The Cascade Mountains

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THE VANISHING PLANE….

 

This happened about 25 years ago, just after my seventh birthday. I had been thumbing through the newspaper. I couldn’t read, I just liked to look at the different pictures. I was flipping the pages, getting powdery black ink on my fingers, when there was a knock on the door. I raced over and flung it open recklessly shouting a careless "Who’s there?" when the door was already open. Standing in the doorway was an old man. Though his skin was wrinkled and sagging, his eyes twinkled with youth and sparkled with long held secrets. "Grandfather!" I cried, and leapt into his arms.

He jumped nimbly out of the way before I reached him, so I was left in a tumbled heap on the porch. "You wouldn’t want to break your old grandfather’s back, now would you? We can’t exactly afford a trip to the hospital today, Sonny."

I nodded. "Come in. Mommy and Dad aren’t home right now- they went out for lunch. How long can you stay?"

Grandfather shrugged, then walked inside. I followed behind him. When grandfather saw the newspapers sprawled across the table, he laughed. "Sonny, what have you been doing?"

"You want to see?" I asked, then raced to my chair. "It’s really fun. I go through the pages, and find pictures of cool stuff like airplanes and cars and trains and boats and toys and stuff." I bent my head over the gray pages, flipping through them eagerly. Grandfather chuckled and sat down next to me. I opened to a page and gasped at the picture in front of me. There was a huge picture of an airplane, the kind grandfather called a Cub, flying through the air over a small building. There was a large banner floating behind the plane that read "Fifty Year Anniversary of the Gig Harbor Private Airport". Underneath the picture was a paragraph saying that there was going to be a celebration at the airport on September 23^rd. .

"Grandfather read it aloud to me," I pleaded.

After he finished I sat staring at him, then I burst out, "Oh, Grandfather! Can we go! Please can we go? Say we can go! Please take me! Oh Grandfather, please, please, please, pleeeease!" I clung to his knees as I begged him.

"Oh, did I tell you that it was something at the airport? I meant it was a… perfume demonstration!" he said.

"Nuh-huh!" I screamed. "pleeeease take me to the airport grandfather. Please!"

"Oh, all right." He said reluctantly. "But I can promise you that I won’t enjoy it" he added quietly.

Fifteen minutes later, we were in the car driving to the airport. Grandfather was silent, but I blabbed on and on about airplanes. Not that I knew anything about them, I just liked to pretend I did. We pulled into the airport parking lot and I raced to the door.

For the next several hours Grandfather and I looked at models of planes, put our names in raffles, and toured the insides of small planes. After most of the people had left, Grandfather and I went over to the raffle table to see if we had won anything. Grandfather walked up and tapped the man standing behind the counter on the shoulder. The man turned around, flashing a grin at us. "We just came to check if we had won anything in the raffles." Grandfather said, gesturing to the stacks of prizes on the counter. "Our name is Straightwater." The man reached behind him and read through a list.

"Yes, you did win something." He started scanning the racks behind him. I waited eagerly, wondering what we might have won; visions of toy planes and models flashed through my head. "Here you go," the man said, handing me a package. I eagerly ripped off the paper. In my hands was… a book. A lousy book! I couldn’t even read! I flipped through the pages- no pictures even!

"Thanks a lot." I turned to Grandfather. "Let’s go," I said. He nodded and we walked out to the car.

"Let me see that," Grandfather said, reaching for the book. I tossed it in his direction and it landed face down on the street. He bent to pick it up, then straightened. "Stop, there’s our truck." I leapt into the front, and he sat down in the driver’s seat, then turned on the engine. He flipped the book over in his hands, and froze.

"What does it say, Grandfather?" I asked, noticing that the truck wasn’t moving. "What does it say?

He didn’t answer for a moment, then he said slowly, forming the words as if they caused him pain, "It says, The Disappearing Plane."

"Why aren’t you driving Grandfather? It’s just a book." I said it accusingly; I was tired and grumpy from an exciting day.

"It’s not just a book, Sonny, it’s much more than that. The story in these pages is not only horrible, but it’s true." Grandfather shuddered and dropped the book. "Let’s go. I’ll tell you the story on the way home."

