 
The Dead Forest

Tom Raimbault

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © Tom Raimbault 2016

License Notes:

Copyright © Tom Raimbault 2016

All rights reserved! No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form or by any means, without permission from the author!

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Disclaimer:

This work is 100% fiction. All scenes and events within these pages have been an invention of the author's imagination, and to his knowledge never occurred in reality. Any resemblance to the reader's own experiences is purely coincidental. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

The Dead Forest

People call it the "dead forest". Literally nothing more than a forest of towering, dead trees; really the forest preserve district should burn it all down. It's a section of some several hundred or more acres that can be accessed by an adjacent forest preserve that is separated by a shipping canal. Well, actually if you visit the adjacent forest preserve, you would need to cross the parking lot and connect to the sidewalk which runs along the highway bridge that extends across the shipping canal. If lucky, you might see a barge plowing through the water. And when finally reaching the other side, one accesses an obsolete forest preserve that has been taken out of commission for some years. The parking lot always has the "Closed" sign cable stretched across to prevent motorists from entering. Weeds grow through the cracked asphalt parking lot. And if brave enough to continue, one immediately finds him or herself in a place that locals call "the dead forest".

It wasn't always called this. If you look at the old, warped sign you can see that it reads Berry Bush Forest Preserve. There actually are raspberry bushes that grow throughout this now untamed forest preserve. That's how it got its name.

"But what about the trees?"—you might ask? "How did they all die?"

It was a fungus attack that took a little over two years to completely destroy all the trees in the forest. It spread like wildfire, and rotted the outside bark of all the poor trees. As for the fungus; apparently it was unable to spread itself across the wide shipping canal which protected the adjacent forest preserve. But as for the "dead forest", all that remains are towering skeletal trunks with large offshoot branches. It's an eerie place to visit in late autumn and throughout winter.

Now I'm going to contradict what I said above and add that summertime proves the "dead forest" to be anything but dead. Visitors who sneak past the "Closed" sign and hike the forest marvel at how the trees never actually died. What do I mean? Well, you see, like most trees in nature; many of the trees in the "dead forest" exhibit a drive to continue living and surviving to be beautiful, towering trees with lush, green leaves. Small offshoot branches began to grow out from what little life the trees had. These branches actually turned into long vines which extended hundreds of feet and wrapped all the way around the trees. The surrounding vegetation on the ground took advantage of the nearby trees and grew long vines upwards. The end result; the trees looks healthy and green with long, vine-like branches and leaves that rustle in the wind. And all the trees throughout the "dead forest" do this. It's a green forest of gnarly, old trees that continue to live beyond death. It gives new meaning to the nickname "dead forest".

The "dead forest" certainly wasn't like this many decades ago, around the time that Donna was alive.

"Who is Donna?"—you might ask? "And what could she possibly have to do with this fascinating "dead forest"?

You will soon find out her connection to the forest in this story. But Donna was an amazing, young woman who was born in the mid-1950s—one of the first in her family born on American soil. Donna and her family were Spanish, not to be confused with Latin American—at least that's how ignorant Americans in the old days perceived Spaniards. It was often believed that since Spaniards and Latin Americans both speak Spanish, they should be considered one and the same.

But enough of all of that. Just understand that Donna and her family lived in a time when they were considered "Spanish"—the bull fighting people with all of their conquering splendor and pride. As for Donna, she certainly possessed the stereotypical Spanish appearance of long, raven black hair with dark Spanish eyed. But it was completed with fair skin. She was a pretty girl, to say the least, even at a very young age. When looking upon the child, one would immediately realize that Donna would grow up to be a very beautiful, young woman.

But it wasn't just her beauty that made Donna so outstanding. Donna reflected a certain wisdom and maturity that went many years beyond her age. This may have been attributed to her peculiar devotion to the Catholic faith. She spent many hours in the church, kneeling and praying before the numerous statues of the Blessed Mother and saints. At eight years old, she felt their constant presence and guidance. Keep in mind that this was in the days before the reformation of the Roman Catholic Church, a time when the entire mass was spoken in Latin and very few people actually understood what was being said. However, through Catechism, the nuns revealed to Donna all the doctrines of the Catholic faith, and countless prayers to be said. And like mentioned above, Donna often wanted nothing more than to spend hours in the church to say the Rosary, and kneel before one saint or another to pray. Yes, there was something outstanding about her. Mother and Father eventually assumed that she would grow up to be a nun.

Donna disproved this notion by the time she reached high school age. Many of the boys were crazy about Donna. And Donna seemed to enjoy every bit of it.

"But, Donna..." cited Father one afternoon, upon realizing that he would have to protect his daughter from countless boys who might fall head-over-heels for her, "Don't you want to grow up to be a nun? All that time you spend in the church?"

"What?" challenged Donna. "When did I ever say anything about becoming a nun? I just like to pray, that's all. I want to get married some day and have a family."

Not that there's anything wrong with becoming a nun or—in the case of a young man—a priest, but Mother and Father felt a sense of relief with this.

***

Too bad Donna's parents were unable to protect their daughter against her future boyfriend, Stan. The home that Stan lived in had the town's cemetery just behind their backyard. A look out one of the back bedrooms would reveal the numerous gravestones, cement crucifixes and statues. And the only thing separating their backyard from the cemetery was a chain link fence. Now there are those who might believe that most people would have a problem with purchasing and living in a home near a cemetery. But this isn't' the case. Surprisingly, most people agree that a cemetery off the backyard is a beautiful sight. It's peaceful and tranquil. And most people are sensible to realize that the dead don't hang around their graves. Are you, the reader, going to hang around your grave when you die?

But back to Stan. For the most part, Stan was a normal boy while growing up. But he developed some peculiar sexual perversions around the age of puberty. Remember, this was a time when people maintained a sense of decency. Sex was a big no-no back in those days. So when Stan developed those natural urges around early puberty, he buried them in the dark corners of his mind—hid them from parents, teachers, priests and the likes who would have scolded and punished Stan for thinking such things. And he wouldn't dare disclose his fantasies to his ever-dwindling group friends who were already noticing something odd about Stan. Someone might have told on him.

Then came a late summer in 1959 when a young woman named Lisa had been tragically killed in a car crash in town. At fourteen years old, Stan watched from his bedroom window as countless family and friends of Lisa assembled around her gravesite for one final goodbye. The gravesite could be seen directly from Stan's window. For some time after, Stan remained at the bedroom window and watched as mourners departed, soon to be replaced by gravediggers who lowered the casket of Lisa into the ground. It was then that Stan received the first morbid fetish of his life. He realized in that moment that a freshly-dead woman would possess a body with flesh that was still intact. Her face and hair remain pretty with eyes closed as-if only sleeping... sleeping forever, as if never to wake up. How easy it might be to unearth the casket of a freshly-dead woman and enjoy those forbidden treasure that would otherwise never have been had. But this state of beauty would only be temporary. It would be a race against the clock for sure. A dead woman doesn't hold forever. Soon her body begins to decompose.

To fuel this morbid fetish all the more, Stan discovered a couple of mornings later the front page of the local newspaper laying on the kitchen counter which had a picture of Lisa and the sad story of how mourners buried her. From what Stan could see in the black and white image, Lisa was definitely pretty. And now she was buried right behind his backyard. He could simply climb over the chain link fence to be with her at night.

And so this is what Stand did late that night upon waking up with sexually-driven morbid thoughts in his head. He lay there in bed with a strong urge to go outside and just lay on her fresh grave. Everyone in the house was sleeping, so they would never know if he sneaked outside and hopped the fence over to Lisa's grave. And the same could be said of the rest of the world.

It was simply a matter of slowly turning the knob to the back door and carefully stepping outside. Stan scurried over to the side perimeter of the backyard to reduce the chance of Mother or Father seeing him if they happened to look out the back window.

Finally, when at the chain link fence that separated the backyard from the cemetery, Stan slowly climbed up and over as if not to make any noise. From that point there was no turning back. Trembling with excitement, Stan ran over to Lisa's grave and sat down right on top of her.

She was dead, and would never be able to call out for help. Stan could do anything he wished to her without fear of being judged for his perverted nature. He stuck his fingers through the ground and imagined that it was Lisa's vagina that was being intruded upon.

Down below, Lisa lay in her coffin and silently screamed. Perhaps her jaw had fallen open in that very moment in an attempt to scream. But everyone knows that the dead can't cry out. They can only endure the defilement of their lifeless bodies.

Then, Stan did the most awful thing! Father, teachers and nuns all warned him to never do this. But in the few years of suppressing his sexual urges, Stan was compelled to masturbate, and began doing so by rubbing himself against Lisa' marble headstone. It felt so good to make a pretty young woman provide oral sex. She probably hated it, but could say nothing. Finally, Stan drilled and widened the hole in the ground with fingers, further widening Lisa's vagina. When wide enough, he lay on his belly and finished the act of defilement by fornicating Lisa until he released every bit of sexual frustration he had.

It was a very naughty thing for a boy that age to do. Had the police discovered him doing it, Stan would have probably gone to jail for molesting the dead. Had Father discovered him doing it, his ass would have been beaten with a belt until it bled. And if the Church ever discovered him doing it, Stan would have been excommunicated forever.

***

Sixteen-years-old and in high school, Stan had only a few friends. You see, there was something peculiar about Stan. Many of the kids would tease him and often alienate him. But that was okay. It provided Stan the much-needed opportunity to live out his morbid sexual fantasies all the more.

"How did he do this?"—you might ask?

Well, by his sophomore year, Stan was licensed to drive. He had a job at the local dime store where he worked on weekdays (after school) and on weekends. There he did small duties such as stocking shelves and working the cash register. Free from his parents with a car during this time (he used Mother's 1960 Dart to get to work), Stan took advantage of this time by momentarily sneaking away after work to the forest preserve to play out one of his morbid and perverted games.

But how did he do this? And what sort of morbid and perverted game did he play?

Well, Stan had a kid sister, Sherry, who—at the time—was ten years old. Sherry had a collection of toy dolls. So evil and sinister of Stan; he actually stole one of his kid sister's dolls and hid it in the trunk of the car along with a small, unused tool box that he found in the basement. He also brought with a hand shovel. He did this before going to work on a Tuesday afternoon. Then, after store close and time to go home, Stan instead drove out to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve which was only about five minutes out of his way. In the parking lot, he retrieved his sister's doll and the small metal box along with the hand shovel. He jogged down a path which led him out to the middle of the forest. From there, he found a gnarly, old tree which was perfect to bury the freshly dead corpse of an unfortunate woman. It just so happened that she was easy to carry and lock up in a small metal tool box. Pressed for time, Stan frantically dug a small hole near the tree and then set the toolbox at the bottom, after which the hole was filled back up with dirt. To make the fantasy all the more real, Stan placed a nearby large stone at the head of the burial. Now, finally, he had a dead woman at a grave that he could have sex with whenever he wanted.

Stan was pressed for time, however. Mother and Father were surely at home and noticing that he was running late. With small shovel in hand, Stan jogged back to the car and head home.

Upon arriving home, Mother and Father seemed clueless as to what happened.

Later that night, Stan awoke around 2:00am and suddenly experienced a surge of excitement upon realizing that he had a dead woman in the ground of the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. How he wished he could just hop in Mother's car and drive there to unearth his toy and ultimately live out his morbid fetish. But it would have to wait. Stan would have to wait until Thursday when he worked at the dime store and would have another opportunity to sneak away in Mother's car.

***

Late Thursday afternoon, around 5:30, Stan quickly stocked the shelves with the remaining merchandise that had just been received earlier that day. At the cash register, the store owner had a small line of customers who he rang up.

"Thank you very much and have a great evening... Oh, that's a fine product that will make your hair look so shiny... Yes, we try to make sure that batteries are the lowest priced in town..."

Finally finished, Stan wheeled the cart of empty boxes out to the back dumpster and quickly broke them down before tossing them in. He shook with excitement. He needed to leave for the evening, and it was a race against time

"You all done, boy?" the owner, Mr. Green, asked Stan.

"Yes sir."

"Now tomorrow will be payday." reminded Mr. Green. "And make sure you will be here on time to start work, okay? You'll probably be working the cash register for me."

"Yes sir." agreed Stan. He could have cared less at that moment. Stan just wanted to finally leave for the evening so he could get to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. He nearly ran out the back entrance of the dime store and over to his mother's car. He almost backed into the dumpster when pulling out of the parking spot.

"Hey, watch out!" warned Mr. Green who happened to look outside the back entrance.

"Sorry!" apologized Stan.

He pulled out onto the road and head to Berry Bush Forest Preserve. And of course he had the hand shovel hidden in the trunk. On this particular late afternoon which was turning into early evening, Stan would be unearthing a fresh corpse and making love to it.

There was something about that particular session that Stan attributed to his imagination. While finally pulling into the parking lot of the Forest Preserve, Stan felt as though someone had followed him and was watching. Was it the police? Was it Mr. Green who found Stan's behavior of rushing out of the store peculiar? Or did Father decide to check up on Stan to see if he sneaked away after work to do some cruising in Mother's Dart?

Stan carefully looked around the empty forest preserve parking lot before finally exiting. He opened the trunk and removed the handheld shovel. Then he ran as quickly as he could to the burial site of his fresh corpse.

Stan dug and unearthed the metal tool box. When opened, there lay a terrified-appearing doll. Maybe dolls have a hidden life and consciousness that is given at the factory. If this is true, perhaps she worried that she would be buried in the ground forever.

Stan sensed the awareness and fear from the doll. In his perception Stan believed that he experienced for the first time a raising of the dead. Through the power of imagination and some unknown magickal forces, Stan's freshly buried corpse had stirred awake from eternal slumber to meet the one who would ultimately defile it.

"The dead cannot scream out for help. No one will hear you." reminded Stan to the doll. He said this while enjoying every second of removing the dolls burial dress. Underneath the clothes the bare thighs, buttocks and breasts were still intact. The process of decomposing had yet to begin.

"Oh yes..." exclaimed Stan as his heart raced with excitement. In that moment, Stan did a naughty thing to that doll while fulfilling his wildest morbid sexual urges. When finished, he initially wasn't going to clean up the doll. He was simply going to leave his mess all over her naked body. But then Stan "awoke" from his fantasy and realized that the corpse wasn't really a corpse. It was simply a toy doll which had helped him to live out his morbid fetishes. When those morbid fetishes resumed, Stan could return to the forest preserve and unearth the doll for more pleasure. For that matter, Stan used his sock to wipe and clean the mess from the doll. He redressed the doll, lay it back into the metal tool box and observed in delight as she continued to exhibit a terrified expression.

Stan wickedly laughed while closing the lid, then buried the metal toolbox back into the ground.

***

"Where have you been, young man???" demanded Father who was standing by the front door as Stan walked in.

"I was at work." carefully answered Stan.

"No you weren't!" accused Father. I fueled up at the Texaco gas station before it closed for the night and then happened to drive past the dime store. The lights were out, and the owner, Mr. Green, was leaving for the night. "Now where were you?"

Stan was at a loss of words. He certainly couldn't admit to living out his morbid fetishes at the forest preserve. He merely looked at the ground and shrugged his shoulders while answering, "I don't know..."

"You don't know?" challenged Father. "Well aren't you man enough to be honest and admit that you were joy-riding in your Mother's car?"

Mother stood behind the kitchen door and listened attentively. She hoped that Father would talk some sense into their son. She suspected that maybe he was joy-riding in her car after work.

"Now I want you to tell me where you were tonight. Or maybe you'd like a good, stiff beating. That's what you need if you ask me! We've been waiting for you to come home for dinner, and your mother has been worried sick."

"I guess I just wanted to drive a little..." explained Stan. "You know... get a little practice?"

Father returned a menacing look. "You don't need any extra practice. When you finish work, you are to come home. Understand?"

"Yes sir..." answered Stan.

"Now clean up for dinner! And you're grounded this weekend!"

The reader shouldn't feel so bad for Stan. It's what he deserved for the terribly-naughty thing that he did.

***

The following weekend when Stan wasn't grounded, he developed a sudden interest in riding his bicycle. Although he was now licensed to drive and could borrow Mother's car for legitimate use, Stan showed a peculiar need to resume riding a bicycle. He did this, of course, to avoid any further problems with driving the car to the forest preserve to have his way with that doll buried in the metal toolbox.

Of course Father was initially curious and somewhat suspicious. "Back to riding your bike?"

"Yes sir."

"You can take your mother's car as needed." reassured Father. "We just need to know where you are going and what time you will be home."

"I kind of like to get some exercise." nervously explained Stan. Then he somewhat fessed-up to his objective in riding his bicycle. "I actually like to ride my bike over to Berry Bush Forest Preserve and ride around there for the scenery and stuff."

Father sighed, "Well... Let me think about that... Are you sure you are not going there to do some questionable activity? I hope it doesn't involve girls. No girl, after all, belongs in the forest to have a young man try and pull tricks on her. The only ones I can think of are the bad girls. And I don't think I want you meeting bad girls in the forest preserve. Is that what you are doing? "

"No sir!" reassured Stan. "I just like to ride my bike. And when I want to take out a girl, I will ask to use Mom's car."

"You haven't joined a gang or anything, have you?" continued to probe Father.

"No sir."

