Oakley Elgin and The Ghost Story

For  Fandango’s Flashback Friday:

Oakley Elgin and The Ghost Story

First published October 14,2009



Oakley Elgin works in a haunted bakery.

The Bakery is on the corner of Washington Street and when Oakley first started to work at the Haunted Bakery an employee named George told him about the ghost of a woman who stands in front of the display case where the cookies are displayed and asks if the train will be on time today.

” You’re kidding right?” Oakley asked.

George shook his head. ” I wish I were. I’ve never seen anything sadder then that Ghost Lady, waiting on that train.”

” So what train is she talking about?” Oakley asked. Oakley was new in town and as far as he could tell there weren’t any trains running through it now so guessed the ghost lady and her train were form a long time ago.

George, unlike most people who seemed to enjoy telling a good ghost story looked around to make sure the bakery was empty and then he told Oakley, ” she’s talking about the 377.”

Oakley could see something very wrong had happened to the 377.

” Yeah? So what happened to it?”

George was looking like he regretted bringing the story up. But it had to be done. The Train Lady had scared away customers and employees for years now. She was easier for to deal with if you were prepared.

” If you go out to Devilbit Lake you can still see the tracks . If you know where to look you can still see Bridge, well the place where the Bridge used to be.”

” So what happened? Did it jump the tracks and end up in the Lake or something like that?”

” Well. No. See, this was the Morton Mill Station Train Station and the 377 used to come through at around eleven. And one day it never showed up.”

Oakley waited for George to continue and George looked towards the door  wishing the entire time that someone would walk in and he could get out of Train Story Duty. ” The train left Everett on time, it went through Terrace Lake at it’s usual time and just before it got to Devilbit Lake it disappeared.”

” Just like that?” Okaley asked.

” People saw her Oakley, they saw her round the bend not even a quarter mile from the lake, they even heard her and she just never came around that corner. She never made it to the Bridge at Devilbit.”

” She just disappeared into thin air.”

Oakley wasn’t sure what to make of the story he had just heard.

” So what’s up with the Ghost Lady?”

” Well, to understand her, you have to understand something else.”

” And that is…”

“George leaned against the cookie case and said, ” The 377 was first train around here to disappear on route to Devilbit Lake. After the 377 dissapeared there were six-“

” Six trains disappeared into thin air?” Oakley asked ” Are you kidding me?”

George said ” Not six. Sixteen. The 377 was the first of sixteen trains to disappear near Devilbit . The first of sixteen trains to never arrive here in Duwamish Bay.”

” Seriously?”

George nodded.

” How many…I mean, how many people-“

” Hundreds Oakley. Hundreds.”

” That is messed up George. What happened next?”

” Well, people took it into their heads that something was happening to the trains when they got near the Devilbit Lake Bridge  so people came in from Waremount and Appleton and burned the bridge down and then they tore up the tracks.”

George looked relived, he was nearing the end of his story. ” So right after the 377 was lost this woman started to show up at the station asking after it and years after they shut the station down and it was turned into a diner she still showed up asking for the 377 and she does it now.”

” So is this Ghost Lady waiting for someone on the train? Was she supposed to be on it? Did she have something to do with the trains disapearing? Because I’m willing to bet that train is in the Lake-probably its on top of 15 other trains at the bottom of the Lake.”

” There’s no Trains down there. One of those Ghost Hunting shows sent cameras down there- even one of those History shows did the same thing. Nobody found any trains. But last year they found this car and what was left of this Mortician who owned it at the bottom of the Lake. For years people thought he had run off with this singer from Bronson Park. Let me tell you, that was a let down. I used to love that story-.”

Oakley leaned his back against the Cookie Case and looked up at the menu on the wall. ” So who was she?”

” No idea. The thing of it is. A few months ago she started to show up at the airport up in Lister… and she’s asking for the 377 there too.”

” I don’t like the sound of that.”

” Nobody does.”

” That’s a weird story George. I sure wish I could figure out what the Ghost Lady wants. I would really like to know where all of those missing trains are.”

” You could try and ask her Oakley.”

Oakley laughed. ” Sure I could. Have you ever asked her about the 377 George?”

” Lots of times. But she doesn’t answer questions Oakley, she asks them . It wouldn’t hurt though-you could ask her.”

