The Four

 By Glen L. Bledsoe 

School was over for the day and the custodian came in to sweep and empty wastepaper baskets. I don't remember how the topic came up now, but the old man said, "I ever tell you the story about the Elk's picnic I went to a few years back?"

He knew he hadn't, but that was okay. He was about to tell a story and even though I had papers to grade I shook my head.

"Well, we were all standing there with plates full of baked beans, potato salad and fried chicken when just off to one side we noticed a group of people walking along a path dressed in formal clothes, but old fashioned. Like 1920's. You could see they were having a conversation. Even though we all stopped talking and stared, strain as we might we couldn't hear a word they were saying even though we weren't that far away. At one point the Four turned their heads sharply in our direction as if they'd heard something, but stared right through us as if we weren't even there. The path they were following made a sharp turn as it approached a stone faced outcropping. But instead of turning with the path the Four walked straight into the wall and vanished without a trace."

"Ghosts?" I said.

"I don't think so," the custodian said. "I think they were caught in an imperfection of time. Some bubble that briefly leaked light from their time into ours or maybe vice versa." Then he shrugged. "I got other rooms to clean. See you tomorrow."