Ghost Story or Real Story?

My entry into the local writing contest... 3rd place. Prompt: The story you tell at gatherings.

Ghost Story or Real Story?

Mom, dad, the twin girls, and their younger brother gathered around the campfire. The orange and blue flames crackled beneath the thick marine fog that shielded them from the outside world. It was the last night of their vacation and they had to get an early morning start for home, the next day. So after the marshmallows had been roasted and consumed and snuggles had been shared all around, the children were ordered to bed. Each child begged for their dad to tell one of his famous ghost stories before they retired.

“Not tonight,” mom said, after watching dad roll his eyes.

“Awww!” came the chorus of disappointment from the kids.

“Hey, Dad! What is that smell?” Sandra asked, stalling, but wrinkling her nose at the putrid stench.

“Smells like someone forgot to close off their sewage hose. Now, get to bed. I’ll be in in a minute to kiss you all good night.”

The children sulked up the steps and into the trailer. The water came on in the bathroom, the toilet flushed three times, and the spats began.

“I’m gonna tell Dad,” Debra groaned.

“Go ahead…” Robby snapped.

“Get in bed,” mom called from the bonfire. Dad stood and after stirring the embers, he entered the trailer.

“Bed, all of you,” he said, then kissed each child on the forehead and tucked them in tightly. He turned off the lights and waited a moment. When he was satisfied they’d settled in and their breathing had become rhythmic, he crept back out to the fire.

“Sandra is right. The mixture of salt air and sewage smells like death!” Just as he sat back in his camp chair, the giggling and stomping began anew. The trailer rocked and shrieks of laughter pierced the quiet of the night. “They were asleep, I swear!” dad said, standing again. He doubled his fist and pounded loudly on the trailer wall. The noise ceased.

No sooner had he relaxed in his chair, lit a cigar, and took a swallow of beer, when the giggling and noise began again. Dad sighed loudly, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that sounded like the kids from next door.”

“We haven’t seen them for three days. I heard they went to visit an aunt. You’re imagining things,” mom smirked as dad tossed the half smoked cigar into the flames and stood. He looked over his shoulder and grinned.

“Here I come! You’d better get into bed! Any kid making noise is going to feel my wrath!” He emitted a spooky, horror-movie laugh. At that, he threw the door open, clomped up the steps making as much noise as he could, and stomped through the trailer to the bunk beds. He peered behind the curtain to see that all three children were fast asleep. He wrinkled his brow and rubbed his chin. A childish snicker broke the silence behind him, and a man cleared his throat. Dad spun around, wide-eyed. No one was there.

The next morning, they awoke to flashing blue lights and police cars surrounding the adjacent trailer. The family stared out their windows, watching as the trailer door was forced open. The rancid smell of rotting flesh filled the air. It was later learned that two children and their father had been found inside -- dead
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