The Bell

When one is a strange girl, it's not unlikely that one would have strange memories. It only follows naturally, yes? But some memories are stranger than others, and so appears the memory of The Bell.

I was young then, only 10 years or so. No, I was 10 exactly. in fourth grade. It was Winter.

Every weekday morning that I couldn't avoid it, I must take the bus to school. It wasn't a bad bus, as buses go, but it was still a bus. I lived a long way out of town, and had to sit staring morosely out the window for 45 minutes, hoping no junior high kid would pick on me. The only way out - actually getting to school. Oh, the horror of it all!

As the bus made its way out of the country and into town, there were a few stops left. It would wind down some narrow streets in an old neighborhood that I was not too familiar with, aside from it being on the route. There were houses along side of a hill, and the land seemed to drop out of sight right behind them. There was thick vegetation and always a layer of mist covering the ground. I didn't realize it then, but this is because at the bottom of the hill was the river.

So every weekday morning, the bus would grind its way from Torrey street onto Union, then creep though the mist on Liberty to pick up my classmate, Rosalinda. On the corner - among the brush and trees and right before the land seemed to drop away into nowhere - there looked to be some construction going on. Not much really, just some scattered debris. Bricks, cement mixer, railroad ties and some other things covered in plastic. Whatever the construction was, it was going slowly, the stacks of supplies were always there . I had ample time to study the site - it usually took Rosalinda a while to run down the block.

I can't remember exactly when I first noticed the bell. I want to say I noticed it right away, but it's impossible to be sure, it was so long ago. Memory plays tricks. Was it always among the scattered construction debris, or did it just appear? When I did see it, I recall straining my eyes to see through the mist. That was a bell, wasn't it? Like, a large church bell, sitting on the ground? A church bell would have been quite unusual, especially in that place, but that wasn't what made me strain my eyes. Did that thing have a face?

I could swear it did. A large, orangey -colored church bell with a distinct face was just sitting there, looking unnerving in the morning mist. Every day, when the bus stopped to pick up Rosalinda, I stared at it from the window. It was just a little too far away to be absolutely sure that I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. Maybe it was some trick of light and shadow? Then again, it seemed awfully clear. But why, why, WHY did this bell have a (what was probably supposed to be friendly but ended up being creepy instead) face painted on it? It didn't make sense. Perhaps I was hallucinating? That seemed as good an explanation as any.

As an adult, I would have nudged someone and said "what the heck is that?" or asked Rosalinda about it - after all, she lived right down the block from the where the thing was lurking with its cheerful yet sinister grin. At ten years old, though, I was too self-conscious to say a word. As it was, my only outside confirmation that it even existed as an objective reality was months later, when a new girl sat next to me on the route She pointed at it as we passed: "look at the bell! It has a face".

Of course, by this time, The Bell...The creepy, creepy Bell...had assumed nightmare proportions in my mind. It was easier to ignore in the shady afternoon, but every blessed morning it just seemed to be gloating at me. 45 minutes on the bus was too long to spend contemplating this. I might have made some half-baked plan to confront the source of my fear, but no way was my mother going to drive me to a strange neighborhood for some undisclosed reason, and I certainly couldn't speak the dreadful Name of what haunted me. No way was I going to say "Mom, let's drive down Liberty street, I want to get a closer look at THE BELL. " Nope. It just wasn't going to happen.

So the school year passed, and at some point the bell was gone. I don't remember when exactly. It disappeared as it had arrived, lost to time. The next year, I didn't even take the bus to school. It became a hazy, if somewhat unsettling memory. Eventually, I had something of an explanation for the whole thing.

The construction site on the corner slowly developed into a high tower with water slides, down the hill to the river became a web of tube chutes and other amusements. The houses, including Rosalinda's, would disappear to make way for parking.The water park would eventually sprawl like a brightly-colored octopus with tentacles everywhere, but that first year it was just a tower. I'm guessing The Bell went at the top. Such an explanation I am very grateful for, because otherwise, I would still be wondering where the blasted thing came from.

I spent a lot of time looking for some image - if not that bell, then something like it. Or some report of another child completely unnerved by an anthropomorphic bell. Just to help in understanding why I was so spooked by this thing. Alas, I find nothing.

The only thing I have to offer is this....the bell, it looked a lot like Grimace.

See? I told you that thing was freaking creepy.

P.S. Should anyone who finds this blog post have any information on this bell or have a similar tale of anthropomorphic bell - inspired terror, please leave a comment. :)