Chapter One Ghost in the Cemetery

 

Chapter One

 

Ghost in the Cemetery

 

 

 

An elderly overweight woman sat alone in a church yard cemetery, on a sunny Saturday morning. She had been staring into space for over an hour, not really taking in her surroundings. Christina Graystone had not noticed the beautiful spring flowers that blanketed the landscape for as far as the eye could see. She had not even paid any attention when the sun played peek-a-boo with the golden daffodils that seemed to be sounding their trumpet-shaped flowering heads each time the sun peeked out from behind the fluffy white clouds. No her mind was not on the beautiful spring day. She had come that morning to visit her grandparent’s graves. She had visited their graves every Saturday for as long as she could remember. Usually her husband Jason accompanied her on these weekly visits, but this Saturday he was installing and air conditioning system in the old Mayweather House. Southampton’s most famous haunted house had finally been sold, and the new occupants insisted that central air be installed before they moved in. Christina had tried to talk her husband out of doing the job, but Jason insisted telling her that they would need the extra money when the grandchildren visited. She finally relented when their two sons Denny and Timmy agreed to go along with their father and help with the job. After all, Jason would make more money installing central air in Mayweather House than the same job at ten other homes around Southampton England. No one wanted to work inside Mayweather House, and Zane Pilkington would pay anything to rid his estate agency of the haunted house; he had offered to pay Jason four times the going rate, with a substantial bonus if he completed job in under three days. Christina was sure that Jason would have the job completed in one with their two sons helping their dad.  

          Christina bent down to pull the weeds around the gravestones, but stopped suddenly. She thought she heard the faint sound of a child singing. She listened for a minute and thought to herself that this child had an amazingly beautiful voice, the voice of an angel. She looked around in all directions, but saw no one. She looked down the tree-lines street, but all the yards seemed to be empty of children playing. She decided that someone must have their window open and the sweet musical voice had drifted through the air from someone’s home. Suddenly Christina caught something out of the corner of her eye. She thought she had seen a ghost-like figure of a child dancing among the gravestones. Her mind called it a ghost-like figure because she could see the golden daffodils right through the almost transparent figure. She called this apparition almost transparent because she could tell that the child was wearing a lacy pink dress. Not the kind of dress little girls wore today, but it did look very familiar. Her daughter Laurie Ann had a dress just like it over thirty years ago. Yes, she and Leora Grace Mayweather had gotten dresses to match that spring. Christina could see them like it was only yesterday, twirling around like ballerinas. That’s what Leora Grace had called her lacy pink dress with its fluffy layers of lace. Christina hadn’t thought about those two dresses in many years. Laurie Ann’s dress was packed away in the large trunk in the attic, where it had been since Will and Leora Grace’s disappearance. Laurie Ann refused to even look at the frilly little dress, let alone wear it after her best friend went missing. 

          Christina reached up under her spectacles, rubbing her eyes, causing them to bounce up and down against her nose. She was sure that it had just been her imagination.  She hadn’t slept very well the night before, tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning, worrying about Jason and the job he had taken on at the behest of Zane Pilkington the local estate agent. Jason and Zane had been friends for many years. Zane called Jason whenever his estate agency needed any electrical work done on the houses his agency had up for sale. Christina rubbed her eyes again. Had she really seen a ghost?  No, it must have been the glare of the sun, in the mist that had hung heavy in the air for days.  It could just as well have been her failing eyesight, or maybe worse, her failing mind.  She made a mental note to make an appointment with her eye doctor, for some new spectacles.  She counted back in her mind.  Yes, it was just about time for new spectacles.  Maybe she would make an appointment with her medical doctor and get a complete examination, but she wouldn’t tell him that she was seeing things that weren’t there.  Pink elephants would be one thing, but ghosts could get her landed in the loony bin for sure.  Just to be on the safe side, Christina removed her spectacles and cleaned them with the hanky she kept in the sleeve of her dress. She kept her head down, not wanting to look in the direction that she had seen the apparition or whatever it was. Maybe it was just a little girl–a real live little girl who had come to play among the gravestones. But why would a little girl be alone in a cemetery? Perhaps she had wandered out of the church and her parents were looking for her at that very moment. Christina knew that it would be her civic duty to help the child find her parents. She slowly raised her head and looked in the direction that the child had been. She was still there. This time Christina was sure that she could see right through the child–a patch of flowers was one thing, but now she was seeing an entire gravestone through the child. She took her spectacles off and rubbed them hard with her hanky; then she blew her breath upon each lens and rubbed them again much harder this time, to make sure that they were clean and clear. She shook her head a couple of times almost making herself dizzy, hoping that if she had a couple of screws loose, the shaking would fix that. She put her spectacles back on, but didn’t look in the direction of the child. She looked in the opposite direction, until her head stopped spinning.