Father sighed, "Well, okay. I suppose I'm just going to have to trust you."

"Thank you, Sir." And with that, Stan rode off down the street on a Saturday afternoon—a Saturday that he didn't have to work—to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve for some nice exercise and scenery. Ah, but we know his real reason for going there. Stan also had hidden in the leg of his trousers the hand shovel which was tucked into his sock. About a block away, Stan stopped for a brief moment to further tuck the shovel into his sock. He didn't want it falling out.

Onwards Stan peddled; down the main road in town, past the dime store where he worked, and to the entrance of the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. This time he simply bicycled his way through the trail and then stepped off to walk his bike the remainder of the way to the gravesite. When there, Stan quickly exhumed the steel toolbox and opened it up.

There lay the doll with her terrified expression on her face. How long would this morbid game last? How long would she need to endure the repeated rape? And how long would it be before Stan was no longer interested in her?

Now on this particular incident, Stan was in in danger. You see, Father wasn't one hundred percent convinced that his son was merely cycling over to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve to enjoy some scenery. What teenage boy is interested in that? And so Father waited about ten minutes after Stan left, and then drove over to the forest in his black Pontiac Bonneville.

Upon arrival, Stan was nowhere in sight.

"Well, he's probably out on the trail like he said he would be." Father put the transmission in park and turned off the engine. "Let's see if we can find him... see what that boy is up to."

There was another car parked in the lot, a gray 1960 convertible Thunderbird with the top down. Back in those days, leaving one's car unlocked and exposed wasn't such a stupid thing to do like it is nowadays. You see, people had a better sense of right and wrong and didn't look for opportunities to steal; probably because they had parents like Stan who made it their business to get into their kids' business.

"Well I wonder if this car belongs to those girls that Stan is meeting in the forest." speculated Father out loud.

But, despite what Father might have speculated, the car didn't belong to imaginary girls who were meeting Stan in the forest. Rather, it was a newlywed husband and wife who were enjoying a nice picnic out in the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. Actually, they were just finishing up, and were repacking their food into the basket.

"This was so nice." commented Laurie to her new husband, Richard, while finding room in the basket for the remaining chicken. "Richard?" she asked.

"Yes, Darling."

"Promise me that when we have a family, we'll take the kids out here to enjoy picnics like this."

"Of course, Darling. Anything you want..."

With that, Richard and Mary set off for the main trail to hike back to the car.

In the meantime, Stan's Father set off on the main trail to hike through the forest and look for his son. If Stan were truly riding his bike, all Father would have to do was listen for the sound of tires rolling in the gravel.

Back to Richard and Laurie; both leisurely hiked their way down the main trail. At one point, Laurie suddenly called out to her husband, "Richard?"

"What, Darling? What is it?"

"What's that boy doing over there? Did he fall down and get hurt?"

It was Stan who Laurie noticed. He was some fifty feet off the main trail and kneeling in the forest. Stan's back was arched and he was exhibiting a facial expression that reminded Laurie of someone who was in pain.

Richard, however, had a different interpretation. He knew the boy was doing something that was naughty. Richard assumed there was a girl laying beneath him. But keep in mind that this was olden times. Men were gentlemen, and wouldn't dare suggest to their wives that sexual activity was taking place in the forest. "Umm... gee, that's strange." commented Richard. I don't know what he's doing."

"Well is he hurt?" suggested Laurie.

At this point, Stan looked up and realized that he had spectators—spectators who he made eye contact with. Immediately the morbid fantasy had ended.

"Are you alright?" called out Richard.

"Yeah, I'm okay answered Stan. I'm just getting something." While saying this, he quickly tossed the terrified doll into the metal tool box, closed the lid and set it back into the ground. Before covering it back up with soil, Stan nervously lay on the ground, and pulled his trousers back up in case the curious spectators would come over to see what he was doing.

But, apparently they were not interested. Both Richard and Laurie continued to hike back to the car. By now, Laurie realized that the boy was doing something that he shouldn't have been doing. But, again, things like this weren't discussed in olden times.

A few minutes later, Stan's father encountered Richard and Laurie on the walking path. "Excuse me!" he called out.

"Yes?" answered Richard.

"Is that your Thunderbird parked in the lot?" asked Stan's father. He wanted to verify that it didn't belong to those imaginary girls.

"It is." answered Richard with a note of concern. "Did it get hit?"

"No your Thunderbird is fine." reassured Stan's father. "I apologize. You see, my son is here and he claims he is out riding his bicycle in the woods. I was concerned that maybe he was meeting some girls out here."

Richard nervously glanced at his wife.

Richard's father definitively noticed. "You didn't happen to see a teenage boy riding his bike, did you?"

Laurie spoke up, "Well we did see that boy off the main trail. He was kneeling on the ground and..."

Richard interrupted his wife, "Yes, it looked like he was bending down to pick something up."

Laurie stared at her husband for a second. Was Richard sure that's all it was?

Stan's father grew all the more curious. "Kneeling on the ground? Are you sure he wasn't with some girls?"

It was then that Richard grew outraged. You see, Richard was a young newly-wed and felt a need to demonstrate himself as having a certain merit in society; maybe equal to those who are some years older than him. He sharply asked, "Hey, what's the big idea of asking all the questions about your son?

"I'm sorry..." apologized Stan's father.

But Richard continued, "If you're so concerned about what he's doing, then he's your responsibility, not ours!" Richard looked over to his wife and ordered, "Come-on, Laurie, let's go."

And with that, the pair of newly-weds continued hiking back to their car.

Poor Father, he was worried about his son. From the looks of the newly-weds, they had seen Stan doing something that wasn't right. What could Stan have possibly been doing? Father continued onward in hopes to locate his son.

Not more than three minutes later, Stan and his Father finally approached and faced one another on the main trail of the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. Stan knew that he was to stop and dismount his bicycle, and he did so.

"Well I suppose you have some explaining to do." began Father.

"Sir?" questioned Stan. "What do you mean? I'm riding my bike in the forest like I said I was going to do?"

"Never mind that!" snapped Father. I ran into a pair of newly-weds who said that they saw you in the forest off the main trail. They said you were kneeling on the ground."

Immediately Stan blushed, and his heart rate increased. Did they report to Father of what he was doing?

"Now I'm going to ask you once. What were you doing out there?"

Stan quickly made up a lie. "Well, Sir, I'm almost embarrassed to admit. I rode off the main trail to enjoy the scenery some more, but fell off my bike."

"You fell off you bike?" asked Father in disbelief.

"Yes, Sir, that's the honest truth. See my hands?" Stan held out his soiled hands which in truth had been dirtied by quickly covering the ground over the buried metal tool box. "They got dirty when I braced my fall. And that couple probably saw me at the very moment when I had fallen."

"Well are you alright?" asked Father with a note of concern.

"Yes, Sir." answered Stan. "My hands might be a little scraped, but I'll be okay."

"No, something's not adding up." remarked Father. Why is your heart racing? It looks like you are nervous. It looks like you are covering something up from me."

"Well I was riding my bike." offered Stan. "Of course my heart is beating faster. I swear, I'm telling you the truth about everything."

Father heard enough. As far as he was concerned, Stan had been doing something that he wasn't supposed to in those woods. But for now, he would play it off that he believed him. "Okay, fine." answered Father. "Maybe the whole situation just looked weird. Are you alright to make it back home?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then I'll see you when I get home."

With that, Stan mounted his bicycle and proceeded to ride off towards the parking lot of Berry Bush Forest Preserve. From there he peddled on the main road in town and head home. Halfway there, he realized that in his frantic state of quickly burying the toolbox, Stan had left Father's hand shovel near the grave.

"Oh no!" exclaimed Stan. "I'll have to go back later and get it." You see, Stan was worried that the pair of newly-weds would have called the police. He needed to quickly leave before the police possibly arrived.

Unfortunately for Stan, he would never have an opportunity to retrieve the hand shovel. Like mentioned above, parents were a little different back in those days. They didn't believe their kids when something looked suspicious. And kids weren't let off the hook so easily.

Stan's bicycle tires left fresh tracks on the gravel trail. Father simply followed them until they stopped at the place where Stan wandered off into the forest. Although Stan had gotten off his bicycle to walk it which no longer left tire tracks, Father simply continued to walk.

"He couldn't have gone too much further..." Father continued walking. "Anything... cigarettes... maybe a lipstick from whatever girl he was with..."

But what was this?

So unexpected; some fifty feet off the main trail and near a large, old tree; Father discovered a hand shovel. "That's my hand shovel." he silently exclaimed. "What in the world is that doing here?" Then he glanced over near the tree and could see that a fresh hole had been dug and then the dirt covered back over it. "He buried something?"

With the hand shovel, Father quickly began to dig around the area which—unbeknown to him—was the doll's grave. Moments later, he reached the metal toolbox. "This is my box." exclaimed Father. He pulled the metal toolbox from the ground and took a deep breath. "Alright, is he stealing money and hiding it...? Maybe from Mr. Green's dime store?"

But, no! It was nothing like this. When the metal toolbox was opened, there lay the terrified doll who quickly looked relieved to finally be rescued. Her ordeal of repeated rapes and then being buried in the ground was finally over.

"Why this is Sherry's doll!" exclaimed Father. "What is wrong with that boy?" He closed the lid, and walked back to the car with the metal toolbox and shovel in hand.

***

Fifteen minutes later, Father entered the house with both the toolbox and hand shovel. He entered the kitchen where Mother was cooking dinner. "Where's Stan?" he asked.

"Well he came home and went right up to his bedroom." answered Mother. "Why, is there something wrong?"

"I'm afraid there is." affirmed Father. He walked over to the foot of the stairs and called out, "Stan, come down here." While waiting, he set the toolbox and hand shovel on the kitchen table and then sat down.

Cautiously, Stan descended the stairs. He could tell by the tone of Father's voice that he was in trouble. And upon entering the kitchen, he could finally see what it was.

"Sit down." ordered Father.

Stan pulled out the chair and sat down at the table across from Father. His heart was definitely racing, now.

Mother stood near the kitchen counter and quietly prepared dinner while listening.

"Now don't tell me that your heart is racing because you were riding your bike." warned Father.

Stan remained silent.

"Son, I'm still at a loss of how to process all of this. You see, after you left, I followed your tire tracks until they ended. I assumed that was where you deviated off the main trail and hiked to wherever it was that you were going. And I was right. I'm sure you realize that there is no point in lying because this is clearly my hand shovel. That's what I found. And I noticed that there was a fresh hole which had been dug and covered up. I was really curious. I thought you had been stealing money from Mr. Green's dime store and was burying it in the forest. But then I uncovered my toolbox from the basement. And inside..." Father opened the metal toolbox. "...there lay your sister's doll. Young man, you have a lot of explaining to do."

Stan's face was beat red out of embarrassment and humiliation. All he could do was shrug his shoulders. "I... I... I was just..."

"Just what?" demanded Father.

Just then Stan's sister, Sherry, entered the kitchen and spotted her doll. "Betsy!" she exclaimed while rushing over.

"Sherry, no!" warned Father. "Your mother is going to have to clean Betsy. She's dirty." You see, although interrogating his son for an explanation, Father was aware of what Stan did to the doll in the forest. He resumed his interrogation, "Son, do you have any idea as to what this looks like?"

Stan shrugged his shoulders and did his best to keep from crying.

"This looks like you are some sort sexual pervert..."

"Henry!" cried out Mother.

"Let me finish!" snapped Father. "There is no point in pretending. Our son has a problem, and we need to correct this. As for you, young man..." he glared back at Stan. "It looks like you have some perverted desires of molesting the dead. That's called necrophilia. And it's a crime not only punishable by serving jail time, but it's also a mortal sin. I'm afraid I'm going to have to dish out some punishment to teach you a lesson—see to it that you never do this again.

Stan's lips quivered and the tears rolled down his cheeks. He knew the sort of punishment that Father referred to, and dreaded it.

"For starters, since you like playing in the dirt so much, you can go outside every Saturday and Sunday when you are not at the dime and do plenty of yardwork for us. And while doing that, you can think about what a bad kid you are. And Stan... I'm afraid this is going to hurt me more than you, but you can get your ass upstairs and bend over on the bed. I will be there shortly to deal with you.

Stan sobbed and ran up the stairs in terror. The last time Father dealt with him, he felt like he was close dying. He bent over and lay on the bed. While waiting, he imagined Sherry's doll who must have cried out for mercy whenever enduring Stan's sick play. Stan had been a monster in that doll's eyes, and ignored any pleas from her to stop. Perhaps Stan deserved what was about to happen.

In stormed Father with the thick, leather belt. He raised his arm in the air and unleashed the wrath of God across Stan's ass in the form of stinging leather. Father did it again and again—at least a dozen times before adding words to the beating. "You steal my metal toolbox and hand shovel to do something perverted in the forest preserve!"

Stan screamed and cried and even began to choke from the shock brought on by pain.

Father continued to beat his son. "You use your sister's doll to play perverted games! And I just know that the pair of newlyweds saw what you were doing with that doll!"

Downstairs, Sherry observed from the hallway as Mother frantically scrubbed her doll, Betsy. "Is she really dirty, Mommy?"

"Oh yes!" affirmed Mother. "She's very dirty!" Mother would see to it that every bit of filth and lust would be scrubbed off of that doll.

While being scrubbed, Betsy would occasionally glance at Sherry in hopes to communicate what a horrible ordeal she had endured.

Sherry could hear Father continuing to beat her brother Stan, upstairs, who choked and gasped for air while crying out. "Okay! Please! I've had enough! Please stop! I can't breathe anymore!"

But the leather strap continued to snap. Little did Sherry know that Stan was now sitting on the ground and kicking his legs, partly in reaction to pain and partly as an involuntary response to prevent any further whipping.

Stan's beating that fateful Saturday afternoon lasted for five minutes, long enough for Father to become exhausted and believe that he had beaten the sick and perverted nature out of his son. Immediately, Stan stood up to rush to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" demanded Father.

Stan cried, "I'm having trouble breathing. Please let me splash cold water on my neck and face so I don't pass out."

"No!" declared Father. "You get in bed and lay there. While you feel like you are dying, you can think about what a dirty pervert you are. Think about what life would be like in jail if you were ever caught molesting the dead. No supper tonight, either!"

Yes, it was a harsh punishment. But that's what Stan deserved for kidnapping Betsy, burying her in the woods, and repeatedly unearthing her to rape her like a corpse that could not cry out.

Too bad the beating didn't stick with Stan. Despite what Father may have believed, it didn't change him. Oh, Stan never asked to ride his bicycle again. He wouldn't dare. And he didn't return to the forest preserve to play perverted games with his sister's dolls. Still, the morbid fetishes remained with Stan throughout high school and after graduation.

***

It was expected—actually demanded—of Stan to join the Army after high school. Father believed that Stan needed a good drill sergeant to finally straighten out and make a man out of him. You see, Stan was mostly quiet in high school, and didn't make many friends. He didn't play sports and didn't pull the best grades. And there were still those concerns of Stan being a morbid pervert. Aside from that, Stan appeared to have no aspirations of doing much of anything after graduating except continuing to work at the dime store. He was nearly nineteen years upon graduating high school. What's more? It was only natural to join the military with talks of drafts for the Vietnam War.

Father took Stan to an armed forces recruiter one Monday morning.

"Yes! I do believe we can make a man out of your son!" declared the recruiter with a menacing look. "What do you say, boy?" he asked Stan. "Are you ready to be a man?"

Stan shrugged his shoulders, "Sure, I guess so..."

"You guess so?" challenged the recruiter with a confounded look. "Well that's one thing we're going to fix for you, boy. We're going to take the guess work out of everything." Then he looked at Father. "We can take him right now if you want. We've got a truck load of 'em heading out to boot camp just like your son, all on their way to be turned into men and soldiers."

"It sounds like a great idea to me." agreed Father. "You can take him."

Stan was in shock. He believed that he would only visit the armed forces recruiter to talk about joining. He didn't think he'd be shipped off to boot camp on that very day.

And when he finally arrived, there stood a mean drill sergeant who yelled at Stan and scolded him for being late. "Now drop and give me twenty!" ordered the drill sergeant.

"Yes, Sir!" answered Stan who dropped to the ground and struggled with all his might after the third push up.

"What, are you some kind of girl?" asked the mean drill sergeant. "You can't even do pushups?"

Stan huffed and puffed with beads of sweat pouring down his face. You see, Stan wasn't exactly fit to do strenuous activity. And this disgusted the drill sergeant all the more.

Stan's time in the military lasted all but three weeks. He couldn't even make it through boot camp. Back in those days, cadets were severely beaten and punished for being unable to fulfil the drills and exercises. And that's what happened to poor Stan. They beat the shit out of him, beat him bloody and unconscious. They beat him so bad, in fact, that he was unconscious for three days due a concussion. It was a miracle that Stan didn't die.

But the Army didn't feel the least bit sorry for Stan. Again, this was olden times and things were handled differently. As far as the Army was concerned, Stan failed boot camp and was dishonorably discharged.

Back at home, Mr. Green no longer needed Stan at his dime store. He found a replacement, a studious sophomore boy in high school who was working quite well. Fortunately for Stan, he quickly found an alternative. He managed to land a full time job at the local Texaco gas station as a pump and lube attendant. Stan was certainly knowledgeable on filling gas tanks. As for changing oil, Stan had done it for Father on a few occasions which made him qualified enough to work at Texaco.

