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Storyteller's Cabin |
After what seemed like hours, she reached the ramshackle cabin. The yard was barren and filled with all sorts of rusted junk. Sickly-looking chickens fluttered about, desperately pecking at whatever crumbs they could find. Looking at her eerie surroundings, she thought to herself that maybe this wasn't such a good idea.
Nonetheless, Mrs. Flowers climbed off the wagon and hesitantly knocked on the grimy front door. There was no immediate sound from the house, and Mrs. Flowers, actually relieved that no one was home, turned to leave. But then the door slowly creaked open on its rusted hinges. Mrs. Flowers slowly turned around - and there, standing in the darkened doorway, was the conjure woman. She was an old hag with long, stringy hair that looked as if it were made of spider webs, long, dirty fingernails, and a giant wart on her chin. She recognized Mrs. Flowers immediately, grinned widely - revealing five or six rotten, yellow teeth - and hissed, "How nice to see you. Please come in."
She led Mrs. Flowers into a dark musty room and motioned for her to sit in a dirty, overstuffed chair in the corner. Mrs. Flowers then told the conjure woman about her sleeping problem and how she would do anything for just one night of good, sound sleep. The hag nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. She then returned with a dark vial filled with a syrupy-looking substance. "This will do the trick - it's made of cherry wine and the wings of hibernating bats. It will surely put you to sleep - the soundest sleep you've ever had. No one and no thing will be able to wake you until you are fully rested."
Mrs. Flowers thought about this for a moment, then took the vial. "Thank you so much," she said to the hag. "How much do I owe you?"
The conjure woman grinned and waved her off. "It's my pleasure," she hissed. "Just enjoy your sleep."
With that, Mrs. Flowers returned home and drank the bitter liquid. She cringed at the disgusting taste, but before she knew it, it became harder and harder to keep her eyes open. She staggered to bed and plunged into a blissful sleep, a content smile creeping across her face.
Meanwhile, back at the swamp cabin, the conjure woman was biding her time. And after a couple of days had passed, she began spreading rumors throughout the community that something funny was going on up at the Flowers farm. Mrs. Flowers hadn't been seen in days - had she finally succumbed to her poor health? After all, she was looking more and more like walking death each day.
Shortly thereafter, a group of townsfolk paid a visit to the Flowers farm to find out what was going on. They knocked on the door, but got no answer, even though they could see her wagon parked out front. They ran around the house peering into every window; but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Now very concerned, they picked the front door lock and searched the home. They soon found Mrs. Flowers upstairs, lying peacefully on her bed. They tried to rouse her, but to no avail. Her skin was cool to the touch. They listened for a heartbeat, or breathing sounds, but heard nothing. They sadly came to the realization that Mrs. Flowers was dead.
Friends in town cried at news of her death, but felt that maybe now she was finally getting the rest she craved. They laid her body out in the living room and sat up with her overnight, sharing memories of the times they had. The next day, they carried her in a pine box to the old cemetery on the hillside, and laid her in a freshly dug grave beside her husband.
As the pine box was lowered into the grave, Mrs. Flowers slowly woke from her long sleep. You see, the concoction the conjure woman had given her had caused her breathing to become so shallow, and her heart rate so slow, that they were virtually impossible to detect. It also caused her body temperature to fall so low that her skin was cool to the touch. She didn't know where she was until she heard dirt being shoveled on top of her coffin. She banged frantically on the coffin lid and screamed, "Let me out! I'm not dead! Do you hear me? I'm not dead!" But her screams were drowned out by the "thud, thud, thud" of the dirt landing on the coffin lid. In no time at all, she was buried alive.
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