textfiles/stories/nitepeek.sto

		          "Peek in the Night"
	

		-a look at one of the greener shades of life-
 
	 	Written by: SomeOne Who Wants To Keep His Name 
			    Anonymous To The Modem World, -or-
			    Plainly Called/Remembered by 'Night Words'.
			    [Note: Not to be Confused with the modem
			     User of the same Name, of whom I hereby
			     bluntly Rape his/her Handle.  Hey, I liked it.
			     It says something.  Those two words.  Night Words.

			     This story originally written in mid-November
			     of 1989 for a Creative Writing class at an Ohio
			     college.  It IS, however, copyrighted, (why
			     anyone would take from this I don't know) and 
			     cannot be reprinted without the permission of the
			     Writer or the staff of the Alleghaney Review, 
			     who also have rights to the story.  Oh, that's
			     in Pennsylvania, in case you're interested. 
			     Alleghaney College.     3-3-90

			     I Love The Now.]
		       


























	"You said we never do anything exciting," Jennifer said as she

    pulled on Rob's arm.  "Well come on!"

	Rob quickly reajusted his feet to avoid falling as Jennifer tugged

    him down her  street.  Jennifer's house, being comfortably sized and in

    the middle of a semi-wooded lot, was situated on a desolate, lonely road

    in their hometown.  The rest of the city, including where Rob lived, was

    mainly newer developments that were less wooded and imposing.

    Jennifer's street, about 1OOO feet long, had only five houses on it, all

    of which housed middle-aged couples who had found a place to settle for

    the years, and were deep set into their respective properties, which

    gave the street a very private and mildly exquisite flavor.  Jennifer's

    house was the second one on the left side of the street, a comfortable

    two-and-a-half-story brick home, with a gravel drive bordered by maples

    and a rose garden in the back, complete with sundial and flagstone paths.

    A beveled glass hex of a window at the top center of the house where the

    roof formed a point signified Jennifer's bedroom.
	
	As Jennifer pulled him past his blue Toyota, which was parked on the

    street, he remembered their conversation earlier that afternoon.

	"What do you want to do tonight?" she had asked him.

	"I dunno," he had said, "I really don't know anymore.  Just something

    exciting."

	She told him that she'd take care of it, and now she's dragging him

    down her street.  Taking a walk isn't exactly my idea of exciting, he

    thought.	

	"C'mon, over here," she said, eagerly skipping down the old road with

    more grace than any dancer he'd seen.

	"I don't have a choice.  You're DRAGGING me," he replied.

	"Oh, don't be such a baby."

	Her street bled into a busy State Route, and when they came up to it,

    she just ran across as if she'd rehearsed for days and it had become 

    second nature.  "Where the hell are you taking me?" he asked her.

	"Just wait," she said.  "You're too impatient."

	On the other side of the road, they stopped underneath an ancient elm

    which was grasping onto its last orange leaves with what appeared to be 

    all the strength it could muster.  The handiwork of Fall lay scattered

    across the area amid a sensless jumble of stone markers which Jennifer

    was silently pointing at.

	"Well, what are they?" he asked her.  He'd drove past this a thousand

    times before and never noticed what it was.  To him it had always been a

    small clearing across from his girlfriend's street.

	"Graves.  But there's no people here.  Just graves.  Kinda neat, huh?"

    A smile expulged from her face.  She looked happy.

	"What are graves doing here without people?"

	"Well you see," she explained, "when they built the road, which, by

    the way, was at one time the main highway, not just little Route 12, they

    had to move this cemetary.  Well they couldn't dig up all of the rotted

    coffins and move them so they just moved the stones over here.  And Dad

    says they didn't even lay them right, so that's why they're all jumbley

    like that.  We've never seen anyone come here to pay respects, either.

    Isn't this neat?"

	"Yeah.  It's neat all right, but it's definitely NOT exciting."

	"Well c'mon.  I'm not through yet."  She grabbed his arm.

	She dragged him past the rubble and against the top of a slowly

    sloping ravine.  The area was completely wooded and the ground was

    carpeted with a rug of yellow and orange.  There was forest as far as

    he could see, well past the fifty feet or so to the bottom of the

    valley, past the top of the other side, and travelling onward

    ad infinitum on both his left and right sides.  At the bottom of the

    valley lay a freshwater creek, about ten feet wide and having a depth

    ranging from one to thirteen inches deep.  Leaves dirtied its surface

    and stones jettisoned out from its depths.

