My great-Aunt Bill passed away recently. Her real name was Glenna, but her grandfather, after suffering a stroke, could not pronounce Glenna and told her she would be called Bill. It stuck. Everyone, including her mother and husband, called her Bill. This was basically where the frivolity stopped with her.
My cousins and I spent a majority of our childhood in deathly fear of Aunt Bill. Her husband had passed away in the early 1980's and they had not had children. Therefore, when my great-grandmother needed a little help getting around Aunt Bill moved in. Everyone loved being at grandma Conley's. I lived in the same town and was always there. Therefore, Aunt Bill and I had to develop an understanding of sorts.
I understood to never change the channel when she was watching The Ralph Emery Show and to take off if started looking for "The Spoon" (a large wooden spoon that she kept hanging in the kitchen used for whacking the bejesus out of her unruly nieces and nephews). She, on the other hand, understood that my great-grandmother, Ida Conley, and I were BFF. Grandma Conley and I were going to lounge around in her gigantic bed reading, chatting, watching Trapper John M.D., and pretending that we didn't hear Aunt Bill sighing about us drinking cherry Kool-Aid in said bed.
All kidding aside, Aunt Bill got a bad rap. Some may have described her as humorless, but they would have been very wrong. She had an excellent sense of humor. When she came to visit Conley she brought a personalized wooden spoon. Although, I don't practice corporal punishment I keep it hanging in the kitchen as a reminder of my great-aunt.
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Aunt Bill and my mom had a very close relationship when my mom was younger. This has always struck me as odd because my mom was a wild child. My mom called her "Mommy Bill". She stayed with Aunt Bill often and during her visit inexplicably fell in love with a set of boy ceramic figurines that stayed perched on a book shelf. Aunt Bill had promised her that she would "will" them to her. However, since my mom preceded her in death the figurines got passed down to me.
Now, I am not exactly a figurine type of person. Although my grandmother, Bill’s sister, knew that I loathed these type of decorations she insisted that I take them. My first instinct was to throw them away, but I couldn't do it (I think Gran knew this). They were Aunt Bill's and they were supposed to by my mom's. I put them in Conley's play room thinking that they would just blend in with the other dolls and stuffed animals. They did not.
I was hoping that I wouldn't notice them. I noticed them. This was not just because I don't like ceramic dust collectors, these dolls are crazy creepy, Redrum creepy. They have always creeped me out, but their powers seem to grow stronger when I let them in the house.
The little boy is in a jaunty cap and the little girl in a bonnet. The boy is holding a dog and the the girl is holding a cat. You may say; how creepy can that be? You may say; they sound cute and innocent. However, these kids are not cute and they are very, very far from innocent. They are dead-behind-the-eyes-black-souled-round-mouthed-children-of-the-corn! They watch you.
Naturally, they are Conley's favorite two things in the world. She plays with them all the time and calls them "her kids". She carries them around and places them in different places in the house. I fear for my only child. Only adding to the creepiness because it is as if they move their little creepy selves all over the house when we aren't watching.
I think that it will be easier to show you than to tell you how my stern Aunt Bill is having the last laugh.
After all, a creepy picture is worth a thousand creepy words.