          “Christina Graystone, you must have gone daft in your old age.” Christina spoke aloud talking to herself; her voice seemed to echo throughout the churchyard cemetery. Was this just the results of long night without sleep? “Ghosts don’t exist! This isn’t possible!” Her voice rose in pitch that almost sounded eerie. Suddenly Christina was jolted out of the argument she had been having with herself, by the gentle sound of a child-like voice as the child ambled closer to where she sat. Christina turned in the direction of the child–and yes, she was still there, in full ghostly form or lack thereof, so to speak.

          “Did you say something lady?” the little ghost girl asked, saunterin

even closer, not watching where she stepped.  She walked right through several gravestones, not around them as she had before. The little girl put her thumbs in her ears and wobbled her hands like giant elephant ears, all the while sticking out her tongue, and dancing around, weaving back and forth between the gravestones.  Then the little ghost girl began flapping her arms up and down, and began quacking like a duck, stopping every few minutes to giggle, laughing at herself and the old woman with the confused look on her face. She had done this routine many times with the elderly visitors, but this was the first time that one seemed to be listening. The little ghost girl knew that wasn’t possible, but it was fun to pretend that someone could actually see and hear her. Suddenly the little ghost girl began to sing.

          “Little old lady! Little old lady! You sit there talking to the air. Who do you see? Who do you know? I’m sure that it’s not me. And if you’re not careful, if you’re not careful, everyone will stop and stare. Tell me old lady. Tell me old lady. Have you lost your mind? What are you looking at? What do you hear? I’m sure that it’s not me. Be careful old lady. Be careful old lady. The people here may be dead, but they aren’t blind and they aren’t deaf.”

          The little ghost girl still hadn’t realized that the old woman had actually seen her. Just another senile old woman, she thought. That’s all that ever comes here. They never stay any length of time. Appearing on her transparent face was the look of sadness. She had so missed the warmth that came from contact with the living. Most of the younger visitors just brought their flowers and left, never staying long enough for her to take notice of them. Sometimes she tried to play with the children who accompanied their parents, but those who were still able to see her–one by one would burst into tears, out of fear. They cried to leave, hiding their faces against their mother or father. She hoped that one day soon a little girl would come into the cemetery and not be afraid of her–a living child who would want to play with her and be her friend. She so wanted to have someone to play with.

          After listening to the little girl’s song, Christina rubbed her ears, then stuck her fingers in her ears, which made a loud popping sound when she pulled them out, causing the little ghost girl to burst out laughing. Christina rubbed her ears again, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

          “Hey lady, do that again,” the child said giggling.

          Christina Graystone peeked through tiny slits, observing the little girl. She couldn’t help smiling, as the little girl’s curly blond hair bounced wildly around her face as she laughed. It took all of Christina’s willpower not to reach out to retie the ribbon that had let those blonde curls fall loose around her face. The child’s face seemed to take on color with each musical giggle that escaped her transparent lips. Christina Graystone couldn’t help noticing how her clear blue transparent eyes twinkled almost catching the sunlight–almost, but not quite, because of the transparent appearance of her ghostly aura. She noticed that even the pink frilly dress she wore had a faded translucent appearance. When the child giggled again, her face took on even more color. It was then that Christina realized who the child reminded her of; it wasn’t just the dress that was familiar. Suddenly she sat up straight and seemed to be spellbound. The little ghost girl had Leora Grace’s face. Christina was looking into the beautiful face of her best friend’s five year old daughter who had disappeared more than thirty years ago. Could this child be little Leora Grace? “No, that isn’t possible!”

