Evil Returns

About two-and-a-half years ago, when I was living in Richmond, I wrote a column about something in my neighborhood that scared me to death virtually every morning. It was something so creepy, so freaky, so downright scary, that I eventually found myself slithering out my front door, crawling to my car on my belly, and driving away as quickly as I could...not even daring to put my headlights on until I was out of the neighborhood.
I had forgotten that daily fright, as I have lived in Hampton for over two years. But something happened this morning that sent cold chills, once again, running up and down my spine. I stayed in town last night...at my mother's house. I should mention that my mother lives right across the street from the house in which I lived back then.
But over the past couple of years, I had, as I say, about forgotten about the daily ritual, which I used to confront every morning and about how scary it was. So, this morning I was unprepared for what was about to happen when, in the pre-dawn darkness, I walked oh so innocently and unsuspecting out of my mother's front door. And then I heard it...again...after all these years.
Perhaps I should let you read what I wrote back in May of 2005, so as to help you better understand the horror I encountered as I headed to my car this morning. Read on...

FROM MAY, 2005
I got scared this morning. There's something, or really, somebody, that is scaring me most mornings, and, while I'm a little hesitant to talk about it, I think it might be therapeutic to do so. I'm hesitant, because I'm rather ashamed to say that a sweet little old lady is scaring me. But, let me tell you about her, and you tell me if you think my fears are irrational.
There's a little old lady, who evidently lives in the neighborhood. I say "evidently" because no one seems to know where she lives, but she wanders the streets in the neighborhood each morning. Now, I'm not talking about some homeless person, just wandering aimlessly.
No, this lady is dressed to the hilt at 6:00 AM, and she strolls through the neighborhood taking the neighbors' newspapers from their front lawn to their front door. Sounds nice, huh? But I don't think a harmless elderly woman would display such dedication to doing that. She scares me so much, I stopped my subscription to the paper.
This lady is out in rain, sleet, snow, whatever. And she always has this cheery greeting. You're probably still thinking I've got the problem, but wait, there's more.
It's like this woman senses that I'm getting ready to leave the house. Regardless of what time I leave, she's walking past my house. And before I even see her, I here this "Good morning." I'm at least two decades her junior and my mind couldn't react that quickly. If I look out the window before I open the door, she's not there, but as soon as I open the door, I hear her greeting, and, somehow she's standing in the street right in front of my house.
Somehow, she knows when I'm about to open the door. It's not just in my head, I know she knows.
But what really freaks me out is the Stepford-Wives-like way she greets me. It's friendly enough, but it's always the same, almost mechanical, "Good morning...How are you this morning?...How's your family?...Have a nice day." I think that if I told her my wife had gotten hit by a truck, she would follow it up with "Have a nice day." In fact, maybe I'll try that tomorrow. But, it'll be my luck that she's really just a sweet little lady, and my response will freak her out.
I guess the only thing I can do is leave before the sun comes up, slithering on my belly from the front door to the car. The only problem with that is I'm afraid no matter what time I leave the house, I'll here her cheery, "Good morning." I don't think I could handle that in the dark.
Really, the only thing for me to do is to lie low, stay indoors for a few weeks, and see if she goes away. I'll have my computer with me. So, I'll keep you posted. But, a word of caution, before you leave home, check for little old ladies. Believe me, they're out there!

That's what I wrote then. But, since I've been away, I had all but forgotten about "The Newspaper Lady." So, I walk out my mother's door this morning. It's still dark. I haven't a care in the world...except for all the things I normally worry about. I no more get off the front porch, when I hear it. SCARY ORGAN MUSIC GOES HERE.

"Good morning." I shriek. I start back towards the house. But, I'm not sure from where that evil voice eminates. All I can do, besides becoming paralyzed with fear, is squeak out, "Good morning."

"Have a nice day," she says in her horrifically evil way. I see her shadowy form creeping down the street...looking, no doubt, for some other aging old man to frighten.

"You too," I squeak as I dash for my car. How long will the madness continue? I can feel my life and my sanity spiraling downward from this point on. Because, you see....she's baaaaaaacccccck. So have a nice day.