Somewhere southwest of here — before you get to the Red River — there’s a small town that’s typical of most Oklahoma small towns.
Between two and four thousand people live there; most of them farmers and the families of farmers. They’re good people — caring, hardworking and mostly honest. They eat at the local diner, buy their cars from the local dealer, and get their groceries at the family-owned grocery store next to the post office. It’s not a metropolis, but there’s a dry cleaners, a post office, a small newspaper and a motel.
And, as far as Oklahoma small towns go, it’s a pretty good place to live.
But on that particular year, during that particular December, an event occurred in this small town that some residents still only whisper about. Some don’t believe it happened; other swear they got the truth from “a friend of a cousin’s uncle” or some other loose, non-traceable connection.
Between two and four thousand people live there; most of them farmers and the families of farmers. They’re good people — caring, hardworking and mostly honest. They eat at the local diner, buy their cars from the local dealer, and get their groceries at the family-owned grocery store next to the post office. It’s not a metropolis, but there’s a dry cleaners, a post office, a small newspaper and a motel.
And, as far as Oklahoma small towns go, it’s a pretty good place to live.
But on that particular year, during that particular December, an event occurred in this small town that some residents still only whisper about. Some don’t believe it happened; other swear they got the truth from “a friend of a cousin’s uncle” or some other loose, non-traceable connection.
There are a few people in town — the ones who go to church regularly — who were actually there when the event occurred, but those folks are tight-lipped and don't say anything.
So — just as most weird stories go — the truth of the tale is left for you to decide.
Bethany Moses was tired. She and her kids, Cameron and Casey, had spent the whole day packing. Cameron had the sniffles and Casey didn’t seem too hungry, but there was no other way. Everything was loaded into the truck and they set out. The Ford only had a half-tank of gas and one tire was bad — but like the other items in Bethany’s life, it was all she had.
She hated driving on Christmas Eve; it didn’t seem fair. This year she’d promised the kids they’d have a tree with lights and even presents. But this year, she’d used the last of the present money on two quarts of oil and a half-tank of gas.
Bethany looked at her belly. She was eight months along and the baby didn’t spend much time sleeping. This one twisted and turned and danced; it made it difficult to work full time. Plus, the nausea — which she’d had since day one — didn’t help.
She hit the exit just as the Ford started playing its version of the Anvil Chorus. The motor bucked, rocked back and forth, sputtered for a second or two and then, finally, died right there in the drive of Bill’s Quick-as-a-Flash Phillips 66.
Bethany covered her face with her hands — she didn’t want the kids to see her cry.
“God, I can’t go any farther,” she prayed. “I’m at the end. This is it. I can’t, and I won’t, go back. The three of us are in your hands.” Bethany delivered this tearful benediction under the buzzing neon of Bill’s sign.
Slowly, she turned and looked in the back seat. There, in the truck’s jump seats — wedged in between barstools, pillows, old blankets, and two half-torn cardboard boxes were Casey and Cameron.
“Sorry kids,” she said. “I was hoping this year would be better.”
The knock on the window interrupted her.
She didn’t hear it the first time, but she jumped when the stranger knocked the second time. Fearful to open the door, Bethany rolled down the window just an inch or so.
The voice was gruff, but friendly. “Hey, there missy. Ya need some gas?”
Bethany didn't notice the pumps were still on and there was a light shining from inside the Quick-as-a-Flash. She shook her head. “No. I’m okay. But my truck sounds real funny. I think something’s wrong with the motor.”
“Start ‘er up,” the voice said. “Lemme’ hear it.”
Bethany turned the key; the old Ford groaned and clanked, and belched and ran for a few seconds then shuddered for a second time and died.
“Sounds like a bad piston,” the voice said. “Might take a while to fix.”
Bethany continued crying.
“We were trying to make it to Thackerville,” she said in between sobs. “I ... I just don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” the voice said — now not near as gruff. “I’ll bet we can get you taken care of.”
Bethany rolled down the window another inch. “But you don’t understand. I don’t have any money. Maybe ... well, could I just use your phone?”
The man behind the voice shook his head. “Phone’s busted,” he lied. “But I’ll tell you what. You wait right here, I’ll be right back.”
The stranger disappeared and Bethany pulled her coat tight around her.
“Okay, I got ya’ a taxi,” the stranger said. “It’ll be here in a few minutes. Don’t worry about your truck or your stuff. It’ll be safe in the garage.”
