Author's Note: This is my entry for the 2019 Halloween story contest, inspired by the Scottish Ballad Tam Lin. I hope you enjoy it. Please vote! Thanks for reading.
***
At the end of seven years
She pays a tithe to Hell
I so fair and full of flesh
I fear it be myself
-
As the sun set, Maggie sat on a stone bench that was tilting to one side and thumbed through her stack of parchment paper featuring the new grave rubbings she had gathered that evening. She knew she needed to be on her way to her sister's place, but she could not resist the small family cemetery lurking behind the old abandoned church at the eastern junction of US-6 and OH-66. She had been fascinated and curious about it ever since she first noticed it during a drive from her place in Michigan to her sister's home in Indiana. On that glorious September Friday, she finally had a chance to take a look and satisfy her curiosity.
The plot was tucked back in the trees a good mile from the highway, identifiable as a cemetery only by a wrought iron fence that surrounded it and the mausoleum that dominated the space. She had parked her car near the church and hiked back to the graveyard along a gravel path overgrown with weeds. There was a rose hedge, adorned with white flowers, growing along the iron fence and Maggie couldn't resist plucking a late summer blossom and tucking it in her wavy maple-blonde hair. She looked around her at the many old gray headstones sticking out of the ground like jagged teeth in the tall dry grass. She spotted several beautifully carved headstones and set to work. Hours later, she sighed in satisfaction at the rubbings of roses, beautiful Celtic knots and crosses, and various animals she had gathered. She used her cell phone to take a final picture of the weathered mausoleum with the single word "LINDSEY" in block letters carved deep into the cap stone, too high up for her to do a rubbing. She then stood from her perch on the bench to make the long trek back to her car in the rapidly deepening twilight, using her cell phone as a light to illuminate the ground along her way. She startled at the loud hoot of an owl overhead and laughed at her nervousness. She always enjoyed the quiet stillness of cemeteries during the day, but even she couldn't ignore the chill of anxiety as night fell.
She walked faster through the tall grass when she thought she saw a white horse in the darkness among the trees. Her heart pounded rapidly as she trotted towards her waiting car. She knew she was trespassing and worried that the property owner might try to confront her. It was clear that no one had bothered to maintain the cemetery for years, but that didn't mean the property owner wouldn't mind her snooping. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally to her car and able to climb in. She tossed her rubbings and her phone on the passenger seat and was pulling away from the church in a matter of moments.
By the time it was full dark and the full Harvest Moon was rising in the east, Maggie was back on her way on US-6 heading west. She was running late and so was probably driving faster than she should have been, even considering it was a beautiful night. At least it was until she hit a dense fog bank. Her mind told her there was a... horse? In the road in front of her and she slammed on the brakes instinctively. Her tires lost grip on the road and her car spun around once... twice... while she screamed in fear. She came to a sudden stop, facing the wrong way in the ditch on the north side of the road. Her head hit her steering wheel and she blacked out, whether for a heartbeat or many minutes, she didn't really know.
The next thing she knew she was being helped out of her car by a young man with long curly hair and wearing well-worn jeans and a flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. In the moonlight his hair appeared almost black and his eyes an indeterminate but pale color. The white stick of a sucker split his lips at the corner of his mouth. The friendliness of his worried smile was easy enough to make out.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he guided her toward what must have been his car, a white '66 Mustang hardtop in pristine condition.
"I... I think so," Maggie responded, rubbing her hand on her forehead. "I hit my head pretty hard."
"I should call you an ambulance, just in case," he said, but before he could make a move, Maggie stopped him.
"No! No, don't do that. I'm sure I just need some Tylenol or something."
He nodded and then waited for a moment, looking her up and down as though really seeing her for the first time.
"Hi, I'm Thomas," he said, thrusting out his hand toward her. "Thomas Lindsey."
"Nice to meet you, Thomas." She gripped his fingers with hers and squeezed. "I think I was just in your family's cemetery, assuming you're from around here."
"Oh, yeah? Out behind the church?"
"Yeah, that's the one.
"I'm Maggie, by the way."
"Pleased to meet you," he said, and he really did look pleased based on his broad smile. He admired her hair, her leaf green eyes, and the shape of her breasts under her forest green chambray shirtdress. He reached up his fingers to touch the rose she had tucked in her hair. "Did you get the rose in the cemetery?" he asked.
"Yes," she responded, suddenly worried about taking it. "I hope that's okay."
Maggie felt a buzzing in her body at his frank regard. She felt a growing anxiety that seemed to synchronize with the throbbing of her head. She saw that Thomas's lips were pulled back in a thin line as he looked at the rose in her hair, but then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When his eyes opened back up, his face had relaxed.
"My house is just about another half-mile down the road," Thomas said, his voice soft with concern. "We can get you some aspirin and call for a tow from there."
"Oooh-kay," Maggie said, puzzled that he couldn't just use a cell phone, but her head was pounding too painfully for her to really question him.
Thomas went around to the passenger door of his car and opened it for her before motioning to her to get in. Maggie opened her mouth to protest but when her eyes met Thomas's she found herself unable to refuse him. She felt dazzled by his smile of encouragement and let him guide her to sit in his car. Her body tingled at his touch and she sighed softly when he released her elbow. She sat on the white leather seat and pulled her legs in, then he slammed the door closed before walking around to the driver's side and getting in while she was still fastening her seatbelt.
In the back of her mind she knew she should feel nervous, or at least distressed, about riding in a car with a strange man she had just met, but something about Thomas made her feel safe. Or maybe she'd hit her head harder than she realized.
He started up the car and turned on the headlights, the car's interior lighting cast a ghostly glow on his face as he turned to Maggie and smiled.
"We'll get you taken care of," he said. "You're in good hands with me."
They were only in the car for a few minutes before Thomas turned in to a gravel driveway that wound toward a small cottage nestled in a copse of tall trees. The porchlight of the house was on, moths darted around the light fixture dimmed by dirt, but there were no other signs of life.
Thomas opened the door for Maggie and motioned for her to enter in front of him. She hesitated to go into the dark room, but he eased her fear when he reached in next to the door and flipped a light on, brightening the sitting room of the tiny home. Maggie immediately noticed that the home smelled of dust and decay, although it looked clean enough. To her right was a whitewashed brick fireplace with a clock on the mantel reading a quarter after twelve midnight, which struck her as odd since it wasn't even 8 o'clock when she left the cemetery. Against the far wall sat two wingback chairs, upholstered in a flower print, with a table holding a lamp and an old black rotary phone between them. On the wall behind them were dozens of sepia tone photographs.
