Homemade S'mores
Days are growing shorter. Nights are cooler and come much quicker. The fire pits used on some occasions appear with more of a rhythm; their usefulness now starkly apparent. Velvety leaves become thinner and brittle. They rustle together in the wind to keep warm, eventually losing their grip, floating down en mass. Enjoying their new found freedom they chase each other in circles and streams over lawns,and through forests.
It's the time of tales, some old, some new. Outside fires illuminate worlds within while muting the outside world. As the fire burns and flames rise, and darkness shrouds our surroundings, firelight alters and distorts what was once familiar. How perfect, then, to share these tales and stories; some fiction some true. Which ones are which? I leave that to you.
So, dinner is done. The fire is lit. Grab the marshmallows now and gather round the pit.
Whether old or new, fiction or true, the stories told will tend to disturb you.
The Grass is Greener
It's the smallest patch of grass, only a couple feet in diameter, perfectly round. I noticed it years ago. With each winter that passes, it draws me closer and closer. At first I didn't really think much of it. It was just part of the surrounding woods and every patch of woods has its own little stories, little idiosyncrasies. If one takes the time, they get to know those. But there was the greenery, that patch of grass. It remained bright green in the coldest and greyest of winters, despite Nature's calling and the entire world surrounding it, the patch ignored all else and remained green. Summer never ended in that small patch. In even in the dead of winter the sun seemed to find it's way to that greenery. 
This year, I was going to figure it out. The surveyors had been out, tagging random trees. The woods may not be there much longer and cities are fond of tearing down random patches of woods, trees, wildlife and replacing them with parking lots and buildings, strip malls, most of which remain empty these days. The leaves were falling early. I made my way through the vines, still green, holding on to their faded emeralds for the last few days before their hidden rubies and topaz and citrines burst forth for one last party before winter.
I stared at that patch of green grass, almost perfectly round. I bent down to feel the ground. Perhaps it was an old well. Perhaps it was some kind of vent, keeping that little bit of ground warm all winter through. It felt the same as every other piece of ground around it. I took a few blades of grass that came out easily with their roots and carried it in the house with me. I thought maybe I would send it to a lab for analysis. I would have to do an internet search to find where to send it and what to look for. I placed it in a plastic bag, stuck it in the fridge and began to get ready for a cook out for my niece and her friends later in the week.
Homemade s'mores was on the menu for dessert and I was about to get started on it. There is nothing like the taste of homemade marshmallows, especially toasting them over a fire, all of the caramelized gooeyness and vanilla melding together into a sweet little sandwich of melted chocolate and graham crackers. That's heaven on earth. It's such a great dessert for kids but a special indulgence for adults as well. Homemade makes it look a little rustic, but the flavor.. Oh My! So as I readied myself in the kitchen, I heard something hit the window. It hit pretty hard, so hard I dropped everything in my hand. Startled, I turned around.
I saw just the top of her head, shiny black hair with a bright red bow pinned in it. She was gone before I could make out any other feature. I looked out the window and there was no sight of her anywhere. My heart raced and I tried to calm myself down, busying myself, thinking that would help. There weren't a lot of kids in the neighborhood. Maybe she was visiting. Odd.
That night as I lay in bed, just about to drift off to sleep, I heard the same sound. Someone or something hit the window. At first I was a little frightened but anger soon got the best of me. I rushed to the kitchen, stopping just short of the window, seeing my the room illuminated. The light came from the open door of my fridge and cast an eerie glow over the entire kitchen. I glanced at the window and in the briefest of moments an the black of night a red bow briefly appeared. I closed fridge door, shaken and made my way back to the bedroom. I have to admit, I hid my head under the covers. Sleep came and went the rest of the night, and in each dream, there was the little girl. The dreams, black and white. The bow, bright red. It made no sense. There she was, every time I closed my eyes.
I saw her running and playing. I watched her in my dreams.. I saw her huge brown eyes turn to slits and she fell into a fit of laughter. I saw birthday parties and balloons. I heard children singing. Everything I was experiencing was distorted, in a dreamlike, faraway state. I watched a shadow approach the girl and start to tickle her and an eruption of giggles filled my dream room.
The entire scene stopped abruptly and an alarm was blaring in the distance. She was startled and looked straight at me. Her face grew closer and her eyes were gaunt and hollow. I awoke with a start as my alarm clock buzzed angrily, demanding attention.
My heavy, sleep deprived body was soon in the kitchen ready for a hot cup of coffee. The fridge door was once again open and all of its contents on the floor. The patch of grass I had left to preserve lay alone on a cold shelf, grass still bright green.
