Chapter Two:

Constable Ichabod Crane

 

            Johnny woke up with yet another headache and with a new sore jaw. Wow, that girl can kick, he thought. He turned over and he heard leaves crunch beneath him. Funny, I don’t remember the Caribbean being this cold. He suddenly felt very afraid to open his eyes, but it had to be done. What he saw when he did was grass covered with autumn leaves, a wooden covered bridge which stood over a small brook, and a quaint white church. It was either dusk or dawn, he couldn’t be sure which it was. Johnny groaned, closed his eyes again and stuck his face in the cool grass. “Why did it have to be Sleepy Hollow?” He complained to the ground.

            “Constable Crane? Are you alright?” Asked a voice. Johnny screamed and jumped to his feet to face Baltus Van Tassel. Johnny was speechless. When you figure out something to say, for God’s sake say it in character! He warned himself.

            “Uh, I’m fine. I was just, uh…I thought I saw an odd looking footprint in the grass over here.” Answered Johnny. Good, they think you’re an idiot anyway, more idiocy can’t hurt you any. I don’t see you coming up with anything better. Stop talking to yourself. Then stop talking to me!

            “Oh, I see.” Said Baltus, obviously confused. “Well, I think it’s about time you came back to the house to have some dinner before you go out and um, investigate any more footprints.”

            “Very well.” Answered Johnny. I could have ended up here after the movie ended like I did last time, but NO, I have to plop down here in the middle of the movie! As he neared the Van Tassel house another thought occurred to him. Oh God! Katrina Van Tassel loves me! No biggie, they never even kiss in the movie, I won’t have to deal with it…I hope. No sooner had they arrived at the door then it was opened abruptly. Staying in character, as always, Johnny gasped rather loudly when the opening of the door startled him.

            “Good evening, Constable Crane.” Said Mary Van Tassel. “I hope you’re hungry.” She smiled warmly. Johnny held back a cringe. The evil Lady Van Tassel. He forced a smile.

            “Thank you, Lady Van Tassel. I am, as always, hungry for your cooking.” He said. She, too, forced a smile. They were not fooling each other. Johnny washed up and then joined them at the dinner table. Along with Mr. and Mrs. Van Tassel, of course, was Katrina, and also, thankfully for Johnny, was Brom Van Brunt, Katrina’s suitor. As long as Brom was still alive, which was hopefully for the duration of the night, Johnny was safe from the affections of Katrina.

            Although Johnny was not particularly hungry, he felt that it was in his best interest to stay in character and eat a large amount. He found this particularly difficult, considering that Lady Van Tassel’s cooking was actually quite atrocious. And what if she’s really as evil as she is in the movie? What kind of things would she cook with? Human brains from decapitated heads, perhaps? Oh my God, I did NOT just think of that! Well, this stuff here kind of looks like brains…Okay, enough! Focus on something besides your food. Think happy thoughts, Johnny, you’ll be okay. “Are you alright, Ichabod?” Johnny looked up startled. He was surprised to find that his face was wet. He had been sweating. It was Katrina who had spoken to him. Of course, she was the only person in the entire town who would call him Ichabod as opposed to Constable Crane.

            “I am fine.” He answered as he smiled politely. He realized that while trying to focus on something different, he had been looking in Katrina’s general direction, no doubt causing the illusion that he had been staring at her. “I am…a bit tired. That’s all. If you would excuse me, I believe that I will retire to my room for a few hours.”

            “Of course Constable Crane, you must be exhausted.” Said Lady Van Tassel in a sickeningly sweet tone. Johnny squinted his eyes and swallowed hard.

            “Yes, of course. I am quite tired.” Answered Johnny.

            “Katrina, can you accompany Mr. Crane up to his room? We wouldn’t want him to fall asleep on his way, now would we?” Joked Baltus. Katrina nodded.

            “No, I assure you, that will not be necessary. I’m sure I can make it on my own.” Said Johnny quickly.

            “Nonsense! It is no bother to me and you look very weak. Allow me to escort you.” Answered Katrina. Johnny nodded slowly.