It wasn't such a bad job. It paid fairly decent and enabled Stan to pay for Father's mandatory rent for living at home. It also enabled Stan to purchase his own car, a black 1959 Chevy Impala. Through his new network of coworkers and their friends, Stan landed a nice deal for the used car. So he no longer needed to ask Mom and Dad to use theirs. How's that for becoming a man?

Oh, but things would get even better for Stan once summer ended, right around the time when his yearly morbid fetishes began to stir. It was on Thursday, September 24th, 1964 when Stan sat in the family room with Mother, Father and his kid sister Sherry. They watched the very, first episode of The Munsters. And that's when Stan fell terribly in love with the wife, Lily Munster. You've seen her before, I'm sure; long, raven-black hair with a pale face and red lipstick—at least this was seen when the episodes were finally colorized. But viewers in those days swore that they could see the full colored morbid beauty of Lily Munster through the black and white TV screen. But Stan saw so much more than her morbid beauty. For Stan, Lily Munster was the woman he had been waiting for all his life. So haunted-looking, she was the sort of woman he could bury in a grave and later unearth for an evening of romance.

Poor Lily Munster...

"So is this how things got even better for Stan?"—you might ask? "He saw his first episode of The Munsters and fell in love with Lily Munster?"

No, that's not what happened. It only served as a precursor, and Stan would soon forget about Lily Munster. You see, the very next day, around 4:30 PM, a car pulled into the Texaco gas station—a 1962 Dodge Belvidere—with Stan's high school classmate, Fredrick, driving. In the passenger seat was Fredrick's girlfriend, Donna—the same Donna who was discussed at the beginning of the story. For all practical purposes, she was already grown up—a young woman.

Stan had to take a deep breath to pull himself out of disbelief. You see, this was beautiful Donna; Spanish with long, raven black hair, dark Spanish eyes, and fair skin. She was nearly a dead-ringer for Lily Munster! He remembered seeing Donna throughout high school. Why hadn't he noticed her before? Stan was in so much of a trance that moment that he initially walked up to the passenger side.

Donna could see the love in Stan's eyes. But she had Fredrick, now a soldier who had successfully graduated boot camp and was waiting to hear word of when he would be deployed for the Vietnam War.

"Over here Stan!" ordered Fredrick from the driver seat.

"Oops, sorry!" apologized Stan. "I guess it's been a long day."

For some strange reason, Donna momentarily felt sad.

"So how have you been, Fredrick?" nervously asked Stan while trying to make small talk.

"Not too bad." answered Fredrick. "And you?" But before Stan could answer, Fredrick was sure to jab the knife in. "I hear you didn't make it in boot camp. Yeah it's rough, ain't it?"

Stan sighed, "Yeah..."

"I hear you were dishonorably discharged." continued Fredrick.

Donna sadly called out, "Fredrick, that's not nice."

But Fredrick ignored his girlfriend. He was a soldier, and no girl was going to dictate what was nice. "I heard they beat shit of you."

Stan now felt about two-feet tall. "Yeah, I was unconscious for a few days..."

"Sorry to hear that." finalized Fredrick before ordering, "Fill it up with five dollars regular."

"You've got it." acknowledged Stan who walked over to the gas pump. Normally he would ask the customer if he should check under the hood. But with as humiliated as he felt, Stan wanted Fredrick to be gone as soon as possible. But not Donna! How Stan wished that Donna would have voiced her disgust in the way Fredrick had treated Stan, and then exit his vehicle to be with Stan for the remainder of the evening. Stan did clean the windshield while the gas pumped. For a split second he managed to glance in towards the passenger seat at Donna who returned a micro-second sad look which communicated how sorry she was.

"Okay, that will be fiver dollars." announced Stan after hanging up the gas pump.

Fredrick handed a five dollar bill and a single out the window. "Keep the change." Then he drove off with beautiful Donna in the passenger seat.

***

It had been over two years since Stan paid a visit to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. After that severe beating from Father on that fateful Saturday, Stan avoiding the place mostly out of fear that Father would be lurking. But Stan was older now. He worked, paid rent, and had his own vehicle. There was no reason why he couldn't visit the old burial spot on a Friday night after work which just so happened to be the same Friday when Fredrick visited the gas station with beautiful Donna sitting in the passenger seat.

It was late afternoon, actually nearing twilight, as Stan pulled into a parking spot at Berry Bush Forest Preserve. He put the transmission in park and turned off the engine. Located a few spots away was a vehicle with a couple that were necking.

"Is this the new lover's lane?" Stan thought to himself.

The couple briefly stopped with their passionate necking—young kids still in high school—and observed Stan. It was no one they recognized, so they resumed making out.

Stan walked the main trail for some minutes until reaching that place where he would deviate into the forest preserve. From there he continued until reaching the tree where he used to play his morbid game of unearthing Father's metal toolbox with terrified doll laying inside. With over two years passed and extreme weather conditions, evidence of a hole once being there was gone.

Stan was older now, and didn't really feel like playing with dolls. But how he needed an outlet to fulfil his morbid fetishes. He gazed off into the distance of the forest while briefly pondering for a moment. It was then that his attention was drawn to a large, old tree some distance off in the forest. There were actually two of them towering over the forest side-by side, but it was the one on the left that really caught Stan's attention. It was clearly an old tree that had to be at least three to four hundred years old.

But why would an old tree catch Stan's attention?

It was because the tree exhibited the shape of a young woman; the curvaceous sort of woman... perhaps one that has long, raven, black hair with dark, Spanish eyes and fair skin... perhaps someone, exactly, like Donna. Has the reader ever taken notice of a very, old tree? It's beautiful to say the least. But pay attention to the outer surface and how the bark begins to build up curvy, irregular designs. It might remind you of a curvaceous woman. But would you fall in love with the tree in a way that Stan was beginning to do? Stan was spellbound and captivated. The more he looked at the tree, the more it resembled—perhaps—a wooden sculpture of the sort of woman he had been waiting for his entire life; someone like Donna.

Stan left his once-upon-a-time burial place of the doll, and linked back to the main trail. He walked and walked for over a hundred feet until at a location where he felt he could deviate off the trail and reach the tree. Oh, but it was no easy task. It required a bit of bushwhacking and then climbing down a ravine. When finally at the bottom, Stan approached the old tree which strongly resembled Donna.

Stan reached out and touched the sides of the old, curvy trunk as-if he were gently caressing Donna's hips. If Stan didn't know any better, there was something living in the tree—a spirit or some sort of ghost. And in that moment, Stan was able to use his morbid fetishes and fantasize of bringing to life whatever ghost or spirit was in that tree. After all, Stan had been fascinated for some years of the notion of raising the dead.

It was almost as-if Stan were having a conversation with the tree which was now the clear manifestation of something that resembled Donna.

"What's wrong? What's troubling you?" she asked.

"I don't know..." answered Stan.

"Of course you do." she insisted. "You just haven't taken the time to look deeper into what is happening. Now what happened? What brought your here?"

With hands still on the hips of the curvaceous woman before him, Stan danced with the spirit in the forest. "I guess I saw Donna... I saw you..." began Stan. "I saw you sitting in Fredrick's car, and could have sworn that there was some chemistry between us. It's almost like you are supposed to be mine and not with Fredrick."

"Well Donna is yours." reassured the spirit. "And she's mine as well. That's why she resembles me. You see, I am the spirit mother of Donna, the young woman who you are in love with. And to be in love with Donna means that you are in love with me as well. Together we form a nice trio. You should bring Donna here to see me, and we can finally be one."

"How am I going to do that?" challenged Stan. "She thinks she belongs to Fredrick."

"Fredrick?" scoffed the spirit. "He's going off to war pretty soon. Donna will be all alone, and a lot can happen in a few years. You will have plenty of time to change her mind for us."

"Yeah? You think?" questioned Stan.

"Oh, come-on!" insisted the spirit. "I'm her spirit mother. I know Donna, and I know how things will unfold for her. Just wait until Fredrick goes off to war. Then start working on making her yours."

***

Two Friday's later, Stan had the evening off from the gas station with nothing to do. He decided to treat himself to a movie.—Mary Poppins of all things! While waiting in line at the concession stand for popcorn, Stan was surprised to see Donna walk over with her friend, Barbara.

"Hi Donna!" excitedly greeted Stan. "What are you doing here?"

"Probably the same thing you are doing." teased Donna. "Waiting in line for popcorn and then going to see the movie."

Barbara stood nearby and shook her head in disbelief while smiling.

Stan blushed, "Oh, yeah... I guess that was a silly question." Then he asked, "Where's Fredrick?"

"You didn't hear?" asked Donna. "They shipped him off to duty. He'll be gone for at least a couple of years."

Stan wasn't sure how to react or what to say. "Oh, I bet you're really worried, aren't you?"

"I try not to think about anything." carefully answered Donna. "I just look forward to him coming home. He said he'd write me whenever he can."

"I'm sure everything will be fine." reassured Stan. Feeling it was best to quickly change the direction of the conversation, he turned his attention to Donna's friend. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Barbara..." she answered.

"Nice to meet you, Barbara." added Stan. Then he asked both Donna and Barbara, "And what movie are you girls going to see tonight?"

"Mary Poppins..." answered Donna.

"You don't say!" exclaimed Stan. "So am I!"

Donna laughed, "Really? You don't seem like the sort of guy who would be into Mary Poppins!"

"I heard it was a good movie." explained Stan.

"It's a musical." added Barbara. "Guys aren't really into those."

The three continued to inch there way forward in line and were now close to the concession stand. Stan suddenly felt like this was his only opportunity to make a move on Donna. "Hey..." he began. "You girls don't mind if I sit with you, do you?"

Donna and Barbara shrugged their shoulders.

Donna answered, "Sure, why not?" Oh, but of course she wouldn't even think of allowing another man to court her. As far as Donna was concerned, Fredrick would marry her once returning from war. Sitting next to Stan at the movie theater was simply that and nothing more.

Stan was next in line. "Yeah, I'll have a large popcorn with extra butter and a Coke. And give me two more of the same for both of these girls, here."

"Wow!" exclaimed Barbara.

"Wow!" that was really nice of you, Stan." further exclaimed Donna. "You are a really nice guy."

In the movie theater, Stan sat right next to Donna. In that two-and-a-half hours, Stan couldn't help but savor every moment of smelling Donna's nearby hair. You see, Donna had long hair which draped over the seat and even brushed across Stan's shoulder on occasion. Of course he didn't mind. And if Stan didn't know any better, Donna seemed to really enjoy sitting next to him. And she was really impressed when Stan shared the rest of his popcorn with her after she had eaten her own. It almost felt like Stan and Donna were out on a date that night.

It felt so much like a date, in fact, that Stan actually visited Donna later that night, long after the world had gone to bed. He learned of Donna's address some hours before while giving Donna and her friend, Barbara, a ride home from the movie theater. The two had walked to the theater that Friday. You see, Donna and Barbara had yet to start driving. I suppose both women belonged to old fashioned families in which it wasn't necessary for women to drive. This was common in olden times. But this seemingly unfair custom helped Stan feel all the more like he were on a date with beautiful Donna. In the parking lot of the theater she seemed to naturally sit in the passenger seat, as-if she were Stan's girlfriend. Barbara sat in the backseat—three wheeling... poor Barbara.

Stan didn't immediately drop Donna and Barbara off. He first stopped at the drive-in Dog-n-Suds to treat both girls— _especially Donna_ —to a late-night snack of hotdogs, fries and root beer in frosted mugs. This helped Stan feel all the more like he were on a date with beautiful Donna. And Donna was very impressed with how friendly and generous Stan could be. She never knew that he was like this. Why hadn't she paid more attention to Stan in high school?

It was Barbara who was first dropped off that night. Interesting thing: halfway to her house, Barbara realized that there was some chemistry taking place between Donna and Stan. She was very surprised with how free-spirited Donna had suddenly become with Fredrick away at war. Would Stan take Donna away? She wondered this more and more.

"I'll call you tomorrow." said Barbara while exiting the vehicle. There was something in her tone of voice which suggested that she was onto Donna.

"Good night Barbara." called out Donna in return. As far as she was concerned, Barbara had no need to worry. She was only getting a ride home from Stan who had spent the evening with the two young women. Donna's heart, after all, belonged one hundred percent to Fredrick.

Oh, but things turned a bit awkward at the curb of Donna's house. In the passenger seat, she turned and thanked Stan for a nice time that evening. If Donna hadn't known any better, she and Stan enjoyed a nice evening together like an actual date. And then there was the peculiar sense of expecting a kiss from Stan. It almost felt unnatural leaving his car and walking up to the house.

Stan watched as beautiful Donna nearly floated up the sidewalk to the front door of the home with her long, raven-black hair draped behind her back and shoulders. Like a real gentleman, he made sure that she made it safely through the front door. Inside the car, the scent of Donna lingered. It was a smell that Stan savored as he drove out of Donna's subdivision and onto the main road of town.

"I can't go home right now!" declared Stan. "My brain is going crazy!" And right he was. So much in love and terribly frustrated with how Donna was not his, Stan would be unable to go home and relax for the evening before falling asleep. He pulled into the Texaco gas station where he worked which was closed for the evening. But Stan wasn't there for gas. He reached into his pocket for some spare change and counted out enough for a pack of cigarettes at the vending machine which was located at the front of the building. Stan occasionally smoked, but tried not to make it a habit. He had actually gone several months without a cigarette. But with how he was feeling now, Stan really needed one.

Back in the driver seat, Stan pushed in the electric cigarette lighter located near the dashboard. To younger readers: You know those sockets in modern-day cars where we plug in accessories such as cell phones to charge them up? Well in olden times these were simply a heating element that when pressed in would make electrical contact with the battery. When ready, the element was glowing red and capable of lighting a cigarette.

While waiting for the cigarette lighter to warm up, Stan opened his pack of cigarettes and immediately flipped one upside down and inserted it back into the package. "Lucky cigarette!" declared Stan. "I'll need it for if and when that lucky moment comes with Donna." This "lucky cigarette" ritual is sometimes followed by cigarette smokers; open a new pack and designate one to be your "lucky smoke".

The lighter clicked and popped out—indicator that it was ready. Stan touched the glowing red to his cigarette and lit up. He took a deep drag, and then pulled onto the main road. "It just felt like there was supposed to be more." Stan said out loud while driving. "She was expecting more from me." He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was quarter to midnight. "Maybe some driving and a couple more smokes..." Stan said to himself. He suddenly had a bold idea.

And what was this bold idea?

At five minutes to one, as most of the world—and hopefully Donna's parents—slept, Stan drove through Donna's subdivision and turned onto her street. Four houses down from Donna's, he parked on the curbside and turned the engine off. Stan quietly exited his vehicle by carefully pushing the driver side door shut. While taking a final drag of his cigarette—no, not the lucky cigarette—and tossing it into the street, Stan walked across the grass parkways of each home to avoid the sound of shoes on the sidewalk. When finally at Donna's home, he walked around the side and into the backyard.

Donna's home was small ranch, so all the rooms were on ground level. Stan had no idea which bedroom was Donna's. This next feat was pure chance, a chance that could have cost him blowing everything. He took his best guess, and carefully walked over to what he believed to be Donna's bedroom window. Then he softly knocked. In the frame of mind that Stan was in, he believed that Donna was lying awake and thinking about him. If this were true, a knock on the window would be most welcome—surely Stan.

A light turned on in the bedroom, probably a small light on a nightstand.

"What am I doing?" Stan softly cried to himself.

Fingers carefully pulled the curtains back just enough to allow looking outside. From behind, it was definitely the face Donna.

Stand nervously waved and smiled.

Donna slowly opened her bedroom window to avoid making noise, and then whispered, "Stan, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry." whispered Stan in return. "If you want, I'll leave. I just wasn't ready to go home, and I was wondering if you were still awake."

"Actually, I was lying awake in bed." confessed Donna. "I was having trouble falling asleep."

"Something on your mind?" probed Stan.

"Not that I know of..."

Stan sighed, "You know... I couldn't go home because I kept thinking about tonight. I really enjoyed my time with you and... Your friend..."

"Barbara." finished Donna with a smile.

"Yes, Barbara. Anyway, I really wish I would have gotten to know you better in high school. But it's probably too late."

There were several seconds of awkward silence before Stan continued, "I know Fredrick is away at war, and that you'll probably get married when he comes home. But maybe while he's gone you and I can just... you know... hang out and be friends."

Donna was taken aback. "Stan, I don't know if Fredrick would appreciate that. I promised him that I would remain faithful while he's gone. Hanging out could lead to any number of things. And besides, my parents—my father, especially—is very strict with me when it comes to boys. I'm not like other girls who just leave the house when someone honks the horn from the street. A boy has to come inside and meet my parents. And my father really gives the third degree. You don't even want to know what Fredrick had to go through just to take me out on our first date."

"Yeah?" challenged Stan.

"Yes..." insisted Donna. "You would have to come in and meet my father. And I don't know how that would go." Donna knew that her father would not like Stan. He just didn't look like the sort of boy Father felt should be with Donna. And there was no way to explain this to Stan.

