Ghost Town

 

 

Zvi A. Sesling

 

          As a feature writer for Live Ghost Magazine I am often given an assignment in the west because that is where most of the ghosts seem to hang out. On this particular assignment in Nevada, I take along my girlfriend Patricia because she is an ace photographer. Patty is a prize winner with a camera and as a girlfriend, so I am thrilled she agrees to accompany me. It means I will have absolute proof if a ghost pops through a wall. It also means I will not have to sleep alone. As we drive down a dirt road that used to be the main street to Friday Nevada, Patty asks if I know why it has such an unusual name.

          Having done my research, I tell her, “On a Friday in 1887 a bunch of drunk miners find a mother lode of silver that turns into Brookledge Mine. Noah Brookledge actually started the mine and though he was murdered a year later by the miners who think they should share the claim, are the same ones who decide that since the vein was discovered on a Friday the town should bear that name. They also decide to keep the name of Brookledge hoping that by honoring the man they killed they will not be suspects. The plan works, but by 1898 the mine is played out and everyone leaves.”

          “So why is it a ghost town,” Patty asks.

          “Well, for one thing people who sleep in their cars here over night on the ride between Vegas and Elko report being awakened by ghost howls. Some even say there are apparitions moving in these old buildings.”

          “Do you believe them?” asks Patty.

          “I have never really encountered a ghost, but I write a number of stories based on interviews with those who claim to have seen them.”

          Patty lights a cigarette, blows on the match and tosses it out the window of the car. “What about those stories that don’t have a so-called witness?”

          I thought a few seconds and tell her, “I describe the town and how scary it is at night. Sometimes I write about the voices or the howls I hear, or think I hear. I give some history and who I think it might be, a sheriff, a marshal, possibly an old mayor or hanging judge. Other times I throw in a hanged gunman or a school marm trampled by a herd of cows being taken through town. There are lots of possibilities.”

          “But no real ghosts,” Patty says, disappointed she will not see one.

          “Keep that camera of yours handy, I believe one will show,” I offer. I come to a stop in front of the old saloon.

          Hearing a piano being played Patty says, “Let’s go in and see who is playing. Maybe it’s the ghost of a piano player.”

           “Maybe it’s not,” I put in.

          “You scared?” she asks with a grin.

          “I don’t want to know who is in there, and if it is a ghost I don’t want to meet it. I prefer making up my stories.”

          With that I drive off with Patty to a nice motel about forty minutes up the main highway.

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     Zvi A. Sesling, Brookline, MA Poet Laureate (2017-2020), has published numerous poems and flash/micro fiction and won international prizes. A five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, he has published four volumes and three chapbooks of poetry. His flash fiction book is Secret Behind the Gate. He lives in Brookline, MA. with his wife Susan J. Dechter.

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Hillary Lyon founded and for 20 years acted as senior editor for the independent poetry publisher, Subsynchronous Press. Her stories have appeared lately in 365tomorrows, Black Petals, Sirens Call, Night to Dawn, 50 Word Stories, Legends of Night drabble series anthology, and Revelations drabble series anthology. She’s the Art Director for Black Petals and is also an illustrator for horror & pulp fiction magazines. 

https://hillarylyon.wordpress.com/