Sally was home alone, although she wasn’t completely alone.
It was the day before Halloween (revelers of the season would call it Devil’s Night) as the sun began to drop below the trees.
She looked like any young woman in the mid nineteen-seventies; with her long straight hair, fashionably oversized glasses, and tight bell-bottomed jeans. But, there was something unsettlingly different about her.
Black and white photos of her youth, neatly displayed in countless albums, detailed a lovely girl with a joyful smile and bright eyes. The little, beating heart of her family one would assume.
Sally had been wildly popular in her school days and attracted the attention of many young men. She had talent, charm, and that smile that told you she was destined for a whirlwind career in Hollywood, the fashion magazines, or sold out theaters.
But it was Devil’s Night and destiny had other plans.
One of her suitors really caught her attention. He was handsome for the time, with his unkempt, floppy hair and scraggly beard. He wore a denim vest over a plaid shirt and his jeans were just a little too tight, although that’s probably what attracted her to him.
Sally may have thought he was “the one”, his name was King after all, but after this night of nights she’d never see him again. And neither would that presence that had been with her for the last several months.
The past month in particular had been very difficult for her. She couldn’t shake the presence that was with her day in and day out. It didn’t speak to her, yet, but it let her know it was always with her.
She sat alone in the old, Victorian style home that her parents inherited from the landlord when he passed away at 101. It was a very large house, painted stark white, and although the town talked of it being haunted, she had never seen any proof that spirits lived within its walls.
It’s hard to say what Sally was thinking about when the banging began, but one would imagine she was contemplating that handsome young man and how he’d selfishly changed the course of her life before disappearing for good.
The banging was so intense. It startled her and she couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from. Was someone knocking on the front door? She wasn’t expecting anyone and her mother had instructed her not to open the door for anyone.
Devil’s Night in the 1970’s was not a night to open doors to strangers, especially in the southern parts of Michigan where the hooligans were routinely starting fires and breaking out windows.
But, the pounding upon the door was desperate, as if someone needed her help. Sally made her way to the door and despite the warnings from her mother and the hair creeping up on the back of her neck, she opened the door.
The man, barely able to stand upright at the threshold to the home, was covered in thick, coagulating blood. He looked like he’d stepped directly out of a Hitchcock movie and with what little breath he could muster he begged her to call for help.
Sally didn’t know it at that moment, but when she called for help it would be for both her and that man at the door.
Something about the sight of the injured man, perhaps the horrific nature of his wounds or the massive amounts of blood leaving his body, set off a chain reaction of events inside her. All of the pain and uncertainty of the past months was about to come to an end.
When Sally woke she was in the hospital. Her parents were there, along with her sister and brothers (and even some of their children).
She had been through a lot that evening and was surprised to see the look of joy on their faces. They were excited that she was awake and they had someone to introduce to her.
The nurses at the hospital referred to him as “Freddy the Freeloader”, perhaps a reference a Mile Davis tune, but more likely due to the fact that this 10 pound little boy had stayed balled up inside of her for a month longer than he should have. It wasn’t a terrible month though, for either of them, as she had survived solely upon hot fudge Sundays.
It’s been almost 50 years since that Devil’s Night when a bloody neighbor showed up asking for help after his wife shoved him through a plate glass window and most of the people who called him “Freddy the Freeloader” are long since gone, but that 10 pound little baby is still here and he’s lived a life beyond her wildest imagination, I’m sure of that!
Sally got sidetracked for a few years after Freddy showed up. Being a single mother at 19 isn’t easy. She had loving parents though who never lived more than a football field away from her. They stood beside her as she struggled and although it took awhile, she’s a boss now!
I love you Mom, thanks for bringing me into this world, no matter how scary it was for you.