The vinyl banner looked cheap enough, in keeping with what Cecilia remembered of Forgeton standards.
"Time Capsule Opening 2 p.m." it announced in simple block letters. And smaller print below was also "Part of the Forgeton Bicentennial Celebrations". Cecilia squinted out the car window at the banner and the pagoda it limply hung over. She never thought she would be back in "Foggertown", at this ratty park, in this rattier town square. Let alone be here as this burg's "Special Guest of Honor."
"Made it just in time, Aunt Cecilia," the pert teenaged girl announced from the driver's side. "Glad to be back home?"
The old woman glared over at the WAY too sweet girl and just managed to tone down her scowl before she answered.
"This hell hole ceased to be my home when I was your age and left it for college!" Cecilia snapped. Then she sighed and turned away a moment to gaze back at the slight crowd gathering around the park's pagoda. "I'm sorry, Lubelle, you don't deserve that. I appreciate your driving an hour to Ashville to pick me up at the airport, especially since we'd never met."
The young woman reached out a tentative hand and placed it on Cecilia's shoulder. The pertness toned down, Cecilia's grand- niece smiled and shyly spoke back.
"Aunt Cecilia, any excuse to be out of this CRAP hole and see Asheville, even driving through, is a treat for me." She gestured out the car's windshield at the miniscule festival going on in the park. "I'm treating this celebration like a going away party; I start classes at Carolina next week. Don't tell Mama, but I don't plan on coming back for Thanksgiving, or ever, again!"
Cecilia smiled, the first one she'd spared for this homecoming. "My, that is a nice surprise. Whoever will carry on the Dodger legacy if you go?"
"Please, Great-Aunt sweetie; I know what this town did to your granddaddy and our whole family. I've got bigger dreams than keeping the family curse alive." Cecilia smirked at the girl's na?ve reference to their shared curse.
"Now put on your best Sunday Baptist smile, here comes our esteemed Mayor to greet you."
Cecilia turned back to the passenger window. Before she could prepare herself, the door was jerked open and a grinning toad of a man was sticking a flaccid looking hand out at her.
"Cecilia Dodger, it is an honor!" the balding gray suited toad announced as he wrapped a sweaty palm around hers, pulling her not as helpfully as he imagined out of the car. "Not often we get to welcome back a descendant of one of our Founding Fathers to our fair little town!
"I am Wilfred Foggert; your granddaddy and mine founded the mill that brought Forgeton prosperity! We went to school together, if you remember- "
Yes, I remember you, Willy, Cecilia thought. Remember the times you and your pack of inbred redneck dogs used to chase me behind the bleachers at the high school. Just one of the uncherished highlights of her time in this garbage town. She'd try to tell Daddy what you tried to do, but he would just sigh and weakly reference how the Foggerts led a "charmed" life in this town. Grandpa would say be thankful the Dodgers had enough "charm" left to keep Will Foggert and his ilk at bay?
"So," Foggert continued. "What say we get on with the ceremony and see what gifts our grandpappys buried in that capsule for our town to enjoy!"
He turned to address the crowd.
"Everybody! Join us at the grandstand so we can open the Forgeton Time Capsule! Strike up the band"
And Wilfred strode away from Cecilia with the rest of the onlookers, while the "band" (a recording of county music) started blaring from the cheap sound system. Cecilia regained her breath before turning back to her niece. Lubelle took her aunt by the arm and tenderly guided her toward the pagoda.
"Sorry I couldn't keep him from doing that," the girl apologized. "That crooked slimeball is close to the top of the list of things I'll be glad to see in my rear-view mirror next week."
Cecilia opened her handbag as they walked and drew out a folded sheet of paper. The paper was fairly new but the words that were copied there from an older original were ancient and well-rehearsed. "I'm only here to fulfill my grandfather's dying wish. Then I'm hoping everything will be avenged?"
