This novel takes place in the little SW Washington coastal town of Chinook, and involves a jilted bride, witches, a cursed groom, a haunted church, and the infant who brings them all together again.
THE LEGEND OF BILLY BEAD
By Cynthia L. Moyer
THE LEGEND OF BILLY BEAD
Love was lost and a heart grew sour,
due to one groom’s roving eye.
He should’ve been wise, swallowed his pride
and apologized to his bride.
Because she lost her mind, then he lost his life,
there was no second dance.
The bride waved her wand and said the words;
he never stood a chance.
Now when the moon is full and the ocean mourns
and the owl flies in the sky,
pain and grief fill the lonely church
where Billy Bead does lie.
Chapter 1
There they go again. Right across my backyard, through my wash I hung on the line just this morning. Oh! Little William stepped right in my potater patch. I can’t believe it! Stinkers. They know better than that! I s’pose they’re heading for the church again. Billy Bead was sure makin’ a fuss last night. He woke me up twice with all his noise.
Petal Cook finished drying her hands on her favorite tea towel, the white one with the embroidered cherries along one edge. It had that nice waffle-weave texture to it and felt so soft on her rough hands. She thought it looked pretty snappy, too, and brightened up her ancient kitchen. Lord knows it needed all the help it could get. The poor house was built in 1887 and new paint was just at the top of the to-do list.
She took one more look out the window that sat above her kitchen sink and clucked her tongue at the sight of the four boys running through the field next door. John mowed just the day before and Petal could still smell the fresh-cut grass in the air. She grabbed her sweater from her favorite chair and headed for the front porch. She knew where those boys were going. Why should this day be any different.
Taking her regular seat in her rocker on the porch, Petal pulled a quilt over her legs and settled in to watch the boys. She admired the way their tiny legs could run so fast. It had been a long time since she could move like that. They reached a small group of bushes next to the church then crouched down as though planning their attack.
Built before she was born, in another century, the church still stood despite decades of relentless storms blowing in off the Pacific Ocean. The paint was gone, much like her house, but the bones were solid. It would stand. At least for as long as it needed to.
Uh-oh…Matt’s making his move.
Matt Fitzgerald, the oldest of the boys at eleven, was tip-toeing across the grass toward the church. He hesitated twice before continuing his journey. Ten more steps. Eight more steps. Five. He stood at the bottom of the back stairs leading up to what was once the kitchen, but hadn’t been used in generations.
Nothing sadder than a church no longer used for worship. Probably should just bulldoze the place, but the timing isn’t right. I just can’t do it.
Matt was frozen on the bottom step. Petal knew it would be a miracle to get him up those last four steps alone, but she’d seen this dance before. She knew he had back-up.
William stepped out from behind the bushes. Hard to tell if he was nervous, but she could swear she saw him shaking even from this distance and without her glasses. He looked several times in every direction before running across the expanse to stand behind Matt at the base of the stairs.
Now, Petal knew William was about ten years old, and she thought the twins were maybe eight, though they were big for their age she’d heard her great-granddaughter say. Their names were Manny and Bryn, and they ran together once summoning up the courage. They held hands across the field and hid behind William when they reached the church.
Now what, boys? You do this nearly every week. What do you hope to find in there anyway? Poor Billy Bead. They just can’t leave that poor ghost alone. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though, what with Billy being the local celebrity of sorts around here. He’s right up there with Jake the Alligator Man. Although, a photo with Jake is a helluva lot easier to obtain than one with the local tortured soul. But God knows we don’t have much else happening around here except worrying if the tourist dollars will be enough to see everybody through another winter.
A flash of light from one of the church’s windows caught Petal’s eye.
Here we go. Been some time since he’s pulled the light trick. Must mean business, poor bastard.
More flashes followed, not too bright, but enough to make anybody wonder, since the church had no electrical power. The naysayers always chalked it up to squatters with flashlights, but locals knew no human would last five minutes in that church. If you didn’t die from goosebumps the size of Texas, it’d be your heart racing eight million miles a minute from the fright of it all.