He backed the car out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road. "This happened exactly fifty years ago tonight. I was younger then, about thirty, and thought I had it all; a job at a new airport in Gig Harbor, a house to myself, and an old truck, which was a lot more than a lot of folks had back then. My best friend, Jonathan, loved to fly. I managed to get him a job at the airport, because we wanted to work together. His first night on the job, he was flying out of Gig Harbor, piloting a charter to the San Juan Islands. Well, no one needed a ride, but he decided to go anyway, just for the fun of it. Everyone else at the airport had to go home early, but i decided to stay late so Jon could go. He had a smooth take off, and it was a clear night; so clear that you could almost see halfway to the islands just from the control tower. Jonathan loved flying. He kept radioing in and telling me about the beautiful view as he was leaving the harbor. And then he stopped radioing in for a little while he was over the sound. I started to doze off when Jonathan’s terrified voice over the radio woke me. " Jack?" he asked, "Are you there?"

"I pressed the speak button on the radio. "I’m here."

"I just lost power in my controls and it doesn’t look like I have landing gear, either."

I didn’t think much of it, then. Jonathan had landed without gear a lot before, so I just reminded him of what he already knew, and figured he would be fine. Then he disappeared from the radar screen. I radioed him quickly. "Jon, are you there? You’re not on the radar."

"What?

"You’re not on the radar. Where are you?"

When he spoke back, his voice was shaky. "I don’t know. I don’t have any equipment to tell me, but I can see water, all around me. There’s nothing else for miles and miles. Just water." His voice climbed higher and higher until he was screeching his words. "Just water for… Oh my God."

"What is it?" I asked, worried. Usually he was cool and calm in the air. The fact that he was scared terrified me, and my back started to chill. "Jon? Are you there?"

"You’re not gonna believe this, Jack. Not in a million years."

"What?" I asked. I heard my voice climbing with anxiety, too, though I didn’t realize I was talking. "What? Jonathon! What? What!"

"It’s so beautiful. It’s incredible. Oh, my God. I have to be going crazy, this can’t be true. It can’t be real. But it’s so amazing. It’s beautiful."

"What is it?!" I shouted. "What is it!"

When he responded, his voice was strangely calm and hypnotic, as if he was in a trance or something. "It’s a girl. A beautiful girl, all in white. She’s white all over. There’s no color on her anywhere. And she’s wearing a long dress, and it’s floating around the clouds. She’s flying, she’s floating in front of the plane. And she’s beckoning. She wants me to come closer. She’s so beautiful. It’s incredible."

Suddenly on the radar screen a dim shape flickered. It was the plane. From what I could see, it was till on course toward the San Juans. And then it was turning, changing course, moving closer to nothing.

His voice crackled over the radio. "There’s fog swirling around her, making shapes and beautiful designs." Then his voice changed, escalating with terror. "The fog is on the plane. I can’t see anything at all. There’s nothing anywhere. Oh God, Jack. Help me. Help! Aaaaaah!"

His voice disappeared in the crackling of the radio, and his plane disappeared from the radar screen.

I kept shouting over the radio for him, all night long, but there was no answer. Then I called for help. They searched all over, everywhere for the plane. They never found it. And they never found Jon. Now, every year on this day, I hear him on the radio"-

Just then the car slammed into the one in front of it. Grandfather’s head slammed into the dashboard, and the radio turned on. The frequency was unusually clear, and there was someone whispering, "It’s so beautiful. It’s incredible. There’s a girl, and she’s so beautiful…"

 

THE MYSTERIOUS ROOM

By: Ally

 

"Really?" Jane asked, looking frightfully at her two friends, with a face as white as the ivory moon glistening in the sky.

"You really believe all that junk" Marion laughed boldly.

"Well… I don’t know, but-" She stopped suddenly, "WHAT WAS THAT!" Her eyes darted back and forth.

"What?" Marion asked looking skeptical with her sideways grin.

"Well, that noise. Did you hear it Sara?" Jane asked her voice quivering as she wrung her hands.

"I shouldn’t have told you that silly urban legend. None of that stuff really happened Jane!" Sara draped her arm around her friends shaking shoulders. Jane managed a small smile, but inside she had this feeling, that something really wasn’t right.

"How about a snack?" Sara suggested standing up from in front of the TV, where they had been watching "Almost Live".