            “Very well, then.” Katrina rose from her seat, as did Johnny to follow her. It occurred to him now that he hadn’t known how to find his room. There’s thinking ahead for you. Thank God she insisted on coming with me! Thought Johnny as they climbed the stairs. At the top of the stairs they reached a wooden door that was nestled in a narrow corner. Katrina opened the door and Johnny recognized the room at once. The wooden ceiling that came to a peak where the roof sloped upwards, the small bed in the corner and the desk by the window where he had put the evidence against Baltus Van Tassel, only to have it stolen and burned by Katrina. For a moment he actually felt at home. At home? You’re standing next to a woman who is wearing a late nineteenth century style dress and you’re not exactly up to date either. You feel at home? He shook his head, unwilling to argue with the thought.

            “Ichabod? Are you going to be alright?” Asked Katrina softly. Johnny looked up, surprised by the softness and caring in her voice. I may have to worry about her affections after all.

            “I’ll be fine, Katrina. Thank you very much. I’m afraid I am terribly tired. As much as I enjoy your company, I must ask you to excuse me.” Answered Johnny. God make her leave!

            “Of course. Sleep well, Ichabod. I hope you feel better. I’ll come up later on to check on you.” Smile you fool. Johnny smiled and nodded.

            “Good night, Katrina.” Katrina left the room and closed the door behind her and as Johnny heard her footsteps descend the stairs he let out a long sigh and plopped down on the bed. “I’ve got to get out of here.” He mumbled to himself as he put his face in his hands. “At the very least I must get out of this movie!” He said as he pounded his leg with his fist. He couldn’t think straight. Actually he wasn’t thinking at all. His mind was a complete blank slate. I feel like I’m in school again. At least that was a thought. At least I could try to find out where I am in the movie. Brom is still alive, therefore it must be before I found the resting place of the Horseman. They are not expecting me to leave or surprised that I am still here, therefore it must be before I ever saw the Horseman. But is Jonathan Masbeth still alive? How exactly did he intend to figure that out? Well, after the funeral he had told Young Masbeth to wake him before dawn so that he could exhume the four victims from their graves. Johnny took out his pocket watch to check the time. He smiled to himself. Hmm, nifty that I remembered that. It was 12:24 AM. Before dawn could mean any time. I guess I’ll have to wait.

Johnny shrugged, put the watch away, lied down on the bed and let out another long sigh. I bet that if there was a theme song with words to it I’d be singing it right now. Instead of the Sleepy Hollow theme song, of course, once again he found himself humming “A Pirate’s Life for Me”. Oh bloody hell you stupid ass, stop singing and get some sleep. Maybe you won’t wake up here. But I’m afraid of where I’ll wake up. You can worry about that later. Yeah, when I’m being mauled by a gang of narcotics agents, or being shot by a prostitute’s jealous boyfriend, or being electrocuted by my pregnant wife, or while I’m having my eyes drilled out. Let’s worry about it then, shall we? Shut up, wise guy, and just get some sleep.

Then he relaxed. Despite all the worry he felt he relaxed and could feel himself slipping away. He really was quite tired. A little natural sleep couldn’t hurt him any. Not the kind of sleep induced by a kick to the face. Johnny turned over and began breathing deeply and evenly, not asleep, but not awake. Finally the last bit of consciousness began to leave him, the sound of the creaks and groans of the house began to fade in his ears and his conscious thoughts began to melt into an incoherent jumble of vague feelings and images. Sleep…almost.

“Mr. Crane!” Young Masbeth came bursting through the door, crashing the wooden door against the slanted wall. Johnny shouted, sat up in bed and rammed his head against the wooden rafter just above his pillow. Johnny shouted again, not in alarm now, but pain.

