The Voices
Buddy Hennett was a typical middle-class American teenager. He lived in a split-level house in the suburbs with his mother, father, and younger brother, Tad. On weekdays he attended the local public high school, and on weekends he worked as a bagger and stock boy at Waldo's Food Market on Main Street. Despite his full schedule, he still found time to do his homework, keep his bedroom clean, mow the lawn every Saturday in the spring and summer, rake the leaves in the autumn and shovel snow in the winter.
When it came to school, Buddy was not the most successful student in Thomas Jefferson High School's sophomore class, but neither was he the poorest. He managed to earn C's and, when he put his best effort into it, he was occasionally rewarded with a B. In all fairness, his mediocre academic performance was not due to a lack of intelligence; it was just that he preferred playing sports to doing schoolwork. He would rather hit a baseball than calculate a square root, throw a game-winning pass than conjugate a verb or slam dunk a basketball than dissect a frog. Still, he tried. After all, wasn't a good education the key to a successful, happy life? That's what his teachers and parents told him, anyway.
It was the pursuit of a passing grade in science that led him to Stokes Point one October afternoon after school. Mr. Ogilvy, his science teacher, had asked his students to bring in samples of rocks in conjunction with a geology lesson. While most of his classmates would go out into their back yards or down by the riverbank to look for stones, Buddy decided to hike the mile-long trail up to Stokes Point for a sample of mica. As he trudged up the steep hill, he hoped the effort would be worth it. He needed at least a B to offset the D he had gotten on his last test. Not only did he need a C average to remain on the football team, but his parents had warned him that if he did not bring his grade up, they would lower his allowance.
As he continued his climb up the steep incline, Buddy's thoughts turned to a more pleasant subject: girls. There was one in particular that immediately came to mind: Deedee Rutherford, the daughter of Dr. Selwyn Rutherford, the Hennetts' family physician. Having grown up in the small, suburban town, the two teenagers had known each other all their lives; however, prior to the start of high school, Buddy had seen the doctor's daughter as an annoying, freckle-faced little girl with pigtails. Lately, though, Deedee was becoming a young woman, and Buddy liked the transformation.
When he reached the top of the hill, he leaned against a large boulder and rested several moments until he could catch his breath.
Darn, he thought, I feel like I've scored a touchdown from my own ten-yard line.
His heartbeat was returning to normal when suddenly he thought he heard a girl's voice. He turned around, but no one was there.
It must have been my imagination, he reasoned.
He had been daydreaming about asking Deedee to the Halloween dance, and perhaps his imagination had run away from him.
"Get away from me, you dweeb!"
Buddy froze. The voice was louder, and he could clearly make out the girl's words. Yet there was no one there and no place for someone to hide. Buddy was all alone on Stokes Point—all alone, that is, except for the voice.
Temporarily forgetting all about the sample of mica, his science grade, his allowance, the Halloween dance and even Deedee Rutherford, the frightened young man ran back down the trail to the safety of his split-level suburban home.
* * *
It was Archie Saylor, the teenager's best friend, who first noticed something seemed to be bothering Buddy.
"What's wrong with you?" Archie asked. "Is Deedee going to the Halloween dance with Wilbur Brewster?"
"Nah, it's not that," Buddy replied, hoping his friend would drop the matter.
"So, what is it, then? Come on, spill the beans."
"I went up to Stokes Point yesterday after school to look for rocks for science class."
"You must be kidding me!"
Archie, a first-string linebacker on Jefferson High's football team, had far more brawn than brains and could not understand why someone would hike a mile up a mountain trail just to get some rocks.
"When I was there," Buddy continued, "I heard a voice, but there was no one there."
"What did you do? Get beaned by a line drive?" Archie teased.
"This is no joke. I'm deadly serious."
Although he hated the hike up the steep trail, Archie had agreed to accompany Buddy to Stokes Point. As the stocky teenager sat panting on the large boulder, the voice spoke again.
"If you don't knock it off, you little creep, I'm going to tell Mom you were visiting adult websites at Billy's house."
"There it is!" Buddy declared excitedly. "I told you I heard a voice."
The linebacker's face paled and his eyes widened.
