February 16, 2013

• The Dark Man In The Night

  

  I remember it was snowing.  I remember that I was 12 that winter.  And, I remember the Dark Man.

  It was the early 60′s.  It was just after supper and I was on my way home from getting a loaf of bread from our local A&P.  Winter nights came early, so it was dark as I took my time walking down the main street.  I loved walking in the snow and watched the small flakes drift by the streetlights.  Our local bank, just blocks from our house, stood alone on the corner, surrounded by trees and bushes.  As I passed the front entrance of the bank, I heard a man’s voice say “Hello.”

  He stood in the shadow of a large oak tree, leaning against the trunk.  His hair was as black as the long coat he wore.  A dark scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck; his hands were covered in gloves.  His eyes were like coal and he had white, pasty looking skin.  He looked older than my brother; younger than my dad.  At first, I thought he might be the man who lived across the street from us, but as he stood up straight and started to walk towards me, I realized he was a stranger.

  As I watched him approach me, I suddenly sensed something was not right.  I remember thinking that I should run, but I felt frozen in place and could only watch as he walked to the sidewalk I stood on.

  “Where are you going?” he asked in a soft voice.  I couldn’t answer, my throat felt tight and I just stared back at him, unable to move. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled something out. As he came closer, he held out his hand and I saw small red candies nestled in the palm of his glove, tempting me to reach for one and bring me closer to him.  Suddenly he stopped.  I watched his head turn in the direction of the corner of the street. I turned to see what he was looking at.

  Two nuns were crossing the road and heading our way.  They wore long, black habits and their stark white cornettes resembled two large doves spreading their wings to fly.  They were coming from the direction of St. Ann’s Church and heading towards the store I had left just a short time ago.  The younger nun smiled at me and both of them bowed their heads slightly in greeting.  As they passed, I found I could once again move.  I turned around and walked behind them, leaving the Dark Man behind.

  As the nuns continued their conversation, I kept waiting for a heavy hand to land on my shoulder, taking me away from the safety of the nuns.  After walking a short distance, I looked back at the place where I had left the Dark Man.  I saw him standing where I had been just a few moments ago, with his shoulders slumped, his hands stuck back in his pockets and a frown on his face.  He took one gloved hand out of his pocket and waved to me; beckoning me back.

  I turned around and followed the sisters all the way back to the A&P.  I watched out the window of the store until I was sure that there was no one lurking nearby. I took a different route home, a route that I would take to the store for the rest of the winter, a route that would not require me to walk past the bank in the dark.  I didn’t mention the Dark Man to my parents.  I was afraid they would think I was making up a story or laugh at me for being scared of a man who just wanted to say hello.

  I never forgot the Dark Man; he haunted my nightmares for months; he snuck into my thoughts for years and today, when I hear of a missing child, I remember how lucky I had been to escape the Dark Man in the night.

  This is a true story.  I’ve never told anyone; always fearing that no one would believe me.  But, it did happen and the memory does haunt me.  I’m hoping that, by finally writing about this night, the Dark Man will no longer chase me in my dreams.

  Have you ever had a close call that haunts you to this day? 

  • 1:04 pm
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