Chapter 1 #3
The words stretched across the faded blue metal beneath the hanging Spanish moss that covered most of the sign.
Seeing the sign caused my adrenaline to kick in and an eerie feeling to crawl up my spine.
The dark skies were swollen, heavy with rain that occasionally lit up with lighting that stretched across it after the loud rumbling sound of thunder.
Even though it was distant, the thunder was so loud that it felt uncomfortably close and the reverberating sound was so intense that it mimicked a prolonged, guttural growl that was similar to a wild animal.
When the thunder clapped, it boomed with intensity that was sharp with a ripple that was long.
The feeling that washed over me made me second guess my decision on coming.
Maybe I should’ve listened to Julian and instead of parting ways I should’ve stayed with him longer.
But the pull that I felt deep within my heart along with the desire to know and learn as much as I could about a place that I’d never been to and was forbidden to know about wouldn’t let me stay.
My mom used to always say that southern towns like Magnolia remembered things longer than people did, and judging from the way Magnolia Graves sat waiting beneath the storm I could see why she would say that.
The long winding country two-lane road that was lined with Georgia pines gave a feeling of seclusion yet at the same time I felt excitement as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and continued to drive.
Looking down to the right of me and onto the passenger seat sat the leather camera case that I refused to part with. She was with me, just not in the way that I would’ve liked her to be because if my mom was still here, there would be no way that I’d be entering a town she refused to talk about.
A sign that read; Dogwood Road stood crooked beside the highway in front of an old Texaco gas station.
Looking down at the gas gauge, I was a little under a half tank, so I decided to pull in to fill up.
Plus, this was the perfect spot to snap a couple of pictures at.
I always tried to keep a full tank, never letting the gauge marker go under a half tank.
As I pulled up to the pump, a bell jingled then shortly after an older black man that looked to be every bit of in his 70’s walked up to my driver’s side window.
He didn’t smile, he didn’t frown, but he did have a look of concern on his face. A look that gave, why are you here.
“You lost?” he said in a deep southern accent.
“No sir, just stopping for gas.”
“Alls we got is regula.”
“Regular is fine. You can fill her up,” I said handing him my debit card.
“Yous not from round here…Alls we takes is cash, ma’am.”
“That’s no problem.” I replied giving him a fifty.
He took the bill out of my hand then proceeded to pump my gas while I pulled out a photo that I’d found that wasn’t in the manilla envelope while going through my mom’s things.
It was a picture that was taken somewhere in the town where a Magnolia Graves sign was posted in front of a building, but it was hard to see what type of building it was from the angle.
In the distance there was a young boy whose face was scratched out.
On the back of the picture the words; If you are looking at this, he knows I’m dead, was written in my mom’s handwriting.
When I first read it the hair on the back of my neck stood up because it was creepy and intriguing at the same time. It was almost like my mom left a clue behind and it drew me in to want to find out more which was why I felt compelled to put it to the side.
As I stared at the picture, I heard a loud click from the sound of the gas pump stopping which caused me to look up at the gas gauge which now read 390 miles.
I briefly looked back down at the picture in my hand and before I could tuck it back into the camera case the old man returned to the driver’s side window.
Taking a longer look at him, you could tell he’d spent a lot of time out in the sun.
Even though his face had wrinkles on his forehead, for the most part his skin still looked smooth like whipped butter.
“Did I give you enough?”
“Its plenty. I’ll be back shortly witcha change.” He replied as he looked down at the picture and stared at it for a few seconds. His face held an expression that was hard to read.
“You can keep the change sir. Have a good day.” I smiled as I placed the picture back into the case.
Instead of walking away, he just stood there and stared at me for a few seconds before asking, “What business you have here?”
“Just visiting the place my mom is from sir.”
“Whaddya say yo last name is?”
“It’s Sinclair?” I replied as my stomach tightened.
The old man looked back toward the main road toward Magnolia then back at me. He was looking at me as if he felt sorry for me, then said, “Ya mammy never shoulda sent you back here. Shoulda told ya tah stay away.”
“What makes you say that?”
His face went completely pale for it to be as dark as it was. Then he shook his head and as he walked off, and said, “Cause them Dubois been waiting.”
“Waiting for what?” I asked intrigued to know more, now my chest was tight.
“You…” He replied with a head nod then slowly walked off.