Homer's Mill

By Xlibris US

A small Ohio town has been visited by a mysterious light for years. At first, it was just "there." Then people started getting harmed when they came in contact with it. What changed it from a benevolent entity to a force of evil?
A group of townspeople gather to try to figure out what or who it is. They become close despite a great diversity in ages. Two of them locate the personality behind the light. That person comes back to Homer's Mill with disastrous results. Along the way, Ann Lawson locates her birth parents, leaving her with conflicting emotions.
If you are interested in the paranormal, UFOs, etc., you will enjoy Homer's Mill.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499079739

Book preview

May, 1984

Chapter One

I don’t care what anybody says, it’s haunted, stated Jimmy firmly, as he looked out his window up the hill towards the old school house.

My big sister says all buildings that old are haunted, replied his best friend Billy, with a knowing air.

Have you ever seen the lights? asked Jimmy.

Naw. I can’t see from where I live and my mom won’t let me out after dark.

Neither will mine, but that old tree at the end of the porch is real good for climbing, grinned Jimmy.

Don’t they hear you?

You kidding? Once they get me to bed and they get back to the T.V. they don’t hear nothin’. I go all over.

Je-ee-ez, sighed Billy enviously. "Hey, can we go out tonight?

Sure. Just give my mom and dad a little longer. They take a while to get settled down. They have to get their snacks and make a couple of trips to the bathroom.

Jimmy was loving his role as safari leader.

Billy was sure he was in for a really big adventure. He could hardly wait!

When Jimmy decided the time was right, they went out the window, crawled along the porch roof and climbed down the tree. Billy had climbed lots of trees but never in the dark. Between the darkness and his excitement, he nearly missed the last limb.

Be careful, hissed Jimmy. Didn’t you ever climb a tree before?

Sure. Lots of times, whispered Billy indignantly.

Jimmy ought to know he could climb trees. They did a lot of things together. At least in the daytime. Billy was seeing a side of Jimmy he had never known about. Now Billy knew why Jimmy always seemed to know so much about what everyone in town was doing. Jimmy always had something new to tell. Billy always thought Jimmy made up all that stuff, but boy, he really got around! He probably even looked in windows!

When they were finally on the ground, Jimmy naturally took the lead. He had a flashlight but they didn’t dare use it. Besides, it was more exciting finding their way in the dark. Billy stumbled a few times but soon adjusted to the moonlight.

Using Heffleman’s rosebushes as a shield, they sneaked to the end of the yard and past the old barn that was partially converted to a garage. It had lots of junk in it and a really great loft. The boys had spent many days puttering and messing around in there, but in the dark, even this old familiar building was a little scary.

They scooted across the street and hid in the driveway by the church. A high bank gave them protection. They sat down to decide where to go.

Do you want to go in the church? I know a door I can open easy.

What would we do in there? asked Billy.

His church activities had included attendance at services, Sunday School, and one brief season in the youth choir. He had never looked on the church as a particularly fun sort of place.

We can do all kinds of stuff. C’mon, I’ll show you, replied Jimmy.

He loved the idea of showing off what he knew about the church.

They sneaked inside where they tried on choir robes, laughing at how silly they looked. Leaving the robes in a heap, they wandered into the sanctuary where they gave mock sermons. Billy gave a particularly good imitation of Rev. Houser. That surprised even Billy. He didn’t think he had listened that well. Billy wanted to play the organ but Jimmy reminded him that someone might hear it and spoil all their fun. Jimmy was not about to admit he had not been able to conquer the lock on the organ. They cruised back to the classrooms. They found some pictures in the first grade room and colored one each, not an easy thing to do by what little light filtered in through the window. They scrawled a few dirty words on the third grade chalk board, smirking at what they were sure Mrs. King’s reaction would be when she came in the next Sunday morning. They shook the box that was used for the collection of the birthday money, hoping for a few pennies. They forgot it was always reported on at the end of Sunday School and taken by the treasurer. By that time they were usually too busy talking to listen to some dumb old report. They went into Rev. Houser’s study and prowled through his desk drawers. One was locked but Jimmy soon had it open. Billy was shocked and Jimmy cocky with knowledge, when a flask was revealed. There wasn’t much in it so they polished it off. After the coughing and tears subsided, they laughed insanely, took the flask to the water fountain, and filled it to the exact level it had shown before.

Rev. Houser will just have a fit. Sure wish I could be here to see his face, chortled Billy.

