(Before reading this post, just so everyone knows when I say The Legend of Sleepy Hollow I do not mean the horror movie, I am talking about The Novella by Washington Irving, this story I am posting is not a horror story.)
Hi Everyone!:) (If haven't read the first part you can read it here)
Here is the next part of my short story series,
I hope eventually to write a novel or novella version of it.
Anyway here it is:
It was a dreary morning when I rode up to Sleepy Hollow, the place those say is haunted by ghosts. I don’t believe that, of course, and the headless horse thing everyone is talking about is total nonsense! Has anyone ever seen him? Of course, several have reported sightings of it, though no one ever lived to tell the story. As I hear, “Brom Bones,” as he calls himself, has said to have been chased by the headless horse thing and won the race… The only reason why I’m not telling you the whole story is that, well, Brom Bones did not act very gentlemanly when I rode into town. He mockingly laughed at me, and almost knocked me off my feet and said, “Oh another school master, I’m sure a ghost will get you.”
Of course, I ignored it, and walked away to the school house. As I walked I couldn’t help think of Mr. Brom’s words “another school master,” what did he mean by that? Sure, I had been appointed school master because Mr. Crane had “been kidnapped by the headless horse thing” as the townsfolk say, but I had a hard time believing that story. He probably found a place to be a teacher somewhere else…but that still didn’t explain why he had disappeared after the ball, leaving the horse, Gunpowder, behind, along with his hat. And how could have he gotten out of town without being noticed? As I was thinking
I heard the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, and the sound of faint words in the wind.
Suddenly, there was a a cry of “Don’t hurt us! Don’t give our head to the headless horse man!” I nearly dropped my books into a mud puddle. There in front of me were two girls, both wide-eyed and looking like they were about to scream. One had blond hair tied back into a long braid, and the other had brown hair that was braided into two braids.
“What?” I said, everyone in this town was practically obsessed with this “headless horse thing” idea. “Why would I do that?”
“Oh,” sighed the girl with brown hair tied into two braids.
“Beg your pardon, but I am not a ghost. And I will not give your head to this headless horse thing!” I said crossly,
“Actually, it’s the headless horse rid—“ began one of the girls.
“Also, I am your new school master, you may call me sir or Mr. Robertson, and I will have no talk of ghosts in my class. Do you understand?” I stated.
The girls nodded and followed me into the school house. Once all my students had taken their seats, I began making sure that everyone was there for the class.
“Amanda?”
“Here”
“Bob?”
“Here”
“Charles?”
“Here” …..
Once I had made sure that everyone was there from the letters A to Z, I began class.
“Nice to meet you all. I am your new school Master, Mr. Robertson.” I said. “Today we will be learning about—“ I began...A girl caught my eye. She was not paying attention to my speech. I walked over to her. “Miss, what are you doing?” I asked, snatching the paper from her hands. Surprisingly, it was a picture of myself, a very realistic looking drawing of myself, may I add.
“J-Just d-drawing a-a p-picture o-of y-you, f-for o-our wall, B-Because w-We w-want t-to r-remember w-what y-you l-looked l-like b-before y-you v-vanish” said the girl, pointing over to a wall covered with drawings of the past school masters.
“Well, we will have no drawing in this class” I said, and put the drawing in my pocket.. “No anyway, Lesson one mathematics”.
A boy raised his hand, “Yes” I grumbled.
“Well…you see our last school master taught us that, then he vanished, so can we skip math? Just so you don’t vanish?” he asked.
“No” I said. “And I reassure you, I am not going to vanish, or get chased by this Headless horse thing”.
“It’s the headless horse man!” said the whole class in chorus.
“Yes…that thing, now anyway what is 4 + 4?”…
—————————
After the school day was over and it was time for my pupils to go home… I was packing up my things when there was a sudden knock on the door. I nearly dropped the book on my foot that I was putting into my bag. Instead I quickly put it on the desk, and ran and almost stumbled towards the door. I was greeted by the farmer and Isabella, a girl who had been in my class.
“H-hello” was all I managed to say.
“Hello to you, too. Are you Mr. Robertson? Because my wife was wondering if you would like to stay at our house…until you get a house in Sleepy Hollow.” said the farmer, he looked somewhat sad when he said “house in Sleepy Hollow” I wondered why…
“Yes…I am Mr. Robertson.” I said, still half out of breath… “And I..I would definitely enjoy staying with you…Since…I still…haven’t quite…found a place to stay.”
“Excellent!” said the farmer, his frown turning into a grin… “We have a room that you could sleep in, and a bed, too.”
“Oh” I said, “Thank you, I will need to pack my books thou—“
“But on the other hand, I don’t know if you would want to stay in the room, for it might be haunted by one of the school masters.” The farmer went on… “And—“
“I understand…it might be haunted…” I groaned, It was nice of the farmer to ask me to stay with him in his house…but I didn’t want him to go on and on about a ghost that could possibly be haunting the room I was going to be staying in.
“And thank you, sir, for letting me stay with you.” Then I politely shut the door and began packing my things. When I was done, there was another loud knock on the door. I answered and it was the farmer again.
“Are you coming?” he asked.
“Yes I am…I just packed all of my books and I will need to lock the door.“
I walked out of the school house, and lifted the keys from my pocket, took the silver one and placed it into the door and locked it…
“Good…” I mumbled, then turned to the farmer. “I am ready to go.”
We began walking to the farmer's house. It was a breezy night, and as we walked by the trees leaves rustled in the breeze. Isabella (one of my pupils) seemed relaxed about it, even though shadows of trees loomed in the darkness. They seemed to be reaching out almost wanting to touch and grab you by your arm and drag you forever into the darkness. “So…” said the farmer, “Have you heard of the headless horseman—.”
“I have and I don’t believe a word of it,” I said.
“Oh” said Isabella. “i forgot to tell you father. He doesn’t believe in ghosts.”
“What? How absurd…How could someone not believe in ghosts…The last person who did why…the headless horseman payed them a visit…” he went on talking about what had happened to past people who had said they diidn’t believe in ghosts…
“Now anyway” said the farmer, when we had reached a clearing and light shone from between the trees. “We are here.”
I had a feeling that my adventures at Sleepy Hollow were just beginning….
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I hope you enjoyed reading this part of the story.
What do you think will happen next? What do you think of Mr. Robertson?
Love,
-Quinley
P.S. I will respond to the comments from my previous posts, soon.
