The Fogman

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“Why are we out here?” Sammy moaned.

“You’re not scared are you?” Leo poked Sammy in the back and made his jump. “I don’t believe a word of that crap.”

“Yeah, well I do! I don’t like this place on a nice day, but why in the hell did we have to come out here at four o’clock in the morning–in the fog!”

Leo started mocking Sammy. Everyone in Frog Hollow knew the story of the fogman. No one believed it though. No such thing as ghosts and cursed workmen. Those kind of stories are just told to scare lazy people into not slacking off at work.

“Shut up you two,” Jack said. “I thought I heard something.”

“Like wha–”

Leo stopped and his eyes grew wide as his face wrinkled. He strained to listen. It’s not possible, he thought. Nothing’s run on these lines before my grandpa was born.

The boys looked at each other.

“Wh…wh…wh…what’s that?” Sammy pointed up the line.

Leo, Sammy, and Jack gulped as they watched the light in the fog come closer.

“RUN!” Leo shouted.

The boys ran all the way back to Frog Hollow and did not stop until they reached their treehouse. Leo was first up the ladder, followed by Sammy. They waited for Jack to climb in through the window. They were sure he was right behind them.

When the morning sun rose and the fog started to life, Sammy and Leo rushed back out to the old Number Seven line. All they found was one size nine tennis shoe and a broken fog lantern.

“Jack,” Leo asked, as he saw a figure in the fog beside a tree.

“The line must have a fogman.” The man smiled and walked past the boys without even glancing at them. “I can finally sleep.”

 

 

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