They replaced the flask and closed the drawer without bothering to attempt to relock it. They decided the church had given them a pretty good time, but they should move on.

They had just moved outside when the porch light came on at the parsonage next door. They scampered behind a big oak tree. Rev. Houser stepped out onto the porch and called, Who’s there? He flashed a light around, but seeing nothing went back in, muttering, Thought sure I saw something. Behind the tree, Jimmy whispered, Probably from too many nips from that bottle! Billy cracked up laughing. Jimmy poked him in the ribs and said, Be quiet or he’ll come back ou-hou-hou… and Jimmy was off into gales of laughter himself.

When they had themselves under control except for an occasional snicker, Jimmy suggested, Let’s go over to Carla Bates’s. Sometimes she sits back of her house in the car with her boy friend and makes out.

Yeah, let’s do it!

One of Billy’s favorite activities was spying on his big sister when her boy friend was there.

Jimmy usually climbed a big maple tree to spy on Carla but their timing was not very good that night. Car lights flashed and they were nearly caught in the glare. They ducked behind a heavy growth of lilacs. Jimmy knew every bush in town that provided a hiding place. The car pulled up under the maple tree as Jimmy knew it would. From that spot, it hid Carla and Tom in case Carla’s mother looked out from her kitchen window.

As Carla and Tom became more and more engrossed in each other’s bodies, Jimmy and Billy started sneaking from the lilac bushes to a spot behind the tree. The gentle breeze that had been blowing all evening picked up in intensity. It caught a dead section of a limb and brought it down on top of the car. Carla and Tom sat up abruptly and she spotted the boys.

Carla pushed the car door open and charged out yelling, Jimmy Heffleman, you sneaking, rotten little spy! I’m gonna smack you when I get my hands on you!

She started to chase them. As soon as Tom could rearrange himself and get out of the car, he joined in the chase. Jimmy had the advantage of being used to prowling around in the dark. Billy had a harder time but they had a head start on Carla and Tom didn’t know his way around.

Ducking and scrambling, the boys pushed their way up the hill, crawling under bushes as much as possible to keep Carla and Tom from seeing them. Tom soon gave up after falling several times. Mrs. Bates had turned on the outside lights at hearing the commotion and came to the back door to inquire what on earth was going on out there. Carla stormed into the house muttering nasty things about sneaking little brats. Tom got back in his car and charged out, spinning his wheels and spraying gravel all over.

When the excitement died down, Jimmy and Billy realized they were on the old path that used to go up to the old schoolhouse.

At one time it had been a well-worn, wide path, tramped smooth by many feet, but since the school had been abandoned during the big consolidation movement of the 1960’s, the path had become weed-grown. Water had run unchecked to form gullies. Jimmy and Billy were grateful for these since they were what had tripped Tom. Rocks projected, ready to trip anyone foolhardy enough to attempt the climb. Exposed tree roots lay in wait to finish the job on what-ever unsuspecting toes the rocks missed. There was a wide road leading up to the school, but the boys were afraid someone might see them if they took the easy way.

Wanna go up to the old schoolhouse? asked Jimmy.

I don’t know…

Whatsa matter, you scared? sneered Jimmy.

’Course not, retorted Billy. His heart was pounding so hard he thought Jimmy must be able to hear it but he didn’t dare let Jimmy know how afraid he was or Jimmy would tell everybody they knew.

They pushed and struggled the rest of the way to the top. They stood there for a while, glowing with success and excitement. None of their friends had ever been brave enough to actually come here. They just talked about it a lot.

Hidden by the growth of many years, they walked boldly over to the steps that went up the hill in front of the two buildings. The steps were wide and shallow. Designed as a loading spot for buses, they had become more than that over the years. The steps had served as an arena for Mother, may I?, Simon Says, and seats for an audience during lunch-time impromptu talent shows.

The steps leveled off in front of the buildings and sidewalks led in both directions, with another one going between the buildings. Hedges, once neatly clipped, lined the walks. Left to run wild, the hedges had grown over the front walks so that Billy and Jimmy had to force their way through.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Both boys froze in their tracks.

What’s that? asked Billy in a shaky whisper.

I don’t know. I never heard it before, replied Jimmy in an equally shaky whisper.

It’s coming from between the buildings, said Billy.

They slowly crept up to the brick gate posts and cautiously peered around them.

