Tag… You’re It!! The Graveyard Game

TAG…YOU’RE IT!! The Graveyard Game

Ten people. Ten people in ten different places,  doing ten different things. But all sharing one single thought… “What if it really works?”

It seems an unwritten rule in tiny little spit shot towns all across the country that each has it’s own tall tales and legends of old, whispered through the ages and shared from one generation to the next, just as it has been since the beginning of time and as it will continue to be. This is simply the version of one of those tall tales and legends as it’s known here in our little town.

You see, in the little town of Sawnhurst, California, there is an age old tradition tied to a myth. A myth so old that its’ origins were not remembered nor could they be traced back to their beginnings. It was just something that had become a Halloween Tradition. A tradition that for some was just a creepy story to share around Halloween campfires. For others,  a precious and priceless gift. And for a very unlucky chosen few, a Halloween Nightmare, or so the stories go.

What is known is that at every year, on the night of Halloween, at exactly 11:00pm, ten of the townsfolk show up at the entrance to the towns’ only cemetery. It’s not known for certain just what the purpose of this gathering is, nor how the ten allowed to enter the cemetery are chosen. Rumor has it that those allowed entry into the cemetery are granted one hour to visit with someone of their own choosing. Someone no longer amongst the living.  Legend says that for that one hour, from 11:00pm until midnight, their Dearly or sometimes perhaps un-dearly departed appear to them and  for one hour communication between the dearly deceased and those who have been left behind is possible.

It’s rumored that this event is a strange version of a game children play on playgrounds every day called, “Tag… You’re It!!” But as to why it’s known as such nor how the ten are chosen nor any other details of this annual ritual are known for certain by the general townsfolk. The only thing that is certain is that at the stroke of midnight, nine people exit the cemetery and of those nine who return, they aint saying a word about it. Not one single gosh danged word.

Ya might be-a thinking either your eyes are playing tricks on ya or that maybe I’ve just gotten a bit dotty in my old age but none of them things happen to be the case. You heard it just right. I did say ten folks would show up at the cemetery entrance and yes I did say nine folks would return. As to the one missing soul, that’s all there is. They are missing. Simply never to be seen or heard from again. I’ve heard tales that back before folks learned themselves better, some friends or relatives of that lost sole or even local busybodies or newsfolk might go poking around and might tried to stir up a fuss, a wonderin’ what ’twas that happened to that missing husband, wife, son or daughter ‘er what have ya, but if they stirred up too much trouble, well then the town folk would wake up one day to find that person done vanished right off the face of the Earth. Course, no, not all of ’em disappear. Some of ’em seem to wake up one day having been struck plumb dumb sometime during the night. Yep, they just wake up seeming like all the sense in their head took a late night train to Hollywood, looking to become a movie star and left behind a body with all the sense of a slobber monster and the I.Q. of a cooked carrot. But that was long ago if it ever happened at all. Nope, these here days, when the loved one doesn’t return at the stroke of midnight, them there loved ones keep their questions to themselves and not be trying to raise any ruckus. Folks learned it’s a lot safer that way.

Now what’s that yer asking? Well, a course you can look right into that there cemetery and your danged tootin’ that just about the entire towns’ population hasn’t showed themselves at the magical hour and trying to get a gander at the happenings that go on every year, but all they ever see is the ten people who are allowed in form a circle and start to sing one of those little rhymes like the little ‘uns always be singin’ out in the schoolyard, Then just as sure as you please, a fog will creep itself slowly in and keep a comin till it’s so thick ya can’t see nothing ‘cept what your imagination conjures up. Kinda like seein’ a rooster in a fluffy cloud. That fog just appears out of nowhere and for the next hour makes those ten folks and their magic circle disappear. Then, as that big clock down in the town proper begins to count off the twelve strokes of midnight, those folk just come walking out of that there cemetery just the same as they done walked themselves in there. All but one of them do anyways. But don’t go wastin’ yer time trying to get any one of those nine who return to talk cuz it aint gonna happen. Not one of the nine who have returned each year has ever said so much as one word about what goes on once that fog rolls in. Not a single person. Not a single word. Not once. Ever.

And so the mystery remains for most of the people in this mostly forgotten town. Except, of course for the ten who  meet at the cemetery gates every Halloween.

This year, Jimmy is one of the ten  and tonight is Halloween. Jimmy was having the same thoughts shared by the others who would be meeting at the gates to the cemetery this evening. They were thoughts of, “What if this is real? What if this actually works?” and of course, “What happens to that one person who never returns? What if I’m that person?” But of course people always seem to think it could never happen to them. So like the others he put that thought out of his mind.

Jimmy had been chosen by a guy named Ronnie, whom he knew from seeing around town and school. While they were not exactly friends, they did attend the same high school. Ronnie was a senior, while Jimmy was only a freshman.

