On this year’s All Hallows Eve, I’ll be on the lookout for any
or all of the four G’s, ghosts, goblins, gremlins and ghouls (not to mention
witches, wraiths, warlocks and the like).
Just in case I happen to happen upon one or more of these
spooky creatures I want to be able to recognize one and all, so I looked them
up in The Encarta Dictionary.
Ghost:
The supposed spirit of somebody who has died, believed to appear as a shadowy
form or to cause sounds, the movement of objects, or a frightening atmosphere
in a place.
Goblin:
An imaginary being resembling a small man of unpleasant appearance, usually
evil or mischievous.
Gremlin:
A tiny mischievous imaginary being that is blamed for faults in tools,
machinery, and electronic equipment.
Ghoul:
Somebody who is morbidly fascinated with death, disaster, or repulsive things.
Just between us, I’m really hoping I don’t run into any of
the above-mentioned creatures of Halloween before, on the night of, or after
the fun is all said and done. Those crazy Celts are the ones who started it
all when they decided to celebrate the harvest and the changing of the seasons
from fall to winter. Over the years the church thought the idea of celebrating
those who have gone before us into the great mystery that lies beyond death’s doorway
seemed like a good idea at this otherwise uninspiring time of year.
Whatever the reason, we might all agree that it doesn’t take
much of an excuse to promote the idea of a celebration. Personally, I like the idea
of celebrating our ancestors better than scaring ourselves with the four G’s
and/or any of the other letters that begin the names of those dark-alley types
we’re all afraid of meeting.
However, I will say that writing stories about the four G’s
and their kin really appeals to me. How fascinating to think up stories about shadowy
characters floating around causing mischief. When I was a girl growing up in
Kokomo, Indiana, my big brother, our neighborhood friends, and I used to sit
out in the backyard in gathering darkness and tell ghost stories. It’s mighty fun
to be scared in a group, but not so much while out somewhere on a bleak and
lonely road on a stormy night all on your own.
I’ll leave you with a scary piece I heard as a child and
well, it scared the S_ _ _ out of me! It was written by Indiana’s so-called
Hoosier poet, James Whitcomb Riley and made a great night-time yarn to share out
in the backyard with the kids gathered ‘round.
Little Orphant Annie (written in Hoosier dialect)
Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay,
An’ wash the cups an’ saucers up, an’ brush the
crumbs away,
An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the
hearth, an’ sweep,
An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her
board-an’-keep;
An’ all us other childern, when the supper things
is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest
fun
A-list’nin’ to the witch-tales ‘at Annie tells
about,
An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
Onc’t they was a little boy wouldn’t say his
prayers,--
So when he went to bed at night, away up stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an’ his Daddy heerd him
bawl,
An’ when they turn’t the kivvers down, he wasn’t
there at all!
An’ they seeked him in the rafter-room, an’
cubby-hole, an’ press,
An’ seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an’
ever’wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an’
roundabout--
An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
An’ one time a little girl ‘ud allus laugh an’
grin,
An’ make fun of ever’one, an’ all her blood an’
kin;
An’ onc’t, when they was “company," an’ ole
folks was there,
She mocked ‘em an’ shocked ‘em, an’ said she didn’t
care!
An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to
run an’ hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin’ by
her side,
An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ‘fore she
knowed what she’s about!
An’ the Gobble-uns’ll git you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
An’ little Orphant Annie says when the blaze is
blue,
An’ the lamp-wick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo!
An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is
gray,
An’ the lightnin’-bugs in dew is all squenched
away,--
You better mind yer parents, an’ yer teachers fond
an’ dear,
An’ churish them ‘at loves you, an’ dry the
orphant’s tear,
An’ he’p the pore an’ needy ones ‘at clusters all
about,
Er the Gobble-uns’ll git you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
Happy Halloween!
Cheryl
c.k.thomas
Author of
the Arrowstar Series
“Take a
chance, amaze yourself.”