After coffee came the library. I've watched many ghost stories and this was always the next step. The little girls face haunted me, her gaunt empty eyes. It was quite a stark contrast to the dreams from early in the night filled with giggles and laughter. As par for the course, I found her picture. It was a tragic story of an untimely death. Her body was found a couple miles down the road. It was at the bottom of the valley. The article stated that police believed she had been playing too close to a cliff and had fallen to her death.
"I was put there." a tiny voice and a puff of air touched my ear.
Every last follicle on the back on my neck and every other part of my body stood on end. I continued looking at articles. I wondered if there was more.
Sure enough, the disappearance of her body from the morgue was reported a few days later.
First a poor little girl's untimely death followed by her body disappearing. I could find nothing else. To my knowledge, the body was never found.
Should I dig it up?, I thought. Should I call someone? What would I tell them? A ghost told me her body may be buried in the woods?
It seemed almost a shame to desecrate a patch of grass that never lost it's summer.
I now felt guilty about even taking some of it and sticking it in my fridge.
That night, when I returned home, I removed the grass from the little plastic bag in my fridge. Once again it was the only thing remaining in the fridge. Everything had been strewn and poured and broken on the kitchen floor. I stepped over the mess, leaving it and walked outside, through the woods to the patch of grass. I knelt down and replaced the blades and dirt that I had removed the other day.
I cried as I knew with every fiber of my being some torturous horror took place. I could feel it and sense it. I saw her cries and her huge eyes wide with fear. I saw her try to scream but those screams didn't come. I saw her lifeless body thrown down a cliff and then later taken and buried.
I vowed I would dig her up myself if I had to, and give her a proper burial.
The fallen leaves stirred and a howling wind arrived out of nowhere. I was still kneeling, hands on the patch of grass and almost touching a black patent leather shoe. The girl stood in front of me, face twisted and eyes black and filled with terror.
I was too scared to scream. I was too scared to move. My eyes remained fixated on hers. She screamed and her little face was consumed with anger
.
I'm not sure how but I worked up enough courage to speak.
"It's okay. I'm going to help you. We are going to find you peace."
She let out an ungodly scream and I once again was filled with tears.
"You will go away from here and leave this place alone." Her soft voice was even more frightening than her scream.
"This grass remains summer because I lived. I want to be remembered for how I lived, not how I died."
"But don't you want justice to be brought to those who harmed you? If your story is told, you can rest in peace, sweetie."
"My brother is paying for what he did, as will anyone else who disturbs me." she promised. "I make my own peace."
Her chilling warning was heeded and I left abruptly. Perhaps by digging up her past, she relived the horrors once again. Some things are better left in the past. I walked back to the house and decided I might want to move. If the city was coming to tear down those woods, there's no telling what that little girl may do. The thought briefly crossed my mind to find out who her brother was, but when she mentioned him, an eerie smile came to her face. I decided better of it.
I had some cleaning up to do and some s'mores to make. This would be a story for future campfires but not this one; a story to be told to fellow s'mores eaters that wouldn't be able to find that patch of summer grass. I glanced through the window in the direction of it.
She lived.
Marshmallows
4 envelopes Gelatin
2 tsp Vanilla Extract or the seeds scraped from 2 Vanilla Beans
3/4 cup Water
3 c Sugar
1 1/4 c Light Corn Syrup
3/4 cup Water
1/4 tsp Salt
Potato Starch for dusting
Tools Needed:
Stand Mixer
Heavy Saucepan, at least 2 quart
Candy Thermometer
Nonstick Cooking Spray
Parchment Paper
Glass Baking Dish, 9x13
Scissors
Spray your glass dish with nonstick cooking spray.
Line it with parchment paper, cutting a slit in each of the four corners so the parchment lays flat and lines the bottom and the edges of your dish.
Use caution. Working with sugar that is extremely hot is like working with hot lava. Be careful not to spill any and when using your stand mixer, use the splash guard provided.
Leave out in the open air overnight (or for 8-12 hours).
You can use a mixture of potato starch and powdered sugar to coat your marshmallows but they turn out much sweeter. I like a more mellow sweet so I use all potato starch to coat. Potato starch is available through Bob's Mill or a health food store. You also can use corn starch in place of potato starch in a pinch.
They can be coated with nonstick cooking spray or potato starch as needed, rinsing occasionally.
Store room temperature. They will last a couple weeks.
Make s'mores
Grahams
Tools needed:
Scale
Food Processor
Cookie Sheet
Parchment Paper
Pizza Cutter
Tape Measure
Fork
Add the honey, milk, vanilla extract and butter.
Process about a minute until the mixture forms a ball of dough.
Measure the dough into 2" squares (or however large or small you would like them) and use your pizza cutter form the squares.
(Alton Brown's recipe bakes the grahams at 350 degrees. Mine browned really quickly so I adjusted the heat a few degrees lower and the second batch cooked perfectly.)
Some more s'mores, my friends?
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I'm not fond of smores, but I was riveted by the story!
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