When Ronnie had first approached Jimmy and told him that he had been chosen as one of the ten and that he could spend a magical hour visiting a departed soul of his choosing, Jimmy at first tried laughing it off, thinking the only thing he had been chosen for was was to be the victim of the many pranks freshman often suffer at the hands and minds of seniors in the high school. However, it wasn’t long before Ronnie’s persistence and solemn demeanor convinced him that perhaps this was not just a high school prank. Jimmy’s longing to see his sister Carol, who had been murdered three years before at the far too young age of nine convinced him to take the chance and told Ronnie to count him in. Ronnie instructed Jimmy to be at the cemetery gates at exactly 11:00pm and cautioned him to make sure to keep in mind that the visit would end at precisely midnight and that he must make certain to exit the cemetery before the clock in the town square finished counting down the twelve strokes of midnight if he didn’t want to join his beloved sister in the afterlife far sooner than planned. The warning sent a chill down Jimmy’s spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

And so as the day of Halloween slowly edged towards Halloween Night and the time to meet the others at the cemetery grew nearer, Jimmy found himself growing more and more nervous..  Could the legends really be true? Jimmy began thinking about his kid sister and was only a little surprised to find tears running down his cheeks.

At last the appointed time arrived and Jimmy began making his way to the cemetery gates where he discovered the others had already arrived.

Ronnie, dressed all in black, as were all the others welcomed the chosen ten and walked with them through the cemetery gates. Once inside Ronnie instructed them to form a circle and join hands. He once more reminded them that when the clock began to count off the stroke of midnight to take care to be out of the cemetery by the final chime or they would remain within the cemetery gates forever. He also reminded them that one of them would not be returning. A few laughed nervously and a couple of the braver souls made half hearted attempts at making scary ghost noises which Ronnie ignored.

Ronnie walked to the center of the circle and  explained that each in their own turn would repeat the chant of, “By the light of the moon on All Hallows Eve, grant me one hour free from my grief. Bring forth…” and here they were to name that person they were calling back from the other side.

Ronnie then said he would now choose the first and called upon a girl named Cindi, a cute little blond, who like Jimmy, was a freshman in high school. Cindi nervously stepped forward and spoke the words, “By the light of the moon on All Hallows Eve, grant me one hour fre from my grief. Bring forth my Father, Tom.”

Suddenly, appearing out of nowhere, a fog began rolling in. Through the fog, they could see a shadow begin to appear.  Cindi  suddenly squealed with delight calling out  “Daddy,” as she excitedly ran into her father’s arms.

Jimmy was next to be called upon and after repeating the chant was he found himself breathless seeing his sister slowly  materialize, and it was with tears in the eyes of  both  that they slowly approached each other and after taking a moment to gaze upon the other that they tightly embraced both sobbing tears of happiness.

And so it went until at last all of the ten had been reunited with their lost loved ones and for the next hour, the chosen ten and their loved ones talked, they laughed and cried and played each experiencing their own version of heaven nor wasting so much as a second  of this precious time.

At last Jimmy’s sister asked  “So Dear Brother, for what purpose have you summoned me here?” to which Jimmy replied, “I guess I just wanted to say I love you one more time.(” How many of us would sacrifice almost anything to be able to do the same? To be given that often longed for  chance just to say, “I Love You. one last time”) Before Jimmy’s sister could  open her mouth to respond, the clock in the town square began it’s tolling,; counting off the strokes of midnight. Whatever Jimmy’s Sister had been  intending to say was forgotten and replaced with her urging him to run, pleading for him to go faster out of the cemetery gates as she slowly faded away, drifting back into the fog from which she had first appeared.

Jimmy ran as fast as he could, the thoughts of himself as being the one unable to leave finally breaking through all the denials in his brain and the relief he felt as he crossed out those dark gates was something he would never forget. He had made it before the sixth chime had rung and began to walk away but hadn’t gotten far when he suddenly heard a ruckus and desperate screaming. He turned to see the young girl,  Cindi desperately clawing at Ronnie, and trying to push him out of her way. But Ronnie stood there as if he were made of stone completely immovable and completely blocking the young girl from leaving the cemetery.

As the ninth stroke of midnight sounded,  Jimmy was horrified by what he saw and without thinking, he ran back and began trying to wrestle Ronnie out of the young girls way asking Ronnie, “What the Hell are you doing? Let her out! You’re as good as killing her.” Ronnie reached out and easily pushed Jimmy who landed hard on his butt as the final chime sounded. Jimmy turned and could only watch, helpless  as Cindi’s  slowly faded away.

After the shock of what he had seen released it’s grip on Jimmy, he stood, approaching Ronnie and demanding to know if Ronnie had lost his mind. He said to Ronnie, “You as good as killed her. I seen it. What is wrong with you.?” With a resigned look and speaking in a voice of resigned regret that “A  sacrifice must be made. This year, as it has been every year and as it will be in years to come. Tell ya what Hero, next year you get to decide. You been wanting to know how the ten are picked and how one is chosen to decide the ten. and who decides the one who does not return? It’s really quite simple and you won’t go to the cops or anyone else and you will not say a single word to anyone ever. Next Halloween, YOU get to pick the ten and it is you who will choose one to become the sacrificial lamb. You’ve heard the rumors haven’t you? the ones that say this little tradition is called ,”Tag… You’re It?” Well, it’s true and guess what bro… Tag… You’re It!!”