Ruralite Cafe: Published 11/01/01

By Lisa Majors-Duff - News Editor

Good Halloween story could put us on the map

But the terror of what this Halloween would become crept up on her stealthily, launching a surprise attack far from its unassuming position in the middle of this very week. Halloween, as it turned out, would come early this year, throwing off its masquerade of whimsy and proving without a doubt that even its most faithful of followers are not safe from its potential savagery.

As the county's Sesquicentennial geared down and the newspaper staff began to breathe easier, the overwhelmed news editor uncovered her calendar to begin planning for the remainder of the month. She was a little more than surprised to notice the days of Oct. 25 and 26 crossed through in pencil. Somehow in the rush of helping to gather together the county's history, she'd forgotten she'd scheduled two days off: One for oral surgery and another to recover.

Trusting that her desk calendar rarely lets her down, she recalled carefully planning the appointment to fall after the county's 150th birthday celebration, between commission meetings, and before Halloween. A couple days of rest following the surgery and she'd be ready to resume her role of "soccer mom" on Saturday, attend the Maggie Valley "Bark in the Park" on Sunday, go to work and lead Brownies on Monday, and then trick-or-treat downtown Tuesday night.

In the meantime, what could be more relaxing than a couple of days on the couch with a good book, a catnap or two, and the promise of dreamy drugs, which she knew she wouldn't need. She'd survived childbirth after all; the removal of wisdom teeth could not possibly compare.

If she'd only known how right she was.

If you ask her now, there's little she can tell you about the day of her surgery. Of course, there's was some pain, but there was also the serenity of sleep, which thankfully consumed most of the first 24 hours following the procedure. With only her right eye willing to open, she imagined her appearance must have been slightly transformed. That was to be expected, she thought during brief moments of cognizance. Little did she know that she'd unwittingly been dressed for Halloween, starting with a mask so hideous it sent her small child screaming from the darkened room.

The next day the pain and swelling combined to prevent even the blessing of sleep. Clear thought escaped her and she felt a dreadful metamorphosis taking place from within, one she wanted desperately to fight, but it was proving too powerful to prevent. This weakened state nearly consumed her, as she lay in her bed, refusing food and water, praying for the merciful angel of death to appear at her door.

Instead of seeing the Reaper, she began living through one ghoulish nightmare after another. Crazy, horrible, "turn-your-hair-white" nightmares filled the hours of unconsciousness. She awoke after each spine-tingling episode drenched with sweat, a scream frozen in her swollen throat. Sanity was slipping away as she realized that sleep meant more maddening images, but lying awake meant more suffering.

The misery had to end, but when, where and how...

Post Script: Obviously I've been watching too much "Haunted History" today (Monday - recovery day five). That being the case, I realize this story lacks a traditional monster, a bad guy who kills the girl and continues to prey on innocence. Therefore, don't look for this story to be featured on the History Channel any time soon, bringing with it a flock of tourists hoping to capture eerie poltergeist figures with Polaroids.

"Spector tourism" instead of "eco-tourism" seems to be the wave of the future. I heard today that Asheville's Grove Park Inn is making a pitch to be included on the "Most Haunted List" with its "Pink Lady" story.

Maybe if I would allow my heroine to continue her steady decline and eventually die, only to return to haunt the hills of Balsam as an apparition, eternally looking for that Pulitzer-prize winning story, Jackson County could join such "Ghost Tour" meccas as Key West, Fla., New Orleans, La., and Tombstone, Ariz.

Or I could just forget it, go back to work and tell everyone who asks, "It wasn't that bad."

Back to Archive: 11/01/01.