"Wait, what?" Lubelle asked, slowing them down to a halt. "What do you mean? Avenged? Aunt Cecilia, just what are you here to do?"
Cecilia looked into the younger woman's concerned eyes, measured what she found there and made a quick decision.
"When I was ready to leave this dump for college, my suitcases were packed a month ahead of time. Have you packed yours, child?"
"Well, mostly," Lubelle said, slyly grinning. "I've already got two bags of essentials in the front hall closet; in case I have another argument with Daddy about going and want to get the hell on out?"
"Listen, Lubelle; listen and don't think about what I'm saying. It'll take too long to believe it, anyway; it took my Granddaddy all my life to get me to believe it and accept it could be real."
"Real what, Aunt Cecilia?" Lubelle asked, scared as well as concerned now.
Cecilia glanced up at the podium on the pagoda, where Wilfred was revving up a "Glory Days" speech. She turned back to the girl and fixed her with a spell-casting gaze? Literally spell-casting. The girl stood entranced as an aura of unknown origin seemed to halo her great-aunt while she spoke.
"I'm sure you've heard all the colorful stories about how much of a crackpot your great-granddad was. Always dabbling in the big 'mysticism' fads going on at the turn of the century. Well, there was more truth to the stuff he was studying than most people ever realized. He did dabble in 'black arts' as they'd say; not just him, but also his business partner. Old man Foggert learned as much as Hiram Dodger did, and used what he learned to bring himself good luck and others bad.
"But that wasn't enough. Foggert decided he wanted to summon an actual demon from Hell; learned all the incantations, gathered all the right sacrifices. BLOOD sacrifices! And finally tried it."
"And failed, I hope," Lubelle whispered. To the girl's terror, Cecilia shook her head.
"It was the last act Foggert ever did, bringing that devil over to our side. It wasn't a heart attack that killed him that night, like the local paper said. WHAT killed him is why they held a closed casket funeral."
"But the demon? Did your granddaddy stop it?"
"Tried to; he'd gotten to Foggert's place too late to stop it crossing over. But he was able to cast a spell to catch it and imprison it?"
"Imprison it where?" the girl whispered softly. Then had a realization and jerked her gaze around at the pagoda where the crowd was gathered.
"Hiram was in charge of what was going to go into that time capsule, as part of the town's Centennial anniversary celebration. When they crack that concrete slab by the pagoda and open the box, most of what they'll find will be surprisingly dull-" The aura dissolved as Cecilia mused further.
"Bunch of old photos, poems written by the Sunday School, hats and dresses made by the old mill? and a tin of Prince Albert pipe tobacco.
"Lubelle, go home, grab your suitcases from the hall closet; get in your car and drive like hell. DON'T be in town by the time they jackhammer that slab off, dump that box, and let 'Prince Albert' out of the can!"
Lubelle clutched Cecilia's arm. "No, come with me! Yeah, this sounds crazy, but I also believe you! I've seen too many evil things in this town NOT to believe you! You shouldn't be here either when that thing gets out!"
"I'll be fine, child? I hope," Cecilia explained, looking again at the paper. "Granddad couldn't be here for the next Centennial, so, he made one more spell for the demon-
"Before that tin gets opened, I have to speak this spell. I'll claim the words are some Cherokee dialect, like anyone here'd know the difference.
"Then anyone who has a good heart and never harmed others will be protected?."
Cecilia looked at Lubelle. "Child, you know this town; do you think that spell will really protect many people here?"
Despite her terror, a bark of a laugh came out of Lubelle's mouth. She kissed her aunt and ran back to her car. Cecilia waved as the vehicle tore out of the town square, not knowing if the girl looked back in the mirror. She turned as her name was called over the loud speaker.
"Miss Cecelia, would you care to join us for the 'opening' ceremony?" Foggert called out. "There's more events in our Centennial Festivities, and we're running out of time!"
"Yes, you are running out of time," Cecelia agreed as she walked toward the pagoda.
End