"Where do you suppose it's coming from?" he asked.
"I don't know. I've been giving the matter a lot of thought, and I think radio waves might be bouncing off these rocks."
"Radio waves?" Archie echoed. "Wouldn't we be hearing music then? Who would broadcast a girl talking about spider webs?"
Buddy shrugged his shoulders.
"It was just a thought."
* * *
After football practice the following day, Buddy and Archie were so deep in conversation about the mysterious voice at Stokes Point that they did not see Deedee Rutherford splinter off from her cheerleading squad and head their way.
"Maybe we should tell the police," Archie suggested.
"Tell the police what?" Deedee asked as she came up behind the two boys, taking them by surprise.
Buddy blushed and stammered, "Oh, n-nothing."
Archie, on the other hand, was eager to talk about the extraordinary experience.
"Buddy and I went up to Stokes Point where we heard this strange voice."
"What was so strange about it?"
"It was a voice without a body, you know, like Claude Raines in The Invisible Man."
"What did the voice say?"
"It sounded a lot like my sister arguing with my kid brother."
"Where did it come from?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out. Buddy thinks it's radio waves bouncing off the rocks, but I say it's a creature from another world, maybe the moon or the planet Mars."
Buddy, still blushing, remained silent, not wanting to appear foolish in front of Deedee.
* * *
I can't believe I'm doing this again, Archie thought as he tried to keep pace with Buddy and Deedee who were several yards ahead of him on the trail.
He did not vocalize his grievances because he was short of breath from the strenuous climb. When the trio finally reached the top, the high school linebacker nearly collapsed.
"Is this where you heard the voice?" Deedee asked.
"Yeah," Buddy replied, finally breaking his silence since Archie was unable to respond. "Just wait a second and you'll hear it."
Five minutes passed, and Deedee became impatient. Ten minutes later, her impatience turned to anger.
"Very funny, you two!" she cried with indignation.
"We're not pulling your leg," Buddy declared defensively, not wanting to ruin his chances of Deedee accepting his invitation to the Halloween dance.
"That's right," Archie added. "We really did ...."
There was a sudden burst of music—or at least something that vaguely sounded like music—followed by the voice.
"Hello. Oh, hi, Kyle.—Turn that down! Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Deedee's face lit up like a Halloween jack-o'-lantern's.
"Gee whiz! You weren't kidding; there really is a voice!"
"I told you so," Buddy said triumphantly. "We just can't explain it."
"Isn't the answer obvious?" Deedee asked. "This place must be haunted."
The two boys nervously looked around, fearful that an evil spirit would suddenly appear out of thin air.
"Wow!" Deedee exclaimed as the voice continued speaking in a softer, barely audible volume. "I can't believe I'm actually listening to a real ghost."
"I don't think it's a phantom," Buddy said. "The voice sounds too alive to be a ghost."
Archie laughed and elbowed his friend in the ribcage.
"What's a dead voice supposed to sound like?"
Buddy blushed again, embarrassed to be ridiculed in front of Deedee.
"Why don't we try to communicate with it?" the girl suggested.
Neither of the boys was eager to speak to the dead, but Deedee viewed the whole experience as an adventure.
"Hello," she shouted, hoping the voice would respond. "Can you hear me? Who are you? Where did you come from? Are you a ghost?"
The voice continued speaking to a silent companion, apparently unaware that Buddy and his two friends even existed.
* * *
The next day at school, Deedee cornered Buddy in the lunchroom.
"I'll wait for you in the parking lot after ninth period," she told him.
"Wait for me for what?" he asked.
"Aren't you going up to Stokes Point later?" she asked. "You weren't planning on going without me, were you?"
"I didn't plan on going up there at all."
Deedee stared at him with disbelief.
"Don't you want to find out who the ghost is?"
Buddy shrugged. Truth be told, he did not care if he ever heard that voice again.
"I've borrowed Cheryl's Ouija board so that we can contact the spirit."
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Buddy objected. "Our minister said we shouldn't get mixed up with the occult."
"What's the matter?" Deedee asked slyly. "Are you chicken?"
