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Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Excerpts from the Plague Years the Down in the Dirt Jan.-April 2021 issues collection book		get the 420 page Jan.-April 2021 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# perfect-bound paperback book:

Moonlit Ghosts

Jason Waddle

    No wolves heard tonight. The crickets on the outside of the house were the loudest sound. On the inside of the old man’s house was the thumping sound of Molly Shield’s head being dragged behind her body. Twelve steps to reach the basement’s bottom floor. The old man was aged, so he was slower. Left over from Big Al’s youth was his strength. Al Travers was still ferociously strong at sixty-six. Big Al...
    Al Travers was naturally strong. At fifteen years old he could bench press 555 pounds five times. In high school, Travers was somewhat okay with the guys his age, but not at all with the girls. Never. Al was as ugly as he was strong. His voice was made fun of because he sounded like Elmer Fudd. Along with Al’s bad teeth, a foul smell (perhaps from the decaying teeth), Travers stood six foot nine inches by the time he reached twenty years old. After high school he was known as the mangler. Why? He either broke or dislocated fellow wrestling opponent’s arms, shoulders, or legs–most likely on purpose. No matter the injury, the opponents were left hurt and Al struggled to hide a smile. The odd giggle gave it away. Finally, coaches kicked him off the team before he got out of his last year of high school–which was a surprise to most folks. Farm life was the destination. The town’s folk say Al Travers was not that bright. He was suited for butchering and farm work.
     He single-handedly dragged her lifeless body– slowly, but with ease. On the farm, Al was used to slaughtering the defenceless. Even at a young age, being kind only to kill gave Travers an almost sexual satisfaction on the farm. Sadly, there was no difference between Molly Shield and a pig being slaughtered. Not on this night. Molly was Big Al’ pig now. He would make her bleed for being so beautiful and he would punish God for making him impotent.
    Travers lifted Molly’s body onto a slab used for butchering. He stuck his pinky finger in his right ear for a brief moment. It made a window like screech as he twisted his finger about in his ear. Relaxing both hands in his trouser pockets, he hawked up a greenish-yellow flehm and spat in a bucket just below Molly’s head. Old man Travers limped over and around to the sink to wash his hands. He was hungry and would need to eat before the dismemberment. He didn’t always eat his victims. Al was a picky eater. This one had put up a fight, unlike the others. Al was hurt this time.
    The screen door slammed shut. Molly left the diner. She walked slowly to her car. It had been a long 7:30 am to 7:30 pm shift. The moon was visible at 8:00 pm and the car wouldn’t start like it had earlier this morning. Molly slammed the car door while getting out–
    “Fuck-fuck-fuck...!”
    Al was watching from his pickup truck. He got out and approached.
    “Mi-mi-miss...e-e-verything ok?”
    “Hi! I-ah...”
    “She won’t s-s-start?”
    “uh-no. It’s heading to the bone yard,” Molly said with a mocking tone.
    “Let me looks–huh!”
    Al reached for Molly’s keys. While lifting up the hood of the car he put the keys in his pocket. Molly came around and asked if he could fix it. She switched between biting her nails and combing her fingers through her long blonde hair.
    “One hundred p-p-p-p-percent. I can f-f-fix it, b-b-but the t-tools to f-f-f-fix it are in my g-g-g-garage.”
    “That’s my luck,” Molly lipped.
    “Tell you what, go back into the diner and I will bring my tow truck to get your car.”
    Al had talked with a lisp since childhood, but when his mind was clear on something, he could speak more fluently–without the lisp or stuttering.
    “Oh, Sir, I really appreciate all this and I will pay you. I can’t go back in there because my ex-boyfriend is in there. He’s kind of stalking me.”
    “I completely understand, Molly. You are safer with me, then.”
    “Thanks Mister–thank you so much. How much do I owe you?”
    “Call me, Al”
    “Sorry. How much can I pay you for your trouble, Al?”
