The Moonlit Road - Sop Doll

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Jack studied the group for a moment, trying to figure out if this was a joke, or if maybe they were trying to scare him because they wanted the job for themselves. But the grim looks on their faces told Jack they were dead serious.

"Why's that?" Jack finally asked. "Is this Davis fella some kind of slave driver?"

"Nobody knows," said another one of the men. "All we know is, everyone who's gone up there has been found dead the next morning. There's some strange stuff goin' on up there."

Now Jack wasn't scared easily. Even as a child, ghost stories and superstitions that scared other kids seemed silly to him. He flashed a confident grin and said, "A little hard work doesn't scare me. I think I'll take that job. And I'd be mighty obliged if one of you fellas would give me a ride up there."

One of the men shrugged his shoulders and pointed Jack toward his wagon. An hour later, they were riding across the flat and vast Mississippi landscape toward the Davis home. The surrounding farmland was so barren and drought-stricken that Jack thought it looked sort of like the Arabian Desert. After all, he'd seen it for himself in an old magazine somebody left on the train.

Grave

Before long, Jack was surprised to see an oasis in the distance - a small cluster of lush oak trees in the middle of the brown fields. A dirt path stretched from the roadside into the center of this odd, tiny forest. The driver pointed at the trees and said, "There's the Davis place. Sorry, but I'm gonna have to ask you to walk the rest of the way."

Jack could see a flash of fear in the driver's eyes. He smiled and thanked him, then hopped off the wagon toward the Davis home. The walk up the path seemed to stretch on forever, but as Jack neared the grove of trees, he saw an ominous sight. On the side of the path was a tiny graveyard without any headstones, only hastily carved crosses. What's worse, each of the graves looked freshly dug.

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