The Haunted States of America by Solomon Hughes

Author:Solomon Hughes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

- NEBRASKA -

FACELESS FRED’S CULINARY FATE

BY KATHY RYGG

Simon adjusted his glasses so they perched higher on the bridge of his nose. He squinted at the tiny print on the yellowed newspaper articles framed on the wall in the hallway of the Speakeasy steakhouse in Holdrege, Nebraska.

One headline from 1904 read: “‘Ghost’ Causes Three Long Pine Postmen to Quit.”

Another article, from 1890, read: “Engineer Stanton and Fireman John Maroney, of engine no. 34, are much mystified by a supernatural appearance which has appeared before their engine for the past two nights…”

Simon turned his attention from the articles to the life-size mural of a man on the wall next to them. He wore blue overalls and an orange shirt and had wispy brown hair. But he had no face. Just empty shadows where his eyes, nose, and mouth should be. Yet he seemed to stare straight into Simon’s soul.

The clang of a dropped pan in the kitchen startled Simon. He turned and nearly collided with an elderly man holding on to the end of a mop handle stuck in a yellow bucket on wheels.

“Sorry … sir.”

The man stood still like a guard at Buckingham Palace, his disapproving glare unwavering.

“I was just on my way back from the bathroom and stopped to read the articles about the ghost,” Simon explained.

“Faceless Fred,” the man said. “The articles are about Faceless Fred, the man on the wall.”

Simon turned back toward the faceless mural. “Why doesn’t he have a face?”

The man leaned on the end of the mop handle. “This building used to be a general store that Fred owned in the late 1800s. He ran with a bad crowd and made even worse decisions. His wife, Jane, got fed up with it all. She killed him, cut off parts of his face, and dumped his body in a well near the building. He’s been haunting the area ever since.”

Simon grimaced. “Have you ever seen him?”

The man rolled the bucket closer, its squeaky wheels producing an eerie echo in the hall. “Just once. His faceless stare was like an icicle stabbing my heart. I painted this right after that happened as a reminder to never let my guard down around here.”

Simon’s belly churned from nerves. “What do you think he wants?” In every scary movie Simon had ever seen, the ghost always wanted something.

The man shrugged. “What all ghosts want. Revenge.”

“Are you ever worried he might hurt someone?” Simon asked.

“We’ve had plenty of employees who claim that Fred throws pots and pans at them in the kitchen.”

Simon wondered if the dropped pot he’d heard had been Faceless Fred.

“Now we make sure everyone who works here knows about it up front. It’s even part of our interview process: ‘Do you have restaurant experience? Are you able to work evenings? Are you okay with ghosts throwing pots and pans at you?’” The man snickered. “Don’t worry. He’s never done anything to a customer.” He pushed the mop bucket toward the restroom door, then glanced back at Simon. “Yet.”

Simon peered at the faceless mural and shuddered.

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