	"You go up the other side," Jennifer told him, "and you'll hit the

    Baylab plant.  Down to the left about a mile, the valley disappears and

    the creek crosses through the city hall's backyard.  You know where

    that is, by the library?"

	"Yeah.  But I'm still not sure how they get to the Baylab plant."

	"Neither am I.  Maybe they live up there, and never leave."  They

    laughed. 

	"So what are we doing down here, anyway?" he asked.  "I mean, it's

    scenic and all, but --"

	"Just follow me," she said, once again pulling him along.  They turned

    to the right side of the creek, and so they were travelling south.  A

    sudden CAW-CAAW boomed through the valley, interrupting their five-minute

    silence and causing Jennifer to jump.  "Mating bird," Rob told her.

	They trudged along at a liesurely pace at the base of the creek, 

    stepping on rocks and patches of leaves for support.  After Jennifer

    finally reassured Rob with a "we're almost there," he jumped.

    "Look!" he hoarsely whispered in her ear.

	Some distance ahead they could see several figures, one all white and

    the others dressed predominantly in black.  Rob did not know what to

    make of them, and the few shouts that he thought he heard were

    unintelligible.

	"They look like Satanists," he said.  "The one in white has a baseball

    bat.  See it?  Let's get a closer look."  He inched forward a few feet.

	"No," she whined.  "Rob, this is scary.  I don't want to go."  Her 

    pleas went unheard as Rob walked closer, eyes squirming to get a better

    view.  Suddenly the five figures ran off, their legs pounding the ground

    and making the forest air reverberate.  "They're just kids," he said.

    "Don't worry."

	She led the way to the top of the ravine, where they found a well-

    worn path, as of one used for a toolshed.  "We're here," she said.

	They walked down the path, past two great slabs of granite, one on

    each side, which at one time were connected.  "Must've been one helluva

    glacier," Rob said.  The path bended to the left and they came upon a

    small stone bridge which held them up about ten feet above a tributary

    of the creek.

	"Quaint," Jennifer said.  "Like Hansel and Gretel picture books."

	Before he had time to answer, Jennifer's scream rang through the

    woods.  "What's wrong?" he shouted.  "Th-they're dogs.  Scared me," she

    said.  "They weren't kids.  They're dogs.  Look."  She pointed towards

    the wooded area by the creek, twenty feet below and four hundred feet

    distant.  

	Rob looked but could not see them.  "Where?"  he asked her.  "Over

    there," she insisted, finger not moving.  "Where, I don't see," he

    said.  As much as she sounded crazy, he knew that he cared about her and

    therefore did not doubt her.

        "Now they're gone," she said, "but believe me, I saw them."

	"Yeah, I believe you," he answered her.  "But it's going to be dark in

    a few minutes.  What do you say we head back?"

	"I'm not done yet -- the best is yet to come!" 

	"Go for it."  he said, sitting on the bridge and looking into the

    woods.

	"Turn around," she told him.  He held his breath and turned around.

	When he registered what he saw, he released his breath and uttered a

    whoop of amazement.  The tributary under the bridge ran into a still pond, 

    which he could tell from where he was sitting was stocked with panfish. 

    The path twisted off to the left, circled the pond, then ran off into

    the woods.  Beyond the pond area was a grassy clearing about the size

    of a university gymnasium, and on the other side a hill rose up about

    fifty feet, layered with the most magnificent terraces he'd ever seen,

    much more elaborate and breathtaking than any man-made wonder he knew.

    There must have been thirty of them in all -- some only a few feet wide,

    plain and utilitarian steps, and others, from what he could make of them

    from such a distance, were decorated with stones, flowers and shrubs.

    As a whole the hill was geometrically pleasing and a treat for the eyes.

    At the top of the hill sat a large white house.

	"Wow," he said.  "Who owns this land?"

	"The Dellagiers.  They live up there."

	"They must be rich."

	"They're millionaires."

	"How come I've never heard of them?  This isn't that big of a town."

