![\"Footloose](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/08\/Footlose.jpg?resize=640%2C356&ssl=1\")
<\/h2>\n<\/h2>\nby E. W. Farnsworth<\/p>\n
It was dark, and the party was going to start on the other side of the freshly-plowed south pasture anytime. Bob impatiently stomped through the damp earth toward the Thompson Farm.<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on, Sis. We\u2019ll be late.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t keep up, Bobby. You go right ahead. Becky Thompson will be waiting for you. I know how to cross the pasture well enough by myself.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBe careful of the skeletons Farmer Jones unearthed when he plowed through the Confederate mass grave today. Bones are sticking up everywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNonsense. You\u2019re just saying that to scare me on Halloween. I\u2019m not going to listen. And I\u2019m not scared either.\u201d<\/p>\n
Sue pulled out her bricked cell phone. She could not even make its pen light work. Across the field, she thought she saw a light, hovering and blinking.<\/p>\n
\u201cBobby, are you still out there?\u201d she called.<\/p>\n
Her brother did not answer. A dog howled at the full moon.<\/p>\n
\u201cAt least I have moonlight,\u201d she thought. Then the beacon she was following winked out.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I follow the sound of the dog?\u201d she wondered.<\/p>\n
She took a deep breath and set her teeth. In a steady rhythm, she made her way through the clods toward the distant light. She lifted her ankle-length skirt.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s probably futile. The hem will be soiled. My shoes are ruined already.\u201d<\/p>\n
When she stumbled, her hands flew forward to break her fall–in vain. The earth was a cushion. She got back on her feet and rubbed off the dirt.<\/p>\n
Continuing, she felt a branch underfoot. It snapped. She reached down and wrapped her hand around a bone.<\/p>\n
She was on the rise of the mass grave holding a long-fallen soldier\u2019s bone. A frisson of fear ran down her spine. She muttered the first words that came to mind.<\/p>\n
\u201cThough I walk through the valley of the shadow of death . . ..\u201d She laughed hysterically.<\/p>\n
She fell again. Something caught her foot. It would not let go. She struck the place where she was being held. Bone met bone.<\/p>\n
She threw the bone away and slid her hand down to find a bony hand around her ankle.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet my ankle go! Please.\u201d<\/p>\n
She was now using both hands to pry the hand apart. She scrambled to her feet and pulled her foot back, but the grasping hand would not let her go.<\/p>\n
Bobby, if you can hear me, say something!\u201d<\/p>\n
She strained forward as the hand became an arm, a shoulder, a backbone and a skull. It held her struggling ankle until she pulled an entire skeleton from the soil.<\/p>\n
By moonlight, she saw the skull cocking to get a better view of her. It seemed to be smiling now that it was free.<\/p>\n
The bones rose and released her foot. She edged out of the skeleton\u2019s range and ran. The skeleton followed.<\/p>\n
They reached the party and joined the others in their antic dance of death.<\/p>\n
At midnight, Sue, Bob, Becky and the rest returned to their graves.<\/p>\n