Billy Bead didn’t like visitors.
Even across the field, Petal heard the all-too-familiar scraping sounds. He knew the boys were close. His show was starting; the boys would soon be gone.
More flashes of light. And then a crash, like a chair being tossed through a window or into a large mirror. Petal couldn’t remember what all was in the church anymore. It’d been so many years since she stepped even one foot inside. She’d inherited the place as-is. Deed called for one dilapidated church, the resident ghost was free.
“What the hell are you doing in there, Billy Bead? Moving the furniture?” Petal shouted into the summer wind that smelled of blackberries and anticipation. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Dialing a number she could’ve dialed in her sleep, she studied the church across the field.
When someone answered, Petal only said, “You need to come over here, honey.” She turned the phone off and slipped it back in her pocket.
# # #
The boys, who had nearly made it to the top steps of the back porch of the church, turned tail and ran when that crash sounded. Screaming the whole way for all they were worth, the three Kraiter boys dove behind the bush again, but Matt stopped before reaching cover. His head snapped up and he turned quickly back to the house.
A baby’s cry.
The unmistakable wail of an infant was coming from inside the church.
“What the hell is THAT, William?” Bryn’s cried.
“Shut it, Bryn! Both of you! Pipe down!” William slowly stood, as did his younger brothers. They all came out from behind the bushes again one by one and walked toward the Matt.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Matt said almost to himself.
“How’d a baby get in there?” asked William.
“I don’t know.” Matt looked at the windows of the church. There were no more flashes of light or strange noises. It was quiet except for the sound of the baby, who sounded pretty pissed off. “It’s quiet in there now. Stay here with them and I’ll go look in the window.”
“By yourself?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to look.” Matt walked to the bottom of the steps again and laid his hand on the rail. He listened for the sounds Billy Bead always made when anyone came near his church.
Nothing.
He went up one step, then another and listened. Still nothing. The baby was crying, but that was the only noise. One more step and he was on the porch, which was about the time he remembered the doors to the church were always locked.
BAM! An incredible noise rocked the rickety back porch and sent Matt to his knees. He covered his head with his arms as debris fell around him. He nearly fell down the stairs, but managed to keep his balance in the blast. He heard the other boys scream his name through the ringing in his ears.
Then all was quiet. The baby had even stopped crying. Matt peeked through his arms toward the back door, terrified of what he would see.
“Oh…my…God….”
The door had blown off the back of the church and was dangling by only the top hinge. As it creaked back and forth from the blast, the last of the dust settled, leaving an open doorway into the church.
“Holy crap, Matt! Forget it! Let’s go home!” The sound of William’s voice was far behind him as Matt stared into the gaping darkness of Billy Bead’s church.
It was the sound of the baby that snapped him back to reality. There was no way he was leaving now. He stood, determined to know what was going on. Brushing off dust and bits of blown-apart backdoor, Matt walked toward the doorway, praying the ghost stories were somehow all lies.
As Matt entered the back room of the church, his goose bumps went away. A feeling of peace flooded over him, despite the fact that it was everything that should have scared him to death. Inches of dust covered everything. Cobwebs got stuck in his hair.
And he could see now it wasn’t pitch black inside the church. His eyes just had to adjust to the filtered light streaming through the stained glass windows. The back room looked like it had been part kitchen and part store room. There was a lot of junk piled everywhere, but there was no baby.
Matt crossed the room and stopped at the door leading into the sanctuary because he couldn’t believe what he saw. The church pews were pitched and tossed everywhere like a giant game of pick-up-sticks. No human could have done that. The pews were solid wood and from the looks of the floor, had been nailed down at some point.
Across the walls up as high as twenty feet deep scratches marred the surface and reminded him of the marks that always happen on the inside of their barn door every time they have to lock up their male dogs when their bitch is in heat.
“Whatever is in here definitely wants out.” Matt looked from one side of the room to the other, and wondered where the baby was.