“What the hell do you want?” Shouted Johnny, his voice cracking as he rubbed his head and looked at Masbeth in confusion and incredulity. Masbeth stood by the open door, hands clasped in front of him, head down and looking sheepish. The boy was quite eager, wasn’t he? Johnny instantly felt bad about yelling at the boy. That look of sympathy and compassion that his fans knew so well displayed itself on his face. “I apologize young Masbeth. You startled me, and I wasn’t quite asleep. Please forgive me.” Masbeth nodded.

“Of course, sir. Let me also apologize, I should have known better.”

“Of course! Now that all is forgiven let us get to work! Here is my bag and there is the door. Let us depart, we have much ahead of us. “ Johnny and Masbeth left the room and made their way down the stairs. Katrina had apparently felt that it was time to check on Ichabod and about to go upstairs when they reached the bottom of the staircase.

“Ichabod!” Greeted Katrina.

“Oh, Katrina!” Jumped Johnny. “Good evening…or morning, which ever you prefer this time of day be called.”

“I prefer to call it unreasonable.” Stated Katrina. “You were very tired and weak tonight, you should be resting.”

“I have no time for that now. After all, there is a murderer out there. Do you wish to be his next victim?” Katrina looked slightly disturbed. “I can assure you that I do not wish it.” Damn it, I’m getting too much in character. I’m starting to get romantic!

“Very well.” Katrina blushed. “Shall I see you tonight?”

“If you wish to see me, I shall be here.” Johnny smiled. “Excuse me once again, Katrina. There is much work to be done today.” Johnny moved to leave but Katrina blocked his path and brought him close to her. She would have planted a kiss square on his lips if he hadn’t turned his head. She kissed his cheek. Katrina then looked at Johnny and smiled sadly.

“For luck.” She explained. Johnny nodded. Great, what am I in Star Wars now? She doesn’t really look like Princess Leia. Johnny and Masbath exited the house, leaving Katrina alone and probably wondering why Ichabod had refused her kiss. The least you could have done was stay in character! It was an impulse! I couldn’t help myself, I didn’t mean to turn away! I think I’ve talked to myself enough for one day, don’t you? Quite.

“Mr. Crane, sir?” Asked Masbeth. “Where are we going?” You know, that’s a very good question. Why don’t you tell me?

“I need to exhume the bodies of the four victims.” Said Johnny. “Tell me, young Masbeth, who do we see who would help us with this task?”

“Mr. Killian, sir.”

“Take me there.” Johnny mounted his horse, Gunpowder, and followed Masbeth to the Killian’s home. The Killian home was just after the covered bridge. Johnny felt rather nervous going through the bridge, knowing that he would be coming back that way later on and that he would be closely pursued by Brom, dressed as the Headless Horseman. He had a bad feeling that he would wake up the next morning with another horrible headache and in another strange body.

“This is the house, Mr. Crane.” Said Masbeth as they neared the house. “They have a young son. You might be careful not to wake him.”

“Thank you Masbeth, I shall try not to wake him.” Johnny dismounted his horse, approached the door and knocked. “Mr. Killian! It is Constable Crane from New York. I shall require your help!” The door opened a few moments later. In the doorway stood a tall man with medium length dirty blonde hair.

“Constable Crane, you say?” Said Mr. Killian.

“Yes sir. Ichabod Crane, sent from New York to catch the killer.” Answered Johnny. Mr. Killian nodded and shook Johnny’s hand cordially.

“What can I do to help?” Asked Killian.

“Good man! Get another man or two who won’t mind helping and meet me at the graveyard as soon as possible.”

“What tools shall I need?”

“The kind needed for exhuming bodies and opening caskets.” Mr. Killian looked rather shocked by this detail, but all the same he nodded in agreement and went back inside to dress.

“Where to now, Mr. Crane?” Asked Masbeth.

“To the graveyard, of course. Lead the way, young Masbeth, I have a bad memory for directions.” Especially for places that I’ve never been before. It didn’t take them long to make the trip to the graveyard. It was placed closely to the town, and not far from the covered bridge. Johnny dismounted his horse again, located the graves that needed digging and marked them with a piece of chalk that he found in his bag. I’m going to be here for hours. It takes hours to dig a grave. So he waited.

