Putney Mountain: A Short Story
“Please, Miss Bishop, I’d love to go with you anywhere. We could hike the mountains around here and have a marvelous time. I could be ready in a heartbeat, but I’ll never go to Putney Mountain.” Winking at his friends, Neal laughed. “Thanks again, for the coffee. Guess, no hiking today. Have a wonderful day.” Leaving the diner, Ruth waved, they waved back. “She’s gorgeous, and stupid to think she can hike that mountain.” Dennis watched, as Ruth closed the front door. “Those country boys could never keep up with a city girl.” Ruth went to her car.
“I want to find out what’s up there.” Looking around, she drove to the tallest mountain and looked at the white fluffy clouds covering portions of the top before noticing the two-story house in
the field and stopped. Looking at the house with tiles missing and loose boards hanging from the roof. The weeping willows with their long limbs wrapped around the house and the vines covering portions of the house gave it a ghost story appearance.
“That’s the old house grandpa described,” Feeling her heart beating faster at the possibility of locating such a fabulous ghost story.
Walking across the field covered with weeds, and bushes, Ruth thought she saw someone looking out the window before she watched an ole man stagger out the front door, down the steps and out into the yard. At first, he frightened her when he started toward her, but she wanted to talk to him, and went up the gravel road to meet him, stopping in front of his house.
“Hi there,” she said.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Even though, he sounded cranky as he came towards her and frightened her, she refused to move. Telling him her name was Ruth Bishop, and she wanted to discuss the mountain behind his house. As soon as he told her his name was Ernest Cassidy, he recalled the Bishop name, and asked if she had relatives living town.
“I want to find out what’s up there.” Looking around, she drove to the tallest mountain and looked at the white fluffy clouds covering portions of the top before noticing the two-story house in
the field and stopped. Looking at the house with tiles missing and loose boards hanging from the roof. The weeping willows with their long limbs wrapped around the house and the vines covering portions of the house gave it a ghost story appearance.
“That’s the old house grandpa described,” Feeling her heart beating faster at the possibility of locating such a fabulous ghost story.
Walking across the field covered with weeds, and bushes, Ruth thought she saw someone looking out the window before she watched an ole man stagger out the front door, down the steps and out into the yard. At first, he frightened her when he started toward her, but she wanted to talk to him, and went up the gravel road to meet him, stopping in front of his house.
“Hi there,” she said.
“Who are you and what do you want?” Even though, he sounded cranky as he came towards her and frightened her, she refused to move. Telling him her name was Ruth Bishop, and she wanted to discuss the mountain behind his house. As soon as he told her his name was Ernest Cassidy, he recalled the Bishop name, and asked if she had relatives living town.