A tiny coo followed by a little cough came from the direction of the altar to his left. He walked around a rather beat-up upright piano all the keys had been torn out of, and saw the floor of the altar was littered with chunks of wood, pages torn from hymnals and, of course, piano keys. Right in the middle of the mess was a baby, naked as a jaybird.
No longer crying, the baby seemed to be playing with its toes. Matt walked over to it and bent down, his mind unable to wrap around the meaning of its presence.
“How did you get in here, buddy?”
The baby looked at him then peed straight up, hitting Matt in the chest.
“Nice.” Matt looked down and made a face at the warm, wet spot that was now growing across his jacket. Since it was dirty anyway, he pulled off his hoodie and used that to wrap the baby in. He scooped him up and headed back the way he came.
As he was leaving the church, he waited for the wrath of Billy Bead to protest his taking of the baby, but nothing happened. The church was silent. The only noises were coming from the baby, a strange combination of cooing and crying out, gurgling and yawning. But as soon as Matt’s feet hit the grass, the baby grew quiet in his arms.
The boys ran up to him and they all peered at the infant. He stared right back.
“Why was there a baby in the old church, Matt? Whose is it?” Bryn’s big brown eyes peeked over the jacket blanket.
“And what is that smell?” Manny wrinkled his nose.
“Well, I don’t know why there was a baby in the church, guys, and that is the smell of pee. The little turkey pissed right on me.”
“Gross!” the twins said at the same time.
“Now what? What do we do with a baby? Should we take him to the police?”
“I don’t know, William.” Matt looked at his best friend. “But I think it’s Billy Bead, come back to haunt someone. Did you see his eyes?”
# # #
Petal saw the whole thing from her front porch.
Blowing the door off the back of the church was a new one. She hadn’t seen him pull that stunt in the seventy-five years she’d been living next door. And on top of that, he’d nearly killed Matt.
“Wonder what’s got into you today, Billy Bead?” Petal’s blue eyes bounced between the back porch of the church and the boys in the yard. They’d be okay. Billy would never hurt the boys.
Would you?
“Come on, Billy Bead. What’s wrong with you? First all that racket last night, a body couldn’t even sleep. And now tearing off your own back door? What’s next? You better leave those boys alone. Don’t make me get up outta this chair.” She wagged one bent finger toward the church.
Her heart tripped a beat when Matt walked toward the back door. “Is he going in there? What on earth is he doing?”
She stood, the faded quilt falling to the floor at her feet. She moved to the top of her own porch steps, holding the rail for support while her heart ran full of worry for little Matt Fitzgerald.
Billy Bead has never hurt a soul yet, so why would he start today? What the hell are those boys doing? They better not follow Matt up into that church.
She descended her steps, wishing her knees worked like they once used to.
I have to remember to get Cicely to help me put a ramp on this house. Maybe she can bat those eyes of her at John and he’d help us out. Man’s gotta be able to do more than mow the damn lawn.
In the time it took Petal to reach her front walk, Matt had returned from inside the sanctuary. She saw him come out of the back door of the church and her heart sighed with relief until she saw he was carrying something wrapped in the red jacket he’d worn into the church.
She began the slow journey down her walk lined with her favorite pink tea roses. The weeping willow needed a trim, as its branches brushed her frail shoulders as she walked by.
Matt looked up at that moment and they stared at each other. He started walking, with the Kraiter boys in tow, heading straight for Petal at a brisk walk. Matt carried the bundle as though he were afraid to drop it, but also as though he didn’t want to hold it anymore. They met at her mailbox. The fancy one she insisted on, with cherries painted on the side.
“Miss Petal!” Matt was out of breath and shaking. “We found a baby in the old church!”
“A baby, Miss Petal! We think it might be Billy Bead!” Manny was tugging on her shirt sleeve, pointing at the baby Matt held in his arms.