The stranger told Bethany to shift the truck into neutral. Together — he pushed and she steered — they walked the truck into the garage.
“Get your stuff and your kids. Your ride will be her in few minutes.”
Bethany tried one more time. “But I told you I don’t have any money. I’m broke.” She waved her arm toward the back of the truck. “Unless you want to buy some slightly used household items.”
The stranger chuckled. “Don’t worry ma’am, we’ll just put it on your bill. Your credit’s good. We can settle up later.”
Bethany wasn’t sure what to do. She looked at the stranger — she could see him better in the amber yellow light of the garage — and hoped this wasn’t a trick. He was tall, unshaven, with red coveralls, workboots and a ballcap on backwards. He looked like he worked hard for a living. His large, muscular hands were calloused and slightly dirty. But she was scared; being eight months pregnant, stranded, with no cash and two toddlers, she was a disaster waiting to happen.
“See-I-really-don’t-even-know-who-you-are-and-well-I...”
“Name’s Bill ... ” the stranger said. He stuck out a hand. “You remind me of my wife. She was real pretty, too. Especially when she was carrying our oldest boy, Tate. You talk fast like she did when she’d get excited.”
Bill laughed again. “Makes me think of good times. For that, I’m obliged.”
Bethany began to calm down. Slowly, she began to realize that Bill meant her no harm. He patted her hand. “Like I said, we’ll settle up later. But right now, you need to get them little ones out of the cold. Here’s your ride. Show me what you want to put in the taxi.”
Bethany moved Casey and Cameron to the taxi. Bill helped her move blankets, pillows and clothes.
Thirty minutes later, Bethany and her two kids arrived at the East Sixth Motel and Truck Stop. The driver — a young man with a dark complexion whose name Bethany couldn’t pronounce — shook his head when Bethany offered him her watch as payment for the ride. “Bill took care of it,” he said in broken English.
The driver waited while Bethany went to the East Sixth’s office.
“We’ve been expecting you, hon’,” Flora, the manager said. “Got your room all ready. Number 6.” Flora handed her a key on a large, blue plastic holder. “I put extra blankets on the bed and the heat’s on, so it should be good and warm. You go get ya’ a good night’s sleep.”
Again, Bethany tried to offer something in exchange for the room. “Bill took care of it,” Flora said. “Such a nice man.”
She tucked Casey and Cameron in first. They snuggled in under the thick warm blankets and were quickly asleep. Bethany smiled. Knowing her children were warm and safe had somehow lessened the cold and stilled her panic. But she had no idea how she was going to pay for room or the repairs.
Rubbing her full, round belly, Bethany wrapped herself in soft blanked and settled down in the chair. The room’s television wasn’t that big, but it did work. She clicked the remote until she found a channel with a movie. Something for the holidays, she thought.
The phone rang.
A thousand thoughts raced through her head but none of them made any sense. Who would call her? Who knew she was here.? Maybe it was a wrong number. Maybe ...
“Hello?” The fear in Bethany’s voice betrayed her.
“Hi, hon’,” the cheery voice on the other end said. “It’s Flora, from the office.”
“Yes?”
“Well, Chris, the kid who delivers pizza for Big Tony’s Pizza Palace, is here and he’s got an extra large Pepperoni with thick crust and two large Diet Cokes which will just get thrown away if no one eats them. You want ‘em?”
Bethany’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t east since yesterday. She’d used the last change she could scrounge to buy the kids a burger. Pizza sounded divine.
“You still there?” Flo asked. “Don’t worry. Chris says he’s just gonna throw them away if no one wants ‘em. I thought of you. You looked a little hungry.”
In the warmth of her room, Bethany smiled. “That would be wonderful,” she said. “I love pizza.”
“Great,” Flora said. “I’ll send him down.” Through the phone, Bethany could hear Flora telling Chris where to deliver the pizza. “One more thing,” she said. “In the morning you and kids come down about nine and we’ll have breakfast.”
Flora couldn’t see Bethany cock her head. “But I didn’t think motels serve breakfast,” Bethan said.
“We don’t” Flora answered. “But I have to work Christmas Day and I just hate having breakfast by myself. So in the morning you and the little ones come down to the office and we’ll have come coffee, scrambled eggs and bacon. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Bethany felt the tears pool in the corner of her eyes. “We’ll be there,’’ she said quietly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Oh hon, it’s no problem. Just come at nine and bring your appetite.”
