The Ghost Chronicles (23 page)

“Is that what they were trying to tell me when they took my forty bucks at the Windham Restaurant?” I said, thinking back to the night that I’d tossed some money onto the table to take care of the bill, only to have it go missing a moment later, never to be seen again. I found myself getting aggravated all over again.

“Have there been any other ghostly events that you’d like to share with our listeners?” Maureen asked.

“Well, will you look at the time?” We were seconds away from the half hour and at any second Erik at the station would be plugging the commercial break. Quickly, before losing the air, I said,
“We’re going to take a break right now, and when we come back, Arthur is going to share another ghostly tale.” I smiled at Arthur, “You can hang on, right?” He nodded in response.

Maureen looked up from her laptop, and grinned. “So, you didn’t need my laptop, huh?”

“Whatever.”

With the last remnants of commercial fading off into the distance, Maureen said, “We’re back. And for those of you just tuning in, we’re here at the haunted Concord Colonial Inn. Before the break Arthur, the headwaiter, was just about to share another ghostly tale with us. Arthur?”

Arthur grinned. “Well, let me tell you about another spirited event. It took place in the dining room, not far from where you ate tonight, on February 21 of this year, which I think is Lincoln’s birthday. That Sunday, the Sons of the North, the Union Army, a fraternal organization, had brunch here for their annual get-together. Normally, for all big meetings, I set the guests up at round tables and place the podium in the center of the room, for easy viewing. For some unknown reason, for the first time in twenty years of setting up functions, I decided to place the podium next to the grandfather clock instead.”

“I take it something happened?” Maureen asked, her voice thick with anticipation.

“Yes. The guests were finishing up dinner, and we began to serve dessert. The chaplain of the group stood up to speak. I’ve heard a lot of benedictions in my time, but this was an outstanding, eloquent speech. Then, at the end of his speech, before the opening of the prayer, he asked that everyone bow their heads in a moment of respect and honor to the fallen president.” Arthur hesitated. “At that instant, in that very second that everyone bowed their heads,
the grandfather clock started to chime. With the podium so close to the clock, the microphone echoed the sound, which in turn reverberated around the Inn. The clock chimed twelve times…The only problem was, it was two in the afternoon.” As if to emphasize his point, he continued, “The clock was in perfect working order. It was the first and only time it ever happened.”

“Wow, that is unbelievable,” I said. “Can you believe it, though? It’s time for us to say goodnight. Arthur, thank you so much. You certainly know how to tell a tale.”

“Thanks, Ron. It’s been a pleasure.”

“We want to thank the manager of the Concord Colonial Inn, David Grossenburg, for making this all possible. Tune in next week, when we will be joined by Steve Wilson and Black Betty from the Spirit Light Network.”

“Ron’s referring to my friend, Bety Comerford. Why do you always call her that?”

“It’s just every time I think of her, that song pops in my head. You know, the one from Ram Jam, ‘Black Betty’?” I go into song. “Whoa, Black Betty, ram-A-lam. Whoa, Black Betty bam-A-lam…”

“She’s gonna kill you.” Maureen said, chuckling.

“Whatever, the line is getting longer by the minute. Well, look at this, it’s time to say…”

“Good night and God Bless,” we said in unison as the show ended.

* * *

Ron stood up from the chair and walked Arthur to the door as I made my way to the bathroom. Feeling exhausted, I leaned over the sink, the cold water rushing over my hands. I slowly raised my head and glanced into the mirror. Startled, I stumbled backwards. I reached out and grabbed the towel bar to keep
myself from tumbling over. My reflection was gone, replaced with the image of another woman. Unable to do much else, I stood there, staring into eyes that were not my own. Her jetblack hair was pulled up in a bun, a stark contrast to her pale, triangular face. Her small hands were folded in front of the soft blue bodice of her gown. Her striking green eyes stared at me longingly, as if she wanted to speak, but didn’t know how. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out. My heartbeat thudded. Finally finding my voice, I said, “I’m sorry. I can’t understand you. What do you want?”

I blinked and she was gone.

I thought of yelling for Ron, then changed my mind. What good would it do now? He would rush in, meter in hand, and attempt to communicate. No. That wasn’t happening. I was exhausted and just wanted to go home. Breathing a sigh, I shook my head slightly to clear the cobwebs, then leaned over the sink and looked up in the mirror again. “Gross.” My normally olive skin, with the exception of dark circles forming beneath my eyes, looked like death warmed over. Great.

I exited the bathroom and walked smack dab into Linda, Leo’s wife, who had been waiting outside the door.

“Maureen, it looks like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“Well, I…” I waved my hand dismissively. I was about to explain, then thought better of it. I didn’t want to get into it now.

I crossed the room to Ron. “Ron, there’s a…”

Ron interrupted me, “Maureen, I meant to ask you earlier, but forgot. Why didn’t Steve make it to dinner tonight?”

“This isn’t Steve’s idea of a night out.” I turned to look at Jan, who, looking exhausted, was pulling a toothbrush and toothpaste out of her overnight bag. She and Ron would be staying the night.
I took it as a sign that it was time we called it a night. I put on my jacket. “You know, you’re really lucky that Jan is part of the group. Who knows, maybe Steve will become a believer someday. I think he just needs to experience things for himself.”

“Yeah. I guess,” Ron said. “Oh, you were going to say something?”

“Yeah. There’s a woman with dark hair in the bathroom.”

“What?” Ron asked.

“I’m serious; she just appeared in the mirror out of nowhere.”

At my words Ron dove on the bed. “Oooh, baby, come and get me.”

“You are crazy.” I laughed out loud. “You never know. You should be careful what you wish for, Ron.”

“How so?” Ron grinning from ear to ear, sat straight up on the bed.

