A Death In Calgary Read online

  Chapter Three: Death Takes a Toll

  Logan drove slowly down Main Street of Calgary Creek. There was one street running straight through and one running across the center of town, creating a perfect cross, as Reverend Brown was always pointing out in his sermons. The curve of the old railroad tracks ran from northwest/southeast around the town almost like a broken spinal cord, leaving the town paralyzed when the grain mills shut down and the depot closed its doors. Still, Calgary Creek was a quiet little town with the Baptist and Methodists sharing the church on alternate schedules and all grades were taught at the same school. The VFW club had bingo on Friday nights, dancing on Saturday, and the basement served as a storm shelter and occasionally hosted the local poker game or quilting circle. That was just about it, when it came to entertainment, other than the local library/post office that was located right beside the VFW. Other small stores filled the shops on each side of the street, "handmade" craft shops, a dusty hardware store, a dojo and other barely thriving business ventures that were about to go belly up at any moment.

  As the hearse passed each place, people would pause what they were doing to take a look as if they sensed something was amiss. Logan was used to it. Not having a car himself, he was left to borrow a vehicle every time he paid a visit to someplace. The owner of Plath funeral home was quite a good friend of Logan's, after all Logan was good for business. He was considering that maybe the hearse was a little too obvious and maybe a nice blue truck would be just the ticket. Although, he never cared to blend in or to stand out, the privacy may be worth the change in vehicles. Maybe he should even talk to old man Plath about that nice little Bentley he thinks he is hiding in the garage of the funeral home.

  People never failed to let him down. They all sin, a few testifying only when faced with the loss of their immortal soul. He never had any empathy for those. He never felt any guilt for doing the job. There were those that just made him angry. Those self-righteous people that mock his place in the scheme of things and take it upon themselves to end their own life, those were the ones that he could not understand. Time moves on and yet he still sought the answer to this abomination, pass on life and go straight to Hell. Death was his job.

  Logan had been in the town three days now, observing. He had not seen Sam since the first day but tonight was going to be interesting.

  As darkness fell on Calgary Creek, the ladies of the town gathered for quilting. They sewed the covers and then boxed them up and sent them to "the boys" overseas. Gossip and coffee was served at each meeting. The men usually took this time off to gather at the hardware store, that stayed open late on quilting night, to talk about crops, weather and politics. The younger folk and those that had children to care for usually stayed home and sought entertainment from satellite TV or books borrowed from the local library. No many town-folk came out for these sorts of get-togethers anymore.

  The library, however, did a pretty brisk business being that it also was the post office location and Dana's Daycare rented out the basement for $300.00 a month and that went toward the purchase of new books for the library.

  Cell phones were few in the town due to reception and the only stop light in town stopped working after the last storm and nobody seemed to even notice or they just didn't care. Calgary Creek was slowly dying but it had been terminal for many years.

  Logan had decided to walk the length of the town tonight after taking the hearse back to the motel. Before he got half way to the center of town he saw them. Call them bodocks, shades, shadows or gravelings, his minions were here. He was the bringer of Death and where he went people died. It was just that simple. Until Death left Calgary Creek, the local gravedigger would be a slight bit busier.

  Unknowingly to anyone, Bobby Harrigan and his two best friends were down at the old mill silo looking for ghosts. Convinced by old legends, Bobby just knew the ancient silo was haunted. Logan paused in front of the hardware store listening to the men laugh and share stories. Back at the silo, Bobby and his friends were getting ready to step out onto the top of the aged roof of the silo. Bobby was in front, hanging onto the side of the ladder with one hand while reaching up with his other hand to pull himself over the edge of the silo to the top of the rotted out roof. Jeff and Toby right on his heels.

  As the ladies quilted and the men folk talked shop, Bobby Harrigan, Jeff Tubs and Toby White fell to their death as the ladder, rusted and loosened from years of rain and wind gave way and crashed to the ground. Death had already reduced the population of Calgary Creek by four souls.