	"They keep to themselves.  Mom first heard about them at the beauty

    shop, and yesterday afternoon I asked around and found out how to get

    here.  They live off of 12.  You know those two lanterns about a mile

    south of my house?  Well that's their driveway.  I heard that they used

    to be a real influential family, but they got old and their kids moved

    away and stuff.  Now they're just two old people living in retirement.

    And I guess this place used to be a lot nicer, but it got rundown over

    the years."

	"Jeez, think of the parties we could throw..." he said, dreamy-eyed.

    "Someday, Jennifer, someday.  I can see it already -- the fire, the

    volleyball net, complete refreshment bar, people crawling the place...

    Tell me it wouldn't be great.  Just tell me."  With that, they sat there

    and watched the sun set behind the house.

	"Rob?" Jennifer said in a worried tone.

	"What?"

	"It's getting dark.  Be real dark soon.  And we have to get back."

	A tingly feeling slid down his back and was augmented by her

    trembling, nervous tone.  He looked around himself, at the woods, the

    ravine, and the creeping darkness, and felt a sudden sickness.

	"Holy shit," he said, and stood up.

	Jennifer sat there.  Damn her, he thought.  "C'mon, get up!" he cried.

    She slowly stood up.  "We've got a long walk."

	"No shit.  So let's get going, please."  He took her hand and guided

    her through the path.  As they came to the graite rock, she whispered

    in his ear, "who knows who could be hiding behind those rocks.  Let's

    be careful."  "Shut up!"  Beads of prespiration became visible on his

    forehead.  He knew about the loonies that lurked the woods at night.

    This was no laughing matter.  Lord knows who could be in these woods

    with them.  And those damn dogs -- where had they gone?  Were they

    people after all?  "We can't go down there," he said in reference to

    the bottom of the valley.  "Follow me, we'll make a beeline for the

    top of the cliff over there."  He led her up the embankment in a

    diagonal route through a mound of broken boulders.  "Watch your step,

    and hurry up," he said, slipping on a rock, which made him quicken his

    pace.  When they reached the top, they saw a white house only twenty

    feet ahead of them, similar in design to the Dellagier mansion, but

    much smaller.  What kept them back was a fence, stretching from where

    they stood to an unseen destination in both directions.  A compost pile

    against the fence spilt its contents a few feet down the hill to where

    Rob stood.  "Damn!" he said, wrenching the filth in his hands.  "We're

    trapped!"

	"No, no, we're still by the Dellagier's property.  They've had the

    whole thing fenced in, we just got around it back by the bridge.  We'll

    just have to go back down and come up by the graveyard."

	"Jennifer, by the time we get down to the bottom it'll be pitch

    black."

	"Okay.  Let's just sit here all night."

	He realized the lack of choices the situation gave him.  "Alright.

    Then let's go."  He pushed off into the night, Jennifer following.

    "Just keep up, just keep up with me," he hissed.

	Thorns tore his face as he raced down the hill.  Was that another set

    of footsteps he heard racing towards them, or just his imagination?  He

    had the most convincing feeling that they were being followed.  His

    heart fluttered and the blood gathered around his ears.

	"Wait up, Rob," Jennifer pleaded.

	Rob ran for dear life.  Run, man.  Run like hell, he thought.

	Stumbling, his hands clawed the dirt for support.  Briars entangled

    their twisting vines in his hair and a cold breeze hit the back of his

    neck.

	He was sure that it was the Reaper.  Blue Oyster Cult oh God no.

	The hill became steeper and he pushed onward without letting up.  

    Soon a warm glow filled his eyes and he looked up at the streetlight.

    The evening traffic on State Route 12 was the friendliest sight he'd

    seen all day.  Looking back at the wooded graveyard, he saw Jennifer

    emerge from the underbrush, a disappointed look on her face.

	"Had ya goin', didn't I?" he asked her.

	"You!" she accused him.

	"Hey, let's jog!"  She took up the offer and they quickly raced back

    to his car, which they entered.  He sarted up the engine and said, "What

    does it look like, the mall?"

	"Yes, but look at yourself," Jennifer said with disbelief.  "Your face

    is cut up, your hands are dirty and you're covered with dirt and

    prickers.  I think you'd better clean yourself up first, Mister."



[NOT FORMATTED FOR ANYTHING IN PARTICULAR. PRINT IT OUT]