Her belly full of pizza, Bethany readied herself for bed. She was still amazed by how kind Bill and Flora and even Chris the pizza guy had been. They didn’t realize it, but they probably saved our lives, she thought.
She prayed quietly, thanking God for the small town and its wonderful people.
But she was still worried. Casey felt much warmer now and Cameron’s cough sounded worse. Maybe she could find some aspirin.
The knock on the door woke her.
At first, she was sure it was a dream, but when she heard the knock for the second time, she knew she was awake. Pushing herself up, Bethany moved slowly toward the door and opened it the length of the chain lock.
A tall man with a trimmed beard stood on the other side. “Hi, are you Bethany?” the man asked. “I’m Doctor Markson.”
Bethany pulled the blanket tighter around her. “What do you want?”
“Bill sent me,” the doctor said. “I think he was quite taken with you. Said your truck broke down and you would be here. Got me out of bed and made me come to make sure you and the kids were all right.”
Bethany closed her eyes and smiled. She slid the chain of the lock and opened the door.
“Hi,” The doctor extended a gloved hand. “I’m Frank.”
“Bethany.”
“Bill told me you were pregnant.” He eye Bethany’s large belly. “But he didn’t say how pregnant.”
Bethany looked down. Gently she rubbed her hands in a circle. “I’m due next month. If I can hold out that long.”
The doctor laughed. “Well, you look good. Are you feeling okay? Any problems?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “But I’m worried about my twins. She pointed toward the bed. “One has a fever and the other has a bad cough.”
Doctor Markson reached for his bag. “Do you mind if I take a look?”
Bethany nodded. “That would be wonderful,” she said. “Thank you.”
Kneeling, the doctor pulled back the covers and gently examined Bethany’s children. Temperatures were checked, breathing monitored and little heartbeats counted. After several minutes, the doctor turned and sat on the bed.
“They’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s a bad cold, with cough and it could get worse. But we caught it in plenty of time. So I wouldn’t worry.”
He reached inside his bag and handed Bethany two small bottles. “This one,” he said, “is for the fever. The other will help the cough. Make sure they get plenty of rest, some good warm food and mother the daylights out of ‘em.”
Bethany laughed. “I do that real well,” she said. “Real well.”
“And what about this one,” the doctor asked. “When was your last visit?”
“Two weeks ago,” she said. “I stopped going after my boyfriend slapped me around and kicked me out. I didn’t have any money.”
The doctor placed his strong hands on Bethany’s belly. “This one’s active,” he said. “Very busy.”
“It’s a ‘he’,” Bethany said. “And I don’t think he ever sleeps.”
The doctor left about an hour later. She and her baby were fine, he told her. “You just need to rest.” And so, precisely at 11 p.m., Bethany slipped in between her two sleeping children and burrowed her way underneath the warm blankets covering the soft bed.
By the time the clock said 11:05, she was sleeping peacefully.
Breakfast with Flora was loud. The kids, having rested, were happy and very hungry. Flora served mountains of scrambled eggs and bacon. Casey and Cameron ate their fill.
“Well, you look like you slept good,” she said. “Much better.”
“I slept wonderfully,” Bethany said. “I believe it’s the first time in days I’ve been warm.”
“Then, Merry Christmas,” Flora said. “I’m sure glad I’ve got some noise in this ol place. It’s awfully lonely on Christmas Day.”
After breakfast was over, Bethany and the twins returned to their room. A short time after that, Flora called. “You’re truck’s here, hon,” she said. “It looks ready to roll.”
Bethany and the twins walked to the office. “I didn’t think it would be done for a while,” she said. “And it’s even been washed.”
Flora opened the door. “Well start it up, see if they fixed it.”
Bethany turned the key. The Ford rumbled and purred smoothly. “It sounds great. Bill must have worked all night.”
Flora smiled. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” she asked. “You’re welcomed to.”
“I ... I need to get to Thackerville. My mom's there.” she said. “If the gas holds out.”
“Oh, you’ll make it,” Flora pointed to the gas gage — it rested on full. “I’m sure of that.”
Just south, outside of this small town stands a small convenience store. The Pack and Pay, and it’s owner Jerry, have been a fixture here for years. Jerry’s a decent guy; ohh, once in a while he drinks a little beer, but he fixes kids’ bikes for free, and on more than one occasion, he’s given a family down on their luck enough food and gas to see them through.
