Minnesota, 1955. Hoping to have a fun summer vacation after ninth grade, Eddie tries to reconcile his two best friends by taking them camping to search for a monster he’s heard is lurking in nearby Jay Cooke State Park.
When invited to pitch for Castle of Horror 9, I immediately thought back to my story “The Loneliness of Monsters” in Castle of Horror 7—set in the Tales of the Weird World War series developed by William Leisner and myself—and wondered if I should return to that 1950s time period. I love period pieces and mashing up genres. The theme for this volume was “young adult” and required teenage characters having teenage problems. Those elements mixed together in my noggin and became a simple pitch: Stand By Me, but with a monster instead of a dead body. Rather than going grim and dark, I decided to go for a nostalgic, PG-rated story. Like “The Loneliness of Monsters,” it was written to stand alone in the anthology, but it does follow on quite directly from my novella They Came from Beyond. “The Creature in Jay Cooke Park” first appeared in Castle of Horror 9: Young Adult, edited by Jason Henderson and In Churl Yo. Now it’s also available in Project G and They Came from Beyond—as one of two bonus short stories, along with “The Loneliness of Monsters”— as well my short story collection The Sad Rains of Mars. The excerpt below is from the opening scene of the story.
The Creature in Jay Cooke Park
It was just before midnight, under a moonless sky, and Pete was driving his girlfriend home. A sudden, loud thump made Shirley scream as the Chevy started wobbling down the road through Jay Cooke Park. “Just a flat,” Pete said, pulling the car over onto the narrow grassy shoulder. “Nothing to worry about.” “Except for my dad when I get home after midnight.” As Peter got out and hurried to the back of the car, he heard whispers in the darkness. He quickly opened the trunk, fumbled with the flashlight, then turned it on, shining it across the road toward the sound. It was probably only the St. Louis River splashing along its rocky banks. After a moment of flashing the light around, he shook his head at himself and pulled out the jack and spare. But then he realized where they were—right near the old pioneer cemetery. Hidden in the woods were gravestones sticking out of the ground like crooked, broken teeth. As he shined the flashlight that way, a whisp of fog floated like a ghost into the road. Pete shivered, then laughed at himself. He hadn’t believed in ghosts since he was kid.
Then . . . something yanked his arm.
“HEY!” JACK YELLED, jumping to his feet after I’d tugged on his sleeve. He staggered away from me on the uneven ground of our campsite.
Wayne laughed, slapping his knee. “He got you!”
“No he didn’t,” Jack said with a half grin, just visible in the dim light of the kerosene lantern I’d brought.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” I said, smirking at them both. But then they seemed to remember they weren’t speaking to each other. With a humph, Jack sat down cross-legged on the ground out of my reach. Wayne turned his back toward
Jack, got out his comb, and worked on the ducktail his wavy hair wouldn’t cooperate with.
With a sigh, I shifted around on the cooler I was sitting on and got back to the story. . . .
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