tagNon-EroticMary Irene McDonaldson

Mary Irene McDonaldson

byPTBzzzz©

Please enter this in the current contest.

This story came to me slowly over the last few days. A neighbor was taken to the hospital by ambulance after having a mini stroke. She is home now and as of writing this she is doing fine.

No neighbors, souls or trees were hurt in the writing of this story.

There is no real sex in this story

I never enter in the contests so this is a first


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It was late September, I believe the 28th.

I saw the red and white lights flashing as the ambulance slowly made its way down the dirt road that ran past my house. The road was in poor shape once you passed my place, the ruts were bad and the potholes were worse.

The weather was cool and rainy, with a dense fog slowly settling in as the evening wore on. The fog was about 12 feet above the ground at this point. Every now and then off in the distance you could hear the heavy roll of thunder as it made its way closer and closer.

I knew who they went down the road to get. Only one person lived below me. Her given name was Mary Irene McDonaldson. Some people called her The Cat Lady, others called her The Witch, my wife and I called her Hot Flashes.

The inside of her house is like a refrigerator. She once told me "I don't mind it, my hot flashes keep me warm."

I am a handyman; retired after working for 40 years in various industries. She hired me to paint the outside of her house and put a new roof on. It looked real nice when I was done. Since then she has me do other jobs and drive her to the store, doctors and any other place she needs to go. We always use her car; the plates have been expired since December 31st of last year.

Mary retired from teaching over 30 years ago. Her age? I haven't a clue. I am 60 and she makes me look like a young pup. I have heard rumors of 85 to 92.

She is about 5 feet tall and well over 250 pounds. Is blind in one eye and can't see out of the other, almost. The center of the vision in both eyes is gone, she can see out around the edges. Between 1 and 3 in the afternoon I never go in or out on the road because she drives her old truck up to get her mail. She let her license expire almost 20 years ago.

She is stubborn, set in her ways and can be as cantankerous as hell. She likes me, I make her laugh. The last time, a few years ago, she went to the hospital she had a small stroke. She told me, "They want to run a hundred tests on me, they take blood every couple of hours and should have me sucked dry by midnight."

I laughed and asked her how much time she had to study for all those tests?

She thought it was one of my best.

What can I say about taste?

She never married; there are rumors she was a lesbian. That does not bother me in the least as long as she leaves my wife alone. Hell it's bad enough to fight off the guys; I don't need to fight off an old broad too. She claims she dated a rich fellow that was a distant relation to my wife; he is dead. I guess we can not confirm that now. Can we?

It took about 25 minutes for the ambulance guys to load her and start back up the hill. Just as she passed my place there was a huge clap of thunder, an immense tree fell over just missing the back end of the ambulance. The emergency lights on the rig went off for 10 seconds and then came back on. I heard the siren sound and they started to pick up speed. Soon they were gone.

The next morning I had a call from Mary's nephew; she died on the way to the hospital.

That afternoon I ran across Bart; he runs with the fire company. He was in the back of the ambulance last night.

"Funny thing" he said "she was stable. We were heading up the road when there was a huge clap of thunder, that tree fell down and she tried to sit bolt upright on the gurney. She screamed at the top of her lungs and died right there. We tried to bring her back."

He continued "I never heard a sound like that before in my life. I get the chills every time I think about it. It reminded me of a cat fighting with a demon from hell. It must have echoed for 20 seconds."

When he finished telling me about the ride he was shaking like a leaf. This really troubled him greatly.

They record the actions in the back of the rig for training purposes and in case there is a claim about mistreatment. He had reported the incident to the captain and they reviewed the recording. No one came out of that room with a good feeling about it; they could not really describe what happened very well either. They were all badly shaken.

We buried Mary 5 days later. Things did not go well. First the body sat bolt upright in the morgue; It sighed and let out the most horrendous fart they had ever heard in there. The stench was overpowering.

The undertaker reported that he had trouble draining the blood from the body; what came out was almost as thick as jelly.

As they were transporting the casket to the church for the service they had to pull over because there was a loud thumping from the back of the hearse. After making sure that all was well they found they had a flat tire. As they tried to unload her at the church the lid to the coffin flew open and did not want to go back down.

Just as the service began the lights went out in the church. The candles flickered wildly and almost blew out.

I whispered to my wife, "I think Mary is here today!"

Almost everyone else heard me and started to laugh nervously.

The service moved to the graveside and continued in unbelievable form. The casket would not lower into the hole correctly. First one end almost fell in, they fixed it and the other almost fell in. Then it would not go down at all. Finally 6 huge guys lifted the casket off the mechanism with ropes. It was pulled out of the way and the casket was lowered into the ground. When they tested it later it worked just fine.

They could not get one of the ropes out of the grave; while tugging and pulling on the rope one of the guys fell into the grave. He was out like a shot and they left the damn rope in there. I looked over at the guy; he was white as a sheet.

As we all filed past and put a handful of dirt into the grave we all made a remark. I was next to last; I stated quietly "I don't think she was ready to go and I am sure she does not want to be in there."

