Haunting Beauties

   Jeannie carried a big bowl of popcorn into the living room. Beverly was seated on the couch in front of the television set. She looked through the TV listings as Jeannie sat the bowl down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to her sister.

   "How was the movie you and Ted saw last night?" Jeannie scooped up a fist full of popcorn.

   "Had it's moments." Beverly thought about the picture a little as she grabbed a handful for herself. "I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to get used to Joe DeRita as a Stooge."

   "He's a step up from Besser."

   "Granted. Maybe I was conflicted. I wanted to see the new James Mason picture."

   "Did you tell Ted that?"

   "I didn't have the heart. He was so excited to see the Stooges that I wasn't going to ruin it for him."

   "You must really like Ted. You don't usually hold your opinions back like that."

   "I'm trying to get better at that sort of thing. What would you like to watch tonight?"

   "I haven't had a chance to look at the listings. What's on the box?"

   "Well," Beverly scanned the paper again, "there's a Charlie Chan movie, or a Gene Autry picture, or The Twilight Zone. After that is a ghost movie of some kind."

   "I'd be game for either, but the Twilight Zone show would probably be my pick."

   "Mine too. Turn to KLOR."

   A storm rolled into Creek Bend that night. The area didn't get a lot of storms, but those that popped up tended to be doozies. Jeannie didn't really notice the thunderclaps coming closer and closer. She was almost asleep. In her room across the hall, however, Beverly was still wide awake. She didn't usually let her imagination run wild, but after a particularly spooky Twilight Zone episode, and a pretty effective spooker about ghosts that take over human bodies, Bev was finding her thoughts increasingly uneasy as the storm was rolling in. These were the conditions where one suddenly hears in the house sounds that normally go unnoticed. When shadows begin to take on menacing shapes. At least Beverly knew that it was all in her mind, although somehow that reality had trouble staying in focus. She was grateful she hadn't been around when Orson Wells made his infamous Martian invasion broadcast. 

   Jeannie stirred from her sleep as a lightning strike came close enough to illuminate the whole room. The resultant boom of thunder rattled the bed. Jeannie was still groggy as she pushed herself up to a seated position. She wanted to go back to sleep, but felt it might be a good idea to make sure the television had been unplugged. Rather than grab her robe, though, Jeannie just bundled her bedsheet around herself and staggered toward the door. She bumped into the wall. This helped bring her to a less sleepy state, but the noise could be heard in Beverly's room. Beverly listened intently. She could hear a door opening and somebody shuffling down the hallway. So caught up in the spooky atmosphere was she that Beverly had forgotten entirely that her sister's room was just across the hall.

   Logic would tell Beverly that Jeannie had just left her room. Another close lightning strike overrode any logic, however, and Beverly wrapped her bedsheets over her head. What was she to do? Was there an intruder in the house? What if Jeannie was in trouble? Beverly at least remembered that Jeannie was in the house, but failed to deduce that her sister might actually be the one walking the halls. Beverly kept herself bundled up as she searched the room for some kind of weapon. Stepping on a hairbrush she'd dropped earlier made her pause to slip on her socks.

   Beverly cautiously slunk down the stairs. She was still bundled up in her bedsheet, which made it awkward to carry her softball bat. She eyed the living room as the stray flash of lightning lit the area like a flickering spotlight. Jeannie was crouched behind the television set, unaware that Beverly was now in the same room. The set had indeed been unplugged, and Jeannie was relieved. She got back to her feet. What Beverly saw was a shapeless mass rising from behind the television set. Beverly froze. Another streak of lightning allowed both girls to see one another, or at least the vaguely human shapes created by their sheets.

   Both girls let out a shriek which further terrified the other as they ran in opposite directions. Beverly dashed into the kitchen, where her socks lacked much traction and caused her to slide into the counter. Jeannie ran headlong into the door to the coat closet, knocking herself out. Beverly was bent over from having slammed into the counter. She made a squeaking sound as she tried to take a breath before collapsing into the floor. She hit her head as she did so, rendering her out cold as well.

   Jeannie was the first to come to. She wasn't sure what had happened. The room looked empty of any other bodies. Jeannie got back to her feet, pausing to rub her head and moan, and walked back to the stairs. Beverly began to stir, letting out a moan which caused Jeannie to stop in her tracks. Eyes wide, Jeannie slowly turned back and listened for another sound. Beverly started to shake off her stupor and reached up to grab the counter for balance. This caused a plastic glass to tip over, which made an interesting sound as it bounced onto the floor. Jeannie cautiously moved to the doorway to the kitchen. Beverly turned to leave the room. Another lightning flash lit up the room and let the girls see themselves as they shuffled toward each other. 

   Another round of screaming and running ensued, but in the process both girls dropped their sheets and took flight in their pajamas. Jeannie tripped when she got to the stairs, which fortunately were carpeted. Beverly was clawing at the kitchen wall, trying to find the door. Jeannie came to her senses first.

   "Bev? Are you down here?" Jeannie called. Beverly heard and spun around, keeping flat against the wall.

   "J-J-J-Jeannie?"

   "Where are you?"

    "In here. The kitchen. I think there's something in this house!" Beverly remained frozen as Jeannie flipped on the lights. It all became clear when both girls noticed their sheets crumpled in the doorway that connected the kitchen to the living room. Both sighed in relief. Beverly then marched over to gather up her bedding.

   "Don't you ever tell anyone about this," Beverly warned, "or I'll kill you." Jeannie thought the matter over for a second.

   "I think we should write it down, Bev."

   "What? Why?"

   "Because if it happened to someone else, it'd be hysterical. I think it'll make a dandy cartoon!"

   Beverly mulled over the idea. "I'm not getting back to sleep tonight. Where's the typewriter?"