The Pack and Pay is always busy. But Jerry always has time to talk. And that’s what he was doing when Bethany pulled her Ford onto the drive.
She was on her way to Thackerville; then she remembered. “Excuse me. Do you have a telephone I can use?”
Jerry pointed to a small red phone by the cash register. “Try that one there, ma’am. Phone book’s under the shelf.”
Bethany found the tattered phone book and began turning pages. She did this for several minutes.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but is this the only phone book you have?”
Jerry nodded. “Yes ma’am. You lookin’ for someone around here?”
Bethany closed the book. “Yes. His name is Bill. I don’t know his last name. But he owns the Quick-as-a-Flash Phillips 66.”
Jerry frowned and leaned toward against the cash register. “Are you sure that’s who you’re looking for?”
“I’m sure,” Bethany said. “He told me his name was Bill. My truck broke down there last night. He called a taxi for me, so I don't know how to get to his station, and I forgot to call him from the motel and find out how much I owed him.”
Jerry scratched his head. “You stayed at the East Sixth?” he asked. “The East Sixth?”
“Yeah,” Bethany said. “Me and my kids. Bill sent us there, then this nice woman named Flora took us in. She had the room ready and Chris, the delivery boy with Big Tony’s Pizza Palace brought us a large pizza and then Doctor Markson came and checked on the kids. Why, all those people, they were so kind and so wonderful. They saved my life.”
Now most folks in town know that it’s pretty hard to rattle Jerry. He did two tours in Vietnam and worked as a beat cop in Detroit, so it takes a lot to get his attention.
Until that day.
He listened to Bethany talk for about ten minutes then he walked back to the cooler and grabbed two Budweisers and a Coke. “Come with me." He pushed the can to Bethany. “ You drink the Coke. Pregnant girls don’t need beer.”
Bethany sipped the Coke, opened the phone book and began turning pages again.
“You won’t find Bill in there,” Jerry motioned toward the window. “Trust me.”
“Why?” Bethany asked. “Isn’t there a way to call him. Does he have a cell phone?”
Jerry shook his head. “No ma’am. Nobody can call Bill, cause Bill’s dead.”
“Wha ... what? Dead?" Suddenly, Bethany felt cold. "That can’t be. I just talked to him last night. Did it happen this morning?”
Jerry looked down at his feet. “No ma’am, Bill’s been dead for close to ten years now.”
“But I don’t understand. Flora and Doctor Markson and, Chris, and even the taxi driver, were all talking about him last night. I talked to him myself. He pushed my truck into his garage.”
Jerry touched Bethany’s arm. “Honey, Doctor Markson and Chris died in the same car wreck as Bill. Cancer got Flora back in ‘87.”
Bethany’s eyes filled with tears. She felt dizzy, like she was in a bad dream. “I ... I...”
“Here, why don’t you sit down,” Jerry said. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“But ... if they’re all dead, then who fixed my truck and who brought me pizza and checked my kids?” She rummaged through the purse until she found the two small prescription bottles. “See. See these were given to me last night. Look at the name.”
Jerry eyed the small bottles and handed them back. “You’re right,” he said. “That’s what it says. But I’d be happy to take you to the cemetery and show you all their graves. I ain’t trying to make you upset and if there’s something you need, I’m sure happy to help. But I promise you, with God as my witness, all them folks you say helped you last night have been gone a long, long time.”
Bethany took Jerry up on his offer. Together, she, Jerry, and the kids drove to the cemetery. For more than an hour, she stood reverently Bill’s grave, the tears cascading down her face. Then, holding her twin's hands, she walked back to her truck and drove back into town.
Some folks in town say the story is truth.
Others say it’s just a legend.
And a bunch of folks say its part truth and part legend. But the fact remains that at one time Bill, Flora, Chris, and Doctor Markson did live in the town — and they are buried there. It’s also true that Bethany drove a battered ol Ford into town with her two kids. And, it’s true she was pregnant and very down on her luck.
But that's all the folks will say.
It's the legend that's more talkative.
According to the legend, after she left the Pack and Pay that Christmas Day, Bethany drove back right back town and stopped at a church. There, under the slightly crooked steeple, Bethany knelt in the dry leaves and looked at the sky.
Because Bethany Moses doesn’t believe in ghosts. But she most certainly believes in God.
So — just as most weird stories go — the truth of the tale is left for you to decide.
