The story I’m about to share with you, tells the story of a man that unfortunately, passed away after being followed by the headless horseman. Before I go into any details of who this man was, let me tell you about the headless horseman.
Even though I was the daughter of Baltus Vantassel, the owner of many farms in Tarry Town, I grew up with this tale, told by all my friends. To be honest with you, my father never really cared about what I did, unless it had to do with an accomplishment due to my so called profound knowledge. However, according to all my firends, the headless horseman was a Hessian soldier that lost his head thanks to an American cannonball. He was buried in a churchyard near our town so he rides his horse every night, haunting the church, searching for his head.
This dreadful story started when Ichabod Crane came to town. Ichabod Crane was a school teacher that came to our town so that kids could get a chance to learn. Not only was he tall, but extremely thin, even though he ate all he could whenever he got the opportunity. Something I found very irascible about a man his age was his superstition. He believed in every tale, every myth and every scary story people would tell him about.
My wealthy father was the first one to hire him as my singing teacher and even though I knew what a great singer he was, he scared me. However, as our classes went by, I started to like him. Flirting with him and being part of Ichabod’s life felt right and somehow made him like me back. Time went by and every time I was near Ichabod, I realized how amiss people in town where. Brom Bones would always tell me how he abhorred that professor, his explanation and arguments usually becoming an interminable tirade. To me, Ichabod was an affable man, unlike what everyone else thought of him.
Even though people in town, especially men see me as a prize, as something precious no one can have, I don’t feel that way. My father is one of the wealthiest men in Tarry Town, and my attributes as well as my wealth interest men like Ichabod and Abraham. Abraham, also known as Brom Bones because of his strength, was the young man I just talked to you about. His broad shoulders and brusque figure look amazing with his short, curly black hair and he is definitely a person I like to be around. After I met Ichabod, I couldn’t make my mind as to which man I should love, and that autumn night didn’t help.
After I desperately entreated night after night, my parents agreed to be the hosts of the festival. Everyone in town was invited, including Ichabod and Brom Bones. I remember the night before, when everyone asked about the festival I said I couldn’t wait. Ichabod and Abraham in the same place. What was I thinking?
My tremulous hands were now sweaty but as the party started, everyone minded their own business and apparently, where having fun. After everyone was gone, and the only thing left were empty cups and crumpled napkins, Ichabod Crane waited for me. When we where by ourselves, only the moon and the starts watching, he asked me if I wanted to marry him. I couldn’t believe him! He was my teacher! Yes, I liked him, but not enough to marry him. When I said no, his despondent attitude made me feel guilty and he left. As I saw him leave on his horse, my first thought was Brom Bones. What would he say when he found out?
This is the last thing I can say about that dreadful night because what follows is just a group of stories I heard from people around town. Ichabod Crane left my house, and was followed by the headless horseman. He was not the best rider and all he wanted to do was go past the bridge were people said the headless horseman would stop following you. I can see him, tremulous hands, clasping the horse’s mane, trying to look calm while his fear pervaded his soul. The next day, after I found out about this, I ran to the bridge, and all I saw was a pumpkin, smashed on the floor.
It’s been two months since I saw that, and my first thought is still Brom Bones. Maybe I wasn’t madly in love with Ichabod, but one thing I know for sure. Abraham is no one to be joking around with. He is determined, and even though he is now my husband, I still wonder what he was up to, on that dreadful autumn night.
Natalia you did a wonderful job describing. it was awesome.
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