    “Let’s say you pay for some gas and it doesn’t have to be today, d-d-d-dear.”
    “Thank you, Mister...I mean Al.”
    “Don’t mention it. Hop in the truck.”
    “Oh shit, my keys!”
    “I handed them back,” Al reassured.
    “There’s another problem I’ve created,” Molly gasped.
    Molly got inside the red Chevy. Big Al opened the truck door but halted to get in when–
    “MOLLY–GET BACK HERE.”
    “Stay here, dear,” Al Warned.
    “Okay.”
    Molly’s ex-boyfriend Jeff was big at six foot four, but Al made him look tiny. It lasted all of eight seconds. Al had crushed the boy’s hand. The sound of eggshells breaking and the boy’s yelp gave Travers a calm feeling. The kid ran for his truck and took off without getting his friends in the diner. Al and Molly drove off in the Chevy in the opposite direction.
    It was now dark. Between the two was an awkward feeling of safety. Molly was relieved and surprised that her ex-boyfriend listened to Al. She didn’t see what had happened.
    “You must have a way with people, Mr. Travers.”
    He kept looking forward.
    “You just have to know your timing is all!”
    Al slammed his right elbow into Molly’s temple. She slumped unconscious on to the seat. He reached the farm and parked just outside the garage. There never was a tow truck. There was no intention of helping. Al just had an eye for vulnerable animals. There was no plan to kill Molly until an opportunity presented itself back in the parking lot. He took it. He dragged Molly out of the truck–dragging her to the side of the house which placed them in the middle with the garage on one side. As Molly’s body was being scrapped by the rocks and dirt, she woke.
    Molly reached for a broken piece of metal.
    Big Al leaned forward to unlock the side door.
    “YOU FUCK,” she yelled while slicing Travers’s left hand.
    Al failed to let out a cry, but his entire face seemed to collapse. He was near rage, but Molly quickly stabbed his right leg. She couldn’t get the metal fragment out of Al’s leg. Molly was smacked unconscious, again. Al unclenched his fist and ripped off a piece of his shirt and tied it around his bleeding hand and ripped out the shrapnel from his leg.
    “I love a f-f-f-fighter. Fucking...”
    Al opened the side door while dragging Molly behind him.
    Molly was still laying on the slab. Al had his back turned to her. He was washing his hands in the sink that was five feet away from Molly. All kinds of cutting tools were in place on the wall and spread around the sink area. Al had stopped the bleeding. It was not in too deep. To Molly, it must have felt deeper. What stopped the metal piece from going deeper into Al’s leg was the cutting of her own fingers in the process. Al dried his hands and reached for a bone saw. He felt full of confidence. Big Al turned around stunned–
    Molly was gone.
    “Don’t you remember me? You’re going to remember me, little Al,” giggling.
    “W-w-w-where the f-f-fuck are you b-b-b-bitch?”
    “Do you stutter in relation to your limp dick, little Al?... More giggling.
    “I am going to s-s-skin...I am going to gut you a-a-a-alive...”
    “You already did, little Al!”
    “S-s-stop calling me l-l-l-l-ittle,” Al hollered pathetically.
    “Such a big sausage in your pants, yet it’s never risen since your mother was alive, or was it your father that excited you, little Al.” The giggling got so loud Al covered his ears.
    “S-s-s-stop” ...thud! Al lay unconscious.
    Al woke up feeling dizzy. He was unclothed and tied up to a rusted harrow. The pain was immense. It was no longer obvious if he was male or female from the mid-section down anymore. Nine wolves approached out of the fog and he knew one must be Molly. The leader of the pack approached. She could communicate with Al with her eyes, but Al could only listen to the wolf. The moon was full and hungry.
    “I know you remember me now. You never really needed this body part. We started there, no Al.”
    The wolf lunged with curious speed and instinct. After a few screams the only sound to hear were the crickets and the howling of wolves. The largest wolf bit off Al’s hands.
    The top headline for the town’s paper reads:
Nine Bodies Recovered at the Travers’s Farm. 8 Female and 1 Male. Owner of the property remains missing.

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