Ding Dong Death

Why did I agree to this? I couldn’t have been in my right mind. I mean, what sane person would think this was a good idea? Mr. Jones was already a grumpy old man, I’d just be adding to his grumpiness by ringing his doorbell and bolting off. I could see him pelting every passerby with the gravel in his garden after this.

The guys and I had carefully hand-picked a house for each other to play ding dong ditch. Five guys with four houses each. We wouldn’t know what house we got until it was our turn. We went one by one in rotation until we got all our houses. The houses seemly got worse with every round. Now, there I was with the worst house in the neighborhood on my last go.

I stood in front of Mr. Jones’ step, palms sweating. My friends egged me on from the edge of his driveway. I could faint. As I placed my foot on the first step, it creaked. Each step creaked louder as I went— as if an ominous warning, you know like the music from horror films.

When I got to his door my heartbeat raced then slowed. My breath was shallow. I turned to look at my friends and waved my hands to let them know I wasn’t going to do it.

I heard Jerry say, “Go on you chicken!”

Liam made clucking noises and walked around like the skittish poultry.

“Darn it!” I was in this all the way. As I lifted my finger, it shook in mind air. When I touched the doorbell I could feel my pulse pounding through my digit. After I pressed it, I stood still for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. I was well aware of how the game worked but somehow, I was frozen.

“Run!” I heard Tony shout.

I turned around to find that all my friends had zoomed down the street and around the corner. I went to follow them but felt a force drag me backward. I gripped the door frame as I sunk into an abyss of darkness. Before I knew it, I was pulled on my bottom and the door slammed shut in front of me. A figure blocked my exit.

“Why you trespassing, boy?” A gravelly voice bellowed.

I felt a whack on the top of my head. “I wasn’t, sir. I was looking for my friend’s house.” An obvious lie.

“Your friend? You mean one of them that shot across the street? Now, what tall tale you telling me? I see you walk by my place every afternoon—you know you don’t got no friend living here.”

Mr. Jones turned on the foyer light, replacing the grim area with blinding brightness. He whacked me over the head again. I thought canes were used to help a person walk, not to beat up teenage boys. He raised his cane as if to hit me once more.

“Okay. You got me. Please stop hitting me with that thing.” I rubbed my scalp.

“So, what you want: money, to rob me?”

“No! What? We were playing ding dong ditch. It’s a game where you…”

Mr. Jones cut me off. “I know what it is.” He muttered as he started walking towards his living area, leaving the door free and clear.

I got on my feet then looked at the door then at Mr. Jones. I could escape but curiosity got the best of me. “Is it true you eat kids? Like devour their flesh?” I followed him.

“Do these look like they can devour anything?” He lifted his top lip, revealing a mouth of missing teeth. “I do happen to devour chicken livers. That’s what I was about to cook before you came.”

“That might be worse than eating humans.” I shuttered. “Where are your children?” I asked as I peered at the blank walls of his home.

“‘Ain’t got none.” His tone was harsh but in a sad way.

“Is it because you ate them?” I ran my palm against one of his kitchen shelves, clearing a mountain of dust.

“I ‘aint got none ‘cause I never made none, you jerk!” He hissed.

I was taken aback. I’d never been called a jerk before especially by an old man. “Sorry, just making small talk.”

“Shouldn’t you be going back to your friends?” He placed a few chicken livers on a cutting board.

“No. I’m good.”

“You like harassing people?”

“Not particularly. The guys came up with the idea, I just followed along.”

“What’s the point.” Mr. Jones slowly cut the livers into tiny pieces.

“Fun. To see how bad you can freak each other out. Your house is the worst house. No offense. Everyone is afraid of you.” I couldn’t help but turn my nose as I watched him.

“You know, I was a prankster back in my day. How about we play a little trick on your friends. Where are they now?” He had stop cutting.

“They should be at Jerry’s. Unless they stuck around to see if they could hear my blood-curdling screams.”

“How about we head over to Jerry’s. We’ll need some of this chicken blood and…” He paused. “That watch on your wrist, as long as you don’t mind getting gunk on it.”

“Oh, you’re serious? Sure, I guess. Get them back for leaving me to my doom. Again, no offense.”

With my watch in a blood-soaked paper bag, we headed to Jerry’s. Mr. Jones attached a note that read, If you step on my property again, you’ll be next! It was genius.

I rang the doorbell and took off behind a bush where Mr. Jones waited for me. We could hear shrieks and squeals coming from Jerry and the boys. Mr. Jones laughed his toothless laugh and slapped his knee with one hand as he held onto his cane with the other. I guess he isn’t such a bad children eater after all.