“Yeah, you know when you’re watching a scary movie and the guy is kissing a beautiful woman, ” I raised my hands and wiggled my fingers in the air. “Then, ‘boogada, boogadda, boogadda,’ she turns into a ghoulish demon.” I laughed.

Ron wrinkled up his nose, and smirked. “Whatever.”

I suddenly began to feel even more exhausted than I had a moment ago, if that was even possible. “Gang, I’m out of here.”

After I’d gotten into my car, I pulled a little bottle of holy water out of my canvas bag. Typically, I bless my car with holy water to prevent any unwanted visitors. But it was 1:45 a.m. and I was tired. Besides, usually I do it before I get into the car, and I’d forgotten. At this stage, it seemed pointless—I was already in the car. Plus, I hadn’t felt any negative energy, so I shouldn’t have anything to worry about. I threw the bottle back in the bag and stepped on the gas.

As I pulled away from the Concord Inn, my third eye began to throb.
What’s up with that
, I thought. But I was too tired to think about it more.

Once I got home, I realized I should take out the sea salt and do a cleansing, but again, I was tired and felt physically incapable. I dragged myself to bed. Before my head hit the pillow, I was dead to the world.

I woke up, greeted by my husband’s angry stare.

“What’s the matter with you?” I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“What’s the matter? What’s the matter?” he spat out. “I’ll tell you what’s the matter. When you go on your little ‘ghostly’ adventures, you had better sleep in another room!”

Since I’d slept so soundly—it was the best rest I’d had in years—I was at a loss as to what he was referring to. “Why? What happened?”

His eyes grew wide. “You…you brought something home with you.”

“Come on, Stephen. Really. What’s going on?”

“Last night, I heard you when you got home and climbed into bed. But I fell back asleep.”

“Go on.”

He stared at me hard as if he didn’t know how to say it. Then he began, “Well, you started rubbing my back and I thought,
Wow, she should go investigate more often
.” He frowned. “Then, the next thing I knew, I was up on my elbows with you beneath me. I was kissing you, holding you. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I’d shifted over you enough that light from the streetlight was coming through the curtains. Then, bam! Right in front of my eyes, your face shriveled away, until it was nothing but a skull with eye sockets!”

For a minute I was stunned. I looked at the way his eyes watered as he retold the story, reliving it a second time. Not knowing what else to say, I asked, “Are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” as the memory of the night before began to come together in my mind: the woman in the mirror, the conversation I’d had with Ron and Clay, the “boogada, boogada, boogada” thing.

“No, I wasn’t dreaming. I was still up on my elbows when I turned to my left, and you were there, sound asleep, oblivious to everything. It hadn’t been you at all. Then when I turned back, the skull was gone…”

Intuitively I knew the woman in the mirror had followed me home. I was torn, one part of me felt bad that he had endured such an ordeal. The other part of me was happy that he’d finally experienced something paranormal. Maybe he wouldn’t think me crazy after all.

I waited for my husband to leave to run some errands, when it was safe, I called Ron and blurted out my husband’s “little indiscretion.” After his laughter subsided, I asked, “So, Ron, did you get lucky?”

* * *

“Excuse me?”

“You know, did you capture anything?” Maureen asked.

“After you guys left, I did some base readings with my EMF meter. Although I was picking up some low-level readings, there really wasn’t much to write home about. But here’s the thing. After I finally fell asleep, I was awakened by what I thought was the shaking of the bed. I looked at Jan, who was curled up like a newborn baby, oblivious to what was going on.”

“Did you see anybody?”

“No. But then it happened again, so I grabbed my EMF meter. The readings were definitely higher than before I went to bed.”

“Who sleeps with an EMF meter on the nightstand?” Without waiting for a response, she said, “You do, evidently. Ron, do me a favor. . . please don’t tell anyone else about his ‘little indiscretion,’ Steve will kill me.”

“I promise I won’t. Scout’s honor,” I said. But in truth, I never was a very good Boy Scout…I continued, disappointment in my voice. “I went through the footage of the night, and guess what?”

“The bed was shaking.”

“No. Before it happened, the tape on both camcorders had run out.”

“Maybe that was the plan,” Maureen said. “So what did you do?”

“Nothing. What could I do? I gave Jan a kiss on the forehead and went to sleep. But I have something neat to tell you.”

“What?”

“After breakfast, I was interviewing the girls at the front desk for the iTunes podcast. You’re not going to believe this…They told me when the guys from the TV series
Ghost Hunters
came here and investigated Room 24, they saw a woman with dark hair as well.” Ron paused. “So I guess it was a productive night after all. The
radio show was a success. You saw the woman in the bathroom. I got my bed shaken, and just maybe, Steve was left with a deeper understanding of what the paranormal is all about.”

T
he Ghost Line rang with a call from Jeff Belanger, the founder and chief cook and bottle washer of Ghostvillage.com.

“Hey Ron, what’s happening?” he asked, in his familiar jovial voice. “ I take it you haven’t had a chance to review the video clips I sent you.”

“Ah, that would be a no, but I’ll check it out right now.” Punching a few keys on the keyboard, I found Jeff’s email. I pressed a few more, and a video popped up on the screen. The heavy beat of nightclub music blared through my computer speakers as I sat, momentarily mesmerized by the scene before me. “Wow! Is that what I think it is?”

“Yup, and you, my friend, are going to owe me, big time. If you’re interested, I can hook you guys up.”

“Are you serious? I’ll tell you, Jeff, I’ve never seen anything like that before. I’d definitely like to get a closer look. If you know what I mean.” I laughed out loud. Not wanting to let this opportunity slip through my fingers, I said, “We’re going to be in Lawrence on Friday doing the radio show on WCCM. How about we hook up after the show?”