Stan was at a loss of words. He felt defeated. "Well is it bad that I'm here?"

"I don't mind that you're here." reassured Donna. She even offered encouragement, "I actually like that you came here tonight to see me. Really I like you. You're a nice guy."

"Well you wouldn't mind if I sometimes come over to see you like this late at night, would you?" asked Stan.

"You would have to be extra cautious and very quiet." urged Donna. "But I wouldn't mind."

***

On Sunday afternoons the Texaco gas station where Stan worked always closed at around two o'clock. And on that particular Sunday, Stan used the free time as an opportunity to make a trip to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve, and pay a visit to the newfound tree that looked so much like Donna. There had been much on his mind since Friday night, all of it pertaining to Donna. Donna was so beautiful, and there was definitely chemistry between her and Stan. And the last time Stan visited the tree, it seemed to have a way of providing him with a sense of hope.

And so, after walking some distance on the trail that beautiful autumn Sunday afternoon, Stan reached the location where he knew he could deviate off the main path and hike over to the tree. And just like before, it was no easy task with bushwhacking and climbing down the somewhat steep ravine. Surely it would be very challenging to visit the remote location at night.

When finally at the bottom, Stan approached the old tree which now looked, exactly, like Donna. Just like before, he reached out and touched the sides of the old, curvy trunk as-if he were gently caressing Donna's hips. He knew from the last visit that there was something living in the tree—a spirit or some sort of ghost. And by using the power of his morbid fetishes and fantasies, Stan was able to call to life whatever ghost or spirit was in that tree.

"She's faithful to Fredrick." Stan now said to the tree. It was then he recalled that the tree had identified itself as Donna's spirit mother. But how could that be? And just what is a spirit mother?

"So many questions..." commented the tree who no longer resembled anything like a tree. It was a woman; an older woman; a wiser—almost ancient—woman who beared a striking resemblance to Donna. She now embraced Stan as the two slowly danced about the forest. "I don't reside in this place." she explained. "This forest... this tree... These things are not here where I exist. But you can thank the sprites—the spirits of nature—who cooperate with me and open a magick door so that I may visit. And a spirit mother is one and the same with its Earthly descendant. I am Donna and Donna is me. Again, it's because I am her spirit mother."

"I see..." answered Stan, still a bit confused as to what he was experiencing.

"Why do you have so much anxiety with Donna?" challenged Donna's spirit mother. "I told you last time that since you are in love with Donna, you are also in love with me. I also told you that, together, we form a nice trio. And you were instructed to bring Donna here to see me. Don't worry about what she does now. I know how things will unfold for her, and she soon will be yours. Then you can bring her here to me."

"But how?" asked Stan.

"Just keep doing what you are doing." clarified Donna's spirit mother. Everything will work out according to fate."

***

And so Stan waited until Friday of that week before seeing beautiful Donna again. This would have been Friday, October 9th to be precise which is important because the Moon was in the waxing gibbous phase—about three quarters full for those not so astronomy savvy. You'll understand later why the Moon was so important in these next couple of weeks for Stan and Donna.

Stan drove around town much of the early part of the evening. Although October, the weather was unusually warm. Stan had his windows rolled down, and he smoked a cigarette (the same pack that he had purchased the previous Friday) while listening to the radio.

"What am I going to say...? What am I going to say...?" Stan nervously repeated out loud while approaching a red light. He was at the main intersection in town, and stopped next to a 1958 Chevy. Inside were a couple of boys that Stan recognized who were still in high school. By now they would have been seniors. And they definitely recognized Stan.

"Hey Stan!" called out the driver.

"Hey, how's it going?" acknowledged Stan. "How are things back at the old school?"

"Everything's still the same." the kid answered. "Won't let you do nothing..."

By then the light turned green. The kid in the '58 Chevy apparently felt he should show off by peeling away as if drag racing.

Stan chuckled, "No, I've got enough excitement ahead for the evening. I need to stay as calm as possible." Through the windshield, Stan glanced up at the sky while taking another drag from his cigarette. "Oh, I bet that Moon is going to make it hard to sneak around the backyard of Donna's house. Damnit! Maybe I picked the wrong night."

He glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

9:50pm.

"It's still too early." said Stan. "Maybe I'll head over to the woods and hang out there for a while."

And so Stan drove to the end of town and entered the parking lot of Berry Bush Forest Preserve. Back in those days—at least in the area where Stan lived—forest preserves did not close after dark. Again, people knew how to behave in olden times and didn't necessarily head off to the forest preserve to commit crimes. The worst thing one might have seen would have been a car or two with a boy and girl, inside, necking. And sure enough, as Stan pulled into parking lot, there were a few cars in spots where kids were too busy necking to take notice.

Stan felt awkward just sitting there by himself. And by now he knew the forest very well. The moonlight made it possible to see fairly well in the woods; so he exited the vehicle, and followed the trail some distance. He hiked so far that he actually reached the area where he could deviate off the path and follow it to the old tree.

Now this was the first time that Stan had ever visited the forest at night. Being the case, he soon noticed that the moonlight actually illuminated the entire ravine and valley below which led to the old tree. With just a bit of the usual bushwhacking and some hiking down the steep ravine, Stan found himself in a beautiful moonlit realm where the old tree stood at the center. It was amazing, breathtaking, and nothing short of magickal.

Stan spoke to the tree which stood some fifty feet away. "I should bring her here on a night like this, shouldn't I? Maybe tonight?"

The tree said nothing in return. It didn't transform itself into Donna's spirit mother. Perhaps the sprites were too busy doing their late night activities to open a magickal doorway and bring the spirit mother through. But she was still there with Stan. She was there in spirit, and had a way of communicating through the vast distance of interdimensional veils.

Stan hung out in the valley for a couple of hours and smoked some cigarettes. Although turning a bit chilly as the night unfolded, it didn't particularly bother Stan so much.

By five minutes after midnight, Stan left the magickal, moonlit valley of Donna's spirit mother and hiked back to his car. By the time he reached the parking lot, there were no more kids there necking. It must have been past curfew for the kids in town.

Stan head back into town, en route to Donna's subdivision. He looked up at the sky and noticed that the Moon was beginning to make its descent into the western horizon. Maybe it was low enough to no longer illuminate Donna's backyard which would surely call attention of Stan's presence to neighbors and... _DONNA'S PARENTS!_

Just like the previous week, Stan parked at the curbside four doors down from Donna's house, and quietly exited his vehicle by carefully pushing the driver side door shut. He walked across the grass parkways of each home to avoid the sound of shoes on the sidewalk. Although setting, the Moon still provided enough illumination to possibly be seen. When reaching Donna's house, Stan nervously walked around the side and into the backyard. From there he followed his way over to Donna's bedroom window.

Stan took a deep breath, and then lightly tapped at the window. He waited about ten seconds, but Donna didn't come over to the window. Stan knocked a second time, a bit louder, and quickly regretted doing this for fear of waking up Donna's family. He waited a few more seconds, and was about to quickly leave.

But then a small light turned on in Donna's bedroom, her face soon to appear from behind the curtains.

Stan nervously waved and smiled.

Donna slowly and carefully opened her bedroom window as-if not to wake up anyone in the house. When opened enough, she whispered, "Stan, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, Donna." Stan whispered in return. "I didn't know you were sleeping.

"Well it's after 12:30." cited Donna.

"Should I leave?" asked Stan.

"No, that's okay." reassured Donna. "How have you been? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine." answered Stan. "I just came here to see you. I miss you... you know?"

"That's very nice of you Stan." cited Donna. "Isn't it cold out there for you?"

"It's not so bad." answered Stan. "If you're out here long enough you get used to it." He was almost going to say, " _Too bad you weren't out here with me instead of staying at home on a Friday night_." But Stan knew better.

"I got a letter from Fredrick." informed Donna. "He says he's surviving, and there's not too much excitement for now. He says that he really misses me."

"Well of course he misses you." emphasized Stan. "You're probably the only thing that keeps him going right now. He probably keeps reminding himself that when he gets home, he'll finally see you and then marry you."

Donna nodded in agreement as Stan said this.

Stan wasn't exactly sure what to say next to keep the conversation flowing. It was then that he began to speak of the magickal valley of Donna's spirit mother. "You know, I came here after seeing something absolutely remarkable. It was in the woods. Do you ever go to the woods?"

"I've been there a couple of times." answered Donna. "My parents took us there on a couple of nice days for a picnic." Donna then made a queer look. "Stan, don't tell me that you were in the woods late at night."

"Oh, but I was." insisted Stan. "You see, there's this... well I'm almost embarrassed to admit to you... There's an old tree in the forest that I seem to have taken a liking towards. The reason I think I like it is because it sort of resembles you."

The look on Donna's face turned queerer by the second. She never had someone tell her that she beared a resemblance to an old tree out in the forest before.

"Now I know what you're thinking." continued Stan. "You think I'm crazy for noticing something like that. And you probably think I'm some kind of kook for going into the woods at night. But get this: Any time I go there, I feel like I've been transported to some other place. It's like I've died except my body is still alive, and I make a quick visit to another place."

Donna's queer expression suddenly changed to fascination. You see, due to her religious devotion, Donna was fascinated with the afterlife, and assumed that this is what Stan was referring to.

Stan continued, "Tonight when I was there, the entire valley where this tree is at was lit up by the moonlight. It was like magick. And really felt like I was supposed to take you there."

"Stan, I don't know if..."

Suddenly, a noise could be heard from one of the other rooms in the house.

"You better go!" urged Donna. "She quickly closed the window and turned out the light.

Stan darted out of the backyard and down the street to his car. He started the engine and then idled some distance past Donna's house before using the accelerator to drive off. Cars were noisy in those days, and one had to do this if wishing to avoid detection.

***

On Saturday mornings, Donna's father would leave early for the golf course. After working hard all week, he felt he deserved the reward of a nice weekly game of golf with his brothers, friends, colleagues—whoever. Sunday, of course, was reserved for mass.

This Saturday ritual of Father playing golf provided Mother a chance to enter Donna's bedroom the morning following Stan's visit, and wake her up for a little talk before making breakfast for the family. She sat down at the foot of her daughter's bed, and marveled at what a beautiful, young lady Donna had become. But it was still Mother's duty to protect Donna and see to it that she make the right choices. "Donna, wake up." she called out.

Donna stirred awake and was startled to see her mother sitting at the foot of the bed. She immediately knew the nature of Mother's visit, and remained silent.

"You know why I'm here, don't you?" began Mother. "Was there someone with you last night in your bedroom?"

"No." quickly responded Donna. "It's just that..." she hesitated. Donna knew that it was best to be honest with Mother. Aside from that, it was against Donna's nature to lie. But how could she explain.

"Go on..." demanded Mother.

"Well, there's a boy from high school who was visiting me at my window last night. I tried to be quiet, but it looks like we woke you. I'm sorry."

Mother was flabbergasted. "A boy from high school, here to see you? Why so sneaky? Couldn't he come to the front door and meet your father as is expected?"

Donna shrugged her shoulders, "It wasn't like that. It's nothing serious..."

Mother sharply interjected, "He's no good." She paused to weight the effect on Donna. "Isn't that right? The reason he has to be so sneaky and come to your bedroom window at night is because he's no good. He knows that father will not accept him."

Donna tried to explain, "Mom, he's just someone I knew in high school who is a friend, that's all."

But Mother wouldn't hear it. "And what would Fredrick say of this boy from high school coming to meet you at your window late at night? Would he be happy knowing this while he is away at war? People have ways of finding out. All it takes is for someone to write him a letter. He could have easily asked someone to keep an eye on you while he's gone."

Donna said nothing.

"He wouldn't be happy." insisted Mother. "And that's how you have to be thinking. You have to think about your future husband. You have to ask if it's really worth losing the man you love. Your father would be outraged if I were meeting some man at the window late at night just to be friends. Donna, you are a young woman. You're not a child anymore that would believe that a friendship with a boy is harmless and innocent. Now I don't know how you attracted him, but I no longer want him coming here. And if you know what's best, you definitely don't want your father finding out about him.

***

Of course Stan needed all the confidence and reassurance he could get regarding what was currently a sketchy relationship with Donna. And he knew where to get this. The nights that followed his second "Friday night date" with Donna at the window were graced by continuing waxing gibbous phases of the Moon. By Tuesday, the Moon was full. So on each of these nights with the Moon's heavenly glory shining its light on the Earth, below; Stan visited the Berry Bush Forest Preserve to pay nightly pilgrimages to the magickal valley of Donna's spirit mother. On each night, he found himself in the same magickal realm with the moonlight flooding the valley and illuminating the old tree. But the tree never came to life, no matter how much Stan touched or spoke to it. Perhaps the sprites were too busy during this sacred time of the full Moon to open a doorway and let Donna's spirit mother through. But just like before, she was there in spirit. And she seemed to urge Stan to continue visiting Donna; continue making her existence known to Donna which would eventually lead her to the valley.

By Friday night of that week, the Moon had reached the waning gibbous stage meaning that it was beginning to reduce back to a crescent before disappearing from the sky. And there is something else about the Moon in this stage; it rises late in the evening so that by morning it can be seen in western sky. This provides illumination to the ground in the midnight hours and throughout predawn.

By the time Stan drove into Donna's subdivision, the Moon was well into the sky which, again, caused him concern that maybe he would be detected by neighbors or Donna's parents. Stan parked four houses away and softly pushed the driver side door shut before walking across the grass in the parkways. When reaching Donna's house, he was about to walk around the side and into the backyard.

But what was this?

Donna stood at the side of the house in a coat. She smiled when initially seeing Stan and then raised her index finger to her lips.

Stan knew what she was doing. Without saying a word, he led her out onto the sidewalk where they quickly crossed the parkways of the four houses until reaching the car. When finally inside Stan asked, "What are you doing? Where are we going?" He started the car and then idled some distance past Donna's house before driving off.

"My Mother heard us last week." explained Donna. "She doesn't want you coming back."

"Really...? Wow!" exclaimed Stan. He never would have expected Donna to resort to this. "So where do you want to go?" he asked.

"Where do you think?" answered Donna. "I want to see the tree."

And so Stan drove through town that Friday night which was mostly void of motorists and pedestrians. You see, it was after midnight which meant that most of the world had gone to sleep. And by the time they reached the Berry Bush Forest Preserve, there were no cars parked in spots with kids necking. It was probably best that no one was around to take notice of Stan and Donna (who was supposed to be faithful to her Fredrick while he was away at war) enter the woods late at night. Such a thing would surely appear suspicious.

Donna shivered while walking the trail next to Stan. "It's so cold..."

"Well you have a long coat on." pointed Stan.

"I know... but still..."

Stan seized the much-wished-for opportunity to put his arm around Donna's shoulders and pull her close. "There, there... I'll keep you warm." Her long, raven-black hair smelled so good. And funny thing; Donna really didn't mind being close to Stan. She didn't mind the subtle move made on her. It felt good.

Stan rubbed the side of Donna's shoulder in an attempt to provide heat. "We just walk a ways down the path, and we'll be able to see the actual tree." he explained.

"I can't wait." answered Donna.

About seven minutes later, Stan and Donna finally reached the location where it was possible to deviate off the main path. It would only be necessary to do some bushwhacking and climb down the somewhat steep ravine until reaching the valley. For now, from a distance, the old tree could be seen bathing in the moonlight.

"There it is." announced Stan.

"Oh, it's beautiful." exclaimed Donna. "I've never been to the woods at night, and I have to admit that at first I thought you were a little crazy for doing this. But I can see everything down below. You are right. It looks so magickal." There was silence for the next ten seconds before Donna asked, "But how does the tree remind you of me?"

"We would have to get closer to the tree." answered Stan. "You probably don't want to go down there because..."

Donna cut him off. "Oh yes I do! Stan, I want to go down there!" It was almost as-if Donna were suddenly possessed by some unseen force.

"Are you sure?" checked Stan. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely!" affirmed Donna.

And so the two deviated off the main trail and followed a bit of unpleasant bushwhacking, and then somewhat of a steep descent down the ravine. A couple of time Donna almost lost her balance. But that was okay. She was bound and determined to reach the valley which—unbeknown to her—was the magickal valley of her spirit mother. When finally there, she nearly pulled Stan over to the tree.

"Oh, it's so beautiful." declared Donna. They were some twenty feet away and marveled as the branches and the colored leaves of autumn softly glowed in the moonlight. "This tree must be many years old."

"Hundreds." added Stan.

Donna approached the tree until she was close enough to touch it.

"Can you finally see why the tree reminds me of you?" asked Stan.

Donna turned to face Stan. In doing so, she rested her back against the large trunk. She smiled, somewhat mischievously and answered, "You'll have to explain that to me."

"Well..." began Stan while carefully approaching. "It really reminded me of you because it's so beautiful... like you."

Donna could feel herself blushing and hoped that the partial darkness would cover it.

Stan continued, "But now that you are here with it, the tree looks all the more beautiful." Stan was now a foot away from Donna's face. He took a chance, and leaned in for a kiss.

