August 22, 2003
Gertie Higgins looked out the window just in time to see the fog rolling in. She knew fog was evil; it had a way of taking things and people. Gertie’s husband Oscar had been taken in the fog on his way out of town early one summer afternoon back in ’83.
Satisfied that the windows were secure, she wedged rolled towels along the bottom of the door. Then she sat in her rocker, Bible in hand and began to pray. She thanked God for giving her enough time to secure the house and ended with a plea that all those she knew had made it safely home before the fog got them.
These weren’t the foolish ramblings of a demented old woman. Over the years Gertie had seen the town’s population dwindle to 592. Those who left had all disappeared in the fog. Gertie was the only one left who openly spoke about this.
Only two days ago she had spoken to the sheriff about it for the umpteenth time.
“Sheriff, you know it was the fog that took Oscar, those Barnett boys and everyone else.”
“I do thank you for bringing this to my attention Missus Higgins.” As he walked away he muttered, “Lord save me from crazy old ladies who live alone.”
“It’s true I’m old and live alone. Only the good Lord knows iffen I’m crazy or not, but there is nothing wrong with my hearing. You shame your mama talking like that, Bobby Lee Baker.” (more…)