Weeks passed and our tight grip on the old woman loosened. Rollie’s giggle fits faded too as he had no doubt grown tired of the same old joke, even with his feeble mind. Summer was almost over and we were headed back to school.
Adam, Erin and I remained friends, but I wasn’t sure Kevin and Jason would. Kevin had other friends and he’d taken an interest in music. Jason had the football team. That one terrifying moment may have bonded them together on a certain level—bonded us all—but it was sure to be buried once school started back.
Every once in a while I glanced at the old battered and bruised house on the corner with its one creepy oak tree and the nicely manicured patch of low cut weeds in the front. I figured the others were glancing at it too.
By the last day of September, my curiosity had faded and my nightmares were all but gone, at least about the devil woman. We didn’t talk as much about her, even when Rollie came by and cranked up the mower. I still ran through the poem in my head even if we no longer said it out loud as a group. I’d bet the rest of them were thinking those words too…on furniture of bone. Thinking about them and hoping they had the very protective power we’d given to them.