” I might. “

” No really Oakley, you could ask her.” George was pointing over Oakley’s left shoulder. ” Go ahead.”

Photographer Unknown

Six More Months!!!

There are

6 months and 1 day from April 30, 2021

to October 31, 2021

Here are some of my favorite Halloween Writing Prompts- they’re from an old school page but they are  fun:

EXERCISE: Is That A Monster in Your Pocket?
EXERCISE: Fearfully…
EXERCISE: Don’t Open The Door!
EXERCISE: To Dream, Aye, There’s The Rub…
EXERCISE: Plot #12: Transformation: 20 Master Plots
EXERCISE: Fear and Trembling…
EXERCISE: Plot #13: Maturation: 20 Master Plots



RDP Friday: Gobsmacked

Adena Thorne lives in a yellow house on South Hill Road  in an unusual town called Spare.

There are exactly 4 streets in the little town of Spare with 3 houses on each of them- some are yellow, some are green, one was abandoned and the residents of Spare ( all 36 of them ) have ignored it as ivy and  black berry vines covered it slowly crush it to splinters.

I think that house used to be yellow, it’s hard to say.

Spare’s roads are gravel, it doesn’t have sidewalks, though there is sort of one in front of the Post Office/ Mini Mart/Gas Station/City Hall made of rough and uneven retaining wall blocks.

Whoever started the project got bored with it and eventually the weeds and dust will cover up the blocks and that will be the end of that.

You would think that in a town as small as Spare everyone knows each other, or that they are all related in some way, but that’s not the case at all.

The people in Spare don’t really like each other at all and the likelihood that they would work on anything together is almost zero.

Last year someone ordered a pressed tin sign on line that said, ” Welcome to Spare ” and left it on the counter of the Post Office/ Mini Mart/Gas Station/City Hall  next to the Slushie Machine.

Bette Price  found it leaning against her desk. She opened the package and said, ” Why is this at my desk? What do the people around here think?  I’m their slave? I’m the damn Mayor. I’m not hanging this thing up.”

She drug it behind the post office counter, leaned it against the back wall and it’s still there, collecting dust. Sometimes people scribble on it when the ink dries up in their pens, so  I suppose it’s serving a purpose after all.

Just after Easter Bette was at her desk Post Office/ Mini Mart/Gas Station/City Hall when Wes Farmer sort of oozed his way through the door and up to Bette’s desk. He was wearing a T-shirt with a fuzzy splotch in the middle of his chest that may have said something about Motorcycles or it may have been a decal of a naked woman.

Bette guessed it was was the latter.

” Yes. ” she said.

” There’s a body in that tunnel thing out behind my place. ”

” Did you call the Sheriff? ”

Wes leaned over her desk. ” No. Cause I don’t have a phone. ”

Bette huffed through her thin little nose and reached for her phone.


That’s when Adena walked in.

Bette and Wes looked at each other and then they looked at Adena.

” What? ” she asked.

Adena folded her arms across her chest, ” WHAT.”


Wes followed Adena out to the ” Tunnel thing ” on his property and he stood outside while she walked into it  with a flashlight.  She was in there for a few minutes and then Wes  heard her splashing her way back out.

” Are you going to call the Sheriff and tell him about the dead body? ” he asked.  ” Cause I don’t have a phone. ”

Adena turned around and yelled into the tunnel ” Hey Sheriff, there’s a dead body in

the tunnel! ”

” You’re a jerk. ” Wes told Adena.

” Yeah. But I’m a jerk with a phone. Go find someone else to make your call for you. Tell them the Sheriff is dead and that his head is gone.”

Adena pushed past Wes and made her way to the road. She got into her car and she drove away.

Wes figured if there was no Sheriff, then there wasn’t a body in a Sheriff’s uniform quietly being taken away piece by piece by the sometimes running water and the bugs so there wasn’t anything for him to do now, was there?


Adena was the last person to actually drive out of Spare and she was the last person to never come back.

She did it the day after she realized that for as angry as she was at Wes and Bette ( whose last names she never knew )  it occurred to her had it been her body in that tunnel full of fetid water, she would be there rotting away until every single house in Spare was covered with blackberry vines and Spare was nothing more then a hill covered with a dead houses and rusty cars and maybe, just maybe,  one or two people who did not care about any of it, one way or another.

All Adena knew for sure was that she did not want to be one of those two people.