Clang! Clang! Clang! came the sound from nearly over their heads. They looked up not knowing what to expect. The old hollow flag pole had a short piece of rope left on it towards the top. The rest had rotted away and lay in pieces at the foot of the pole. The breeze blowing over the roof of the elementary building banged the edge of the rope against the pole. As they watched, the last bit of rope gave out and slithered to the ground. Both boys jumped even though it was only an old rope as Jimmy said with disgust.

The sidewalk between the two buildings was not quite as overgrown as the ones in front. Jimmy led the way and they walked through. The high school building extended beyond the elementary building. The window wells had metal bars that were great to swing on. Then they discovered where someone had broken a window and left an opening big enough to go through.

Jimmy remembered his flashlight. He dug it out of his pocket and turned it on. They were in an old home economics room. A few old stoves had been left behind as well as a few tables. Nothing interested them there. They charged out the door and down the hall. The room opposite was totally vacant. Down further, a counter had been left, along with an outdated element chart. No good stuff had been left like an old beaker or petri dish or animals in formaldehyde.

The next room really excited them. It was the girls’ rest room! Barred from the one where they went to school, it had taken on a mystique all out of proportion to what it actually contained, as they found out to their disgust.

It’s just like the bathroom at home, except it has more places and no tub. Big deal, snorted Billy.

Yeah, but who else will know that? We can still tell them we were in the girls’ bathroom. We just don’t tell them everything, explained Jimmy.

The next room had looked dark and mysterious from the outside. It had been partially hidden by bushes and in their imaginations, strange and eerie things had gone on in that room so hidden by foliage. It had some old rusty music stands and a cabinet in the corner contained a few shreds of choral music that no modern-day high school person would be caught dead singing. To their delight, an old upright piano stood in the corner. Part of the black keys were missing and most of the ivories were gone but the two boys thoroughly enjoyed a clashing duet of cluster chords. Billy absentmindedly put one of the loose ivories in his pocket as they turned to go.

Across the hall was the gymnasium. The equipment room had been forced open long ago. A few old basketballs remained, without air. Everything else that wasn’t nailed down had already been stolen years ago. They romped across the gym floor and onto the stage. Fired by the earlier sermon they leaped and cavorted about the stage, having pretend sword fights and giving speeches and just generally acting silly. Billy jumped too far and became entangled in the dusty old velvet curtain. He experienced a few moments of panic before Jimmy came to his rescue. They followed the curtain back to where the controls were and joyously pulled the curtain closed and open several times until it came down with a whoosh, clatter, and clouds of dust. They were stunned for a few minutes but soon recovered.

Billy glanced toward the corridor and poked Jimmy.

Look! he whispered.

The music room glowed faintly in a cool yellow shade. As they watched, a glowing ball appeared in the door of the music room and turned to its right. After it passed from their sight, they crept as quietly as possible down the stairs and across the gym floor, through the entrance and into the hall. As they watched, the light moved up the steps at the other end of the hall. Another flight of steps was close to them so they moved slowly up to the landing. Nothing happened so they ventured up a few steps on the next flight. As their eyes reached the level of the floor, they paused. A glow suffused the floor. They eased up one more step to have a better look. Jimmy switched off his flashlight so it wouldn’t see them.

The light moved from the steps to the old typing room and on into the old senior home room. It moved across the hall, pausing at a short panel of lockers. Vandals had torn all the doors off them. The light moved into the study hall/library/cafeteria. Most of the books were gone. A few old ones were thrown on the floor and torn apart. Someone had left a pile of excrement and used some of the pages for tissue.

From there the light moved to a room across the hall where many classes had been held including history, Latin, and social studies. The light came out again, pausing briefly at a door down the hall, then floated across to the gym. It floated down the steps, across the basketball court and onto the stage. The two boys had moved to the opposite door of the gym to keep track of the light.

The light made a right exit then crossed the stage. They soon saw it in the small room to their left. Another old upright piano stood there. It had ushered in many graduating classes as well as furnishing music for many Class Days. The light paused by the piano and the boys were astounded to hear a light strain of music coming from the old piano or from the light. The light turned and crossed the court once more and moved up the steps toward them. They eased gently but quickly back to the steps they had first come up.

It came out of the door and moved away from them. It paused at the door to the superintendent’s office. It seemed to be waiting for someone or something, unaware of the mess vandals had made of the office. The boys carefully backed down the steps to the landing. The light came toward them again. It turned and went into the room at the top of the stairs.