Mr. Killian arrived about half an hour later with two men his own age. Johnny directed them to the graves that needed digging but otherwise sat by and watched them work. He had offered to help, but not wanting to stray too much from character it was a meek offer. Of course Killian and his men had rejected the help. They said they could handle it fine by themselves and that there wasn’t any need for Mr. Crane to exert his energy. Either they were being very respectful of his investigative talents or they thought he was a sissy. Either one would have done just fine for Johnny.

Hours later the exhumations were finished. Johnny had actually left the Van Tassel house at about 1:30 AM. It was a half hour ride to the Killian home, a fifteen minute ride to the graveyard and then another half an hour before the actual work began. They had started at about 2:45 AM and they were now finished at 3:37 PM. Johnny, knowing how the story went, ordered Killian and his men to take the body of Widow Winship to Dr. Lancaster’s clinic. Johnny followed them on horseback, as did Masbeth. When they arrived at the clinic, Johnny dismounted Gunpowder, opened the door of the clinic and lead Killian and his men, who were carrying the body of Window Winship, into the clinic.

“What is the meaning of this?” Shouted Dr. Lancaster as he jumped from his seat.

“Put her on the table! Pardon me, Dr. Lancaster, I need to operate immediately.” Said Johnny. Or something kinda like that.

“Operate? But she’s dead.” Said Dr. Lancaster.

“Yes, I can see that.” Said Johnny. One can only hope she is at this point. “What I mean when I say I need to operate is that I need the operating table.”

“Oh, I see.” Answered Dr. Lancaster feigning understanding.

“Excuse me, all of you. Thank you very much for your help Mr. Killian.” Said Johnny as he pushed them all outside. Once they were all past the threshold he slammed the door, leaned against it and heaved a sigh. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do?” He mumbled to himself. The last thing I want to do is cut her open. But there doesn’t seem to be any other choice. I guess not. Johnny took a deep breath and started walking towards the body of Widow Winship, but something stopped him. There at the table where Dr. Lancaster had been sitting was a jar of red liquid. Johnny picked it up and smelled it. “Ketchup? Ketchup existed in 1799?” Who knew? Johnny shrugged, put the ketchup down and picked up an apron. After putting the apron on, he picked up the ketchup again and started smearing it on his face, clothes and hands. As long as I don’t get to close to them they’ll never know its just ketchup. “Oh man, when I get home, or at least to a modern movie, I’m going to have a whole plate of French fries with ketchup.”

Once Johnny was done with the ketchup he found a white sheet that he covered Widow Winship’s body with and which he also smeared with ketchup. Johnny sat down at the table where he found the ketchup, replaced the jar and checked the time. It was 4:13. I’ll just wait here for about forty-five minutes. That will be enough time. Its autumn, almost winter, the sun sets early. It will be almost dark when I come out. Johnny put his feet up on the table and leaned back in the wooden chair and closed his eyes. The smell of ketchup filled his nose, but he didn’t care. He was dead tired and all he wanted to do was rest. Maybe if he fell asleep he wouldn’t have to go out there and talk to those old geezers who were waiting for him, and maybe he could avoid being hit in the head with a flaming jack-o-lantern. I wouldn’t hold your breath, buddy. I wasn’t planning on it. You better not.

Once again his thoughts started to fade, as did the smell of ketchup and the muted sound of conversation outside. The last thought he remembered was: Five’o’clock. And then the church bell in the nearby church began ringing loudly. Johnny jumped, meaning take his feet off the table and put them onto the floor, but only succeeding to push his chair and himself backwards as he let out a startled shout. “Shit!” He shouted as he sat up and looked around. “I need a handkerchief.”

Johnny burst through the door of the clinic to the street outside. Young Masbeth, Mr. Killian, Dr. Lancaster, Baltus Van Tassel, Reverend Steenwyck, Magistrate Samuel Philipse, and Notary James Hardenbrook were all standing outside waiting for him. Johnny stopped in his tracks when he noticed them all staring. What am I supposed to say?

