Vacation

I sat on the patio by the hotel pool, basking in the sunlight and sipping tea, laptop open on the table in front of me. This week-long writing retreat was just what I needed. I love my wife and kids, but its hard to get anything done with them around. I'd hit my stride; the words were coming out smooth and fast. I only looked up when I heard voices and the slam of the gate.

A family of four had arrived. The son, around nine years old, was complaining about going to the aquarium instead of the water park. The teenage daughter took out her cellphone, and her mother snapped at her.

“No phones on vacation. You know the rules.”

“But Mom! That guy's on vacation, and he's on his computer!” She pointed at me.

The woman stomped over to my table. “Sir, do you mind putting away your laptop? You're setting a bad example for my daughter.”

“You're not serious.” Her expression told me she was. “Look, I'm a writer. I'm on vacation so I can write. On my laptop. I'm not stopping what I'm doing because you don't want your kid to have screen time.”

The lady threw up her arms in disgust. A heavy silver bracelet flew from her wrist and landed in the flowerbed. Chivalry took over, and without thinking I popped up and retrieved it for her. It was intricately worked, with a big turquoise stone. It felt an odd shudder as I picked it up.

“That's a lovely thing,” I said, hoping to charm the angry witch. “It's Indigenous craftsmanship, right?”

“I got it at an auction,” she said proudly. “Supposedly one of Custer's men took it off an Indian princess.” She took the bracelet from me . “I'm Phoebe, and this is my husband, Ray.” I shook her hand, hoping she wouldn't see my disgust.

Still grumbling, the two kids splashed into the pool. Before long, they were giggling and dunking each other. Then the boy said, “What is that?”

The kids were backing away from something red and caliginous spreading through the pool.

“Tia, Logan, get out of there, now!” Ray shouted.

The whole pool turned red, and I could smell it. Blood.

“I – I'm going to get a manager,” Phoebe stammered, and fled into the hotel. We hurried after her, and the door slammed behind us. I turned and gave it a shove. It wouldn't budge. Were we locked in? Leaving Phoebe and family in the lobby, I checked the emergency exits. All stuck tight.

I went up to my room. The newlyweds down the hall waved at me. I didn't want to start a panic, so I just waved back. I opened my laptop one last time and uploaded my work to the cloud. As I was wrapping up, I felt the floor tremble. Then I started hearing sounds.

A wail rolled down the hall. It was followed by a pounding, like hoofbeats, and the sharp crack of old-fashioned gunfire.

There was a knock on my door. Whitney and Josh, the newlyweds, were outside, looking as spooked as I felt. “Is that your TV?” Josh asked. “Can you turn it down?”

“It's not me.” Somewhere, someone screamed. Was it a hotel guest, or another manifestation? The ground shook again. Then the walls began to bleed.

“What is happening?” Whitney quailed.

“It's gotta be the bracelet,” I muttered. I'd done research on this area before, originally all Lakota tribal land. Whether it had been a sacred burial ground, or just somebody's home, the spirits of this place had been at peace, and then Phoebe had brought in a reminder of bad times and injustice, and awakened an old rage.

Another earthquake shattered the picture frames on the walls. A crack split the ceiling. The ghosts were going to bring the hotel down around us if we didn't do something.

I sprinted back to the lobby. Ray and the kids were cowering under a table. Phoebe was at the check-in desk, holding the manager by the shirt front and spewing crazy demands.

In the right situation, we are all capable of the most terrible crimes. I picked up a big vase and clubbed Phoebe over the head. She collapsed. I yanked the bracelet off her wrist.

I had the damned thing. Now what was I supposed to do with it?

“I just wanted a little peace and quiet!” I grumbled.

The largest earthquake yet rocked the building. A window at the end of the back hallway shattered. That was just the break I needed, pun intended. I dashed down the hallway and hurled the bracelet through the breach. The ground shook one more time, and swallowed up the cursed bracelet. Then everything went still. It was over.

So much for my vacation.

Your statue lady might be a boo hag. They are from a Gullah legend, from the Carolinas and Georgia, originally brought over from Africa by slaves. But there are probably equivalents all over the world. A boo hag is a creature that sheds its skin and travels as a spirit at night. It sits on you while you sleep, gives you nightmares, and feeds on your energy.

A boo hag can get in through an open window or any little crack. It doesn't like a certain shade of blue (look up "haint blue") and you can repel it by painting the top of your windows that color. Also blue glass bottles hung from a tree are said to trap evil spirits.