Lazybones

". . . and when they got home, they found a rusty hook stuck in the side of the car door!" Thomas Williams finished his story with a flourish, waving his flashlight in erratic circles over his head.

The other ten scouts huddled around the crackling campfire grumbled and complained with mock distain.

"I've heard that one a million times, Thomas."

"Yeah, we need a new scary story, not an old one that wouldn't scare my old granny."

Thomas looked around for support among the group of ten year old boys, but found none. "But, my brother told me that he knew the guy it happened to!"

"Yeah, mine too. It's just not scary, Thomas."

An older, louder voice said, "All right, all right. Just settle down." It was a kind, understanding voice. "It was a fine story."

Dressed in an adult version of the kids' blue uniforms, Mr. Baxter edged into the circle around the fire. Tall and lean, he moved slowly through the dense mat of fallen autumn leaves to find a seat on a moss eaten log next to Thomas. The flickering firelight reflected off his coke bottle glasses, and he broke into a broad, open grin.

"Whatever you boys say, I think it was a pretty scary story." Mr. Baxter patted Thomas on the shoulder.

From the other side of the fire, another boy called, "You tell us a story, Mr. Baxter."

"Okay, but a short one. We've got a lot to do tomorrow with the hiking and the fishing. You've all got to get some sleep."

"Hey, Mr. Baxter. You want the last couple s'mores?" a slightly plump boy asked.

"Nah, I'll get a snack later, Willie." Mr. Baxter's smile faded into a stern expression. "Now, I'm going to tell you an old story, 'bout a hundred years old. It happened right in these woods to some boys just like you . . . "

~~~OOO~~~

On a clear fall day, five boys went exploring in the woods. It was cool, the first real chill of the year, but they were excited to be out and went deep into the forest. They played in the leaves, climbed trees, and almost managed to catch a sleepy rabbit. They soon lost track of the time and became lost in the woods.

They wandered and searched, but all the trees began to look the same, and night was nearing. They started to hear the sounds of animals in the forest, and one swore he heard a wolf's howl. Fear set in, and some of them started to cry.

The boys might have been lost forever if an old woodsman hadn't happened by. He took them back to his cabin. They were hungry, and he fed them deer and wild boar and old potatoes, but they loved every bite.

Full and tired from running through the woods, the boys soon became sleepy. The old woodsman offered to let them sleep in his cabin for the night, and to help them find their way home in the morning.

After the others were asleep, one of the boys asked, "What's your name, sir?"

The man patted the boy's head and said, "Some folks call me Lazybones."

"Why?" asked the yawning boy.

"Because I once slept for ninety years."

"You must have been hungry when you woke up," the boy mumbled as he faded into sleep.

"I certainly am."

Lazybones grinned wide and opened a mouth with too many teeth. He ate each boy whole, not leaving so much as a drop of blood or a stray bone. When the town came looking for the lost boys, they found no sign of them or Lazybones.

~~~OOO~~~

Mr. Baxter finished his story and moved his gaze slowly from boy to boy around the fire. "Those boys would have been about your . . ."

Almost in unison, the scouts broke out laughing and giggling. A couple fell over and rolled on the ground.

"Mr. Baxter, that was the worse one yet," Thomas said between chuckles and snorts.

"Yeah, a real dud," another boy yelled.

Mr. Baxter smiled again and shook his head in exasperation. "Sorry, boys. Guess I'm just not that scary."

"Now, it's time to hit the tents."

~~~OOO~~~

At midnight, Mr. Baxter stood naked before the campfire as it spit and popped its dying breaths. The cool fall breeze brushed against his skin, raising goose bumps and the hairs on his arms. He could smell the lingering, clean scent of the few lonely evergreens among the multitude of leafless oaks and maples.

He knew this forest. He'd known it for hundreds of years. It was his forest.

Staring at the harvest moon overhead, he grinned. His mouth opened and stretched, popping as his jaw dislocated and extended. Three rows of glittering, white fangs rose from his lower jaw, and his pink tongue grew long and slimy, whipping back and forth in the night air as if tasting the breeze. He lowered his head, and black, bulbous eyes glittered in the night.

Bringing long and sharp finger to his face, he felt his legs lengthen and his knees invert with an audible snap. Toes turned to talons dug into the cool moist ground.

The thing that had been Mr. Baxter would have smiled if his gaping mouth allowed. After long decades of slumber and patient waiting, Lazybones was hungry indeed. Atris Ray III