          “Hey lady, I said, do that again.” The ghostly child squealed with delight, jumping up and down. The ribbon that hung loosely in her hair came completely untied, floating on the breeze across the gravestones. It had been a long time since one of the old people who visited the cemetery had made her feel this happy–this alive. The little ghost girl looked long and hard at the old woman. She reminded her of someone, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.   

          “I don’t see you little girl,” Christina said, still not wanting to believe that this ghostly creature was the long lost child of her best friends Lyndsey and William Mayweather. You aren’t real,” Christina whispered so low that the little ghost girl almost didn’t hear her, but she did hear. Christina was just imagining the face of this little girl, who resembled her own little granddaughter, Lyndsey whom her daughter named after Christina’s best friend, Lyndsey Mayweather. Lyndsey Mayweather had lavished the love for her lost Leora Grace on Christina’s daughter Laurie Ann who had been Leora Grace’s best friend. Maybe the reason I’m seeing Leora Grace’s face, is because I have missed the grandchildren so much, Christina thought. The children were coming to spend the next two months and that is the reason she had conjured up this little ghost girl who just happened to resemble five-year-old Lyndsey. Lyndsey Mayweather had noticed the resemblance herself, the last time Laurie Ann and the children visited.

          Suddenly the little girl’s expression changed. “You can see me, can’t you? Talk to me, pleeeese!”

          “You aren’t real!” Christina’s voice was several octaves higher than her usual tone. She looked directly at the little girl, but still she didn’t believe that she was really hearing and seeing an actual ghostly presence. Christina was now sure that she was losing her mind. She had been forgetting things lately. She wondered if she should call her daughter Laurie Ann and admit that she wasn’t up for a visit from the children. Maybe she could convince her daughter to stay for the entire visit. Christina knew that was wishful thinking. Her daughter had signed on to teach summer school this year and could only stay the first and the last week of the children’s visit, so she and Jason would have over a month alone with the children. “A Nanny! We can hire a Nanny to help with the children.”

          “Old Lady, if you need a Nanny; then where are the children? Is there a little girl about five? Oh I hope there is a little girl.” The little ghost girl spoke in an excited tone of voice.

          Christina pretended not to hear the child. She went over in her mind what the children would need during their visit. Justin was sixteen, so he wouldn’t be much trouble. Her church had a great teen program during the summers and that would keep Justin very busy for the entire summer visit. The little ones, Michael seven and Lyndsey five, well that was another matter. There would be a two-week Bible School, but what to do with two active children for a whole month? Jason said they could take them to the Zoo and Victoria Park. Christina suddenly remembered the idea Jason had after Zane Pilkington called with the Mayweather House job. Jason suggested that they use the money he earned to rent a cottage at Hunter’s Lodge for an entire month. There would be plenty of entertainment for the children, and St. Paul’s Church ran the church bus to Hunter’s Lodge to pick up children for Bible School and the teen functions. Still, a Nanny sounded like a good idea. With what Zane was paying for the Mayweather House job, and the small advance her publisher paid for her new children’s book; there would be enough money for a Nanny and the cottage at Hunter’s Lodge.

          “Lady, I’m talking to you. It’s impolite not to answer. My mumma always said it was impolite not to answer when spoken to.”