•
Bethany Moses was tired. She and her kids, Cameron and Casey, had spent the whole day packing. Cameron had the sniffles and Casey didn’t seem too hungry, but there was no other way. Everything was loaded into the truck and they set out. The Ford only had a half-tank of gas and one tire was bad — but like the other items in Bethany’s life, it was all she had.
She hated driving on Christmas Eve; it didn’t seem fair. This year she’d promised the kids they’d have a tree with lights and even presents. But this year, she’d used the last of the present money on two quarts of oil and a half-tank of gas.
Bethany looked at her belly. She was eight months along and the baby didn’t spend much time sleeping. This one twisted and turned and danced; it made it difficult to work full time. Plus, the nausea — which she’d had since day one — didn’t help.
•
She hit the exit just as the Ford started playing its version of the Anvil Chorus. The motor bucked, rocked back and forth, sputtered for a second or two and then, finally, died right there in the drive of Bill’s Quick-as-a-Flash Phillips 66.
Bethany covered her face with her hands — she didn’t want the kids to see her cry.
“God, I can’t go any farther,” she prayed. “I’m at the end. This is it. I can’t, and I won’t, go back. The three of us are in your hands.” Bethany delivered this tearful benediction under the buzzing neon of Bill’s sign.
Slowly, she turned and looked in the back seat. There, in the truck’s jump seats — wedged in between barstools, pillows, old blankets, and two half-torn cardboard boxes were Casey and Cameron.
“Sorry kids,” she said. “I was hoping this year would be better.”
•
The knock on the window interrupted her.
She didn’t hear it the first time, but she jumped when the stranger knocked the second time. Fearful to open the door, Bethany rolled down the window just an inch or so.
The voice was gruff, but friendly. “Hey, there missy. Ya need some gas?”
Bethany didn't notice the pumps were still on and there was a light shining from inside the Quick-as-a-Flash. She shook her head. “No. I’m okay. But my truck sounds real funny. I think something’s wrong with the motor.”
“Start ‘er up,” the voice said. “Lemme’ hear it.”
Bethany turned the key; the old Ford groaned and clanked, and belched and ran for a few seconds then shuddered for a second time and died.
“Sounds like a bad piston,” the voice said. “Might take a while to fix.”
Bethany continued crying.
“We were trying to make it to Thackerville,” she said in between sobs. “I ... I just don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” the voice said — now not near as gruff. “I’ll bet we can get you taken care of.”
Bethany rolled down the window another inch. “But you don’t understand. I don’t have any money. Maybe ... well, could I just use your phone?”
The man behind the voice shook his head. “Phone’s busted,” he lied. “But I’ll tell you what. You wait right here, I’ll be right back.”
The stranger disappeared and Bethany pulled her coat tight around her.
•
“Okay, I got ya’ a taxi,” the stranger said. “It’ll be here in a few minutes. Don’t worry about your truck or your stuff. It’ll be safe in the garage.”
The stranger told Bethany to shift the truck into neutral. Together — he pushed and she steered — they walked the truck into the garage.
“Get your stuff and your kids. Your ride will be her in few minutes.”
Bethany tried one more time. “But I told you I don’t have any money. I’m broke.” She waved her arm toward the back of the truck. “Unless you want to buy some slightly used household items.”
The stranger chuckled. “Don’t worry ma’am, we’ll just put it on your bill. Your credit’s good. We can settle up later.”
Bethany wasn’t sure what to do. She looked at the stranger — she could see him better in the amber yellow light of the garage — and hoped this wasn’t a trick. He was tall, unshaven, with red coveralls, workboots and a ballcap on backwards. He looked like he worked hard for a living. His large, muscular hands were calloused and slightly dirty. But she was scared; being eight months pregnant, stranded, with no cash and two toddlers, she was a disaster waiting to happen.
“See-I-really-don’t-even-know-who-you-are-and-well-I...”
“Name’s Bill ... ” the stranger said. He stuck out a hand. “You remind me of my wife. She was real pretty, too. Especially when she was carrying our oldest boy, Tate. You talk fast like she did when she’d get excited.”
Bill laughed again. “Makes me think of good times. For that, I’m obliged.”
Bethany began to calm down. Slowly, she began to realize that Bill meant her no harm. He patted her hand. “Like I said, we’ll settle up later. But right now, you need to get them little ones out of the cold. Here’s your ride. Show me what you want to put in the taxi.”