Jimmy and Billy, suddenly gripped with fright, pushed against the bar on the door behind them and said a prayer of thanks to the people who had jimmied the doors so they would not close. They moved as fast as possible through the hedged tunnel. When they reached the bottom of the steps, they looked back. The light was in the window of the room where they had last seen it. It seemed to be focused north of town.

The boys ran toward the road, no longer caring who might see them, just wanting the safety of Jimmy’s bedroom. At the road they looked back again. The light was outside, floating over the hedges, and coming toward them! They rushed pell mell down the hill, nearly fainting with fright when Billy fell down, scraping his arm and tearing a hole in his pants. Sobbing, they ran on, cutting through yards and stumbling through flower beds. The light continued to follow them. If only they could get back to the bedroom, they would be safe, they thought.

When they reached the tree, Jimmy went up first, climbing like a squirrel. Billy had just reached the second branch when the light passed over Jimmy. Jimmy felt all the hair on his body stand on end. He missed the branch he was reaching for and plunged to the ground with a shriek. Jimmy passed out. Whether it was from the pain of his broken arm or fright, no one would ever know.

The porch light flashed on, dissipating the light that had followed them. Jimmy’s parents came rushing out wanting to know what had happened. Mrs. Heffleman cradled Jimmy in her arms while his father ran to call the doctor. The neighbors rushed out to see what all the commotion was about. In the confusion, Billy cautiously climbed down the tree.

As Jimmy began to regain consciousness, he kept mumbling, The light…the light…

What does he mean? What light? asked his mother frantically. She spotted Billy skulking around on the edge of the crowd. Billy! What light? What happened? Are you all right? What were you boys doing outside?

As Billy came closer, she saw his ripped pants and scraped arm.

Billy, what happened to you? Did you boys hurt yourselves climbing the tree? What…

Yeah. That’s what happened. We were playing in the tree…Tarzan…you know…and Jimmy missed the limb and fell and I got hurt on the tree sliding down to see if he was hurt …and…

Billy did not usually cry but this seemed like a good time to do so. It worked. She reached out and put an arm around him and tried to comfort him. He hated to admit it, but he needed a little comforting right then.

Mr. Heffleman came out to give them the news that the doctor was on his way. He had also called Billy’s parents and they were on their way. Everyone tried to tell him about Jimmy talking about a light. Finally Mr. Heffleman asked Billy, What about the light he was talking about?

I dunno, shrugged Billy. He just could not tell any of them about the light or what they were doing or anything they had seen.

Who would believe them anyway?

Chapter Two

Laura Prescott sat with a sick daughter. She lived in an old house on the hill east of the old schoolhouse. She often looked toward the schoolhouse and remembered earlier days there both as a schoolgirl and as a teacher.

There it is again, she thought. She had seen the light several times before. She knew some of the teenagers partied there from talk she overheard. It always bothered her to think that the schoolhouse was used now only for such activities. There was no point in trying to get them to stop. They were not interested in anything that was not in their own time-frame. Actually, they did not seem to be interested in anything but partying.

Laura had a soft spot for the old building. She had attended there all 12 years and had come back to teach for four years before it was caught up in consolidation. Her head told her that the new school was better equipped and better administered but in her heart she could not shake the feeling that maybe education was better in the smaller schools.

Even in a small school there were cliques that seemed to do everything but with lots of small schools, the total number of people participating then was more than now. The cliques still existed and a few people did many things while a large number of students just existed. She thought with some bitterness of the class she advised. The number of involved people was not much more than when she was in school. It was a small group considering that at least four schools had consolidated, including the Catholic school that had closed after a parochial school aid bill was defeated in the 1970’s.

The basketball and football teams and cheerleading squads still had the same number. Projects that once were class projects such as plays and yearbooks had been opened to all four grades as clubs. It was hard to find teachers willing to act as advisors for extra-curricular clubs unless there was financial inducement.

When Laura was in school, whoever was class advisor was stuck with the direction of the class play. The results were not very professional but it involved the entire class in one way or another. Now the drama club had a semi-professional person coming in on a special services basis. The results were beautiful, but relatively few students were involved and the person in charge frequently forgot that there were assignments and tests in the academic area. There was an intensity that left humor and a sense of fun and the cohesiveness of doing something as a class something to be remembered by the middle-aged.

