By LEON YOUNGBLOOD
“In the ‘Close Encounters of the Weird Kind’ department, the traditional Halloween spooks don’t have much of a chance, this year,” old man Red said. “I mean, just look at it! You’ve got ghosts, of course. You can’t even sit down for ‘em! There are ghost stories in the Old Testament, in Indian lore, in folklore, in every culture worldwide. Have you ever been over to that bridge at Hontubby? There’s supposed to be a ghost there.”
BRIAR CIRCLE
“I’ve driven over it,” I said. “But if I saw any ghosts, they were invisible.”
“Was it at night?”
“No.”
“You ought to go at night. There’s a woman ghost there who cries about something or other.” Red paused, then said matter-of-factly, “I heard her one night.”
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I took his word for it, but did not pursue the matter other than to ask, “Were you scared?”
“Nah. There ain’t a bridge in the country that doesn’t have a woman ghost crying at it, anymore. They’re not much, nowadays. Nowadays zombies are the fashion. According to Haitian tradition, witch doctors brought dead people back to life to work as slaves. They raised enough of ‘em to have a ‘zombie apocalypse.’ But I don’t think the insurance companies have had to pay out any claims for zombie damages.
“And, vampires. Vlad the Impaler purportedly drank human blood. After he died, some people said he didn’t, and it started the vampire myth. But America gets its vampires from Bram Stoker and Bela Lugosi. They’re okay, but they don’t rate up there with Vlad.”
It seemed I should say something in defense of Bela and Brom, so I said, “Well—“, and was immediately intercepted.
“You can take your werewolves, bogeymen, banshees and demons, and put them on the shelf, too. Ghouls—those dreadful creatures that infest cemeteries and eat human flesh—they’re no big deal anymore. And witches. Ever since Elizabeth Montgomery wiggled her nose, it’s been downhill for them.”
Here was a place I could step in. “Do you know Ambrose Bierce’s definition of ‘Witch? 1. An ugly and repulsive old woman in a wicked league with the devil.’ And, ‘2. A beautiful and attractive young woman, in wickedness a league beyond the devil.’”
Red smiled faintly. “That’s funny. Who’s Ambrose Bierce?”
“A dead journalist,” I answered, and let it go. I asked, “Red, you’ve pointed out the impotence of Halloween spooks that made me hide under the bedcovers, when I was a child. We need new terrors for Trick-or-Treat, I guess. Do you have anything to replace the old lot with?”
Red had more than enough 21st century spooks, haints and terrors to replace those of former days, and we will get to them. Meanwhile, what would you replace the tame, toothless old batch of Halloween terrors with? Let me know at llyoungblood@outlook.com. Please put “briar circle” as the subject.
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