"You mean you want to go up to the kitchen. There could be a killer up there!" Jane exclaimed nervously. Sara laughed,

"In all the years I’ve come up to our beach house, there has NEVER been a killer! Anyway what kind of person would want to kill up on this island. There’s a lot more people in Seattle." She rolled her eyes as she started up the stairs.

"That’s what they thought in ‘Halloween’ " Jane said knowingly.

"Jane you are SUCH a scaredy cat. Halloween was a movie and there is no Michael Myers." Sara sighed. Jane bit her lip, but turned her attention to the TV to get her mind off killer psychopaths.

"Marion are you coming?" Sara asked, pushing a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. Marion mumbled as she stood up and followed.

"Wait don’t leave me here all alone!" Jane gasped as she tore after the giggling pair.

The next day the three girls were packing for a picnic, at Fort Casey, a Fort built at the turn of the century to protect the Puget Sound from foreign aggressions. It was never used for that, basically to train men and in 1954 was shutdown and made into a state park.

"It’s sort of foul weather for a picnic" Jane mumbled as she placed the three sandwiches in a paper bag.

"Well what do you expect it’s fall!" Marion said in that way that made Jane feel so stupid.

"As if I didn’t know!" Jane pursed her lips and started cutting up apples, pretending it was Marion she was cutting. Sometimes Marion was so sarcastic and such a miss know-it all that even Jane, who was so kind and easygoing, wanted to throttle her.

"About the weather" Sara said seeing the conflict between the two, "Was it too cold when we jumped in the lake last winter, or too gray a day when we went kayaking… or-"

"Okay, okay I get the picture, we’re going to have a great picnic at Fort Casey" Jane grinned, remembering how COLD that water had been, but despite that it was one her favorite memories. She’d done so much with her two best friends. They had seen every horror movie their small video rental store contained, had gotten over dozens of fights, and had made up a billion inside jokes. Sara was always the peacemaker, caring, and funny, easygoing and spunky. Marion had her flaws like being a bit too bossy, self centered and always having to win, but she’d do anything! She was wild, crazy, fun, daring and could make the dullest party the wildest in no time flat. Jane was shy, got scared easily, but was also easygoing and had done everything the other two had done, just with more hesitation. They were an odd trio, and had many odd things happen to them, but the oddest was about to happen.

The wind whipped fiercely as the girls finished up their picnic. It was beginning to sprinkle, though they didn’t mind, having always lived where rain is typical. Jane hugged her knees, as her hair swirled around her like a tornado.

"Want to go explore the fort?" She suggested. As much as she hated the thought of the dark cement rooms, that smelled and had little permanent drip marks scattered among the ceiling, at least they could seek refuge from the biting wind. Marion stood up and gazed over at the gray fort looming before them. She’d been in it dozens of times, but today it seemed different. The wide terrace was virtually empty.

"Sara know any urban legends about Fort Casey" Marion smirked.

"Don’t…" Jane whined, knitting her eyebrows together.

"Well…." She put on a face that looked as though she was in deep thought, even though they all knew she wasn’t. "I seem to remember one, about a boy around our age, that I learned at camp last year, but I’m not quite sure…" She muttered.

"Come on Sara get on with the story" Marion urged. Jane didn’t say anything, she was sick with fear already. Sara grinned, she loved telling stories and so she began, adding juicy details wherever she possibly could…

 

"A while back when Fort Casey was made into a public park along with the two other forts in the triangle of fire, there was this boy. He lived with his family in a quaint house out in the woods not more than a mile from here. He and his brothers and sisters would all play in the fort, almost everyday. Whether it was hide-and-seek, capture the flag, tag or house, they pretty much knew the place inside out, with the exceptions of the places that were sealed off. This boy was smart, though he sort of had a short attention span, except when it came to schoolwork and such. So most days he’d wander off and go find himself something to do. No one worried about him he had a lot of common sense and was particularly bright. Maybe that’s why the games of school, writing the ABC’s on a wall, seemed boring. Whatever it was, he would just sneak a way and join the others later. One gray day, I suppose it must have been like this one, it was his birthday, and he had a few friends over to the fort along with his siblings. Now they had a jolly good time, but eventually the boy wandered off. That was the last they saw of him, but not the last they heard of him. Besides the blood curdling scream, there has been reports of people supposedly seeing him in the fort. The description of the room is always the same, though know one knows exactly where it is or how to get there. Well the family moved out, though I guess the boy didn’t and the rest is history…"

Sara finished up with a smile. Jane shivered and Marion grinned and complimented Sara, which was a rear occasion.