Bethany moved Casey and Cameron to the taxi. Bill helped her move blankets, pillows and clothes.
•
Thirty minutes later, Bethany and her two kids arrived at the East Sixth Motel and Truck Stop. The driver — a young man with a dark complexion whose name Bethany couldn’t pronounce — shook his head when Bethany offered him her watch as payment for the ride. “Bill took care of it,” he said in broken English.
The driver waited while Bethany went to the East Sixth’s office.
“We’ve been expecting you, hon’,” Flora, the manager said. “Got your room all ready. Number 6.” Flora handed her a key on a large, blue plastic holder. “I put extra blankets on the bed and the heat’s on, so it should be good and warm. You go get ya’ a good night’s sleep.”
Again, Bethany tried to offer something in exchange for the room. “Bill took care of it,” Flora said. “Such a nice man.”
•
She tucked Casey and Cameron in first. They snuggled in under the thick warm blankets and were quickly asleep. Bethany smiled. Knowing her children were warm and safe had somehow lessened the cold and stilled her panic. But she had no idea how she was going to pay for room or the repairs.
Rubbing her full, round belly, Bethany wrapped herself in soft blanked and settled down in the chair. The room’s television wasn’t that big, but it did work. She clicked the remote until she found a channel with a movie. Something for the holidays, she thought.
The phone rang.
A thousand thoughts raced through her head but none of them made any sense. Who would call her? Who knew she was here.? Maybe it was a wrong number. Maybe ...
“Hello?” The fear in Bethany’s voice betrayed her.
“Hi, hon’,” the cheery voice on the other end said. “It’s Flora, from the office.”
“Yes?”
“Well, Chris, the kid who delivers pizza for Big Tony’s Pizza Palace, is here and he’s got an extra large Pepperoni with thick crust and two large Diet Cokes which will just get thrown away if no one eats them. You want ‘em?”
Bethany’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t east since yesterday. She’d used the last change she could scrounge to buy the kids a burger. Pizza sounded divine.
“You still there?” Flo asked. “Don’t worry. Chris says he’s just gonna throw them away if no one wants ‘em. I thought of you. You looked a little hungry.”
In the warmth of her room, Bethany smiled. “That would be wonderful,” she said. “I love pizza.”
“Great,” Flora said. “I’ll send him down.” Through the phone, Bethany could hear Flora telling Chris where to deliver the pizza. “One more thing,” she said. “In the morning you and kids come down about nine and we’ll have breakfast.”
Flora couldn’t see Bethany cock her head. “But I didn’t think motels serve breakfast,” Bethan said.
“We don’t” Flora answered. “But I have to work Christmas Day and I just hate having breakfast by myself. So in the morning you and the little ones come down to the office and we’ll have come coffee, scrambled eggs and bacon. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Bethany felt the tears pool in the corner of her eyes. “We’ll be there,’’ she said quietly. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Oh hon, it’s no problem. Just come at nine and bring your appetite.”
•
Her belly full of pizza, Bethany readied herself for bed. She was still amazed by how kind Bill and Flora and even Chris the pizza guy had been. They didn’t realize it, but they probably saved our lives, she thought.
She prayed quietly, thanking God for the small town and its wonderful people.
But she was still worried. Casey felt much warmer now and Cameron’s cough sounded worse. Maybe she could find some aspirin.
The knock on the door woke her.
At first, she was sure it was a dream, but when she heard the knock for the second time, she knew she was awake. Pushing herself up, Bethany moved slowly toward the door and opened it the length of the chain lock.
A tall man with a trimmed beard stood on the other side. “Hi, are you Bethany?” the man asked. “I’m Doctor Markson.”
Bethany pulled the blanket tighter around her. “What do you want?”
“Bill sent me,” the doctor said. “I think he was quite taken with you. Said your truck broke down and you would be here. Got me out of bed and made me come to make sure you and the kids were all right.”
Bethany closed her eyes and smiled. She slid the chain of the lock and opened the door.
“Hi,” The doctor extended a gloved hand. “I’m Frank.”
“Bethany.”
“Bill told me you were pregnant.” He eye Bethany’s large belly. “But he didn’t say how pregnant.”
Bethany looked down. Gently she rubbed her hands in a circle. “I’m due next month. If I can hold out that long.”
The doctor laughed. “Well, you look good. Are you feeling okay? Any problems?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “But I’m worried about my twins. She pointed toward the bed. “One has a fever and the other has a bad cough.”
