Further Tales From The West Boo-Foo Cafe
1st place in Derby #168: HalloWoot! 2010, with 1258 votes!
Hey there, stranger! What seems to be the trouble? Sorry, but the cafe’s closed for the evening. Always closes a little early on Halloween, you see, but I don’t suppose you’d know that now, would ya? Say, that’s a nasty bump you got on your head there. What’s that you say? Your car slipped off the road and into a ditch? Well, I reckon there won’t be much you can do about that this evening. Won’t be a garage or a tow available ‘til morning. Now I’d be more than happy to give you a ride to the local motel, if you’re in need of one. Hell, I’ll even share this here thermos of Erna’s famous Cafe Coffee with ya. I’ll warn you, though, I like to ramble a bit. Whaddaya say?
Aw, think nothing of it. I’m surprised you even came into town. Don’t you city folk have those fancy phones you can use wherever you are? Dead battery, huh? Well, that’d figure, wouldn’t it? It’s just a good thing you ended up at the Cafe when you did. How’d you even know where to go, anyway?
Whoops. Excuse me for hittin’ the brake so hard like that. It’s just… Well, this old man’s ears could’ve sworn you just said you were sent here by a small child dressed like a ghost.
No, no, it doesn’t sound crazy at all. Not around these parts anyway. That young man is quite well known. Why, you could say he’s a bit of a local legend.
That boy’s name was Jimmy Bakerton. I say “was” because some locals ran across his body some forty years ago out in woods near the highway on Halloween night. The only reason we know what his name was is because it was written on the inside of the jacket he was wearing under his costume, which, as you’ve probably guessed, was a single white sheet with two eye holes cut out of it. Was a shame, too. Nobody ever did come to claim that young man. The local police couldn’t find hide nor hair of any record that that boy even existed outside of those woods. Horrible.
Folks around here, well, they were real upset by the whole thing. Lots of people, me included, just didn’t think it was right that no one was gonna mourn for the boy. So, we did. All of West Boo-Foo pooled its money together and gave him a good and proper burial. There were flowers, cards, children shared their Halloween candy, Reverend Burnett sang “Danny Boy”, the whole bit. Maybe little Jimmy wasn’t loved in his life, but, in death, a whole dang town loved him. It was real nice.
About a year later, a man who escaped certain death when he was trapped inside a burning saw mill claimed to have found escape by following “some kid in a sheet”. A year after that, a young girl who’d gotten herself stuck in her grandfather’s well for three whole days before someone found her said she was comforted by a little boy in a ghost costume. And this continued for quite some time, too. Every year, you’d hear some story about Jimmy showing up in someone’s time of need and trying his best to help them. Kinda his way of saying “thank you”, I reckon.
Of course, that’s just one crazy old man’s take on things. You know, nowadays, folks around here feel it’s good luck for at least one kid in a group of trick-or-treaters to dress themselves in a sheet in honor of that young man. Makes them feel like their kids are protected in some way. Maybe you caught a glimpse of one of them and, what with your head injury and all, got confused with what you saw out there. Anything’s possible.
Well, here we are, The Local Motel. What it lacks in a creative name it makes up for in a good night’s rest, heh heh. No, you go ahead and keep that thermos, you hear? Might come in handy. Good luck with your car tomorrow, mister, and you have a nice evenin’.
Wear this shirt: at a rally supporting the rights of Ectoplasmic-Americans
Don’t wear this shirt: when you go out trick-or-treating. Put a little effort into a costume, man.
This shirt tells the world: “I got a chocolate bar! I got a quarter! I got a HOLY CRAP WHERE’D HE COME FROM!”
We call this color: Asphalt On Elm Street
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