"Ready to go in the fort Jane?" She asked. Jane would have rather sat alone outside where she could easily escape some ghost, but she knew she’d never hear the end of it and so she stood up and followed her two friends.

Inside it was damp and musty. Tons of dust danced lazily past their flashlight beams, as the beams gleamed off puddles and explored dark corners. Jane nearly stepped on Marion’s heels so she wouldn’t lose her and she was constantly calling Sara to catch up, because she was exploring every wall, doorway and more. It wasn’t much warmer inside but the wind never penetrated the thick walls: nor did any light from outside, for that matter. They roamed around, sometimes re-tracing their footsteps for about an hour, when suddenly they heard a faint clacking noise. Jane begged to go back, but Marion cautiously moved forward. Jane was nearly in tears, but she hid them from her friends. To calm herself down she stayed RIGHT behind Marion and nearly drug Sara, so she was wedged safely between them.

The clacking noise gradually grew louder, until they came to a long narrow room where a pale boy was shooting marbles into a perfectly round circle of chalk. He was wearing a white shirt and orange cords. His hair was slicked to the side and the flashlight beam winked off it, it was so shiny. He looked like he was out of an old 50’s movie, though he had an eerie glow to him. The boy glanced up from his game and gave a sideways grin identical to Marion’s,

"Hiya!" He exclaimed brightly. The three girls glanced at each other simultaneously, with a nervous look. "My names Matt" He added. None of them even peeped, just stared at the boy named Matt. "I live in a house in the woods, not more than a mile from here" Eagerly he submitted to the so far one way conversation.

"Why are you in here all alone?" Marion finally asked.

"Well marbles shoot best on flat surface and this is the flattest around, anyway I got bored" he shrugged as he shot a pearly blue marble with expert aim.

"Wow it looks like you’ve been playing for a long time…" Sara said to cover up the silence

"Really?" He grinned. "Well actually I have." He added sheepishly. All the time Jane was whiter than a freshly bleached white sheet.

"How old are you?" Marion gulped, hoping the answer wasn’t 13, like the boy in the story.

"Just turned thirteen today!" He said proudly.

"You with anyone?" Sara’s voice came out in a thin whisper, so she could barely hear it over the rapid thud thumping of her heart.

"My brothers and sisters and a few friends, but they got boring…" He sighed. The girls didn’t need to hear anymore, they took off as fast their feet could carry them nearly tripping over each other. As they ran they heard a blood-curdling scream, one that could shatter glass, or wake a whole city. It was hideous, but they kept running

They ran in till they were safely outside and they didn’t stop there. In fact they didn’t stop in till, like dominos they all ran into a man with silverish hair, drenched from the rain. The man tumbled over and put on a concerned look.

"What’s wrong?" He asked looking at each one of the panting girls sitting on the gravel of the parking lot.

"Um… Well there was this boy… he sort of glowed and was very pale… he matched this story we heard identically about a boy who disappeared a few months after the park opened up…" Marion gasped shakily and ended with an uncontrollable gulp. The man had heard the story, from people claiming to have seen the boy, or from friends who had said someone reported seeing him to them. Looking at the girls, one crying, all pale and shaking, he didn’t think they could fake something that well, not even a professional actor could have conquered the scene to that extremity. They had been running faster than he had ever seen someone run, in person.

"Come along I’ll call your parents" He offered with a comforting grin, pushing aside the thought of what a far-fetched story it was. The girls followed the man to a little building where they sipped hot cocoa and sat by the fire till their parents came.

Jane, Sara or Marion to this day haven’t seen the boy again, but others have every year on the same day, always an overcast one, in the same mysterious room…

 

Ruby Magic

By Jackie

Yah right! You wish that was true," I sang out happily as my three best friends and I sat in a circle around the driftwood bonfire. The wind pulled at my long, silky, chestnut hair as the waves reared and crashed on the shore behind us. Jake leaned in towards the fire. "It is true," he said persuasively, "it happened right here on this beach."