"No," he immediately cried, anxious to prove his manhood. "I'm not afraid of anything."
"Good! Then let's go up to Stokes Point after school and try to speak to the voice through the Ouija board."
Against his better judgment, Buddy agreed to hike up the mountainous trail for the fourth time that week. His heart was not in it, but he much preferred facing the supernatural to having Deedee think he was a coward.
When the dismissal bell rang at the end of ninth period, Buddy and Archie headed for the school parking lot. Deedee was already there waiting for them, holding her algebra book in one hand and the Ouija board in the other.
About four blocks from the high school, Buddy saw his kid brother standing outside the corner store, drinking a bottle of Coca-Cola.
"Hey, where are you going?" the youngster asked.
"We're taking a walk," his older brother replied, not wanting to clarify his answer any further.
Deedee was not so reticent.
"We're going up to Stokes Point to try to communicate with the ghost."
"Ghost? What ghost?"
"Didn't your brother tell you about the voice he heard?"
Tad looked at Buddy, who turned his head away.
"Can I go with you?" he asked eagerly.
"I don't think Mom and Dad would like that."
"They wouldn't want you going up there either, but you're going just the same."
"Why don't you let him come with us?" Deedee urged.
"Yeah," Archie agreed. "Let the kid tag along."
* * *
"I think I'm getting used to the climb," Archie announced, not nearly as winded as he had been on the previous two occasions.
Deedee set the Ouija board on top of a relatively flat boulder and instructed Buddy to put his fingers on the planchette.
"Can you hear me?" the young girl called. "Spirit, please talk to us."
Several minutes later they heard a voice—only this time it was that of a young boy.
"Carly's got a boyfriend. Carly's got a boyfriend," the voice sang, clearly trying to taunt someone named Carly.
"Shut up, jerk!" the now familiar voice—apparently Carly's—yelled.
"Ouch!" the boy exclaimed. "Mom, Carly threw a book at me."
"Ma," Carly's voice countered, "tell Jody to leave me alone. I'm trying to talk to Kyle."
"I don't think those are ghosts' voices," said Tad, a straight-A student with the reputation of being a young genius.
"What do you think they are?" his brother asked.
"I think we're hearing the voices of people who are living in another dimension. There's probably some kind of doorway here, maybe a tear in the space-time continuum."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Archie asked.
"We're hearing voices from another time, probably the future."
"I still think this place is haunted, and we're hearing ghosts," Deedee stubbornly persisted.
While the four young people continued to argue the possible origins of the two disembodied voices, a third—one belonging to a more mature female—silenced everyone with its authoritative tone.
"That's enough!" it declared sternly. "Carly, get off your cell phone and go set the table, and, Jody, you go and wash your hands. Dinner's almost ready."
"But Mom," Jody protested, "I'm watching my favorite TV show, and I want to see the end of it."
"You're not even paying attention to it," his sister contended. "You've been bugging me since you turned on the television. Besides, if that's your idea of a good program, you’re dumber than I thought. It's so lame. All the guys have crew cuts, and the girls have ponytails and wear long skirts and saddle shoes. If you want to see teenagers from the Fifties, why not just pop Grease into the DVD player? At least that's in color, not black and white."
"Never mind arguing with your brother, young lady," her mother rebuked her. "Get in that kitchen and set the table. Your father's car just pulled in the driveway. Jody, you get into the bathroom and wash those hands, and turn that TV off. We're all going to sit down at the table like a family and have a nice dinner together for a change."
Jody Englert picked up the remote control and pointed it toward the Sony plasma TV, hesitating a few moments to see if there were any further developments in his program—there weren't. Buddy, Deedee, Archie and Tad were still standing in front of the large boulder on Stokes Point, trying to communicate with the dead through a Ouija board.
Reluctantly, Jody pressed the power button, unaware that in doing so he brought Buddy Hennett's world to an abrupt end—for now, at least.
As Jody went upstairs to wash his hands, he made a mental note to tune in to TV Classics the following day. Perhaps the station would air the episode where Buddy asks Deedee to the Halloween dance.
Salem starred in his own TV show in the '50s, but the network later replaced him with a collie named Lassie.
