy shifted in her seat, letting out another toot. I was on the verge of saying something rude when we both turned at the sound of a car crunching over the gravel driveway.
“Speak of the devil. That’s the nurse. Mom can’t move anymore. But we pay for in-home help to care for her around the clock.” The door opened: a stout, middle-aged woman with beautiful mahogany skin walked in from the cold. “Esther, dear. Say hi to Kimber!”
“Hello, Kimber,” the woman smiled warmly as she hung her coat in the closet.
“You want coffee, Esther?” Peggy pointed to the pot on the stove. “It’s pumpkin.”
“No, no thank you,” Esther replied politely, lifting a case of what I assumed were medical supplies and starting up the staircase. “I’ll be upstairs with Mammy Phyllis.” The stairs creaked as Esther walked to the second floor of the house. “Nice to meet you, Kimber.”
“You as well,” I glanced at the time.
“Esther’s an angel. She takes the best care of mom. It’s expensive, though, and we’re blowing through winnings faster than I’d have thought. At least I was able to fix the boiler.”
“Right,” I had seen enough, and my mind wandered to my date with Eric. “You’ve been really helpful, Peggy, and I appreciate everything. I think I have what I need.”
“Found your inspiration?”
“Something like that.”
“Glad I could help,” Peggy seemed pleased. “And before you go? I wanna show you the most recent letter. Your tale being a ghost story and all. This one gave me the creeps.”
“Oh?” I felt uneasy. “The creeps?”
“Big time,” Peggy was ruffling through her folder. She slid a final note across the tabletop. “Tell me that isn’t kinda scary?” I reached forward – reluctantly – and brought the letter to my eyes. “I wanted to burn the damn thing.”
PIE IT’S EDNA PIE THIS IS OUR LITTLE SECRET DON’T SHOW THIS TO ANYONE BUT PEGGY ONLY PEGGY PLEASE PIE PLEASE YOU MUSN’T SHOW THIS TO ANYONE ELSE OTHERWISE I’LL HAVE TO KILL YOU AND KILL THEM TOO
“Excuse me?” I put the letter down and stared angrily at Peggy. “What the heck?” Was she messing with me? This was getting very uncomfortable. “I’m not sure what-“
The relative peace of Peggy’s home was shattered by a bloodcurdling scream of fear from upstairs. The two of us nearly fell from our chairs, and my mug slipped from my hand, dousing the pine flooring in pumpkin coffee.
I seriously considered booking it the hell outta there before some primordial (and frankly misguided) sense of right and wrong kicked in, causing me to race up the stairwell alongside Peggy to see exactly what had happened.
It’s very difficult to describe what I witnessed when we opened the door to the bedroom.
Esther – the friendly nurse – was the one screaming. It seemed that she was being eaten alive in the corner of the room. Except… I couldn’t see what was consuming her… massive chunks of flesh were being ripped from her body and disappearing into thin air.
The helpless woman flailed miserably as handfuls of her cheek and jaw were pulled away in gooey red bunches. Her eyes were suddenly gone… Then her lips. Peggy and I wailed in horror as Esther’s mangled body collapsed in a pile on the bedroom floor.
“Mom!” Peggy bayed.
I turned away from the mess of gore that was Ester’s limp form and observed the matriarch of the household. Peggy’s mom, Phyllis, was kneeling by the window. Phyllis was butt-naked and otherwise exactly as anticipated: thin, frail and clearly sick. The window was open, and blustery November air billowed into the room, making me shiver.
“Please, Edna…” Phyllis groaned, begging for mercy. “Please?” I saw Phyllis’ arms pull back and away from her body. Very roughly. “Ouch! Stop it, Edna… please… you’re hurting me!” Some invisible entity seemed to force her neck down, holding it against the window sill. “Stop! I didn’t do it! I didn’t show anyone! I’m your best friend, Edna… Don’t take me there!”
I watched in disbelief as the window came crashing down with such force against the back of her neck that it lopped the old woman’s head from her body. The crown of her torso must’ve fallen somewhere outside, and her naked, decapitated corpse slid downward, splashing the floral wallpaper with crimson fluid.
Peggy was yelling like she was batshit. Telling me to run and call the cops. I felt dizzy, and realized that I was about to pass out.
Suddenly: Peggy cries in pain and begins to swat desperately at something in front of her. The woman stumbles back – choking on mouthfuls of panic – before tumbling over the second floor railing. Her body bends awkwardly when she impacts the landing, snapping her spine like an accordion… I hear her buttocks emit a final, discordant note.
I’m sitting in the car now. My bone-white hands grip the wheel as the engine rumbles. Its idle purring makes me jump. My body is paralyzed with terror as my eyes watch exhaust fumes rise in the rear view mirror.
I should call the police… but what would I say? They’ll blame me for this psycho shit!
And what about Eric? I could try and explain it to him… But I’m scared to drive home…