Wednesday, October 17, 2001
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Wednesday, October 17, 2001 |
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Urban legends for Fayette By BILLY MURPHY As cities go, we in Peachtree City lack our own Halloween story, an urban legend that we can pass from generation to generation. I can fix that. Here are two short essays of local lore (inspired by true events) to frighten your children, and maybe even you.
THE CURSE OF FLAT CREEK HOLLOW Amelia Crane twitched nervously. All the events of the last week had left her mind a little more than muddled. Women's tennis at Flat Creek Country Club was nothing to scoff at. Everyone took it seriously. Reputations were built and destroyed with the toss of a lime Penn #3. But even Amelia couldn't have foreseen the events of Oct. 31. It all started on a late, terror-filled night at Saks. Amelia made the tragic mistake of pulling a $300 tennis dress from the rack, just as Matilda "The Forehand," reached for it. From that night on, the nightmares began. Matilda had followed Amelia to the checkout counter and said, "I will get you for this." Amelia's heart grew cold, just as her hands grew sweaty. Everyone knew you did not want to cross Matilda "The Forehand." It's not that she would crush you playing tennis at the club. It was your reputation that she would decimate. Once, just for sadistic fun, Matilda told everyone that Tammy Grover bought her Nikes at Sears. An unwitting Pam Greer woke up to discover the rumor floating around that she had contemplated trading in her SUV for a minivan. She could hardly show her face at the club any longer. Amelia lived in horror. Would Matilda lie and tell people she bought her tennis dress from the discount table? Would people giggle as she passed, being told that she refilled Dasani bottles with regular tap water? Amelia didn't sleep for days. She had to face her demon. The day came. Matilda strode by with a grin on her face like she had just devoured a mouse. Amelia finally couldn't take it any more and decided to take matters into her own hands. She yelled at Matilda in front of everyone. "I hear you have last year's cell phone, Matilda. And I hear it's not dual band and it doesn't have voice activation!" Before Matilda could even respond, she noticed all the other ladies giggling and staring. Soon laughter broke out. They were pointing and whispering. Matilda had made a tragic error. She had left her cell phone in her car and forget to put it in her tennis bag which was an even worse offense than she had been accused of. It was over. Somewhere in the night, bats flutter and owls hoot. Matilda has moved away. And Amelia, well, she strikes fear in the hearts and souls of any woman that would cross her. Who would cross Amelia "The Return" Crane?
DAWN OF THE LIVING OBSOLETE Some say that "The Sickness" started in the water. A virulent strain must've made its way from the swamp we call "wetlands" into the population. Yet, was it environmental, this thing that attached itself to the brain stems of so many parents of Peachtree City soccer kids? Others would allege the disease was some sort psychological form of mass hysteria gone terribly awry. But, it was real, either way. The disease would bloom on Saturday afternoons in the bright light of day. Normal, mild-mannered moms and dads would turn into these grotesque monsters. As the little kids, kicked, ran and mostly fumbled, their parents were on the sidelines breathing venom and speaking curses that would make someone with Tourette's syndrome blush. Whether it was some dad trying to live out his glory years (that he never had) through his child or some mom putting on the pressure to "excel," the result was the same: Loud drones repeating forever the same utterances, "The ref is stupid!" "My child should be playing more!" "Soylent Green is people!" Doctors have found no cure for the terror. It is still here today, among us. The afflicted drive their cars on our highways and eat in our restaurants. The terror is Kroger-like in its consumption and dominance. My personal terror is that I, too, will give way to this sickness, for my daughter Olivia, just the other day, said... she wants to play soccer. [Visit Billy Murphy on the Internet at http://ebilly.net.]
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