Campfire Ghost Stories

by Jo-Anne Christensen

Stories Told By Firelight

Skinned Tom

The heavy side door of the honkey tonk opened with a rusty groan, spilling a drunken man and woman and a few bars of lively fiddle music out into the humid summer night. It closed with a loud slam, which announced to the couple that they were officially seperated from the crowd and the party. They stood alone in the red glare of the exit sign, wondering what to say to one another now that they no longer had to shout. Conversation was not a necessity for them, though, so they were not overly concerned.

They began to cross the dark parking lot, letting the sounds of the party grow more and more distant. The farther they walked, the more slowly they progressed, as they stopped every few feet to share a passionate kiss. Finaly, the man resolved to sweep his companion off her feet and carry her to his pickup truck. She giggled with delight and kissed him some more.

"I'm so glad I met you tonight," she said.

"Yeah, we seem to be hitting it off alright," the man answered with a grin. Then he paused and looked at her in all seriousness.

"Just so there's no -misunderstanding-you do want to come back to the motel with me, right?"

"Absolutely," said teh woman, and she nibbled on the man's earlobe for emphasis. He laughed and pulled out the key to unlock his truck.

The lock popped up and the man reached for the door handle. Then he stopped cold and his breath left him in a frightened shudder.

"What is it?" asked the woman.

The man was suddenly pale and weak and sober. He set the woman back down on her feet with a clumbsy and unceremonious motion.

"The plan's off," he said, his voice tight. "Go back inside. Or go home. You can't come with me."

"Well, why on earth?" the woman wailed. "Everything was fine two minutes ago! Don't I even get an explanation?"

As she voiced her complaints, the man climbed into his truck. He was about to slam the door in the woman's face when he felt a touch of guilt. He had asked the woman to leave with him, so he probably did owe her an explanation. He turned back to her, and in a shaking voice, offered one.

"I just saw 'Skinned Tom,'" he said.

"You saw who?" the woman responded in her too-loud party voice. "Some guy named Tom? 'Cause you look like you saw a ghost."

The man reached out and shook the woman's shoulder with abrupt force.

"Skinned Tom is a ghost!" he hissed. "A warning ghost! Don't tell me you don't know about him!"

"I don't know about him!" the woman insisted. "So let go of me!"

The man released teh woman's shoulder. When she began to rub at the sore spot where he had dug his fingers in deeply, he felt another wave of guilt. To ease it, he decided that he would tell the woman the story.

"It happened a long time ago," he said. "Tom was this good-looking guy who lived in the next county over. Same as me. When he was visiting here, he met up with a woman one night. They ended up somewhere-well, somewhere like this, I guess-making out in Tom's car.

"The thing this guy didn't know was that the woman was married. And just as things were really heating up, this great big guy yanks open the car door and drags Tom and his woman friend outside. It was the husband. He didn't do too much to his wife, but he had a knife and he used it on Tom. He made sure that Tom wasn't going to get any more women with his handsome looks. He took the knife and he peeled every square inch of skin off of his face."

The man paused, and looked nervously around before continuing..

"Like I said, Skinned Tom's a ghost now. And when I just went to open up the door of the truck, there... When I looked, and I could see a reflection in the window... "The man stoppped and shook his head.

"I saw him," he finally blurted out. "I saw him standing right beside us, with those white eyes staring out of that awful, bloody face. It looked terrible, like raw meat."

"Good Lord," the woman said quietly. She seemed several degrees more sober. "You saw that?"

The man nodded. THe muscles along his jaw tensed and released rhythmically.

"Well, no wonder you're upset," the woman soothed. Then she moved in closer to the man and placed her hand on his arm. "But I can make you feel better, baby," she said.

The man recoiled instantly.

"Don't you get it?" he hissed. "Skinned Tom doesn't just show himself to everyone! Only as a warning, to guys like me! Guys who are about to get into trouble with a married woman!"

He pushed the woman out of the way then and slammed the door of the truck closed. As he started the engine, she pounded on the window indignantly.

"I'm not married!" she shrieked. "Who told you I was married?"

But the man wasn't listening. He backed out of the parking stall so quickly the woman had to jump back to avoid being struck by the truck's side mirror. Then he sped away, leaving her alone in the most distant corner of the quiet, dark parking lot.

For a minute or two, she watched his tail lights, thinking that he was bound to come to his senses and return for her. When he didn't, she cursed loudly and began walking back toward the honky tonk.

Although it was warm outside, she found herself shivering. She also found herself thinking about the ghost story and feeling more than a little anxious to get back to the comforting lights and company of the bar.

"Skinned Tom," she said with disgust, trying to force herself to dismiss it. But she found that she could not. And she wondered then if Skinned Tom ever acted as more than a ghost of warning. She wondered if he ever acted out of anger, seeking revenge against the woman who had trapped him.

Those were the thoughts passing through the woman's mind as she approached the door of the honky tonk, and they caused her to pause. By the light of the red exit sign, she opened up her purse and took out something that had been carefully wrapped in a tissue. She glanced nervously behind her as she unfolded the tiny package. Inside, there was a ring.

"Leave me alone, Tom," she said in a quivery voice. Then she slipped the ring back onto the third finger of her left hand, opened the door and returned to the party.