Donna softly moaned a cry. This was not supposed to happen. She never intended to allow Stan to take their friendship to this sort of level. Perhaps this is what Mother meant by insisting that a friendship with a boy could lead to anything. Too bad Donna didn't heed the warning, for Stan continued to kiss her with her back up against the tree. It was un-ladylike in those days for a woman to fight, squirm and resist. Aside from that, Donna was all alone in the forest with him. All she could do was allow Stan to have his way and kiss her more and more. He really liked her; Donna could feel this. It was as-if Stan were in love with Donna.

And then the magick happened. Donna felt deeply rooted in that place with the tree where Stan nearly worshipped and adored her. Donna suddenly felt like a goddess who graced an Earthly mortal with the ability to kiss her lips. On this magickal autumn night of her valley engulfed by the moonlight, she opened herself up and allowed Stan the simple and long-awaited pleasure of kissing her.

The two stayed for nearly three hours just making out against the old tree. As Donna's spirit mother promised, Donna would completely surrender to Stan and belong to him. On that fateful night it finally happened.

"I really need to get home." Donna finally said. "Remember I sneaked out of the window to be with you? I don't want to get in trouble."

"Oh, that's right." acknowledged Stan. "Yes, we better get you home."

Now so much in love with one another, Stan and Donna hiked arm-in-arm back to the car. Not much was said on the ride home. But unlike the last time Stan drove Donna home, the two kissed before Donna exited the vehicle.

"Next week?—Friday?" suggested Stan.

Donna turned and smiled, "I'll be waiting in the same place for you."

"Just after midnight." instructed Stan.

You see, plans needed to be made right then and there. Stan would have never been able to call Donna's house and ask for her. Surely it would have been Mother or Father who answered. And in those days if a boy called for a girl, he had to identify himself and state his intentions. Stan didn't want to alarm Donna's parents of their new relationship.

***

After that fateful night in the valley of Donna's spirit mother, the weather had turned so that it was too cold to go walking in the woods at night. The weekend that followed would have been Halloween—a Saturday. The night before Halloween—which was a Friday—there was a strong wind that brought with it a wintery chill. Would Donna really be waiting for Stan on the side of her house as promised?

"I don't know..." cried out Stan with a sigh. "She's not going to be there. It's too cold." The windows of Stan's car were rolled up and the heat was on. He wore a winter coat and drove through Donna's subdivision. Like the previous times, Stan parked four houses down and observed the usual procedure of softly closing the door and walking on the grass of the parkways to avoid the sound of shoes against the sidewalk. But with the howling wind, who would have heard?

Stan could hardly believe it as he made his way around the side of Donna's house. There, bundled up in a heavy coat, scarf and woman's hat; Donna huddled near the brick to avoid as much wind as possible.

Stan waved Donna over. "Come-on, let's get back to the car. I have heat." he urged. The two ran down the street until reaching the car. And even though Stan was anxious to get in himself, he was sure to be a gentleman and open the door for Donna. Moments later, the two drove through town with the heat on while listening to late night music.

"I don't think you want to go back to the tree." cited Stan.

"It's too cold." confirmed Donna.

"There's not much to do in this town." said Stan. "Everything closes after eleven o'clock. I guess we could park at the Berry Bush Forest Preserve and just hang out. All the kids should be home because it's past curfew."

Just to make sure that his Donna wouldn't start to think that he only went out with her on Friday nights to neck, he instructed Donna, "Hey, go in the glove compartment. I've got something for you."

Donna did as instructed. Inside was a bag from Dog-n-Suds. "Is this for me?" she asked.

"Yes it is." affirmed Stan. "I got us a couple of hot dogs and some fries. I figured it would be nice to have some sort of dinner together. I would have gotten a root beer in a frosty mug, but that would have been hard to drive around with. Instead, I have a couple of bottles of soda in the backseat."

"Oh Stan, that's so nice of you." exclaimed Donna. As the car pulled into the parking lot of Berry Bush Forest Preserve, Donna opened the bag and reached for a couple of French fries. "No wonder the car smelled like food." she commented.

Stan put the transmission in park and turned off the lights. "I suppose we should leave the engine running for heat. I filled the tank before the gas station closed, so we should have plenty of gas. I'll keep an eye on the needle."

Donna and Stan unwrapped their hot dogs. Stan reached in the backseat for the two glass bottles of root beer. "I've got a church key." he announced. Back in those days, a church key was a bottle opener that one conveniently kept on the key ring if ever needing to open a beer or soda. He used this to remove the tops from both bottles.

While the two enjoyed their late night dinner, Stan used the opportunity to bring out into the open a couple of issues with his new relationship with Donna. "So I was thinking." began Stan. "I know we have to keep everything a secret from everyone. I know your parents wouldn't be happy knowing that I'm taking you out late at night. I know that we can't let too many people out here see me with you because anyone might tell Fredrick. I guess we just have to think of clever ways to do things together... you know... like go out on dates and enjoy our time together without anyone seeing? You like being with me, don't you?"

"Of course I do." reassured Donna. "You're a very nice guy, and very interesting. I don't know anyone who would have ever taken me to the middle of the woods late at night and make it seem so beautiful. And it shouldn't be too difficult to go out. We could always plan dates where you meet Barbara and me at the movie theater and stuff. Just make it look like an accident. I trust Barbara. And besides, I think she's onto us. But don't worry. She won't tell Fredrick or anyone."

***

So throughout the late autumn and winter months, Stan and Donna improvised ways of being together to enjoy one another's company. Many Friday and Saturday nights they simply parked at the Berry Bush Forest Preserve (when it wasn't snowing) and sat in the car with the heat running; enjoying a meal of hamburgers, pizza, or hotdogs that had been packed up in the glove compartment. Afterwards, the two would just talk—sometimes for a few hours—followed by some necking that often ended up in the backseat. Of course some nights the two didn't feel like overdoing it with the making out. They simply laid in the backseat, Donna resting against Stan, while listening to late night radio and sometimes dozing off. A couple of times a patrolling officer who spotted the car in the parking lot tapped on the back window and ordered Stan to roll down the window. The officer was only concerned that maybe Stan and Donna were a couple of kids who were out past curfew. When realizing that they were young adults and over the age of eighteen, he was confused as to why they would prefer to sit in a car late at night in the forest preserve.

"Listen, I really wish you wouldn't sit here late at night." urged the officer. "You're not breaking any laws, and I can't make you leave. But it might not be too safe out here late at night."

"We were just getting ready to leave, officer." reassured Stan. And that was the end of the date for that particular night. But then Stan and Donna would return some nights later for some more time together.

As suggested by Donna, there were a few occasions in which Stan "accidentally" encountered her and Barbara at the movie theater on a Friday night. Since Stan knew Donna and Barbara, it wasn't too unreasonable for him to sit with the young women in the movie theater. Stan was a nice guy and he would treat them both to popcorn and soda. And what was so wrong with enjoying a late night meal at the local Dog-n-Suds before everyone went home for the night?

There were a couple of other occasions when Stan "accidentally" encountered Donna and Barbara at a late night coffee house where local jazz musicians performed and beatniks were known to recite poetry in front of the audience. By then, Barbara had received her driver's license and would pick Donna up at her house on Friday and Saturday nights. How long would this arrangement last before Barbara would find a young man who courted her and no longer had time to hang out with Donna and her secret boyfriend?

And speaking of secrets; despite how Stan and Donna tried to keep their relationship a secret, people who knew them eventually figured out that the "accidental" encounters in public weren't so accidental. There was definitely something funny going on between Stan and Donna. And of course, the rumors began to fly throughout town.

***

One Saturday night, in February—Ground Hog's Day—parked at the Berry Bush Forest Preserve, as Donna lay her head on Stan's shoulder in the backseat of the car; the two engaged in a most interesting conversation. Stan and Donna learned that night that they shared a mutual fascination with the dead, and with life beyond the grave—although the two of them might have had slightly different perceptions. Death wasn't so morbid as the rest of the population might have believed. Stan and Donna both believed that death and the world beyond the grave was a new beginning. It was birthing into a new existence, a higher level of existence that transcends the physical world. And maybe it was possible for those who move on to return in a physical sense.

It was Donna who triggered the conversation by initially talking about church. She originally intended on gauging whether or not Stan believed in God, and was serious about his faith. She did, after all, see Stan and his family on many occasions at mass. "...I mean sometimes when I'm praying to Mary or the saints, I can feel their presence. I feel like I can reach out and touch them; reach for their hands. Many times I feel like there is some sort of invisible wall that can easily be penetrated. If you can get past this wall, you can visit Heaven for a short time."

"I think I know what you mean." acknowledged Stan. "Did you ever look at a dead person in a coffin? Did you ever wonder if it is truly the end for that person? What if there were a way to simply touch that dead person and wake them up?"

"Nobody can do that." rejected Donna. "The only person who was ever able to do that was Christ. And it isn't the end for that dead person, either. They simply go to Heaven, provided they lived a good life."

"Well what about doctors in the emergency room who bring a dead patient back to life?" argued Stan. "They've done it plenty of times. And some of those patients swear that they spent a brief moment in Heaven. How do you explain that?"

"I've read about that before." answered Donna. "That's always fascinated me."

Stan continued, "I guess my point is: can a person be called back to their body after being dead for some time?"

"That's a very difficult question." pointed Donna. "As for that person who is brought back to life, maybe their purpose wasn't fulfilled yet."

Stan introduced a new subject to their conversation, "Hey, do you remember that girl in town who was killed in a car crash? I still remember her name, Lisa. This would have been in '59."

"Oh yes, I remember her." answered Donna. "We actually went to her funeral.—friend of the family. It was so sad."

"Well the cemetery where she's buried is actually right in my backyard." continued Stan. "Her grave is right near the fence. I actually watched them lower her into the ground. And then a day or so later I saw her picture in the newspaper. I'm sort of embarrassed to admit, but I guess as a boy that age, I actually thought she was pretty. I felt bad that a girl so pretty had to die. And that's when I got the strange idea of visiting her grave at night. I simply hopped the fence over and sat down near her gravestone to be with her. [ _Stan wouldn't dare confess to his defilement of Lisa's grave._ ] I don't know what possessed me to do it. But I remember wondering if it were possible to bring her back to life—you know, call her back to this world so she could be alive again." At that point, Stan was conveniently re-inventing the course of events from that night in 1959 at the cemetery. Interesting thing: although Stan's intention as a young boy was simply to defile the grave a fresh, young woman; his re-invention of the course of events from that night reflected a subconscious purpose, one that Stan certainly wouldn't have been able to understand as a young boy. So for all practical purposes, Stan wasn't exactly lying to Donna in that moment. Rather, he was reaching a moment of epiphany.

There were several seconds of silence before Donna answered. "I don't think I've ever met someone who did that. So you were so affected by the death of Lisa that you visited her grave at night as a boy?"

"Yes..." admitted Stan.

"That was so nice of you." cited Donna. "I guess that's what makes you a nice guy. And you wanted to bring her back to life?"

"Yes..." further admitted Stan.

"Well maybe you can't bring the dead back to life, but you can talk to the dead." pointed Donna.

"You can?" asked Stan.

"Yes; they listen to you just like the saints, angels and Mary. And in a way, that's what you were doing as a boy. You visited Lisa's grave and told her how sad you felt that she was gone. It probably meant a lot to her that you thought she was pretty."

"I hope so..." commented Stan while remembering the night of Lisa's defilement. As he recalled, he saw in his imagination the young woman screaming out for help, but was unable to make a sound because she was dead. There was someone definitely there with Stan on that night in 1959, and he believed it was the tormented soul of Lisa who had to endure the fantasy rape of her dead body.

Stan confessed some more, "I used to come to these woods, a lot, and think about the dead." With this statement he remembered the morbid game that he played with the doll—unburying it from the ground where it was kept sealed in a metal toolbox. "I guess in a way, these woods are somewhat special to me."

Donna smiled for she knew that she was a part of Stan's "special" woods."

Stan continued "And then I saw the tree out there in the valley that reminded me of you. That valley in the forest is all the more special. It's alive. There's some sort of spirit in that valley.

"Yes, I know what you mean." agreed Donna. "I felt it there on the night that I was there with you."

"I think it wants us to be together." suggested Stan. "I think the spirit is trying to tell us that you and I are meant to be."

Donna momentarily recalled the night that she stood with her back against the tree while feeling like a goddess who had materialized on Earth to grace a mortal the privilege of kissing her. She wondered if this spirit had consumed her in those moments. It was frightening to consider because such an occurrence could very well hint to possession. But it was equally fascinating; so fascinating that she announced, "I want to go back there, Stan."

"I don't think we can." answered Stan. "At least for tonight... at least until spring when the snow melts. They plow the parking lot whenever it snows, but I doubt they plow the trail."

"In the spring can we go back?" nearly begged Donna.

"Yes, of course." reassured Stan. "And when we get there, we should probably do something special; some sort of tradition that would make it officially ours. Whenever we go there, it would forever be considered our place."

Donna cuddled closer to Stan. She couldn't wait to return to the valley.

***

Stan had a very cyclical nature to him. In late summer and throughout autumn he would experience those morbid fetishes which wouldn't subside until around late November. Then, come early spring, he suffered from what modern day psychologists would identify as neurosis. This is simply an unusual frequency of heavy emotions. For Stan these emotions ranged anywhere from sadness to anger to jealousy to an unfounded mistrust of people. In that particular spring of 1965, Stan was in his relationship with Donna. It was his first love, and he wasn't exactly prepared for challenges.

"We've had a lot of melting of snow this past week." said Stan to Donna on a late Saturday night after picking her up under the usual protocol. "And I know you want to visit the valley in the woods."

Donna shrugged her shoulders. "Sure..."

Stan could sense that there was something wrong, something troubling Donna.

"What's wrong?" probed Stan.

"Oh nothing..." answered Donna. Then she sighed.

Stan insisted, "Oh, come-on. I know there is something bothering you."

"I got a letter from Fredrick." finally answered Donna.

"Yeah? What did he say?"

"Well, someone out there must have noticed us together and put two and two together. I don't know who did it, but someone wrote Fredrick a letter and told him that I might be cheating on him with you."

" _What???_ " exclaimed Stan. "Do you have the letter? Can I see it?"

"No, I don't want to show you." answered Donna. "He wrote some personal things in there. But when talking about you and me, he said that he heard a crazy rumor that we were together. He reassured me that he doesn't believe the rumor, but was a bit bothered by it."

It was like glass shattering for Stan. That's the only way to describe what he felt in that moment. Since October—actually September—of last year he had fallen in love with Donna and felt like they were meant to be. Stan truly believed that the feeling was mutual between him and Donna, and that it would only be a matter of time before she forgot about Fredrick. But now she was showing rekindled feelings for Fredrick along with guilt for being unfaithful to him. Aside from that, Donna clearly had more loyalty to Fredrick with her refusal to show Stan the letter. Stan's voice turned low and almost lifeless at that moment. "Gee... I don't know what to say..." He continued driving and made his way to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve.

Now this particular night in 1965 was March 13th. The Moon was a waxing gibbous, and had set below the western horizon by the time Stan and Donna reached the forest preserve. Additionally, the sky was cloudy so that not even starlight could be seen. The woods, obviously, were very dark that night. But that wasn't what caused Donna to be initially resistant to exiting Stan's car. She sat there motionless in the passenger seat after Stan had turned the engine off.

Stan stared at her for a few seconds before asking, "Are we going?"

Donna hesitated. "I don't know if I should."

"Why not?" nearly demanded Stan.

"I feel like you're mad at me." answered Donna.

"Well why would I be mad at you?"

Donna sighed, "I don't know..." Then she opened the passenger door and stepped out.

Before exiting the vehicle, Stan reached into the glove compartment for a flashlight because he knew it would be dark in the woods. He switched it on and shined it at the ground. "We'll need this."

Donna said nothing; just stood there as-if she really didn't want to be there while waiting for Stan.

It was about 40 degrees that night. Throughout much of the week, the temperature had reached considerably above freezing along with a couple of days of sunshine. These conditions resulted in just about all of the snow being melted from the trail and the woods. There were a couple of patches of slush and even some late-night ice. But the trail was mostly walkable that dark night in March.

Unlike the first visit to the forest back in October, Stan didn't put his arm around Donna to keep her warm. And really she didn't want him to at that moment. Donna partly had some negative feelings towards Stan at that moment along with feelings of guilt for being unfaithful to Fredrick.

About halfway into the hike which was guided by the illumination of the flashlight, Stan finally called out, "Donna?"

"What?" She responded with subtle bitterness in her voice.

"Are you mad me?"

"No!" answered Donna.

"Well I'm sorry, but you've never spoken to me like this before. What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" nearly snapped Donna.

Stan finally ordered, "Stop! We are not going anywhere until we solve this."

Reluctantly, Donna stopped walking as ordered.

Stan put both his hands on Donna's shoulders and looked into her eyes—at least as well as he could in the dark. "Now what is wrong? We agreed to come out here once the snow melted, and we both agreed that this the valley is our special place. Do you really want to go down there in this frame of mind?"

Stan couldn't see it in the dark, but tears began to well in Donna's eyes. "I'm sorry, it's just that I have some things to think about—some things to sort out in my mind." she answered.

"Like what?" demanded Stan.

"Well there's Fredrick; remember, my boyfriend who promised to marry me once he came home from the war? I was supposed to be faithful to him?"