          What did the child say? Christina said in the silence of her mind. She called her mum, mumma. That is how Leora Grace referred to Lyndsey. Leora Grace was always getting her American and English dialect mixed up. Lyndsey used the term momma, while William used the term mum, so Leora Grace combined the two–mumma. “Nonsense, Christina,” she spoke out loud again talking to herself. “There must be other children in Southampton England who use the term mumma in referring to their mums. It’s just the anticipation of the children’s arrival next week. That’s all it is. She’s not real. I’m not losing my mind. I’m just missing my grandchildren. Anyway, there’s no such thing as ghosts and I’m not seeing a little girl.”

          “I am too real. My name is Leora Grace Mayweather. Say my name lady, if you hear me. Say my name!”

          Leora Grace Mayweather! Christina’s mind screamed out the name of the little ghost girl. That’s not possible. My best friend’s little girl was kidnapped and never found. She is alive somewhere and so is her brother Will. She’s not dead and she is definitely not a ghost. Lyndsey and William’s children were kidnapped and never returned. She still grieves the children and said as much when we spoke last week. That is why I’m seeing this figment of my imagination. This child isn’t real.

          “Say my name, lady!” The little ghost girl screamed at the top of her lungs.

          “This is crazy! People will say I’m crazy.”

          “Say my name, lady! Say my name! Leora Grace Mayweather! Say it lady!”

          “Ok! Ok! Your name is Leora Grace Mayweather.”

          Leora Grace fell to the ground weeping. Her sobs echoed throughout the cemetery. “Yooou sa...aaaid my name,” she stuttered through her sobs.

          Without thinking, Christina reached down to comfort the child, patting her head, but her hand passed right through her head, to the other side. Christina thought she felt a sudden warmth, as her hand passed through the child.

          Leora Grace looked up with her pale tear stained face. She stretched her tiny hand up and laid it against the old woman’s cheek. Christina actually felt the slightest touch against her skin. “I ... I ... I felt that, Leora Grace sobbed. It has been so long since someone touched me. We have been so alone here for so long. Pleeease do it again.”

          Christina reached down a second time and let her hand rest in the air where the child’s head was. They both sat there silently for several minutes, tears trickling down the little girl’s cheeks, falling on Christina’s foot. Christina’s head jerked to look at her foot. She had felt the child’s wet tears. She reached down with her other hand and rubbed her hand across her foot scooping up the ghostly tear.

          “Deary, please don’t cry. Nothing could be that bad.”

          “I’m not sad lady,” Leora Grace finally spoke, her voice much clearer. “I’m happy. Finally someone has noticed me. I haven’t felt a warm touch in ever so long. Thank you lady.”

          “How long have you been here?” Christina asked the child, knowing the exact length of time since Leora Grace and Will disappeared from their beds in the middle of the night. Lyndsey Mayweather always believed that the reason someone or something had stolen her children away was because she had named her two children after the infamous Mayweather ghosts. 

          Christina’s best friends, Lyndsey, Justin and Michael Alistair had joined forces with Christina and her cousin Geanne and William Kensington to rid Devils Bluff of the ghosts who roamed Devils Bluff.   During their quest, William discovered that he was the long lost Mayweather heir, the great grandson of the ghosts of Mayweather House, Captain William Thomas Mayweather and his wife the former Leora Grace Stonewick. William chose to take the Mayweather name and after he and Lyndsey were married; they moved into Mayweather House. Everyone in Southampton believed that the haunting had finally come to an end. Lyndsey and William gave lavish parties in the grand ballroom at Mayweather House and things were normal for years. Lyndsey gave birth to her first child, a boy whom they named William Thomas Mayweather III then two years later Lyndsey gave birth to a girl, whom they named Leora Grace, after William’s great grandmother. Lyndsey and William were very happy and their children grew. On the morning of Leora Grace’s fifth birthday, April 1, Lyndsey found the children’s beds empty. On Leora Grace’s pillow was a note. It read. April Fools, if you want your children back, give back what you have stolen from me, William and Leora Grace Mayweather. Whatever had taken the children wanted the souls of Captain Mayweather and his lovely bride.

 

Reviews

[Mary]

I love ghost stories, and this is by far one of the best I've read.

[cassie]

A real haunting tale. Great Stuff.