Loving Arms Can Haunt You

I will remember one summer at the Inn when I was six for as long as I live. As usual we children filled our days playing with all the local kids, biking, fishing, and picking blue berries and raspberries that grew along our fence. We had the best beach on the lake so everyone would come and swim there. It was always crowded. I remember after a full morning on our beach, John, Tony, Georgie and I ran across the road to the corner store, the Bait Shop. At the door we all stopped and pulled out our pockets. I was a smart six-year-old. I never carried my money in my pockets. “Who has money?” John, Tony and Georgie would all say in unison or almost unison. They all looked at what they just pulled out of their pockets. A lot of stones, shells, dried worms and some change. I didn’t pull out mine because I knew nothing would be in them. Then they all looked at me. “Billie. You have money in one of your socks. Momma gave it to you this morning and I saw you put it there.” Never have your sister be an eyewitness to anything you want kept secret. I blew air through my clenched lips like I always do when experiencing stress. “But I was saving my money for a super soaker,” I whined. “Come on, Billie. Momma said you couldn’t have one anyway.” Then it became the ‘she did not - did to’ debate, eventually ending with me giving up my two dollars. We went inside and carefully picked out our candy and put it up on the counter. Mrs. Josephine Baits who ran the Bait Shop Grocery Store took our money and gave us each our own little bags so that we could divvy up what we bought. She was used to having a lot of little kids in her store, especially us. Mrs. Baits had been a teacher when the one room schoolhouse had been in operation during segregation. Then she went to work for the public school when the schools were integrated. When she retired, she took over her father’s grocery store, The Bait Shop. She was tall, heavy and brown in color. She wore glasses that she would peer over when she spoke to you. If you wanted to know what was going on in our little village all you had to do was make a trip over to the Bait Shop. She had all the news. “I see Pete bought a new truck,” she said peering over her glasses to John. “Yes, ma’am.” John kind of rocked from side to side. He wanted to get to his candy. We all did but you couldn’t speed up or walk away from Mrs. Baits. She was going to grill you for information. “Did he get it in Grand Rapids?” “No ma’am. He got it in Detroit.” “Oh, he probably special ordered it. You don’t know how much he paid for it do you?” She was hoping that John or Tony overheard their father talking about it. “No ma’am.” She may have interrogated the enemy during the war because this line of questioning went on for a while until someone else came in the store. We were glad to hear the tinkle of the little bell over the door indicating a new customer had entered and that we were free to go. We quickly made our escape out the door and sat in the grass beside the store. We divvied up our purchases and then went about eating our candy. Someone must have dropped a dollar in their haste to get away from Mrs. Baits because Georgie found it laying in the grass and she and John went back in the store for more candy and interrogation. Me and Tony were sitting in the grass waiting. I was happily chewing away on my Airhead. Tony reached in his bag and gave me an extra piece of his candy for letting us have my two dollars. “Here Billie. But don’t tell John or Georgie that I gave it to you.” He handed me a Kit Kat. He looked around and finding no one else in earshot he said, “Someday I’m going to marry you.” Then he kissed me on my cheek. I was horrified and said, “Ewwww. Oh no you’re not.” With that I got up and ran into the store. Tony ran after me to make sure I didn’t tell. Later that day Georgie and I were playing skating rink in the attic. We had taken off our shoes and with a running start we slid across the floor to see who could slide the longest. We squealed with laughter. When we got tired of ‘skating’ we decided to snoop. The Inn had all kinds of little nooks and crannies. Except for the basement, which we never went down there because it was creepy, we often explored every room unless there was a guest in it. Up in the attic room there was one mysterious door that instead of a number hanging on it, there was a sign on it that said ‘Private – Keep Out’. It didn’t keep me and Georgie from trying the door every time we visited, but it was always locked. Eventually me and Georgie gave the door the name, ‘Private’. On that same day Georgie had just given Private a good tug. It still didn’t budge. We stood there looking at it in our socks. “What do you think’s in Private, Georgie?”, I asked. “Uncle James said it’s a room with monsters, witches and ghosts. That’s why they have to lock it”, said Georgie. Being the oldest by almost two years, she felt like she had to scare me from time to time. I guess my face told her that she hit her target and she ran out the door and down the steps laughing all the way. Scared that she may be right I ran off behind her. “Aaaaaaaaah! I screamed my head off. But because of my slippery socks I didn’t quite make it through the door and ran right into it. I hit my head, fell flat on my back and saw flashes of light. I almost fainted. While lying on the floor I heard a creaking noise coming from the direction of Private. I slowly turned my head bringing it into view. I saw that Private was now open, and an old black man in old fashion clothes was peeking out of it, looking at me. Still laying on the floor I started screaming again, “Aaaaaaaaah! and I could have sworn he did too before he disappeared into thin air. Then I did faint.