"But, Donna, what about us?" argued Stan. "What are we? And don't I deserve some loyalty?"

"Well yes..." answered Donna. "It's just that... well..."

"Go on!" encouraged Stan with a note of anger in his voice.

"I guess, originally, this was like an affair. I was cheating on Fredrick, and I still am."

"Oh, so I'm the bad guy!" concluded Stan. "I'm the guy who you're cheating with or—as you word it—having an affair with. Never mind all the time we've spent together and the feelings we've shared. None of those things matter. You get a letter from Fredrick, and you suddenly forget about us?"

"I'm sorry, Stan..." apologized Donna while starting to crying.

"Well are you sure you still want to go visit the valley?" questioned Stan. "Or would that be cheating on Fredrick?"

Donna was unsure as to why; but despite how controlling and overly-emotional Stan had gotten, she still wanted to visit the valley. It was as-if some unseen force were coaxing her to press onwards to reach the valley. "Yes, I still want to go." she affirmed. "I hope that means something to you."

Without saying a word, Stan resumed walking towards the direction of the valley.

Donna followed his lead and walked beside him. She sniffled and wiped tears from her eyes. Donna wanted so bad to turn around and head back to the car; order that Stan take her home and never come back to see her again. But there was the mysterious force that seemed to have control over her decisions and her persistence to continue walking with Stan to the valley where the old tree stood.

Soon Stan and Donna reached the spot where they could deviate off the main trail and do some unpleasant bushwhacking before hiking down the somewhat steep ravine to the valley below. All the while doing this, Donna resented every second. The bushes and thicket were wet and surely made her coat dirty. Although partly frozen from the late-night temperature, the ground was muddy. And the illumination of Stan's flashlight made it possible to see only three feet in front of them. Still, Donna obeyed the mysterious force which seemed to consume her while following Stan's lead.

Once reaching the valley, the babbling sound of a nearby stream could be heard.

"You hear that?" asked Stan. "You hear that water flowing?"

"Yes..." acknowledged Donna.

"It's coming from over there." he shined the flashlight in the direction of the sound. "Let's find it."

Nearly crazy, Stan briskly walked towards the direction of the stream until he could see it.

Donna stayed behind and watched Stan in disbelief.

"I found it!" he exclaimed. "I found the stream!" Then he ordered, "Come over here and look!"

Reluctantly and very nervously, Donna walked towards the direction of where Stan stood with the flashlight. She stopped a few feet away from him.

"Well come on!" continued to order Stan. "Take a look!" He just about manhandled Donna and guided her in the direction of the bank of the small stream where she shined the flashlight in. "See that?" he asked. "See all that running water?"

"Yes..." answered Donna.

That's from all the melting snow in this forest preserve. That snow had accumulated since November of last year, right around the time when you and I were falling in love."

Donna could hardly believe that Stan used the word love to describe their relationship. She really liked him, but never considered that perhaps she loved Stan. Love was to be reserved for Fredrick.

"Now I know what you're thinking." continued Stan. "Our relationship started as—your choice words—an affair. But it's a new year, and the birth of spring is in the air. Those old feelings of guilt are melting and washing away." He violently shook Donna, "You're going to let go of it all, aren't you? You're going to start your new life!"

Terribly frightened, Donna began to sob. What happened to Stan? Why was he so nearly-psychotic?

"Yes! Good!" Stan congratulated. "Make tears! Let them fall into the stream to wash away with last year's snow." Stan used the back of his hand, and wiped a large amount of tears from Donna's cheek, and then flicked them into the water. "All those feelings for Fredrick from last year; they flow out and wash away into the stream... _our stream_... _the stream belonging to the valley of Donna's spirit mother!_ " Stan shook Donna all the more to make her sob and run more tears into the stream.

Satisfied that the initial stage of the ritual had been completed, Stan next manhandled Donna towards the direction of the old tree. "Come! Let us visit your spirit mother! May she help you remember!" Stan shined the flashlight at the old tree. As they approached, the bark appeared wet and cold.

"Touch her!" ordered Stan. "Reach out with your hand and touch the spirit mother."

Donna hadn't the slightest idea as to why Stan continued to refer to the tree as her spirit mother. But she did as ordered and touched it. The tree felt exactly how it looked, wet and cold.

Stan once again manhandled Donna and spun her around. Then he pushed her against the tree before shouting in Donna's face, "Wake up! Wake up spirit mother! Reveal yourself to me!"

Held against the tree by Stan's strong hands and nowhere to go, Donna began to cry, "Stan, why are you doing this? Why have you turned so crazy?"

Stan paused for a few seconds and stared at Donna. Then he seemed to turn sympathetic. "I'm so sorry..." He hugged Donna and kissed her cheek. "I'm so sorry. I just realized that in the winter you go to sleep with the forest. He pulled back and looked into Donna's face. "Forgive me, oh Donna's spirit mother. Forgive me for my lack of consideration. I didn't mean to wake you before the birth of spring."

Donna was baffled and equally frightened. Had Stan completely lost touch with reality?

"Let me put you back to sleep oh wise and ancient woman." Stan's face moved close to Donna and then kissed her lips. But it was more than a kiss. It was one... two... three... followed by prolonged locking of lips.

Donna turned her face away, "No!" Unlike the first time in the valley, Donna wouldn't grace Stan with the privilege of kissing her.

But Stan was crazy and terribly forceful on that night. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He simply grabbed a fistful from the back of Donna's long and beautiful, raven-black hair so that her face remained where it needed to be. He continued to kiss her so crazy and so passionately.

Donna cried, and the tears ran down her face. But as far as Stan was concerned, the tears now belonged to him. Donna's emotions from last year had flown out and run into the stream to be washed away in Stan's ritual of purification.

Emotionally drained and nearing exhaustion, a new frame of mind overcame Donna. She suddenly felt like the goddess who had once again manifested herself into the physical world. The human mortal who she once graced with the privilege of kissing her was now insane with his devotion. So consumed with jealousy, he fought others who might try to charm and win her favor.

"I love you!" declared Stan every few seconds when pausing between the kissing. "Don't you understand? I love you! And you love me too!" He kissed Donna on the lips to see if the feelings had returned. If Stan didn't know any better, there definitely was something. "Say it!" he demanded. "Say that you love me!"

"I love you Stan!" finally cried out Donna. "It's true; I love you!"

Stan celebrated with more kissing before pulling back and declaring, "In one week it will be the first day of spring. We will return and unify our love! Say you will be here with me! Say it!"

"I will join you Stan!" cried out Donna.

Stan continued to hold Donna against the tree and kissed her all the more. By then a freezing rain began to fall from the sky and through the bare trees. They remained there, kissing for a long time until the freezing rain stopped.

By the time Donna returned that Sunday morning at 4:00, she looked into the mirror. She was wet, dirty, exhausted and emotionally drained.

***

The Moon was full on the Tuesday that followed that very strange and fateful Saturday night in the woods. In the days that followed, Stan remained in his semi-psychotic state. He was relentless in his quest to finally make Donna all his. He already forced Donna to profess her love for him in the woods that Saturday night, but it wasn't enough. Stan needed more. Even if he were able to call Donna on the telephone, or go to her house to hear her say those words again; it wouldn't satisfy what Stan required as true love and loyalty to him. And the fact that Stan couldn't call Donna on the phone or go to her house didn't help matters. It fueled Stan's desperation, jealousy and anger. How dare Donna's mother and father deem Stan unworthy to be in love with their daughter?

And all day Tuesday, Stan remained entranced while at work in a plan as to how he would finally seal the love and devotion between him and Donna.

"Hey, are you okay today???" griped the owner of the Texaco gas station to Stan who noticed that his employee just wasn't "with it".

"Yeah, I'm alright."

"Well then what is taking so long with these oil changes?" asked the owner.

"Sorry, I just didn't sleep very well last night." explained Stan.

"Well make sure you get some sleep before coming into work!" scolded the owner while walking away.

Stan had only a couple of more hours to go before quitting time. From there he could stop at Mr. Green's dime store on the ride home for what he needed. From what Stan remembered there were a couple of them behind the counter for sale when he used to work there. Surely they hadn't been sold.

And what was this item that Stan needed?

At quarter after five that Tuesday afternoon, Stan walked through the front door of Mr. Green's dime store. It was Mr. Green who worked behind the cash register.

"Well hi, Stan!" greeted Mr. Green. "Nice to see you. What brings you here? You're not looking for your old job back, are you?"

"No sir." answered Stan. "I just wanted to buy something that I hope you still have. I remember you used to have them."

"And what might that be?" asked Mr. Green.

By now, Stan was at the front counter and studied the merchandise wall behind Mr. Green. "There it is." he excitedly announced. "It looks like you still have one left, the double-edged dagger with sheath."

Mr. Green turned around and reached for the dagger off the merchandise wall which was stored in a soft leather sheath. He removed the blade--five inches in length--from the sheath and set both objects on the counter before Stan. "This? You want to buy this?"

Stan nervously picked up the dagger and gently tested the blade with his finger. As expected, it was razor sharp. "Oh, yes, I definitely want to buy this."

For some reason, Mr. Green did not have a good feeling about selling the double edged dagger to Stan. He remembered Stan, and recalled that he was a bit odd. What in the world did he have in mind to do with a razor sharp dagger? "You don't mind if I ask what you need that for, do you?"

Stan nervously swallowed before answering. "I just want to use it at work... you know, for cutting fan belts and stuff."

"Well you could use a regular pocket knife for something like that." suggested Mr. Green. "A dagger like this is often used for hunting and fishing."

"It's funny you mention that." began Stan. "I made some friends at the gas station who want to go on a hunting and fishing trip. I'd like to take this dagger with me."

"A hunting and fishing trip?" repeated Mr. Green. "Where will this be?"

"We haven't really decided yet." answered Stan.

At that point there wasn't anything that Mr. Green could do. Stan was a customer at the dime store to make a legitimate purchase for an item that was clearly for sale. Reluctantly, Mr. Green entered the sales price and tax into the cash register as Stan reached into his wallet for money. Mr. Green wished he could have denied Stan the purchase of that dagger, for he knew it would be used for a not-so-good purpose.

And what did he do with the razor-sharp, double-edged dagger? What could it have possibly been used for when it came to winning the true love and loyalty from Donna?

Late Saturday night of that week, which just so happened to be Spring Equinox, with the Moon in a waning gibbous stage--its light shining from the sky to provide plenty of illumination to the ground below; Stan drove through Donna's subdivision and parked four houses down to observe the usual protocol when picking Donna up.

As for Donna, she was in a most unusual frame of mind. You see, she really didn't want to be with Stan out of fear of what had happened the previous Saturday. But in Stan's moment of apparent psychosis, he declared that they would return the following week which would be the first day of spring. There, the two would continue whatever had been started on that dark night in the forest to "unify their love". Donna was forced to promise that she would return. And to avoid any disturbance at home which would surely alarm Mother and Father to what had been happening in recent months, Donna had no choice but to bundle up, climb out her bedroom window and wait for Stan on the side of the house.

But there was even more to Donna's peculiar frame of mind. Since the episode of the previous Saturday night, Donna had been unable to pick up the recent letter from her beloved Fredrick and read it. She felt an overwhelming amount of shame and guilt for doing so. She nearly wished to tear the letter into shreds and throw it into the wastepaper basket. And whenever attempting to write a letter in return--a letter that would reassure Fredrick that the rumor of her and Stan to be untrue--Donna could not bring herself to do it. As the days passed, she realized that the more she waited, the more it would have appeared that there truly was something going on between Donna and Stan.

She stood there on the side of the house and under a moonlit sky. Soon Stan appeared and waved her on.

Reluctantly she followed Stan back to his car and rode off with him. It was the first the two had spoken to each other since the strange experience in the forest.

"So how was your week?" asked Stan.

"It was fine." answered Donna. "And you?"

"I've been thinking about you all week." answered Stan.

This caused Donna's stomach to nearly turn. "So are we still returning to the valley in the woods by the old tree?" she asked.

"Of course!" affirmed Stan. "It's the perfect night to bring closure and finally unify our love."

"And just what did you have in mind?" nervously asked Donna.

"Trust me..." reassured Stan. "Everything is going to be alright. I love you, and what I have planned is special."

Donna said nothing in return.

"What about you?" asked Stan. "Don't you love me?"

"Yes, I love you." affirmed Donna.

"What about Fredrick?" probed Stan. "Have you received any more letters from Fredrick? Is he still asking about us?"

"No, I haven't received anything from him." answered Donna.

"Well did you write him back?" further probed Stan.

Donna sighed, "Stan, I actually tore up his letter and threw it into the wastepaper basket. [ _She lied--very beside Donna's nature._ ] You are right, it's time to let go of him and accept what you and I have become."

"And what's that?" encouraged Stan.

"Lovers..." simply answered Donna. She hated saying this, but there wasn't much Donna could do or argue when in the presence of Stan.

Soon, Stan and Donna reached the lot of Berry Bush Forest Preserve. Stan parked his car, turned off the engine and exited. While Donna stepped out of the vehicle and had her back turned, Stan reached under the driver seat for the unsheathed double-edged dagger, and tucked it under the sleeve of his coat. Then he walked towards the direction of the trail

Donna followed Stan's lead. Not a word was spoken as the two pressed onwards.

The entire forest that night was illuminated by the Moon which shined through the skeletal trees that were still bare of any leaves. Eventually Stan and Donna made it to the point where they could deviate off the trail and work their way to the valley below.

Once touching the bottom, Stan immediately head towards the small stream and encouraged Donna to follow. "Come, let us see the flowing stream which continues to wash away the life and memories of last year."

But what was this? It had to be a hallucination, or an illusion brought on by--perhaps--the moonlight. What flowed in that stream was no longer the rain and melted snow from winter, but blood. Yes, the stream was now blood red!

"Well would you look at that." commented Stan.

Donna gasped. "Blood?"

"Yes! Blood!" answered Stan. "It's _your_ blood that now flows through this stream. Just like your thoughts and feelings from last October--your tears--that were carried away the last time we were here, the life you lived before the birth of spring is also being washed away. Very interesting!"

Donna suddenly felt squeamish. She imagined her blood flowing out of a gaping wound and being sucked out via the running stream. The squeamishness was soon accompanied by a feeling of needing to pass out.

But Stan wasn't the least bit concerned for Donna. He simply announced, "And now let's pay your spirit mother a visit. Let's see if she's awoken in this birth of spring..." He continued by shouting, " _AWOKEN to observe her Earthly daughter join with me in our unification of love!_ " Stan manhandled weak and squeamish Donna over to the old tree and then pushed her back against the trunk. There hadn't been any rain in the past couple of days, so the trunk for the most part was dry. It was, however, cold being that the outside temperature was about fifty degrees.

About a foot from her face, Stan looked into Donna's eyes.

Donna looked away and observed the surrounding forest. Skeletal trees bathed by the moonlight; the valley yet to have turned green; a nearby stream of flowing blood; it was all nothing short of a hellish realm that would exist in an evening's series of nightmares that the subconscious mind would choose to forget before awakening.

With his right hand Stan raised Donna's left above her head and then held it against the tree trunk. It wasn't much of a fight because Donna was very weak in that moment. With his other hand, Stan grasped a fistful of hair from the back of Donna's head and guided her lips back to his. Stan lay three kisses to her lips and then announced, "And now, oh Earthly daughter of her spirit mother--the spirit mother who resides in this magickal valley--we open our flesh and draw the blood of exchange, the exchange that will forever unite us as one."

Donna felt a sharp sting on the palm of her left hand. Stan was using something--a blade of some sort--to cut her hand open. Unbeknown to Donna, it was the double-edged dagger wedged between Stan and Donna's palm. She screamed out of fright and then pleaded, "What are you doing??? Please stop!!!"

But Stan wouldn't hear the pleas. Satisfied that he had sliced open both his and her palms with the dagger, he removed his right hand from the handle and left the blade in place of both wounds so that by simply squeezing Donna's hand it would slice open more tissue to draw more blood. Stan's other hand resumed grasping a fistful of Donna's hair, and guided her lips back to his. He kissed her lovingly with all of the desire in his heart.

So weak, all that Donna could do was close her eyes and not resist Stan's kisses. And then the feeling of being consumed by an external spirit returned. Donna was no longer Donna. She was the goddess who returned to Earth to be with her most devotee who drew the blood of exchange to be eternally unified in love. The sweet and warm blood ran down her arm and under her Earthly garments. And then the Earthly mortal who had been graced not once, twice, but three times to kiss her; had finally lowered her bleeding palm. The double-edged dagger remained wedged into both wounds.

Our unified blood spills onto the ground of this sacred valley. May it bring life and renewal to the spirit mother... Donna's spirit mother... And now my spirit mother, too, as it is my blood unified with your Earthly daughter which runs into the ground at the birth of spring.

Stan looked up at the sky and could see the Moon and visible stars shining through the skeletal trees. It was confirmation and acceptance from the spirit world of Stan and Donna's unification. He looked over to Donna and announced, "And now my sister, let us depart from this place as united in love."

***

Although Donna received a nasty cut to the palm of her hand, she actually managed to hide it so that it was never seen by Mother and Father. They never saw the wide, gaping, open wound that Donna feared would become badly infected. Through time it managed to heal so that by the middle of spring it was simply a line on her hand that really wasn't that recognizable.