Doctor Markson reached for his bag. “Do you mind if I take a look?”
Bethany nodded. “That would be wonderful,” she said. “Thank you.”
Kneeling, the doctor pulled back the covers and gently examined Bethany’s children. Temperatures were checked, breathing monitored and little heartbeats counted. After several minutes, the doctor turned and sat on the bed.
“They’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s a bad cold, with cough and it could get worse. But we caught it in plenty of time. So I wouldn’t worry.”
He reached inside his bag and handed Bethany two small bottles. “This one,” he said, “is for the fever. The other will help the cough. Make sure they get plenty of rest, some good warm food and mother the daylights out of ‘em.”
Bethany laughed. “I do that real well,” she said. “Real well.”
“And what about this one,” the doctor asked. “When was your last visit?”
“Two weeks ago,” she said. “I stopped going after my boyfriend slapped me around and kicked me out. I didn’t have any money.”
The doctor placed his strong hands on Bethany’s belly. “This one’s active,” he said. “Very busy.”
“It’s a ‘he’,” Bethany said. “And I don’t think he ever sleeps.”
•
The doctor left about an hour later. She and her baby were fine, he told her. “You just need to rest.” And so, precisely at 11 p.m., Bethany slipped in between her two sleeping children and burrowed her way underneath the warm blankets covering the soft bed.
By the time the clock said 11:05, she was sleeping peacefully.
•
Breakfast with Flora was loud. The kids, having rested, were happy and very hungry. Flora served mountains of scrambled eggs and bacon. Casey and Cameron ate their fill.
“Well, you look like you slept good,” she said. “Much better.”
“I slept wonderfully,” Bethany said. “I believe it’s the first time in days I’ve been warm.”
“Then, Merry Christmas,” Flora said. “I’m sure glad I’ve got some noise in this ol place. It’s awfully lonely on Christmas Day.”
After breakfast was over, Bethany and the twins returned to their room. A short time after that, Flora called. “You’re truck’s here, hon,” she said. “It looks ready to roll.”
Bethany and the twins walked to the office. “I didn’t think it would be done for a while,” she said. “And it’s even been washed.”
Flora opened the door. “Well start it up, see if they fixed it.”
Bethany turned the key. The Ford rumbled and purred smoothly. “It sounds great. Bill must have worked all night.”
Flora smiled. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” she asked. “You’re welcomed to.”
“I ... I need to get to Thackerville. My mom's there.” she said. “If the gas holds out.”
“Oh, you’ll make it,” Flora pointed to the gas gage — it rested on full. “I’m sure of that.”
•
Just south, outside of this small town stands a small convenience store. The Pack and Pay, and it’s owner Jerry, have been a fixture here for years. Jerry’s a decent guy; ohh, once in a while he drinks a little beer, but he fixes kids’ bikes for free, and on more than one occasion, he’s given a family down on their luck enough food and gas to see them through.
The Pack and Pay is always busy. But Jerry always has time to talk. And that’s what he was doing when Bethany pulled her Ford onto the drive.
She was on her way to Thackerville; then she remembered. “Excuse me. Do you have a telephone I can use?”
Jerry pointed to a small red phone by the cash register. “Try that one there, ma’am. Phone book’s under the shelf.”
Bethany found the tattered phone book and began turning pages. She did this for several minutes.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but is this the only phone book you have?”
Jerry nodded. “Yes ma’am. You lookin’ for someone around here?”
Bethany closed the book. “Yes. His name is Bill. I don’t know his last name. But he owns the Quick-as-a-Flash Phillips 66.”
Jerry frowned and leaned toward against the cash register. “Are you sure that’s who you’re looking for?”
“I’m sure,” Bethany said. “He told me his name was Bill. My truck broke down there last night. He called a taxi for me, so I don't know how to get to his station, and I forgot to call him from the motel and find out how much I owed him.”
Jerry scratched his head. “You stayed at the East Sixth?” he asked. “The East Sixth?”
“Yeah,” Bethany said. “Me and my kids. Bill sent us there, then this nice woman named Flora took us in. She had the room ready and Chris, the delivery boy with Big Tony’s Pizza Palace brought us a large pizza and then Doctor Markson came and checked on the kids. Why, all those people, they were so kind and so wonderful. They saved my life.”
