Halloween

Pumpkins and Dragonflies: A Short Story for Halloween by Eva Jordan

/ Eva Jordan / 3 Comments

Sally’s brother waited for her by the school gate. Arms folded, he was grinning, watching the other students file past. He was fatter in the face now. Looked more like the Ben from before. Before he got sick… before the cancer. He spotted her, raised his hand and waved. Sally waved back. Two girls walking beside her looked to see who she was waving at: exchanged glances and sniggered. Sally blushed; turned away.

            ‘Hey,’ said Ben, when she reached him. ‘Are those girls being mean?’        

            Sally waved her hand dismissively. ‘Nothing I can’t handle. They just think I’m a bit… weird. Anyway… how’s you?’

            Ben’s face deflated like a balloon. ‘OK… I suppose. Can’t wait till I’m well enough to start school again, though. Then I won’t have to listen to Mum and Dad arguing all the time.’

            ‘Did they argue this morning?’

            ‘Yep. As soon as you left. Then Dad stormed off and Mum started crying… again… before falling asleep. I wouldn’t mind, but she keeps sleeping on my bed for some weird reason?’               

            Sally’s heart sank.      

            ‘Do you think they’ll split up?’ continued Ben.

            Sally shrugged, unease fizzing in her belly. ‘I hope not. C’mon, let’s go home.’ They walked in silence for a few minutes; a copper carpet of leaves crunching beneath their feet. It was Halloween and scary looking pumpkin faces glared at them from the windows of the various houses they passed.

            ‘Do you remember that year we went Trick or Treating and you dressed up as a dragonfly?’

            Ben laughed. ‘Yeah. I do. I love dragonflies.’

            A sudden gust of wind stirred the leaves at their feet, scattering them like confetti. Giggling, Sally threw her hands up; caught a handful. Amongst them was a white feather. ‘Look,’ she said, showing Ben. ‘It’s a sign. It’s Nanna.’

            Ben rolled his eyes. ‘You don’t still believe in that rubbish do you… about angels and ghosts?’

            Sally shrugged. ‘Maybe…’

            At home, their mother, eyes red and still wearing her dressing gown, said she needed a nap. Sally made herself something to eat, then sat beside Ben at the table. He was studying the white feather she’d brought home.           

            ‘Before she passed away,’ said Sally, ‘Nanna used to say that a ghost is the spirit of a dead person stuck in this world because a loved one can’t or won’t let them go… and the only way for the ghost to move on is to give their loved one a sign; let them know they’re OK.’

            Ben looked stunned.

            The following day Ben didn’t meet Sally outside school, which saddened her a little, but it was a relief to see her Mum dressed and smiling again.

            ‘Look,’ said Sally’s mother, pointing to a picture of a dragonfly in one of Ben’s books. ‘It opened on this page when I picked it up. Then I heard a tapping noise at the window and when I looked up, I saw the most amazing dragonfly. And I knew, Sal… I just knew Ben was OK.’

©Eva Jordan

The Legend of Black Shuck

/ Eva Jordan / 2 Comments

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Modern day celebrations of Halloween generally involve groups of children dressed in scary costumes roaming from house to house, demanding a “trick-or-treat”. However, traditionally, Halloween is also a time for telling ghost stories. Therefore, with a mind to keep things local (to me) I thought we’d take a look at “Black Shuck”, the name given to a ghostly black dog – supposedly the inspiration behind Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Hound of the Baskervilles novel – said to roam the coastline and countryside of East Anglia.

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Research suggests the name Shuck may come from the old Anglo-Saxon word “scaucca” or “scucca” which means a “demon”, or it may be based on the local dialect word “shucky” meaning “shaggy” or “hairy”. A creature of legend, alleged sightings of Black Shuck vary in both shape and size but usually include a large dog with large red or yellow eyes, or sometimes one huge eye in the middle of the ghostly black dog’s forehead. All sightings describe thick, shaggy black fur, a snarling mouth, and, most importantly, Shuck is supposedly the harbinger of death, an omen of doom, and to see him is to befall a terrible fate before the week is out.

In his “Highways & Byways in East Anglia”, published in 1901, W. A. Dutt says…

“He takes the form of a huge black dog, and prowls along dark lanes and lonesome field footpaths, where, although his howling makes the hearer’s blood run cold, his footfalls make no sound. You may know him at once, should you see him, by his fiery eye; he has but one, and that, like the Cyclops, is in the middle of his head. But such an encounter might bring you the worst of luck: it is even said that to meet him is to be warned that your death will occur before the end of the year. So you will do well to shut your eyes if you hear him howling; shut them even if you are uncertain whether it is the dog fiend or the voice of the wind you hear. Should you never set eyes on our Norfolk Snarleyow you may perhaps doubt his existence, and, like other learned folks, tell us that his story is nothing but the old Scandinavian myth of the black hound of Odin, brought to us by the Vikings who long ago settled down on the Norfolk coast.”

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An article posted in the Peterborough Advertiser in 1936 states that local people used to shun the A605 road between Whittlesey and Coates during the hours of darkness because of the ‘Shuck Dog’ said to haunt the highway at night. The creature is large, black, has “great yellow eyes”, and “brings sure death to anyone he meets.” However, other stories describe the Shuck as assisting lone women, wandering or lost in the night, to safety.

Perhaps, late at night, if you listen hard enough, you’ll hear Black Shuck howling …?

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