As for Donna and Stan, the relationship between them was a bit turbulent for a while. I mean let's face it, Stan had been abusive of Donna; took her out into the woods, forced her to proclaim that she loved him, and then gave her a serious cut to her hand with a dagger. Feeling she had no choice in the matter--forced into this so-called loving relationship with Stan--there was some lingering bitterness and resentment in the air throughout the spring months. Then, as the cut on her hand healed into a barely recognizable scar, the loving relationship resumed between the two of them. Donna actually strongly desired to be with Stan and sought of ways to be with him on other nights of the week in addition to Friday and Saturday.

In that renewed phase of their relationship, Donna would sneak out the window on--say-- a Wednesday night so that she and Stan could venture to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve to simply be with the tree that was responsible for causing the two to fall in love. Stan would bring a blanket and some food in a picnic basket for a romantic late night dinner. By then there were plenty of leaves on the trees throughout Berry Bush Forest Preserve. On moonlit nights, the magickal valley of Donna's spirit mother was absolutely beautiful. And the spirit in the tree was definitely present as her two children were very much in love with each other. Donna and Stan would just sit there while talking, cuddling and making out. In fact, these days were probably the happiest days of Stan and Donna's life.

But then came a fateful day in late July when Donna's beloved Frederick had received an injury in battle to his right leg. It had been blown off by a land mine. Fredrick had written to Donna, informing her of the injury and that he would soon be coming home.

Much had changed in recent months pertaining to the level of relationship between Donna and Stan. Donna initially didn't tell Stan about Fredrick's misfortune because her feelings were much stronger, then, in comparison to how they were in the previous year. That spring ritual obviously caused some serious changes for Donna. Still, way in the back of her mind, she experienced an internal conflict with Frederick; and realized that he would be coming home soon. Donna would be obligated to be with him in this time of need, and eventually marry him.

Donna was at a loss of what to do. This internal conflict went on for over a week until one night she finally mentioned Fredrick's misfortune to Stan. She was initially fearful in doing this, recalling the way Stan reacted earlier in the spring when mentioning that Fredrick had written her and inquired about the rumor of her and Stan.

But it was no longer spring which meant that Stan wasn't so crazy with his episodes of neurosis. He seemed understanding of Donna's circumstance, and then calmly suggested, "You need to break away from those things that have been holding you back from become the true Donna; the Donna that you truly want to be in your heart. And I think I have the perfect solution.

"And what would that be?" asked Donna.

It was this very moment when Stan's annual morbid fetishes began to manifest. They inspired the plans for a morbid ritual that he and Donna could do in the woods that would finally help her break free of those things that trapped her. And the more he spoke of this ritual, the more his selfish desires fueled those morbid fetishes.

He said to Donna, "I know this might sound crazy. But what we can do is dig a hole right near the tree, deep enough to bury a large, wooden box. I'll do that; you don't have to worry about coming out here and doing hard work. Now this wooden box; we will make it large enough so that you can fit in. It'll be like a coffin. In fact, it will be your coffin."

Donna's face contorted and made a queer expression. She was beginning to dislike the sound of Stan's idea.

"Trust me." Insisted Stan. "Now you won't be dead when you climb into the box below the ground. You'll only pretend to be dead. And I'll bury you until the hole is filled up. Then, as soon as I'm finished, I'll dig you up again. Like I said before, you'll pretend to be dead until I open the box—your coffin—to make love to you. For all practical purposes, the Donna who once was will be dead. But the new Donna--the true Donna who you wish to be in our heart—will come to life after I kiss you."

Donna immediately rejected the game. It was morbid, for one. There was also the possibility that something could go terribly wrong. What if she panicked underground, and died before Stan reached her?

Stan insisted, "Really, Donna, it won't be that bad. Here... I want to show you something. Lay down on the blanket." This was the blanket that the two had been sitting on in the forest during their late night picnic.

Reluctantly, Donna lay down on the blanket. She was a bit uneasy with whatever mysterious thing Stan had in mind.

Stan took hold of the edge of the blanket. "Now just close your eyes.... and put your hand on your chest."

Donna immediately answered, "Oh, Stan, I don't want to do that. Nor do I want to play your morbid game!"

"Just try it!" insisted Stan. "Can't you just be open-minded and give it a try?"

Reluctantly, Donna closed her eyes and put her hands on her chest as-if she were lying in a coffin.

When Stan saw her finally laying in the right position, he explained, "Now all I'm going to do is fold this blanket over you. It's going to be over your face. And I want you to imagine that you are covered up in a box."

Kneeling on the ground, Stan folded the blanket over Donna's entire body, including her face. Then he announced, "See, you're covered up. Okay...? You can still breathe in there. You've got this blanket over your face, but there is still air in there, right?"

Donna pointed, "Yes, but there are holes in the blanket that allow air to get through."

Stan answered, "Yes, I know. But why don't we do this. Why don't we try taking it to progressive steps? Next time we can put you in a cardboard box for about twenty minutes or so. And then we take the lid off and see that everything is okay."

"Oh, Stan, that's a silly idea" argued Donna. "Why is this so important to you?"

Stan explained, "Donna, I really want to do this with you because it will be a symbolic act that will put your life behind you so that you can start a new life with me. This will be a symbolic act which involves burying you in the Earth that's near the tree here. We know this tree has a spirit in it. We know that this tree is responsible for bringing us together. You agree with that, don't you?"

Donna nodded her head, "Yes..." By then she had the blanket pulled away from her face.

"So can we do that next time we are together?" nearly begged Stan. "Could we bring a cardboard box here to the woods; a box that is big enough for you to get inside of? I could probably get one at the gas station. We receive a lot of supplies throughout the week that are shipped in large boxes. I could just say I need one to pack something up at home. I will, instead, bring it to the woods so that next time we are together, we can resume our exercise. You will get into the box for about twenty minutes and then come out. Does that sound okay with you?"

Donna agreed. "Okay, fine, we will do that. But I don't really understand how going in a box for 20 minutes is going to make it the same as being buried in a wooden coffin underground."

Trust me reassured Stan. We will do these progressive steps so that when the time comes for you to be finally buried in the ground, you will be so used to it that you will realize that you could be in there for an hour or two. And you'll be relaxed and everything will be okay. Can you just trust me?"

Donna paused for a few seconds. She sighed and said, "Okay, fine. I will trust you. Under one condition."

"What's that?" asked Stan, covering his sudden annoyance with Donna attempting to negotiate.

"You have to promise me that at any time I feel uncomfortable and say stop, you will listen to me. Whether you're putting the cover on or filling the hole with dirt, it doesn't matter. You have to stop when I say."

It seemed fair to Stan. "Okay, I agree."

This agreement took place on a Wednesday night. Their next date was to be on that Friday of that week.

***

The following morning, Stan's father inquired Stan as to where he was going at night. This was while the two sat at the breakfast table before heading off to work. Father asked, "You know, I notice you've been going out late at night and then you come home at the wee hours of the morning. Where have you been going? More important, is this affecting your job? How are you working this?"

Stan reassured his father, "Oh no everything is fine with my job. I'm not tired or anything. As for where I am going; I really haven't said anything about it, but I have a girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" Father repeated. "How come you never said anything about this to us before?"

"Well, I'm kind of keeping it a secret?" answered Stan.

"Secret?" probed Father. "Why are you keeping it a secret? Is she married?"

"No, she isn't married." reassured Stan. "But she has a boyfriend."

"And he doesn't know about it?"

Stan explained, "'Well, I'm kind of ashamed to admit, but her boyfriend is away at war. We're not too serious about this relationship at this point. But I really like her, and I like being around her. We just go out at night and hang out."

Father felt that maybe his young adult son could use some guidance. He began by asking an insightful question, "Well Stan, what are you going to do when her boyfriend comes back from war? And did she make an obligation to him to be faithful while he is away? Might you be presenting her with a conflict of interest?"

"She did." answered Stan. "She did promise him to be faithful. But Dad; as time goes on, it seems like she's forgetting about him more and more. It seems like she's becoming more and more interested in me. If I didn't know any better, I think we are falling in love."

Father halfheartedly chuckled, "In love? I thought you said it wasn't too serious a moment ago. And I wouldn't be too quick to let your feelings get the best of you. Plenty could change once her boyfriend comes. Those old feelings could suddenly return. But if you think the two of you might be in love, you might want to lock this deal by marrying her. I bet you never considered that." Father hoped to use the suggestion as a way to re-guide Stan away from what appeared to be misleading feelings. Stan was so young, and this was surely "puppy love" for him. And from what Father could determine, the relationship wouldn't have been so serious as to consider marriage.

But Stan surprised Father with his answer. "I guess... Sometimes I think about it—marriage. I just don't know if I'd be able to go about it properly. I mean you make a good point. Why wouldn't I want to tie the knot with her and get married? But how do I go about doing this?

Well if Stan were such a man to make a serious life decision like this, maybe it was time for him to find a new job that could earn him more money. Father nodded his head in acknowledgement, "Well Stan, you've been working at this gas station and it's time for you to have a more substantial income... Have more of a man's job so to speak. I have a friend who is a one of those higher-up managers at an auto parts manufacturing plant. I think maybe I can get you a job there. I can talk to him; he can pull some strings, and maybe get you on the assembly line making some really good money. It might be piece work, but it usually ends up paying more than at a job like—say—the gas station. Then you could have a better income, and you'd be in a better position to ask her father in marriage. That is the proper way to go about it. You do know that, don't you?"

Stan nodded in affirmation.

Still in disbelief that his son was truly ready to take on a manlier role in life, Father continued with his test, "So what do you say I talk to my friend and see if he has any openings there; see if he can get you a job making more money. Then you could ask this girl's father for her hand in marriage, and eventually propose to her. She might have to think about it because she did make an obligation to be faithful to this young man who is away at war. And while we're on the subject, you were supposed to be there as well—away at war. But you didn't make it in boot camp, remember?

Stan looked down at the table, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. "I understand all of that. But, Dad, I really love this girl and feel that we are meant to be."

Father answered, "Very well then. I will talk to my friend, and we'll see if can get things going for you. So what's her name?"

"Donna..." answered Stan.

"Is she pretty?"

"Oh yes, very pretty! You know Lilly Munster from the TV show, The Munsters?"

Father laughed, "Get out of here! Are you serious?"

"Yes she kind of looks like her, but much younger."

***

Just as Stan promised, he carried—actually dragged –a large cardboard box out into the woods beforehand, during daylight. No one saw him dragging the box out there. There was no problem bringing it to the old tree in the magickal valley of Donna's spirit mother.

Late Friday night of that week, he and Donna ventured out to where the cardboard box waited for them. By that time, Stan had a good idea as to where he was going to dig Donna's grave. The box sat just like it would as if it were some feet below with Donna inside. Once the two reached it, Stan asked, "So are you ready? This should be pretty easy."

Donna shrugged her shoulders, "Sure..." She opened up the lid and looked inside. The large cardboard box was about five feet long and three feet deep. There was plenty of room for Donna to get inside. And it was just as Stan's morbid fantasy would dictate; the box was shaped like a coffin.

Donna lay down, inside.

"Very good." congratulated Stan. Then he directed; "Now I want you to close your eyes and rest your folded hands on your chest like you are dead."

Initially, Donna wasn't comfortable with pretending to be dead inside of a box. But she did as Stan directed.

Stan put something on her chest; right on top of her folded hands.

Donna opened her eyes and looked down towards the area. It was a bouquet of flowers.

"Oh Stan!" exclaimed Donna. "I don't know if I like this game. You make it seem so real, like I were dead.

"Oh, but Donna..." insisted Stan. "We have to play it this way. We have to make it seem like you are really dead. You see, this life that you currently have with Fredrick, and the control that your parents have over you has to end. The Donna who has those obligations put on her has to die. That is why we are acting out you being dead. So just relax, close your eyes and pretend like you are dead. I have flowers put on you and I'm going to close the lid.

Donna said nothing. She simply closed her eyes and lay still while listening as Stan put the lid over the box. Of course she could breathe inside of the box. And she listened outside for Stan's voice.

"We are going to do this for twenty minutes." reminded Stan. "At the end of the twenty minutes, I'll open the lid up and we will see how you are. And remember, you are not really buried. So if you start to panic or can't breathe, just sit up in the box. Take the lid off. It's light."

There was no answer from inside the box.

"Donna?" called out Stan.

Still no answer.

In a sudden panic, Stan lifted the lid. "Donna, are you okay?"

Donna opened her eyes, "Yes Stan, I'm being dead, remember?"

"Okay, you scared me for a second."

Donna smiled, "Are you sure you still want to do this?"

"Of course I still want to this. I just wasn't expecting you to suddenly be able to play dead so well." Stan closed the lid, looked at his watch and then sat on the ground with his back against the cardboard box. He sat there for five minutes... ten minutes... It was really peaceful out there in the woods. Crickets were chirping. A couple of owls hooted. At one point there was some rustling off in the distance; probably a raccoon or a fox. At the end of the twenty minutes, he opened the lid and looked at Donna who lay still with eyes closed and folded hands on chest with flowers laid across. Stan didn't say anything. He simply kissed her lips.

Donna opened her eyes and playfully announced, "I'm back from the dead."

It was a quite a thrilling moments for Stan. What made it so enjoyable was the fact that Donna seemed to know how to play the part well. She could lay there in the coffin like a real corpse. And when he kissed her sweet lips, Donna came back to life, just as in Stan's most morbid fantasies.

***

Donna wasn't able to get out of the house for about a week after her cardboard box adventure with Stan. On late Wednesday night of the following week, Stan went to her house like he usually did, but didn't see Donna standing on the side of the building. He concluded that there was a problem. Maybe Donna's parents were onto her. In fear of this speculation, Stan didn't dare go to her bedroom window and knock.

It's a good thing he didn't! There actually was a problem that Wednesday night.

No, her parents weren't onto her. Rather, Donna's father was having difficulty sleeping. He walked about the house and watched TV throughout the night. Donna felt it wouldn't be a good idea to sneak out the window with Father up and about. And like mentioned before, Stan was never able to call Donna on the phone or come to her door to see how things were. The two would have to be patient and try again in a couple of nights.

Stan returned on Friday—exactly one week after the cardboard adventure. On this night, Donna stood at the side of her house, waiting for Stan to meet her. Stan confirmed from Donna that there was, in fact, a problem. He was okay with this, of course. And as Stan would soon inform Donna, this awkward and inconvenient phase of their relationship would soon end.

On the ride to the Berry Bush Forest Preserve, Stan excitedly explained to Donna about the job interview that he had at the auto parts manufacturing plant. Father followed through with his promise and landed an interview for his son. "It looks really good for me." he described. "They seemed to like me, and my Dad knows the manager who is a higher-up. My Dad's friend is pulling some strings, and he's going to get me hired. Donna, I'll be able to move out and get a place of my own. We will be able to live together. Maybe we could get married."

Donna was a bit uncomfortable with the sudden mention of moving in with Stan and getting married. "Oh, Stan; I wouldn't rush into things so quickly. And I would prefer to have a proper Catholic wedding. My parents would expect it of me."

Stan argued, "But Donna, don't you remember; the whole point of this act of your symbolic death is so that you can leave your life behind. You will no longer have an obligation to have a good and proper Catholic wedding. And anytime you are ready to live with me—I suggest you do that as soon as possible—the place will be ready for you."

Donna remained silent. She wasn't sure what gave Stan the notion that she would leave her family behind. As for a good and proper Catholic wedding, Donna really wanted this.

Stan sensed that Donna wasn't fully receptive to the idea just yet. "Well if anything, at least I will have my own place. And we don't have to do it all at once. You don't have to hurry up and move in with me once I get my own place. You can start off by visiting me on a regular basis, and see if you like it."

Stan pulled into the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. It was a beautiful night, early August. Long past curfew; any kids who would have been there necking had gone home for the evening. All alone, Stan and Donna exited the vehicle, proceeded to walk towards the main trail. They continued until reaching the place where they could deviate off the main trail, do some bush waking, and hike their way down the steep ravine to the magickal valley of Donna's spirit mother.

On this particular night, Stan had a surprise for Donna. Last time there was a cardboard box that waited for this. This time, Stan had assembled an actual wooden box. It was a makeshift, nothing perfect. It was made of plywood with some two by fours hammered together with nails. The box was really nothing spectacular, but it did the job. It was about the same size and shape of a coffin, and would ultimately be the wooden box that Donna would be buried in. Just like the cardboard box, the wooden version was large enough to accommodate her.

Stan and Donna held hands while walking up to it. Stan looked over and declared, "This is your coffin. This is where you will be laid to rest when we finally put you in the ground. Do you want to try it out?"

Surprisingly, Donna didn't hesitate. "Sure..."

Stan lifted the plywood lid off the box. Keep in mind that there wasn't anything fancy; the lid didn't include hinges. It was simply a sheet of plywood that was cut to fit over the top, to be nailed shut before burying Donna in the ground. As for nails; there hadn't been an agreement, just yet, as to whether or not he should nail the lid shut; or if Stan should leave the lid un-nailed so that he could get to Donna faster if in the event that something went wrong during the burial. But then Stan theorized that maybe it would be better to nail the wooden box shut to prevent any shifting during the burial which could potentially cause tons of Earth to crush Donna to death. A secure lid could save her life. Stan hadn't explained these things to Donna just yet. For now he simply wanted her to try out the coffin like in the previous cardboard box exercise.