I thought I heard her say "Your right."

Her nephew, Erin, was last. As we walked back to the church I asked if he heard the remark. He just shook his head "No."

The church and attendees all brought dishes for a pot luck supper afterward. As I was eating I noticed a piece of meet sliding off the plate and land on the table. Meat does not slide uphill on its own! I left it there where it landed. My wife looked over and saw it. She started to reach over and pick it up; I shook my head "No."

When we returned home she asked me about it.

I told her what I saw.

Now she thinks I am nuts.

Normally my dog has the run of the entire house. She has been in heat for the last 12 days, so she is confined to the kitchen. At night, when in heat, she sleeps in her crate. Most evenings she whines and raises a slight ruckus after the lights are out. She seemed to be contented that night.

When I woke at an ungodly hour I noticed the crate was open and there was a folding chair next to the crate. She was sleeping inside the crate.

I put the chair back where it belonged, used the bathroom and went back to bed. I woke again around 9; my wife had been up for an hour. When I walked into the kitchen the chair was back.

We tease each other about how we spoil the dog; we call her a cuddle pup because that is what she does best. I asked how come she put the chair back.

She looked up, convinced I had lost what little mind was still there from the day before, and said "I didn't put it there, you must have."

I thought about telling her how I put it away in the middle of the night and decided it would not be the best move at this time. I just left it there.

I got my chainsaw out to cut up the tree that fell over the road. It looked like oak to me; the saw chains sparked and acted like I was trying to cut steel. I went out and bought 3 new chains; I managed to cut out enough that you could get between the pieces and go to Mary's place before I gave up and went back inside. Now I have 5 dull as hell chains. Can you say "Pissed?" I thought you could.

I was!

I took it easy the rest of the day.

Erin came up with a realtor to look at the old place; don't ask why his name is spelled like a girl, it just is.

When I returned from my walk to get the mail I saw one of the rockers on my porch moving slowly back and forth. The other was not moving at all. I am not going to mention that to my wife either; she is already set to have me committed.

Before we went to bed that evening, we both checked the dog pen and I put the chair away again.

I was feeling a little frisky that evening. We cuddled and kissed; I reached over to caress her breasts and heard the sound of the cuddle pup running down the hall toward the bedroom. The dog ran in, jumped on the bed and the ceiling light came on; all within a 3 second time frame.

My wife Pat sat up and stared in disbelief.

I hollered "Mary, turn off the light and put the dog into her pen!"

The light went back out and the dog jumped down to return to her crate.

Pat was still sitting up. I got out of the bed, put my robe on and went out to the porch. I sat in the rocker that was not moving.

I thought for about 10 minutes before I spoke. "I know you are here Mary, you were responsible for everything the day of the funeral, weren't you."

The rocker moved faster.

"I mean, you did not want your body put in the ground, you pushed the food off my plate and you told me I was right about you not being ready to die."

The chair stopped moving.

"You have been keeping the dog company; I can see her watching you."

No response this time.

"You are welcome to stick around if you can behave. That includes not bothering us when we are in bed."

The chair rocked slowly.

The mischief stopped, the dog spent pat of her time watching Mary and life was good for a while.

October 27th Erin came to an agreement with a realtor to list Mary's old place; the sign went up. Late that evening there was a light snow, we got about an inch. About 3 in the morning I woke to find a bright sky down the road.

Mary's place was on fire. I called and reported it. By the time the crews got there all they could do is keep it from spreading into the woods. The fire marshal called it arson, the strange thing was there were no tracks leading to or from the scene, other than those made by the fire trucks and firemen. The firemen swore there were no tracks as they drove in. The fire marshal could not explain how someone got in, set the fire and left without a trace.

The next evening I sat out on the porch in my rocker. The other one finally moved slowly as if someone was just sitting down. It started a slow rocking; back and forth, back and forth.

I spoke "You set your place on fire, didn't you.

The chair stopped.

"You don't want it to be sold?"

The chair started to move slowly again.

"What do you want to happen here?"

A soft voice said "Erin is a nice boy, but all he cares about is the money he can get out of the property. Let him collect on the insurance, offer him a pittance for the remaining land. He will take what you offer, I am certain."

That was the last I heard her say.

The next night was Halloween. We had about 50 children from the surrounding area stop by for treats. The chair that rocked itself was a huge hit. The children all asked how it rocked all on its own.

I blamed the wind.

The next evening the chair was rocking for a while then it stopped around dusk. It was All Souls Day, the day some believe the souls of everyone who died in the last year finally got on to heaven.

The next day I tried to cut up the big tree, I had no problems this time.

Erin sold me Mary's 5 acres for a song. My son would like to build a small place on it. I told him it would be OK as long as it was not near the old foundation.

My Pat still thinks I am strange, but she is willing to live with it. She never asked about that night in bed; I think she is afraid of the answer.

The rocker still moves on its own each Halloween and Bart still can hear her scream at the strangest times.

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Be gentle when you vote, and polite.

Hope you enjoyed the tale.

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