The police officer was a state trooper who driven out from Central Square's station. It was still early into his shift and this call sounded messy with a lot of ick factor. Upon seeing the mess, he silently agreed with himself that yes, this would be untidy. He pushed his hat back to scratch his forehead and resettled his uniform.

First, he went to the woman seated in her car sipping from a water bottle. An EMT had been checking on her but the woman stated firmly she would be alright. The paramedic gave him a look that said, “This is some fucked up shit!!?” and backed away to allow the officer to do his work. The state trooper gave a sad half smile of acknowledgement to the EMT and then looked at the woman. Her eyes were red from crying and her face streaked. The hair resembled clumps of seaweed. He saw her in the illumination of the dome light and the woman's heart shaped face was what his sister called "ugly crying" but from it was the serious green eyes that dared him to comment on it. The trooper said to her , “Mam I’m officer Riley, I have to ask you a few questions.”.

He could tell she was one of those few guilese people who were the embodiment of the cliché “ bad things happen to a good person.”

The woman nodded, “Of course you do, please ask away.” The woman looked anxious but not terrified she looked him in the eyes and her jaw was set firmly to exude that she was a tough woman and she would not collapse in a heap…again.

“Let’s start with your name and how you came on this accident.” He asked while pulling out a notepad.

Officer Riley sniffed slowly so as to not look to obvious about it. He smelled the normal things like the fact she enjoyed an herbal shampoo and a perfume with a hint of jasmine. She also smelled of fear and anxiety. Having a sensitive nose was a blessing and a curse somedays.

Piety hoped the officer didn’t have to work in the damp wet night with a cold. She glanced up to see him sniffling. She gave his face the once over and saw that besides the man being very tall he had a very square jaw with a small scar just above his lip, he must have had a hair lip repaired as a child. The officer obviously didn’t care about the imperfection since he didn’t grow a moustache to cover it. His hair was dark and cut short in a military way.

“My name is Piety Jones and I was coming home from work and I almost hit a horse standing in the road.” Piety looked at him sniffing again, “What the hell! He must have a cold or allergies something.” She thought, “ I sure as shit hope I don’t get it.”

“Where do you work?” he asked scribbling in the notebook

“My shop in Pulaski, it’s called Bell, Book and Candle. I close at 5 pm in the fall and winter.”

“When did you call 911?” one eye bow had rose, he knew now who he was dealing with now. Talismans was very well known, especially for the woman who had started the business.”

“As soon as I parked the car, after having a heart attack at almost hitting a horse.”

“What made you look for the victim?” He asked still writing things down.

“It stood to reason that if a horse in its harness is just standing there, a cart or buggy must be someplace with a driver. I thought I saw someone standing by the road but it must have been me thinking I saw someone.”

Officer Riley nodded, “Did you see any other cars exiting the area?”

“No, I was quite alone on the road. No one passed me one way or the other.” The officer jotted notes and Piety did her best to not lose her self-control and start weeping again. Then again, she said to herself it’s not every day you find a dead man on the way home. She shivered and the police officer called for a blanket for her. The EMT got one from his ambulance. It might have had some wool into it but for the most part it it made he feel less vulnerable to the elements and what could be out there. The officer…Riley, yes that was his name, had leaned in to hand off the blanket. He smelled of the woods and pine trees. That was good aftershave she thought in a out of context stream of consciousness. Piety sat watching as if this was play on TV or something and not really happening. Riley saw the horse off to the side of the road and in the dark its damage was now unseen Now the policeman paused bringing his flashlight to bear on the hindquarters of the animal he did see the long gouging tears on its flanks. The man who had slumped close to the ditch beyond any type of medical intervention his head was 90 % decapitated. The policeman sighed and turned back to see where the women who had call this in was at. She was still in her car and he said softly, “Are you okay to drive?”

“I only live a mile away as the crow flies officer Riley, I can manage.”

“Can I call someone for you , serious what you saw ,it’s quite a shock.”

