GHOSTS IN THE GRAVEYARD

when we were kids
we used to have two nighttime games:
"town tag", and a darker game called
"ghosts in the graveyard"
which was a more chilling game played on the golf course (we'd hop or go under the fence)
with flashlights and teams.

town tag was a pretty innocent version of hide and seek
which had us using the downtown center triangle as a safe zone,
and the surrounding shops, parking lots and gangways
as hiding spots.

ghosts in the graveyard was much more spooky,
with the potential for dramatic consequences.

because not only were we trying to scare each other,
there was always the mystery of the flashlight wielding night watchman
who could easily be mistaken for a friend in the moonlight. often,
i'd see someone walking with a flashlight in the distance
only to quietly wonder if it was matt molloy
or the security guard,
rumored to have one eye and a hook for a hand. someone once said that his wife had died
and since then
he wandered the golf course looking for her in the night - ha ha...kid
stories.

there were times i was really scared to my bones. there was the time,
i was centered near the 7th hole on the course,
and either tommy molloy or mike boland blew off an m-80
so loud it sent the birds leaping from their tree tops
and in to the night sky. immediately
i saw a flashlight running near the next hole. the explosion was followed
by an eery silence only cut by my footsteps below me
running for the fence. i could smell the smoke drifting in the breeze
as the flashlight drew closer.

"ghost in the graveyard! ghost in the graveyard!!" i screamed,
running. but the flashlight just seemed to come faster and faster.

i ran for the hole in the fence,
rolling under it as the wires scraped at my arms.

"get back here kid!"
i heard.

it wasn't mike boland,
that was for sure. tommy molloy either.

i made my way to naperville road
at top
top top speed. my lungs huffing.

i ran for coe road,
through the cagan's back yard,
hopping yard toys and bushes
like an antelope running for its life.

i finally made it to my yard,
up the back steps and in through the sliding door to the kitchen.

no one was awake.

and i kept the lights off as i quietly made my way to my room,
looking out the windows to see if anyone had followed me.

my heart was pounding so loudly
i was sure someone could hear it.

i closed my eyes tightly
and slipped in to my bed. my heart was still pounding
and somehow i could still smell that smoke in my nose.

i kept seeing that flashlight coming toward me
in my mind. time seemed to stand still
and i was waiting,
waiting,
waiting...

somehow i feel asleep
and the next morning when the phone rang
i was sure it was the police...or worse.

i listened to my mother answer the phone,
talk a while,
then hang up.

i closed my eyes tight again
as my heart began to pound again.

"breakfast!!!"
i heard her yell.

it was like a weight had been lifted off my chest.

i slowly made my way in to the dining room
where my mother was setting the table.

as i nibbled at my breakfast i decided
that
that was the last time i'd ever play with ghosts again.

real
or imagined.