Tuesday, August 15, 2006

A short story about Rosalee

Rosalee made the best cookies and told the best stories.

I'm Ben and I just turned 11 this past June. It's summer vacation and there isn't much to do on Main Street, Podunk County, USA except fish and eat peanut butter sandwiches on the river bank.

I've always known Rosalee and her friend Mags. Some made fun of Rosalee because of her weight, but that didn't bother me any. She had a way with cookies and told a good story which was good enough for me.

There was one story I particularly loved. It was the one about her and Mags' finding a dead body in Old Jed Jenkins' cornfield.

"Back out behind Old Jed's there's a buried body," she stated one day.

"You've got to be joking!" I replied.

"No joke, munchkin. It's true. Mags and I tripped over a foot one day cuttin' through Old Jed's cornfield after school."

"Wow! That's wild, Rosalee. What did you do?"

"We did what any other red-blooded girl would do; screamed ourselves silly."

"You're a pair of sissies."

"Sissies, eh? I'd like to know what you would have done if you'd tripped over someone's foot that was stickin' out of the ground, bold as brass! You would have wet your britches right then and there."

"I'm too old to pee my pants."

"No one's too old to pee their pants, munchkin, especially when you're scared outta your wits. The only thing you want to do in a situation like that is get as far away as you can...and fast!"

"What happened next?"

"Well, as soon as I could get Mags to stop screamin', she...don't let your cookies get cold, munch. When you finish those, I'll let you try one of my pumpkin cookies."

"Never mind my cookies, Rosalee! Tell me what happened!"

"Hold your horses, kiddo, I'm getting there. Like I said, after Mags calmed down, I told her we needed to finish burying it. Well, that was enough to set her off again. Do you know how loud that girl can holler? She's louder than a banshee on Halloween night."

"Rosalee!"

"Settle down, munchkin, you can't rush a good story. It's like forgetting to put the eggs in your cake recipe. It just doesn't come out the same."

"Why did you have to bury the body? Why didn't you just run?"

"We couldn't just leave it there could we? It wouldn't be right and besides, Old Jed might come home and think we did the poor fellow in ourselves."

"I wonder who killed him."

"No one ever found out. There wasn't anyone around that seemed to be missing anyone and no one filled out a missing person's report so, the police never came around to look. I think that poor fellow must have seen or heard something he wasn't supposed to and got caught in the middle. I wouldn't be surprised if Mad Matthew Hagen over in Creek Pond was the one that killed him. He could do it, too. Oh, I shudder just to think of it. He was as mean and scary as they come. I remember Mad Matthew used to make moonshine in his barn and was always getting into trouble with the law. He caught Mags and me snoopin' on him one day and told us that if we told anyone what we'd seen that he'd come drag us from our beds and take us out behind his barn, never to be seen again."

"Weren't you scared?"

"Of course we were scared. The rumors around town where that Mad Matthew had at least 50 bodies buried on his property. It was said that he'd knock 'em over the head with a hoe, drag the bodies behind the barn and then bury them. Mags and I went out to his place when he wasn't home to see for ourselves but we couldn't find anything that looked like a grave. He hid 'em well, that's for sure. I was hoping to find a bone so I could keep it as a souvenir."

"Yuck! That's so gross!"

"There's nothing gross about that. What's gross is when Tommy Henderson put a frog in the teacher's punch at the Sunday School Picnic one summer. She didn't even see it till she drank half of it. You could hear her bellow all over the county."

"Get back to the story, Rosalee. I want to know how it ends."

"Okay, Okay! We figured that this body must have belonged to Mad Matthew but he must not have had the time to bury it properly so, we went to get some shovels to finish the job. We borrowed Mags' dad's spade without him noticing and Mags kept muttering about how he was going to kill her under her breath. She used to be such a cry-baby."

"Did it take a long time to bury the rest of him?"

"Of course it did, but we eventually got him covered."

"Then what?" I was getting impatient.

"We went home for supper, silly."

Rosalee stood up and went back to the stove. I realized that was all I was going to get that day. I finished eating my cookies and watched her take another batch out of the oven. She sure did know how to make a cookie!

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