The Lonely Light by Darlene Long

8/12/2019 The Lonely Light by Darlene Long

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/the-lonely-light-by-darlene-long 1/12

1

Copyright 2014

Darlene Long



2

Thunder was rumbling overhead and lightning split the sky but

rain was not yet falling. There was no one anyplace in sight as

the night fog drifted lightly through the trees like attacking

ghosts. Trees swayed gently like shadowy tall phantoms in thenight leaning together and whispering secrets, secrets about the

house that seemed to be clawing it’s way out of the darkness that

grew up around it, slowly being pulled into the darkness over the

decades it had been standing there.

The creatures of the night were alive and dancing in it’s front

yard, trees moving in the wind, grass swaying and shadowsdancing in moon light that came through the clouds, then

vanished again, leaving the yard around the house shrouded

again in mysterious night.

The first floor of the house was dark, the windows staring

soullessly, hiding the secrets inside their walls. The second

floor was dark also except for one window that had a small lampsitting on an old wooden table which obviously was important to

it’s owner because it was still sitting there in the room after

years of service had stripped away the finish and left it with raw

wood peeling like old skin, stained with drips from candles.

An old woman was in the bed next to the stand and she was

breathing hard, tears of desperation running down her cheeks asshe struggled to sit up in bed again and take another drink of

water from the pitcher on the stand. She hurt so much as she

reached for it and found it to be empty. She began to cry. She

was too sick and weak to go down the hall, down the stairs and



3

to the kitchen where she had a cooler full of cold water. She sat

back in bed and cried, shaking her head in despair. If it was her

time, why did she have to suffer so much?

Outside it began to rain, coming down in hard bursts as a

figure drifted through the dark toward the house. A long dress

glowed in the moonlight as the figure went up the steps and to

the front door which swung inward gently as the shape of a

woman walked lightly into the house. She drifted into the living

room and a chill filled the air as she passed the old worn mirror

and the little couch with it’s cover tearing from age.

A darkness hung in the air as the figure moved up the stairs

and came to the door where the old woman was in her bed. She

was sweating and as the figure came into the room she gave a

trembling smile.

“Charlotte, I’m so glad you came!”

“I saw the light in your window again.”

The old woman reached out and her hands grasped Charlotte’s

cold, but welcoming, and the old woman struggled to breath. “I

just can’t get up, not this time. Can you please…”

“Of course.” Charlotte said soothingly. She got up from the

bed and took the glass from the night stand and vanished out the

door. “I’ll just be a moment Rhoda, hang on.” She said gently.

She heard Rhoda call behind her. “You’re a gem, Charlotte.



4

Rhoda felt the sweat on the bed sheets as she looked up at the

ceiling. Her aged hand caressed the wall of the house and she

began to feel tears welling up. Every bone and joint ached and

she could not get out of bed any longer. The house, so long herfriend, was now just a place she was trapped and would never

leave.

She remembered so long ago coming to live here when her

father had left it to her. It was a towering big house that both

frightened and fascinated her. She had claimed this bedroom as

her own and put the worn old night stand in it with the littlelamp on it. They had never moved since that time, and the

shade on the lamp had turned yellow, torn and was tattered from

age, but Rhoda left it alone. It was one with the house somehow.

Then there was the night when she had met the other children.

She had been playing with the doll that stood on her dresser,

now covered with webs from time since her feeble old handscould not dust it off.

The bedroom mirror was a big one that hung just high enough

so that her young head could not see directly into it. That night

she had finished combing the doll’s hair and had climbed up to

look in the mirror and to do her own hair, then she had seen

them.

They looked at her from inside the mirror and a hand reached

out to her, stopping at the glass. Rhoda was not afraid of them,



5

instead she reached up and touched the hand back and suddenly

they were in the room with her.

There was Jack, the little chubby boy who liked to play

different characters and he could be so funny making believe he

was Rhoda’s family, making fun of hem in different voices.

Mary had long brown hair and her eyes had a sad look to them.

She was quiet and had little hands that always seemed to find

things like Rhoda’s mother’s jewelry, and Jack called her

Raccoon Face. There was also Squeaks, or at least that was

what they called him because of his odd voice.

They would come in and play in her room and sometimes they

would get so energetic that Rhoda’s mother would come up to

the room and open the door, finding Rhoda sitting there, and she

would collect her jewelry and mutter at Rhoda for taking it.

Rhoda told her father about her friends once but he smiled and petted her head and dismissed her stories.

Jack had told Rhoda one day that her father had been worried

over the taxes he owed on the house, and so Rhoda had

reassured him when she talked to him again. “How did you

know about the taxes?” He had asked in a worried voice.”

When Rhoda smiled and told him that Jack had overheard himtalking and told her, he had just stared at her for a moment then

slowly walked away.



6

Later that night father came to her room as her friends were

playing a game. The other children had so many odd games that

Rhoda was surprised and she loved the hours she spent with

them. Father had walked into the room and looked around, buthe did not say anything to Mary, Jack or Squeaky, he just

walked around the room looking and they did not pay attention

to him. Rhoda watched him, and he pried gently at the mirror

on the wall. “This ugly old thing needs to go in the garbage.”

Father had said.

Rhoda was horrified and she protested loudly till he hadlooked at her, worried, and quietly said “Ok, if it means that

much to you.”

Rhoda knew if the mirror was gone so would be her friends.

Mary was playing with a little jeweled necklace one night

when Rhoda’s mother had been busy with shopping and mother

had put her hands on her hips and firmly asked Rhoda where it

was. She replied “Mary had it last night.” Mother sighed.