•
Now most folks in town know that it’s pretty hard to rattle Jerry. He did two tours in Vietnam and worked as a beat cop in Detroit, so it takes a lot to get his attention.
Until that day.
He listened to Bethany talk for about ten minutes then he walked back to the cooler and grabbed two Budweisers and a Coke. “Come with me." He pushed the can to Bethany. “ You drink the Coke. Pregnant girls don’t need beer.”
Bethany sipped the Coke, opened the phone book and began turning pages again.
“You won’t find Bill in there,” Jerry motioned toward the window. “Trust me.”
“Why?” Bethany asked. “Isn’t there a way to call him. Does he have a cell phone?”
Jerry shook his head. “No ma’am. Nobody can call Bill, cause Bill’s dead.”
“Wha ... what? Dead?" Suddenly, Bethany felt cold. "That can’t be. I just talked to him last night. Did it happen this morning?”
Jerry looked down at his feet. “No ma’am, Bill’s been dead for close to ten years now.”
“But I don’t understand. Flora and Doctor Markson and, Chris, and even the taxi driver, were all talking about him last night. I talked to him myself. He pushed my truck into his garage.”
Jerry touched Bethany’s arm. “Honey, Doctor Markson and Chris died in the same car wreck as Bill. Cancer got Flora back in ‘87.”
Bethany’s eyes filled with tears. She felt dizzy, like she was in a bad dream. “I ... I...”
“Here, why don’t you sit down,” Jerry said. “It’s gonna be okay.”
“But ... if they’re all dead, then who fixed my truck and who brought me pizza and checked my kids?” She rummaged through the purse until she found the two small prescription bottles. “See. See these were given to me last night. Look at the name.”
Jerry eyed the small bottles and handed them back. “You’re right,” he said. “That’s what it says. But I’d be happy to take you to the cemetery and show you all their graves. I ain’t trying to make you upset and if there’s something you need, I’m sure happy to help. But I promise you, with God as my witness, all them folks you say helped you last night have been gone a long, long time.”
•
Bethany took Jerry up on his offer. Together, she, Jerry, and the kids drove to the cemetery. For more than an hour, she stood reverently Bill’s grave, the tears cascading down her face. Then, holding her twin's hands, she walked back to her truck and drove back into town.
•
Some folks in town say the story is truth.
Others say it’s just a legend.
And a bunch of folks say its part truth and part legend. But the fact remains that at one time Bill, Flora, Chris, and Doctor Markson did live in the town — and they are buried there. It’s also true that Bethany drove a battered ol Ford into town with her two kids. And, it’s true she was pregnant and very down on her luck.
But that's all the folks will say.
It's the legend that's more talkative.
According to the legend, after she left the Pack and Pay that Christmas Day, Bethany drove back right back town and stopped at a church. There, under the slightly crooked steeple, Bethany knelt in the dry leaves and looked at the sky.
"Thank you, Lord," she said. "Thank your for saving me. And for sending friends to help. I...I and the babies wouldn't have made it without you."
After a while, Bethany dried her tears and then bought a newspaper. She went through the want ads applied for the first job she saw. She got that job. Then she, the twins, and the baby who hadn’t been born yet, all found a small, cozy house and started their lives over.
Of course, if you ask folks in town, they will tell you they don’t know Bethany. They’ll say they’ve never heard of her.
Still, if you spend any time there — or if you attend church at the little white church with the big sign and the crooked steeple — you will, eventually, you’ll see a pretty, blue-eyed woman with three children driving an old Ford pick-up. And, if you're driving through that particular town on Christmas Eve, slow down at the Quick-as-a-Flash Phillips 66. It's true, the place has been closed for year.
Of course, if you ask folks in town, they will tell you they don’t know Bethany. They’ll say they’ve never heard of her.
Still, if you spend any time there — or if you attend church at the little white church with the big sign and the crooked steeple — you will, eventually, you’ll see a pretty, blue-eyed woman with three children driving an old Ford pick-up. And, if you're driving through that particular town on Christmas Eve, slow down at the Quick-as-a-Flash Phillips 66. It's true, the place has been closed for year.
But on Christmas Eve, if you look close, you'll see a single light burning.
Don't ask the pretty, blue-eyed woman with the three children about this story. And don't say anything about seeing a light on at the service station — she won't say anything. She'll just smile and hurry on her way.
Because Bethany Moses doesn’t believe in ghosts. But she most certainly believes in God.
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