With that voice, I almost had to believe him. The full moon shone across his earnest face, and his eyes seemed to say "TRUE". I shivered, and glanced at the tall lighthouse nearby. Jewels eyed me, her face pale and milky in the dusky light, her blue eyes glimmering and dancing like the bright flames of the orange fire. "I think he’s right," she said in an unsure voice. My mind filled with twisted thoughts and dark images of the story. "I’ll prove it," I said boldly, "I’ll enter the lighthouse and bring back proof that it’s safe." Though I was a little scared, I wanted to prove my friends wrong. Anna’s voice cut in, "All right, but if you don’t come out, what do we tell your parents?" I smiled, "Tell them I fell in the ocean and got eaten by jellyfish or something. Who cares! I’ll be back." Although I wasn’t sure I would be.

I thought about the spooky ghost story Jake had told us about a young girl that had died in a shipwreck in Puget Sound during a storm, and now haunts the lighthouse off the Magnolia bluffs. He knew so many details that the story just might be true. Gathering my courage and waving, I knocked on the door. Expecting nothing to happen, I turned around and stuck my tongue out at my friends.

 

Suddenly, I knew something was wrong. Light was flooding over my shoulders and a quiet voice asked, "May I help you?" Startled, I jumped and slipped on the wet steps. Then everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and I felt a dull pain as my head hit the white brick side of the lighthouse. Now I was surrounded in soft folds of warm black velvet, drifting off to sleep.

 

What seemed like hours or days later, I groggily opened my eyes, and watching me was a lady holding a steaming cup of tea. Her face was heart-shaped, her eyes a deep brown, with raven black hair tied back with an antique copper clip. My mouth dropped open. Getting up, the lady gave me a reassuring smile and handed me the ancient looking teacup. Getting a little more control over myself, I nervously studied the room. I took a slow, unsure sip of the sweet tea. Immediately I felt a little better, and relief flooded over me. I had made it inside, and I wasn’t dead. I looked around the room again, more critically. She watched me study her things. "This stuff is old," I thought, "from the 1900’s." I looked at the lady. "She must be too," I guessed, my mind racing.

The odd lady smiled at me. "I am Genevieve Brown," she said in an introduction, "who are you?" I just watched her for a second. "I am Emelie Smith." As I said my last name she looked surprised. "And who are your parents?" I racked my brain, trying to remember their names in my tired state. "My mother is Nicole Smith and my father is John Smith." Genevieve breathed deeply. Her face seemed to drop as she pondered the names.

She slowly helped me into a sitting position, and then onto my feet. Taking a coat off the chair next to her, she flung it like a cloak over my shoulders. Genevieve opened my clenched, icy hand. In it she dropped a glittering, very expensive looking ring. It was a softly glimmering ruby set into a fine gold band. She closed my fingers around the warm ring. "Give your father my best regards," she said as she opened the door, "and be careful."

I nodded and looked for my friend’s bonfire. Walking proudly towards it, I closed my fingers tighter around the ring. Something about it made me feel almost uneasy. I shrugged it off as I reached the fire. "You survived! I told them you would!" Anna squealed happily, jumping up and running towards me. I nodded. "That was amazing," I murmured to my friends, "there IS a ghost in the lighthouse." I half smiled. "But it’s still safe. The lady’s nice. And I have proof." I showed them the tattered black cloak. Then I looked at Jake. "You were right," I said, trying to look mournful, "can I go home now?" Jake laughed and nodded. I waved, "Bye, guys."

I trudged up the bluff towards my house, kicking a stone as I walked. I reached the small cottage, overgrown with ivy and larkspur. I looked back at the beach and the softly flickering fire as I pulled open the heavy wooden door. "Probably still telling stupid stories," I murmured, stepping inside.

"Hey dad," I said, walking towards his chair. He looked at me and smiled, "What?" "Some old lady named Genevieve Brown sent you her best regards." I laughed. "She gave me these." I said, tossing him the ring and laying the frayed, black coat over his knees. His face dropped and his eyes clouded with sorrow as he stared over the ring. Scrunching my eyebrows together, I scanned his sad face. What was really weird, was that he looked distressed. My father’s next remark sent chills racing up my spine. His voice cracked as he tried to talk. "That’s impossible," he breathed softly as the ring fell to the floor with a clink and glittered dangerously against the hardwood floor, "she died in a boat crash thirty years ago. We were engaged."