“Rhoda Gray, tell “Mary” not to take my things anymore and

bring it to me. I have a lock on my jewelry box now, and Mary

won’t be able to borrow my things.”

Rhoda went up to the mirror and politely said to the reflection

of her room that Mary should not take jewelry anymore. At

dinner Rhoda came down the stairs and heard her mother talking

loudly to her father.



7

“There’s no way! My jewelry box was locked and Rhoda

could not have moved that fast. I noticed it, and minutes later it

was back. You explain how her imaginary friend did it!”

Rhoda didn’t care, she was happy mother had her necklace back.

The winter came and the days were gray, but not too cold and

Rhoda would come home from school and run out back of the

house into the overgrowth behind the house. No one but her

family knew there was a cemetery there and Rhoda would hop

he fence and run among the stones and her friends would join

her, sometimes with some other children. Rhoda would staythere for hours, checking in from time to time and her father

shook his head once and said “I never saw a little girl so happy

to run around a graveyard alone all the time.”

Father was very upset one night and mother was in tears. The

taxes were overdue on the land and unless father could pay them

soon the house was going to be taken. Rhoda sat in her room onthe verge of tears wondering what would become of her friends

if she had to move. The old mirror would never go with them

and it would not matter anyway. She was crying when Jack,

Mary and Squeaky came to her room. She told them about the

taxes, and Jack shrugged.

“He could always go to the old crypt and get the moneyhidden in the big tall vase. There should be plenty there. The

old man who used to live by the tracks has been dead for years;

he ain’t comin’ back for it.”



8

Rhoda was shocked and looked at him. “Old man? What old

man?!”

Mary giggled. “Oh the old crazy man. He was an officer in

the Union army and he made good on some gold mines but he

would never spend the money, he stuck it in a vase in the crypt

and sealed it. He finally died of old age but there was a rumor

the money was cursed so no one touched it. It’s a big huge vase

in the wall of the crypt.”

Rhoda sat and thought about this, then she began to get caught

up in the stories they all began to tell each other trying to scare

each other till bedtime when they all faded into the mist of the

night.

Father came to put Rhoda to bed and she told him what Jack

had said. He sat slowly on the bed and just stared at her and had

her repeat the story. She saw the thoughtful look on her father’s

face and he finally said as if talking to no one in particular, “it’s

a desperate thing to do, but I’m a desperate man.”

Rhoda smiled as he got up to leave, then he turned to her

again. “Rhoda, are you afraid of the graveyard at night?”

Rhoda sat bolt upright with her eyes wide. “No sir!” She said.

Father then nodded. “It may be wrong…but I have to know. I

just have to. It’s too important.”

Father got Rhoda out of bed, got some tools and his old gun

and when mother asked where he was going he replied “I’m not



9

sure, but if I succeed it’s genius, if not, I’m an idiot chasing

shadows."

Father walked toward the graveyard, with Rhoda skipping

along. Under the bright glow of the moon they went into the

graveyard with its tall monuments and angels, statues and old

carvings seeming to go on endlessly. Rhoda led him through the

night to a crypt. Father found a lock on the door, old and rusted

and he said “Just as I figured. Oh well. Rhoda, go around that

big stone so you don’t get hit.” He then aimed his gun and shot

the lock. The sound was deafening and fire spit from the gun asthe lock blew apart.

Father walked into the crypt and lit it up with his big camping

light. Rhoda danced around happily in the cobwebs, smelling

the old odors of time. “Give it a year or two and you’ll be a

Goth girl.” Father said.

In the shadows father saw a huge set of vases, almost as tall as

he stood. “There’s no way a little girl could…” He said. Father

looked into the ops of the vases and said “What do you know.

A cement seal. This just keeps getting more strange all the time.

Father had Rhoda go outside and he shot his gun one more

time, at the vase, and a big piece of stone came out, then the

vase fell apart.

Old money poured onto the ground. Rhoda was stunned with

excitement. Father just shook his head. “I’m gonna need a big

box.” He said.



11

it down and looked at dear Charlotte. “I feel so tired.” She said.

Charlotte smiled and eased Rhoda back into the pillow.”

Rhoda began to talk to Charlotte who gently wiped a cold rag

onto her face.

Normally Charlotte would quietly fade into the night, but as

she cooled Rhoda’s forehead, Rhoda began to feel better, and

Charlotte stood up and offered her hand. Rhoda felt better so

she decided to get up and stretch. She took Charlotte’s hand and

as she stood up, she felt a breeze blow through the window. She

turned and saw….herself, old and frail, in the bed, her eyes shut

as if she had fallen asleep.

For only a moment, Rhoda looked at herself then she turned

back and saw Charlotte smiling gently at her. She then heard a

friendly voice call to her, and she looked at the mirror, seeing

her face, young and strong again. But she was not alone; Mary,

Jack and Squeaky were looking back at her.

Rhoda walked toward the mirror and the house faded away

around her as she took her friend’s hands and suddenly felt a

surge of joy.

Weeks later a man in a pair of jeans walked up the stairs of the

house and looked into the room. He sighed and called tosomeone else in the house.

“Ain’t nothin here but junky old furniture and a rotted bed

where they took old Rhoda Gray from when they found her.”



12

He said. He then turned and smiled. “You know what though,

this is a cool old mirror. I gotta take that home. My kid would

love that old thing in her room!”

The Lonely Light by Darlene Long

Documents

Transcript of The Lonely Light by Darlene Long