Bats in the Graveyard

This is a story about an adventure I had with my dear friend Brad. He passed away 2 years ago today. RIP Bradley!

                                    Bats in the Graveyard!

  Adventures with P.J. and Brad

                              (Memorizes of Bradley Evans)

 

 

          When I first met dear Brad we were both taking summer school, me because I had to take it to graduate on time and him just because he wanted to do the summer school musical, “You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown”. It was a fun summer, I must say.

 

          Bradley got the part of Charlie Brown and Mr. D. (the director) decided to split cast it so that more of the class could have time on stage. So, dear Cindy Erkenbrecher and I alternated playing the part of Lucy. Man, it sure was a real hoot!  Shane Peetree plaid the part of Snoopy, “The big star of the show”, his brother Bruce was my Lionus, and Helen Melton played, The Little Red-haired Girl.

 

         Mr. Bradley Evans, being the troublemaker he was, he was always saying snotty things about Cindy’s voice whenever she sang. She didn’t have the most lilting voice but what she did have was the spirit to stand up there and do the song. I admit that I giggled when he would make the remarks. (Being a bit of a snot myself) Thank goodness that Cindy was a good sport about it all. Yeah, she was gal with lots of class and dignity, even at the age of 17.

 

          The last day of the show was the crew party. After we finished the “last ever performance” of “You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown”, to be done by the foresaid cast, we went to the city graveyard. Now I can’t say exactly why we decided that would be a good place to go, but that’s where we went. I road in Cindy’s car on the way there, and it was a sweet ride! Her daddy owned a car dealership and she had the latest model. It was white with door-to-door plush carpeting and the seats were real leather.

 

          We all walked around the old graveyard reading some of the names on the tombstones. I remember laughing at a name, Peter Fry. “I’ve heard of a French fry, of a fish fry and stir fry but a Peter fry sounds a bit painful!” Of course nobody thought it was funny except Brad and me. We both liked bawdy humor at that time in our lives and thought the rest of the kids were L7, squares. “Well, whatever, I think it’s funny!”

 

          Then Brad spotted a mausoleum. “Hey!” he exclaimed, “A tomb!” Then he proceeded to clime on the top with me not far behind. Bradley was always trying to make things fun for himself as well as for others. And I knew where there was Bradley Evans fun couldn’t be far behind! We climbed atop the tomb and soon Bruce and Helen joined us and I think maybe Cindy. (Wow, it’s been 34 years and although my memory of high school is usually very clear in this instance it seems a bit foggy. Maybe that’s because I was really scared that night, although I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know that! )

 

          So we’re on top of this thing in the middle of a very scary old graveyard when Brad looks at me as if expecting something, maybe a scary story? (He had set the scene and I guess he thought it was my chance to tell one of my stories I was always trying to get people to listen to.)

 

         “There is an extremely scary old cemetery in Martinez where I used to live. It was started back in the early 1800, I think and there are lots of tall monuments and tombs, just like this one. Well one hot clear summer night, not much different from tonight, some friends and I decided to take a ride up to the old place to just see what would happen. There was an old shack across the road from the graveyard where it was said that the White Witch lived. Anyway it was all pretty scary to my friends and me. But we really didn’t want each other to know and be branded a coward. Just after we parked the car we heard a god awful howling sound. It was high pitched and almost a squeal. “AAAUUUUOOOOOOOEEEEEEEHHHHH!”

But we didn’t let the horrid noise detour us from entering the old cemetery.

 

           We walked around a bit until our eyes became accustom to the night’s dim lighting. Stretch walked up to a very large tomb and announced, “Let’s see what’s inside!” Well, my best friend Ruby and I slowly walked up behind him and while holding each other in fright responded, “Sure, uh, that sounds cool!” trying desperately not to sound as if we were both frightened out of our little teenage girl minds. BECAUSE WE WERE!

 

           He then proceeded to take out a bolt cutter from a black bag he had brought along with him. It was at this point that I got my first hint that he may’ve planned this, but I was too terribly scared to call him on it. Then suddenly there was a snapping noise followed by the loud creaking sound of the tomb door being opened. Then a fluttering sound of what seemed like a thousand wings. Out of the front of the tomb flew a black mass of winged creatures chirping and squealing as they flew into the dark night!”

 

          And with that I stood up my arms opened wide to dramatize the story. As I did this my arm brushed agents the branch of a near by tree waking its sleeping occupant who then franticly flew just over Brad’s head! He screamed like the squealing, howling sound in my story. And then jumped off of the tomb and ran for Bruce’s car shouting, “Bats, bats, bats. They’re trying to suck my blood!”

 

          Well needless to say we all jumped off of the monument to death and started to follow Brad’s example and hit the road. But as I hit the ground I saw a small bird’s nest lying there and realized that the frightened creature had only been a sleeping mother sparrow. With the help of Bruce I placed the nest carefully back in the niche of the tree.

 

          I wanted to explain to the frightened group what had actually happened but most of them had already left except for Brad, Bruce and me. Bruce and I went to the car where we had a bit of trouble convincing Bradley to open the doors.  But eventually he did and we all drove home in virtual silence.

 

          Just before we reached Brad’s house I tried to explain what had happened. He said, “I don’t ever want to hear about this night again!”

 

          So we never spoke of the night from that time to this. Although I have from time to time pondered it in my memory. It always gives me a bit of a frightened giggle. It brings a smile to my heart to remember my dear high school chum Bradley Evans. He shall be missed.

 

 

                                 With deepest respect and heart felt condolences, P.J.

 

Author's Note

I knew this fellow back in high school he as well as everyone else called me PJ Peggy being a nick name for Margaret. And the J is from my middle name Jean.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

A great and fun memory and a fine tribute to your friend. Sounds from the details in your story that he'd appreciate your descriptions and be honoured to be remembered so clearly. Scar experience though.

[Steve]

Very nice and sweet tribute to your friend......i am sure he would be pleased.

[Lena M. P.]

Good memory and tribute. Life depicting fiction. Good twist. Enjoyed the characters.

[Frank Terino]

I really enjoyed reading this story, sincere and well written, it took me back to another place and time
in my own life. I'm sure many people would enjoy reading this. Keep up the great work