“Billy Bead? Well, how can that be, boys? You ever heard of a ghost coming to life?” Petal smiled at the boys, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She hadn’t yet looked at the baby, terrified of what she might see.
“Oh, it’s him, Miss Petal! He blew the dang door right off the church! Didn’t you hear that?” Bryn pointed to the church where the door still hung crooked from its last hinge.
“Yeah, and look at his eyes! It’s Billy Bead!” William reached over and pulled the hoodie back so Petal could see into the infant’s face.
A sad round face with beautiful pale skin and puffy cheeks sat under a full head of wavy dark brown hair. A tiny dimple sat just off-center in the baby’s chin. Petal gasped when she saw it, but her blood ran cold when she looked into the baby’s eyes.
The left one was blue and then right one was green.
Jesus Christ on a cracker. Billy Bead.
“What is that smell? Did he wet himself?”
“Yes, Miss Petal. It’s all over my jacket.”
“Okay, then. Let’s get him cleaned up. Bring him inside, Matt.” Petal turned and walked into the house with the boys circling her like anxious moons. “Sit there on the couch, Matt, I’ll be right back.”
In her kitchen she grabbed some older towels, soaking one with warm water in the sink. She found the strength to wring the excess water from the towel and then stopped. Her hands were shaking. She gripped the edge of the sink and looked at the window, waiting for her heart to slow down.
Get a hold of yourself, Petal. You’ve been through this before.
Grabbing a roll of masking tape out of the junk drawer before leaving the kitchen, she returned to the couch and sat down next to Matt. “Let’s see this baby.”
Matt held the baby toward her, but she made no move to take him.
“Pull the blanket back and let’s wash this little guy.” Petal began washing the baby, leaving his business end for last. Once he was cleaned up, she wrapped her oldest towel around his tiny bottom, securing it with masking tape. “That should hold until we get him some proper diapers.”
“Don’t you want to hold him now, Miss Petal?”
She shrank back from Matt, never taking her eyes off the baby. “No, I might drop him. Cicely will be here soon. He’s come to meet her.”
Her misty eyes took in the button nose and rosy lips and she was tossed into her memories. When you’re ninety-five years old, you have more memories than anything else.
Billy Bead. I haven’t seen you in years. I hope you’re ready for another journey.
“He’s come for Cicely?” William moved forward and sat on the floor at her feet. “I thought it was just a story, about Billy Bead coming out of the church to be with people.”
“The last time he was out was long before any of you were born.” Petal stood and walked to the front window to see if her great-granddaughter was there yet.
“How do you know he’s come for Cicely?” Matt had scooched over and laid the baby on the couch next to him, but kept one hand on him so he wouldn’t roll off. But the baby began to fuss again. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. You’re fine. Shhh….” He looked at Petal. “Do you think he’s hungry or something?”
“What do ghosts eat, Miss Petal?” Bryn was sitting on her favorite chair, swinging his short legs to the beat the Bryn followed.
“Ghosts don’t eat, you doofus!” Manny punched his brother on the arm.
“Well, he’s not a ghost anymore right now, is he, Manny?” Bryn shoved him back. “He’s gotta eat something! He’s a flesh-and-blood baby!”
“Don’t worry. Cicely has all of that.” Petal spoke while gazing out the window. “She’s here.”
Petal watched her great-granddaughter come up the stairs. They’d left the front door open, so she just walked in. She stopped when she saw the room full of little boys and a squirming baby. “Hey, everybody.” She caught her great-grandma’s eye, “On my way over here I was telling myself Grandma Petal better have a good reason for calling me, and it looks like I was right. Is that a baby?” The baby began fussing at her question. “You mind telling me where you got a baby?”
“He was in the church, Miss Cicely! It’s Billy Bead!”
“William Kraiter, you wouldn’t be pulling my leg now would you. You know what we talked about in Sunday school last week…no lying now. God doesn’t like liars. You know Billy Bead is just a story.”
“It’s Billy Bead, Miss Cicely, I swear. Look at his eyes!”
# # #