 

Whispering Words

By Starbuck

Kelsey was almost seven years old when we first took her to Klalock. We were worried that she would be reluctant to go into the water, now I wish she had been. Walking into the cabin gave me a good vibe. Rob and I needed some time to relax, to let go of the troubles we had in the city, and Kelsey would love playing in the sand.

The minute Kelsey walked into the water she took a liking to it. Her black hair streamed in the wind, as sprinkles of water blew onto her pale white skin. Giggling she reached down into the water and gently pulled out a soft starfish. Amazed by its obscurity Kelsey stared at it in awe. I smiled and slowly walked to the stump were my book and sunglasses lay. Quickly I dropped down to the ground and sprawled out. Listening to the sound of the waves I slowly drifted off into a sound sleep unaware of the things that were happening around me.

I woke up to the sound of child's laughter. Glancing around I noticed the pale blue sky had turned into a dark shroud of night. Panicked I scanned the shoreline for Kelsey, but instead I heard another giggle and the soft sound of humming.

"Kelsey!" I screamed, hoping to see her near by.

another giggle. Running towards the sound I pushed the swarming darkness out of my way,

Finally I saw her in the distance laughing as if someone were whispering in her ear.

"Kelsey!" I cried running up to her and spinning her around. "Don’t you ever run away like that again!" I yelled uncontrollably. Shock swept across her face as she scrambled into my arms. "I'm so sorry mommy, I didn’t mean to scare you." Smiling through the salt that spilled down my cheeks I gave her a quick hug. "Let's go up to the house now okay?" I choked pushing her raven hair away from her eyes. Nodding she took off for the stairs. Shaking away the fear that was building up inside me I hurried up and started up by her side.

***************************************************************************** Later that night I couldn’t stop thinking about why Kelsey would do such a thing. She always needed me by her side whenever she did anything, and who was singing. It couldn’t have been Kelsey, she wasn’t even able to carry a tune, and the voice could.

In mid thought a familiar sound pushed its way through my window and crept into my room. I looked over at Rob who was fast asleep and wondered if he could hear it to. Slowly I pushed the covers off me and proceeded to Kelsey's room.

Walking in I found the light on and the Kelsey gone. "Oh no," I thought racing to the door. Walking out into the cold bitter night I saw Kelsey. Her black hair blew in the wind as her white night gown wrapped itself around her. The singing grew louder as Kelsey drew closer to the water. A blaze of white light entrapped her as she disappeared into god knows were. I gasped and stumbled down the steps looking in every direction. My feet trampled the sand, as I reached the place were Kelsey had once been. Glancing around I saw sight off her. Hysterically I screamed out her name over and over again, hoping to hear a response. Tears streaked down my face as I collapsed in the sand. My eyes soon adjusted to the light and I wiped the tears away from my cheek. I looked out into the distance and caught glance of a tail suddenly flashing in the air and gliding back into the water.

Backing away, I let out a low cry and raced back up the stairs. Bursting through the back door I screamed out Robs name. Filled with panic I ran up the stairs to his side. With much urgency I threw back the covers and sat him up straight.

As I cried out the best of my knowledge, Rob's eyes grew into a white cloud of shock. Scrambling towards the phone he quickly dialed 911.

The police searched the beach shore to shore; they even dragged the water but couldn’t find anything. All the evidence they could find was, little footprints scampering towards the sea. I choked out what happened to the sheriff and he looked at me with the most overpowering eyes.

Quietly he pulled me to the side and told me an unbelievable story about a girl who also was lured into the water by a woman's forceful voice. Legend has it that it’s a lonely mermaid that yearns for some company, but instead she drowns the children and carries them off.

I shivered and stared up into his serious eyes. " I don’t believe in that sort of stuff," I whispered, insulted by his rude suggestion. Slipping away I pushed myself underneath Robs arm as we watched them drag the water one last time.

Later that night as I lay in bed I closed my red eyes and listened to the soft murmuring of the waves. Turning over I focused on what the sheriff had said and what I had seen.

Suddenly I soft song came rustling through the trees. A certain uneasiness climbed up into my body as I silently pushed myself out of bed. Looking out the window I gasped. There stood Kelsey, not to far from the shore. Breathing one last time she giggled and disappeared into the dark waters. A soft melody not too far behind.