The yearbook had been a project for seniors only. Granted, the clique usually did the lay-outs, but everyone sold ads and sold the yearbooks. No senior would have thought of not going for pictures or of not buying a yearbook. It was something the whole school was excited about. The finished product was not as slick as what was produced now with its padded covers and colored pictures, but the current yearbooks did not seem to sell well and many students did not care whether their picture was in it or not. Maybe that was one advantage of group pictures for all the classes, since they were small, except the seniors. Now all the pictures were individual. Who could get all the class together at one time anyway? They all had different schedules.

Laura could not imagine the 250 seniors in the new school doing anything together. Some were so turned off by the time they were through the melting pot of Junior High that they would never be salvaged. The kindergarten through sixth grade went to separate elementary schools and were encouraged to be competitive with each other. The seventh and eighth grades were thrown together and expected to forget former rivalries and pull together with school spirit. The administration kidded themselves that it worked but any teacher who listened knew that the old rivalries still existed. By the eighth grade, the cliques were established with little mobility either up or down.

The ones who smoked and drank and doped and partied but otherwise just existed were in one group. The name might change from school to school and from one generation to another, the element was the same. The ones who smoked and drank and doped and partied but also made decent grades and/or were jocks (male or female) were the in crowd. It left a vast number of middle people that in a smaller school would have had a chance to experience the satisfaction of doing and being.

Laura had been one of the middle people. She had not been a cheerleader but her grades had been good. She had achieved some recognition for her creative writing. She had loved being in the class plays and participating in Class Day where each class would put on a variety show for the school assembly. Since it was in the very early days of television, the audience was not very critical and everyone enjoyed themselves. Laura had spent many happy hours in school as well as some devastating ones.

She knew how cruel and intolerant children and teenagers could be. Her friend Rosalie had been a fat girl. Many days Rosalie had been driven to tears by the cruel taunts hurled by unfeeling classmates. Rosalie was Laura’s very best friend so Laura hurt and cried right along with her.

They had lost contact after graduation. The two girls had written for a time but with increasing divergence in lifestyles they soon found they had little in common but memories. The correspondence dwindled to a standstill.

Laura had been watching the light as she thought about times past. She didn’t know why she had suddenly thought of Rosalie but looking back, every time she had seen the light, it triggered memories of things she and Rosalie had done together. She watched the light as it seemed to move from the building and down the hill and on over to the Heffleman’s house. She watched and wondered as lights went on and people gathered.

Chapter Three

Down the hill and east from Laura Prescott’s was an old abandoned gravel pit. At least that’s the way people in Homer’s Mill referred to it. Actually, it was a hill with half missing where gravel had been removed.

Across the road the superintendent of the consolidated school sat in his den worrying over an upcoming millage election. The taxpayers were becoming more and more hostile. He could not understand their attitude. Frank tried to make allowances for what he considered their abysmal ignorance over the latest trends in education. Their constant demands for the school to take over more and more of the parental role was unfortunately not matched by the desire to pay the schools more for the added responsibility. Frank was not averse to giving more responsibility to the school. In fact, he believed that the schools could do a better job if they had the children from about age three clear through age eighteen and eight hours a day instead of six.

He had to admit that the public demand made upon education was trendy at best. Within his time frame, the Sputnik launch had created new demands for math and science programs. Later came the fad for physical fitness in the Kennedy administration. When computers and special education and mainlining came along the demands were even more insistent. Social reforms had made inroads as well with the demands for proper nutrition and programs for the economically disadvantaged. It seemed every year brought new demands for some program from some special interest group who had caught media attention and the legislative ear. The school system was being pushed far beyond its financial limits. Federal and state funds helped but they were sometimes cut in response to waves of taxpayer protests in addition to which payments from those departments and agencies were somewhat irregular. It was so hard planning a budget!

Frank had spent many sleepless nights trying to figure out new ways to trim the budget. His school board had several retired men who had run successful businesses and farms but had been away from the business world long enough to have little concept of current expenses. Even the younger members of the board were a problem. Since most of the businesses and farms had been family affairs with few employees, they had no experience with unions and had no idea of how Frank had to maneuver to play the game. They were always going on about how they would get tough and how so and so should be fired without realizing that union activities and legislation made many of their concepts impossible to carry out under present day situations.

Frank had been one of the more militant teachers when the union was being formed. He had fought long and hard for the union. A desire to do more had prompted him to go back for his master’s then accept a position as principal down state. He continued his education to get his Ph. D., then moved on to be assistant superintendent at another school. When his current position had become vacant (due to a heart attack on the part of his predecessor) he applied immediately. It gave him the opportunity to live in his old home town