"Are you ready?" Stan asked.

Donna said nothing; simply climbed into the box, lay down and closed her eyes with hands resting on her chest.

"Very good." congratulated Stan. You are getting good at this. And just like last time, I will lay a bouquet of flowers on your chest." After doing so, he stood back and looked in the wooden box. Donna certainly appeared dead.

"Okay, I'm going to put the lid on." Stan announced. "This time we are going to increase the time to 45 minutes. Do you think you can handle being in the box for 45 minutes?"

There was no answer.

"Donna?"

Still no answer.

Stan checked Donna's face which was still warm. He placed his finger underneath her nose in which air could be felt; confirmation that she was still breathing. "Okay, you're just doing a really good job at playing dead. Being that you are not saying anything, I'm just going to assume that you will be okay staying in there for 45 minutes. And just like we agreed before, if there is a problem—feel like you are panicking or running out of air—simply push the lid off. It's light enough. It won't be a problem. This is all just training and conditioning for the real thing."

Stan laid the lid over the wooden box and looked at the hands on his watch. By then it was ten minutes after one o'clock in the morning. He would wait for 45 minutes.

And so Stan sat on the ground with back resting against the box, just listening to the surrounding forest; crickets chirping and animals rustling around. It was very peaceful. In these moments, Stan let his mind wander off to the night when he would finally have a hole dug in the ground and a coffin lowered in with Donna sealed shut beneath the Earth. Stan was so fortunate to have Donna to play this game with. She knew how to play dead so well, and could continue looking beautiful. Finally Stan's fantasy of unearthing a beautiful woman and brining her back from the dead could be experienced. Stan had been waiting for a moment like this for most of his life. Consider that when Lisa had been killed in that car crash; Stan's morbid fantasies had been so overwhelming, that he actually hopped the fence over to the cemetery late at night, to defile her grave in a moment of fantasy love making.

This time, however, with Donna; it would be real. Again, Donna would play dead so very well. And Stan would physically make love to her as she lay in the coffin which had been unearthed. And in that moment, she would come back to life and belong to Stan one hundred percent, forever.

Stan waited for about twenty minutes while sitting against the wooden box. From what he could determine, there didn't appear to be any problems for Donna. But then Stan actually began to worry. He worried that maybe Donna might have begun suffocating while falling asleep in the dark, wooden box. She wouldn't have been aware of what was happening and might have died in that box. Stan was so close to actually lifting the lid off that box to see if she was okay. But then something—maybe Donna's spirit mother—urged Stan to wait; wait out the entire 45 minutes before lifting the lid. Part of the conditioning, after all, was for Stan to learn how to relax and not worry; just let everything happen.

Fortunately, Stan brought with him a pack of cigarettes. He walked over to the running stream that once had Donna's blood flowing through it. He lit up a cigarette, took a few drags and relaxed. He stood there for some twenty minutes, and actually smoked a couple of cigarettes. When smoked down to the filters, Stan merely flicked them into the fresh running water stream. (Nice!)

After smoking his last cigarette, Stan returned to the wooden box where he just stared at it in deep contemplation. It was then that his morbid fetishes began to get control of his worries. What if Donna really were dead? How would he react? Of course he would be devastated, but then he could live out the ultimate thrill of making love to real, live (actually dead) female corpse. He might even pass out from excitement overload; perhaps die of heart attack to join his precious Donna in the afterlife. It would be the ultimate ending to a happy love story.

Stan could no longer control himself. With one minute remaining he figured Donna had been laying in that box long enough. Donna wouldn't have known the difference anyway if it were a minute early—that is if she were still alive. He lifted the lid and looked inside. Donna lay still and lifeless with eyes closed and hands resting on her chest. She hadn't moved from that position since Stan saw her last. Could she... could she possibly have been dead?

With hands trembling and a mixture of emotions that ranged from horror, sadness, intrigue and sexual excitation; Stan felt Donna's cheek.

It was warm to the touch.

But what if the warmth merely remained from the several moments after her heart stopped beating? Still unsure, Stan place his finger under Donna's nose.

Air moved in and out. Donna was still alive!

Morbid fetishes along with the thrill of fantasy that nearly came true overcame Stan. He nearly leapt into the wooden box on top of his beloved Donna.

Donna screamed in the darkness and then giggled as Stan kissed her.

"This probably has to be the most exciting thing I've ever done!" declared Stan while momentarily pulling away from the kiss.

And Donna had to admit, it was equally exciting for her. It was like something straight of out Sleeping Beauty; she lay in eternal sleep before her handsome prince kissed her back to life.

***

This just so happened to be the weekend when Fredrick would finally come home from the war. And as you surely know by now, Fredrick was being honorably discharged because of his crippling injury. As mentioned before, his right leg had been blown off by a land mine.

So on a Saturday morning in August he was escorted through town by a parade of police cars that trailed behind an ambulance. There were flags hung throughout town as well as banners that welcomed Fredrick home. Keep in mind that this was the early to mid 60s. Hippies and Vietnam War protesters weren't so prevalent at that time just yet, so Fredrick did get somewhat of a proper small town homecoming.

Donna and her parents waited in the front of Fredrick's house with the rest of Fredrick's family as they watched the small parade lead into the drive. And like mentioned before, it was an ambulance that first pulled into his driveway with Fredrick in the back.

Now just as Stan's father had predicted, Donna's old feelings for Fredrick would quickly resurface. Upon initially seeing him being wheeled out of the ambulance, her heart was back to where it was a year ago before Fredrick left for the war. She was so happy to see him. She started to cry out of joy from finally being reunited as well as sadness due to his condition.

It was Fredrick's mother and father, of course, who greeted their son first. "Welcome home son." said Father with tears in his eyes and hugging him. The remainder of his family rushed in to greet and welcome him as well. Then, finally, Donna had her turn. She was being proper and observed the fact that family had to come first. This is why she saw to it that she was last. After all, for the time being, Donna was simply a girlfriend.

Donna approached the wheelchair; hugged and kissed him. "I'm so glad that you returned."

Immediately, Mother and Father wheeled Fredrick into the house as the paramedics proceeded to unload medical supplies from the ambulance. Fredrick was brought into the family room where Donna would finally have a better chance to talk with him some more.

But not much longer after Fredrick had been wheeled into the house, the paramedics entered with the medical supplies—IV bags, boxes of medicines, bandages, and the likes. There was plenty of pain medication along with morphine to be administered intravenously. This was one of the purposes of the IV. Fredrick was in so much pain, that he required regular doses of morphine. And he was on plenty of it at the moment.

"So did you miss me?" asked Fredrick to Donna as the paramedic set up the nearby IV.

"Of course I missed you. I missed you very much."

But then Fredrick was suddenly not the kind, young gentleman that Donna remembered. He nearly snapped, "Well then why the hell did you stop writing me?"

Donna was taken aback. Deep down inside, she knew what he meant. The letters from her had gotten far and few between in frequency in recent months. But she never thought that Stan would go so far as to point this out when reuniting. It was, of course, the conflict of interest that Donna had with Stan. And this very moment was suddenly a very confusing moment for her. Donna was in love with Stan, but now Fredrick had come home and her old feelings for him had resurfaced. Those feelings soon included guilt for being unfaithful to Fredrick while he was away at war.

Now Fredrick was beginning to ask questions. He wanted an explanation; wanted to know if there was some correlation between the rumor of Donna and Stan and her sudden reduction in frequency of letters. "Go ahead!" nearly demanded Fredrick. "How come you stopped writing?"

"There-there, Fredrick." reassured Fredrick's father while patting him on the back. "The doctor said that the pain medications and morphine could cause your mind to act funny sometimes—maybe hallucinate. Donna is here with you, now. Doesn't that account for something?"

But Fredrick said nothing; he just looked at Donna with an expression of bitterness and disgust. It was then that Donna suddenly noticed that Fredrick looked drastically different from the last time she saw him. Fredrick was a young man—soldier—who was going off to war some months ago. Now he had returned with a long beard; his hair was somewhat longer and dirty-appearing. His face was worn. And of course he was missing a leg—confined to a wheelchair. And now he was very angry—almost resentful—towards Donna for not writing him as much while away at war; maybe almost hinting that she no longer loved him.

"Ugh! This pain!" suddenly complained Fredrick to his father. "Could you give me some more medication; some more morphine?"

One of the nearby paramedics reminded Fredrick's father, "There is a maximum amount of morphine that he should receive. Limited amounts are to be given to him. You are expected to abide by the recommended doses." Then the paramedic looked at Fredrick, "You really need to wait, Sir."

Fredrick actually used profanity at that moment in front of his parents, family, Donna and her parents while challenging the paramedic. "How do you know how I feel right now? Do you have any idea how much pain I am in? My leg was blown-off by a land mine!"

"I understand that, Sir." tried to reason the paramedic. "But there is only so much of this you can use for duration of time. This morphine is addicting, and you need to be careful." With that, the paramedic walked out of the house.

Father nodded his head in agreement. "I think the paramedic is right."

Fredrick shook his head in disbelief. "I had no idea that it would get to this. Look at the state I'm in. I'm in terrible pain; not to mention I can't even mobilize myself. What kind of life do I have to look forward to?"

Mother patted her son on his back, "Try not to worry. Things will get better. We have a rehabilitator scheduled to come to the house throughout the week so that you can finally start moving around. You'll probably be fitted with a prosthetic leg so that you can walk."

After some moments, Donna's father informed, "Donna has been very worried about you. Ever since she heard you were injured, she was very concerned whether or not you would be okay—whether or not you would come home alive."

Donna didn't appreciate the way Father had somewhat exaggerated her concern for Fredrick. She wasn't that worried. But she understood that Father meant well. He meant it as a way to put Fredrick at ease, and reassure that Donna truly loved him.

Fredrick, however, didn't seem to care at the moment. He yelped out in pain. "Gosh! I wish I could have some more morphine!

"For the love of God!" exclaimed Father. "Just give him some more. Dump some more into that bag. Can't you see he's in pain?" While saying this, he opened a dosage of morphine and poured it into the IV bag.

Within minutes, Fredrick began to appear sleepy; soon to dose off.

"We should probably leave him alone for now." announced Donna's father. "Why don't we go; let him get his rest, and let his family properly re-unite. You'll have plenty of time later to be with Fredrick."

Donna nodded and agreed. "Okay..." Funny thing: While leaving the house, Donna began to question whether or not she still loved Fredrick. A life with him in such a condition would be so miserable.

***

And so late that Saturday night, Donna had another date with Stan. On this night, Stan had an even greater surprise in the forest than last time. Tonight, there large was a four-foot-deep hole dug in the ground with the coffin-like box sitting at the bottom. Stan announced as both he and Donna stood by the old tree that tonight would be the night that she would say farewell to the life she currently lived. Tonight would be the night that Donna would be buried underground, then to be unearthed and made reborn.

Donna had to admit; in the previous times of playing the game, she was becoming increasingly devoted to the point of looking forward to the real thing. But tonight, Donna had a bad feeling. There just wasn't something right. She felt as if something would go terribly wrong.

"If you love me you would do this for me." Insisted Stan. "I mean you would see how much I want this. Can't you do this one thing for me? It won't be as bad as you think."

No man is that important; but Donna was young. She felt that it was time to fully surrender to Stan, and complete the game as a symbolic act of being 100% his. Still hesitant, Donna stepped down into the hole containing the wooden box that was large enough to accommodate her lying down. She assumed the restful position and gazed up into the dark forest, and the shadowy face of her twisted lover.

"That's it; oh, you're beautiful lying there. Close your eyes and put your hands on your chest."

She did as he asked.

This time a collection of dried-up flowers were placed on her chest. In his morbid nature, Stan wished to make it seem like Donna had been dead for some time. Then he put cover was put on the box. Donna could hear the dirt thrown on top while Stan continued to take his fantasy to the extreme.

"And we commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust..."

Donna was so close in that moment to changing her mind. She might still have had a chance to push the lid off, stand up and announce, "Game over!" But she wanted to please Stan who was certainly most deserving of fulfilling this desire of his. She would let him fill the hole with dirt, place a headstone at her mock grave and then wait for him to dig her out to make love. Donna had played the dead game a couple of times. She knew she could be in that box for some time before running out of air.

Back above ground: Once the hole had been filled, Stan looked for a large stone to place at the head of the mock grave. He had considered purchasing a marble headstone, named and dated just for the occasion; but wasn't sure if it would have raised some red flags being that there were no funerals in town for a young woman named Donna.

Before digging up Donna, Stan reached for a cigarette in shirt pocket. So proud of this moment, he figured he'd savor every moment of his fantasy by smoking a cigarette over Donna's grave; pretend to contemplate whether or not to follow through with the shameful act of unearthing a corpse.

But what was this?

"Blast-it anyway!" Stan cried out while stomping his foot in annoyance. He forgot his cigarettes; probably left them in his car. But then Stan started thinking; why should he feel so stressed out? He had a corpse (a pretend one) buried under ground. This pretend corpse was Donna; and she had been trained in recent times to endure being sealed shut in the box for lengthy periods of time. Donna was well aware that it could be hours before running out of air so she was fine. Stan could now relax, and enjoy his fantasy. But first, he needed a cigarette. And to do this, Stan would leave the valley of Donna's spirit mother; the place where Donna was now buried by the old tree.

Stan hiked all the way back to the parking area. A couple of times he started to feel guilty that Donna was left underground longer than promised. Could she have heard what was taking place above ground and known that Stan walked away? But Stan quickly fought off those feelings of guilt while reassuring himself that Donna would be fine.

Stan opened the car door."Now where are those cigarettes?" If Stan didn't have his cigarettes and matches in his shirt pocket, he would most surely keep them on the dashboard. But they weren't there! Maybe they fell out of the car while exiting with Donna. He looked around his car and walked along the parking lot. It was then that he finally remembered that he actually left his cigarettes and matches on the dresser at home.

Stan shrugged his shoulders and thought nothing of it while starting up the engine and backing out of the parking spot. The Texaco gas station where he worked in town was only 5 minutes from the Berry Bush Forest Preserve. He really deserved a cigarette!

Upon reaching the gas station, Stan encountered some acquaintances, two old schoolmates who were out for the evening. And they just so happened to be people who were friends with Fredrick. They apparently had the same idea that Stan had; get some late night cigarettes from the vending machine.

"So it looks like this is the only place in town for people to get cigarettes late at night." cited Stan.

"It looks like you're right about that." agreed one of the old schoolmates. Then he asked, "So I don't know if you heard the news, but Fredrick is back in town, now."

"Yeah?" answered Stan.

"Oh, now, don't try and pretend! You know all about it. You were with his girlfriend, Donna, all those months. Surely she told you that he was injured and home."

Stan shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, sure, I'll admit. I've been with Donna all these months. It's no big secret. But I don't know if you realize that Donna and Fredrick are old news—ancient history. She's mine now."

Both old classmates laughed. "How do you figure?"

"You can believe whatever you want." calmly answered Stan. "I tell you she's all mine. Get this: I dug a 4 foot hole, made a wooden box and lowered it in. Donna agreed to play a game of dig up the grave! She's in the box and buried. Once I get my cigarettes, I'm going back to dig her up. It's one of the greatest acts of devotion and subservience. What do you say about that?"

"You're crazy!" declared one of the old classmates. "You've always been crazy. And I don't believe your story one bit. If I were you, I'd be worried right now—probably even leave town. Once Fredrick's war buddies come around to visit, you'll probably get beaten up really good."

Stan shook his head in disbelief and walked back to his car. He lit up a cigarette and drove off. Should he have worried about Fredrick's war buddies coming to beat him up? Maybe he and Donna should start a new life together in a new city.

The road that leads to Berry Bush Forest Preserve is on an incline. Once reaching the top of the incline, the entrance to Berry Bush Forest Preserve can be seen. On this particular night, however, there was something new that would be waiting for him before reaching the entrance. You see, there was a flat stretch of road that cut through the forested region with a rapidly approaching trucker who had been traveling many hours and feeling the effects of exhaustion. The semi truck drifted in and out of the opposite lane several times until the trucker could no longer hold consciousness. But the truck remained traveling close to 60 MPH in the opposite lane—the very lane that Stan was traveling uphill on. Since Stan was traveling up an incline, he couldn't see the danger that was rapidly approaching.

There was a split second of impact when Stan had one, final thought of the importance of reaching Donna. Some part of him realized what happened, despite how quickly the tragedy came. He knew for certain that he would never reach his precious love that lay terrified and confined to a mock grave.

***

News spread of the deadly accident involving Stan and the sleepy trucker. And paired up with the news was the mysterious disappearance of Donna, who hadn't been seen for over two days. The acquaintances of Stan, who saw him at the Texaco gas station on his final night alive, realized that he may very well have buried Donna alive; and hadn't reached her before the fatal accident. This realization was conveyed to law enforcement officials who launched a large-scale search for a possible mock grave in the woods.

But Donna was never found!

The End!