“I live a lone since my aunt passed and the one lady I could call is up there in years and it’s dark out already.” Ok Piety thought that was bullshit, her friend Glenda didn’t act like she knew she was an old lady. Glenda Peabody got an itch to get up at 2 AM drive to the all-night Walmart and shop she would. Calling Glenda she would hustle down from Pulaski no matter the hour, however she would want to make tea and go over and over what happened. The officer looked like he wanted to argue but instead said, “ Ok mam , hang out with us a bit more .”

The next ten minutes passed as a blur waiting for the cop to tell her she could go. Finally, she was told to drive slowly and carefully home. Piety did so hoping her dog had not lost it on the floor. The poor thing had been in the house well over 8 hours. Piety came home, triggering the garage door and parking the car inside. She could hear the nails on the door and the pitiful whining of a dog under pressure. She let her husky mutt out un-securing the dog door. She had locked him in after smelling a skunk close by and didn’t want him going out and getting sprayed. Finnegan, she saw through the kitchen windows had his leg up and was steadily peeing for what seemed to be many minutes. The calico granny cat strolled in from the hallway, sat and eyed Piety reproachfully. The cat would look at her negligent owner then at her empty food dish her tail swishing like a lazy pendulum. The younger cat was more vocal in her complaints that little black kitties should never be starved. She knelt and petted the cats as they meowed and begged, “Is that better Miss Cally and Miss Nix?” Piety filled the dishes feeling silly as she apologized to the pair. They still had a ring of dry food in their dish, only a barest amount of the ceramic dish showing. Her aunt would have called that “cat empty”.

Letting in the dog and she filled his dish and looking at the time it was only 8 pm and yet she felt like it was midnight. Piety reported to her bed not caring about her own dinner. She was exhausted mentally and physically she had cried a river and in her entire life she had never found a dead person. Not only a dead person but one whose head had almost been torn off. She did her best to lay down, close her eyes and stop thinking of the events of the evening but the image of the man’s head lolling back showing the slashed neck and gleam of white bone showing through.

She had put on pajamas and laid on her bed for what seemed like hours. It had been in fact 40 minutes.

“FUCK!” she said knowing that horrid image was seared on her brain. There was the matter of a man who looked like an Amish farmer who had been standing at the top of the ditch looking down at the wrecked carriage and then he was…gone. She got up and went to the kitchen opening the cupboard above the stove and pulled down a well-aged bottle of rum. Normally Captain Morgan only was called up for action during the holidays when a rum cake was baked. She poured a shot and downed it quickly and then took another. Piety rarely drank and with the fourth shot down she felt floaty and a bit tipsy. She patted her dogs head and on this second attempt she got in bed and was joined by the old granny cat who purred like an outboard motor. Slowly petting the ancient feline Piety fell asleep.

The morning came with the sound of an overly enthusiastic rooster that Piety wished just once they would sleep in. Then again, Coq au Vin was vigilant on watching his ladies as they clucked and foraged enabling the girls to free range all day. Piety clicked on her bed side lamp resolute to do her morning routine and not think about last night and the dead Amish man. She turned on her Spotify to have music going that would occupy her mind and let out Finnigan who tore off in a burst of speed to the beginning of the woods and started to anoint his favorite trees and bushes with pee.

With the pink wellies on her feet and the barn coat over her pajama’s Piety loved living in the middle of nowhere. Her phone played S.O.B by Daniel Rateliff and Piety opened the metal trash can she kept the chickenfeed in and got the scoop out to fill the coffee can. The morning was crisp, and the sun had not yet broken the tree line around the cabin. With the tin of feed in one hand she sprung the latch to the coop and filled the old pie tin she used for her four-fat buff Orpingtons, their creamy feathers fluffing and setting as they flapped and strutted down the ramp to the ground. “Morning Hilda, Zelda, Sabrina, Salem and Mister Coq au Vin” the birds clucked, and the rooster swaggered to the wood pile to ascend the stump that Piety used to make kindling and let loose a mighty crowing. The hens still pecking like manic typewriters ignored him. Piety smiled, “Tough luck old man, they love breakfast just a bit more than admiring you.” The rooster clucked and redoubling his efforts, paraded with his coppery wings flapping, still trying to capture the hen’s consideration. The hens paid him no attention.