“Uh…”

“What in God’s name have you done to her?” Said an alarmed Reverend Steenwyck.

“Oh right! I am finished.” Said Johnny remembering his line. “We are dealing with a madman.”

“What have you found out, Constable?” Asked Magistrate Philipse.

“There were not four victims, but five.” Said Johnny dramatically. “The Widow Winship was with child.”

“Oh dear God!” Said Dr. Lancaster. “That’s incredible, but how does this help your case, Constable?”

“I’m not sure if it does or not, but it is an interesting piece of information that may or may not lead to more. In any case, it may prove to be helpful.”

“Constable Crane, you’ve no doubt had a very long day. You’ve been awake since early this morning.” Said Baltus Van Tassel. “Why don’t you wash up and make your way back to my house so you can get some rest.”

“I shall, thank you Mr. Van Tassel.” Said Johnny, bowing slightly. “Excuse me, gentlemen. Dr. Lancaster, may I use your washroom?”

“Yes, of course Constable.” Answered Dr. Lancaster.

“Mr. Killian, if you don’t mind, can you please take the Widow Winship back to her grave?” Asked Johnny.

“Of course, Mr. Crane.” Answered Killian.

“You’ve been a great help today, Mr. Killian. I am greatly indebted to you for that help.”

“It was my pleasure, sir, and my duty.”

“Then you are a good man. Take care of your family and get some rest.”

“I will. And you get some rest too, sir. You’ve had a long day.”

“So have we all.” And then Johnny turned around dramatically and went inside the clinic to clean up. Never in all my life have I wanted French Fries so badly. When he returned from cleaning up, Masbeth was waiting for him with Gunpowder. Johnny smiled slightly.

“It was very kind of you to wait, Young Masbeth, but not necessary. You should get some sleep.”

“So should you, sir. You need sleep more than any of us.” Said Masbeth. Then he looked down at his shoes. “Besides, I remembered that you have a bad memory for directions.” Johnny smiled and put a hand on Masbeth’s shoulder.

“Then you did well, Masbeth, but I believe that I will be able to find my way tonight. Go home and get some rest. I will probably need you tomorrow.”

“Very well, sir. Goodnight.”

“Good night, young Masbeth.” Said Johnny as he watched Masbeth mount his horse and ride away. You idiot, do you think Brom would have ambushed you if Masbeth had been with you? Yes, actually, I think he would ambush me if anyone short of Katrina was with me. You’re probably right. Damn straight I am. Johnny mounted his horse and rode towards the covered bridge. He knew he had to go through the covered bridge to get back to the Van Tassel house, but he also knew that he would never make it to the Van Tassel house. He was just doing what he had to do to get the day over and done with.

As he crossed the bridge he could hear the loud hoofsteps clopping on the wooden floor of the bridge. He heard the frogs that seemed to be calling “Ichabod”. Thank God it doesn’t sound like they’re saying “Johnny”. Now that would be scary. It wasn’t long before he heard the neighing of a horse and echoing hoofsteps from behind. A moment later there appeared Brom in a rather good Horseman costume. He really does look headless. Okay, Brom or not, I’m out of here. I’m right behind you!

Johnny brought Gunpowder to a full run as Brom came after him. Johnny followed the path through the dark foggy autumn woods and then stopped when he couldn’t see or hear Brom or the horse he rode. Johnny turned around on his horse to look behind him. Come on, any minute now. He’s going to come right out of that fog and throw a flaming jack-o-lantern at me, I know he is. Johnny heard a stick snap in front of him so he turned around for a quick glance. The minute he looked back a flaming jack-o-lantern was flying straight for him. He didn’t even have time to yell. The pumpkin hit him square in the head and he fell off his horse into the soft, crisp autumn leaves. He saw Brom ride away and he heard the laughter from him and his friends, and then he saw and heard no more.

 

Just to let you know, Ketchup really did exist in the 1700’s. It didn’t really matter, but I looked it up before I used it in the story. ;-)

 

Read Chapter Three