She went in leaving her wellies in the mud room not wanting to track in muck from the yard. She congratulated herself on not thinking about the events of last night. The phone still played her music as she made sure the dog door was unlocked so Finnigan could come in when he was done.

Piety went to her coffee maker and as she touched the start button a male voice said, “Excuse me, can you see me?”

Piety jumped, her heart pounding, she had been alone a second ago. Her eyes were not fooling her, there was a man in dark clothing from another era and he was holding a dark colored hat. “No wait”, she thought looking at him, “not so much another era, but clothes of the Amish”. There was an Amish man in her kitchen.

She screamed “get out!” throwing her mug absurdly at him. The mug exploded behind him and she knew that it should have hit him. Piety’s phone now played “closer” by nine-inch nails it was her unknown caller ring. The man frowned, “Perhaps you could turn that off so we can talk?” He gestured loosely at the phone in her hand.

Trembling she turned the volume off. The man held his hands up trying to look non-threatening and said, “Please I’m not trying to scare you. I just seem to be pulled here and I think I might be dead.” Piety stared at him, even with the beard and page boy haircut she could see that he was a young man. Yet he seemed unearthly pale and his outline blurred a bit. She felt cold like the temperature had just dropped in her kitchen and soon she would see her breath. Goose flesh creeped along her arms.

“I am losing my damn mind” Piety stammered, and the man frowned at the casual swear word he said somewhat mechanically, “I remember coming home from selling my goods at the Tops Market … in the parking lot I mean… and then you touched my face, only my face felt so odd…” he took a step closer, “ No wait there was something before you touched me…” His features distant and searching as if trying to play back a movie in his head. 

Piety slid along the countertop unnerved at this man who was somehow paler and his lips were turning a greenish blue hue, she said hysterically “Get out, get the fuck away from me.”

 Suddenly aware that she was alone in her night clothes with no protection. The dog door opened and Finnigan came in his ruff stood up and growled low and menacingly. The Amish man acted as if the dog was not there. Maybe he was unbalanced, did he just wander in people’s homes? did his family know he was out wandering? The dog pressed against her leg his growl reverberating in a steady rhythm. “Fucking go!” she stammered

With a vigorous head shake the Amish man to begin admonishing her use of foul language. Then his head toppled from his shoulders , the small scrap of skin paused the head about midway sternum, then snapped. The head was tumbling into  Yoder's hands. The mouth moving like a fish on dry land. Piety felt faint. Her dog still at her side now went from growling to barking up a storm and Granny cat was no place to be seen.

Piety was convinced she had lost her mind and was seeing dead Amish men in her kitchen. She felt sick and dizzy and with no more thought than “oh shit” Piety hit the floor.

Piety came around to a tongue bath to her face administered by her husky, pushing the dog away she sat up rubbing her head. Piety was convinced that she had somehow lost her mind. She looked anxiously around and did not see an Amish man holding his head in her kitchen. The bottle of Captain Morgan was still out from last night, but she hadn’t had a drink since she had tried to go to sleep. This must be the result of late-night drinking and a poor night’s sleep? Yet there was the shattered coffee cup on the floor. She stood shakily getting the broom to sweep up the shards of the mug. The dog uncharacteristically was quiet and stayed within a foot of her now.

Piety decided that maybe temporary insanity is best cured by going to work and focusing on something else. That and maybe there would be no apparitions at work. Yes, that was it she would just go to work and place her stock orders and forget this ghost nonsense. Right! Yes, this was overactive imagination and too many shots of Captain Morgan last night. A small voice said in the back of her mind, “You are so full of shit.”